The Santana Nexus (Junkyard Dogs Book 3)

by Nolte, Phillip

  Two men, under the eyes of two additional guards who kept her covered with pulse pistols, roughly untied Carlisle from the chair in the interrogation room and subjected her to a lengthy sojourn that had them take an elevator inwards to the spindle. From the spindle elevator they took her down a curved corridor a short distance to a prep room. Here Carlisle was instructed to put on a skintight competition suit. To protect her modesty they allowed her to change clothing behind a flimsy screen.

  As she came out from behind the screen, she looked around the area they had brought her to and saw her gear, including the clothes she had just removed and her wrist computer, piled carelessly up on a table in the corner. She took as much time as she dared with her preparations but she knew she could only stall for so long. Their patience exhausted, the Sheik's guards retied her wrists and escorted her out of the compartment.

  Chapter 56.

  Military spaceship docking area near the Santana Nexus Station, onboard MIS Nasr, January 13, 2599.

  After all of the infiltrators that Nasr had been carrying had been transferred to the station, Captain Bishara and his men continued to play the role of a ship on a mission to take supplies and repair parts back to the damaged ships of his squadron. The destroyer's next task was to get back to the hyperlink zone and join up with the combined forces from the Scrapyard in an all-out attack on the Hercules. While the Captain and crew were waiting as patiently as they could for the proper timing, they actually did load up food and medical supplies. Finally, with the time for the rendezvous approaching, the Nasr microjumped towards the Whitney transfer zone. The ship phased out of the transfer a scant thirty minutes from the zone and the Sheik's mighty Jasmine cruiser.

  ***

  Santana Nexus System, Whitney hyperlink zone, January 13, 2599.

  With the Nasr still some twenty minutes from the rendezvous, an awkward looking ship accompanied by a freighter came through the Santana system's Whitney Hyperlink point. The acting Captain of the Hercules immediately challenged them.

  "Unknown ships identify yourselves or be fired upon."

  "This is Ni-Trans freighter City of Darwin with a load of food and other supplies for the Nexus station, came the response to the challenge. My companion is the Patagonian freighter Foul Beastie. She's got repair parts on board for some ships that are stuck out in the Oneida System. We are to meet up with the Meridian ship Nasr."

  "Foul Beastie?"

  "That is correct. You can see how she got her name."

  "She is rather unpretty," came the response. "Hold steady while we check your registrations."

  There was an interval of several minutes while the Hercules checked on the two new ships.

  "We have you, City of Darwin but we can find nothing on any Patagonian ship called 'Foul Beastie.'"

  "That's no surprise. She probably hasn't been registered yet. The Patagonians slapped her together from several worn out ships that were abandoned in their system. She seems to work okay but have you ever seen an uglier ship?"

  "I must admit that I have not but that is not important. Both of you will submit to boarding and inspection before you can be cleared to go in the Nexus Station."

  "We will cooperate in any way that we need to," came the reply, "We're just here to do business."

  The two ships remained in place while a contingent from the Hercules made preparations to inspect them.

  Meanwhile, the Nasr was now a scant ten minutes away.

  ***

  Santana Nexus Station, somewhere in the tenth ring hub, January 13, 2599.

  Carlisle was shoved roughly up against the wall of the corridor, face first. She recognized where she was, the door in front of her was one of the entrances to the weightless gymnastics arena. One of her captors kept his pulse pistol trained on her while the other undid the bindings that held her wrists together before backing away from her, finally leaving her with her hands free. They had removed her bindings only long enough for her to change into the sleek competition body suit before retying her wrists. Outside of that five-minute interval, her wrists had been bound since she had been rendered unconscious. She couldn't be certain but it had to have been at least a couple of hours.

  Carlisle massaged her wrists and forearms in an attempt to get some feeling back. The guard who had removed her bindings tied a short tether around her waist before opening the door and roughly shoving Carlisle through the opening and out into the arena before closing and securing the hatch behind her. She used the short tether to pull herself back to the now closed door.

