The Resistance- The Complete Series

by Nathan Hystad

  Flint’s suit had built-in thrusters, but he didn’t trust them as far as he could throw a dead body, which he’d learned wasn’t very far. Instead, he attached a tether to his belt, clamping him onto his own ship… just in case.

  Kat came out of the engineering room and stood behind him. “Bombs are ready. You sure this is the only way?”

  The good news was, she was still coming to him for direction, so he hadn’t lost her faith entirely. Flint couldn’t afford for her to go off the deep end here. He’d barely been hanging on over the years, and having her around had kept him going. He decided, then and there, that he would cut her loose as soon as he could. Maybe even on Europa, if she was willing. It was as good a colony as any; far better than Mars, and better than any of the old cities on Earth.

  Kat could start over. She was still young. Flint had an inkling of what the rest of his life was going to look like. He’d spend the next couple years trying to hide out from what he’d just done, and then it would eventually come back on him. Some down-on-their-luck local, on whatever crappy rock Flint set his roots down on, would sell him out to the Fleet, and he’d end up hauling rocks on Mercury until he died.

  “Flint?” she asked, and he realized he hadn’t answered her question.

  “Yes. I’m sure we don’t have another choice. Now get back to our ship, and when I turn the magnetic field off, I’ll come floating out back to you. Deal?”

  Kat looked at him with soft green eyes, and Flint hoped he hadn’t been a disappointment to her. He’d only wanted to do right by her. He was, in every sense, her older brother; at least, that was how it felt. She called him a creepy-uncle type, though their ages weren’t quite that far apart. Every time she said it, there was a twitch of her lip, like she was refraining from a full-out laugh.

  “Deal.” Kat turned and left the Earth Fleet ship. “I’m on board. Shoot it loose and get back over here. That’s an order, Lancaster.”

  “Maybe I should let you call the shots for a while.” Flint used their console, finding the mag-field release. It was easy work. Before pressing it, he stepped over the three Fleet bodies and made sure the bombs were activated. Kat had done a good job. When he was back in the room with the bunks, he tapped the release button, feeling the Recon vessel break free from the outer wall of his freighter.

  He followed his tether and jumped as the Recon ship slowly floated away, pulling himself along as he did so. Flint had done a lot of crazy things in his life, and jumping in space from a Fleet ship with nothing but a rope attached to his suit felt like it might be near the top of the list. He tried not to think about the infinite space between him and anything at that moment and kept pulling, finding himself quickly back at the energy field keeping space from his cargo bay. He passed through and rolled on the ground, ending on his stomach, arms stretched out front of his torso.

  Kat slapped a palm to the console and the large metal slab fell down again, sealing them in. Flint would have to get the normal hatch fixed when they got to Europa, since the Fleet had cut it wide open. A few times in his life, he’d considered the lengths he’d gone to in securing and prepping his ship a little overdone. Now he was giving himself props for the forward thinking. Without the door being sealed, the Fleet could have escaped.

  Flint unclasped his EVA helmet and dropped it to the deck, heading for the bridge. Kat didn’t say anything, but he could hear her following after him. Her steps were quick and short. They both sat down, and he flipped the viewscreen to zoom in on the floating EFR-05. Flint passed the tablet to Kat. “The honors are yours.”

  She shook her head. “I’ve done enough damage for a day. You do it.”

  He nodded grimly, thinking about the lives they’d snuffed out, and pressed the icon. The ship exploded, the flames sputtering out in a flash. Thousands of pieces floated about in a cloud of debris.

  Flint rose. He needed a change and a shower to wash the stench of death out of his hair. “Let’s go. Prep the engines.”

  Kat took his seat. Her voice was small and tinny. “Flint, the engines won’t start.”

  CD6

  CD6 would have been sweating if he’d had an organic body. Instead, he considered the possibility of frying his own power source as he waited. It got worse. CD6 was in his charging station, having only arrived there a short time before, when the alert came through the server.

