Keel stormed into the room and took in the scene in a second, a skill pressed on him by endless training in Dark Ops. Prisma was seated on her bunk, her legs hanging off its edge, swinging casually. Kneeling in front of her was another Endurian. One who looked from head to toe, down to the last stitch of clothing, exactly like Leenah.
The door had opened in mid-conversation, and to Keel it sounded like this room’s Leenah was saying, “Tell me again how you make it move.”
Both Prisma and Leenah swung their heads to look at Keel. He placed the sights of his blaster rifle on the head of this room’s Leenah. It was a snap decision, but one that he didn’t doubt for a second. He squeezed the trigger. Two blaster bolts struck the kneeling Leenah directly in her temple.
An alien, digital sound issued from her mouth as her body fell over, lifeless. Keel advanced on the target, Exo close behind him.
Blaster-scorched holes in the target’s head revealed an adamantine-like skeleton and various circuitry. This must be one of the robotic replicants Garret had mentioned.
It began to move.
Keel unholstered Tyrus Rechs’s slug thrower and sent two bullets into the bot, one into its head and one where its heart would be. The depleted uranium bullets left massive holes in the machine. It ceased moving.
The sound of the shots was deafening in the small room. Keel’s ears rang intensely, and he wondered why he’d left his bucket off. Prisma covered her ears and screamed.
Leenah, the real Leenah, rushed into the room to comfort Prisma.
“I thought she was you,” Prisma sobbed, holding on to Leenah tightly. “I couldn’t tell that she wasn’t. I should’ve been able to, but I couldn’t.”
Leenah held Prisma’s head against her chest and stroked her hair as she helped her off the bed. “It’s all right. But we have to get you out of here.”
Prisma looked down at the destroyed replicant and then to Keel. “You came for me.”
Keel’s ears were still ringing. Leaving his bucket on his webbing had been a dumb move. Exactly what he’d told himself not to do. But he’d wanted Leenah to see his face. And he had wanted Prisma to see it, too. He remembered how frightened she’d been when he’d rescued her the first time, when Tyrus Rechs blew himself up on Tusca.
“Yeah, well,” Keel said, “I guess it was the right thing to do.”
Prisma screwed up her face. “That doesn’t sound like you at all.”
“Cute.” Keel put his helmet back on. “Don’t push it, kid.”
He stepped outside. The other cells were, of course, empty, but he was relieved that there were no klaxons blaring or the sound of footfalls from advancing guards or war bots.
“It’s like nobody running this ship even cares,” he mumbled to himself. He turned to verify that Prisma and Leenah were still right behind him, trying to drive away the thought that they, too, might be replicants.
“Why did you shoot the fake Leenah?” Prisma asked. “How did you know?”
“Lot of reasons,” Keel answered.
“I’d kind of like to know too,” said Leenah.
Keel counted on his fingers. “First, I found you in your cell. I doubt they sent the replicant in there whenever you visited Prisma. Second, when you kissed me—”
“Ew, you kissed him?” Prisma said.
Leenah blushed a deeper shade of pink.
“Yes,” Keel said. “She liked it, too.”
“Pretty ballsy to shoot your girlfriend, bot or not,” Hutch called out.
Keel ignored him.
Prisma was holding a marble in her hands. She stuffed it into a pocket and held out an open palm. “Someone give me a blaster.”
“We don’t arm children to fight our fights,” said Bombassa.
“I know how to shoot,” Prisma insisted. “Tyrus Rechs taught me. Shoot with your mind, not with your hand. I’m not afraid to kill someone.”
“Then that is all the more reason why you should not have a weapon,” Bombassa said, moving away from the little girl in an attempt to make that the conversation’s last word.
But Prisma was undeterred. She followed Bombassa, speaking loudly. “They’re not just going to let you go. They only kept Leenah alive because they knew if they didn’t I would never speak to them again. They’re afraid of me, and they want to know things about me. Things I don’t even know about myself. Things I’ve never even heard of. But… maybe Ravi knows.” She considered her last words. “Is Ravi here?”
“Back at the ship,” Keel said.
