Renegade Earth

by J. N. Chaney

  He frowned.

  “Lesson learned,” Abigail said. “Never let the Cognitive choose your wardrobe.”

  I pulled up the monitor on the nearby wall, examining the strike ships, which had just departed The Galactic Dawn and were now dividing themselves between the planet’s surface and the nearby space, establishing a defensive perimeter.

  I turned back to the rest of my team. “Grab your weapons and get ready to move. We’ve got a Union carrier to board.”

  Twelve

  My team stood inside The Galactic Dawn, watching as dozens of soldiers gathered on the other side of the docking bay for what I could only assume was an impromptu briefing. The entire ship was mostly likely filled with activity right now, given the situation. None of these people had a single clue what to expect before they arrived out of slipspace, but now they were in orbit around a planet with multiple ancient cities on it. They had no time to prepare for any of this, which meant all those discussions—all those briefings—had to take place on the spot, right in the middle of the situation.

  In other words, the entire crew was in disarray, too preoccupied to pay attention to a handful of soldiers in the corner of the landing deck.

  A good thing for us, I thought. I reached for my pad, pulling it from my side pocket and examining the screen. “Siggy, let’s see the map.”

  Instantly, the pad activated and a simple map loaded for The Dawn. I studied it very quickly, then dragging a finger across the screen to zoom in on it, causing the map to fill with even more detail. We were in the middle of docking bay 04, by the look of it, which meant we’d have to find a lift and head to deck 02. The bridge was only a short walk from there, but half the team wouldn’t be going. Dressler, along with Freddie, would ride a second elevator to the engine room for an entirely separate job.

  I looked at my crew and held my pad up. “Check your screens.”

  They did, quickly retrieving the same map. “We’ll get to ours before you,” said Dressler.

  “I’ll wager you’ll finish the job first, too,” I responded, knowing how difficult our task would be compared to theirs. I lowered my voice even more, whispering, “Siggy, show me the countdown timer for the drones.”

  “Right away, sir,” rang his voice in my ear.

  Suddenly, a clock appeared in the upper righthand corner of the display. “Twenty-eight minutes and counting,” I muttered. “That’s how long we have. We need to be finished when this hits zero. Understand?”

  They all nodded.

  Dressler looked around. “We’ll wait for you here, until you get back.”

  I shook my head. “No. You get your asses on the ship and seal the door until I tell you otherwise. If you’re out here in the open, you’ll only draw attention. That’s the last thing we need.”

  She took a second, but then nodded. “Fair point.”

  “Remember, you only need to plant that thumbdrive and get out of there. Nothing else,” I told them, making sure to look at Freddie as well as Dressler. “No godsdamn heroics if you can help it.”

  “We’ll be fine, Captain,” assured the doctor. “You worry about yourself and what you have to do. I’ll look after Mr. Tabernacle.”

  Freddie smiled, and I wondered if he was blushing beneath that artificial exterior.

  “Okay,” I said, glancing around at the nearby soldiers, then back to Dressler. “You two head out. We’ll wait a few minutes before we do the same. Don’t want to draw too much attention by traveling in a pack.”

  Dressler leaned in close to Freddie. “If anyone asks, you’re assisting me.”

  “With what?” he asked.

  “You’re assigned to Services, correct? We’ll say you’re helping me retrieve some cleaning supplies.”

  “Will that actually work?” he asked.

  I fanned a hand at them. “It’s fine. Just get going. We’re losing time.”

  They both nodded and proceeded to leave, heading into the crowd of disorganized soldiers.

  I turned to Abigail and Lucia. “We’ll give it two minutes before we go. Should be long enough.”

  “Sir, I’ve just noticed a problem,” said Sigmond.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  “The bridge deck requires an access card to enter. Unfortunately, I won’t be able to replicate the process, due to my limited access. You’ll need to find someone with the proper credentials before you can reach it.”

  “Why the hell didn’t you tell us this before?”

