Xander

by Vivienne Savage

  After Ethan threw his weight around, they were permitted into the planetary atmosphere and directed to a landing space outside the town.

  The plan was to allow Xander to go down and reconnect with his former comrade while Ethan coordinated with the planet’s governor and council. He wanted them prepared in the event of a pirate attack, since Kantarn had all the qualities of the other colonies that had gone dark already: secluded, small, and connected to the cybernetics trade.

  “Well, don’t you clean up nice,” Thandie commented as she neatly knotted Xander’s tie. She smoothed her fingers down his chest and smiled up at him. “You look good in the dress uniform.”

  “Thanks. Where’d you learn to do this?”

  “My dad,” she replied. “He wore a tie every day and I was fascinated. He always told me I didn’t need to learn it, since women on my planet are only allowed to wear dresses.”

  “I’ve never visited Tallulah. Really? Dresses all the time?”

  “Really,” she confirmed with a big grin on her face. “I guess that’s why I always wear pants and boots to shore leave. Makes me feel like a rebel.”

  “True rebels wear lace lingerie. Just thought I should tell you.”

  Thandie swatted him playfully and leaned up for a kiss. “I hope everything is okay with your friend.”

  “Me too.”

  Xander exited the ship’s airlock and descended the ramp into a village occupied by antisocial townsfolk. They hurried away and avoided him, parting like the Red Sea.

  “Hello? Excuse me, young miss?” A woman reluctantly paused and spared him a glance. Xander continued gratefully. “I’d like directions to Doctor Campbell’s facilities.”

  After she gave directions, Xander made the mile walk across the township toward the colonial medical center. Its stylish exterior conflicted with the rest of the modest town.

  Campbell must have put some of his own money into the center, the man known for random acts of kindness. Smiling, Xander strode inside the pristine lobby and up to reception.

  “Good afternoon, I’m Doctor Xander Vargas. Please let Doctor Campbell know I’ve arrived.”

  “Do you have an appointment?”

  “No, but I’m an old friend. He asked me to drop by whenever I was in the sector, so here I am.”

  The woman skimmed her fingertips over a floating hologram pad. The thin glass glowed orange beneath her touch. “Doctor Campbell is currently in a delicate procedure.”

  The hairs on the back of his neck prickled. “I’ll wait.”

  Xander sat in a chair nearby and became embroiled in a bitter staring contest that lasted for a half hour before the receptionist caved and tapped a few buttons on her monitor.

  “Doctor Campbell, you have an eager visitor from the Royal Navy here to see you at your earliest convenience.” She paused, presumably to listen to Campbell respond from the other end of the link. “He claims to be Doctor Xander Vargas. Yes, I will inform him.”

  Xander pretended to hold interest in the news feed scrolling across the wall instead of jumping to his feet.

  “Doctor Campbell will be out shortly,” the receptionist relayed with a cool smile on her plastic face. Everything from the flawless arch of her immaculate eyebrows to her sculpted chin and nose advertised Campbell’s work. He’d always had a fantastic talent for reconstructive and cosmetic surgery, which he’d put to work on scarred marines.

  “Thank you.”

  At ease again, Xander settled back until loud footsteps announced his friend’s arrival. Doctor Campbell had always been a heavy man, but his time out of the Navy had added weight to his already bulky frame, especially around his middle.

  “Xander, you should have called ahead,” he said, offering his hand. Perspiration dotted his brow along his hairline.

  “I did. Or I tried, anyway.” Xander put on a smile and shook Mathias’s hand. “Since we passed this way along our route to the next port, I wanted to stop in and say hello, as you asked.” He added a touch of passive-aggressive emphasis to get his point across.

  “So I did…” his voice trailed off and he cleared his throat. “I wish I could show you around, Xan, I really do.”

  “The Jemison will be here a day, at least. I can return tomorrow if that’s better. I’m really looking forward to seeing your work.”

  “I’m afraid that won’t be possible.”

  Xander frowned. “Anything I can do to help take the load off while I’m here, Mathias?”

