No Middle Ground (Spineward Sectors: Middleton's Pride)

by Caleb Wachter

  “Ion turrets?” Sherman asked as the chuckles died down and the shuttle banked perceptibly, probably during final approach to their target. “I thought you said this thing was filled with delicate electronics?”

  Joneson nodded approvingly, “You catch everything, don’t you, Sherm? Imperial tech’s different than ours; for the most part their high-end hardware is shielded from ionic interference, so weapons employing ion pulses are the only ranged deterrent we’re likely to encounter. The rest of our contact should be of the up close and far-too-personal variety—just like Gnuko around shower time.”

  “Hey, c’mon! I already said that was an accident—it was wet, so my feet slipped!” Gnuko objected loudly as an infectious smile betrayed his protestation. The cabin was filled with nervous laughter at his duplicitous protest—laughter to which even Fei Long joined in, as Lu Bu saw from the corner of her eye.

  “It’s the showers, Gnuko,” the Sergeant deadpanned with a disbelieving shake of his head as he, too, began to chuckle, “they’re supposed to be wet.” The laughter rose to a deafening roar in the cramped compartment as Lu Bu found herself joining in with the merriment.

  “Touchdown in thirty seconds,” the pilot called over the comm., interrupting the pre-battle mirth.

  “You heard the woman,” Joneson barked as the group’s laughter slowly died down. “Saddle up, check you gear, and prepare to move out. High-end Imperial facilities are rumored to be insertion-proof,” he swept the cabin with a serious look, “but the wall hasn’t been built that can stop determined Lancers from climbing over it—especially when they look so damned good!”

  The Lancers bellowed their wordless assent as the braking thrusters fired on the shuttle and there was an audible clang beneath their feet, causing Lu Bu’s muscles to tense with anticipation.

  “Mr. Fei is the ball,” Joneson bellowed as his hand went to the doorway’s activation button. “Gnuko, Sherman, Thomas and Lu: protect the operative in a tight, two-by-two shell. Atticus, Peleus, Brasidas and Laertes: you’re on point with me. Gong and Lei: cover the rear. Move out!” he barked as he slammed his Storm Drake-clad hand against the button, causing the cabin to depressurize gently, with the majority of the atmosphere having already been vented during the approach.

  The four Tracto-ans leapt down the ramp after Sergeant Joneson, and even Fei Long managed to insert himself into the formation of the unit’s protective detail before they made their way out of the shuttle and followed the squad on point.

  They descended the ramp quickly, and Lu Bu scanned the nearby environs for signs of motion. They were clearly in some kind of docking area, with a single corridor leading directly ahead—presumably toward the heart of the ComStat hub.

  Lu Bu looked briefly over her shoulder and saw the emptiness of space on the other side of the boarding shuttle, and for the first time in her life she realized she was doing something she had never truly dreamed possible. During the boarding action on the enemy Destroyer, she had simply kept her mind free from distractions and focused on the immediate needs of the situation. But looking out at that star field, she knew that doing so may have actually changed something within her.

  She pushed the thought from her mind as they entered the corridor, with a vibro-weapon in the hands of each team member, and she noted that the corridor was nearly three meters wide. It was a fairly tight fit for the protective unit, but they managed to make their way down in quick order, with Gong and Lei bringing up the rear.

  She saw a flash of light up ahead and instinctively placed a hand on Fei Long’s bulky, padded shoulder, which she pressed down with probably more force than she should have and sent the boy to the deck.

  If he protested, she was unable to hear it as she saw another pair of flashes, and this time she saw that the Tracto-ans were taking blue-white bolts of energy weapon fire.

  The protective squad tensed and used hand signals to communicate, with Gnuko taking the lead as squad commander. He ordered them to continue their advance and the unit quickly did so, despite the incoming fire the point team was taking.

  Lu Bu saw Atticus brandishing his boarding axe as he tore into a nearby, pop-out style turret, sending arcs of electricity flaring intermittently from the weapon as Sergeant Joneson did likewise on the other side of the corridor with the turret’s paired unit.

