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Ghost Star (Ghost Star Adventures)

Page 13

by Roger Eschbacher


  Galen glanced at the others. “Why are you telling us this?”

  “Respect.”

  He went back into the chamber, motioning for the guards to follow with their prisoners. Once inside, Galen was nearly knocked down by Trem.

  “Galen!” shouted his sister as she leaped into his arms. “You came! I knew you would. I knew you’d come and get me!” She leaned in and whispered in Galen’s ear. “I knew you were here, too.”

  “I’m here all right.”

  “Who are they?” whispered Trem, looking at Burr, Iden, and Messel.

  “They’re friends,” said Galen. “Everyone, this is my sister, Trem.”

  The other Ruam bowed slightly.

  “It is an honor to finally meet you,” said Messel.

  “Indeed it is,” said Burr.

  Trem smiled. “It’s nice to meet you, too. Are you going to help my brother kill the stupid Nell?”

  Burr and the others shifted uncomfortably under the gaze of the Imp marines.

  “That was the original plan, I’m sure,” said Lord Mohk, from a doorway behind them. “Unfortunately for you, the stupid Nell is not stupid.”

  “All hail the mighty Lord Mohk,” said Dur, kneeling and motioning for the others to do so as well. Burr, Iden, and Messel did, but Galen calmly set Trem down and took a step away from her.

  **

  Outside in the passageway, an armored marine walked to the doorway and casually saluted the Terran guard. “You’re early,” said the guard. “I’m on duty for another half.”

  The marine lifted her visor. “I go where they tell me to when they tell me to,” said Eria, leaning closer. “Why? Are you complaining?”

  “Not at all,” said the guard, swallowing hard. “So . . . you new?”

  “Yeah, papers just came through,” said Eria.

  “Some first assignment. His Highness is a real piece of work.”

  “So I heard. He in there alone?”

  “No. He’s with D squad and his assistant, along with some prisoners.”

  Eria’s heart skipped a beat. “Prisoners?”

  “Yeah, some fools they caught sneaking onto the ship. Can you imagine? Sneaking onto the Lingering Death?”

  “Yeah, makes no sense.”

  The guard leaned closer. “Probably something to do with that smuggler kid they caught a while back. My corporal says she’s Ruam!”

  “Really?”

  “Truth! She’s in there, too.”

  Eria took a deep breath. This changed everything. Her plan of getting inside, then leaving behind a bolt-ridden Nell corpse would have to be adjusted. “Anything else I should know?”

  “Let’s see. Oh. Whatever you do, don’t look at him directly unless he’s talking to you, or you’ll end up with a foreclaw at your throat. Happened to me my first day.”

  Eria grinned. “Thanks for the tip.”

  “No problem,” said the guard as he shouldered his rifer. “Hey, maybe I could buy you a brew, explain some more about how things work around here.”

  “Maybe you could. Thanks.”

  The guard stumbled away, glancing back at her until he turned the corner.

  As soon as he was gone, Eria dropped the act and fiddled with the built-in com controls on her forearm, searching for the right frequency, the com frequency of whatever military happened to be on the other side of the door. To her disgust, she cut into the arrogant Nell in midsentence. “A surprisingly high number of Ruam are located there. A rather large remnant for an ‘extinct’ species.”

  **

  Inside the room, looks of stunned horror spread across the faces of each Ruam.

  “How . . . ?” said Iden.

  Dur gestured at Trem. “She told us.”

  “I didn’t tell them anything!” said Trem. “He’s lying!”

  “She has a link to all surviving Ruam,” said Dur. “I’m sure you’re aware of this ability.”

  A look of understanding swept over Burr’s face. “She has the sense.”

  “Yes. That is how we found your remnant. That is how we found you, Lord Bray. We accessed that link. Delivering the remaining Ruam into the hands of the High Command will change my status instantly. Don’t you agree, Dur?” Mohk said.

  “Of course, my Lord Mohk. Such a coup would certainly warrant a seat on the High Command itself.”