  “That’s kind, but unnecessary. The fact is, I’m heading off to the neighboring colonies tomorrow to see private clients, so I really do need to get back to my packing. Don’t want to forget anything.”

  “Do you need a hand?”

  “No, no. I have it covered, thanks. Next time, all right, chap?”

  “Next time,” Xander agreed, cheeks aching from the stiff smile he forced himself to maintain.

  “I tell you, it was dodgy.” Xander shrugged out of his jacket and tossed it over Ethan’s chair. “The whole place gave me the fucking creeps.”

  “Lieutenant Shahid stepped off ship for a time and returned with some troubling observations.” Ethan rubbed his chin. “Lockhart, too.”

  If the two most powerful psychics on the ship had the same vibes, then something was amiss.

  “Something’s not right, Ethan. Campbell has always had a bad poker face and that hasn’t changed. I had the distinct impression he was hiding something. We aren’t wanted here, and my war buddy asked me to leave. He had no interest in showing me his greatest life’s work, when half a year ago he couldn’t wait for me to see.”

  “So what are you asking?”

  “Send a small team back in with me.”

  “Granted. If they don’t want us here, they’ll just have to sod off and accept that we’re the ones with the firearms.”

  Ethan typically believed in allowing colonies to handle their own affairs. For him to take such a heavy-handed approach could mean only a single thing.

  “I take it the governor blew you off, eh?”

  “Fucker told me to mind my own business.”

  Xander barked out a laugh. “I wish I’d been there to see it.”

  “As there is a true possibility of danger, I’ve contacted United Command and received authority from Admiral Novak to take prompt action. In case this goes tits up, I wanted our arses covered.”

  “Fair enough. I’ll grab Viljoen and tell him to assemble the team.”

  “Excellent.”

  In less than an hour, the assault team was assembled onboard the shuttle and on their way to the hospital landing pad while Ethan went to make a diplomatic connection with the planet’s governing body. Xander checked his weapon and gave everyone a quick brief on the lobby layout.

  “This is a medical center. I don’t want a single civilian casualty once we’re inside. Watch your aim and use non-lethal rounds unless otherwise ordered.”

  “Sir, I’m getting a warning from the center denying us landing privileges,” Lopez called from the front. After the events on Athena, he’d taken Rogers’s place as pilot, then Gareth had volunteered to fill the gap as the team communications expert.

  Viljoen snorted. “Land anyway. We have United Command behind us on this.”

  “Got it.”

  The shuttle doors opened before they touched down and Thandie took up her usual position, her rifle at the ready. She scanned the area with her eagle vision then gave the all clear when no one came out to challenge them.

  “All right team, move out.” Viljoen stepped onto the ground first. “DuPrie, when we get inside I want you to monitor the main entrance. Ears open. I’m sure they’ll have some things to say.”

  “Yes, sir.” She went camo and moved alongside them.

  Inside, the same receptionist greeted them with a phony smile. “I’m afraid Doctor Campbell is—”

  “We aren’t here to see him,” Xander cut her off, stepping up to the desk. “This is a matter of military business now.
Buzz us in.”

  “I can’t—”

  “We won’t tell you again.”

  Her pale gaze darted to the various weapons, then she tapped a button and the security doors flashed green. Three guards met them halfway down the hall.

  “Gentlemen, stand down.” Viljoen grinned at the men. “Unless you want a piece of this for obstructing justice, move out of our way.”

  Part of Xander hoped they’d put up a fight. They backed down, instead, sending one another uncertain glances and communicating with their eyes. He had a bad feeling, and it was echoed by Gareth when they turned into the next corridor.

  “Something doesn’t feel right here, Commander.”

  “What do you mean, Lockhart?” Viljoen asked in a low tone.

  “I can’t put a finger to it. It’s just like… everyone in the village is hiding something.” Gareth shook his head and cast a wary glance around the sterile interior. “And… the background noise is excessive. Too much of it for so small a place and what they have listed on their patient registry.” He raised both hands to his temples and shut his watery eyes, clearly afflicted with one of his migraines.

