Colonial Prime_Humanity

by Kevin L. Nielsen

  Dr. Martin? That stunned Nathan as much as anything had up until then. Dr. Martin. Hadn’t she been the one calming the masses aboard ship? Hadn’t she fought with Sheawn Olliard on almost every topic? All an act. All…

  “Jaelyn!” Nathan said, voicing his thought as soon as it entered his mind.

  Li snorted, a sound that sounded wet and muted from the broken nose. Li winced and Nathan took that moment to take a quick step backward.

  “Hold still!” Li snapped. “Move again and I’ll drop you where you stand.”

  “If you were going to kill me, you would have done it already, instead of talking to me,” Nathan said, voice surprisingly calm of its own accord. Most men, when facing down the imminent threat of death, would have begged or pleaded for their lives. Nathan didn’t have a death wish, but he had realized the truth of his words as he spoke them. They needed something from him, or else he would be dead. That knowledge gave him leverage and leverage gave him power. It was one of his father’s favorite sayings.

  Li nodded slightly. “Yes, you’re right. We do need you, but not badly enough that your death would hamper our plans overly much. Dr. Martin has the kid, so our beloved captain will turn over control of the ship eventually. The fleet will follow her lead.”

  Nathan had to restrain himself. They had Jaelyn. Even though the boy wasn’t his, Nathan loved Amara as much as he loved anyone. Jaelyn was her son. Her flesh and blood. Nathan clenched his hands into fists at his side, careful to remain levelheaded and calm. At least on the outside.

  “Why? We have an honest chance to start fresh on a new planet. Why go back? Why not just let go and move on to a new life? Why hold on to the past?”

  “Why not? Our past shapes us. We owe it to our own histories to go back to Earth and finish the game that was started. Why start over when we can simply fix what was broken?”

  “Where does that end, Jackson?” Nathan asked, mind racing to try and figure out how to get away. Anger had given him clarity of thought, the rage pushing back the lingering buzz until it became a distant, ignorable hum. “Where does it end?”

  “For you,” Li said, “it ends here. Can’t have an Esquina rallying your late father’s followers now can we? I – ”

  An explosion cut off the rest of Li’s words. Nathan dove to the side, even as he watched a spot of bright red color appear on Li’s chest, fresh blood spilling out over the older, darker stain already present there. Nathan landed hard on his left shoulder, but rolled despite the pain and got to his feet, eyes searching out a weapon, any weapon. The former chief engineer slowly sank to his knees, chin dropping onto his chest. The concussion rifle dropped out of suddenly limp fingers to clatter dully against the metal floor.

  “Commander,” a heavily accented voice shouted. Rough hands wrapped around Nathan’s upper arm and lifted him to his feet. Nathan struggled, watching Li slump face-first onto the floor, then realized who was holding him.

  “Master Chief Kuthar?” Nathan barely heard himself speak. How many more explosions could his hearing take before permanent damage was done?

  The short Indian man nodded curtly, drawing an old-fashioned revolver from his belt. That must have been the explosion. A gunshot. In such a small, confined space, the sound of the revolver going off was amplified into a much louder, more pressing noise.

  “What’s happening?” Nathan shouted.

  “Mutiny, sir.”

  Obviously.

  “What’s the status of the ship? They have the captain in the Command Bubble and are trying to take over the ship.”

  Master Chief Kuthar nodded. “I know. Commander Chalmers and I have parties throughout the ship taking it back from those that seized it.”

  “I, what? How?”

  “I notice things, as the master chief. I heard the whisperings and knew what to wait for. Most people on this ship came for a new life. They were willing to fight for it, when told of the situation.”

  Nathan marveled, stunned. How had this man managed to do what he and Amara hadn’t? Why wasn’t he an officer? And, most importantly, what should they do now?

  “Orders, sir?” Master Chief Kuthar asked.

  “I should be asking you. I am in your debt, Master Chief.”

  “I’m not doing this for you, sir. Even though I won’t live to see it, this mission brings hope for a better tomorrow for the next generation. I’m doing this for them. For the memory of my own children who never got that chance. Orders, sir?”

