Remnant

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Remnant Page 4

by Dwayne A Thomason


  “Bypass complete, sir.” Keln called.

  “Let’s move, Alpha.” Soma took aim at the door and nodded to Keln. The Private tapped a button and the doors slid open. The room beyond was only slightly dimmer than the corridor thanks to the light amplification hardware in Soma’s helmet. He gestured with one hand, while keeping his pistol aimed at the room beyond. Alpha team, crouching low, entered the room, Soma at their center. The room was large and opulent with a coffered dome ceiling, dark hardwood flooring and rich wallpaper.

  “Check your corners,” Soma said, his tone hushed even his helmet was sealed and the external speakers off. In the center of the room was a round table made of some pale stone and carved chairs. Kornall checked beneath the table.

  “Clear,” he said.

  Against the far wall was a cabinet big enough for a person to hide in. Keln opened the doors while Axelin checked inside.

  “Clear,” Axelin said.

  There were two doors from the room besides the one Raven squad had entered.

  “Okay,” Soma said. “Kornal, Doff, Keln, take the door to the right. Axelin, you’re with me.”

  “Copy that,” Axelin said.

  Soma approached the door to the left, taking cover to one side. Axelin took cover to the other. Soma nodded and Private Axelin tapped the door control. The door slid open and Soma rushed in, gun darting here and there, taking in the room from floor to ceiling.

  This was a bedroom unlike any he’d seen before.

  The room maintained the dark wood flooring, but this was mostly covered by a huge rug, green with little golden flowers and abstract designs. To the right was a massive wardrobe with lacquered designs in matching gold and green. To the left was a huge four-poster bed with little gold and green lacquer birds sitting on painted tree branches running up the posts.

  A dressing table with a large mirror stood against the far wall. Before the table and the mirror stood the girl called Remnant.

  Soma barely kept from gasping at the sight of her. She hadn’t run. She either decided against using the governor’s escape shuttle or wasn’t given access to it. She was here. The target was here.

  Remnant was so out of place in this luxurious room, like a cartoon character in a photograph. Her robe and gown seemed old and worn, patched and repaired in every conceivable place. The only jewelry she wore was a string of worthless beads. She was unarmed, holding nothing in her hands.

  Soma nodded towards the wardrobe and Axelin moved. He opened the doors with a snap, ready to fire, and then shook his head back at Soma. The girl was here. Where was her bodyguard?

  Soma nodded at the bed. Axelin cleared it.

  The girl remained still while Axelin cleared the room. Once both of them stood staring at the girl, expecting her to disappear maybe, she spoke.

  “Hello, Sergeant Cross,” she said. “Private Axelin.”

  She turned, and Soma saw no fear in her clear green eyes. The way in which she addressed them, Soma felt it should have scared him. It should have sent a trickle of cold sweat down his spine or made his hair stand on end. But the almost friendly tone of her voice made Soma want to lower his guard.

  “How did you-“ Soma said when Axelin shot her. She grunted when the dart hit her neck, then exhaled, eyes fluttering, and tipped forward. Soma thought she would hit the floor and shatter into pieces like an expensive vase. Instead Axelin caught her and threw her over his shoulder.

  “We’ll need an atmo bag for this one, ‘ay Sergeant?”

  Soma dropped his pistol and exhaled. He shook his head and felt like he was coming out of a half-asleep dream. When he came to himself and followed Axelin out of the bedroom he found the remainder of Alpha Team laying out what looked like a body bag but with a clear window where the inhabitant’s face would be. Axelin laid the girl onto the open bag and then Keln and Doff folded the top over and zipped it up.

  “No sign of the bodyguard, Sergeant,” Kornall reported.

  “Any unusual contraband?” Soma asked.

  “Negative, sir. If they brought anything on board, it’s not here.”

  Soma nodded.

  “You want me to carry her, sir?” Doff asked.

  “Negative,” Soma replied. “I’ll do it.”

  Soma unplugged and unwound an air hose from the pressurized bag and then plugged it into his suit’s supply port. Then he lifted the girl over his shoulder.

  “Charlie Team, any trouble?” he asked over the comms.

  “Negative, sir,” Dakkin replied.

