Border Worlds (United Star Systems Book 1)

by J Malcolm Patrick

  “Let’s go, Flaps.”

  They both broke into a steady run and headed for the location of the Commander’s personnel device. Overhead, air rescue cars streamed towards the way they’d come. A constant sonic boom filled the air as atmospheric fighters patrolled the sky. About a hundred meters from the signal, Lee called for Miroslav to stop.

  “What is it?”

  “The signal is coming from inside that building just ahead.”

  The building was largely rectangular—perhaps a sort of storage site. This definitely wasn’t a residential or research zone. Several security devices were in place outside of the building, but Lee was certain these unscrupulous individuals didn’t have the dampening field frequency to bypass it. Those devices, like any other electronics, should be useless.

  If they did, this was going to be one short rescue attempt.

  “Flaps, I need you to wait here. If I don’t come out within ten minutes, you need to make contact with Shepherd somehow. Inform him of everything that’s happened up to now. Where you last saw me and what we were doing. Can I count on you, kid?”

  “Yeah, Lee.” Miroslav said. “You sure I can’t help you in there?”

  “I wouldn’t say you couldn’t help me, Flaps. But I do feel there’s a great risk one or both of us might not make it out and it’s important Shepherd knows what’s happened up to this point.”

  “I understand. You can count on me.”

  They nodded to each other and Lee dashed towards his commander’s prison, and likely casket. On reaching near, he swung left and through a service alley for a building directly opposite. All the buildings in this district were similar in appearance. As with any other tech-5 world, uniformity was the norm. Each was two stories with a single front entrance, and windows on the upper floor. The Commander’s signal was coming from the second floor. If his captors modified the building on the exterior, then it would lose its camouflage among the others.

  The principal factor, which afforded it the necessary security its occupants desired, was also the ideal exploit. It wasn’t hardened on the exterior—any security measures would be purely internal. Lee aimed the grappler above the building. The targeting computer did the calculations. He held it in place and squeezed the trigger. The gas operated device shot up and the shell around its spike broke off. The tip of the weighted spike penetrated the surface of the top of the building, and several more supporting spikes released and inserted.

  A small readout on his recently “procured” personnel device told him the grappler was firmly in place. Following protocol, Atlas’s security would change the dampening frequencies every hour during an emergency. If some unscrupulous network of nefarious individuals had somehow managed to obtain the frequency prior to the emergency, it would be useless after that. The new frequency would be sent to emergency personnel devices prior to the dampening field frequency change. Even if these goons got the new frequency, they wouldn’t get it right away.

  That meant he had fifteen minutes remaining until the change. He decided then to wait it out. If Aaron’s captors had the frequency after the change, it would reveal more about them and their capabilities.

  It was going to be the longest fifteen minutes of his life.

  ****

  Five minutes after being hustled inside the safe-house, any doubt about these vagabond’s intentions was long gone.

  The illusion of this rescue was finally shattered as they got within the building and herded both he and Rachael to the second floor. They practically dropped the stretcher once inside as if his body didn’t ache enough. Then they yanked him up and grappled Rachael. The restraints went on next. Then he felt a sharp stick in the back of his neck.

  The second floor was as barren as the first. An open space, with a single entry, two chairs in the center, a single light from the overhead and two barred windows on the far wall to the street.

  His hosts roughly sat Rachael and him down. Aaron winced from a shooting pain in his back. He had to bite down hard to stop from yelping. “Who are you really? And what did you put in us?”

  “Just something to ensure you didn’t have any tracking devices lurking anywhere in your body,” Ben said.

  At least he still had his handheld. “You put nanites in me?”

  “Yes they’re designed to find and neutralize any inorganic material—you have none—so they’ll self-destruct. Quite harmless. In case you wondered, the dampening field rendered your personnel device useless. Only rescue personnel will have working devices, and no one’s looking for you, Commander.”

