It Ain't Over... (Cole & Srexx Book 1)

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It Ain't Over... (Cole & Srexx Book 1) Page 20

by Robert M Kerns


  “Yeah,” Cole said, “Srexx does good work.”

  Cole accessed his implant and switched over to the call with Srexx, saying, “Srexx, I’m tired of switching between calls. I’m going to merge this call into the group channel.”

  “Very well, Cole.”

  Accessing his implant again, Cole navigated the menus to find the command that would merge his call with Srexx into the group channel. That done, he activated the group channel and said, “Attention, everyone, this is Cole. I’ve merged my call with Srexx into this channel. Srexx, what can you tell us about this deck?”

  “You are on Deck L-Seven, Cole,” Srexx replied. “According to the schematics, this station dates back to before station layouts were standardized, and this deck used to be the security deck. With the power distribution control system reset, most of the station’s internal sensors are now online, and I have located the slaves. They are distributed throughout the brig on this level.”

  “Excellent work, Srexx,” Cole said. “This means we don’t need Endo anymore. Does the ship have a brig?”

  “Yes, Cole,” Srexx answered. “It is on Deck Five.”

  “Okay, people. Let’s organize into teams. I’m going to call the bridge to get people from the ship over here and merge the call into this channel. The extra crew can start moving these munitions back to the ship. Endo will go back to the ship with the first batch of munitions. Srexx, I’d like for you to direct them to the armory and the brig. I’m assuming we have one, even though I don’t know where it is.”

  “The armory is on Deck Four, Cole,” Srexx said, “and yes, I can direct the teams.”

  Cole accessed his implant to call the bridge and merge the call into the group channel.

  “Bridge, Sasha here.”

  “Sasha, this is Cole. First off, be advised that I’ve merged this call into the group channel we’re using. Keep listening if you want. Beyond that, I need extra people. We found an armory on this deck, and we’re going to clean it out…especially since one of the items is a five-megaton fusion bomb.”

  “Mazzi,” Sasha said, “send some people to link up with the boarding party. Now, Cole…what was this about a fusion bomb?”

  “Don’t ask me why these mooks have a fusion bomb,” Cole said. “We found it crated up in a corner of this armory.”

  “We’ll need a safe way of disposing of it, but that’s tomorrow’s problem,” Sasha said. “We’ll be listening if you need us.”

  It took ten minutes for the extra crew to arrive, during which the boarding party established a perimeter around the path between the ersatz armory and the maintenance airlock which led back to the ship.

  “Srexx, while the munitions are transferred, can you send a copy of the schematic for this deck to my implant?” Cole asked as he watched the crew work and served as their heavy fire support.

  Less than a second later, a notification appeared in Cole’s field of view notifying him that Srexx was attempting to send him data. Cole accepted the transfer, and an overhead view of the deck soon appeared in his field of view. His implant centered the schematic on a red dot, which Cole assumed was him. Cole zoomed out on the schematic until he could see the entire deck, and the red dot was now just a pin-prick of red, little larger than a pixel. Yeah…thirty-seven people were not going to secure this deck.

  Zooming back in on the schematic, Cole focused on the area between the brig and the maintenance airlock. There were no access points within fifty meters of either the brig or the airlock, and while the path from the brig to the maintenance airlock wasn’t a straight shot, it certainly wasn’t a curly pretzel, either.

  * Srexx, how much protection does the armor the crew’s wearing provide? * Cole asked via text message, sent straight to Srexx.

  * Unknown, Cole. Without shooting the armor with one of the retrieved laser rifles, I am unable to provide an accurate answer. Given the materials used in the fabrication, however, each suit should survive at least several direct hits by a laser rifle at your people’s level of technology. *

  Cole sighed. * Can you give me a better approximation than ‘several?’ *

  * More than three shots and less than twenty. *

  * Right…thanks, Srexx. *

  * You are welcome, Cole. *

  Cole returned to the deck schematic, highlighting the maintenance airlock in bright green and the brig’s sole entry point in bright red. He traced the shortest-distance path from the brig’s entrance to the maintenance airlock in bright yellow. Then, he contacted Sasha and asked her to arrange for a group to be waiting inside the ship’s personnel airlock to manage the incoming slaves…once they were actually incoming. Sasha promised she’d see to it. Still, with all of that, the boarding party had only emptied about half the armory. Even with six pallet sleds, it was slow work.