  The other Tracto-ans surged down the corridor as a flicker of movement further down indicated another pair of turrets popping out to take aim at the oncoming Lancers. Brasidas and Peleus each took a bolt in the chest, but the Storm Drake hide proved Sergeant Joneson’s assertion that it was an unbelievably resilient material as they did little more than stagger from the impacts before laying into the turrets with their own boarding axes.

  With their work at the first turrets finished, Sergeant Joneson and Lancer Atticus leapfrogged the savagely chopping Peleus and Brasidas. Joneson, Laertes, and Atticus then methodically tore into another set of turrets before they even had time to fully pop out, and Lu Bu’s squad was able to advance at a brisk pace behind their lead blocking unit comprised of the Sergeant and four Tracto-ans.

  As Peleus and Brasidas made to leapfrog Joneson, Laertes, and Atticus, a nearby conduit exploded and Laertes was enveloped in a wreath of angry, blue flame. His body crashed into the opposite bulkhead and he went immediately limp as the flames quickly died down—but not after destroying his life support unit and causing it to vent its stored gases.

  When it was clear Laertes did not survive the explosion, they continued to advance until they reached a junction of some sort. To either side was a short, blind corridor extending approximately eight meters perpendicular to the main corridor down which they had just advanced, and it was into one of these corridors which Fei Long quickly ducked and knelt down.

  Thinking him a coward, Lu Bu made to grab him and set him back onto the path, but before she could do so she saw him extend his hands through thin, delicate gloves set beneath his bulky work-suit’s main arms. He then withdrew a small, clearly modified data slate and uncoiled a tiny wire from around it, which he then inserted into a nearby slit which Lu Bu had barely even noticed.

  A moment later the data slate powered up and a sequence of images and glyphs began to populate its screen before rapidly cycling blank and re-populating with a different sequence. This process repeated as Fei Long deftly tapped the icons as quickly as it seemed human fingers could move, and once again Lu Bu was impressed by his apparent abilities.

  He continued for several seconds until Corporal Gnuko moved to Lu Bu’s side and made the ‘status update’ gesture.

  She quickly flashed the signs for ‘controlled stop,’ ‘computer,’ and ‘access.’ The Corporal nodded curtly and gestured for the other nearby Lancers to form up on the junction.

  A few seconds later, she saw Fei Long remove the wire from the wall and replace the data slate into a cleverly-concealed pocket in his work-suit. He then tapped the side of his obtrusive helmet while giving Lu Bu a pointed look.

  She tapped the side of her helmet to activate the com-link and immediately heard his voice, “We have comm. access for approximately three minutes. I suggest you inform the squad and we continue.”

  Lu Bu turned and gestured for comm. check to the other Lancers, who all immediately tapped their activation switched on the outsides of their helmets. “We have comm. for less than three minutes.”

  “Regroup with the Sergeant,” Gnuko ordered, and just as Fei Long made his way back to the corridor the squad resumed its journey down the corridor.

  Thirty seconds later they had re-joined Sergeant Joneson, who activated his own comm. unit after Gnuko gestured for him to do so. “How’d we get comm.?” he demanded.

  “I sent the hub’s broadcast system into a rapid diagnostic cycle,” Fei Long said over the channel. “The process will only last for another two minutes, after which we will be blacked out.”

  “Can you open that door?” Joneson gestured down the corridor about ten meters.

 
“Yes,” Fei Long replied simply.

  “Then move out,” Joneson snapped as his squad moved to secure the door before the rest of the Lancers followed.

  When they arrived at the door, Fei Long withdrew another data slate with an entirely different wire connected to it as he tilted his head toward a bulkhead panel near the floor. “Please remove that panel.”

  “Atticus,” Joneson said, stepping aside for the larger man.

  “Delicately, please,” Fei Long said sharply as Atticus brought his axe up. He lowered the weapon and reached down to grasp the panel before giving a mighty heave. Unfortunately, the panel did little more than budge. He adjusted his grip and posture before trying again, but again he found no success.