  Aaron glanced over at Rachael to his left. She kept her head straight.

  “Are you ok?” he asked.

  She nodded, but still didn’t look around.

  He turned back to his captor. “You still haven’t told me who you really are, and what you want with us.”

  “I told you who I am. I’m Ben James. What do I want with you? Nothing. Just to stop your meddling. We can’t have you running around with misplaced ideals and continuing any efforts—late as they may be—to disrupt what my associates and I have set in motion.”

  Aaron raised his eyebrows. “What have you really set in motion here, James?”

  Ben James snorted a laugh.

  If a pig could laugh, Aaron felt certain this was how it would sound—a dark and evil pig. This James character’s expression exuded pure contempt—and arrogance. His eyes black as the void, without any kind of feeling behind them.

  “First, Commander, we attacked Imperial and USSF assets along the border. Each side blamed the other, and then you have the separatists in the middle. Our attack here on Atlas has ensured the separatists will be implicated. They will lose all support and there’ll be no fracturing of the United Systems. We’ll be as strong as ever when we launch our assault on the Empire.”

  Aaron snickered and then threw his head back and laughed.

  The buffoon in front of him wasn’t expecting that reaction and clearly looked puzzled. His smug look replaced with a slight frown.

  “False bravado won’t save you,” James said. “Your life is over. We’re waiting on a final confirmation before we expire you.”

  Aaron continued laughing, even if a bit forced.

  This irritated Ben James even more. He clenched his fists tightly at his side. “Stop!” His smugness now completely washed away. “What are you laughing at? Your superiors were right, you definitely are insane.”

  Aaron shook his head.

  “They said that? And I thought they only wrote negative things on my file. In that case it seems only polite I share my joke with you. Who do you really think is going to believe the separatists are responsible for this madness on Atlas? And you think the Empire is going to go to war over unconfirmed and unproven acts of aggression against Imperial assets along the border? The response fleet is posturing at best.” He wasn’t sure he believed that last bit but no need to give this fool the satisfaction. “Anyone with any inkling of intelligence—that obviously excludes you—knows the Empire didn’t become a galactic power by being foolish, rash and quick to self-destruction. If the Empire wanted to start a war after 70 years, they’d execute a definitive pre-emptive strike, which would instantly give them the upper hand.”

  James dropped his frown and slowly returned to his smug expression. “I, nor my associates care what they believe. We will be at war. The USS will fight or die. Elements of the Empire colluded with my associates to bomb Atlas. They jumped at the opportunity. Believing all the while they were working with separatists, and somehow contributing to the destabilization of the Border Worlds. Possibly even a civil war.”

  “I think you were played,” Aaron said. “If you think they believed this attack would be a catalyst to a civil war in the Border Worlds,” he laughed. “This is your grand plan . . . have you people learned nothing from history? Is this what it’s come down to in the twenty-fifth century? Petty people with petty ambitions?”

  Ben scoffed. “A simple mind like yo
urs would never understand the responsibility to ensure the continuity of your way of life. The sacrifices and necessary decisions that great men make to protect our society. The goals of men throughout history have not changed. Only their scale. Men fought to lead Tribes, then Nations. They fought for Continents, then Sol. In this interstellar era, they fought over several planets, and now men wish to control the destinies of all worlds.

  “Seventy years ago the Empire threatened USS ideals, they invaded our space and we fell back. They attacked and occupied countless worlds—brought us to the brink—until a fluke in technological development pulled us back. Now, they carry out raids under the guise of pirates operating inside our borders. They kidnap our citizens and sell them as Imperial Slaves. They subvert and destabilize our border territories, to weaken the USS. All the while, we sit idly by, guided by people with your sense of morality, while our military might slowly erodes. Another generation at this pace and the USS will be weak, fractured and unable to stand against the growing might of the Empire or anyone else. The people are blind to this, you are blind to this, and sadly, you people are the majority. But after today, they will fight for a cause that was destined to come, we’ve just shortened the timeline, and by doing so, we start this fight, while we have the capabilities to win it. It will be arduous and it will be costly, but we will prevail.”

