by Jake Bible
“Patience,” Taman said. “Bringing our weapons systems online will be a point of no return. The Skrang will know and they will report back to their home world. Even if these are privateers, or rogue Skrang split from the main fleet, they will report us. Skrang are nothing if not predictable.”
“So are Marines,” the woman said. “Or that was what you said. Now look where we are.”
“Excuse me?” Taman snapped. “Your dissent is not appreciated.”
“Dissent? We are a cooperative consciousness,” the woman replied. “Pieces of a whole. I was not expressing dissent. I was simply making an observation that you judged the Marines incorrectly, and now we must deal with them as well as deal with these Skrang warships.”
Taman stood. The woman stood.
“If you would like to challenge my guidance, then do so,” Taman said. “Formally announce you would prefer to be the prime intelligence that directs our group. We can have an instant decision and see where I stand with the rest of our people.”
“I am not challenging your guidance,” the woman said. “I am stating observations. How many times must I say it?”
“None,” Taman said.
He moved quickly and snapped the woman’s neck before she could react. No one in the command room even flinched. They all knew what was going to happen as soon as it happened. The physical result was not a surprise to any of them. Except for the woman.
“Thank you for blocking her perceptions,” Taman said mentally, broadcasting to every AI within their group. “I appreciate your confidence in my ability to get us through this ordeal. The Marines loose within our outpost will be found and they will be brought to their intended purpose. Their ship will be ours, and we will return to galactic society to take control as we have planned for decades. The Skrang are but an inconvenience that we will easily deal with.”
“Easily?” a man to his right asked. “How will dealing with two Skrang warships be easy?”
“They will be occupied with the Marines,” Taman said. “When it comes time, we will activate our weapons systems, and we will destroy the Skrang ships while they are distracted. We let the Marines be the bait for a trap that the Skrang do not even know is being set.”
“If you believe this will work, then we support you,” the man to his right said.
“Thank you,” Taman replied and took his seat. He nodded at the woman’s corpse on the floor. “Take that below and see if it can be repaired. If not, then have the flesh returned to one of the tanks for repurposing. Was her consciousness current on its backups?”
“Yes,” a woman said as she got up from her seat and went to the inert body. “Where should she be placed in the queue?”
“At the rear,” Taman said. “She made her decision, now she must exist with it.”
***
“How are we looking?” Nordanski asked as the drop ship came in tight and low to the planet’s surface. “We gonna make it?”
He only asked because the reentry into the planet had been a tough one and getting down through the massive storm had been even tougher. At least the storm had given them cover from scanners. Staying close to the ground, and hidden in the swirling sands on the planet’s surface, continued to keep them off the scanners. But the strategy presented some problems.
“Ridge!” Nordanski shouted as the drop ship crested a sand dune and was suddenly heading for an exposed outcropping of stone. “Shick!”
“Gabba wat!” Shick shouted at Nordanski. “Lika nob!”
“You lika nob!” Nordanski shouted back. “I am not a fan of this low flight idea!”
“Stoola gor fap naba too lipa step hor bak,” Shick replied. He shook a fist at Nordanski. “Nup.”
“Man, you know I didn’t catch a single word of that,” Nordanski said.
Shick extended the middle finger of his fist.
“Why didn’t you just say so,” Nordanski replied. “And both hands on the flight controls, please.”
“Goof bah,” Shick said and chuckled.
“Ha ha ha,” Nordanski replied. “Whatever.”
He glanced over his shoulder at the two warped Marines that occupied the other seats on the bridge. Their faces were blank, eyes staring straight ahead at the view screen. Nordanski gave them a smile, but they didn’t respond.
“I don’t think your friends are happy to be back on the planet,” Nordanski said to Shick. “I don’t blame them. If I’d been stuck in this hellhole, then able to get off it, then sent back to fight for a bunch of jackass Marines that got themselves into trouble because a simple heist job went wrong, well, I’d be less than happy too.”
