Project Destiny

by Justin Sloan

  For a long moment, Captain Legorn stared, his bloodshot eye twitching. “All part of the plan, Sergeant.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “We had to let them in so we could trace ‘em.”

  “You…”

  “I had no idea they’d get in far enough to infiltrate the helmets, to lead you to an ambush of sorts.”

  Stealth held up a hand, trying to process this. “A head… I saw Red’s damn head go flying past. Not connected to his body, mind you.” Now the rage was on again, and he stepped forward, swinging his helmet so that it cracked the captain across the jaw and dropped him with a groan. Stealth stood over him, shouting. “You let them in, then you as good as killed Red! What gives you the right? What—”

  Two security officers plowed into Stealth, taking him to the ground as he shouted, struggling to be free of them. Captain Legorn was holding his jaw as he climbed back to his feet.

  When he turned to them, blood flew from his mouth as he yelled, “Get that piece of dog meat out of here! I want him locked up so deep in the pits of Horus that he’s sucking metal before air. You hear me!”

  Stealth found himself being dragged away, his struggles futile. He had just given up, his escorts forcing him through the outer hall, when a woman appeared, his helmet in her hands. “Hold up, gentlemen,” she shouted after them.

  “We have our orders—oh, damn, I mean, yes, sir.” The security officer helped Stealth to stand, then took a step back, nodding for the other to do the same. The second glanced back finally, eyes going wide, and followed suit.

  It didn’t make sense that they would act this way, not unless Kyla Nor herself was here. That couldn’t be. No, he couldn’t have just acted like a complete fool in front of her, right?

  To his dismay, he turned to see that it was indeed Mrs. Nor. She stood in her double-breasted, bright yellow jacket, gold buttons gleaming and blue stripes running down the sides of her sleeves and pants. It was gaudy as hell, but went quite well with her almost gold complexion and wavy hair with gold highlights pulled into a bun.

  She was the CEO of New Origins, though she liked to refer to herself as Admiral Nor, and have everyone refer to her as sir. The sir part was normal—everyone in the military referred to women as “sir” nowadays. The Admiral part, though, had always irked Stealth. She wasn’t military. She was in charge of a multinational—now intra-galactical—corporation. One that ran operations as if it were the military of space. But not actually military.

  How nobody had the cajones to call her out on this fact, or the other CEOs that went around with titles like Admiral and General, Stealth could never understand. Different times, to be sure.

  “Sir,” he said, standing at attention.

  She smiled, cocked her head, and then held up the helmet. “It was smart of you to bring this back, considering it might be one of the only leads to figuring out who got into your helmet.”

  “Sir, Legorn said he let them in, so surely we know—”

  “We’re making a move on who we know made it in,” she replied. “And it’s Captain Legorn… a fact that you should remember, to avoid risking a stint in the brig.”

  “Risking?” he asked, a flutter of hope running through him.

  She nodded, slowly, eyes assessing him. “You lost someone today, I get it. That makes the best of us lose our cool. But here’s the thing, you assaulted an officer.”

  “Sir, I—”

  She held up a hand to cut him off. “Thing is, I’ve had my eye on you. We think your training is going well and, depending on this mission, had it in mind to put you in with Nightshade. She wants you on the team, and guess what? She outranks our dear friend Legorn there.”

  “Captain Legorn,” Stealth said, with a grin.

  She laughed. “Getting cocky already. A pivot like that… it’s commendable. If you’re open to meeting with Nightshade, possibly joining her and the Taipans, we’ll see that Mr. Legorn forgets this ever happened.”

  An image of Red flashed before Stealth’s eyes—the man doing pull-ups and chanting with each up, mumbling under his breath the motto of the Taipans, “Honor in death.” Red had wanted to be approached by them for as long as Stealth could remember, since they had been paired together over a year ago. Since that was about as far back as Stealth’s memory took him, and Red’s as well, that was saying something.

