Remnant

by Dwayne A Thomason

  Nix turned around to face her, broke the seals in his faceplate and lifted it up. “Okay, it’s safe.”

  Ashla disengaged the seals on her helmet and lifted it off her head. She took a deep breath of the station’s air. It was strange to her how the station’s air smelled differently than the air from her cannister. She figured they must have come from the same place. But the station didn’t have the metallic smell the cannister air had.

  Ashla noticed this airlock had similar lockers for air cannisters and helmets. Nix plugged his breathing kit into a refill socket, then he hung the helmet on the hook above it. He turned, took Ashla’s equipment and did the same.

  “Ready?” he asked.

  Ashla pulled her borrowed cap out, donned it, then nodded. Nix tapped another button on the console, grabbed the key, then paused. He pulled the pistol he had gotten from Dothin, tabbed a lever on the side, then took a deep breath. He pulled the key out. The airlock door opened. Nix threw the key’s chain around his neck and then lifted the pistol with both hands in a close approximation to how they did it in the vids.

  Nix stepped out into some kind of workshop. Ashla could see tool shelves and racks on the far wall, flanking a wide double-door and a vehicle lift to one side.

  Ashla followed him out. Her body weighed something again. She put a hand out to a locker to steady herself as her knees buckled under the new, old weight.

  Nix turned. “Are you okay?” He didn’t seem to notice the change in gravity.

  Ashla nodded. “I don’t think I was ready to weigh something again.”

  “Well, take a minute to get used to yourself.” Nix stepped up to one of the doors and looked out a small window cut into it. He was so awkward with the weapon in his hands. “This is the north workshop. And—”

  “Wait a minute,” Ashla said, feeling her face scrunch up in confusion. “How do you determine north on a space station?”

  “Well,” Nix tapped his foot on the floor. “The floor is oriented to point towards the sun, so if you looked straight down and could see through all the decks of the station you’d be looking right at Antarus.”

  “Okay.”

  “And north points to the galactic core, which is back the way we came.” Nix pointed back to the airlock door. “And we need to get to the West heavy storage bays.”

  Ashla didn’t take long to get reacquainted with her weight. “Okay, I’m ready.”

  Nix turned to her. “We’re almost to your ship. We’re going to have to move through sections of the docks to get there, though.”

  Ashla nodded. Images of Dothin leading her through the cavernous portions of the station where containers that would almost fit Luna were being loaded on and off huge cargo ships. “I remember.”

  “Only now marines will be overseeing them, so we might have to sneak around a bit.”

  “Okay.”

  Nix nodded. He peaked through the window again.

  “Okay, we’re clear so far.”

  He opened the doors and stepped out. Ashla followed. Beyond the workshop Ashla entered a massive room. Far to her left was a docking berth for one of those big cargo ships. No ship was docked there, though, leaving a huge, empty hole in the station pointing to a black field of stars, with a localized energy barrier keeping the air inside.

  All throughout the room there stood stacks and stacks of the huge shipping containers she remembered from before, some stacked six high. Cranes hung from the ceiling. One within view still held a container suspended four or five meter above her. To her right Ashla saw an unpacking station with two containers opened and their contents spread about. Lift trucks sat parked there, some loaded with boxes, some empty. The whole area seemed devoid of life.

  Nix, still holding the pistol awkwardly in his hands, crouched low and ran to a stack of containers towards the right. Ashla ran after him. Nix put his back to the container, sidled to one edge and then peaked around the corner.

  Ashla sidled up next to him. “Where is everybody?”

  Nix shook his head. “Well, with the blockade no ships are leaving and those incoming were probably rerouted to other stations, so there’s no work to be done until things start back up again. But be careful. Marines are likely still patrolling about.” He peaked again, lifted the pistol and turned the corner. Ashla kept up behind him, following him through a corridor-like space between two rows of stacked containers.

  Nix padded towards the containers on his left and then stopped where the containers did. Again, he sidled up to the corner and peaked. There was no cover between them and a packing station lined with heavy shelves loaded with boxes. Larger boxes sat on the floor in stacks, ready to be loaded onto the waiting open container.

