The Pathfinder Trilogy

by Todd Stockert

  “So can you,” grinned Thomas in response. He waved his hands, moving them apart in a quick motion across the front of the floating screen in front of him. Everything previously displayed for his perusal promptly vanished and was instantly replaced by the image of a filthy, dark corridor with bodies strewn everywhere. The face of the soldier closest to them was pale and devoid of life – it was obvious that he recently passed away as a result of the multiple injuries clearly visible on his torso.

  “God that place looks nasty,” mused Kaufield. “Is that really what Adam is currently looking at?”

  “Yes,” Thomas nodded affirmatively, his mood turning deadly serious. “I can literally see through his eyes, simply by mentally accessing the proper implant function. Since we’re basically working with an instantaneous Point-to-Point transmission, there is no delay. Both video and audio can also be displayed for you to watch on a real time basis. That’s the part that took some fine tuning. He is currently millions of light years from here, so it’s an understandably tricky process.”

  “What happened to the Crasel vessel Adam signed on with?”

  “While you were away, the ship was boarded and he and many others were captured by another Clan. Those who survived the attack were taken prisoner and thrown in that corridor to live out the trip back or die. Adam has been secretly treating as many injuries as possible, but this project is turning out to be just as dangerous as expected.” Thomas studied him intently. “Even with all of the advantages we’ve given him, there is still risk involved. We’ve sent him into a very brutal war zone.”

  “I sent him,” asserted Kaufield sternly. “And I apologize for my absence, but I had to be fitted with my own implant. Now that we know they work, it made sense to get the procedure done sooner rather than later. As you and Adam learn more about the humanoids in that galaxy, my implant’s database will be updated. If the need arises, I can also take Adam’s place.” He shrugged his shoulders, feeling somewhat helpless. “He has to know that he’s gotten himself into a very tough situation. Mentally, I don’t know how long he can put up with all of this. It was a lot to ask of him and I’m still having second thoughts about the entire matter.”

  “We need to know more about that weapon those clans use against each other in order to destroy stars,” stressed Thomas. “There is only so much Noah’s people can learn from a vantage point this far away by observation. I would prefer it had not been Adam who went, but he volunteered…”

  Kaufield sighed heavily. “His wife doesn’t understand,” he pointed out. “I’ve tried to explain, but she refuses to talk to me. She doesn’t fully understand why Noah’s people couldn’t do this, or why – if it has to be us – should Adam have to be the one in harm’s way.” He threw up his hands helplessly. “Then she turns around and leaves me without even giving me the chance to answer.”

  Thomas thought the matter over silently for a moment. “She’ll listen,” he decided finally. “I’m certain she will. In fact, since we’re still collecting the initial data for the implant upgrades, I really think you should go back and keep trying until she does hear you out. She needs to know why we’re doing this… what’s at stake.”

  “Are you sure?” Kaufield studied the face of his youthful looking friend. “They have two kids…”

  “…Kids who aren’t old enough yet to understand. Talk to her,” suggested Thomas Roh firmly.

  This time it was Dennis who took a moment to carefully consider his colleague’s words. “Okay,” he concluded. “I’ll talk to her later this afternoon, even if she beats the crap out of me.” He smiled wanly.

  “Noah’s team and our people have thoroughly tested this technology,” Thomas reminded him. “Everything works! Adam will be safe, even in a war zone. What he needs right now is support from all of us, even if he doesn’t get her blessing.”

  Nodding in agreement, Kaufield pulled out an empty chair and sat down. “Show me what you can do with these latest upgrades,” he requested eagerly.

  Thomas’ eyes blazed with confidence. “Respectfully, that’s a much better attitude, Captain.”