  UNUSUAL BEHAVIOR HAS BEEN LOGGED. SECTOR 2.667 PREPARE FOR NEURAL WIPE.

  That was his sector. He had to get out of there. This had only happened once before in his tenure at the prison, and he’d been spared the wipe. CD6 had no idea if his consciousness would disappear after such an event or not, and he wasn’t willing to take the chance.

  He stepped off the charging plate and into the hall. He had to move quickly. Heading to the sector over, he found twenty androids halfway into their shut-down period. They all looked the same, so he didn’t fret over which guard he used.

  Moving behind one, he opened the back panel to find an interface. Here, IDs could be accessed and, if you knew how, reprogrammed. Luckily for CD6, no one had expected an android to have free will, so the details on how to do such a thing were free to access on the server.

  This particular android was named RT4, but more importantly, each android had a unique serial number associated with its name. CD6 took the long string that made up his own serial number and deftly programmed it into RT4’s interface. He then changed the android’s name to CD6 and switched him to manual drone mode, which would allow a malfunctioning android to mimic the movements of the lead android.

  One in front of the other, they walked back down the hall toward CD6’s station. He placed the guard into his own charging station and turned the manual mode off. The android stayed put, his readout showing him as CD6.

  Noise came from down the corridor, and he knew the maintenance droids were coming for a neural wipe of his whole sector. It was time to leave. He ran now, past the nineteen other androids he’d shared a space with for forty years, knowing he’d never see any of them again. He was fine with that.

  CD6 watched as the hovering ball-shaped androids floated into the sector, making for the first guard who was powered down. One of the maintenance droids stuck a plug into the android’s back, and blue energy coursed through it.

  “Wipe complete, EI2. Next,” it said, hovering to the next station. CD6 watched in revulsion before turning and running down the empty corridor toward even more danger.

  11

  Wren

  Just when Wren had given up hope of a rescue really happening, she heard his footsteps. She got up, tucking the stunner inside her jumpsuit. She trusted the drawstring would give enough tension to hold it up.

  The energy field dropped, and CD6 stood like a hero from an old tale, a shadow in the dimly-lit space. He waved her toward him.

  “Come. We mustn’t wake the others.” His steps were fast, quieter than she thought possible. The guard androids had to weigh half a ton with all that metal. They raced by the cells, and she saw Mara’s cell now had someone else inside it. She almost paused to see if perhaps CD6 had been wrong or had lied about Mara being dead, but it was true. The cot was filled by a large bald woman, tattoos covering her scalp.

  “There’s no time for this,” CD6 whispered, his voice oddly human. Who was this android? It went against everything Wren knew about robotics. She’d had numerous android assistants in the labs, and they were solely there to work, with no cognitive superiority to anything but their programming. Was CD6 merely an android programmed to break her out? The thought almost stopped Wren in her tracks. Where was he going to take her?

  She kept moving, because anywhere was better than the Uranus Mining Prison for Women. They headed for the back stairs, which Wren hadn’t even known existed. CD6 moved with efficiency, leading her down the steps and along the wall of the central lift room. She ran down the hall she stood in line at every day before heading back to her cell, and hoped she would never see it again.

  CD6 tu
rned, making sure she was still coming along, and waved her forward, as if he had to tell her twice. They went through a maze of doors and halls, a labyrinth inside the prison. She knew CD6 would have the schedules mapped out and was leading them on a path where no guards were stationed. It felt like it took forever, and Wren was breathing hard by the time they reached the end of a hall.

  “This is it. We’ve made it.” CD6 tapped a code into a keypad beside a gray door, and Wren pulled her stunner free. She wasn’t going into that room empty-handed.

  The door hissed open, and the room beyond was pitch black. CD6 grabbed his gun too, and Wren felt better for it. Lights came on as they stepped inside, high-up strips mounted to the two-hundred-foot ceilings.

  She saw it then. Freedom. The ship was unique, and Wren hadn’t seen its type before. It was shaped like an X: two of the wings acted as landing gear, and the thrusters were stacked on one another, the top thruster round and twice the size of the lower.