  This was the same arena that Carlisle had performed some practice routines and helped a couple of younger girls with some basic gymnastics moves during her previous visit to the Nexus station, an event that now seemed a lifetime ago. A hatch on the other side of the nearly cubical arena opened up. Through the opening and into the arena came another...contestant?

  It was Fahada! Carlisle felt her heart rate speed up.

  ***

  Santana Nexus Station, somewhere on the tenth ring, January 13, 2599.

  The Sheik of Barsoom was meeting with delegates from all over the Quadrant. The conference was taking place within one of the large meeting theatres that had been used by the Federation Navy on the first level of the tenth ring. The Captain of the Hercules was in the middle of making an unexpected and rather poorly received plea that he was better suited to the leadership of the Revolution than the Sheik of Barsoom.

  "I am from one of the leading families on Jasmine. We can trace a direct line back to Emperor Haji himself! It is I who should be leading this revolution!"

  He sat down as a chorus of murmurs went through the rather large audience.

  The Sheik got up out of his chair and drew himself to his full height. His large presence and his full beard and shoulder-length hair made him a most imposing figure. In addition to his impressive physical appearance he had other significant command attributes. Perhaps it was due to a lifetime of being deferred to by others but the old man simply had an aura of authority about him.

  "I believe that we can settle this matter once and for all." The room became silent. "I hear the arguments of my distinguished rival and am forced to agree that he makes a few salient points. Whoever we place on the throne of Jasmine and the new Islamic monarchy must have the proper family history. While I am impressed by my rival's pedigree, I am afraid that there is indeed someone whose family connections are much closer to the old emperor than his are."

  He paused for effect.

  "Gentlemen, I feel the time has come for me to make an announcement."

  The room was totally silent as the Sheik's audience waited expectantly for his revelation.

  "I have been keeping this secret for a good many years but now but with our Revolution off to a glorious start, the time has come for me to reveal myself."

  He paused again.

  "You all know me as the Sheik of Barsoom but I think the time is right for you all to know me by my true name. I am Prince Merrikh of Jasmine, only son of the holy emperor Hadj and true heir to his throne!"

  The silence in the room was broken with a storm of noise. Snippets of incredulous conversation filled the camber.

  "Prince Merrikh, surely he was killed in the War...."

  "How can this be..."

  "Yes, I can see it now, there is a resemblance..."

  "Gentlemen please!" shouted Barsoom.

  The mutterings subsided and the Sheik/Prince continued, "I escaped the final battle of the Succession War on a damaged ship that left the system just before the last stages of that battle were fought. I have been living as the Sheik of Barsoom for all of the years between then and now. Only now do I feel that it is the proper time to reveal myself."

  There was a heated discussion that Prince allowed to go on for a good ten minutes as various members of the audience asked questions and got answers. Finally the Prince ended the discussion.

  "We can continue this later, right now my top operative has arranged an entertainme
nt for us. Please, everyone have a seat."

  Everyone sat down and the room became quiet again. On the front wall of the theatre, a curtain drew back, revealing a large tri-D viewing screen. An image appeared on the screen. The audience recognized a weightless gymnastics arena.

  "Many of you know my top operative, Fahada. Today, in honor of my ascendency, we have arranged an execution."

  The camera view changed to Fahada's opponent, a small woman in a silvery, skin tight competition outfit. The women looked fiercely into the camera. Her green eyes were remarkably intense and she sported a heathen-spawned Spacer clan tattoo on her left cheek.

  "This woman is guilty of a number of crimes against our Glorious Revolution and I have decreed that she must die for those crimes. My trusted operative Fahada has agreed to be her executioner but we also thought that a contest to show off Fahada's considerable abilities would provide an entertainment for all of you and set an example for all of those who would oppose us. Let the game begin!"

  Chapter 57.