  Somewhere in the fourth spiral arm of the PGC-2014206 galactic cluster…

  When Adam Roh woke from his light slumber, he was still lying next to Tran Wuu in the darkened ship’s corridor. At some point, power to this section of the enemy vessel that he and his shipmates were imprisoned in had failed completely. There was now virtually no light in the corridor except what shone brightly from the lamps mounted on the helmets of fellow Crasel soldiers. Those who survived were using the helmet lights from their fallen comrades, saving their own power packs for future needs. A few bright beams stabbed through the darkness, lighting the immediate vicinity well enough to see, but the depths of the corridor from in front and behind were now totally drowned in darkness.

  Adam’s thoughts drifted briefly back to the Clan ship he had originally boarded, noting as he rubbed his shoulder that the pain killer he had taken was working. The plan had been for him to discover as much as needed covertly, by serving on various clan vessels over the course of a few weeks. Actually placing him in combat situations was a secondary, avoidable objective that the elder Roh brother would have preferred considerably over his present circumstances. It had been frightening, once again, to watch an enemy vessel from this war zone pull alongside his ship and fire their magnetic grappling cables. Ten years ago, a similar attack had nearly led to a catastrophic end to the Pathfinder. Without the protective measures granted him by the technology he had brought with him, he sincerely doubted that he would now be among the small group of survivors. Had he fought on equal terms, his mission would have ended as promptly as it began.

  Even so, with incoming bullets disintegrated and major blows from hands, rifles or other blunt objects instantly softened, his shoulder and knee were still injured during the fighting. Automatic firearms were used at first, once the invaders managed to cut through the outer hull and board the small Crasel troop transport. But eventually the fighters drew closer to each other, enemies mixed together with ship defenders, and hand-to-hand combat became inevitable. Adam was able to step in front of many of his colleagues, using his instantly activating, protective energy shield to absorb much of the incoming firepower. It seemed impossible to believe, but if he had not chosen to do so the survivors of the Crasel vessel would have numbered even fewer. The electromagnetic field worked well with high speed projectiles, detecting and disintegrating each of them so swiftly and efficiently that they simply vanished in a blaze of golden sparks. Unfortunately, it had proven to be less effective than expected when dealing with punches or clubbing impacts… intentionally designed so as to prevent the disintegration of those around him.

  In other words, when I allow myself to get in a fight it will likely hurt a bit, Adam noted silently.

  The implant recorded everything, its sensors auto-detecting the results of each soldier he defeated and feeding data into its memory so that his personal defenses could improve with each encounter. The bonus had been the electrical stimulation of his skeletal structure and nervous system to enhance strength – he had literally picked up one enemy combatant and tossed him across a room into a group of other boarders. By the time they recovered and moved to retrieve their weapons, Adam and the Crasel with him had managed to force them to retreat in a hail of gunfire. Then they had closed off the section leading to the ship’s bridge.

  In the end, however, the invaders had proven to be far too numerous and efficient at killing crew members. When it became obvious that they were going to lose, Adam stepped in front of his fellow soldiers once again and raised his arms. He hadn’t known for certain whether or not they would take prisoners, but long-term observation data suggested that surrender would be honored. In the end, he and the other prisoners were herded onto the enemy ship and locked in the severely damaged corridor, which – from the looks of it – was barely able to contain a breathable atmosphere.

  If they hadn’t honored the surren
der, there would have been no other option but to intervene more forcefully, Adam remembered bitterly. And once he had revealed himself to be someone out of the ordinary, his ability to infiltrate and gather information would have dissolved away. It might have been better that way, he thought to himself a bit selfishly. Then they would have had to send in someone else. Leaning back uncomfortably against the corridor wall, he weighed his options as he and the Crasel soldiers waited patiently for their current ride to arrive at its intended destination. The scientist in him was incredibly curious as to what would happen to them – with entire stars dying off and entire solar systems snuffed out throughout the entirety of this war, valuable resources like food, water and ammo would be precious commodities. He found it difficult to imagine the existence of large scale prison camps. What, in the end, would their fate be?