Exo pinged Keel over the comm. “Dude, you weren’t kidding about her.”
“Tell me about it.”
“They’re going to try and stop you from getting me off of this ship,” Prisma said, still following her rescuers. “I know they will. It’s because I can kill them. All of them. And they know it and it scares them, even though they’re machines.”
Keel stopped to look at the little girl. The way she was talking made him uncomfortable. He had been wondering whether she might have been a replicant, same as the one in the room with her, but there was no way a bot would go on like this.
“Little girl,” Exo said, rolling his shoulders as if to take away the strain of his webbing and combat kit. “You’re starting to freak me out. Why you gotta be like this?”
Prisma balled her fists on her hips and craned her neck to look up at the shock trooper. “Because it’s the truth. They’re afraid of me. They weren’t afraid of my father, but they are afraid of me.”
The team was nearing the guard control room at the center of the detention block, where the frozen guard bot kept its holo-feed vigil.
“We’re almost out of here,” Keel said, hurrying his pace. He was starting to grow uneasy about this whole situation. “So if you could just save all your prophecies for later, like when we’re safely on the ship, that would be much appreciated. Generally, these kill team mission are quiet affairs.”
The words seemed to mean nothing to Prisma. “If I can’t have a blaster then what about Crash? We have to find him! I can’t leave him, he’s my friend!”
“Garret’s probably already got him loaded up on the ship,” Keel said, annoyed. He paused and softened his tone. “Which is where we should be. The sooner we get there, the better. And I think it will go a lot easier if we don’t shout out our location to the machines you keep saying are going to try and kill us all.”
Keel looked at Leenah, who gave an appreciative nod.
“Okay,” said Prisma. She picked up her pace. “I still think I should have a blaster. Tyrus Rechs would let me have a blaster.”
“I’m not Tyrus Rechs.”
Leenah placed a hand at the center of Prisma’s back. “You don’t need a blaster. We’ll protect you. We’ll take care of you.”
Prisma didn’t argue. But neither did she stop complaining. “What about Skrizz? Is he on the ship with Garret, too?”
Nobody said anything. They just looked from one to another, waiting to see how this particular complication would be dealt with.
“He’s not dead, is he?”
“He’s alive,” Leenah said somewhat hesitantly. “But he’s been coming and going on his own, and we don’t know where he is right now.”
Keel winced at these words. They were the truth, but it would have been a lot easier to just tell the kid that her bot and her cat were waiting for her on the ship. She’d get over it. Eventually.
“What? We can’t leave then!” Prisma stopped moving and made a show of planting her feet.
Keel’s head dropped, but his shoulders didn’t sag. He turned around and walked a few paces to stand right before Prisma. Exo and Bombassa inched forward at the front of the column, scanning for any signs of trouble. Hutch, his hands still bound, wore a smug, amused smile.
“Prisma,” Keel said, dropping to a knee. The girl pressed against Leenah. “He’s a cat. He’ll find his way to the ship before we leave.”
“He’s not a cat, he’s a wobanki. And I saw him get lost
plenty of times in his own ship when he was with Hogus!”
Keel looked up at Leenah and asked, “Who’s Hogus?”
Leenah gently squeezed Prisma’s hand. “He’s the star freighter captain who took Prisma to find Tyrus Rechs. Skrizz was his co-pilot.”
“He’s dead now,” Prisma said matter-of-factly. “Got shot by a legionnaire when he was trying to take advantage of people.”
Keel stood up. “Thanks for the review. Skrizz will be fine, but I’m not so sure about the rest of us. Now, I’d like to use both of my hands to shoot bad guys, but if I have to use one of them to carry you, I will.”
Exo’s voice sounded over the comm. “Hey, sounds like someone’s coming.”
Keel lowered his bucket’s audio output and said, “Someone’s coming. Keep quiet.”
“Give me a weapon,” Hutch demanded.
“Me too,” said Prisma, doing her best to sound just like as hard as the Nether Ops agent.
Leenah pulled Prisma behind a bulkhead at the side of the corridor as Exo and Bombassa moved forward incrementally to intercept the threat.