  “Move,” Lu Bu said to Fei Long, who did as she said and after he had cleared the area, she knelt beside one edge of the panel and gripped with her fingers. “One, two, three,” she said after making eye contact with Atticus, and between the two of them they tore the cover off the complex series of circuits and crystalline boards which it had protected.

  “Thank you,” Fei Long said as he knelt beside the panel and carefully inserted the free end of the cable attached to the new data slate. After he had done so, he again began to cycle through page after page of data before apparently finding what he was looking for and rapidly inputting commands to the slate.

  “Comm. blackout in forty five seconds,” Gnuko said.

  “Larry that, Corporal,” Joneson replied just as Gong and Thomas yelped in surprise.

  Turning to see the source, Lu Bu barely had time to twist out of the way as a small, needle-like projectile silently flew through the space her left shoulder had occupied prior to reacting. The weapon impacted on the panel behind her and she saw a drop of green, viscous fluid drip from its tip after it fell to the deck.

  “Take cover,” Joneson bellowed and the Lancers followed his instruction and flattened themselves against whatever nearby surfaces they could find. A few seconds later Thomas and Gong began to spasm violently, writhing uncontrollably on the floor for several seconds before going limp. Each had a needle-like projectile similar to the one Lu Bu had narrowly avoided protruding from their torsos.

  Down the corridor in the direction of their shuttle was a hovering orb of some kind that looked to be around a meter in diameter. It had several external armatures protruding from its spherical body, and three of those armatures were spinning as they clearly meant to re-load.

  Lu Bu, having studied armaments for the past several months, recognized the platform as an MR-93 defensive hover-unit. It was a fairly common unit in this part of the Spine and was often used by criminals or other outfits operating on a tight budget. But she had never heard of an automated system like that being deployed by the Imperials—or being outfitted with poison projectiles.

  “Protect the operative, Lancers,” Joneson roared, making eye contact with Lu Bu as he stood and drew his vibro-knives. “Complete this mission—no matter the cost!”

  With that, he charged down the corridor with his knives brandished, bellowing a wordless, primal roar.

  Lu Bu felt like charging after her Sergeant, and she might have just done so a few weeks earlier. But he had given her one last look before doing precisely what he had ordered the rest of them to do—and she knew what that look had told her:

  Protect the ball.

  So it was with a mixture of emotions—all of which she knew needed to be forced from her mind—that she watched as her commander closed to grips with the hovering orb that had already cost two of her fellows their lives.

  He rammed his vibro-knives into the bases of the armatures, the force of his blows knocking the floating orb into the bulkhead as he savagely removed the first arm with repeated strikes. Lu Bu felt tears well up in her eyes as the Sergeant continued his attack, even after being struck by two of the needle-like weapons which the platform fired point-blank into his chest while arcs of electricity from other armatures on the orb’s surface scorched holes in Sergeant Joneson’s armor.

  His vibro-knives fell to the ground before he could remove the second weapon arm, and Lu Bu saw a pair of turrets pop out near some fifteen meters down from the Sergeant’s position. In the most incredible display of courage, determination, and physical prowess Lu Bu had ever seen, Walter Joneson—the greatest smashball player to ever don the pads—wrapped his arms loosely around the MR-93 series defensive unit and drove it back with all his awesome power.

  He easily overcame the MR-93’s lateral stabilizers with his churning legs and incredible balance, and physically drove it back five…ten…then fifteen meters down the corridor as the turrets opened up on continuous fire, hammering his torso with repeated impacts just as he neared the turret’s position.

  It was there that the vile poisons coursing through his veins worked their evil, and the peerless Walter Joneson finally succumbed to their foul effect and collapsed to his knees—but only an instant before the MR-93 defensive unit struck the turret on the left side of the corridor.

  As the MR-93 crashed into the turret, there was a bright, flameless explosion which would have made any of the Great Ancestors proud to call their own funeral pyre. The raw power of that explosion tore the mighty Lancer Sergeant Walter Joneson’s body apart—as well as reduce the MR-93 and two defensive turrets to piles of slag, and even less recognizable fragments.