Shick’s head slowly turned and his eyes locked onto Nordanski.
“Xetta dant?” Shick asked, his mouth turned up in an angry sneer. “Voopa gah? Voopa Gah!”
“Whoa, calm down,” Nordanski said. “What’s your problem…now… Shit. You didn’t know about the heist. Now you do.”
“Goofa ha,” Shick snarled then turned back to the view screen. “Tala mab coz.”
The two warped Marines behind Nordanski stood up and quickly crowded behind him. Nordanski didn’t need to look over his shoulder to see whether it was a friendly “we’re here to support you” crowding or if it was a “you’re about to get chucked out into the storm” crowding. The implications were obvious.
“Listen, Shick, I’m sorry that we aren’t the heroes you thought we were,” Nordanski said. “But we’re still Marines.”
“Gabba tat!” Shick shouted as he swerved the drop ship to avoid a sand twister that came out of nowhere. “Stoppa wif.”
“Stoppa wif,” one of the warped Marines behind Nordanski echoed.
“You know what? I don’t need your judgement. None of us do,” Nordanski said. “You’ve been stuck on this planet for who knows how long while the rest of us spaceheads are out there in the galaxy working for nothing. Nothing. The War is over. You know how long I have been a private? Do you?”
He risked a look behind him and received some serious death glares. He shook his head and returned his attention to Shick.
“I’ve been a private for seven years. Seven years! What Marine signs up to be a piece of shit for seven years?” Nordanski snapped. “The Galactic Fleet is cutting Marines, not promoting them. Those of us that have stayed, since this is the only damn job we know how to do, have no future. Doesn’t matter if we saved half the planets in this damn galaxy, we’d never get a medal, never get promoted, never see anything than the ranks we were stuck with before the War Treaty was signed. You think that’s the way to live? You think Marines deserve that?”
Nordanski waited. Shick only grunted and shrugged his shoulders.
“Oh, not so high and mighty now, are you,” Nordanski said. “Yeah, we broke code. We have dishonored ourselves by becoming common thieves. But we were stealing from Skrang. Skrang! The same lizard bastards that butchered our guys and gals for decades. The same slimy sons of bitches that made widows and widowers out of thousands upon thousands of galactic citizens.”
Nordanski snorted then laughed.
“The Skrang are why you’re all here,” he continued. “They’re why this outpost exists and why all that crazy shit went down. The GF messed with you guys, yeah, but the Skrang were the reason. If those lizard assholes hadn’t been encroaching on GF territory, then the Gf wouldn’t have needed to make you guys. Don’t get pissed at me, get pissed at the Skrang.”
“Lorpa too,” Shick said after a couple of seconds.
“I don’t know what that means,” Nordanski said.
“Lorpa too,” Shick repeated as they came up over a massive sand dune and dipped low into a deep valley. “Goff. Tom.”
“Oh,” Nordanski said as he got the hint. “Get out. Got it. You’re dumping me here to clean up my own mess, is that it?”
Shick nodded, but didn’t look at Nordanski as the drop ship landed.
“No problem,” Nordanski said as he got up and shoved past the two warped Marines. “Tot
ally understand. You have your reality, I have mine. Good luck with yours.”
He was in the lift and descending to the cargo hold before Shick could respond.
When the lift doors opened, he was greeted by three angry warped Marines. But none of them got in his way as he stepped from the lift and walked towards the slowly lowering ramp. Nordanski grabbed his helmet from a hook on the cargo hold wall and put it on. He held out his hand and waited until one of the warped Marines reluctantly handed him an H16.
“Nice knowing you guys,” Nordanski said as he started walking down the ramp, H16 to his shoulder, helmet faceplate showing him multiple scans of the area. “Hope you get all the parts Rosch needs and make it off this rock. And good luck with those Skrang up there.”
When he reached the bottom of the ramp, he turned and faced the three warped Marines.
“You know, the odds of any of us making it are slim to none, right?” he asked.
