by Jake Bible
“What do we do with him, Sarge?” she asked.
Manheim came into view, his mouth an angry sneer.
“You think Chann is still in there?” Manheim asked.
“I don’t know,” Kay said. There was pain in her voice, but she coughed a couple times and continued. “Doesn’t matter. We don’t know how to get him out even if he is still in there. Should I put this piece of shit down?”
“No!” Chann yelled, but the words never left his lips, only bounced around inside his head.
“It appears we will now die,” the whisper said.
“No, wait, we don’t have to,” Chann said. “Make them a deal.”
“A deal? What deal can I make them?” the whisper asked.
“Tell them you can get them out of this room and back up top,” Chann said.
“You are only stalling for time so you may figure out a way to overpower me and take back your body,” the whisper said. “I should inform you that you cannot overpower me. This body is mine until I give it up.”
“Yeah, well, it won’t be yours for long unless you make them a deal,” Chann said.
“They are your friends. They will not kill you in cold blood,” the whisper said.
“They don’t think they’re killing me, they think they are killing you,” Chann said. “And they are Marines. They do what they have to do.”
The conversation happened in the space of a millisecond.
“I can get you out of here,” Chann’s voice said. “Do not kill me. Your Chann is still inside me.”
Kay’s eyes widened, but her rifle didn’t budge from its target. “Sarge? What’s the call?”
“You can get the lift to work?” Manheim asked.
“I can,” Chann’s voice answered.
“What else can you do?” Manheim asked.
“I do not understand,” Chann’s voice replied.
“Can you tune in to all the AI chatter?” Manheim asked. “Can you give us a heads up when they come at us?”
The whisper hesitated.
“I can do that,” Chann’s voice replied. “If you let me live when this is done.”
“I want Chann back,” Kay snarled.
“Kay,” Manheim warned.
“Sorry, Sarge,” Kay apologized.
“If we can get you out of there, and Chann doesn’t end up a vegetable, then we’ll let you live,” Manheim said. “If we can’t get you out of there, then I’ll put down Chann’s body myself. That’s the only deal you get.”
“You are in no place to bargain using threats,” Chann’s voice said. “I could let you die down here, trapped forever.”
Manheim didn’t respond, just kept his eyes focused on Chann’s.
“Very well,” Chann’s voice said. “The longer I am in this physical body, the longer I want to survive. I will help you get out of here.”
“Good,” Manheim said. “Now get your naked ass up and let’s take a walk back to the lift.”
***
“We ready to get this piece of crap off this planet?” Nordanski asked as he plopped down in the co-pilot’s seat and strapped in.
“Goofa,” Shick replied from the pilot’s seat as the warped Marine began activating systems. There was a high, shrill bleep and Shick turned to Nordanski. “Kippa?”
“Kippa? What’s that mean?” Nordanski asked.
Shick sighed and pointed at the flashing red warning on the console.
“Oh, shit, it doesn’t recognize your biometrics,” Nordanski said. “No prob. I can fix that. AI? Unlock ship controls. Authorize Shick here for pilot protocols.”
There was no reply.
“AI? Acknowledge?” Nordanski ordered. He slammed a fist against the console in front of him. “Hey!”
Still no answer.
“Uh, we don’t have an AI,” Nordanski said. “Crap.”
“Toobu fla,” Shick said.
He shook his head, stood up, then crouched down low under the console’s overhang. He slammed a fist into a panel and bent it enough to get his fingers inside and shove it open. Rows of flashing tubes blinked back at him.
“Uh, you know what you’re doing down there?” Nordanski asked.
“Sippa ti,” Shick said. He waved a hand at Nordanski in the universal gesture of leave me alone, I’m busy.
“Just asking,” Nordanski said.
The drop ship shook violently and Nordanski brought up external vids. The storm was ten times the strength it had been when they first started salvaging parts, and it was getting worse. He could see the last of the warped Marines run grav sleds up the rear-hatch ramp. Then the ramp raised just as a sand twister came at the ship.