  “Copy that. Hold fire, we’re coming out with the target.”

  Soma nodded to Kornall, who led Alpha Team out of the room.

  Once they met up with Dakkin and the rest Soma said. “Okay, Charlie Team, lead the way back. Alpha, you’re covering the rear.

  “She’s got a nice one, too,” Private Axelin said. Soma could almost see the usual scuff-eating sneer on the man’s already ugly face through the helmet.

  Soma ignored the comment, just happy to be back on the move. He freed Alpha Team’s weapons and could hear a collective sigh as the team holstered the little dart pistols and equipped their assault repeaters.

  The return trip through the service corridors was quick and boring. The only doors they had to override were the ones that made up the improvised airlock between the evacuated corridors and the pressurized governor’s suite. Once they were through that, Soma opened comms with Mako’s Bravo Team.

  “Bravo Team,” Soma said. “We have the target and are Oscar Mike to your location.”

  “Copy that, Sergeant,” Mako said in his brusque voice. “Better step on it. We’re getting hit with a lot of resistance.”

  “This is the Meritine Guard, they’re the governor’s elite marine unit.”

  “Yes sir,” Mako spat back. “Still not as elite as us.”

  “Hoo-ra!” Shouted the rest of Bravo Team.

  “They pushed Eagle squad back and now are coming at us from their original point of retreat and the door Eagle blasted open when we got here.”

  “Thirty seconds, Bravo Team,” Soma said. “Then pop nades and blackout smoke and cover our retreat.”

  “Do we have to call it a retreat?” Axelin whined.

  “Lock down that slack, private,” Kornall ordered.

  “Sir, yes sir,” Axelin replied.

  Twenty-seven seconds later, Charlie Team reached their exit hatch. Dakkin, now in possession of the device, ran the override program and opened the hatch.

  “Mako,” Soma said, “We’re here. Lay down some cover fire and then drop smoke and follow us.”

  “Affirmative, sir.”

  “If anybody’s got juice left in their energy shields, now’s the time to spend it. Alright, Charlie, go!”

  Dakkin reignited his energy shield and led the way out, facing the forward enemy position. The rest of Charlie Team fanned out, taking cover positions and laying into the forward position.

  “Kornall, Doff, with me!” Soma called.

  Kornall reignited his energy shield as well and followed Soma, facing the enemy coming from the side door. Doff followed suit, adding his own fire to the mix. Once they reached the hole to the gunship, Doff stowed his weapon, climbed into the gunship and then took the girl from Soma.

  “Get her to medical, STAT!” Soma said and disengaged the air hose from his suit.

  “Yes sir,” Doff said, carrying the target out of sight and out of harm’s way.

  Soma drew his repeater, found some cover and laid down his own fire.

  “Raven Squad,” he shouted, “We are leaving!”

  “Popping smoke!” Mako called back.

  Two of his men cast high-explosive plasma grenades at the enemy lines while Mako and his last teammate dropped blackout grenades. For a second, all of Charlie Team was gone behind the pixelated noise of the blackout fog. Then, one by one, they emerged from the cover, staying low as they ran for the gunship.

  “Go, go, go,” Soma called to them as they passed him and climb
ed aboard the gunship. “Charlie Team, move!”

  Dakkin waved his men back and Charlie Team rushed towards the gunship. Mako and the rest of Bravo helped them aboard.

  Meanwhile Soma had knife’s work. Mako had dropped his blackout grenades in such a position that any crewmen of the Elpizio would have no cover if they chose to brave their way through it. But, as he said before, these were elite governor’s guard, and their commanders apparently determined they were elite enough to break through and halt Raven Squad’s escape.

  One, two, three enemy marines emerged from the blackout smoke. They might as well have shot themselves. Soma dropped one while Alpha Team killed the other two.

  Stop coming you fools, Soma thought, practically prayed. They did not stop.

  Another fireteam emerged from the blackout smoke and Soma and Alpha Team mowed them down.

  “Alpha Team, move.”

  Soma could imagine the cries of those dying Meritine marines coming through to their sergeant. He hoped the enemy commander would be haunted enough to halt their approach. Apparently not.