  Xander touched him on the shoulder. “We’ll keep an eye out. Are you going to be okay here?”

  “I’m fine, Doc. Which way is his office?”

  Xander gestured down the hall. “It should be down this way. He always liked to be back by the labs.”

  “You didn’t meet him in his office before?” Thandie asked.

  “No, and that was another tip off. He made me wait in the lobby and came out to me.”

  Six rooms lined the hall, but Xander spotted a sleeping patient in only one of them. Nothing indicated any surgical or time-consuming procedures had recently taken place.

  “Hold up a minute. It’s this way.” Gareth stopped by a door marked as a restricted area. “I know the office is down the hall, but… this ominous feeling, it’s coming through here.”

  Viljoen led the squad through the door and down a single staircase that emptied into a green-lit corridor. They passed a room housing a mechanical rig as lavish as Xander’s surgical theater on the ship.

  “There’s blood on the floor,” Thandie muttered, moving ahead.

  “Kruger!” Viljoen knocked the smaller marine to the floor and threw up his arm to block the security laser aimed at her back. The beam cut through his armor and seared his skin, filling the hall with the smell of burning hair and skin. Thandie rolled to her back on the floor and took out the machinery with two well-placed shots.

  “Are you okay?” Xander asked quietly while helping Thandie up from the floor. His heart galloped in his chest with the force of a stampeding herd of wargs. Her appreciative smile eased the anxiety and instinctive urge to sweep her protectively into his arms.

  “I’m okay. Commander Viljoen took the hit.” Her gold eyes flicked toward the commander. She winced. A distinct line had been cut through his forearm vambrace.

  “Here, let me look.” Fairchild moved to the injured commander’s side and inspected the wound. “It’s not deep and it’s cauterized, at least. Nothing a little nanogel can’t cure.”

  “Can we expect more tricks like this?” Thandie asked, supporting Viljoen’s arm while Fairchild wrapped the injury. “Thank you, Commander.” He grunted something unintelligible.

  Gareth searched the wall for an access panel and hooked his computer in. He studied the projected holographic screen beamed from his wrist device. “It was operated remotely. Someone clearly doesn’t want us snooping around.”

  “Obviously,” Viljoen muttered.

  “I can try and hack into the system,” Gareth offered. “If we’re lucky, I can gain all remote control, or at least lock out any other consoles like this.”

  Xander’s fingers tightened into a fist at his side. “Do it.”

  They lurked behind him in the chilly hall while Gareth toiled at the device. A few seconds later, a series of gentle clicks echoed down the hall.

  “Done. I’ve disabled all the doors and security. There shouldn’t be another surprise like this. The room at the end is the only one in use.”

  Viljoen stormed ahead. “Let’s go say hello, then.”

  Frosted glass on the door blocked their view of the room within. Viljoen put his hand on the knob, made a silent count to three then slammed the portal open. Chang, gun out and extended, rushed through first with Abernathy a step behind him. Viljoen followed with the rest of the marines and then Xander and his medics.

  “Oh my god…” The nightmarish scene scorched itself into his mind and turned his stomach.

  It wasn’t a medical laboratory; it was a chop shop. Fairchild turned green in the face and Gareth backed out of the room entirely. As a psychic, the pain must have been excruciating for him to feel.

  A cold corpse lay on the examination table. The young man, barely out of his teens, showed extensive cybernetic modification, but most of the components had been removed, leaving yawning holes in their place. A shallow pan of pink-tinged solution lay to the side of the corpse on a metal tray, filled with gore-covered cybernetics. Three more bodies were laid out on tables at the back of the room, connected to life-support machines.

  Mathias Campbell stripped off his bloody gloves and discarded them into a bin. Wise enough to understand the gravity of the situation, and that his guards wouldn’t be coming to his aid, he stepped away from the table with his hands raised in a gesture of surrender.

  “Xander, I wish you had listened. You should have gone.”