  After what seemed like forever and a day to Cole, but was thirty-five minutes at most, the armory was emptied and transferred to the ship. The unarmored crew who had used the pallet sleds had off-loaded their cargo in corridors on Deck Two and now would begin the slow process of moving it from Deck Two to Deck Five.

  When Cole had all thirty-seven members of his boarding party around him, he transmitted the modified deck schematic to them.

  “All right, people,” Cole said, using the group channel, “we are ready to begin the task we came to accomplish. I want a seven-crew fireteam to secure the manual hatch and maintenance airlock. The rest will come with me. When we reach and secure the brig, another seven-crew fireteam will remain at the brig until all slaves have been moved to the ship. Everyone else will serve as a transfer team to take the slaves from the brig to the ship. Any questions?”

  No one spoke.

  “Okay, then. Let’s do this.”

  The maintenance-airlock fireteam broke off and went back the way they’d come, as Cole led the remaining thirty toward the brig. As he whine-thumped his way through the corridors, Cole considered that maybe he should ask Srexx for a suit of armor like what everyone else wore. After all, it would certainly be quieter.

  “Cole,” Srexx said over the group channel, “there is a group of fifteen individuals moving your way. They are fifteen degrees off your current facing and are armed. They do not appear to be aware of your presence.”

  “Is it possible to move around behind them?” Cole asked.

  “Yes. There are several cross-corridors you could use to flank them.”

  “Okay, I want a team of fifteen to break off and follow Srexx’s directions to flank these guys. I’m going to give them one chance to surrender, but we don’t have time to clear the whole station if they get an alert off. Go.”

  Cole watched half his force fast-walk down the corridor, check the next intersection, and dash across it. Two intersections down, they turned left and moved out of sight. No more than a minute later, Cole saw the group from Iota Ceti turn the corner off to his left and stop cold. Cole counted ten men and five women, and none of them had their weapons ready.

  Activating his armor’s external speakers, Cole said, “We have you surrounded. Surrender your weapons, place your hands on your heads, and you’ll live through this.”

  One man’s hand twitched toward his laser rifle, but the guy next to him slapped him silly, saying, “Hey, dumbass…he’s in heavy armor with a rotary cannon! We can’t kill him before he shreds all of us. That thing’s not exactly a precision weapon.”

  A couple at the back of the group—one man and one woman—pivoted and moved like they were going to run back the way they came, then froze and lifted their hands. The other members of the boarding party came into view, their laser rifles at the ready.

  Cole deactivated his external speakers and said over the group channel, “Okay, disarm them. Airlock fireteam, start making your way to us; we’re sending you some prisoners. Flank team, once the prisoners are disarmed, escort them to the Airlock team; hand off the prisoners’ weapons to them, and double-time it back to us. Bridge, we need people to meet the Airlock team and tr
ansfer the prisoners to the brig.”

  Waiting only long enough to ensure the prisoners were disarmed and moving toward the airlock with their hands on their heads, Cole turned and led the remaining fifteen members of the boarding party to the brig. He moved slowly, more to minimize the sound of his movement than anything else. Heavy armor was a lot things; rated for stealth was not one of them.

  Cole and his portion of the boarding party were just arriving at the access hatch to the brig when the flank team jogged up behind them. Cole stood right in front of the hatch, and the boarding party stacked up on either side of it. Looking at the crewperson closest the hatch controls, Cole’s HUD informed him that the person was Fletcher Giles.

  Over the group channel, Cole said, “Okay, Giles…open the hatch.”