  “Sergeant,” Kornall called. “We’re in, come on!”

  Soma turned and bolted for the hole to the gunship and security. He leapt, put a foot on the bulkhead of the Elpizio and then dove, feeling the rush of his breakfast turning in his stomach as he left the gravity field of one ship and entered that of the other, perpendicular to the first. Mako was there to keep him from hitting the deck with his faceplate.

  “Thanks!” Soma called. “Banc, close it up. Pilot, disengage, we’re going home.”

  Heading towards his seat Soma looked for Doff.

  “Doff, what is the state of our prisoner?”

  “Unconscious, stable and strapped down in the medical bay.”

  “Very good,” Soma said.

  “Sergeant,” Banc called. “We have pressure again.”

  Soma confirmed with the atmospheric console in his HUD that the cabin of the gunship was indeed re-pressurized before disassembling his helmet. Naval experience, not mistrust of his interface tech, dictated so. Soma took a second to wipe his brow of sweat. These armored suits never managed to keep him cool in the middle of combat. He called out to Kornall.

  “Lance Corporal,” Soma said. “What’s our casualties?”

  “Three wounded, sir. The worst was Yulari but the med tech says he’ll patch up okay.”

  “Well done, Raven Squad.”

  The cabin filled with a celebratory roar, given added power by the sound of the gunship’s engines firing, taking them away from the Elpizio. Soma pulled down his command screen and requested a comm channel to his commanding officer. Only then did he command the squad to simmer down.

  After a few seconds, Lieutenant Heather Garin’s movie star features popped up on his screen. Her full lips held that slight tick of a smile.

  “Sergeant Cross, report.”

  “Lieutenant,” Cross said. “Mission accomplished. We have the target alive and on board.”

  “Say again, Sergeant,” the Lieutenant said over his last word. “Did you say you have the target?”

  “Affirmative, ma’am.”

  “Please provide a visual confirmation, sergeant.”

  The Lieutenant’s doubt surprised Soma.

  “Yes ma’am,” Soma said. He tapped a few buttons, pulling up the video feed from his helmet cameras. Then he scrolled to the point where the girl’s face was on screen and clear. He stopped right at the point where she had addressed him by name and turned around. Those clear, fearless eyes looked at him again, seeing through the armor, and even through his skin and bones. If the Scions of Benefaction were right, and Soma had a soul, he’d have guessed that’s what she was seeing.

  Soma snapped out of his reverie and sent the portion of video to the Lieutenant. She paused.

  “Hmm,” Lieutenant Garin said. “No, that checks out.”

  “May I ask what the confusion was about, Lieutenant?”

  “We have fighters chasing after the emergency shuttle,” she replied. “We were sure the target would be in the shuttle. What about the bodyguard?”

  “Naboris was a no-show. Maybe he took the shuttle to cut and run while he had the chance?”

  “Maybe,” the Lieutenant said. “We’ll know more once we catch up with that shuttle. As for you and Raven Squad, good work. See you for debriefing on the Hamartiya.”

  “Yes ma’am,” Soma said.

  Just as the channel cut out Soma heard Starman Banc calling.

  “Sergeant, you’ve got to see this!” Banc said, his otherwise monotone voice now rising in shock.

  Soma switched his monitor to mirror Banc’s and felt his mouth go agape. The Alliance ships were firing on the Elpizio. Boom, boom, boom, the Elpizio’s energy shields flared in a panoply of colors like polar lights. Then they failed, and the next shot struck the Elpizio about half way between the aft end and dead center. He saw a series of eruptions around the impact site and then the screen went all white.

  Soma was thankful the viewscreen couldn’t get as bright as the real thing. The rest of the squad were now murmuring. They had heard Banc’s call and were looking at the explosion, two or three to a screen.

  “By the Benefactors!” someone gasped. “Sawking void,” said another. Soma could only sit and watch as the light dissipated and all that was left of the Elpizio were tiny, glowing chunks of debris.