  “You see,” Aaron said, “before I thought you were just misguided. Now I know you’re completely off the deep end. You’re going to ignite an interstellar war because of half-truths, and unconfirmed information on those raids. The USSF has significantly cut those raids by increasing patrols on the frontier. We’re protecting our citizens. In fact, United Star Systems Fleet Intelligence has confirmed in some instances that free lancers are behind the raids, who are seeking opportunity with illegal slave trades. The Empire has a long-standing policy against buying slaves in this manner. Imperial Slaves give themselves into service to pay off debts and for other reasons.”

  Ben James put his hands on Aaron’s shoulders and leaned to look directly into his eyes. “The more you spout, the more apparent it is how the information war was lost long ago. You believe Imperial Slave Traders carry out due diligence on their source of slaves? And you dare to ridicule me? But enough with your ignorance.” Ben James drew a projectile pistol and placed it against Rachael’s temple. “The code to enter your vessel which is landed outside the city, what is it?”

  Aaron swallowed.

  “I’ll give you three seconds,” Ben said.

  Aaron began to fight the restraints. They cut into his wrist area, and although it seemed as if they were loosening, he wasn’t getting anywhere.

  “Two.”

  He rocked his chair back and forth, and finally it fell, he held his head forward to avoid the impact, but at least his back stopped hurting.

  Ben’s comm chirped and went silent. He looked at it and smiled a thin smile. It seemed the executioner had received a pre-arranged signal of his own.

  After the comm signal Rachael raised her head and spoke. “These things are hurting my wrists . . . just shoot him now and take these off me. He won’t give you the code. Threatening me won’t help you. The bastard doesn’t like me. He just hates to lose.”

  Ben James dropped the pistol to his side, stepped forward and released her restraints. She stood and twisted around to face Aaron, standing to the right of Ben James.

  “Rachael?” Aaron asked blinking in disbelief.

  “I would be one of those associates Ben referred to earlier,” she said.

  He dropped his head to the floor and squeezed his eyes shut. The memories of Trident flooded his thoughts. A single tear traced the corner of his eyes and down the side of his cheek and onto the floor.

  Ben knelt next to him.

  “Oh dear,” he said. “I do believe your betrayal has struck a nerve with our cynical Commander Rayne. You have something to ask her, Commander?”

  Aaron looked passed James towards her. “This mission . . . Supreme Commander Shepherd, is he one of you? At least do a faithful Fleet officer one last honor. Tell me, did I help spur this whole thing into motion?”

  “You’ll get no such honor,” Ben said. “Fleet officer or not, you betrayed the USS by compromising it with your weak ideals. All you get is this little metal slug, inside your weak little brain.”

  Ben James stood and stretched his arm toward Aaron.

  “Aaron Rayne, former Commander, USS Trident—traitor to the USS—have you any last words?”

  Aaron opened his eyes.

  Rachael stood behind Ben to his right. Just moments before the world exploded and his eardrums ruptured, the final thing he saw was a sudden movement from Rachael.

  Aaron snickered. “No one lives forever.”

  ****

  The eternity passed.

  Either Lee was supremely fortunate in his timing, or the goon pointing the weapon at Lieutenant Delaine’s head was anticipating some sort of signal. His thermal optics tracked the movement in the room. At the single entrance, two goons stood relaxed, clearly firm in the belief they were safe.

  They were not.

  Lee chuckled to himself as he prepared the pulse pistol. The Commander would definitely call this a plan “w”. Worst plan ever. He set the pulse pistol to overload. It would explode in thirty seconds. He pierced the body of the pistol with the grappler and aimed it through the barred window. He hoped the bar wasn’t military grade, if it was, then this would be plan fail.