  “I’m afraid I didn’t know, sir,” he explained. “This level of security isn’t standard on most Union vessels.”

  “They must have added it recently,” said Abigail.

  “Or it’s unique to this ship,” I added.

  “Why would it be?” she asked.

  “Brigham’s here, and there’s only one of him. Might be that he’s afraid of the exact thing we’re about to do.”

  “Let’s hope not,” said Abigail. “I’d rather he underestimate us than not.”

  “Let’s head to the elevator,” I said. “We can worry about this when we’re not standing so far out in the open.”

  * * *

  The lift was positioned near the center of the deck, a short walk from where we landed. This section was far more open, with higher ceilings and groups of soldiers assembling at various hubs.

  “What now?” asked Abigail. “We can’t get on this elevator without the right access to the bridge. Otherwise, we’ll have to get off somewhere else.”

  I nodded. “Just give me a second,” I replied, crossing my arms. I scanned the room, looking at all the different Union lackies running back and forth. “Siggy, what’s the lowest authorization we need to get on that deck?”

  “Sergeant or higher, sir.”

  “Sergeant?” I asked, still examining the soldiers. “What’s the symbol for that one?”

  “Four stripes and three dots, with each dot stitched between each stripe.”

  “Okay, got it,” I said.

  It only took a few seconds to spot someone with the appropriate rank on their shoulder, but she was in the middle of a conversation with several other people. That was no good. I found two others soon after, but once again, they were occupied. I knew the safest option was to find someone alone that could be easily manipulated into doing what we told them. The more people around, the more questions would arise about who we were and what we were doing here. One person was easy to trick, but a group? Not a chance.

  “Over there,” whispered Abigail, tapping my arm. She pointed to the far wall where a young man stood alone, reading over his pad.

  I nodded and began walking over to him, leaving the crowd at the center of the atrium as well as the elevators. The boy, who looked to be in his early twenties, seemed oblivious to anything happening around him, his whole focus on the pad in his hands. He was pale, almost to a sickly degree, with bags under his eyes. This was too perfect. Either he was overworked or an insomniac, either of which could prove beneficial to our situation. If he wasn’t alert, he wouldn’t think too much about whatever we chose to ask him, and he wouldn’t question who any of us were.

  “You there,” I barked as we approached him. “What are you doing, standing here like that? What are you supposed to be doing right now?”

  The boy looked up at us, slightly dazed. “Oh, uh, I’m—”

  “I asked what you were doing here, Sergeant—” I paused, leaning closer to look at his name. “—Billins.”

  “I’m, uh,” he muttered. “I’m just looking over my report before I file it. I have a few minutes to spare before my supervisor gets here with the rest of our shop. They’re on a job together on deck 14. Really, it’s nothing—”

  I snatched the pad out of his hand. The screen showed some kind of game involving a farm. There was a man with a pitchfork bobbing in the middle of a field with crops surround him. “What the hell is this?”

  Sigmond answered me right away. “That would be a video game, sir. I believe it is call
ed FarmLife, intended for ages 6-12.”

  I handed the pad to Abigail, then turned back to the sergeant. “Do you know what the penalty is for lying to a superior?”

  He gulped. “I—”

  Abigail stepped forward, arms behind her back, lifting her chin at the young man. “Billins, was it? I shall make a note of this for my report.” Her tone surprised me. She sounded so formal.

  “I-I’m sorry, ma’am! I shouldn’t have lied. I feel so embarrassed! I just didn’t want anyone to think less of me because I was playing a game like that. I—”

  Abigail raised a hand to quiet him. “Enough of this. You will have to be reprimanded for this flagrant disregard for—”

  “There’s no need for that. Is there, Major?” I asked, raising my brow. “He was only taking a minute before his team showed. Maybe you could let this one slide.” I looked around. “Our escort never showed. Maybe Billins here could do us the courtesy of being our escort.”

