Fleetfoot Interstellar: Fleetfoot Interstellar Series, Book 1

by P. Joseph Cherubino

  “Gholss! Retract the booms. Prepare the crew for immediate sortie, coordinates; Kelgar 7. Battle stance readiness!”

  The reply was immediate. “Command received!”

  Sirens wailed throughout the ship. The lighting in Sslolg’s cabin changed from bright yellow to angry red. The floor lurched beneath him as his command produced immediate action. The movement told him that his crew moved faster than the inertia field adjustment. Instead of draining venom, this time, Sslolg allowed the unspent poison to metabolize. He wanted the venom to drive him now. His war finally arrived.

  17

  The last few minutes on the engineered jungle floor were a confusing blur. Drexler was aware of violence that shredded the fast-grow foliage to reveal the dry soil beneath. His helmet comm system blared with operatic voices singing tuneless songs of destruction and peril. The sounds of ion thrusters formed a bass section in a symphony of violence, punctuated with the percussion of rail rifles.

  Drexler remembered diving for Gajrup, who was diving for Dewey. The insect was writing in the low, green underbrush. Half his left wing was gone. The brown fluid that passed for something like blood sprayed from what was left of the wing and oozed from a hole in his shell. As Drexler dove, he remembered a flash of violet light and what felt like a fist striking his left shoulder. It was a hard fist, with a dismaying amount of strength behind it. He was hit. Drexler thought then that he should have been dead. But he was not. The suit somehow protected him.

  Even sheathed in the armored flight suits, Gajrup’s body felt soft when Drexler landed on him. The engineer ignored Drexler’s desperate orders to stay down and still. Instead, Gajrup clawed his way to Dewey. Drexler didn't know what else to do, so he joined Gajrup in lying atop the wounded insect to keep him from jumping up into an intensifying wall of fire.

  Words on the comm system lost all meaning to Drexler. He expected to die at any moment. Before he reached Dewey, he made out hostile shapes moving toward them. There was something about reinforcements on the way, but he couldn’t be sure. All he could understand was the overwhelming sights and sounds of death. It was like nothing he’d ever experienced. Somehow, he had time to think of Samuel and wonder how he survived so many events like this.

  An alarming blue flash of light made the pile of bodies of which Drexler was part stop for an instant, even the gravely wounded insect. A moment later, the enemy transport was streaking away high above the treetops. The craft spewed black smoke. The right side of its fuselage was missing, with the jagged edges of its rent hull glowing white hot. It looked as if some gigantic creature had bitten it like an apple. The ground shook a few seconds later when, unseen, the craft burned into the jungle. Drexler was too terrified to feel relieved.

  Drexler was certain he was dead when he saw four Reptilians suddenly step into the flattened thicket. They were twenty meters away. Even from that distance, Drexler could see precisely where the tips of their rifles pointed. But they didn’t fire his way. One of them fell forward spewing meat, blood and shattered armor. The others turned around and knelt down to aim back from where they came. They also fell.

  Five figures quickly replaced the Reptilians. They were human. None of them wore helmets, but they did wear some type of black uniforms. Four of the faces were brown and carried distinctly Indian features. The other face was pale and capped by a shock of blond, almost white hair. Drexler recognized them. They were new crew members. But why did they have rifles? That was odd. Drexler managed to have the thought even as the jungle exploded again.

  Three of the soldiers peeled off to take cover behind tree trunks while two ran toward Drexler. One was tall, a woman with long, black hair. The other was a shorter woman with shorter hair. The physical opposites made a strange pair in the increasingly surreal environment.

  “Get up! Get up!” the tall woman shouted. Drexler could have heard her even without the suit’s amplification. “We are out of time! They are coming!”

  Just then, Reggie’s shuttle appeared above the tree line.

  “Listen to her, Drexler! Reggie shouted,” Reggie never shouted. At least, Drexler had never heard the AI shout before. He sounded desperate. “I can’t set down here! There is a small clearing at the base of the ridge that is close to everyone. Meet me there”

  “How about some cover fire!” the tall woman shouted.