They could all hear metallic footsteps at the corridor intersection ahead of them. An artificial voice removed any doubt they might have had about what was out there. “Is someone in the cell block?”
The voice sounded like it belonged to some sort of robotic police officer. Keel couldn’t say why he thought that, only that he did. But that was the thing about bots: brilliant people spent lots of time modulating voice controls, programming mannerisms, and sculpting appearances to give off just the right feeling for the job. Keel guessed it was the same guard they’d encountered previously—that he was no longer frozen at the station. He was making the rounds.
The guard bot turned the corner. Its servos went silent for a second before it reached for the blaster that was attached to its side. Exo and Bombassa fired in unison, each shock trooper striking the bot, one at center mass and the other a headshot.
The machine flew apart in a shower of sparks. Clearly this was not a model meant for fighting wars.
Everyone stood, rigid and tense, waiting for an alarm that didn’t come.
“Starting to think this is all too easy,” Keel said.
“Maybe they’re just watching,” said Hutch, scratching the side of his face with his bound hands. “These things are messed up. Back before Garret was able to keep us hidden, one of them was talking to me. Hacked its way into my bucket. Forced me to watch on my HUD my buddies getting ripped apart. Tortured to death. These aren’t your everyday average machines. These things are malevolent, and I wouldn’t be surprised if they’re just getting a kick out of seeing how far we can make it before the world comes crashing down.”
“Sounds like a good reason to get out now,” Bombassa said, looking nervously around the area.
“So you don’t wanna try to take the ship?” Exo asked. “Because I’m good with that.”
Bombassa shook his head. “I am beginning to agree that such a plan is untenable. Call it a bad feeling.”
“Come on,” Keel said, retaking the lead and carefully looking around the corner the bot had come from. It was all clear. He motioned for the others to follow. The guard control room at the hub of the prison complex was empty.
“It is a straight shot to the docking bay from here,” announced Bombassa. “Are we ready to make the move?”
“One sec.” Keel moved to check the holo-feeds, hoping to find some clues as to what—if anything—might be waiting for them. Aware that Prisma and Leenah were looking over his shoulder, he cycled quickly past the feed that showed the grotesque image of the of the tortured and dead legionnaire, but he wasn’t fast enough. Both Prisma and Leenah gasped during the half second the image appeared. “Sorry about that.”
Finally, Keel found a wide view that showed thumbnails of each cam feed. The interface was similar to those used on Republic facilities, and his intuition on how to back out from here and find more blocks of security feeds worked. Soon he was looking at an ordered list of every security station throughout the ship. He began opening them, quickly scanning the multiple thumbnails, backing out, and repeating.
Everything looked empty, but the sheer number of barracks, hangars, meeting rooms, galleys, and restrooms made Keel assume that the fleet had originally been built for a humanoid crew. If that was the Republic’s intent, then what had happened? Was it CRONUS that had chosen to form a bot fleet instead? It was chilling to think that the AI had begun constructing war machines of its own initiative.
“This boat is empty wherever I look,” Keel called out to the shock troopers. “Let’s move to the docking bay and get aboard the Six.”
“Everything looked nice and clean when we got here, too,” Hutch said ominously. “But it turned out it was just the bots waiting for the right time to spring an ambush.”
“Seems like the bots have had plenty of ‘right times’ to try and hit us,” countered Exo.
“Is there anything waiting for us in the hangar, perhaps?” Bombassa asked Keel.
“No,” said Keel. “I checked that too. The Six is still parked where we left it, with no one else around.”
“Good,” Leenah said, smiling. “I wouldn’t want her to get a scratch.”
Exo laughed. “So let’s go already—”
A voice that sounded like thousands of whispers came from the corners of the guard control room.
“Abandon all hope-hope-hope-hope…”
The last word seemed to echo, refusing to leave the ears.
Immediately, weapons were up. Everyone turned slowly, trying to see where the voice was coming from, but there were no visible speakers in the walls.
Prisma wrapped her arms tightly around Leenah’s waist.
