He opened a channel to Pretorius.
“Captain, this is Jack. I am at a security blast door. I need you to override your security and let me through.”
“Copy that, Jack.”
Jack heard the strain in the captain’s voice.
“Just making my way to the security console now. I’ll deactivate them all. It’ll be quicker.”
Jack watched the security panel beside the blast door anxiously, waiting for it to activate and slide open.
And then the control panel beeped, lit up green, and the doors slid back rapidly, opening the full two-meter width of the corridor in a fraction of a second.
And standing in the corridor, Jack found himself looking at Lou Beretta only a few meters away, trying to open a side door.
Jack and Sam raised their rifles and took aim. Beretta pressed himself into the doorway and into cover.
“Hey, Jack. Good to see you,” Beretta shouted. “Have you changed your mind? You ready to join my crew yet?”
Jack took a step forward, his pulse rifle held lightly to his shoulder. He took another step, making sure to keep the same steady pace, his weapon targeted on the pirate just out of view. Sam walked alongside him in the same pose.
“No, Lou. I don’t think so,” Jack said as he took another slow step forward. “I am already committed to the crew of the Scorpio, you know. Why don’t you give yourself up? Looks like you have come to the end of the road. There’s no way out. That’s a maintenance hatch you’re trying to get through. There is nothing on the other side of there for you.”
Jack took another step forward.
“Just take him down,” Sam said quietly. He pulled a grenade off his suit and held his thumb over the arming button. “Low yield. We can just blow his legs off.”
Jack put his hand over Sam’s grenade and pressed it back down.
“No, Sam, we don’t want to give him a live grenade, even on a short fuse. It might well end up at our feet. We’ve got him cornered. No need to give him an advantage.”
“You know, Jack, I’ve been in a tight spot a couple of times,” Beretta called back, “and not many people ever try to take me alive. Mostly they try to kill me when they want me out of the way. Do you know what happened to them?”
“No, Lou. I don’t know, but I am too busy for you to tell me right now.” Jack took another step forward, slowly closing the distance.
The sound of the maintenance hatch door sliding open echoed along the corridor, a screeching and hissing of servos firing. Beretta ducked inside and called, “Anyone who has had me cornered has usually wound up dead, Jack. I don’t want to kill you, Jack, but I will if you make me.”
When Jack and Sam stepped forward again, they had Beretta trapped in a small maintenance area. There was no way out.
“Oh wait, I do want to kill you,” Beretta said, and he stepped out of the doorway and threw something along the corridor. A fizzing white meter-long electron blade cartwheeled along the corridor. The blade struck Sam in the chest, sliding through and out his back.
Jack opened fire with a rapid barrage of pulse rounds. Berretta ducked back into the maintenance area, and Jack advanced quickly, firing as he went. He reached the opening to the hatch and pulled a grenade off his tactical suit, tossing it inside. He slammed the control panel for the door and slid it shut. The grenade exploded inside.
Jack opened the door and stepped into the doorway, pistol aimed. He looked for Beretta amongst the debris, but all he could see was the broken maintenance equipment and a missing panel at the far side of the hatch at floor level.
Beretta was gone.
Jack pulled a micro-drone off his tactical suit and tossed it toward the opening. The drone raced along the small maintenance conduit and caught Beretta, attaching itself to his back.
With Beretta tagged, Jack turned and ran to Sam. He knelt next to his friend. The electron bayonet was still fizzing and sticking out of his chest. It had been detached from a Fleet Marine pulse rifle. Only the power unit and the blade emitter were standing above the fizzing blade. Only Beretta would be so reckless as to detach the electron bayonet from its parent pulse rifle.
Jack carefully gripped the emitter and deactivated the blade. It disappeared instantly from Sam’s chest, leaving only the cauterized wound.
Jack saw Sam’s bio readings stream over his helmet’s enhanced data view. All systems were showing critical failures.
Sam was dying.
“It’s okay, Sam,” Jack said. “I’ve authorized your tactical suit to begin emergency medical procedures. We’ll get you to a medical facility right away. Just hang in there.”