  He was still pondering the matter when an explosion of static buzzed inside his head. For an instant he believed that someone had clubbed him, but that conclusion proved to be erroneous. Almost immediately, the sensation subsided and a familiar presence touched his mind. [“How is it going out there brother?”] He heard Thomas Roh ask curiously, even though his brother’s physical body still rested comfortably in a chair some millions of light years distant. [“It appears from this end as though your crew took a beating.”]

  Chuckling darkly, Adam focused his thoughts in order to direct a response back through the microscopic Point-to-Point window – just large enough for a data stream to get through – that hovered, unseen, above his head. [“It’s about time you guys got the thought transmission processor up and running,”] he replied using his thoughts alone. Both he and his brother were directly linked via their brain implants, capable of communicating at virtually any distance so long as power on one end remained strong enough to control the event. If the upgrades were on-line as he suspected, then Thomas was even seeing through his eyes now. That had been the plan, anyway, so he shifted his gaze in a wide arc around the corridor to give the team stationed back on Tranquility a better view. [“My trick football knee was bruised in the fighting and is acting up,”] he cautioned sternly. [“So if I seem a bit grumpy, it’s because I am a bit grumpy!”]

  There was a pause as Thomas spoke with someone on his end of the transmission. [“We’re sending a full upload containing patches that will enhance your electronic armor,”] he promised. [“Low speed impacts such as kicks and punches should be softened more quickly and efficiently the next time you need the protection. In fact, you shouldn’t sustain any additional injuries at all.”]

  [“The next time?”] Adam almost harrumphed out loud, but used the opportunity to remain silent and give nothing away. To the Crasel surrounding him, he appeared to be just another prisoner waiting patiently for his fate to be determined by their captors. [“The physical strength upgrades work just like we intended. A few bruises won’t stop me, but the next time… the next time I’m going to knock more heads together,”] he promised firmly. [“This getting captured business sucks to high heaven, big time!”]

  He and his brother continued to communicate using their newly discovered mental link for a few minutes longer. When they were finished and said their temporary good byes, he leaned his head back against the hard, filthy corridor wall and closed his eyes to rest.

  *

  The loud clanking from a metallic lock snapped him back awake almost instantly. Glancing around, he noticed that his colleagues, including Tran Wuu, were already standing. Altogether they barely eclipsed a dozen… these few battle worn soldiers who had somehow survived the thorough, brutal attack on their vessel. Slowly and deliberately, they gathered together protectively against the coming unknowns and waited silently for their fate to be determined. Without warning, a huge searchlight switched on at the far end of the corridor, blinding the men and forcing them to cover their eyes. “Welcome aboard the warship Pyrrh,” someone stated very loudly. “It is time for you to swear your loyalty to our cause or die.”

  “Who are you?” asked Adam curiously, squinting into the direct light.

  No answer.

  “Toss all weapons, including knives, in front of you and back away!” someone shouted in a commanding tone. “If we even suspect non-compliance of any kind, we’ll simply shut this hatch immediately and jettison all of you out into space.”

  The language processor informed him that the words he was hearing were spoken in a Zaketh dialect.

  Adam caught Tran Wuu glancing at him furtively, unsure of what to do. So he boldly removed the shoulder strap from around his neck and cautiously lowered his firearm to the metal deck. Nodding firmly at the soldiers around him, he also removed the large knife with its ribbed blade that had been strapped to his waist and set it next to the rifle. “Can we at least keep our water?” he asked hesitantly, one hand shielding his eyes from the bright light. A tall, broad-shouldered man had stepped partially in front of it, his silhouette flanked on both sides by four other men draped in shadow. All of them held their weapons lowered and ready.

  “Sure, why not,” came the quick response, followed by a light chuckle. Whoever it was waited patiently as Adam and his fellow soldiers finished dropping their weapons to the floor and then slowly backed away from the pile as instructed. “Here is what is going to happen,” the deep, booming voice continued slowly. “You each have a choice to make. Those of you who are willing to join Clan Zaketh will move toward us and enter the adjacent corridor. Those of you who are unwilling, those of you who choose to die with Clan Crasel need only stand where you are. You have ninety seconds to decide.”