  Nathan blinked, swallowing a lump in his throat.

  “Get some men and secure the engines,” Nathan said, bending down and retrieving the concussion rifle. “Hold them and, if you can, have a party meet me at the portside entrance to the Command Bubble in half an hour. I’ll get the computer back up enough to get some communications working.”

  “Yes, sir.” Master Chief Kuthar snapped off a quick salute and turned on a heel.

  Nathan licked his lips, fingering the rifle. When all this was done, they’d have to figure out some way of thanking that man. For now, they had to take back the ship. The first thing he had to do, then, was take away the opposition’s leverage.

  Jaelyn felt the cord begin to give, sweat mingling with blood and making his hands slick. Though he couldn’t see them, he knew his wrists were torn and raw, skin lacerated by the pressure of the cords against it. He watched the ebb and flow of people coming into the room. What seemed like dozens of them, reporting in from every section of the ship. Dr. Martin was at the heart of it all.

  Traitor!

  The thought burned through Jaelyn’s mind on a wave of anger, bitterness, and rage. He’d trusted her. He’d liked her. He’d…he’d been a fool. He could see it now, in retrospect; how easily she’d set herself up to be in this position now. Ingratiating herself to the captain by siding against Sheawn during public meetings, and again in front of Jaelyn himself. Pretending to be Jaelyn’s friend, just to get the ever-distrustful Amara to allow her to get close to him. He was a pawn in a massive, living chess game. Simply a piece to be moved.

  The cord snapped, giving way so suddenly Jaelyn wasn’t prepared for it. He lurched forward, then righted himself as quickly as he could, clasping his hands back together behind his back. Dr. Martin must have noticed the movement out of the corner of her eye. She looked over at him, frowning. Jaelyn looked away, holding his breath and willing her to look away.

  Don’t come over here. Don’t come…

  Wait. Maybe he did want her to come over. He looked up, meeting Dr. Martin’s cool green-blue eyes.

  “You were my hero, you know,” he said, letting a large measure of honest bitterness turn his words into a close approximation of a sneer. “Traitor.”

  Dr. Martin’s face clouded and she broke off the conversation she was having with a pair of middle-aged men carrying concussion rifles. She strode over to him and, just as before, hunkered down before him, her face only a few feet away from his.

  “Traitor, Jaelyn? It’s your mother who’s the traitor. The great war hero, savior of the world. She turned her back on the war, leaving it behind to lesser men and women. She could have been the face of the new world order. She could have been the greatest military threat against any opposition. But she left it all behind. Why?” Dr. Martin leaned closer. “For you, Jaelyn. She wanted you to have a better life.”

  “She’s a better person than you’ll ever be,” Jaelyn whispered.

  “What?” Dr. Martin leaned closer.

  Jaelyn struck, years of his mother’s constant training taking over. He whipped his head forward as hard and as fast as he could. His forehead connected with the bridge of Dr. Martin’s nose. He felt it shatter beneath his forehead and then intense pain shot through his head. He squeezed his eyes shut as his vision blurred, but struggled to his feet, hands flying forward to shove Dr. Martin, who was cursing between screams of pain, before running for the door. He wobbled slightly as he ran, his eyes watering with pain and his head throbbing with the beginning of a contact heada
che, but he made it to the door in less than the time it took to draw two breaths. It slid open and he slipped out into the hall a split second ahead of the sudden shouts from the stunned witnesses he’d just left behind.

  He didn’t look back, bolting down empty corridors as fast as he could. His booted footfalls echoed off the metal walls, announcing his presence to anyone who may have been listening, but he didn’t care. He simply ran. He heard the sound of pursuit within only a few short moments, but by then he’d put a decent distance between himself and the gardens. He turned left, then darted right again as soon as he was able, hoping to throw his pursuers off. He was in good shape, so he didn’t tire quickly, but the pounding in his head quickly became a fierce headache that swelled into a migraine in seconds. He stumbled as a wave of pain hit him, nearly falling into a wall.