Sam lifted his arm to his helmet. The Mech tissue of his right arm was losing cohesion; the fingers were losing their shape. The hand was becoming a single paddle-like structure as he tried to remove the helmet.
Jack shook his head. “No, Sam. Leave the helmet on. Keep the tactical suit sealed. It’s the only way you are going to survive this.”
Sam’s voice was weak, barely a whisper, and he clawed at the jawline of the helmet as he tried to remove it.
“No, Jack. Nothing can save me now. Take this kravin’ helmet off. I hate these kravin’ things. They make me feel like I’m drowning.”
Jack nodded. He unclipped the helmet and pulled it off. His heart beat hard when he saw his friend’s face. Blood erupted from Sam’s mouth as he coughed weakly. The Marine’s eyes were filled with tears, but as always, there was a steely resolve behind Sam’s expression.
Jack took Sam’s hand.
“Live by the sword,” Sam said. He smiled and coughed, a splatter of blood erupting from his mouth. And then his eyes rolled back in his head.
“No. Sam! You do not have permission to leave. Do you hear me, Marine?! You are not allowed to go!”
Jack was becoming overwhelmed with the emotion of seeing his friend slipping rapidly from life. And then the medical data appeared on Jack’s data view.
Commander Sam Torent. Deceased.
Jack punched the deck plate. All the weight flowing through the gauntlet of his tactical suit slammed into the deck and cracked the composite. Jack screamed in rage. He stood up and punched the bulkhead. He growled and shouted his refusal to accept that Sam was dead. He threw a rapid flurry of punches at the bulkhead and then dropped down to his knees next to his friend. He took off his own helmet and held Sam’s head in his hands.
Sam was gone.
But Beretta was not.
Jack stood up, his entire body quaking in fury. He located Beretta with the micro-drone he had attached to the fleeing pirate’s back. Beretta was moving fast through some small channels hidden behind the Scorpio’s bulkheads, but Jack knew exactly where he was. And Jack knew where he was heading. Beretta would be attempting escape.
The nearest way off the Scorpio was the starboard side of the Marine hangar deck. There may still be a tac boat or squad transport there. Beretta was running like the cowardly criminal he was. Jack would not let him escape. He sprinted along the corridor, driven by hate and anger. He didn’t know exactly how he would kill Beretta, but he hoped it would be slow. Jack hoped he could pour out all his fury in killing Beretta. He hoped that by murdering his enemy, he would somehow salve the pain of the loss of his oldest friend.
“Jack. This is the captain. I need you on the command deck. Now.”
“Negative, Captain. This something I need to do. You have to cope on your own.”
Jack came to a junction with the stairway down. He dropped down the stairs, half-tumbling and half-running, his tactical suit’s local gravity field keeping him upright and moving fast.
A new message from the captain came over Jack’s communicator.
“Now you hear this, Major. You get your kravin’ ass to the command deck right now. I don’t care what else you have to deal with, you will deal with the Scorpio first. That is your duty. That is an order. Do you understand me?”
Jack slowed as he heard Pretorius’s. Surely the old captain was a
ware that one of the Marines had just been murdered. Unless of course he was too busy with trying to get the ship back underway and into the fight with the Skalidions.
“No,” Jack said as he stopped running. “I have to catch Beretta. I’m going to kill him.”
“Listen, Jack…” Pretorius sounded calm, but his breathing was labored. “We have our duty. That comes before everything. We need to get the Scorpio back to the fleet or everyone will be lost to the Skalidion. I can’t do this without you, Jack. You need to get up here now.”
Jack watched the signal of Beretta moving further and further away with every second. But the captain was right. Beretta was one man. Revenge would have to go unclaimed. Jack had work to do. He turned and ran back toward the command deck. After a few turns, he passed the fallen body of his old friend and ally, Sam Torent.
Jack had never felt so alone. He had never felt so lost. He forced himself to move past the body of his friend and toward the command deck of the Scorpio.