  For him, Stealth would do this. In truth, it’s what he wanted too, but had always seen it as more of a pie in the sky type dream. Never a reality. It wasn’t just that he wanted to be part of an elite group, but also because they had the highest level of clearance he knew about.

  Perhaps if he was part of them, if he had access to what they could access, he could find some answers. This could be the key to learning who the hell he was.

  He nodded. “Thank you, sir. It would be an honor.”

  “I know.”

  With that, she held up the helmet, then tossed it to him. “They’re out on a mission right now, but you’ll join one of the rear teams. Get over to the west wing, hand this to their tech guy for processing, and get suited up in the Taipans’ gear. You’re going to make a great addition to the team.”

  With that, her eyes ran across him in a way that made him feel naked. A final smile and she was off, strolling into the command room where she would presumably take care of the Captain Legorn situation.

  Stealth took a few moments to collect himself, then turned to see the security officers still standing there, staring at him with shock.

  “Quite the change of fate, huh?” Stealth commented.

  They both nodded, mumbled “yes sir,” and then stood at attention. He’d forgotten, for that moment, what being a member of the Taipans really meant. This type of respect, for one.

  “Dismissed,” he said, curiously, and watched with an amused smile as they marched off, eager to be away from the man they had been about to lock up.

  With an extra bounce in his step, he pulled up the map on his wrist and headed for the west wing, ready to get into the action again. The memory of Red was fresh and it stung, but being a member of the Taipans now, and knowing that Red would be proud, made him feel that sting that much less.

  All seriousness and his search for answers aside, he had a sudden rush of excitement. This was going to be fun… in that nerve racking, adrenaline rushing sort of way.

  4

  Alice: The Dark Passages

  Alice and Scorpio ducked through the secret passages, of which there were many on the station. It wasn’t that they were built as such, but more to do with the nature of the way the walls and rooms were constructed.

  Sometimes she found herself forgetting where she was, or that this was a space station at all. At moments like this, moving through the station’s inner belly, surrounded by alternating darkness and inconsistent neon lights, it was easier than ever. But even when she went above, walking under the domed glass outer rims and looking out at the stars, she could almost believe she was back on Earth, simply watching space.

  Days back then were much simpler, though not perfect. Dreams of a family had kept her going, though they had been put off as her husband’s military duties took precedence.

  “Soon, my love,” he would say after receiving orders. “This won’t go on forever.”

  In her mind, she still felt it—still almost believed that soon would one day come. Even without him.

  They had thought that transferring out of the Marines and into New Origins meant they could now start a family. They had even started to try, once they had received his orders. And then the news about him arrived. A training accident, they said. When she pushed for more, they refused.

  Marick had been acting strange in his calls those last couple of weeks, and part of her wondered if he knew something was wrong, that something bad was going to happen. When pressed, he’d always lash out—more furious than she’d ever seen him before. He would turn it on her, saying she was delusional, that he was in paradise and that she’d understand when
she joined him.

  This place, paradise? Even now, she had to laugh at his loose interpretation of the word. If paradise was all metal with recycled toilet paper and mediocre food, then sure.

  She had loved him more than anything, her job coming a close second. When New Origins had given her the news about his death, it had been easy to find the groups she had been working so hard to take down for years. Those same groups it was her job to uncover, she now saw for what they were—a mixture of criminals and freedom fighters. In a world where the privatized military and their bosses were deemed perfect, she could see how these groups would be labeled the enemy.

  But in her world, where she knew their claims of her husband’s death were smothered in lies, information was the weapon. Her skills could be the bullet that would be used to take down the enemy.

  Unfortunately, so far she had no idea who the true enemy was here. Was it New Origins, or simply someone in the chain? How about the governments on Earth, or Global High Command? As far as she knew, they could be anywhere.

  It was even possible that the true enemy was right here, in the black market of Space Station Horus. A traitor could very well be in her Looking Glass group, or in one of the others, manipulating New Origins or Global High Command from the outside.