  Mohk grinned. He looked like he had eaten a large and satisfying meal. “Do you think they would care one way or the other if these Ruam were delivered dead or alive?”

  “I believe the preference would be for them to be alive so the Command members themselves might join in on the kill,” said Dur. But, of course, you already know that.

  Mohk frowned. “I suppose you’re right.”

  “I’m not helping you. Fly the tube yourselves,” said Galen.

  “Oh, we tried. Unfortunately, the descent is so dangerous, none of my arcships survived the journey,” said Mohk. “Apparently a certain skill is needed. What do they call it, Dur?”

  “Slowtime, my lord.”

  “Yes, that’s it. You are left with two choices. Either you pilot one of my troop carriers to the surface, or I fill the access tube with thousands of plasma bombs. A few are bound to get through, yes?”

  **

  Outside in the passageway, Eria stood frozen in place, unable to process what she’d heard. She had to warn Dob. But how? According to Burr, transmission signals, no matter how strong, couldn’t make it far into the energy chaos that was the tube. Eria paused. Of course. The Ghost Star. Even without Galen in the command chair, the spacecraft could still go far enough down the tube to send a warning to Dob. She pulled her encrypted com out of a side pocket and keyed it to Hex. “Hex, do you read me?”

  “Yes, I read you.”

  Eria spent the next several moments relating what she’d heard to Hex and Bartrice, and while they were reluctant to leave the away team on the Lingering Death, they all agreed about what had to be done.

  “I believe I should be sad about this,” said Bartrice, her voice uncharacteristically strained.

  “I believe you should be, too. Eria out.”

  **

  Onboard the Ghost Star, Hex made ready to leave. The Lingering Death’s thrusters had cut out shortly after Galen and the others infiltrated the massive spacecraft, so they didn’t have to worry about dodging the plasma exhaust. The Ghost Star detached and remained in place while the Lingering Death pulled away.

  **

  “Lord Mohk, we found the vessel. It’s drifting away from our stern,” said the flight officer on the vidscreen.

  A chill fell over Galen and the others.

  “Put it on the screen, and ready the aft batteries,” said Mohk.

  “Target acquired.”

  The Ghost Star filled the screen, tumbling without power in the wake of the warship.

  “You should all be interested in this,” said Mohk.

  “Aft batteries charged.”

  “No, please don’t,” whispered Galen.

  The Nell lord grinned. “Aft batteries, fire at will.”

  The lights briefly dimmed, and a deep hum rose from the depths of the Lingering Death.

  “No!” screamed Galen as he charged at Mohk. Before he could take more than a couple of steps, two things happened. On the screen, the Ghost Star turned into a mini supernova, and a rifer butt to the base of his skull caused a similar explosion in Galen’s mind. His ship and Bartrice and Hex . . . were no more. As he fell forward into blackness, Galen wanted the same for himself.

  **

  Sometime later, Galen opened his eyes and immediately wished he hadn’t. His head pounded with the worst headache he’d ever experienced, but that wasn’t the reason he wanted to turn the switch off again. It was the memories that came flooding back. “Why do I keep getting knocked out?”

  Iden shrugged. “Just lucky, I guess.”

  “It sucks,” said Galen, trying to sit.

  “Don’t move,” said Burr.

&
nbsp; Galen closed his eyes. “How long have I been unconscious?”

  “Several hours.”

  Galen glanced around the cell. Trem was there, too.

  “Yes, Trem is here,” said Burr. “Messel and Iden are in the cell next door. Everyone is accounted for.”

  He’d put such an odd emphasis on the word everyone that Galen had to double-check what he’d just heard. Burr, Trem, Messel, Iden . . . no Eria! At least there’s some hope. Although what I’m hoping for at this point escapes me.

  Trem sat down on Galen’s bunk and patted her brother’s hand. “Don’t give up,” she said. “That’s what our father would say, right?”

  “Yes, he would. At least I get to see you again, Trem. I have to admit, I wasn’t always sure that was going to happen.”

  Trem gave him a hug so strong it felt like his head would pop off. “I knew you were going to come. I knew it. Like I know we’re going to get out of this terrible place, and we’ll make that stupid Nell pay for his crimes . . . with his life. You’ll see.”