  “Not enough energy. Used all I could spare on the enemy shuttle. Besides, everything I have would be just as fatal to you as the enemy.” Reggie replied. Now Drexler was truly puzzled. Since when did his AI carry weapons?

  The tall woman kicked Drexler in the hip. “Get up, you idiot!” she shouted. Drexler got up. He was angry. He was about to stick his finger in her face when he a large group of Reptilians appeared in the jungle. They made their way leapfrog-style from tree trunk to tree trunk, taking up firing positions along the way as they advanced.

  Tara and Huey appeared from nowhere and joined the three soldiers holding them off. The insects gripped tree trunks fired at the enemy from the high canopy, and the Human soldiers fired from the forest floor. Gajrup struggled to get Dewey on his feet.

  “He’s a lot heavier than he looks! Help me!” Gajrup said. The request gave Drexler something else to do, so he refrained from confronting the woman who kicked him.

  They dragged Dewey through the jungle to the clearing where Reggie set down. Samuel was already there in a prone position. He picked off reptiles as they came, giving the entire crew just enough time to board Reggie’s shuttle. Rifle rounds plinked against the hull as Reggie turned the shuttle nose up and streaked away into the sky.

  Drexler stood breathing heavy at the front of the shuttle. The helmet of his flight jacket deflated to a regular hood again, hanging loosely over the back of his collar. With a trembling hand, he unzipped the jacket front and fumbled for the secret contraband pocket. He removed the cigar and an antique gas-fueled lighter. Drexler bit the end off of the cigar and spat it on the floor.

  “Did you just spit a cigar end on my deck, Drexler?” Reggie asked imperiously.

  “Yes, Reggie. I sure did.” Drexler replied as he lit the cigar.

  The scene playing out in the rest of the shuttle was just as chaotic as the jungle floor. Samuel struggled to hold down Dewey, who was panicked with pain and fear. The soldier with the pale face was also wounded. Half his face appeared to be missing from the right eye socket to the bottom of his jaw. Samuel ordered someone, anyone, to hold Dewey down so he could get a look at the wounded human. Two of the male Indian soldiers complied.

  “The round grazed him. It’s bad, but the bullet just took the flesh with it.” Samuel said. ”The bone is intact. I need to put him out and get him in a regen rig. He’ll be fine in a couple weeks. Bad scar, though.”

  The soldier was annoyed. His glassy eyes rolled around in his head and he pushed Samuel’s hands away.

  “Fuch you, chod damish …” the soldier slurred, and tried to stagger to his feet. “I’m fuching finnsh …” Shock, and the tattered ribbons of flesh hanging from his face made him seem drunk. He asked for his rifle, and even gave his commanding officer a shove in the process. Drexler took a long drag on his cigar, making his head spin. His eyes bounced around the cabin like a rubber ball. Samuel cursed and tried to reason with the wounded human. Drexler puffed away.

  “Doctor,” Reggie said, “I’ve prepared syringes of antibiotics and a sedative for the human. I will have a fluid replacement for the Insectoid in under five minutes. Scans indicate the Human vital signs are stable, but the Insectoid is showing signs of organ failure.”

  Samuel wasted no time retrieving the sedative and applying it to the back of the wounded Human's neck. The man fell like a rag doll into the ready arms of his crew mates. Samuel moved to apply a compress to the gore.

  “Don’t worry,” First Sergeant Kaur said, waving Samuel away. “He’s stable. The Insect is not. We can keep him alive until you’re ready.” Samuel was already moving to Dewey before Kaur finished her sente
nce.

  Gajrup stood over Dewey weeping freely and silently. Tara and Huey bookended him with their hands on his shoulders. One of the Indian crew and the tall woman held Dewey down so Samuel could work on him. They managed to calm Dewey enough to be examined. Samuel went to work. The tall woman, who Drexler realized was in charge of her group, lifted her head and sniffed the air. She followed the cloud of smoke to Drexler.

  “Would you mind extinguishing whatever that foul thing is?” the woman said, standing two feet from Drexler. She stood several inches taller than him and her eyes were almost black, like coal and just as coarse. Drexler locked those eyes with his own.

