Mako (The Mako Saga: Book 1)

by Ian J. Malone

  “Morning,” the soldier said in a throaty voice to the five strangers trudging up the gravel road toward him. “How’d it go up there tonight?”

  “It went,” Lee said in his best weary voice. “I swear man, it don’t matter how many of us they cram into this project, it just doesn’t seem to be enough, ya know?” The soldier nodded in full agreement, exhaling the final drag from his cigarette before flicking it to the ground beside him.

  “Yeah tell me about it,” he huffed. “This is my third trip out here. Third! I’m the chief engineer back on my ship and believe me, you have no idea how much work is piling up on me right now. But for some reason—god knows why—these idiots act like I’m the only guy in the empire that knows how to wire a basic comm system. Go figure.”

  “Comm guy, huh?” Lee asked.

  “That’s what they tell me,” the soldier snorted, visibly annoyed. “On a more personal note, this isn’t exactly how I envisioned spending my honeymoon, either.”

  “Congratulations,” Lee offered. “When did you tie the knot?”

  “Last week,” he beamed, though his exuberance faded quickly after that. “I was supposed to be on a beach right now, sipping cocktails with the new Mrs. and coming up with new excuses why we never made it out of our room for dinner but nooooo. I have to get an emergency call from my CO the night before the ceremony, telling me I’m being redeployed back to this craphole!”

  “Typical,” Lee scoffed.

  “Amen to that!” the man agreed. “Well, speaking of the boss, I’ve got an early morning tête à tête with him before check on, so let me run. Good talkin’ to you,” he said, offering a handshake and reaching for the barracks door.

  “Likewise,” said Lee. “Don’t work too hard, alright?”

  The man laughed. “You kidding me? These inconsiderate jerks oughta be happy I’m even here. As far as I’m concerned, any productivity that might occur during that time is just charity on my part.”

  And with that, he slipped through the door and vanished into a nearby stairwell.

  “Chatty fellow,” Danny remarked once they were alone.

  “Ah, give the guy a break,” said Lee. “You’d be pissed too if your honeymoon had gotten highjacked by the Powers That Be.”

  “You know he’s not real, right?” noted Danny.

  “Crazy, huh?”

  Peering down the barracks’ dimly lit main corridor, Lee counted eight doors on each side of the hall before it turned off to the right into what was no doubt more rooms. Stepping to the closest one—marked “A-1”—he examined the small removable tab posted beside the door. On it, there were nine names, all written in pencil.

  “Looks like we’ve got nine unis in this one,” Lee gestured to the tab. “We need five, one bein’ a female. Everybody take a door and let me know when you find one.”

  “You mean these guys do co-ed bunks?” Link exclaimed. “Man, I’m totally playing for the wrong team here!”

  “Most of the time, no. But when they’ve got as many people crammed into a project as they do here, they’ll stack some of the lower-level staff like techs and med personnel for the sake of space. Now if you’re done with your Peeping Tom fantasy, how ‘bout you find me my marks?”

  The group fanned out and began searching their respective panels, moving quietly from door to door. Finally, Mac signaled that she had something.

  “Looks like six in this one, and one of ‘em is a chick,” she told the others. “That’s the smallest number I’ve seen so far.”

  Nodding, Lee removed the suppressed pistol from his avatar’s shirt and readied himself at the door handle while the others did the same. Then, following Lee’s silent three-fingered count, the group slipped through the door and assumed their positions in front of their respective bunks as, for a brief instant, the pitch-black of the room ignited with a synchronous series of muted muzzle flashes. When the firing finally ceased, Danny reached for the light switch to reveal a total of six blood-soaked beds before him.

  “Damn it, lads,” Hamish frowned, cramming his sidearm back into his shirt as he reemerged from the bathroom. “That was just plan mean, killing them in their sleep like that.”

  “Yeah I know,” Link snickered. “It was awesome!”

  “Eh,” Hamish shrugged. “I don’t like it. No sport in it at all.”