  He didn’t think, he acted. Xander crossed the room and caught Campbell across the face with his fist. Cartilage cracked and blood splattered from the man’s hooked nose.

  “You were supposed to help people. You took an oath to do no harm!” Xander raged, punctuating the harsh words by striking Campbell in the mouth. The force cracked a tooth and scraped Xander’s knuckles, but twice wasn’t enough, and he quickly had to follow suit with a third. No amount of physical violence seemed large enough to wipe away Campbell’s evil.

  The other marines stood back and said nothing.

  “What do you have to say for yourself?” Xander demanded. “Why would you do this to your own patients? To anyone? Answer me!” He slammed his fist into Campbell’s mouth again then shook the heavyset doctor—no, the monster. A doctor was a person who healed; Xander held a killer in his hands.

  “It all seemed so right. The research will save countless lives. You don’t understand, Xander. They have power. They promised to help us—”

  “How in the bloody fuck is this help!?” Xander raised his fist but the other man shrank back and screamed.

  “Don’t hit me again, no wait, wait! I can give you information. I can tell you anything.”

  “You’re going to do that anyway, whether you want to or not,” Gareth spoke up quietly from the doorway. “You pathetic bastard.”

  “They brought research and medical necessities that we needed. We were forgotten by the UNE and left on our own here! Your government abandoned us.”

  “Of course they brought medical research, they experimented on innocent civilians.”

  “I didn’t know… I didn’t know, Xander. Please. You must believe me.” Campbell sagged in Xander’s powerful grip. Bloodied spittle trickled from his mouth. “They brought prisoners at first. Murderers. I thought… I was doing what we talked about! I thought we would make new discoveries to advance science. To help people with debilitating brain injuries.”

  “And then what happened?” Thandie asked. She pointed toward the young man on the table. “He doesn’t look like a murderer or a prisoner to me.”

  “They blackmailed me. I didn’t have a choice! I would have lost my license if I didn’t continue.”

  Xander shook him again. “That’s your excuse? Nothing justifies this depravity. Who’s this mysterious they, Campbell?”

  “They’re close—” Campbell’s facial muscles tightened and twitched. He arched his back and stiffened without warni
ng.

  “Campbell?”

  “Oh, shit,” Viljoen swore.

  The man didn’t respond. A shake began over one side of his body and then the convulsion gradually spread. The doctor collapsed to the floor and seized, his arms locked against his body until he finally stilled.

  Thandie touched Xander’s arm and wordlessly drew him back. His limbs shook, indignation and fury taking firm hold.

  He squeezed her hand to signal he was all right, and then he knelt beside the corpse to run his bioscanner over Campbell’s head. “Someone cooked his brain remotely.”

  The hydraulic laboratory door sealed shut with a sudden slam, its lock clicking into place. Above them, small nozzles that resembled a fire extinguishing system began to emit a barely audible hiss.

  “Masks!” Fairchild called the warning, prompting them all to don their rebreather masks.

  “DuPrie. What’s happening?” Viljoen asked over the comm.

  “I killed the receptionist. She began punching a bunch of buttons at her desk. I believe she fried your friend’s noggin and sealed you in.”

  Xander swore. Wherever his skin was bare and uncovered by his suit, he felt heat and warmth. “What about the guards?”

  “I had to put them down, too. What do I do?” Panic filled her voice. “Christ, I can see you on her monitor. What’s happening in there?”

  “She’s gassing the room. Can you unlock the doors?”

  “This is a little foreign to me, but I’ll try.”

  As precious seconds ticked by, the gas flow picked up at an exponential speed, flooding the room until a heavy, burning cloud filled the air.

  “I can’t find anything!” DuPrie cried.

  “Goddammit.” Viljoen turned to Gareth. “Lockhart, can’t you do anything?”

  “I’m trying!” Gareth found the nearest console and jacked in with his personal rig. A brilliant green user interface expanded to surround him, alive with flashing symbols and numbers.

  Clueless about hacking and overrides, Xander stood by as helplessly as the others.