There was still a battle to be won.
Beretta burst out of the conduit and into the side corridor. He paused to get his bearings, then picked the way towards the hangar deck. He paused to listen for any one nearby. Satisfied he was alone, he ran off.
Turning a corner, Beretta skidded to a halt when he saw a Marine lying on the deck. They looked dead. Beretta ran on, but as he passed the prone body, he saw they were alive but trapped in a confinement field generated by the tactical suit itself.
Beretta kneeled and pulled off the helmet. He smiled and laughed as he saw Heaton’s face, a mixture of relief and anxiety.
“Ah, boss,” Heaton said, his voice quivering, “thank you for freeing me.”
Beretta smiled. “They used your own suit to confine you. Those Marines are a bunch of scroats.”
“Yes, boss,” Heaton said. “Glad I left and joined your organization.”
Beretta nodded. “But you kind of had no choice. I mean, I was going to kill you, wasn’t I?”
“But I helped out, didn’t I, boss?”
Beretta patted Heaton on the head. “Yes, you did. And you failed. I sent you to kill Jack Forge. I thought a Marine could get close to him.”
“Sorry, boss. Give me another chance. I’ll get him this time.”
Beretta nodded. “Maybe. Let’s get you out of this suit first.”
“Yes, boss. Thank you, boss.”
Beretta patted along Heaton’s tactical suit and found one last grenade strapped to the webbing. He pulled it off the strap and pointed at the arming switch. “So I can set the length of the fuse here?”
Heaton nodded nervously.
Beretta set a long fuse.
“This should get you out of that suit,” Beretta said.
“No. Boss, no!” Heaton panicked.
Beretta set the grenade down in front of Heaton, then he took off his jacket and found the tracker Jack Forge had sent after him. He plucked the drone off and set it next to the grenade.
“There, the grenade should take care of this drone for me,” Beretta said. “I’d like to see Forge track me then.”
Heaton struggled inside the suit’s confinement field, but he could only move his head and neck.
Beretta stood up.
“I had better get to a safe distance. I think I have selected a high-yield detonation. Once you are out of that suit, come and join me on the hangar deck. We’ll be leaving soon.”
Beretta started to walk away, the shouts of fear and panic from Heaton fading away as he turned one corner and then another. The blast, when it came, rocked the corridors. Beretta stumbled slightly and then walked on, untroubled by the blast any further.
6
Jack staggered onto the command deck still reeling from the shock of Sam’s death. Pretorius looked around as the security door slid aside.
“Take over at navigation, Jack.” Pretorius pointed to the navigation console. He limped over to the command chair, cradling his broken rib. It was difficult to climb up into the chair, but with effort, he made it, collapsing into the seat with a wince of pain.
“He’s dead,” Jack said, standing in the doorway and looking up at Pretorius.
“Who is dead? Berreta?” Pretorius said. He waved Jack toward the navigation console.
“No,” Jack said, standing, feeling uncertain, lost. “Sam. He killed Sam.”
Pretorius looked over a shoulder. “Navigation console, now, Major. It has been a long time since I set a course directly on the navigation console. I need you to check my numbers while I try and get some of these weapons online.”
Jack looked up at Pretorius in the command chair as he walked over to the console. His feet felt heavy. His stomach sinking.
“Move!” Pretorius shouted.
“Yes, sir.” Jack shook the empty feeling and took a few steps across the command deck. The feeling of loss was like nothing he’d felt since he lost his brother in the weeks before he joined the Fleet Marines. It was as if his guts had been pulled out. He felt like he was collapsing under his own weight as he shuffled toward the navigation console.
A course was set to rendezvous with the fleet. The small holodisplay blinked and showed the course the Scorpio would take through the system towards planet Blue, including the slingshot maneuver around Blue’s moon and on to join the retreating fleet.
The numbers were meaningless to Jack. The blinking holographic schematic was meaningless. He heard his name being called again, but the voice was distant. Only when the shout came louder did Jack turn. Pretorius was leaning forward in his command chair, glowering down at Jack.