  Abigail twisted her lips at the boy, giving him a suspicious look. “I don’t know. Can we really trust someone so…careless?”

  “I-I can escort you, ma’am! Where do you need to go? Engineering? The outer wing? I’m more than happy to help. Just please don’t report me!”

  Abigail stared at him, taking the exact length of time needed to instill the maximum amount of fear, which I counted as four seconds. “I suppose we do require assistance,” she muttered. “And you seem to have nothing better to do.”

  “Then it’s settled,” I said.

  Billins nodded, looking quite relieved. “Thank you so much, sir. Where exactly would you like me to take you?”

  “Our escort was supposed to take us to see General Brigham on the bridge,” said Abigail.

  “The bridge?” he asked. “Oh, uh, I haven’t been up there since—”

  “Is there a problem, Sergeant?” asked Abigail.

  “N-No, ma’am! It’s just that, well, I don’t know if I’m authorized to bring guests to the bridge. I’m only a maintenance crewman and I—”

  “Now, Billins,” I said, tensing my voice a little. “You don’t want to receive that reprimand, do you? I’m trying to help you out here, son.”

  “Of course not, sir! Please, I’ll help you. Just give me a second to tell my supervisor.”

  I shook my head. “There’s no time for that. Major—” I paused, looking at Abigail’s nametag. “Major Nun here will have your new orders relayed to your supervisor.”

  Abigail looked down at her nametag, probably for the first time, and then back at me. She seemed surprised.

  “Uh, if you insist, sir,” said the sergeant.

  “I do, indeed, Billins,” I said. “Now, let’s get going. Don’t want to keep the boss waiting, do we?”

  “No, sir, not at all. Right this way, please,” he said, scurrying ahead of us towards the elevator.

  Abigail leaned in as we started walking. “Major Nun, was it? Do you think you’re being funny?”

  “What’s wrong? Don’t like your name?”

  “When did you even have time to—"

  “Athena asked me for a set of names, so I just told her the first thing that came to mind,” I explained.

  “Out of everything you could have called me, you chose that one,” she remarked.

  “I like it,” declared Lucia, leaning in between us as we walked.

  “You would,” said Abigail. “Lieutenant Marygold.”

  Lucia smiled, proudly.

  Abigail looked at the name on my chest. “And Constable—” She scoffed. “—Hughes? You gave yourself your own name?”

  “What? I couldn’t think of anything better,” I replied.

  “But—”

  “Is everything alright, ma’am?” asked Billins, who was already inside the elevator, waiting for us.

  Abigail stiffened, sending a swift glare of anger at poor Sergeant Billins. “Mind yourself, Sergeant! You’re already on thin ice.”

  “Y-Yes, ma’am!” he stuttered, standing at attention.

  We boarded the elevator with the clueless Sergeant Billins and waited for the doors to close. He slid his card across the sensor, then entered his authorization code. “We should reach the bridge shortly, sir,” he said in an awkward tone.

  “Very good,” I told him, trying to stand the way I imagined a career minded Constable might—back stiff, arms to the side, chest out, emotionless expression from years of burying all independent thoughts and feelings.

  I caught Abigail staring at me with a raised eye. “Is something wrong with you?” she asked.

  “What? No, nothing’s wrong,” I said, loosening up my shoulders. “Shut up.”

  Billins seemed oblivious, staring at the card scanner next to the elevator door, probably worrying himself senselessly over getting caught with that video game.

  The clueless bastard had no idea what he’d just signed up for.

  The lift doors opened soon, and we stepped out into the hall. “This way, sir,” said Billins, motioning to the busier side of the corridor.

  I nodded, following the poor kid’s lead. The section right outside the bridge teemed with crew activity, coming and going from different side rooms. As I had suspected when we first arrived, the entire ship was in a state of chaos.

  Which was about to get a whole lot worse.

  Three soldiers stood outside the bridge, each with a rifle across their chest. Billins approached one of them and presented his I.D.

  “State your business here, please,” commanded one of the soldiers.