  That was why she had to play her cards just right. Why she had to keep those close to her even closer. If she had allies, they could be the key to finding her answers. Getting her justice.

  “This is jacked,” Scorpio said as they paused to pull a slab of metal out of their way. “What are we going to do if the PD forces are already there? Take them on with our bare hands?”

  “I’ve been training a bit, I’ll have you know.”

  He scoffed, holding the metal so she could squeeze through first. “The day you can take on PD forces with your bare hands, remind me to bow down and kiss your feet.”

  “They aren’t gods.”

  “I’m not saying that. You would be, though, if you could take them on. Them bastards are strong, unnatural.”

  “You’re believing the rumors then?” She was through the gap now, reaching back to hold the metal for him.

  He slipped through and paused to ensure the metal didn’t make a noise when closing. “I’ve seen it, Alice. Firsthand. They don’t move like us. Quicker, stronger…”

  “Less gullible?” She winked, then continued down a narrower hall, the ceiling full of wires and trays that separated the different colors.

  “Might be the exoskeletons, might not. Point is, they’re enhanced, and they’d mop the floor with us if we tried to take them.”

  “I don’t buy all that genetic mods bull. Do they have exoskeletons? Clearly. Maybe some drugs that keep them alert or raise their testosterone, I don’t know.” She held up a hand for them to stop, hearing a sound, then motioned him forward, proceeding with caution and lowering her voice. “But I refuse to believe we’ve created some new super soldier.”

  He shrugged, then grinned. “If they have, I’m stealing the recipe and giving myself super big muscles. Imagine, this face with the body of Intrepid.”

  She scoffed. “Sounds like you’d be overcompensating for something.”

  “Is that Intrepid’s excuse?”

  “Don’t ask as if I’d know.” She turned back with a glare. One member of the team had made a joke like that once, only worse—essentially accusing her of being loose. Since she never thought of another man after the loss of Marick, such jokes were both offensive to her and women everywhere. At least, that’s how she’d seen it while pounding the guy on the nose until he’d apologized.

  That same memory must’ve been the cause of the hesitation in Scorpio’s eyes at that moment, and why he quickly shook his head.

  “I didn’t think so.” She paused, then glanced over with a smile. “Not that I was looking, but… you know…”

  “Don’t say it. I was just joking.”

  “You’ve seen him in the shared showers, too?”

  He laughed. “Yes, and I know the man isn’t overcompensating for a damn thing.”

  “Probably not something you need to be discussing with me, though.” She laughed at a thought, then added, “Swinger, however…”

  “You know he made a move on Intrepid once? I mean a real move. Tried to invite him into his room while taking off his clothes.”

  “Let me guess, you were there.”

  “Swinger told me.” Scorpio ran a hand through his thinning hair. “For some reason, he thought I’d enjoy the story.”

  “Didn’t you?”

  “Of course. But more so because now we at least know—I mean, I’d always wondered.”

  “Intrepid doesn’t go that way,” Alice said. “It’s clear.”

  “It’s painted on his forehead?” Scorpio shook his head. “One has to wonder, you know. So many women would be up on Intrepid if he gave them a chance, but the man ain’t having it.”

  “You think I’m a carpet muncher because I haven’t hit on any of you manly men yet?” She raised an eyebrow, hitting him when he hesitated. “Shut up.”

  “It’s different with you,” he said, rubbing the sore spot on his arm from her punch. “We all know about Marick. We all know your story.”

  “Yeah, well…” She suddenly felt too exposed, as if she probably shouldn’t have told so many people what she was doing here. It had been an attempt to gain their trust and support in this endeavor, and it had worked. At the time, she had been working any angle she could, desperate to find allies in this fight. Now, she wondered if she had been too rash.

  “We’ll take them down,” Scorpio said, voice suddenly somber.

  “All I want is answers,” she replied, then paused again, this time to check the thigh of her suit and pull out a thin blade. “Ready for that door?”