“Oh, shit!” Nordanski cried as the drop ship rocked up onto its nose.
Shick was yelling the same word over and over as his body was shoved up against the open panel he was working on. Nordanski was glad he was strapped into his seat. Instead of looking forward, he was suddenly looking down. Then everything righted itself in one big crash and a dozen different warning klaxons blared.
“Shit!” Nordanski said as he began checking systems. “We’re going to lose stabilizers if we don’t get out of here fast. Rear thrusters are at half power. They must be clogged with sand.”
“Haska goo fappa nip,” Shick said as he got himself out from under the console and sat back down in the pilot’s seat. He smacked his fist against the console and it lit up. “Stappa!”
“Good job, man,” Nordanski said. He activated the ship-wide comm. “Attention passengers, we are about to lift off. Grab your asses and get ready to kiss them goodbye because this is gonna be one helluva ride!”
Shick shook his head and grabbed the flight stick, yanking up hard as he engaged the thrusters.
“Damn! How long has it been since you flew last?” Nordanski asked, his body shoved back into his seat despite the inertial compensators. “Take it easy!”
“Les boo,” Shick said and pointed at the scanners.
“Oh, yeah, maybe go faster then,” Nordanski said as he stared at the readings.
A sand twister almost as big as the Romper was headed right for them.
Shick gripped the flight stick hard enough that his knuckles cracked like snapping bones. The warped Marine’s eyes were locked onto the view screen, which was basically a swirling mess of sand. He stared intently at the image, his body shaking with tension.
Nordanski’s attention flicked from the scanner readings to the view screen to Shick and back to the scanner readings as the drop ship struggled to get free of the storm.
“Holy crap,” Nordanski muttered as he watched the twister bear down on them. “We aren’t gonna make it.”
“HOOPA TON!” Shick shouted.
Nordanski got the message. He shut up.
More klaxons blared and Nordanski hunted for a way to shut them off. Shick reached past him and slammed his fist down hard enough to crack the console. The klaxons stopped.
“Thanks,” Nordanski said.
The drop ship banked hard to the left then banked back to the right as Shick avoided a dense, red cloud mass. Lightning exploded from the cloud, snaking out at the drop ship, but they got clear before it could make contact.
“Zill wah fo fa,” Shick laughed.
“Not sure how that’s funny, but whatever tickles your fancy, man,” Nordanski said.
Then the entire console went dark. It blinked off like someone had thrown a switch.
“Foop,” Shick said in a quiet voice.
“Ya think?” Nordanski replied in a not-so-quiet voice.
Shick stood up and hurried to a panel at the back of the bridge.
“Where are you going?” Nordanski shouted. “Get back here and fly this ship!”
Nordanski could feel them falling, feel the drop ship plummeting out of the sky. His body was slowly lifting up out of his seat like it would in zero gravity.
“Tag loq wah!” Shick yelled as he pulled several wires from the panel and stripped them bare with his teeth.
He twisted the bare wires together, shoved them back into the panel, spat twice, then closed it up and struggled his way back to the pilot’s seat. He sat down and put a hand on Nordanski’s shoulder.
“Stul kil hag,” he said and pressed his palm to the console.
The power came back on and Nordanski began to scream as he was shoved so hard into his seat he thought his ass would merge with the plastic coating forever. The drop ship angled sharply and rose so fast that the view screen struggled to keep up with the external images.
Then they were free.
Free of the storm, free of the atmosphere, free of the planet.
Shick activated the comm.
“Toolu fog het?” he called.
“Fog het sa,” a voice replied.
“Jippa tell,” another said.
“Paba cav?” a third said.
“Nolo giff wo,” Shick said.
The third voice laughed hysterically. Shick turned and gave Nordanski a wink.
“So, we’re good?” Nordanski asked.
“Chap,” Shick replied.
“Nice to hear,” Nordanski said. He took a deep breath and leaned forward as he studied the navigation console. “Head eighty degrees starboard. The Romper is that way. We can’t miss it.”