  Santana Nexus Station, weightless gymnastics arena, January 13, 2599.

  Back in the weightless arena Carlisle heard a voice over the intercom.

  "Look behind you and you will find a weapon and two retractable tethers attached to the hatch door. Arm yourself and prepare to do battle!"

  Carlisle turned around and saw a small bag taped to the hatch door. Inside she found two standard retractable tethers and a knife. The tethers were of an older design and were a bit more massive than the ones she was used to but they would do. A quick inspection of the knife revealed that it was a dull practice weapon, the sort that was used to train for weightless combat. The knife had a thin loop of meta-kevlar cable attached to it through a hole in the end of the handle. The cable was used to hold the weapon loosely around the user's wrist and would keep the knife from floating free if she should lose her grip on it. She slipped the loop over her right wrist and secured one of the cuffs of the two tethers to each of her wrists before removing the cord that had been tied around her waist.

  Crouching against the wall of the arena, next to the door she had been pushed through, she attempted to take stock of her condition. With her head still a little muzzy from the stun rod strike, she was about as unprepared as she could be for whatever was happening next. As she looked around the arena and turned to face her opponent she was struck by an overwhelming sense of déjà vu, immediately followed by a bolt of pure panic.

  This was the damned dream that had been haunting her!

  Only this time it was real! She was facing the Sheik of Barsoom's female killer in single combat!

  She could see that Fahada also was equipped with two tethers and...something else. Carlisle recognized the handle of a quantum knife! Rather than a practice blade, her opponent was armed with a real weapon! A very deadly one, in fact. So this was to be their "contest," a virtually unarmed victim against a trained killer who probably didn't even need the quantum knife. Carlisle shook her head.

  If anything, this was even worse than the dream!

  She fought the feeling down and steeled herself for the fight to come. Fahada had said that this was to be public contest. With almost everyone watching this "gladiator show" Carlisle had no choice, she would simply have to try and last as long as she could. If she could keep the Sheik and his forces distracted, her companions would have that much more time to follow through with their plans for liberating the Station without the enemy interfering.

  She double checked the cuffs of the tethers secured to each wrist. She had the practice knife, with the safety thong looped around her wrist, grasped in her right hand. She knew she was far from ready to go into combat but also knew she had little choice. The few preparations she could make to do so were inadequate but they would have to suffice.

  "I told you we would meet again, my little Spacer killer!" Fahada called loudly across the arena. "This time you die!"

  Carlisle said nothing. Instead, using the rapidly depleting time she had remaining, she began to subtly perform some basic stretching and warming up exercises as well as she could managed while clinging to the wall of the arena. The ribs that had been injured during her earlier fight with Fahada were stiff and she knew that any sort of sudden or extreme movement might re-aggravate the old injury. She gritted her teeth against the pain and forced the tender area to fully extend for the first time since she had suffered the injury. Then she forced herself to do it again. Time was running critically short. These meager preparations would have to be enough.

  Fahada noticed the activity. "Yes, my little Spacer, get yourself ready to die!" With that, Fahada coiled her legs up underneath her and launched out into the arena, directly at Carlisle. Carlisle waited until her adversary was only about five meters away before she launched herself off in a different direction. Fahada showed the extreme level of her weightless fighting skills by deploying one of her tethers and utilizing a tug on it to bring her close enough to take a slash at Carlisle as the Ensign went off in her own direction. The tactic came perilously close to working. The quantum knife nicked Carlisle's calf just above the ankle. She felt a sharp pain and immediately noticed that the wicked slash had left a gash that penetrated the suit and her skin.

  The wound began to ooze blood. As she sailed towards the opposite wall of the arena, she flexed the leg and ankle experimentally and discovered that the wound seemed to be, thank goodness, only superficial. In a flash, Carlisle realized that her opponent didn't know that. Maybe she could use the minor injury to her advantage. She deliberately caught most of her mass on her uninjured leg when she reached the opposite wall of the arena and made what she hoped was a convincing act of wincing in pain as she absorbed only a portion of the shock with the newly injured leg. Let Fahada think she was badly hurt, perhaps the assassin would get overconfident and make a mistake!