  His lip twitched and his eyes narrowed as he pulled out a retractable baton, but nodded.

  “We don’t have a choice,” she said, “not if we want to get there before any PD forces.”

  “Did you see me arguing?”

  “Good.”

  She moved for the door—round, similar to what she imagined had been on old submarines. Moving through this part of the underground was never without worry, but they had to be fast here.

  Exiting into a circular room that always reminded her of the inside of a pistol barrel, she and Scorpio weren’t surprised to find two large men and an almost equally large woman at their rear. Annoyed, yes, but not surprised. They hadn’t been here long, Alice guessed by the spotless nature of the chamber.

  “Have you seen movement?” Alice asked.

  No answer, just a smile from the woman. Alice knew of her, though hadn’t had much reason to interact with her on a personal basis. Everyone called her “The Heel” because she was known for squashing people like bugs when her boss demanded it. Alice had gone into her file and learned that her real name was Feruza, and that she had originally been from Central Asia before it had reformed as one of the greater Earth powers. Mother of two. Both deceased. Nothing to lose, always eager for trouble.

  “If you’re not here for a chit-chat,” Alice added, glancing over at Scorpio to ensure he wasn’t getting spooked and that he’d have her back, if it came to it, “I can assume you’re here for money or steel. Which’ll it be?”

  She brandished her blade, but her other hand patted the side pocket of her chest piece—light body armor that resembled her old company uniform, in case there was trouble. It would protect her if necessary, at least somewhat, but the pocket she was patting was where she kept just enough chips to be useful for bribing, when needed. And she was counting on the Heel knowing this.

  “We’ll see what you have to offer, then decide,” the Heel replied.

  “First, information,” Alice countered.

  A raised eyebrow from the Heel. She wasn’t used to being challenged, apparently. The look was almost humorous, causing her skin to scrunch up like a raisin around three scars that went across her forehead and down h
er left brow. Her hair fell over her ears, chopped short but long enough to stick out from under her street-gang style red, layered-metal helmet.

  One of the thugs looked at the Heel as if expecting an order to take down Alice, but the woman licked her teeth, lips peeled back, and then grunted.

  “We’re not enemies here, Alice. In fact, my employer thinks we can all be great friends.”

  Her employer and the likes of him were the last people Alice would ever allow herself to consider friends. While she suspected New Origins and other privatized military groups of foul play, the Heel worked for a criminal group known for brutality, murder, and worse. If Alice’s Looking Glass was the punch in the face of freedom fighter organizations, the Heel’s group was a punch in the face with spiked brass knuckles with enhanced electric shock mods, followed by a blade across the throat.

  Os Dragoes, as the organization was known, meant the dragons in Portuguese. Even though their top ranks were mostly made up of criminal escapees from the big breakout of Space Station New Hope, their leader was a man from Old Portugal, before it had been conquered and declared a part of the Alboranian Holdings. He and his kind had fought back, and been imprisoned for it.

  Then the breakout came, and nobody liked to discuss that. One of the biggest mistakes of the twenty-second century.

  Needless to say, the PD forces would love to get their hands on this guy, and anyone else in the Os Dragoes. As far as Alice was concerned, that meant instant friendship with some groups. But not this group, not after what she’d heard they had done.

  Not with the lives of so many innocents on their hands.

  She was very tempted to tell the Heel to go jump out of an airlock right then and there, but instead she smiled, pulled out a few more chips than she’d originally planned, and said, “Talk.”

  The Heel scowled, rebuffed, then held out her hand. When Alice had filled it with metal chips, the woman licked her teeth once more, debated the two, and nodded.

  “Don’t worry about your boy Swinger,” the Heel said, pocketing the chips. “There was a team headed his way, but… we had reasons to be keeping our eyes on him. Someone who… visits his bed from time to time. Suffice it to say, the PD forces were too close for comfort, so we took them down.”