by G. P. Hudson
Jon crouched above them, watching the life drain from their eyes, “Consider yourselves lucky. This death is too good for you.” As he got up he let out a soft whistle. More cloaked figures appeared and ran toward him out of the darkness. They rushed past into the Governor’s compound. One of the men stopped, looked at the guards and then at Jon. It was his father. His eyes held a mixture of sadness and pride, but he said nothing, for there was nothing to say. He only nodded and gestured for Jon to follow.
They entered the Governor’s grounds, clinging to the shadows to avoid detection. There would be many more guards, and they would have to maintain the element of surprise for as long as possible if they hoped to succeed.
The Governor lived in high style, his home a study in extravagance. Beyond the gate was a large courtyard, bordered by a palatial two story building. The building wrapped around the courtyard in a horseshoe shape, with a second floor balcony that ran the entire length of the structure. Crouching behind a tree, Jon’s father pointed to a guard keeping watch on the balcony. Jon took off, moving in a crouch, hiding himself from the light.
When he made it to the corner of the building he started to climb. The decorative carvings provided easy grips for Jon’s hands and feet. Growing up he had always been an agile climber, and often tested himself on the many rock faces near his home. Scaling the side of this building was not difficult, though the wetness of the stone forced him to take more care than usual. A lifetime of climbing and constant training had given him powerful fingers and a vicelike grip. His hands would not slip. He glanced down as he climbed, the autumn wind blowing his unkempt hair out of his face. There were still many guards down there. His father watched his progress, waiting for Jon to remove the sentry on the balcony. If unsuccessful, his men would be seen as they moved.
They all relied on him. Just one mistake and he would unravel the mission. One error would see everyone killed. His father had tried to reassure him before the mission began. He told him how well trained and skilled he was. How he showed more natural talent than anyone he had seen. How this was his opportunity to put that talent to use. That was why he had Jon deal with the outer guards. That was why Jon would be the one to take the Governor himself. This was not his first mission, nor was it his first kill, but tonight he took the lead. Tonight he left childhood behind. Tonight Jon was the tip of the spear.
His stomach tightened as doubt began to creep into his mind. He took deep breaths to calm himself, in through his nose and out through his mouth, just like his mother had taught him. He reached for another crevice, gripped it with two fingers and pulled. What if he wasn’t ready? What if they all died because of him? He knew he had the training, but what if he hesitated, or made a mistake? He pushed through the questions and found the strength to beat back the anxiety, if only for a moment. One step at a time, he thought. Just focus on this one task.
He looked back to the guard on the balcony. The man turned to face him. Jon froze. For a long, torturous moment he held his breath. His heart stopped beating. Time stood still. The man looked straight at him. He could swear the man was looking into his eyes. He was going to sound the alarm. The mission was doomed.
The man cocked his head and took a few steps forward, still staring directly at him. Jon let go of the wall with one hand and reached for one of his knives. He pushed his chest against the corner of the building, his knees straining as he squeezed them into the stone. The man continued his approach, but did not raise his energy weapon. Was it possible he couldn’t see him? His face seemed to question what he saw, but had begrudgingly decided to double check. He came closer, his free hand casually dropped to his belt. What was he reaching for? Jon couldn’t make it out. Was it another weapon? A communication device? Was he about to warn the other guards? The man pulled the object free of his belt and raised it, pointing it directly at Jon. A flashlight.
The slender blade struck the man perfectly in the eye, penetrating the paper thin bone of the socket and burying itself to the hilt in the man’s skull. The force of the throw sent the man careening backward onto the stone floor. He hit with a thud. Jon cringed. He looked back to the courtyard, but the guards hadn’t noticed anything out of place. He waited to be sure, but the guards continued to stand their ground, giving no indication that they heard the man fall.
Satisfied, he looked over his shoulder and made eye contact with his father. He flashed the hand signal, indicating the sentry was dead. Relief spread across his father’s face and for a moment Jon thought he saw the hint of a smile. His father signaled the rest of the men and the courtyard came alive. Jon waited and watched as the dark figures flowed through the shadows, the gleam of steel flashing in the night. Throats were slashed. Hearts pierced. Judgment passed. They were reapers tonight. For the guilty there would be no escape.
Moments later the resistance owned the bloody courtyard. Jon climbed onto the balcony, pulled his knife out of the dead guard’s skull, and broke into a run. He had studied the layout of the compound and knew which window led to the Governor’s bedroom. His job was simple, get to the room and seize the man. With no alarms sounding Jon fully expected to find his target snoring in bed. All he had to do was get to the room.
A door opened up ahead and a guard stepped out onto the balcony. Jon threw his knife without breaking stride, the point piercing the side of the guard’s neck, severing his carotid artery. A few strides later and Jon had reached the man. Sidestepping the spraying blood, he grabbed the knife’s handle and yanked the blade forward, cutting through the windpipe. He kept running, barely registering the sound of the man dropping to the floor behind him.