Shick nodded and adjusted course.
They flew for a few minutes before the Romper was in view.
“Oh, damn…” Nordanski muttered at the sight of the ship. “That’s not good.”
The Romper was a quarter of its original size. Rosch had chopped off entire decks and sectors. She’d sliced and diced the old girl until it wasn’t even a hint of what it used to be.
“Hoopa jil,” Shick said, his voice thick with worry. “Tapa hock?”
“I have no idea,” Nordanski said. “Careful. That’s a lot of debris.”
And it was. Hunks of metal, entire sections of the old ship, floated in the space surrounding what was left of the Romper. Some had started to head towards the planet and were already glowing as they began their descent through the outer atmosphere, but most of the junk stayed in place, obstacles that could wipe out the drop ship with ease if a collision were to happen.
“The hangar is gone,” Nordanski said. “Where the hell does Rosch want us to land?”
“Goffa qop,” Shick said and activated the comm. “Teffurg? Shipa wippa?”
“Oh, yes, I see you,” Teffurg replied over the comm. “I assume you are wondering how you will dock with us.”
“Yeah,” Nordanski said.
“Alright, well, this isn’t going to be easy,” Teffurg said. “I tried to get Rosch to be more judicious in how she dismantled the damaged pieces, but, well, you know Rosch.”
“Yeah, I know Rosch,” Nordanski said.
“Mel nic ves?” Shick asked.
“Precisely,” Teffurg replied. “I am sending you the coordinates now. If you can weave the ship through the debris, then I can open the outer cargo bay doors right when you get here. We will need to be quick since atmospheric controls are not one hundred percent up to capacity. The less atmosphere we lose, the better.”
“Sta zet,” Shick said.
The navigation console lit up as the coordinates were received.
“Can you do this?” Nordanski asked Shick.
“Laffa,” Shick replied.
“That better be a yes,” Nordanski said.
His hands gripped the armrests of his seat as Shick began to move through the debris field that surrounded the Romper. He had to hold his tongue when massive chunk after massive chunk looked like it was going to collide head on with the drop ship until Shick swerved away at the last second. There was a loud clang from the aft of the drop ship and Nordanski flinched, but Shick looked like nothing had happened.
Then they were through the worst of it, and the drop ship eased itself over to a rapidly opening bay door.
With expert efficiency, Shick turned the drop ship around and backed into the bay. There was another loud clang then Shick was up and out of his seat before Nordanski was sure the ship had stopped moving.
“Bel fa!” Shick shouted and motioned for Nordanski to follow.
“Okay, okay, I’m coming,” Nordanski replied. “No need to yell.”
***
Enviro suit on, Teffurg greeted the warped Marines as the rear hatch descended. He gasped when he saw the men didn’t have any suits on, not even protective helmets.
“Oh, my!” he said as he hurried forward with an extra grav sled.
But there was no need. The warped Marines were ready and whatever parts weren’t loaded onto the drop ship’s grav sled, they began carrying out by hand.
“Teff!” Nordanski exclaimed as he squeezed past a couple of warped Marines loaded down with ship parts that were twice their size. “Marines! These guys were Marines!”
“Kel uk,” one of the warped Marines snapped as he walked past Nordanski.
“They still consider themselves Marines,” Teffurg translated. “I would advise you respect that.” He stared at the huge men that never stopped moving. “I do not know how they are living without atmosphere?” He gestured at one of the warped Marines. “Gohj laka bin cof?”
“Moshu walla fen,” the warped Marine replied without stopping his work.
“Oh, interesting,” Teffurg said.
“Care to fill me in?” Nordanski asked.
“They have membranes over their eyes and covering their sinuses,” Teffurg said. “Their skin is subcutaneously pressurized. Like a layer of an enviro suit under the first three layers. They feel the cold, but it doesn’t seem to bother them.”