  “Reggie,” he said with a toneless voice, “Filter the air in my immediate area.” An instant later, a cool breeze pulled smoke from the air. Drexler puffed on the cigar, drew in some smoke, and released the rest into the tall woman’s face. She glared at him, obviously trying to restrain herself from striking him. Drexler was very familiar with such looks. He’d been drawing them from people since he was old enough to walk.

  “You are not a professional astronaut.” Drexler said.

  “And you are not a freighter captain.”

  “Funny, my license says otherwise.”

  “Let’s not play this game. You will tell me where your father is, as well as the location of his stolen ship.” Drexler managed to conceal his shock. He had no idea the ship in question, that his father separated from Reggie, was stolen.

  “Even if I knew that, lady, I wouldn’t do that for two reasons. First, if I see that son-of-a-bitch again, I’m liable to kill him. Second, you are in no position to make demands, no matter how well-armed you are. This is my operation, and you are stowaways, plain and simple.”

  “I am on official BJP Empire business under Trade Union Authority.”

  “In case you haven't noticed, lady, you’re a long way from ‘Trade Union Authority’. I think the people trying to kill us shoulda made that clear.”

  “If I may correct you, Lieutenant Darzi,” Reggie interrupted, “I should point out that it is very likely you are no longer a member in good standing of the BJP Military.”

  The woman’s face went slack. “What did you do …”

  “I made several inquiries as to your status with the BJP authorities.”

  “No...”

  “Oh, yes,” Reggie continued. “Their denials were quite strenuous. They made it very clear that your actions were not sanctioned.”

  “You lied to me.” Darzi said. She leaned heavily against a control console. “You bastard. We had a deal. You said you wouldn’t reveal our mission.”

  “No, I did not lie. My actions were well within our agreement. I simply asked some basic questions regarding BJP citizens serving on a private merchant vessel. Nothing more than routine security checks, well within the bounds of any company to ask. I simply answered their return questions as they came.”

  “You got us disavowed.”

  “Reggie, what are you talking about?” Drexler asked.

  “Captain,” Reggie replied. Drexler nearly staggered back and choked on his cigar smoke when the AI used his title without the usual sarcastic tone. “These five are, or were, BJP spies assigned to our crew.”

  “Huh,” Drexler grunted. He flashed his classic Drexler smile at Lieutenant Darzi. “I thought they were just plain mercenaries.” He turned to Darzi, said, “Sounds like you could use a job.”

  “Well,” Reggie said, “They are already on the payroll, albeit under false names.”

  “Hence the stowaway status,” Drexler said, raising his cigar for emphasis.

  Lieutenant Darzi hung her head.

  “Captain,” Reggie said with sudden urgency, “we have a problem.”

  “We have nothing but problems!” Drexler exclaimed, turning from the defeated Darzi to sit at the forward console. “Talk to me, Reggie.”

  “The Reptilian freighter is moving to attack me.” Reggie said. Drexler knew the AI referred to the main ship, and not the shuttle. It got confusing when Reggie split his programming.

  “Freighters don’t attack …” Drexler replied, chomping down on his cigar as he worked the console. He brought up all the stats from the main ship.

  “Poor choice of words. You are right. It is a war ship.”

  “What are you waiting for?” Drexler asked, with no small amount of concern.

  “The shuttle is not blinkpoint capable. If you want to get back to the ship, I have to stay at low nearlight speed, no faster than three-quarter.”

  “Yeah, so?”

  “That enemy ship is much faster.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Long story,” Reggie replied. “Let’s just say our stowaway crew made that possible.”

  “Huh?” Reggie said.

  “They have a device. I hacked it … can we just get to the point?”

  “OK, then what is your damn point?”

  “I have to fight.”

  The cigar almost fell from Drexler’s mouth. The AI had always been larcenous and sometimes showed anger, but it had never been violent. The prospect of an ungoverned AI was scary, but one with command of armament was utterly terrifying.

  “Reggie,” Drexler asked with care, “What are you saying?”

  “I am saying that I have weapons and I need your permission to use them.”