  “Whatever,” Link said, poking one of the corpses with the barrel of his gun. “Dead is dead. As long as it’s them and not me, that’s all I give a crap about.”

  Amused, and a little disturbed by his friend’s morbid sense of humor, Lee motioned to Danny. “Danny, you’re on the door. Mac, you’re up.”

  Wasting no time, Mac hurried to the bedside footlockers of each of the slain technicians, and rifling through their contents, she recovered the ID badges from each. Then, retrieving a small rectangular device from her shirt pocket, she slid each ID through the slit on its side, mindful to make sure that each one coded properly.

  “Okay, that’s it for the badges,” Mac said, scurrying for the computer terminal in the corner of the room. “But I’m gonna need a couple of minutes to update our security profiles in the network.”

  “No problem, just don’t dally,” Lee said with a glance at his avatar’s watch. “We’re on a tight timetable here.”

  Choosing to ignore the hard, sarcastic eye roll of the female avatar in front of him, Lee stepped past Hamish to take stock of the bathroom that Hamish had just cleared.

  “Danny, stay on the door and keep an eye out,” he said, rejoining the others by the bunks. “Link and Hamish, while she’s doin’ that we need to pile these bodies into the head, lock the door, then make these beds with some fresh linens out of that closet over there.”

  “What, we housekeeping now?” Link protested.

  “Yeah,” said Lee, “because if someone comes in here after we’re gone, we need it to look like these guys have already cleared out for work. Follow?”

  “Fine,” Link relented. “I’ll take Manwich duty if you guys will make the beds. Never could get those top-sheet corners right.”

  “And if somebody checks the john?” Danny asked, drawing a shrug from Lee.

  “Well, in that case we’re screwed, so cross your fingers and hope nobody around here runs outta TP this mornin,’ alright?

  Five minutes later, once Hamish and Lee had finished the last of the dreaded top-sheet corners, Lee rose to his feet and glanced back to the computer terminal.

  “Tick tock, Mac,” he said curtly. “We can blend in to the crowd at the security gate without any problem because it’ll be filled with people. But the folks in the next room might get that we don’t belong here if we don’t get a move on.”

  “Keep your panties on,” she muttered, fingers still racing over the keyboard. Then, with a final, emphatic pound of the “enter” key, she jumped up to rejoin the others.

  “Hey, just out of curiosity,” Mac asked, cocking an eyebrow at Lee. “What was your plan to get past security into main engineering once we’re onboard the depot? I mean, were you just gonna use your rugged good looks and award-winning charm or what?”

  His lips thinned.

  “Uh huh, that’s what I thought, McFly,” she snarked. “FYI, I took the liberty of planting a phony maintenance requisition for work on the energy core while I was in the system. That should give security a valid reason for your presence there when you hit the checkpoint.”

  “Thanks,” he said, a little embarrassed.

  “Don’t mention it,” she chirped, obviously proud of herself.

  “Hey guys, you gotta come in here and check this out!” Link called from the bathroom.

  A little startled, Lee rushed inside to find Link propped lazily against the wall.

  “Whoa, where’d they go?” Lee asked, scanning the spotless tile floors for the dead Alystierian technicians that Link had been assigned to place there.

  Then it hit him. Hamish had opened all of the bathroom stalls earlier when he’d cleared the r
oom. Now, inexplicably, each one was closed shut.

  Looking back to Link, who was all but giddy over his idea, Lee hunched over to see six sets of legs dangling in front of the toilets inside.

  “You’re kiddin’ me, right?” he said through a twisted expression.

  “I know,” Link beamed. “I call it ‘The Elvis.’”

  ****

  Exiting the barracks back out into the main thoroughfare, the group returned to the docking area where they were greeted instantly by a weary mob of 80-plus soldiers and technicians, each of whom carried the same “tired and pissed to be here” expression as their newlywed friend from earlier.

  “IDs at the ready as you approach the gate, please,” the guard ahead instructed as the sleepy mass before him awaited passage by his terminal. “IDs displayed, please.”