  If as he suspected, it was ordinary industrial barring, then the powerful grappler would penetrate. The pulse pistol should be all the distraction he needed to send the goon squad back to goon-ville.

  Permanently.

  The man over Lieutenant Delaine lowered his pistol and stepped forward. Then he reached down. The Lieutenant then stood next to her former captor and faced the Commander. This was an unforeseen turn of events, but he couldn’t dwell on it now. The man had raised his pistol to Aaron who lay motionless on the floor.

  Lee stood on the building ledge, it was the same height as the other building, and his target window was about twenty feet below. He programmed the grappler to fire on a five-foot proximity and aimed it center of the window and ran back.

  Don’t fail me now arm.

  He gathered himself and sprinted for the edge. When he reached within five feet of the grappler, it launched its projectile. He then leaped over the ledge with his arm, and used the elbow mechanism as a catapult off the ledge, launching himself at an angle toward the same window. He had over forty feet to travel. But being rated to lift one ton, he was certain he could propel himself all the way.

  The grappler spike arrived a few moments before him, and blasted through the window, splintering the glass and barreling outward across the room. The pulse pistol skirted across the floor and towards the direction of goon number one and two near the door. It exploded moments prior to his entry.

  He too skated across the floor and towards the far wall feet first, an impact which would break his spine and other important parts. He slammed the arm down into the floor to anchor him and twisted his body to orient the arm to the wall. He stretched the arm, and impacted, allowing the majority of the energy to be absorbed on the elbow recoil.

  He quickly surged to his feet, attempting to draw his projectile weapon, but he’d lost it during his graceful entry.

  Goon one and two were down, but the door burst open and two more attempted entry. He leaped towards the door and hammered it with his battering ram of an arm. The door slammed into the first unfortunate fellow, ringing his bell, who then knocked the other one over. The other one scrambled to meet Lee. Unfortunately, for the goon, he looked up from the floor only in time to receive a hardened leather boot to the chin, followed by a crashing blow from a flesh fist. Curtains for this one.

  Lee snapped up the man’s projectile weapon, and spun on the man who at one time had been standing over Aaron. That man was now raising his pistol with his right arm and clut
ching his temple with his left. The man fired several shots.

  And as predicted he aimed for Lee’s center mass. Lee outstretched his arm in anticipation, which from this angle covered his chest, and the projectiles ricocheted off his palm. Those were the final shots the goon leader would ever fire as Lee raised his weapon and inserted a hole into the man’s forehead.

  Delaine lay on the ground motionless not far from the Commander.

  Lee knelt next to Commander Rayne.

  “I leave you for one day and look at the trouble you get yourself into, sir.”

  Aaron spoke slowly, his head lulled over to look at him.

  “Lee,” he wheezed. “I’m a mess . . . I can’t feel my legs. Something’s wrong with my back. You don’t suppose Max could give me a new one do you?”

  “We’ll fix your back, Commander, even if I have to give you my own. I’m carrying you out of here. Take this.” He handed Aaron the projectile pistol. “Watch my back, and sides, if you can. I’ll try to rouse sleeping beauty over there.”

  Aaron shook his head. “Don’t bother, she’s one of them. As much as I’d like to take her into custody. I don’t think we can manage to get her out in my condition.”

  Lee paused for a moment. One of them? Just didn’t seem right.

  He shrugged. “You’re my priority, not her. Take a deep breath.” He hoisted the Commander over his shoulder and carried him over to the grappler. It was intact. The impact through the window dislodged the pulse pistol and it wasn’t near the exploding weapon.

  Lee heard a ground car beneath them. If logic followed, the ground car could only be Flaps. Since he was certain he got all the goons. He trotted over to the window, leaned out and fired the grappler onto the roof. He held the control grip in his bionic hand. He turned, and sat on the window ledge, extended his arm up, and fell back. Immediately he engaged the reverse function and the grappler lowered the Commander and him slowly to the street below.