  “Escorting Constable Hughes to the bridge, sir,” said Billins.

  “Constable Hughes?” inquired the soldier, looking at me.

  “We’re from another ship,” I said. “Came aboard just now on orders to see General Brigham.”

  The two soldiers exchanged a glance. “Is he in the logs?” asked one of them.

  “Let me check,” said the other, pulling up a pad and examining the screen. He swiped through a list of names, one after the next. “I’m not seeing anything.”

  I turned around so they couldn’t see me. “Siggy?” I whispered.

  “Just a moment, please,” answered Sigmond. “There.”

  I looked back at the men and sighed, trying to seem agitated. “Did you refresh the page? Try that. I’ll wait.”

  “With all due respect, sir, I don’t think that—”

  “It worked,” stated the second soldier. “Look here. His name just popped up. The system must have had a delay.”

  “What about the other two?” asked the first one.

  The man paused, studying the display. “Both here,” he finally answered.

  The first man nodded. “You’re clear to enter, sir. Thank you for your patience. I’m sorry for holding you up.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” I said.

  He opened the door, then stepped aside so we could enter. I ordered Billins to go first, with the rest of us following behind. As we stepped inside, I felt the door slide shut behind me.

  The bridge was similar in size to the one on Titan, although this one was far busier with dozens of people working at their stations.

  “Can I help you, sir?” asked a voice.

  I looked to see a female officer standing to the side of us. “This is Constable Hughes and Major Nun. They’re here to speak with General Brigham,” explained Billins.

  “Is that so?” asked the woman, whose name appeared to be Clark. “Well, please wait here while I fetch him.”

  I nodded, watching her walk off towards a circle of other officers. She nudged her way between a few of them, opening the group up and allowing me to see the one at the center—a man whose face I’d grown all too familiar with.

  General Brigham looked at me from the crowd, a stern expression on his face. He seemed both curious and confused, although both were hardly noticeable with a face like his, and he said something inaudible to Lieutenant Clark before dismissing her.

  “Are you sure this is going to work?�
�� asked Abigail.

  “You’ll have to ask Siggy,” I whispered. “He’s the one who forged our orders.”

  Lieutenant Clark returned straight away, no sign of worry in her eyes. Unless she was good at hiding her feelings, I was pretty sure this was all going to go according to plan. “Constable, please come with me,” she said.

  On second thought, maybe not, I thought, and then I asked, “What’s that now?”

  “The General has requested that you wait for him in the side office, right there,” she said, pointing to another door, not far from us. “He says the bridge is presently too chaotic. I hope you don’t mind.”

  “That’s fine,” I replied. “Whatever he wants will work for us.”

  “Excellent,” said Clark, smiling. “Please, go right ahead.”

  We did as she asked, sidestepping our way to the nearby room, avoiding the bustling members of the bridge crew as they went about their jobs.

  When we were standing inside the office, Billins turned to me. “Is there anything else I can do for you, sir?” he asked.

  “You got somewhere you need to be, Sergeant?” I asked.

  “Oh, well, I’m supposed to meet my team downstairs. They’re probably already waiting for me, and—”

  “Stick around a bit,” I replied, dismissing his concern. “We might need you for something.”

  Billins frowned, clearly disappointed. “I-If you wish, sir.”

  I went to the end of the conference table and pulled out the chair, taking a seat and leaning back. “Just hold tight, Billins,” I said, staring at the door. “The party’s about to start.”

  Thirteen

  Everyone in the room stiffened when the door opened.

  The female lieutenant entered first, a large pad in her hands. “And sensors show at least one other slip tunnel in this system. We’re looking for any signs of activity.”

  “In the meantime,” said General Marcus Brigham as he marched into the room, an air of preoccupation about him so thick I wondered if he even knew we were here, “I want a live feed of whatever those boys are seeing on that planet the exact second they disembark from those shuttles. Do you understand, Lieutenant?”