  “On task, Lancers,” Corporal Gnuko snapped, and Lu Bu felt the tears stream down her cheeks as she turned to see that Fei Long had managed to open the door.

  Doing her best to focus on the task at hand, Lu Bu was filled with pride at having been able to serve alongside Sergeant Walter Joneson, and she silently promised to construct a tablet for him and place it prominently wherever she called her home for the rest of her life.

  With that, she managed to push the rising tide of emotions from her mind and re-focus on the task at hand. She knew in that moment that she had finally learned the lesson which Walter Joneson had taught her at the price of a broken jaw, and that she would honor his memory with her actions forever.

  “Move out, Team Atticus,” Gnuko ordered, and the Tracto-an did as he was instructed, moving Brasidas and Peleus through the doorway and into the chamber within just as the com-link died once again.

  When the rest of the Lancers entered, Lu Bu checked the environment and saw a massive, glowing, cylindrical structure in the center of the circular room. It must have measured four meters across, and extended upward and downward, apparently through the ceiling and floor of the chamber.

  There were several access stations in the room and after Gnuko had signaled that the room was clear, Fei Long moved quickly to one of these stations and withdrew yet another data slate. This one had three separate wires neatly coiled against each other, and he carefully uncoiled them as he inserted them into the console before himself.

  The glowing, cylindrical structure in the center of the room slowly increased in its intensity, and Lu Bu moved to cover Fei Long’s flank as he continued to work furiously—and simultaneously—with the data slate and the now-active access console. The light emanating from the cylinder intensified until her helmet’s auto-filtration systems kicked in and blocked a significant portion of incoming light.

  She felt heat through her suit and looked down anxiously at Fei Long’s efforts, which were so foreign to her she wondered why she even bothered, in what appeared to be her last moments. The cylinder was almost certainly a power source, and it was certainly building up to an overload—one did not require multiple degrees in engineering, or particle theory, or whatever else it was the officers studied, to see that.

  His fingers flew faster across the dual consoles faster than she could believe, and his eyes flicked back and forth between the readouts as he shook his head fiercely. Through the narrow slit in his work-suit’s viewer, she saw that he was squinting through the blinding light, as apparently his own visor’s light filter had failed. She quickly stepped between himself and the reactor, cupping her hands be
side his visor as she did so, careful not to obstruct his view.

  Impossibly, he seemed to work even faster after she did this, and just as she felt a palpable thrum begin to shake the deck plates, the light of the reactor began to dim and Fei Long’s efforts become more deliberate, his pace slowing until he was moving no faster than the average computer operator aboard the Pride of Prometheus.

  “The self-destruct sequence has been disabled,” he said in a tremulous, scratchy voice. “I have assumed control of the primary computer.”

  “Lancers, sound off,” Gnuko snapped, causing Atticus, Brasidas, Peleus, Lei and Lu to do so. When Sherman’s voice was notably absent, Lu Bu turned to see that he had collapsed near the door. A closer inspection revealed that his helmet had been compromised by one of the poisoned needles, the body of which was still lodged in his visor. But it looked like the tip had not made contact with his skin, at least from where Lu Bu was standing.

  “Among men, Lu Bu,” Fei Long said, his voice having returned to something approaching his normal, admirably calm, tone.

  “Among horses, Red Hare,” Lu Bu responded with a curt nod, which she hoped adequately conveyed her thanks, as she finished the famous saying regarding her namesake and his legendary steed.

  The tag on her armor which bore her name, using the characters of her home world rather than Confederation Standard lettering, contained additional characters which formed the complete phrase: Lu Bu’s Red Hare. She knew that only two people aboard the Pride of Prometheus were likely to have read the ancient tome Romance of the Three Kingdoms, which she had nearly completed. Doctor Middleton was one, but she was unlikely to have participated in the creation of military equipment of any kind, which left only Fei Long.

  “You have my eternal respect and gratitude, Lu Bu,” Fei Long said in a tone that took her by surprise, and she felt a flash of something which spread from her belly to her fingertips.