  Reaching for the small laminated card hanging from his neck, Lee inspected the badge. A double sided piece, the back side featured the bar code which now contained all of their forged information. The front however, was an entirely different ordeal.

  There, backed in its signature blood red, was the black silhouette of an ancient broad sword. Dark and foreboding, with its hard edged lines and thick, hefty blade, the weapon rested squarely atop the white silhouette of an eccentrically shaped star, and it did so in such a way that the black sword seemed to impale its white counterpart. According to legend, both had been chosen for a very specific reason, though in 41 missions that’d never been revealed. Still, the inscription at the base of the Alystierian flag left little doubt as to its intended message. Two words which, when translated, meant simply, “Divinely Triumphant.”

  “You sure these things are good to go?” Lee muttered, a little nervous as he and Mac approached the gate.

  She frowned an annoyed response.

  “IDs?” the guard huffed, and handing his over, Lee glanced past the man’s shoulder to see his forged name, along with those of his team, appear on the monitor; Waters, Gilmore, Mason, Wright and… Joplin.

  “Thank you, move along please,” the guard droned, hurrying them through the checkpoint to keep the line moving.

  Veering left through the crowd toward their designated transport ship, the group trotted up the boarding ramp and proceeded down the main deck into the passenger cabin. Slumping down into his seat, Lee exhaled with relief.

  “So I’m gonna step out on a limb here and guess that the original names on these IDs probably weren’t the four members of Pink Floyd?” he said to Mac who dropped down into the chair beside him

  “I might’ve taken a few… creative liberties,” she grinned.

  “Listen, jokes aside, that was some nice work. Really nice.”

  “Like you’ve ever gotten anything less from me,” Mac smirked. “You do realize that, one day, there is going to come a time when you’ll be forced to actually take me seriously for a change, right?”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he dismissed with a chuckle. “BTW, Janis sucks. Just sayin’.”

  Mac shot him a glare. “You shut your mouth!”

  With that, the picture in Lee’s view faded to black with another theatrical transition as the massive, egg-shaped transport ship lifted gingerly off of its platform, tilted to port; then veered in an effortless swoon toward the magnificent peach florescence of the rising Morrius sun.

  Chapter 7: Best-Laid Plans

  Knifing through the cloud cover of the planet’s atmosphere, the ship finished its slow ascent back into the familiar black vastness of space and leveled out onto its final heading. Staring into the distance, Lee watched as a large, spiral-shaped structure gradually drew into focus, several kilometers off of the port bow.

  Comprised of five elaborately constructed, rim-shaped platforms—all encircling a gigantic gray torso—the depot was divided into four, three-story sections, giving it a total of 19 levels in all.

  Scanning every inch of the structure as it grew nearer in his goggles, Lee studied its layout carefully.

  Each platform showcased three exterior refueling stations which consisted of docking clamps, retractable moorings, the refueling umbilical itself and a retractable jet-way for passenger disembarkation. Furthermore, from initial docking to umbilical disconnect and vessel release, each station was capable of replenishing a near 100% fuel load in just under five minutes, providing, of course, that no maintenance or repairs were needed. Taken into account that this could be done with up to 15 ships at a time, with virtually every model ship in the fleet outside of carriers (those were covered via the four mobile refueling shuttles housed in the depot’s central interior docking bay) and the potential threat of this installation was undeniable.

  “Check it out,” Link mumbled from the seat behind Danny. “Looks like an evil corkscrew!”

  As the station came closer into view, much of the facility appeared to be complete—evidenced by the pristine shape of its finished paneling and the buzz of activity behind its honeycomb of illuminated windows. Still, several of its lower sections were noticeably unfinished with their skeleton-like steel struts and matted wads of exposed cables. Ultimately however, it wouldn’t be long before this installation became fully operational, and while initially their mission had seemed desperate at best, Lee knew now that the ASC brass had been right to order it.