  “Did my father …”

  “I don’t know. All I know is that I have weapons and I don’t know how.”

  Drexler made an instant decision. “Do not use them. Do not destroy that ship unless our crew is in mortal danger. I have another way.”

  “Affirmative, Captain.” Reggie replied with that oddly respectful tone again.

  Drexler pulled up the stats on Reggie’s main body. He studied the sensor readings of the opposing craft. Reggie was right. The energy levels displayed by the Reptilian craft were off the charts. Heat signatures of the reactor core, and particle emissions coming from the Reptilian emitters were consistent with a ship underway during nearlight travel. This ship was holding place, but its physical attitude was bow-forward in relation to Reggie. That’s when the idea came to Drexler.

  “Open channel to First Officer!” Drexler barked.

  “Mumlo here. Where the hell are you?” the gravelly bass grumble of Mumlo’s voice poured through the public comm and filled the forward shuttle section.

  “No time to explain. I need you to move out now. You are all in danger.”

  “They told us you were arrested. Tried to board us. I told them no way. Crew agrees.”

  “Never mind all this If you don’t move out, you’re all dead.” Drexler replied, and flicked his index finger across the console to transmit a schematic of the enemy ship.

  “What am I seeing?” Mumlo said. His voice spoke a question with its own embedded answer. Mumlo knew what he was looking at, but he could not believe it. “This can’t be a warship…” He trailed off, and before Drexler had a chance to order his retreat again, Mumlo shouted, “All hands! Prepare to launch! Emergency stations, full power, all systems! Scramble!”

  “Mumlo,” Drexler said, “I need you to head for New Detroit, get a crew together and kill the transponders right now. You need to go silent running from now on. If I don’t make it back, I need you to find Harvard Yalu in New Detroit. He’ll know what to do.”

  A frightening pause hung in space. Drexler feared Mumlo would not understand. The next words told him that Mumlo understood too well. “So, this is war.”

  Drexler couldn’t reply, but Darzi could. She knew the answer. Her presence over Drexler’s shoulder escaped his notice. She was watching the information he pulled up with great interest. “Yes, I’m afraid that this is war.”

  Drexler recovered himself long enough to say, “Mumlo, head for New Detroit. Make your way at three-quarter light speed. If you don’t hear from us by the time you clear the heliosphere, make the blink and don’t look back.” and he closed the channel.

  “You realize,” Darzi said wi
th puzzlement and a wry grin that seemed familiar to Drexler, as it closely resembled his own, “that you likely just ordered your own death.”

  “Possibly,” Drexler replied. “But I’m counting on the strongest profit motive.”

  Darzi reversed her lean over Drexler’s shoulder. She put one hand on her hip, cocked her head, asked, “What are you saying, now?”

  “If you want to earn continued existence, you’ll help me find a way to board that Lizard spacecraft and take it.”

  The shuttle filled with the sound of Reggie’s laughter, and Drexler grinned wide enough to make the laugher seem like his own.

  18

  The new Queen Guardian herself appeared outside on the Promenade of the Foundation Leaf to see them off. In the space of a few weeks, the new Queen had grown taller and her shell was nearly opaque. The Metamorphosis from princess to Queen happened quickly. Both the new Queen and Fourseven understood that the change meant the end of their hive. Without consuming the body of the former Queen, the new Queen would not be able to reproduce. The creature emerging from the Hive structure represented the last of an ancient family.

  But Fourseven knew this would only be true if her mission failed. If her vision was true, then Fourseven would return with the genetic material necessary to rejuvenate not only her former hive, but the entirety of the Insectoid Genome. The Great Predictor told that the Lost Colony had in its possession this restorative power. And now, the former Queen Guardian, now known as General Fourseven, would lead the expedition to find this Colony.

  “Great Mother,” the new Queen began, addressing Fourseven with her former title. The General opened her mandibles to object to the honorific, but the look from her army’s leader told her to remain silent. The new Queen continued after the applause from the Winged and the Arachnids alike died down. “It is by your grace and sacrifice that I hold the mantle of our Hive.