  “Stop!” someone shouted from behind him.

  Jaelyn shoved himself off the wall and kept running, pushing aside the pain as best he could. A figure appeared in the hallway ahead of him.

  “Jaelyn, drop!” Commander Esquina shouted, raising a concussion rifle.

  Jaelyn flung himself to the ground, acting purely on instinct. He felt something pass over him, like a stiff breeze, followed by several thuds and clatters from behind him, then all was still. Jaelyn waited, panting. His head ached, his hands were numb, and he didn’t know what was going to happen next. They were all on a ship in the middle of open space. All anyone needed to do was break an airlock somewhere and their air would be vented into space. Realizing his thoughts were rambling, Jaelyn sucked in a deep breath and looked up.

  Commander Esquina knelt before him, hand extended. “Are you alright? How’d you get away?”

  Jaelyn accepted the proffered hand, trying to play it cool when Commander Esquina noticed the lacerations on his wrists and raised a curious eyebrow.

  “It’s not as bad as it looks, Commander,” Jaelyn muttered.

  “Hardly. There’s no time to look at it now, though. Follow me.” Commander Esquina turned on a heel and hurried down a side corridor. Jaelyn followed, then sped up so they were walking side by side.

  “Commander?” The sudden voice made Jaelyn jump before he realized it was coming from Commander Esquina’s wristband.

  “Yes, Master Chief?”

  “We’ve secured the engineering sections, sir. We have communications back up.”

  “I can hear that. What’s the status of the ship?”

  “Main computer systems are still down. There’s a power run which appears to have exploded down here that is causing minor malfunctions. The Command Bubble is locked down with no access in or out.”

  Commander Esquina swore. Jaelyn whole-heartedly agreed with the sentiment.

  “Sir?” The voice sounded again as Jaelyn and Commander Esquina approached one of the many ladders that led up to a higher deck.

  “Yes, Master Chief?”

  “The other ships in the convoy have been in communication with the rebels aboard Colonial Prime. It appears this was a coordinated effort across all the ships. Two of the vessels have broken formation and are moving into positions which would render us indefensible if they decide to fire upon us.”

  Commander Esquina swore again. Jaelyn felt the panic that had been subsiding up until that point flow back through him with full force, clutching at his chest with claws made of ice. His hand slipped on the ladder, but he caught himself quickly and pulled himself up after Commander Esquina.

  “Can we do anything to prevent it?”

  “Not without losing precious speed.” A new voice this time. Female.

  “Holly, is that you?” Commander Esquina sounded relieved.

  “You bet your sweet rear, Commander,” the woman said. “I can stop the other ships, or at least out maneuver them, but I’m going to need full access to the computer and we’re going to lose speed.”

  “Do it, Holly. I’ll get you the computer back.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Master Chief, is that squad ready at the Bubble?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “I’ll be there with Jaelyn in a few minutes. Have them ready.”

  Nathan rushed through the halls, mind racing. He’d never enjoyed ground combat, or any combat, for that matter. He’d much rather be working on an engine, or something mechanical, but he’d received the best hand-to-hand combat training in the Fleet. His father would be proud that Nathan was finally going to be putting it to use. And Nathan found he wasn’t afraid. Looking at the concern for his mother on Jaelyn’s face, a match for Nathan’s own concern for the woman he loved, he found only determination welling within. And a fierce, burning anger.

  “Stay back when we get to the Command Bubble,” Nathan said, glancing over at Jaelyn as they quick-stepped toward the bow of the massive craft. He kept his concussion rifle trained ahead of him, eyes darting back and forth across each corridor and side tunnel they passed. The ship was quiet, too quiet. Where were all the people the Master Chief said were on their side? Where were the other ships in relation to their own? What was Holly planning?

  “Not a chance,” Jaelyn said.

  “It’s going to be chaos in there. I’m not going to chance someone taking you out with a stray shot.”

  “It’s my mother in there.”

  “I know that. And I’ll get her out alive. I promise.” Nathan glanced down at the boy and was startled to see tears staining his cheeks. He stared up at Nathan with anger and defiance in his youthful features.