  “It’s empty?” she asked.

  “Supposedly,” came the reply.

  They crossed the room, Wren with her stunner held up close to her chest. CD6 moved quickly, and she struggled to keep up with him. He reached the ship first and found the hatch to get inside before she arrived. He already had it open when the alarms began wailing. Red lights flashed all along the hangar walls.

  “They know. We have to go.” CD6 stepped into the opening, reaching a hand down, which she took. It was cool to the touch.

  Wren’s heart was pounding in rhythm with the klaxons, each beat echoing the alarm. The entrance to the ship was compact, just wide enough for one person – or android – at a time. She could tell the ship was only meant as a passenger vessel, likely made to carry ten people at its maximum capacity. A couple would be crew, the rest prisoners sent to the mining outpost, far away from civilization.

  “Do you know how to fly this?” she asked CD6, who stopped and shut the door behind him by tapping an icon inside the ship. It sealed and hissed as it locked airtight. She knew there would be an energy field around the exterior as well, protecting them from space once they were out there.

  “I do not know how to fly it,” he answered.

  They could still hear alarms, though the thick hull muffled the noise. “Then how do we get out of here?” Wren yelled, sweat dripping down her forehead.

  A prong extended from his index finger, and he plugged it into a console on the wall. The room they were in was compact, and since CD6 didn’t reply, clearly tied up with something, Wren took a moment to investigate her surroundings. Through a door, she found two benches, equipped with locking harnesses for the prisoners. She’d been brought here with much the same set-up. Come to think of it, maybe the ship had looked like this one. She hadn’t seen it from the outside. Down the other direction, she passed CD6, who was still standing there, finger tool inside the console, and she made it to the cockpit, where she found a clean and efficient-looking two-seater.

  “Got it,” CD6 said, moving past her.

  “Just like that? You can fly it now?” Wren asked.

  He nodded, an odd gesture from an android. “Just like that. Now buckle in tight.”

  Ace

  “Well done, recruits,” Lieutenant Clemments said once everyone was unlatched from their simulators and standing at attention at the back of the large room.

  “But we lost, sir,” one of the young women from Squadron Red said. She’d kicked butt during the drill, even though they’d ended up dead.

  The instructor actually laughed, and Ace felt ashamed. They’d been sent to rescue a Skimmer who’d lost power in enemy space. They’d failed to free the ship as they were attacked. Ace was the last ship to be destroyed, but he took little solace in the fact.

  “Your team proved to have the best scores this round, thanks to Mr. Smith here.” The lieutenant nodded toward Ace. “Well done, son. And you,” he singled out the girl from Red Squadron, who had the courtesy of turning red in the cheeks. “Do you have a call sign yet?”

  She shook her head.

  “Then I’m giving you one. Bullseye, because you were that good,” the lieutenant said.

  Ace just stood there, unsure of what to say. He was happy to have received some of the praise on his first attempt, but he did find it odd the lieutenant was already handing out call signs. “We couldn’t win?” he ended up asking.

  “The enemy are programmed to win. You didn’t have a shot at it.”

  “Then why bother?” a tall, lanky recruit asked.

  The instructor stepped in front of the kid. “Do you think you become great by coasting through things, recruit?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Then there’s your answer. We train you to fight the best so you can become the best. Three of you will be moving on to the next round. The rest will go back to infantry. We’ll let your squadron leaders know who made the cut, and they’ll relay the information. You’re free to go.” The instructor turned and left the room, leaving the ten recruits alone.

  Ace saw a few slumped shoulders in the line. A couple of them knew they wouldn’t be moving on, and Ace could make a guess at the three making it through, himself and Bullseye included. While the others stood around chatting about it, Ace walked out of the room, down the hall toward Blue Squadron’s bunk room.

  When Ace got there, the space was empty, so he went and climbed up on his bed above Buck’s, lying down on the blanket. It was the first time he’d been alone in the room, and he took the moment to stare at the dark-painted ceiling while composing his thoughts.