  Passing through the pressurization tunnel at the docking bay’s entrance, the transport taxied its way through the traffic and blue lighting of the cavernous, four-story hangar before coming to a gentle rest on one of the corner platforms. Hearing the hum of the thrusters subside once more, Lee watched as the view in his goggles shifted back to player mode; and not wanting to waste any time, he rose from his seat in the cabin, glanced back to make sure the others were in tow, and headed straight for the exit into the sea of scurrying personnel outside.

  “Alright, bro, where are we headed from here?” Danny asked beside him as Lee locked eyes with one of the half-dozen traffic control officers in the tower overhead. Looking away, so as not to arouse suspicion, Lee’s eyes found their way to an oddly shaped hatch beside the tower, though at the moment, its purpose was of little consequence.

  “Not here,” Lee instructed, gesturing to the hallway at the far end of the hangar.

  Veering to the right of the long white corridor, Lee rounded the corner, past a pair of preoccupied soldiers, and ushered the group into a supply closet at the end of the hall.

  “Okay,” he began, closing the door behind them and giving a quick check to make sure they were alone. “Right now we’re just outside the central hangar bay on the tenth level. Danny, Hamish, and I will proceed to main engineering, which is located seven levels down in the depot core. Mac, you and Link head back to the bay and get to work on how we’re gonna get off this thing.”

  “No problem,” she acknowledged. “I’m thinking one of those idle refueling shuttles will do nicely. Link, you good with that?”

  “Dig it,” Link agreed.

  “Perfect,” Lee continued. “It’ll take us a few minutes to lift down to the core and get into position for Hamish to do his thing. Hamish, how much time are you gonna need?”

  “Depends on how new the tech is,” said Lunley. “Theoretically, it shouldn’t take me any more than three or four minutes to set the charge and route the detonator through the injection ports, but I haven’t done anything like this since our mission on E-14, so the specs might’ve changed slightly… in which case, it may take me a wee bit longer, but not much.”

  Lee returned to Mac and Link. “Once the charge has been set, we’ll radio you on the comm. When we do, have that shuttle as prepped for launch as you can without drawin’ attention to yourselves. Once we’re onboard, Hamish will detonate the charge, and that’ll start the chain reaction. At that point, we’ll have 90 seconds to get outta here before the main reactor goes up, or else we die along with everyone else aboard. Ruah?”

  “Ruah.”

  “Good. Let’s roll.”

  Maintaining their discreet facade as they exited
back into the hall, Mac and Link took their leave toward the hangar bay while Lee and the others headed for the lift that would take them down to main engineering. Moments later, the slender metal doors to the small, confined space slid open, and the three were met by the booming sounds of heavy equipment, hissing hydraulics, and humming coolant fans at the end of the corridor outside.

  “Sounds like we’re in the right place,” Danny noted as the group stepped off the lift.

  Rounding the corner to main engineering, the trio halted at the security station just outside the entrance where they were met by three guards; two at the door and one behind a computer terminal, just as Mac had predicted.

  “Can we help you, sir?” asked the guard on the left—a casual hand rested atop the rifle dangling from his right shoulder.

  “Gilmore, Waters, and Mason,” said Lee, gesturing to the others. “We got a maintenance report that you fellas might be havin’ some issues with one of the injection systems in the reactor core. We’re here to take a look.”

  The guard motioned to the man behind the computer whose fingers were already fast at work to verify their story. A few nervewracking moments later, he responded with a compliant nod.

  “Thank you, sirs” the guard acknowledged, stepping aside to allow them passage.

  The depot’s main engineering section was nothing short of enormous. Rising nearly three stories in height and spanning roughly 180 meters wide by 250 meters deep, its walls were lined with an array of tall, boxy equipment towers—each one covered in blinking lights, dancing needles, and multicolored measurement counters. Down on the floor—amid a labyrinth of desks, terminals, and workstations—a handful of technicians migrated from display to display, diligently penciling information on their computer tablets as they monitored the core’s activity which, for all intents and purposes, served as the heart of the installation itself.

  Surveying the area around him, Lee’s eyes eventually came to rest on their objective—a giant metallic dome, covered in lights and located directly at the center of the room.