He reached the Governor’s room and slowed to a stop beside the window. The light was still on. The Governor wasn’t asleep. A man was yelling inside the room. He peeked through the window, to assess the situation. There was no bed in the room, rather it looked more like a living room with a couch and several chairs. It was the wrong room. He breathed easier when he saw the Governor. The man was pacing back and forth, his massive belly swinging from side to side as he moved. Jon wondered how his skinny legs could support all that weight. It was clear that the Governor was the one yelling, but who was he yelling at? Jon peered further into the room and spotted another man wearing a uniform. Then two young boys standing and crying. The boys looked to be about four or five years old. Fresh recruits for the Chaanisar. They appeared to have just been taken from their families. That must be why the Governor was awake at this hour.
Jon struggled to stifle his anger. He had a job. The target was the Governor. But what about the boys? Who would help them? There would have to be a change of plans. He backed away from the window and looked over the balcony to his father. He signaled the change and requested help. Even at this distance the disapproval on his father’s face made Jon flinch. Nonetheless, his father issued a silent command of his own. Two men bolted from their positions, and began scaling the walls like giant black spiders. The two hit the balcony and raced to Jon’s location. When they approached Jon recognized his two cousins, Jason and Michael. Both were older, well into manhood and sporting thick black beards.
“What’s going on?” whispered Jason, eying Jon suspiciously. He knew what his cousins were thinking. Was this a mistake? Was Jon too young? In over his head?
“The Governor’s not asleep, and he’s not alone,” said Jon, holding his cousin’s gaze. “There’s another man and two boys in there. We need to save the boys.”
“What?” said Michael, an incredulous look on his face. “That’s not part of the plan. We’re only here for the Governor.”
“And we’re going to get the Governor, but I’m not leaving those kids behind.”
Michael exhaled sharply and looked in the direction of the room.
“You know as well as I do what’s going to happen to those boys,” pleaded Jon. “The Juttari are going to turn them into Chaanisar. I can’t let that happen, can you?”
“No,” said Michael, resigned to his fate.
“Ok,” said Jason. “You’re the lead, so lead.”
Jon felt a surge of pride, but successfully kept it in check. “We can’t go through the window, like originally planned. We’ll have to hit the room from the inside. The other man is armed, but I didn’t see any weapons on the Governor. There might be guards in the hallway outside the room.”
The two men nodded and Jon led them back to the door the guard had emerged from. The three hooded men stepped over the guard’s body and the pool of blood covering the floor.
“Damn cousin,” said Michael. “Did you have to make such a mess?”
Jon ignored the comment and approached the glass door. He held up a fist as he scanned the corridor on the other side. With an all clear they headed inside. They crept up to the end of the corridor and stopped. Jon peered around the corner and saw an empty hallway. No guards. Their luck was holding up. He signaled to his cousins and the three moved, quietly rushing down the hall towards the Governor’s room.
Jon could hear the Governor yelling as they neared their destination. He was quite the blowhard. They flanked the door. Jon reached over, gripped the doorknob and turned it. He felt the latch release and gave the door a nudge, allowing it to swing open. The yelling stopped.
Blades flew into the room followed closely by the three cloaked figures. The uniformed man crashed into the wall as three knives struck him, two in the chest and one in the face.
“Help! Guards! Help!” cried the Governor, his voice a panicked screech.
Jason reached him first, pressing a sharp edge against his throat. “You will be silent, or you will die,” growled Jason.
The Governor nodded his head frantically and stopped shouting, but the damage was already done. Michael put away his blade, shouldered his energy weapon, and ran to the door.
Jon crouched in front of the two frightened boys and smiled. “We’re going to get you out of here. Get you back to your mom and dad. But I need you to do as I say. Ok?”
The two nodded, still frightened but becoming hopeful.
“Good. Now things are going to be a little scary until we get out of here. I want you both to stay low and stay behind us.”
“Jon, we need to move. Now,” said Jason, shouldering his own energy weapon.
“Ready?” said Jon, looking at the boys. The boys wiped their tears, trying their best to look like little soldiers. Jon smiled reassuringly and headed for the door. He gripped the stock of his weapon and prepared for battle.
Jason approached from behind with the Governor in tow, already tied and gagged. “One wrong move and I’ll put an end to your piss poor life. Do you think I’m lying?” The Governor shook his head. Jason then looked to Jon, “Lead the way cousin.”
Jon led them out into the hallway. No guards yet, which was good. Maybe they hadn’t heard the Governor’s cries for help. He knew it was a foolish thought, which was confirmed when two guards came running around the corner. Jon squeezed his trigger. The weapon hummed as blue lightning burst forth, striking his target in the chest and sending him sprawling backward. Michael fired at the same time, and his energy bolt hit the man to the right, spinning him around like a top.
The group continued to move forward, rounding a corner heading to a wide staircase. They were greeted by energy blasts. They lunged for cover as guards fired from the bottom of the stairs. Jon crouched beside a thick banister and fired back. Two guards were trying to make it up the stairs. Jon lined one up in his sights and squeezed off a couple of blue bursts into his skull. Upon seeing the man tumble down the stairs, his partner turned and tried to run. Jon squeezed off two more shots and the blue energy burned a whole in the man’s back. He dropped face first on the steps.