  Burr leaned back against the cell wall. “I admire your fierce optimism in the face of overwhelming odds, Lady Trem, but I’m not sure I share it.”

  “Did you hear, Galen? Burr called me a lady. He said I’m like a princess or something. Burr, Iden, Messel . . . we’re all Ruam!”

  “Yes, we are,” said Galen. “I only wish you’d met more of us.”

  **

  Outside the Lingering Death, the pilot of salvage vessel Turba completed a scan of the wreckage of the Ghost Star. “Not much left, is there? Don’t know why we have to bother. There’s not going to be much left of anything after one of those cruiser bolts hits it, especially something as small as this vessel.”

  The salvage chief shrugged. “Regs.”

  “I know it’s regs, I’m just saying it seems like a waste of time.”

  “Tell it to His Lordship.”

  “Yeah, I don’t think so. We done here?”

  “Hold on, there’s something.”

  Floating near a large chunk from the core of the destroyed ship was a scorched ball covered with an iridescent coating.

  The pilot squinted. “What is that?”

  “Dunno. It didn’t show up on the scan. Looks like we found something interesting after all. Grab it with the claws, and we’ll bring it in.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  An armored marine strode confidently into Lockup Center AB-17 and set her weapon on the check-in counter. Her filtered voice crackled through the helmet com. “I’m here to pick up the Ruam prisoners for interrogation.”

  Detention Specialist Menx and the two other detention guards looked up from their workstations. Menx raised an eyebrow. “Name?”

  “Sergeant Wollor. Transfer detachment.”

  Menx frowned and entered a few commands. Scanning the vidscreen, she shook her head. “I don’t have anything here about a prisoner transfer.”

  One of the other guards approached. “Full gear? Kind of overkill, isn’t it?”

  “Normally I work the security detail for Lord Mohk, but I guess they decided to shake things up a bit. I got transferred to you guys.”

  Menx frowned. “You’re not in our database, Wollor. I can’t release any prisoners to someone who’s not registered with our detention unit.”

  “I understand,” said the marine, turning away before turning back. “However, that’s not acceptable.”

  “What?” said Menx, a quizzical expression on her face.

  The marine pulled her weapon off the counter and made some adjustments to the intensity settings. The third guard on the far side of the room slowly reached for his own weapon.

  “I was hoping you’d be more cooperative.”

  Before the third guard’s hand touched the grip of his rifer, the marine drilled him, Menx, and the guard behind her with separate stun charges. All three instantly collapsed.

  The marine shouldered her weapon and punched the pressure key on the cellblock door. “I’ll let myself in.”

  **

  Dur was finishing a light meal in his quarters when his handheld vibrated on the tabletop. He glanced down at the screen and scanned the notification. Slipping the handheld into his pocket, he stood and calmly walked toward the door. Here we go.

  **

  The prison cell was quiet now, and Galen was grateful for that small mercy. None of the others were in the mood to have a conversation anyway. Each of the Ruam had found a place on the wall or the floor to stare at, lost in their own private worlds of sadness and mourning about things that had happened and things that were going to happen. Out of all of them, only Trem appeared to be keeping despair at bay. She sat in the corner with her eyes closed, humming a happy tune. How does she do it? thought Galen. Bouncing as easily as she does between extreme temper tantrums and complete calm?

  The cell door latch slid with a metallic clunk, and the door swung open. An armored marine stood in the hallway and motioned for them to follow. “Let’s go.”

  “Where are you taking us?” said Burr.

  The marine raised a gloved finger to the mouth plate on her visor and headed toward the command center. Galen and the others exchanged glances, then reluctantly followed. When they got to the check-in counter, three unconscious guards lay scattered across the room.

  Burr crossed his arms. “Before we go any farther, I must insist you tell us what’s going on here.”

  The marine lifted her visor. “I’m rescuing you, and they were . . . uncooperative.”

  Galen couldn’t believe his eyes. “Eria!”