  A hand gripped Adam’s shoulder firmly, but light enough not to trigger any of his defenses. “I guess it ends here brother,” decided Wuu glumly. “I would rather die right here and now than serve another Clan.”

  “Would you?” Adam studied the shadowy face of his friend curiously. “Dying here right now will accomplish… what, exactly?”

  “It will preserve our honor,” grunted the soldier standing directly behind Wuu. “Honor to the Crasel.”

  “If we die here, today, then we concede that we can no longer help the Crasel,” countered Adam emphatically. “While we are alive, there will always be hope.”

  Another huge Crasel soldier pointed at the bright source of the light in front of them. “If we join them, we must fight for them and kill for them… which means we become them. Our families would disown us and we would never see any of them again.”

  “I tell you there is another way,” persisted Adam determinedly. “But you must trust me.” He studied Wuu’s expression with interest. “Do you have a family?”

  “Yes. One wife. Nine children.”

  Adam reached out and firmly grabbed Tran Wuu’s arm. “If you ever want to see them again, you must choose to trust me,” he insisted one last time. Then he began walking forward, pulling the other man along with him.

  There were several calls of ‘traitor’ and the sound of spitting as Adam took the first few steps all by himself, but in the end it was a total of five of them walking toward the light. The man giving the orders, helmet covering most of his upper facial features, pointed toward the line of armed men standing behind him in the next corridor.

  “Walk to the end,” he ordered brusquely, then turned back toward those who chose to stay.

  Two men turned off the huge, portable light attached to the bulkhead and swiveled it back out of sight. The four man escort worked quickly to retrieve the pile of weapons and then followed their commander through the exit. There was another loud clanging sound as, working together, two more soldiers stepped forward to close the hatch tightly and firmly secured its locks. Studying them curiously, Adam noticed the orange, slightly overlapping circular designs on their black uniforms and how much they contrasted with the familiar yellow stripes of the Crasel.

  Hesitating just long enough to glance back toward the other Crasel, Adam’s innate empathy surfaced. “Can’t you find at least some way to spare them?” he pleaded desperately, his vo
ice nearly cracking. “Set them down on a planet… give them at least a fighting chance…”

  All he could see through the helmet’s dark visor was the man’s tightly clenched lower jaw. White teeth smiled at him through the shadows in response. “Every opponent who dies makes us stronger,” the Zaketh snapped derisively. “Compassionate fighters are weak fighters. Mind yourself and be wary of making a bad first impression.” He raised a dark, blocky transceiver unit in his left hand and spoke bluntly. “Tott, open airlock A-6 now. And leave it open until we reach home base… it stinks in there.”

  From the other side of the hatch, the screams of the dying were frighteningly brief.

  *

  Some of Clan Zaketh’s shock troops already lived in the troop quarters that Adam and his companions were eventually assigned to, approximately ten or so. For the most part, they returned to the racks assigned to them on the port side of the large chamber, then removed their armor and boots before taking the time to catch some sleep or talk softly amongst themselves. Tran Wuu studied the closest Zaketh warrior suspiciously. “Why haven’t we received our weapons back?” he inquired curiously. “Do you expect us to fight with our bare hands?” Many heads immediately swung around to size up the newcomers.

  “You’re newbies, mate,” growled their former adversary. “When we go into battle, you fight in front of us in your uniforms until your worth to the Zaketh is proven. Our opponents will see another clan’s warriors fighting for us and think us all the stronger. Weapons will be issued when you need them.” He chuckled with mild amusement, noting Wuu’s heavily bandaged chest. “You lads are big enough, but judging from your condition, I don’t expect you to be around long.” He turned with a smug, condescending laugh and rolled onto the small, dirty mattress next to him. “Now please be quiet and allow me to catch a few winks, right?”