Colonial Prime_Humanity

by Kevin L. Nielsen

  “Master Chief,” Nathan said, pushing to the head of the group. “Take the rear with Jaelyn. And Master Chief, have someone give him a rifle.”

  If Master Chief Kuthar thought those orders strange, he didn’t say anything. Instead, he snapped a quick salute, gestured for Jaelyn to follow him, and grabbed a concussion rifle held out by one of the group members as they passed. The weapon looked large in Jaelyn’s hands, but the boy held it with the ease and confidence of one who had practiced with it. Trust Amara to train her son in such things.

  “Let’s go, and may whatever deity you believe in watch over all of us,” Nathan said, and started down the corridor.

  Amara watched with growing trepidation through the Command Bubble’s glass as two of their sister ships cut ahead of them, moving into positions that would effectively block Colonial Prime from continuing in their forward motion. It seemed that whatever it was Sheawn and his cronies had planned, it spanned the entire colonial fleet. The premeditation of it all was as clear as the fear hanging thick in the Command Bubble. Amara cursed herself for not taking the blowhard admiral more seriously, but he’d clearly mastered a level of deception far greater than she’d anticipated.

  A door slid open, drawing Amara’s gaze. A small group of people entered the room, four men with concussion rifles surrounded a fifth individual that Amara couldn’t quite make out from her position on the floor. Sheawn hurried over in that direction. Amara pursed her lips, curious who it could be and hoping it wasn’t Jaelyn. She wasn’t sure she could handle them torturing him. Her stomach turned at the very thought.

  “Leave it, Sheawn,” a muffled voice that Amara nevertheless recognized snapped. “I’ll be fine.”

  Dr. Alexis Martin stepped through the press of bodies, walking up to Amara with a clearly hostile spring in her step. The woman’s face was a mess of hastily and poorly cleaned blood below her nose and massive bruises were forming around her eyes. The nose itself lay swathed in white bandages, though it was clear what had happened. Someone had broken the woman’s nose. Amara felt her anger and bile rise as the woman stared down at her with a soft, muted anger in her expression. Fires blazed behind the bruised eyes, smoldering in sharp contrast to the darkening patches beneath them.

  “Amara,” the woman said with a slight nod.

  “I should have known Sheawn didn’t have the brains to pull this off.”

  Sheawn made a disgruntled noise, but Dr. Martin held up a hand silencing him before he could speak.

  “I hear they took you rather easily. I’m surprised. Your reputation speaks much more highly of your self-defensive capabilities.”

  Amara didn’t answer. Questions passed through her own mind, wondering how and why this woman could do this, but she retained her silence. The answers didn’t matter. Not anymore. What mattered now was what was going to happen next.

  “I tire of all the fighting, Amara,” Dr. Martin said. “And I tire of being made a mockery of. Someone has taken control of the engines and there are reports of groups moving through the ship, taking out my men.” Amara felt a rush of hope and pride, but quelled it in moments. “This is irritating. I think they forget there are multiple ships in this convoy. I am willing to die for my cause, if I must, as are my men. Give me the command codes to turn this ship around or I’ll simply contact my associates on our sister ships and blow a hole in the side of this ship. Try resisting when the oxygen is being vented into space.” She said it coldly, so matter of factly, Amara knew she meant every word. She didn’t care if she died. She didn’t care the cost. She was devoted to her cause. A fanatic.

  “If you’re just going to kill me anyway, what point is there in giving up the codes? Why would I help you?”

  Dr. Martin grinned, and it was the look of a predator menacing its prey. Amara had only once before been on the receiving end of such a look, though she’d given it several times over her military career.

  “Well, I can imagine at least two reasons why. One gave me this broken nose and, let me assure you, I will return the favor as soon as I find him.”

  “And the second?”

  “The child inside you, or its father. Take your pick.”

  The fear Amara had felt up to this point died beneath a blanket of absolute, uncontrollable terror.

  Nathan nearly shot the woman that appeared suddenly around a corner. The woman let out a little yelp as a pair of men grabbed her and pulled her back, guns leveled on her the whole time.