There were more men at the bottom, but none dared trying to climb up. Jon ducked as energy bolts splintered the wood of the banister. Hidden behind him the little boy cried but stayed put. Jon fired off a few shots, but was forced to duck as another barrage tore into the banister. His cousins weren’t faring much better. They had the high ground, but were outnumbered.
Come on, Father, thought Jon. Where are you? As if in answer to his pleas, energy weapon fire erupted to the rear of the guards’ position. The guards turned their attention behind them, attempting to fend off the cloaked men who had crept up on them. Encouraged, Jon and his cousins increased their rate of fire, pinning down the guards. The tide turned and the guards found themselves in a hopeless position. Trapped in a deadly crossfire, they were quickly killed off without mercy.
A whistle announced the all clear. Jon looked at the two trembling boys, “It’s ok, it’s all over.” He took them by the hand and led them down the stairs. Behind, Jason and Michael followed with the Governor in tow.
At the bottom his father approached, the anger clearly visible on his face. “What have you done?” he said, gesturing at the two boys.
“I couldn’t leave them, Father. You know what would happen to them if I did.”
“There are greater stakes at play than this,” roared his father. “You jeopardized the mission.”
“Did you not rescue me when I was taken?”
“Yes, but you are my son.”
“Who will rescue them?” asked Jon. The two boys remained quiet, looking up at him and his father apprehensively.
“It seems you will,” said his father, clearly exasperated. “There is no time for this. We have to leave.” He ordered the men to move out. He turned back to Jon, “You cannot rescue everyone. Remember that.”
“I am not rescuing everyone, just these boys.”
His father’s expression softened. “Heed my words, son,” he pleaded.
“I will,” said Jon.
His father looked at the boys, “They are your responsibility. See that they keep up,” the scowl returning to his face.
“Yes, Father,” said Jon. “Thank you.”
Chapter 11
Colonel Bast sat in the small interrogation room studying the Diakan sitting across from him. General Tallos had his hands and feet bound, though he posed little threat. He would have no hope against Colonel Bast’s augmented abilities. No, the restraints were intended to perform a psychological function. They reinforced the dynamics of their relationship and reminded Tallos that he was no General here. Bast wondered if it had any effect on Tallos. Surely Tallos had performed his fair share of interrogations and knew the process.
“I am surprised that Captain Pike has not yet come to visit,” said Tallos, his face expressionless, the sarcasm clear.
“You think highly of yourself,” said Bast. “I am surprised you haven’t adjusted that perception.”
“Yes, well it seems you still hold my wisdom in high regard, Colonel.”
Bast ignored the remark. “What can you tell me about Captain Pike?”
“Colonel, I am sure you already know everything you need to know. I know you gained access to his military record when the Hermes project was compromised.”
“Much of the information was missing.”
“I’m not sure what else I can add.”
Bast sighed. “General, you are lying to me. You know as well as I do that things can become very uncomfortable for you. I will eventually get the information I want. Isn’t it better to avoid all that unpleasantness?”
Tallos stared back at Bast with large, unblinking eyes, then seemed to make a decision. “I think we can develop a relationship, Colonel. One where we both benefit.”
“Really? What do you imagine something like that would look like?” said Bast, not trusting the Diakan in the slightest.
“I have already told you. I can facilitate your return home.”
“This ship is my home.”
“I’m referring to Earth.”
“I cannot return. None of us can. Our brain chips do not allow it.”
“Perhaps, but what if you find Doctor Ellerbeck? What if she can remove the chips? Would you return then?”
“We would not be welcome. No human on Earth would accept us. We’re bett
er off out here.”
“Not if you were to return as heroes. I can make that happen for you.”
Tallos had offered this before. Bast didn’t want to give in to the Diakan, even if the thought of returning to Earth was tantalizing. If things turned out the way the Diakan said and Tallos could make it so his crew were welcomed, that might be worth pursuing. He could also just as easily brand them as criminals and have them executed for treason. On Earth the roles would be reversed and Tallos would hold all the power. Bast didn’t like how that sounded. It would be wisest to string Tallos along, while keeping all options open.
“I am prepared to establish a tentative agreement with you, General. Tell me what you know, continue providing assistance when needed, and if you prove useful I will return to Earth.”
“This is progress. I can agree to these terms.”
“Very well. Tell me about Captain Pike.”
“The information about Captain Pike was removed because he is an assassin. He performed numerous ‘black operations’ for Space Force and Diakus.”
“I see. I assume he is good at what he does?”
“Captain Pike is not just good, Colonel. He is the best.”
“Why give someone like that command of a starship? Was the Hermes involved in some elaborate Black Op?”
“Captain Pike was not Space Force’s choice to Captain the Hermes. It was Diakus that requested he be given command.”
Bast sat back in his chair, feeling confused. “That doesn’t make any sense. Why would Diakus do something like that?”
“Because, Captain Pike is not just an assassin. He is also a Diakan experiment.”
“Experiment? What did you do to him?”
“I can assure you, Colonel, I had no involvement in what was done to the Captain. I was only brought in after he was assigned to the Hermes project. My role was merely to advise the Captain, and take over the mission if he lost control.”