  “That’s me. All right, listen up. We’re taking the long and quiet way to a launch hangar where I’ve located an escape vessel. Grab the rifers and follow me.”

  “I’ve got a better idea,” said a voice from behind Eria.

  It was Mohk’s toady, Dur, and a squad of marines who had their weapons pointed at Eria.

  “Leave the rifers where they are and go back to your cell.”

  A tense moment passed before Eria slammed down her visor and opened fire on the marines, dropping one of them and winging another with her first two shots. Galen and the others all dove for the floor when the marines returned fire. Eria was knocked several steps back by the impact of high-velocity bolts, but the thick armor of her battle suit held.

  “Run!” she barked, jerking her head in the direction of the passageway directly behind them.

  Galen grabbed a rifer off one of the unconscious guards, scooped up Trem, and bolted down the narrow hall.

  “Put me down, Galen. I want to fight them,” said Trem.

  “Not now. We’ve got to get out of here.”

  Galen glanced over his shoulder. Messel and Iden were right behind him, both having grabbed a rifer. Burr was crouched behind Eria with his hands on her belt, guiding her backward as she poured round after round of boltfire back into the room. He could hear his aunt grunt with each impact of return fire from the Imps.

  “Who is she?” asked Trem.

  “Our aunt. Dad’s sister.”

  “We have an aunt?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I want to be like her when I get older!”

  “You could do a whole lot worse.”

  “What’s that mean?”

  “It means she’s awesome.”

  “There! That way!” said Messel, pointing to a secondary passageway crossing the one they were in.

  Galen carried Trem around the corner and set her down, lifting his rifer in the direction of the main passageway as Messel and Iden rounded it, too. A blink later, Burr and Eria joined them.

  “Armor or not,” said Eria, breathing heavily as she collapsed against the smaller wall of the passageway. “Those bolts hurt.” She took a deep breath before tapping the small screen on her forearm, entering some commands, then detaching the device and handing it to Burr. “Here. Follow the route I marked. It’ll take you to a small launch hangar.”

  “What’s in there?” asked Galen.

  “O
ur way out,” Eria said.

  Burr glanced at the handheld. “Right.”

  A bolt smashed into the far wall of the passage, covering them all with dust and small fragments of plasteel. Eria thrust her rifer around the corner and fired off a dozen rounds, one of which must have hit, since a shout of pain reached their ears.

  “I’ll hold them off for a bit to give you a head start. Now go.” Another bolt hit a nearby bulkhead and ricocheted into Eria’s breastplate, causing her to gasp. “Go!”

  Burr motioned for them to move. “Quickly.”

  Galen and the others moved down the passageway reluctantly at first, but with increasing urgency as the exchange of boltfire increased in intensity.

  Trem repeatedly looked back, a worried expression on her face. “Is Aunt Eria going to be all right?”

  “She’ll be fine,” said Galen as convincingly as he could.

  “Yeah, because she’s awesome.”

  **

  A few moments later, they were at the entrance of a small hangar.

  Burr glanced at the handheld and urged them forward. “This is it.”

  The passageway behind them erupted in a hail of boltfire. Eria charged around the corner, wildly firing back at her unseen pursuers. “Get inside and shut the door!”

  Galen pulled Trem into the hangar while Iden and Messel knelt down inside the doorway, their rifers raised.

  Burr entered commands into the handheld at a furious rate, becoming increasingly frustrated when nothing happened. “Come on now. Close!”

  A large number of Imp marines rounded the corner, their rifers blazing. Galen watched as Iden and Messel dropped to prone positions and returned fire with calm precision, taking out a surprising number of the charging troops.

  While only a few paces from the doorway, Eria dropped and slid on her side into the hangar. “Close the door, Burr!”

  “I’m trying!” said Burr, repeatedly stabbing the handheld with his finger.

  As the Imps drew closer, Galen happened to glance to his right. Positioned directly in front of him was a large red palm button. Without hesitating, he punched it, and the heavy emergency door slammed shut in half a blink. The others stared at him. “The closing button thing was right in front of me, so I . . . just trying to help.”

 

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