  “What are you doing here?” Nathan whispered, glancing around the corner. They were only a single corridor away from the main entrance to the Command Bubble. Their group had already had to wait for Dr. Martin’s group to pass, hiding in the shadows of a side passage as she’d walked by. The bruises on the traitor’s face made Nathan smile at the time. Jaelyn had certainly done his job well.

  The woman’s eyes were wide and her whole body shook with what Nathan took to be fear. She wore a long white coat over her crew jumpsuit uniform, but Nathan didn’t recognize her.

  “I – I umm – I…” the woman stammered and swallowed hard, gaze darting to the weapons trained on her and then back to Nathan, confusion and fear plain in her posture and expression.

  “Dr. Phillips?”

  Nathan turned as Master Chief Kuthar walked up, Jaelyn at his side. Nathan arched an eyebrow at the man, who held up a hand forestalling any questions.

  “What are you doing here, Doctor?” Master Chief Kuthar asked, repeating Nathan’s question.

  “I – I was down with the others, as you instructed, when I heard that the captain had been captured.” Dr. Phillips licked her lips and glanced first at Jaelyn and then back to the master chief. “I – can’t say why, but she may be in need of my services.”

  Master Chief Kuthar’s eyebrows went up, about as blatant an expression as Nathan had ever seen on the man’s face, but he nodded and turned to Nathan. “Commander, Dr. Phillips is a woman of impeccable honor. I take her under my responsibility, if you please, sir.”

  Nathan nodded, looking in question at the man. His expression didn’t change.

  “Very well, Doctor,” Nathan said. “Stay with the master chief. Did you happen to see how many guards are down the corridor you just passed through?”

  Dr. Phillips licked her lips and nodded, again looking at Jaelyn before responding. “Three outside the door. All armed.”

  “Thank you. Alright, let’s get this over with, then. Any chance someone has a couple concussion grenades handy?” He looked around hopefully, forcing a smile. A few people chuckled, but everyone shook their heads. “Head on it is, then.”

  “Wait,” Dr. Phillips said, putting a restraining hand on Nathan’s arm. “You’re not just going to run in there shooting, are you?”

  “Do you know a better way?” Nathan asked, readying his rifle.

  The woman met his gaze with tear-filled eyes, concern playing with fear in her eyes. Nathan was surprised at how much older the woman looked than he’d first thought, perhaps in her early forties but still looking younger than him. She licked her lips and glanced back at Master Chief Kuthar again.

  “If you have something to say, Doctor,” the master chief said, “I urge you to say it. There may not be another chance.”

  Dr. Phillips swallowed hard and leaned forward, clearly wanting to speak so only Nathan could hear. Out of the corner of his eye, Nathan noticed both Master Chief Kuthar and Jaelyn lean forward as well.

  “Captain Amara is with child,” the woman whispered. “If you go in there firing with abandon, you could hit her. A blast from a concussion rifle, even a low powered one, would kill the baby. Maybe it’s pointless already, but - well, I wouldn’t want to take that risk.”

  Pregnant? Stunned disbelief washed through Nathan, rendering him speechless. Too many emotions to identify thundered through him and he felt suddenly light headed. Pregnant? He was going to be a father?

  “Pregnant?” Jaelyn said, voice almost thunderous by comparison to the whisper. “You g
ot my mother pregnant, Commander?”

  It took Nathan half a moment to process what Jaelyn had said, but the moment of realization pulled him out of his mental introspection with the force of a blown airlock. He looked up and found all eyes in the corridor on him, the silence between them all both heavy and thick. Nathan didn’t know what to say.

  Master Chief Kuthar cleared his throat, breaking the silence. Dr. Phillips lowered her head and stepped back, clearly wanting to stay away from whatever was about to happen.

  “We have more pressing concerns than personal squabbles, right now, Mr. Corrin,” Master Chief Kuthar said to Jaelyn, then turned to Nathan. “Commander, I recommend that we first assault the guards at the entrance and then regroup at that time. I may have an idea that will address Dr. Phillips’s concern.”

  Nathan nodded, grateful for the shift in attention away from him. “Thank you, Master Chief. That is a solid recommendation. Let’s move out!”

  Pushing aside the tumble of thoughts and emotions bouncing around within him, Nathan took up the lead as they charged.