“Pull yourself together, Major. It is not the first time either of us lost a colleague. You can mourn your friend later. Now we need to get in the fight. Check my numbers and make sure I’m not going to fly us into a moon or an asteroid. I need to get the Scorpio alongside the Canis and the Aquarius before the Skalidions can tear the fleet apart. Do you copy, Major?”
Jack nodded. He felt himself surface through the heavy, mournful regret like a diver coming up for air. Suddenly, his task seemed clear. The Scorpio was needed. Jack Forge was needed. He may never fully recover from the loss of his friend, but for now, he needed to focus on the task at hand.
“The Scorpio’s course is good, sir,” Jack said as he looked at the console again. The data, the flight schematic, it all came into focus. Everything made sense. It was familiar. It was comforting to be engaged in a task that he knew he could accomplish. He had felt himself drifting into self-pity as he realized that capturing Lou Beretta was something he’d failed to do on so many occasions. And on this occasion, it had cost him his friend’s life.
“Get to the drive console, Jack,” Pretorius said. He was tapping away furiously on his armrest. “Make sure we’ve got our drive systems online and there is no corruption in the network. I don’t want us flying the ship apart. Get us to that rendezvous point.”
Jack marched to the drive console and tapped a few buttons to call up the layout for the drive system. The reactors were online and all conduits to the assembly were showing green and ready for action. But even as he was working and concentrating, he again felt the crushing sadness of having seen his friend cut down.
“Activating main drive,” Jack called out as he tapped the holographic button hovering over the drive console then moved to the main weapons console.
A holoimage of the Scorpio’s hail cannon emplacements along both flanks showed red against the green holographic lines of the Scorpio schematic. All hail cannons were offline and out of commission.
“All hail cannons out of action, sir. I can’t get them back online.”
Pretorius climbed down from the command chair and went over to the main holostage, calling up a schematic of the Scorpio. All along the port and starboard sides, the hail cannon batteries were burnt out.
“Sabotage,” Pretorius said bitterly. “We are going to have to find some firepower if we are going to be effective when we rejoin the fleet. I’m going to try and get
some power to the laser assembly. Jack, get to the communications console. Activate communication channels. We need to get a message to the fleet and let them know we are on our way.”
Pretorius zoomed out the image of the Scorpio and called up an image of the blue giant system. At the center of the holoimage, the star appeared as a fist-sized ball of blue fire. Real-time data showed its boiling surface and the arching streams of churning plasma fire billowing out into space. Further out from the star was planet Blue itself. A large super-terrestrial covered in oceans and scattered green islands. And moving toward planet Blue were the hundreds of points of light representing the ships of the fleet. Forming the rearguard of the retreating fleet was the small group of battleships. And just on the edge of weapons range and filling a huge portion of the holoimage, Pretorius could see the Skalidion swarm.
“We have got to get some firepower,” Pretorius said, his voice almost silenced in awe at the fearsome, imposing threat. “How is the communication channel coming along, Jack?”
“Communications open, sir. I am connecting you with the flagship command deck now,” Jack said.
The short whistle sounded across the command deck, informing Captain Pretorius that the Scorpio’s command deck was connected to the flagship’s command deck.
“This is Pretorius. We are heading in system. The Scorpio will rendezvous with you at these coordinates.”
“This is Group Captain Stuart. Good to hear from you, Captain. The Skalidion are pressing us hard. Most of the civilian fleet is in orbit around planet Blue. Some are falling behind. We can’t save them. Get here quickly, Scorpio. The fleet needs you.”
Jack closed the channel and looked over at the holostage. Pretorius was watching the data coming in from the battle and the retreat. A civilian transport was veering off to the fleet’s port flank and drifting further from the protective cover of the destroyers. The Skalidion fighters swooped in on the civilian transport the instant it fell outside of the destroyers’ weapons range, and soon, it was crawling with Skalidion fighters. The ship was utterly lost and at the mercy of the voracious alien predators.
Last Stand Boxed Set Page 23