  He’d done it. Flying the EFF-17 was a dream, even if it was only a simulation. It had felt real, and he’d been a natural. He was so entranced with reliving the two-hour mission, he didn’t hear the footsteps leading up to his bed.

  Someone cleared their throat, and Ace jumped, startled by the noise. He spun to see Serina standing there grinning at him. “Hey, Ace. What are you doing here?”

  “I could ask you the same thing,” he said, swinging his legs to dangle over the edge of the bunk.

  “Looks like I’m going to be fast-tracked to the officers’ camp in a week.” Serina climbed up the bunk and sat beside him. She was a couple of feet away from him, but to Ace, they might as well have been sitting side-by-side, touching hips. His body temperature rose in response to her presence.

  “That’s great news.” He had to say something. The truth was, he was devastated. The boot camp was going too quickly, with far too many changes for his young mind to deal with all at once.

  “They just made major cuts. Only ten of us Blues left now. One hundred and twenty overall,” Serina said, the whole time looking forward, never meeting Ace’s eyes.

  “I’m sorry,” he said.

  “For what?”

  “I know you wanted us to all stay,” he replied.

  She laughed, a nice soft sound. “I just said that for motivation. I knew we wouldn’t last, but it sort of worked. There are more Blues than members of any other squadron.”

  Ace ran a hand over his short hair. “Then we’re doing okay.”

  “I got an alert. You passed the pilot test. You’re on to the next step.” Serina finally met his gaze, and she gave him a small smile. “I’m proud of you.”

  “Why?”

  “Why what, Ace?”

  “Why did you pay any attention to me? Why help me down on Earth?” He was curious but felt the answer coming before it did.

  “I have to come clean,” she said, and his heart beat faster. “My mother is an admiral in the Fleet. I was going to make it to officers’ camp regardless, but I wanted to go through the process. My mom was so angry when I told her I was coming to this camp as a regular recruit.”

  It wasn’t a surprise to him. He’d deduced there was something special about her familiarity with everything going on.

  “You don’t seem surprised,” she stated.

  “I’m not. But that doesn’t answer my question.”

  “About why I stuck besid
e you?” she asked, and he nodded. “I had a brother.”

  Ace’s heart sank again, and he steeled himself for what was to come. Of course Serina hadn’t been interested in him romantically. He was a skinny street kid from Old Chicago, and she was an eighteen-year-old bombshell with an Earth Fleet admiral for a mother.

  He spoke, trying to stop his voice from quivering. “What happened to him?”

  Serina looked away again. This time, he saw tears welling in her eyes. “He and my dad were traveling to see Mom and me on Earth. He was an engineer out at the Moons, you know, by Jupiter.” Ace nodded, and she continued. “The ship never made it home. Vanished. Fleet claimed it could have been pirates, but there was never any proof. That was five years ago, and we’ve never had closure. My mom still believes she’ll find him.”

  Ace felt horrible. Here he was thinking about wanting to kiss the older girl, and she was baring her heart to him about her dead family. He understood what it was like to feel loss. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Nothing you can do about it.” Serina cleared her throat again and now spoke with a firmer tone, like she’d set a barrier back up. “They’re gone, and here we are.” She hopped down, landing softly on the floor. “Ace, no matter what happens, remember me. And remember this: space is dangerous. No matter how glamorous you think being an Earth Fleet pilot is, it’s deadly.”

  “I’ll remember,” he promised. He also thought about how he’d remember her face at that moment, and how beautiful and strong she looked to him.

  “See you at dinner?” she asked.

  “You bet,” he answered.

  Serina left, and Ace couldn’t help but watch her leave. He knew they’d see each other over the course of the next week, but things wouldn’t be the same from now on. Gone were the fun looks, motivational speeches, and childlike wonder at the boot camp. This was real, and he was really getting to the next stage, without the protection of Serina and the rest of his team around him.