  Giles keyed the commands, and the hatch opened. Stepping through the hatchway as soon as he could fit, Cole surveyed the compartment. The space appeared to be the processing room for new arrivals to the brig. Various tables and desks occupied the space, and most were anchored to the deck. A stack of manacles occupied one table to the right of the hatch. Eight people—six men and two women—lounged in chairs around a table to the left of the hatch. They wore clothing coated in dirt and grime, in varying stages of disrepair, and most looked like they hadn’t showered or bathed in some time. Their weapons lay stacked on a table two meters from them. They all looked toward the hatch as it opened. Their eyes widened as Cole whine-thumped into the compartment.

  Cole keyed his external speakers.

  “I’ve come for the slaves. Lay down your weapons, offer no resistance, and you will be spared.”

  One man, who looked to be the youngest of the group and closest to the weapons table, reached for one of the laser rifles. Just as his fingers were about to grasp it, a nearby woman kicked him square between his legs, following up with a left cross to his temple, and the young man collapsed to the deck unconscious. Two of her fellows gave her an odd look.

  “What?” She said. “You think I’m going to let someone get me killed? That there’s heavy armor and a rotary cannon. What chance you think we stand against that?” At that point, she dropped to her knees and laced her fingers behind her back. “I surrender.”

  Faced with her example, the others in the compartment dropped to their knees and laced their fingers behind their backs. Cole nodded inside his armor, even though no one could see it. He deactivated the external speakers and activated the comms-link for the boarding party.

  “Grab their weapons. Move the prisoners to a bulkhead, and secure their hands behind them with manacles from that table. Leave two people with me as a watch, and they’re authorized for lethal fire if the prisoners resist. The rest of you, fan out. Let’s get the slaves out of here.”

  Within moments, seven criminals were facing a bulkhead, their hands secured behind them. The unconscious young man lay in a corner, his hands secured as well. By lucky happenstance, the woman who’d incapacitated the young man was right beside Cole.

  Cole activated his external speakers again. “Are there any more of you in this section?”

  “No,” the woman said, turning to face Cole. “Just the eight of us watching the slaves.”

  She looked like she hadn’t washed either herself or her clothes in ages, but what struck Cole was her vibrant, blue eyes.

  “How about on this deck?”

  “I don’t know for sure. It’s been an hour or so since we heard from anyone. There was supposed to be a group on the way to start moving the slaves up for the auction, but they haven’t shown up yet.”

  “That group…would it have had about fifteen people?”

  The woman shrugged as best she could. “Probably. The slaves are under light sedation to make ‘em pliable, so fifteen could move thirty or maybe even fifty slaves in one go.”

  “Okay. How many slaves are you holding in here?” Cole asked.

  She shrugged as best she could. “I’m not sure anyone’s ever counted. They make us pack ‘em in the cells like cattle.” After Cole was silent for a time, she asked, “Sir? What’s going to happen to us?”

  “Why?” Cole asked.

  “Look, I’m no saint. I’ve done my share of things and then some, but when the bosses find out what you’ve done, they’re gonna flay the skin off anyone they find. And that’s before they really get started. If I have to end up in prison just to survive…well…I’ll end up in prison, but please don’t leave me here. I will do anything to keep from being left here.”

  Cole looked into the woman’s eyes, even though she couldn’t see him doing so, and he saw a desperation that was almost wild. His mind wandered through the various things he’d done over the past thirteen years and how he could claim being proud of only a very, very few. He had no right to judge this woman. He had no right to judge anyone.

  The first slaves coming out of the pens drew Cole’s attention. They stopped in the compartment where Cole stood with the criminals. Once there were about a hundred, Cole’s team—minus the two standing with Cole—led them out of the compartment, taking up escort positions at the head, rear, and sides of the column.

  Cole double-checked that his external speakers were deactivated and accessed the group channel, saying, “Bridge, you still with us?”

  “Bridge here,” Sasha said.

  “The first batch of captives is heading your way.”

  “I have people waiting at the ship’s airlock,” Sasha said. “Will there be anything else?”