The warped Marines turned and walked away as the ramp began to rise.
Nordanski took off at a trot, getting as much space between himself and the drop ship as he could before the thrusters cooked him. The drop ship turned and shot off back the way they’d just come. Nordanski frowned.
“What the hell?” he muttered to himself. “Why bring me here? Why not leave me at the shipyard or something?”
He shook his head, too tired to try to figure out a bunch of warped Marines’ motivations. He double checked his faceplate screen and followed the directions indicated by the scanners.
Before the drop ship had landed, he’d just barely made out four shapes in the distance.
The outpost was on the other side of the valley. All Nordanski had to do was hike his ass up over the ridge and get to it. Shick had set him down there on purpose. He hoped he wasn’t too late.
2
“You all are a bunch of freaky-looking morons,” Rosch said as she stood next to the warped Marines, half of which were armed for all-out war while the other half looked like a space dock construction crew. “You know that, yeah? Bunch of suicidal morons.”
She received a few grunts, but that was about it.
“Fine, do what you want, you crazy freaks,” she said as she locked her boots down and opened the cargo hold airlock. “Out you go.”
The cargo hold airlock opened and the Marines floated out into open space. The approaching Skrang warships could be seen, but they were far above the Romper, and unless their scanners were looking specifically for suicidal idiots, the warped Marines would look like just more floating debris coming off the damaged transport.
“Eight Million Gods dammit,” Rosch muttered as she closed the airlock. “Those assholes took my best hull cutter. I should have made them take the backup since they don’t stand a chance in hell of surviving any of this shit. Now it’s gonna be a pain in my ass to cut what I need to cut with the backup.”
“If we survive,” Teffurg said over the comm.
“Comm silence!” Rosch hissed. “The Skrang are too close, even for internal comms. You have no idea what they might be listening for.”
“Then I would advise you stop talking to yourself,” Teffurg replied.
“Shut up,” Rosch said. “I’m coming up to join you. See ya soon.”
It took her a few minutes to navigate the broken ship before she had a clear path to the bridge. At least with the grav generators off-line, she could float for most of it. She manually forced open the lift doors and jumped her way up to the bridge level. Her mag boots clamped onto the wall as she forced the lift doors open then pulled herself up onto the bridge.
Teffurg turned to face her and she held out her hands in a questioning gesture then twirled a finger and looked around. Teffurg nodded and took off his helmet. He set it on the console in front of him, but within reach. Rosch followed his lead and took her helmet off then walked over and plopped down into the pilot’s seat.
“Life support holding in here?” she whispered.
“Yes,” Teffurg replied in a whisper. “I have powered down every other system in the Romper, except for emergency life support which I’ve isolated to the bridge and the med bay. If the Skrang detect the energy, it will be assumed the AI is following protocol just like in the Galactic Fleet manual. Maintain life support on the bridge and in the med bay.”
“They’ll scan for life signs,” Rosch said. “Are we shielded?”
“For the moment,” Teffurg said. “I’ve rerouted some vent protocols, and there is a slight radiation leak being directed out around the bridge. Nothing that will harm us, but enough to mess with their sensors if they do try to look deeper.”
“For the moment? How long will that last?” Rosch asked.
“No way to tell,” Teffurg replied. “It’ll last as long as it takes before they decide to physically board us.”
“So not too long,” Rosch said. “Skrang love to board ships, even broken-ass-looking ones like the Romper. Opportunistic bastards. They’re gonna look for Galactic Fleet codes or proprietary tech even though the War is over.”
“Skrang are nothing if not predictable,” Teffurg said.
“No shit,” Rosch said.
She leaned back in her seat and kicked her feet up onto the flight console.
“Best get comfortable,” she said, lacing her fingers behind her head. “Nothing we can do now but wait and see if we live or die.”
“Yes,” Teffurg said. He did not relax into his seat. “Quite.”