  “She’s my mother. Unless you’re going to tie me up and leave me somewhere, I’m going in. If you’re worried about me, give me a gun and point me in the right direction, but I’m going in with you.” Jaelyn’s voice was almost a snarl.

  Nathan felt a little of his anger and frustration boil up inside him and color the timbre of his voice. “Don’t make the mistake of thinking you’re the only one that loves her, Jaelyn. If something happened to you, she’d never forgive me.”

  “I…wait, what?” Jaelyn stopped dead in his tracks. Nathan stopped as well, confused and annoyed at the delay. “You and…my mother?”

  Comprehension dawned in Nathan’s mind. He hadn’t meant it to come out like that, but yes, that’s what he’d just said.

  “I don’t know if this is really the time or place for that discussion, Jaelyn, but yes, your mother and I. Now, let’s go. We don’t know how long she has.” Nathan gestured aft with the barrel of his rifle. Jaelyn worked his mouth a few times, as if searching for words that simply wouldn’t come or else didn’t exist. Then, after a moment, he shook his head and nodded.

  “Right, Commander, let’s go,” he said. Then added, “But if we live through this you and I are going to talk, sir.”

  “I look forward to it.”

  They ran on in silence. Nathan knew he hadn’t handled the situation well. Jaelyn finding out that he and his mother were more than just Captain and her Second in Command was a delicate bit of information and it should have come from Amara, not him. But it was too late for that now. The focus had to remain on staying alive and rescuing Amara. Nathan had no doubt whatsoever that none of them would make it out of this alive if the mutineers were able to achieve their ultimate goals.

  A dozen men and women waited for them at the end of the last corridor. Nathan hesitated for half a moment until he saw Master Chief Kuthar standing with the group, looking calm and collected as he always did, despite the situation.

  “Commander,” he said, nodding deferentially to Nathan.

  The group of men and women behind him snapped off salutes that contained varying degrees of precision. Nathan was surprised to see that most of them were dressed in the common work clothes of passengers rather than the uniforms of security personnel or crew. Asian stood alongside American, Hispanic alongside European. Yet each of them, including some as young as Jaelyn, held weapons, from concussion rifles to simple energy weapons—those typically meant for land combat—with a sure grip. Their expressions radiated determinatio
n.

  “Master Chief,” Nathan said, returning the salutes. “Who’s watching the engines?”

  “Commander Chalmers, sir.” Master Chief Kuthar still held his large pistol in one hand, the weapon reflecting the dull corridor lights. Nathan allowed himself to wonder where the man would have gotten such a weapon, but dismissed it almost immediately. Did it matter?

  “When all this is done, you’ll have to tell me how you got everyone to work together without argument.”

  “None of us want to go back, Commander,” a young woman said. “Yeah, we haven’t been so good at getting along, but we all want a new life. We’re tired of the war. We want to start over.”

  A chorus of affirmations sounded from the rest of the group.

  “Just took us losin’ the hope of having that for us to remember why we left in the first place, I guess.” The speaker was a man in the back. Nathan couldn’t tell what his nationality was. “I weren’t happy to be in among the people who killed my family, no sir. But we’re all one family now. We’re moving to a new place, sir. We’re starting over. For our kids. For a future with peace.”

  “That’s right!” the first woman said. “Guess we all just needed to realize we have the same goal, in the end.”

  Nathan shook his head, marveling. Both he and Amara had been saying that since the very first day. It took nearly losing it all, a mutiny aboard ship, for them to realize it? Nathan pushed the thought aside. Now wasn’t the time for that either.

  “Let’s get along then. I’m sure they’ll have guards in the corridors leading up to the Bubble, so we’ll need to take care of those. Stay low and be careful. We can’t afford to lose anyone else, alright?”

  They all nodded and Nathan took a moment to memorize each face, locking it in his mind. He wasn’t sure what would come of this, or who would make it out of this alive, but he wanted to remember these men and women. This was the defining moment of their new lives. This moment of decision would determine the fate of their little colony.