  “Yes, now that you mention it. I need eight armed crew at the airlock to convey eight more prisoners to the brig. One criminal guarding the slaves begged me to take her with me, and my impression is that her fear is genuine. Heh…I’ve seen enough the past thirteen years, too, that makes me think her concerns aren’t hyperbole. She may be a bad person, or she may just be someone who got drawn into the wrong crowd and didn’t know how to get out. Until we know for sure, she can stay in the brig.”

  When the travel team returned, Cole stopped them, pointing at the prisoners. He activated his external speakers along with the group link, saying, “Take the prisoners to the ship with the next group. A team will meet you to transfer them to the brig.”

  Cole stepped out of the way as the travel team added the prisoners to the next group of slaves. The woman he’d spoken with turned to him as she was led out and said, “Thank you! You’ve saved our lives.”

  Just as Cole was about to activate his external speakers to respond, Srexx spoke over the group channel, “Be advised, Cole, that the internal sensors have gone down.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  “What do you mean the internal sensors have gone down?” Cole asked, forgetting he was on the group channel. “Is it something like an overloaded relay or what?”

  “I believe it is sabotage to block overwatch of the team. Just before the sensors went down, I monitored people going to various trunk cabinets near the station’s computer; I have reason to conclude they cut the data lines for the sensors.”

  Cole nodded. “Yeah…they’re coming for us. How did they even know we were here, though?”

  “Unknown, Cole. I have not observed any system alerts or communications regarding your presence. I did block sensor feeds to the station’s various control centers, but I attempted to do so in such a way that the lack of sensor coverage in your part of Deck L-Seven appeared random and normal.”

  Cole shrugged inside the armor. “Don’t worry about it, Srexx. We’ll just move as fast as we can and hope they don’t find us.”

  Cole spent the next half-hour watching the transfer team take the slaves to the ship in groups of a hundred. Taking them in groups of fifty might have been a better option, but to Cole’s mind, they’d been aboard the station too long…even before they lost the overwatch of Srexx accessing the internal sensors. Cole had an itch intensifying between his shoulder blades, and it had nothing do with being inside heavy armor.

  At long last, the final group of slaves gathered to leave the s
tation’s brig. There were fifty-seven. Cole instructed the transfer team to establish a ten-person squad out front for scouting and a five-person team on either side for containment and flank security, with the remaining seventeen plus Cole acting as rear guard. Once everyone was in position, Cole called for the group to head out.

  Cole ensured he was the very last person on the rear guard, and upon leaving the brig, he turned until he was facing back the way they’d come and started walking backward. After walking about five meters backward, a pin-hole camera popped up out of the right pauldron of the armor and provided Cole a tiny rear-view image in the top-right of his HUD.

  They traversed perhaps fifty meters when a flank team called out, “Contact right!”

  Laser fire lit up the area, and more than one of Cole’s people took a hit. Their armor protected them, so far, and none of the slaves were hit. Cole remembered the life-sign sensors in his armor and felt like calling himself a dunce as he brought them online. The range was limited—twenty meters at most—but Cole worked through his implant to share the sensor feed with the rest of the boarding party.

  The sensors in Cole’s armor showed a mass of people to his left, and a group of them moved in a flanking maneuver that would bring them into Cole’s field of view, even as the boarding party kept moving toward the airlock. The first of the flanking group around the corner froze at the sight of Cole in heavy armor, his eyes going wide as tea saucers. He jumped back behind the concealment of the corner, and Cole activated his external microphone just in time to hear, “The boss never said they had heavy armor!”

  “Anyone who surrenders gets to live through this,” Cole said, his armor conveying his voice via the external speakers. “I’d rather not kill or maim any more people than I just have to.”

  A grenade sailed around the corner and bounced off the bulkhead, landing at Cole’s feet. It was a fragmentation device, and Cole barely felt the grenade’s shockwave through the armor, let alone the peppering against his armor that the tiny shrapnel of the grenade’s housing became.

 

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