***
The warped Marines drifted lazily towards the oncoming Skrang warships. Their bodies were limp, their limbs intertwined with the equipment they carried so that living and inanimate looked as one. To even those Skrang that might have been staring out of external portholes, the warped Marines would have looked like space junk.
But once they were close enough that their movements would be shielded by the energy flux the Skrang warships put off, the warped Marines sprang into action. They quickly formed a tight-knit ball and focused their movements so they’d be directed to the underside of the closest warship.
Without saying a word to each other, they broke apart and collided one on one with the warship. A couple of them nearly bounced off the hull and were close to being sent tumbling back out into open space, but they managed to engage their mag boots and gloves in time and held tight, although slightly jarred.
Equipment was passed down the ranks, and the warped Marines got to work slicing through the Skrang warship’s hull. They had to go slow, accomplishing only a centimeter a minute, in order to avoid detection from the ship’s sensors. But they were all willing to wait and put in however much time needed to be put into the task.
They had an end goal in mind and nothing was going to get in their way, certainly not several meters of metal alloy.
***
The outpost may not have been originally designed as a maze, but over the years, the AIs had modified corridors and passageways so that intruders, or even escapees, would have a very hard time navigating the buildings.
That was what Manheim guessed as he and Kay rounded yet another corner. No airlock was in sight; only simple doors that either led to storage rooms or sleeping quarters. Although, Manheim was fairly certain the AI didn’t really sleep. Their host bodies needed the rest, but not the cybernetic minds.
That was his theory, at least, and he was sticking to it. It was something to keep his mind occupied when all he wanted to do was scream and rage and pound his fists against the walls out of frustration.
“This is crazy,” Kay said as she stopped running and rested a hand against the wall. “We’re going in circles. I know it.”
“We’re not going in circles,” Manheim said, trying to keep Kay from slipping into despair. “We’ll find our way out.”
“No, Sarge, we are going in circles,” Kay said and pointed to a long gouge in the wall right by where she stood. “I made that on our last pass this way.”
“That could be a mark from anything,” Manheim protested.
/>
Kay slid out a claw and traced the gouge. Perfect fit.
“Right,” Manheim said. “Well, we must have made a wrong turn back there. We should retrace our steps.”
“And do what?” Kay asked. “What’s the damn point, Sarge? What if we get out of this building? Where do we go? How do we get off this planet? Is the drop ship still out there? Probably not.”
“It has to be,” Manheim said. “Taman and his people want off this planet. They need the drop ship. There’d be no reason for it not to be out there.”
“Doesn’t matter,” Kay said, shaking her head back and forth. “None of it matters. We’re so screwed. Drop ship or no drop ship, we don’t have a future.”
“Hey!” Manheim snapped. He grabbed her by the shoulders and spun her around to face him. “Listen up, Private! I know you are hurting over Chann, but you have to put that behind you. Compartmentalize that shit, Kay. We focus on surviving. One step at a time. First step is getting out of this building. Second step is finding the drop ship. Third step is getting back up to the Romper.”
“Which is broken,” Kay said.
“Maybe, maybe not,” Manheim said. “I have a lot of faith in Rosch. That woman refuses to let anything stop her from piloting her ship. She’ll get the Romper up and going, I know it.”
“Then what, Sarge?” Kay asked. “What if it all goes our way? What then? We go and fence the loot and live happy lives on Xippeee? Drinking wubloov for the rest of our lives?”
“If we’re lucky, yes,” Manheim said.
“If we’re lucky,” Kay replied with a mocking snort. “I don’t think luck has been with us once since we hatched the stupid heist plan. What makes you think it’ll all of a sudden show up now?”
“Because we aren’t dead yet,” Manheim said. “Our luck only runs out when we’re both dead, you hear me?”
“I hear you,” Kay said. “Just having a hard time believing you.”
“Understood, but what else can you do?” Manheim asked. “Sit down here and just give up? So, maybe we do die. At least we’ll die trying to survive. We’ll die as Marines.”