  Being at the rear of the group, Jaelyn didn’t see when the lead gunners attacked, but he did hear the sound of bodies hitting the ground over the muted sounds of footfalls against the metal floor. The master chief, a man who was far more astute than he seemed at first glance, ran at his side, heavy revolver held low in one hand. Dr. Phillips nearly clung to him as she followed, face white and wan.

  His mother was pregnant. Commander Esquina had…was…

  His mother was pregnant!

  Jaelyn pushed the thoughts aside, following the group as they surrounded the doorway into the Command Bubble. The girl from the gardens, Kathryn, was among the group, but he hadn’t done more than nod back when she’d acknowledged him there. The shooters made sure to stand far enough back from the door to not activate the proximity alarm. Commander Esquina was in the process of disabling it as Jaelyn walked forward with the master chief. Three bodies lay on the ground, still and unmoving. Some of the men in Jaelyn’s group were collecting the concussion rifles that had fallen, handing one to Dr. Phillips.

  “The alarm is disabled,” Commander Esquina said in a low voice, putting the small access panel back on the wall. “What’s your plan, Chief?”

  “Jordan,” Master Chief Kuthar said, “come here, please.”

  A thin, older man stepped from the group and came forward. He wore the dull uniform of a maintenance worker, though his eyes were bright.

  “Yes, sir?” he asked.

  “Where is the access hatch to the ventilation shaft running through the Command Bubble?”

  “Ventilation shaft?” Commander Esquina asked, “What good is that going to do us? It’s tiny.”

  The master chief ignored him, gesturing for the maintenance worker, Jordan, to show them. The thin man nodded and moved around Commander Esquina to a section of metal wall that looked no different than the rest of the corridor, tapping a section of it with his knuckles. It rang softly, a distinctly hollow sound.

  “Here, sir. There’s an open section here behind the wall. You have to shimmy through until you get to the vertical shaft, but it’s here.”

  “Open it up, please.”

  The man pulled a thin metal rod from his pocket and, with a few deft twists, popped the metal plating off the wall, revealing wires, pipes, and a small space beneath them barely wide enough for a particularly small adult to pass through. Or maybe a child…

  “Hold my rifle, Master Chief,” Jaelyn said, shrugging out of his uniform’s light overcoat and letting it fall to the floor.

  “What?” Commander Esquina said, stepping forward. “Why?”

  “Do you know anyone else that can fit in that?” Jaelyn asked, pointing at the narrow shaft. “It was designed for a probe or a remote droid of some sort, not a person. I assume the shaft in the Bubble is a little wider than this?”

  The maintenance worker, Jordan, nodded. “It’s wider, but not quite so tall. You’ll have to contort oddly, but you’ll fit just fine. Good luck, kid.”

  Jaelyn nodded, accepting his rifle back from the master chief.

  “Wait, do you even know how to use that?” Commander Esquina asked. Jaelyn spun on the man, the torrent of emotions he’d been suppressing until that moment flooding out of him in a rush.

  “Better than you, I expect. I’ve spent my whole life with my mother constantly badgering me to learn everything I can about being a soldier and protecting myself. I’m certified in three different forms of hand-to-hand combat and over a dozen weapons. Why? Because of what she went through in the prison camps where I was conceived. You’d know that, if you’d ever thought to ask when you were over gallivanting with my mother. Now, if you’ll shut up and get out of my way, I have work to do.”

  The look on Commander Esquina’s face was simply priceless. He looked completely at a loss for words, mouth working. Then he blinked, and nodded.

  “Good luck, Jaelyn. Shoot straight. Dial the focus as narrow as you can and make sure your mother stays safe, ok?”

  Jaelyn grunted and got down on his knees, pushing the concussion rifle into the small passage ahead of him.

  “You, your name was Jordan, was it?” Commander Esquina said. “How long would it take for Jaelyn to get through to where he could fire down into the room?”

  “There’s three vents around the room, spaced evenly. Best one to shoot from’d be the top one, but it depends on where the people in the room are standing, I guess. Ten minutes, maybe?” Jordan shrugged.