  He looked back at Ashla. “This area’s really open. I think we should cross one at a time.”

  “Okay.”

  “I’ll go first, then wave you over, and cover you, okay?”

  Ashla nodded.

  Nix peeked back around the corner, then trotted off towards a pallet loaded with boxes about six meters away, his head darting back and forth, trying to see in all directions at once. He made it to the pallet without incident, then crouched behind it. He looked around again, then waved her over.

  Ashla ran to the pallet and crouched behind it. Nix turned, looked again, then ran behind the big shelving unit. He peaked around the corner of the shelf, looked, then waved her over again.

  Ashla stood and ran to the shelf. Nix led her on, keeping the shelving unit to their left. When he came to the end of it, Nix stopped and peered around the corner. He pointed to a door eight or nine meters away and to the right. “That’s our way out to the cargo blocks.”

  Ashla looked and furrowed her brow. The door was barely visible behind a tall crate in the middle of the aisle between the wall and another big shelving unit, but Ashla could see the red light on the console. “It’s locked. How are we going to get through?”

  Nix pulled his backpack off his back and set it on the floor, kneeling. He rifled through it then pulled a small crowbar from it. “I can manage it. I just need a minute. Wait here until I get the door unlocked.”

  “Alright,” Ashla said.

  Nix strapped his backpack on, held the crowbar in his left hand and the pistol in his right. He peeked a look around the corner again, then ran for it. Ashla waited. Nix knelt in front of the door, set the pistol on the floor before him and then took the crowbar in both hands. He guided the straight, flat end of it between the door and the frame, jiggled it a little, then slotted it in further. That done he pulled on the bar. He put his feet against the door and then pushed with his legs and pulled with his arms.

  Ashla heard a sharp, metallic thunk and Nix fell backwards onto his back. Ashla gasped. Nix sat back up, stuck his crowbar back in his backpack. Then he stood and pushed on the door. The door squeaked as it slid open.

  Ashla saw the new exit and ran for it. Another door, far to her left slid open and heavy footsteps sounded on the decking. From the corner of her eye she saw two marines in combat armor, armed with big repeaters. They hadn’t seen her yet.

  Ashla turned to dive behind cover again. Her feet intertwined. She slipped and fell. Her hands slapped the decking hard, the sound echoing like a series of diminishing firecrackers.

  “Halt!” one of the Marines said. Ashla turned and saw them both running towards her, weapons raised. She froze.

  Chapter Thirty:

  Enemies Pursue Me

  Now freed of the need to protect children, Salazar followed Dothin. The man was well acquainted with what seemed like a labyrinthine burrow of corridors and rooms.

  “This is sort of the back-alley way to get to your landing bays,” Dothin said. “The marines will have a map of these sections, but they won’t be as familiar with them as I am.”

  “Dothin,” Naboris called over the shared channel.

  Dothin pointed left at a t-junction. “I read you, Gan.”

  “I got Ashla and your boy off to No Man’s Land, and I a
m en route to the control station to release the Jessamine.”

  Dothin sighed. “Thank you.”

  “I’m also blinding the security system as best I can along the way, but it won’t keep you entirely out of trouble.”

  Sal looked to Dothin for further directions. Dothin pointed towards a stairway to the left. Sal led the group down it and said, “We’ll take what we can get. Thanks, Naboris. Good luck.”

  “Likewise.”

  “There they are!”

  Sal dove behind a bulkhead as laser fire cracked overhead so close he could feel the heat on his face. He had to remind himself, again, that these were hardened Alliance marines, not the local security he was used to.

  Keeping his elbow tucked in tight to his side he leaned his arm out to make a few blind shots at the marines. One of three marines. “Dothin. This way is no good. Any ideas?”

  Dothin, taking cover behind the opposite bulkhead, pointed to something behind Salazar. “We can go this way.”

  Sal turned and looked at the door, and the red light on the console. “It’s locked.”

  “I’m pretty sure I can get through it. Cover me.”