“Yeah, I watched a couple take direct plasma blasts and keep going like they were nothing,” Nordanski said. He patted his helmet. “I’ll stick with the enviro suit.”
“As will I,” Teffurg said. “The others?”
“No word,” Nordanski said. “I have no idea what is going on back at the outpost. But I expect we’ll find out once we get these parts offloaded and head back down to the planet.”
Teffurg cleared his throat and shuffled his feet.
“What?” Nordanski asked.
“How can we be sure they are still alive?” Teffurg asked. “They may have already been killed.”
“Yeah, they may have,” Nordanski snapped. “Then again, maybe they haven’t. We don’t leave Marines behind.”
“I am not arguing that,” Teffurg said.
“Then what are you arguing?” Nordanski demanded.
“He’s arguing whether or not we should cut our losses and get the hell out of this system before we really get deep in the shit,” Rosch said as she joined them in the bay. Her enviro suit was coated in metal shavings and covered in spark burns. “We don’t want to be where we are for much longer. Getting a head start would be a very good idea.”
“We aren’t leaving them down there,” Nordanski. “Not until we know for sure whether or not they are dead!”
“Quit your bitching, I don’t like it any more than you do, Nord,” Rosch snarled. “But you ain’t seen what I’ve seen.”
“Oh? And what is that?” Nordanski asked.
“This,” Rosch said and swiped her wrist, bringing up a holo of the system they were in. “See that?”
She zoomed in on the image. The backdoor wormhole portal could just be made out.
“It’s active,” Rosch explained when Nordanski didn’t say anything. “That means someone is coming through. Care to take a guess at who?”
“I don’t have time for games, Rosch,” Nordanski said.
“Yeah, none of us have time for games,” Rosch said. “And it ain’t games coming for us. It’s Skrang.”
The warped Marines stopped where they stood and turned to Rosch.
“I got your attention now?” Rosch asked, swiping the holo away. “Good, because we have maybe two hours before we’ve got ourselves a Skrang problem.”
5
The lift doors opened and Manheim didn’t hesitate; he
let loose with his plasma rifle, cutting the two men in half that were lying in wait. One of them got off a shot and tagged Manheim in the shoulder, but the sentry armor he wore kept him from getting wounded. It didn’t keep him from getting tossed on his ass. Hard.
“Son of a bitch,” Manheim growled as he picked himself up.
Standing behind Chann’s body, Kay kept her rifle’s barrel jammed up against Chann’s head. She shoved the man from behind and barked, “Walk.”
“You will not shoot me,” Chann’s body said.
“I might,” Kay replied.
“I can smell the fear on you, sense the reticence,” Chann’s body said. “You don’t want this man’s body to die even if his mind is already lost.”
“Saying shit like that is not how you are gonna survive,” Manheim said. “The deal is you keep Chann’s mind from dying and we let your mind live. Anything else means you go down with Chann.”
The AI controlling Chann’s body ignored Manheim and focused on Kay as they walked out into the corridor.
“He is in here,” Chann’s body said. “He worries about you. He wants you to let me go and save yourself. He knows this is a losing battle. What will you do? How will you get out? Taman is up here and he will stop you both. Kill you where you stand. Your usefulness is at an—”
“Shut the fuck up,” Kay snarled.
“Listen to the lady,” Manheim said as he followed them out. He swung his rifle left then right, but the corridor was empty. “Okay, which way?”
“What does it matter?” Chann’s body asked. “Your drop ship is gone.”
“What?” Manheim asked. “How do you know that?”
Chann’s body tapped his temple. “I hear it. The drop ship is gone. You have no way off this planet.”
“That’s why we’re going to your comm room,” Kay said. “Take us there, get us a secure channel, and we can call up to our ship. They’ll send down another drop ship to fetch us.”
“Not in this storm,” Chann’s body said.
“Are you trying to get yourself killed?” Manheim asked.
“Of course not,” Chann’s body replied. “I am simply stating the obvious. I do not want to be blamed for circumstances outside my control.”