  Chapter Three:

  Just and Unjust Alike

  Salazar Kol shrugged on his Kalikian silk vest, the one with the diamond pattern, and fastened the ivory buttons over his white shirt. After examining himself in the mirror, he ran his fingers through his long platinum hair, straightened the vest with one sharp tug, and then fished through his bureau for the box containing his obsidian cufflinks. He opened the box, removed the cufflinks and affixed them to the stiff cuffs of his shirt.

  He felt his ears perk up when the door to his quarters slid open.

  “Cufflinks for a meeting with some scruffy rebels, Sal?” Sabella Nandine’s voice was laden with incredulity. She had been Salazar’s friend, first mate and occasional bed partner for years. There was little she didn’t know about him. But her comment reminded Salazar that she did not yet know everything. He smiled.

  “Chief Lekem isn’t a scruffy rebel,” Salazar retorted, refusing to look at Sabella’s reflection in the mirror. “He’s the chieftain of the largest tribe on the continent and an esteemed member of this system’s oligarchy before his entanglement with the Alliance.”

  His cufflinks attached, he now turned around. Sabella stood inside the doorway to his quarters, arms crossed. Full scarlet lips pursed into a grin, her long, golden hair fallen about her shoulders in big, lazy curls.

  “And,” Sal finished, “he gave me these cufflinks.”

  If she was embarrassed about insulting an obvious friend of his it didn’t show.

  “Shouldn’t you be on the bridge executing our break from N-space, first mate Nandine?”

  Her grin turned into a playful sneer.

  “I came down to let you know we’ll be making planetfall in ten minutes. Besides, I told you I’ve been giving Kahula lessons,” she said. “She’s doing it.”

  “You’re trusting a barely-trained pilot to execute an N-slip break in close orbit to a planet, and you’re not even there to keep an eye on things?”

  “I think I’m much more valuable keeping an eye on things here. I’m sad I missed the juicy part.” Sabella shot her eye brows up twice. “Besides we won’t break N-space for a whole--“ she checked the time on her wrist link— “three minutes, forty seven seconds.”

  “Then get back in there and make sure Kahula doesn’t bury us halfway to the planet’s core.”

  “Aye, sir, Captain sir,” Sabella said, and gave him a flourishing two-finger salute. Then she turned, swinging her lovely hips at him for good measure, and left. The door slid shut behind her with barely a sound.

  Salazar shook his head and sighed. Why had he chosen to ke
ep such a large crew of women? They were about as good at following orders as a league of feral cats.

  He turned back to the bureau and pulled one of the small, flat drawers on the right. From this he pulled a box made of sweet-smelling wood stained in a pale amber color. He set the box on the bureau’s tabletop, released the silver latch and opened it. Nestled in the form-fitting interior upholstered in red silk was his laser pistol and a small bandolier of three cylindrical magazines.

  The weapon was unusual to say the least. Its shape was a single, elegant curve from butt to barrel. Nothing protruded from the shape save the trigger guard, the magazine release and the aiming sites. Likewise, there was no mat-black carbon exterior. This pistol had a grip of rich, dark wood, and its barrel was covered in silver done in magnificent scrollwork.

  Salazar lifted the pistol out of the box, made sure it was loaded, and then attached it to the magnetic holster inside his vest. Then he took the band of spare magazines and attached it to the opposite magnetic clamp.

  Sal pulled another drawer and found the small earpiece inside. After attaching the piece, which worked as a combination speaker and microphone, behind his ear, he grabbed his link and made sure the ear piece was synchronized.

  “Comm. check,” Sal said. “Comm. check.”

  “I read you loud and clear, Captain,” Kahula Kai said over the channel in her strange over-enunciated accent.

  “Copy that,” Sal said. “How are we doing?”

  “We’ll be dropping out of N-space in sixty seconds,” Sabella said over the open channel. “Local security watches orbit pretty hard so buckle up for a hard drop.”

  Sal pulled back the sleeve of his shirt and curled his link, attaching it to the smart skin underneath. He made sure all the loose boxes and drawers were put away and locked down. That done, Sal took one last look in the mirror. He nodded, smiled, and left.

  The corridors of his ship, the Jessamine, were empty. His crew were all manning their positions: officers in the bridge, engineers in engineering, deck crew in the loading bay. They were all cogs in a well-oiled clock, ready to be wound.

 

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