  The two adversaries faced each other across the arena again, this time from the opposite sides of where they had started.

  Chapter 58.

  Santana Nexus System, Whitney hyperlink zone, January 13, 2599.

  The Nasr had arrived at the hyperlink zone and was maneuvering towards the Beastie with the supposed goal of transferring repair parts. The cutter from the Hercules, with the inspection crew onboard, was about halfway between the cruiser and the masquerading Federation ships. At that moment, the Asimov and the Perseus flashed in through the hyperlink zone. Before the Hercules could hail them, the Nasr fired two pulses from her main battery at the cruiser. The bolts were specifically targeted at the top portion of the cruiser's bridge, where the long-range dish antennae for the Stage I and Stage II communicators were mounted. At such extremely close range, Nasr's gunners couldn't miss. In less than a heartbeat, the cruiser's two communications dishes were gone and Hercules could no longer contact the Nexus Station!

  The temporary commanding officer of the Hercules, suddenly realizing that he was not only under attack but that he was badly outnumbered as well, began barking orders.

  "Engineering? Get those shields up, now!" he shouted. Through the front viewscreen he could see that strange, unlovely ship coming straight for him. The odd-looking ship was in the process of sprouting an extremely formidable-looking front turret! In addition to this strange ship with unknown capabilities, he was also facing three destroyers!

  Onboard the Hercules, one of her two reactors was currently dedicated to maintaining basic ship operations, while the output from the other was being channeled to the mysterious module in the front hold of the ship, the module that maintained the lock on transfers to and from the Sol-Terra Quadrant. If power was interrupted to the device, the Santana Quadrant would be open to invasion by the full force of the Federation Navy!

  The temporary commander of the Sheik's cruiser began to taste fear!

  The mighty Hercules was suddenly faced with a nearly impossible task! She had only one reactor to operate everything, including shields and weapons, against a simultaneous attack by four enemy ships! At point blank range!
Given this handicap and knowing how rusty his crew was, the temporary Captain did not like his odds. His engineering crew managed to get the shields up just as the gun crews on the two newly-translated destroyers opened fire on her. A moment later they were joined by the guns from the Nasr.

  The shields on the Hercules lit up from the impact of multiple pulse beam strikes stabbing repeatedly at her from several different directions. There were so many targets that the gunners on the cruiser were totally confused as to which of them to fire upon first! They weren’t helped by the fact that the command staff had also been taken totally by surprise and were every bit as confused as they were! The gun captain in the front battery of the Hercules elected to fire at the Beastie since she was the largest of the potential targets.

  Two pulse beams lashed out and struck the prototype cruiser. The Beastie's force shields, totally untested until now, proved to be up to the task. The shield flared to a bright violet hue before beginning to immediately dim back down.

  "Shield status?" shouted Helmsford, from the bridge of the Beastie.

  "Shields are...holding at eighty-five percent!" replied Harris, who had replaced Frank Talbot down in engineering, "This is one stout little ship!"

  "Keep me informed if there is any change," said Helmsford.

  Seeing that the impact from her main battery seemed to have had virtually no effect on the odd-looking vessel, the gun crew on the Hercules couldn't decide to fire at her again or choose a different target.

  The hesitation was to prove fatal.

  "Target the front main battery, boys," shouted Helmsford, "Maximum rate of fire! Let's pull her teeth! Fire when ready!"

  "Firing both main battery projectors, maximum rate of fire!" echoed Conrad Lieber, the gun captain. He pressed the firing stud and held it down.

  The unconventional weapon, operating at full capacity, spewed a horrendous, rapid-fire barrage of six-thousand gigajoule pulse bolts at the stationary cruiser.