  Sal nodded. “You heard him Kid.”

  Vance, taking cover behind a stack of metal boxes, switched his modified repeater to full-auto and lit into the marines. In an instant two dozen glowing, smoking holes erupted in the walls down the hall. Dothin rushed across the corridor to the doorway.

  “I’m out,” Vance called. “Switch.”

  Salazar knelt and then leaned out from behind the bulkhead and started firing into the doorway, pulling the trigger as fast as he could.

  On the eighth pull the weapon gave a pitiful buzz and Salazar hugged his cover. “I’m out. Dothin!”

  “We’re through!”

  “Go,” Vance said. “I’ll cover.”

  Salazar reloaded, then nodded at the Kid. Vance directed another hail of fire down the hall and Salazar rushed through the doorway. The room beyond was dark. Dothin took cover on one side of the doorway and so Sal took up position on the opposite side.

  “Gan,” Dothin said, “could you use my link to apply a lock to a door?”

  “I think so,” Gan said over the group channel. “It won’t hold them for more than a few minutes, though.”

  “I’ll take it.”

  “Hold on.”

  Salazar looked at Vance. He lifted his left hand and showed him three fingers. Two. One. Zero. Salazar leaned out and fired at the encroaching marines. Vance crouched low and dove through the doorway, laser beams cracking all around him.

  As soon as the Kid was through, Dothin shut the door and then held his link up to the console. The light turned red. “Okay,” Dothin said. “Let’s go.”

  He led them through a long, dark room. Metal mesh shelving units stood against the long walls and a pair stood back-to-back between them, bisecting the room into two aisles.

  “I’m on my last clip, Sal,” The Kid said.

  Salazar checked the little bandolier hung beneath his vest. He had one unused magazine left for his own pistol. “Yeah. I’m low too.”

  “What do we do?”

  Dothin chuckled. “Use less ammunition.”

  “Very sawking funny, gramps.”

  Dothin opened the door on the far side of the room, checked left and right, then stepped out. He put his link to the door to lock it once Sal and Vance followed.

  “By the way,” Salazar said, “How did you open that door. Did Naboris do it?”

  “No.” The console turned red. Dothin pulled a second link out of his pocket. “I used this.”

  Salazar blinked, pointed. “That’s not your link.”

  “Nope. Belongs to a friend of mine. She works up in admin.” Dothin pointed and started leading the group down another set of back-alley corridors, some so tight they had to walk through them one at a time.

  “She?” Vance, covering the rear, said. “Girlfriend?”

  “I’m old enough to be her father.”

  Vance scoffed. “Woah. My respect for you has improved, gramps.”

  Dothin turned to Sal with a look that was half disgust and half concern. “Does the galaxy have you to blame for what comes out of this kid’s mouth or should we seek another?”

  “He is my protégé, but he still has a mind of his own, for good or ill.”

  “Hey!” Vance called, sounding sullen.

  “So how does an admin’s link get you through navy security?” Salazar asked.

  Dothin turned left at an intersection. He shook his head. “It doesn’t. But Lodebar isn’t an Alliance station. It’ll take them time to overhaul the security to Navy specs so in the meantime anyone on the administrative team has access all over the station.”

  “Or anyone with an administrative link.”

  Dothin nodded. “And her pin number.”

  “You dog, you,” Vance said.

  “Her pin?” Sal asked.

  Dothin stopped at a hatch. He lifted the stolen link to the console and tapped in a series of numbers.

  Sal furrowed his brow. “Six, four, five, six?”

  “In alpha-numeric crossover it spells N, I, K, O.”

  “Jin, Sal, his girl’s got a thing for his—”

  Dothin silenced Vance with a forefinger pointed at the skin between his eyes. “I don’t want to hear another fowl word come out of your mouth. You hear?”

  Vance nodded. Sal kept his face smooth and expressionless, but inside he was smiling his respect for the older man.

  Dothin dropped his finger and nodded. He put the link away and opened the hatch.

  Sal looked back at Vance and couldn’t help but smile at the sullen look on the kid’s face.