The hushed voices repeated. “Abandon all hope-hope-hope…”
The screen Keel had been watching fritzed and flickered, and then what looked like a spectral, disembodied skull with glowing red eyes superimposed itself in front of the holo-feed displays. The ghost’s mouth gaped wide, as if speaking, and the words issued across the room again. “Abandon all hope-hope-hope…”
Keel’s first instinct was to blast the monitor, but stopped as the ghost in the machine addressed him directly.
“Wraith, alias Aeson Ford. Victory Kill Team. Alias Aeson Keel, Operation Righteous Destiny. Abandon all hope-hope-hope…”
Keel took a step back from the screen. “What is this?”
Prisma, still squeezing her arms around Leenah, whispered the answer. “It’s him. It’s CRONUS. He’s coming for us.”
“Let him come!” shouted Exo as he looked around the room, sending out a challenge.
The specter replied, “Sergeant Major Caleb Gutierrez. Imperial Shadow Squadron Alpha. Operation Indigo. Abandon all hope-hope-hope…”
The room went silent for a moment, then the voice continued.
“Chief Warrant Officer Two Okimbo Bombassa, Imperial Shadow Squadron Alpha, Operation Indigo, Operation Reliance. Abandon all-hope-hope-hope…”
“Nether Ops Agent Hutch Makaw, Operation Black Heart, Operation Left Turn, Operation Golden Prince, Operation Severe Wing. Abandon all—”
Keel blasted the display, sending white-hot sparks flying in every direction. The voice went silent. “That was getting tedious,” Keel said. “Everyone, move. We’re leaving.”
“The machine was trying to distract us,” Bombassa observed.
“Yep,” Keel agreed. “Whatever’s coming is already on the way, so be careful when that door opens.”
“Aeson,” Leenah called. She was struggling with Prisma, who was refusing to move. “Help.”
“No!” Prisma shouted. “Not without Skrizz! They’ll kill him!”
“Kid,” shouted Hutch, “they’ll kill all of us if we don’t get going!”
“Then just leave!” Prisma retorted. “I don’t care if they kill me! I don’t! But I won’t leave him!” The little girl began to sniffle and sob. “I don’t want anyone else I care about
to die.”
09
Keel looked at Prisma and shook his head. “Not this again. We’re going to carry you. You’re not that big.”
“Go ahead and try!” Prisma shouted.
“Hutch!” Keel called out. “Your hands are free. Pick her up.”
The Nether Ops agent shrugged his shoulders. “Wouldn’t be the first time I had to drag a member of your crew kicking and screaming.”
He walked over to Prisma, a slight limp still evident, and lifted her effortlessly, his big arms tucked underneath hers, holding her tightly against his chest. “Time to move, little girl.”
Leenah put a staying hand on Hutch’s bicep. “Be careful with her.”
“No problem.”
Bombassa and Exo were at the door that led out of the guard control room and back to the long hallway down which they’d originally come. Exo poked his head out, then quickly pulled it back in as a burst of blaster fire sizzled through the open door, sending showering sparks where it impacted on a far wall. “Looks like the party really is starting!” Exo screamed.
“Bots!” Bombassa shouted, also taking cover from the open doorway. “Two big ones. Really big. They just came out of the walls and are coming our way.”
Prisma was squirming and kicking in Hutch’s arms. The Nether Ops agent grunted through speaking. “Those sound like the Titans. Bad news.”
“Let me go!” Prisma screamed. She opened her mouth and bit down on Hutch’s gloved hand.
Hutch inhaled in pain. “Knock it off, you little brat!”
“Wraith!” Exo called between bursts of return fire. “What’s the plan? We gonna try and push through?”
“We can’t stay here!” Keel took one look at the struggling mess that was Prisma, Hutch, and Leenah, then moved toward the entryway. He peeked out to get an idea of what was coming toward them.
The bots were at least a foot taller than KRS-88. In one hand, each bot held a white shield, the type used by riot police, only much bigger—tall as a man and twice as wide. In the other hand was what appeared to be a tri-barreled N-50. Those guns were capable of taking down a light-armored combat sled or an unshielded starfighter, let alone a tiny boarding party.
Message for the Dead (Galaxy's Edge Book 8) Page 10