  “You have ten minutes, Jaelyn,” Commander Esquina said, squatting down next to him. “Shoot anyone that comes close to her.”

  Jaelyn nodded and slid into the narrow space.

  Amara’s head whipped toward the portside entrance to the Command Bubble. Had someone just tried to enter? No, those muted thumps were the sound of falling bodies. She knew the sound well enough from her experiences in the war.

  “Sheawn,” Dr. Martin said, lounging against the rail near where Amara sat. “Go see who’s trying to pay us a visit, will you? Take a squad.”

  Men rushed toward the doorway, weapons at the ready. The door didn’t open. Dr. Martin swore.

  “Alex,” someone said, “the ship is moving. It’s launched both energy weapons and missiles at our two ships.”

  Amara felt her heart leap into her throat. Who was firing?

  Nathan.

  Somehow, she knew he was behind it, in some form or another. But they must also be in desperate straits indeed if he was comfortable with firing on two ships at once. The odds of surviving a lopsided endeavor such as this were slim, even with the element of surprise. All it took was one stray shot and they’d all be exposed to the vacuum of space.

  “Move! Tell them to move. Don’t fire back. We can’t risk the ships getting damaged!” Dr. Martin scrambled to the nearest console, shoving the person there out of the way. “Delta, Omega, come in, this is Colonial Prime. Don’t fire back. I repeat, don’t fire back. Hold!”

  Amara craned her neck, looking out through the DuraGlass. Tiny streaks of light shot out across the darkness, like shooting stars. In her periphery, Amara saw them hit, exploding against the sides of the other colonial ships blocking their path. Whoever had fired the missiles had also taken them off course, shifting them thirty degrees along the y-axis and slightly to one side. She felt a delightful satisfaction at seeing Dr. Martin’s look of panic and frustration.

  “They’ve hit the weapons array on both ships, weapons are inoperable on both the Delta and Omega.” Sheawn’s voice. He’d run back from the blocked doorway and was leaning over a different console a little further down.

  “Seems that not everyone shares your desire to head back,” Amara said, pitching her voice to carry over the noise and chaos now rampant in the room. If she could keep the woman distracted, whoever was blockading the door would have more time to do whatever it was they were planning. “If you give up now, I can assure you safe passage for the remainder of our
voyage to Villa Nova. In the brig, of course.”

  Dr. Martin barely glanced at her. “Villa Nova? That’s what you’re calling it?”

  “It’s as good a name as any. Not very original, a bit on the nose, but I think it will work.”

  “Sheawn, take a squad and go to the engine room. Use the other door. That’s the only place they can be doing this from.” Dr. Martin’s words were almost a shout. Sheawn hurried off, passing between Amara and Dr. Martin as he rushed by. “You’re mistaken, Captain, if you think this is over.”

  Without warning, Dr. Martin picked up a handgun, the kind with actual bullets, and shot the crewman next to Amara. The bullet took him in the chest and he fell with barely a sound. The echoing retort of Dr. Martin’s shot resounded off the DuraGlass dome.

  “Give me the codes to unlock the ship’s computer or I start killing crewmen one at a time.”

  The cramped confines of the original access tunnel had given way to a much wider vent when Jaelyn had reached the side of the Command Bubble. He’d nearly cursed the man, Jordan, for not warning him about the thick grate there, and again when he’d nearly fallen down the steep shaft on the other side. Apparently, the ventilation shaft went down as well as up. He was now making his way up the shaft, rifle slung over one shoulder, but placed before him as he kept his back pressed up against one wall and his feet up against the other.

  The climb wasn’t terribly difficult, but Jaelyn kept playing over scenarios in his mind, wondering what could be going on in the room below him. His mother was pregnant. Commander Esquina was the father. What would that mean for Jaelyn? What was more, what was going on inside the room?

  Sweat beaded on Jaelyn’s forehead and dripped down to soak his shirt, making it slick against the metal ventilation wall. A stiff breeze seemed to push at his back, making the sweat-stained shirt seem cool against his skin. Twice he almost lost the concussion rifle, but he caught it just in time. What little light there was in the shaft filtered down from above or else emanated from his wristband, which was slowly ticking away the ten minutes he’d originally started with.