  Dothin peaked out the hatch, nodded, and entered through it. Salazar followed into the massive reception area he remembered when he first entered the station. The big, central lift column stood in the center of a circular room. Doorways led to all the small-ship landing bays on this level. Before each big set of doors was a curved desk and chair where a receptionist would check people in and out. There were little bar areas where people could have a drink while they waited for their flight. There were bays of seats where people could sit. There were kiosks visitors could use to connect to the local grid. Above them stood colorful holographic advertisements. The walls were lined with screens, but these were all dark. The whole room was empty.

  “Which berth was yours?” Dothin asked.

  Sal pointed at the big door marked with a ’94.’ “Bay ninety-four.”

  Sal led the trio through the huge, quiet room. Walking through a massive public space, now empty, made the hairs on the back of Sal’s neck stand up. “I don’t like this. Where are the marines?”

  “They must’ve completed their sweep of this area already,” Dothin said.

  Sal shook his head. His trigger finger kept tapping the trigger guard of his laser pistol. “I don’t like it.”

  He grabbed his link and switched to the channel he shared with his crew. “Bel. How are we doing?”

  “We’ve powered the Jessamine up as much as we can but we’re trying to be stealthy, so the main engines are still cold. Of course, even if we turned them on, we’re not going anywhere unless your new friend gets the clamps off.”

  “Can we shoot the clamps off if Naboris can’t unlock us?”

  “No,” Sabella said. “Station admin is smarter than you. Part of the lockdown includes forcing the ship’s guns into a hard shut-down. We have some hard ordinance but nothing that won’t damage the Jess any less than the clamps.”

  “Okay well...” Sal stopped. Something Sabella said tickled his mind. “Why did you say you didn’t start the engines.”

  “We’re trying to be stealthy here.”

  Dothin stepped up to the console and put his stolen link up to it and tapped out the pin number. The console turned green.

  “Why?” Sal asked.

  The big doors slid open, hydraulics whining.

  “Be
cause there’s a couple of marines here inside the bay.”

  The Jessamine sat, sleek and shining, in the center of her berth. From here Sal could see the clamps protruding from cavities in the deck and latching onto the Jessamine’s belly. Her loading bay was up and sealed as was her forward crew entrance. The bay was otherwise empty except for the two marines standing under the Jessamine.

  The marines turned and saw them immediately, raising their weapons.

  “Halt!” one called.

  Another shouted, “Contact, landing bay ninety four!”

  Sal lifted his weapon, an act of sheer instinct and started drumming his finger on the trigger. His first shot went between the marine on the left’s legs. His second impacted armor, as did his third and fourth and fifth. His sixth perforated the marine’s breastplate and his seventh and eight landed. The marine fired back but soon his aim went high and to the side as he fell backward.

  The Kid switched his repeater to burst shot and fired three-bolt bursts at the marine on the right. As he did he rushed forward, head low, closing the distance. Vance’s modified particle repeater had a lot more stopping power than Salazar’s laser pistol, and the marine jerked with each shot. His weapon arm raised to fight back, but then dropped again as one of Vance’s bolts connected with the less armored smartskin underneath the ceramic pauldron. Finally, one of the Kid’s bolts smashed through the marine’s faceplate. He made one more jerk and then collapsed to the floor.

  “Kol!” Dothin shouted. “Behind us!”

  Sal turned as Dothin spun in and around the doorframe. These marines didn’t hesitate. They came out of the lift in the center of the huge receiving room and fired even as they ran for cover.

  The Kid dove for the wall beside the doorframe, opposite Dothin. Sal, firing back ran for cover beside Dothin. “Close it!”

  “I know!” Dothin said, lifting his link to the console.

  Sal chanced a peak and saw the marines closing in. “A whole sawking squad of them.”

  Dothin shouted. “Yes! Got it!”

  The doors slid shut and the ear-blasting crackling of fire stopped.

  Sal sighed and patted Dothin on the back. “Great job. But that won’t hold them long.” He switched to the ship channel. “Bel, drop the loading bay and send the boys out, armed. We need ammo too.”