Lee eased the fighter down to the floor level. He turned the ship on its vertical axis and spun gently so that he entered the garage sideways. He activated the onboard landing struts and waited until he felt the click of the gear as it locked into place. Centering the ship on a circle of reflective paint on the floor, he set the fighter down as gently as he could. He owed the ship his life and he wanted to make sure it knew he was grateful.
The garage doors closed silently in the vacuum. The deck shuddered as the doors closed tight. There was a faint hiss as local gravity reasserted itself. As atmosphere quickly pressurized the repair garage, he began to hear the warning klaxon through the clear plexi-steel of his canopy.
As soon as the pressurization equalized, Lee pressed the release for his harness. He powered down the ship’s life support system and activated the canopy release. The flood of cool air into his cockpit made him realize just how hot the ship’s interior had become. The pressure alarm automatically silenced as he lifted himself out of his ship.
“That was some serious insane flying,” announced a voice from the rear of the garage.
Lee stepped onto the wing of his ship and looked at the woman who had spoken. It was the deckhand who had helped him into his ship before the battle. She was still wearing the cruise ship’s formal uniform, a royal blue tunic with gold epaulets and red trim, and had her arms crossed over her chest. As Lee jumped onto the deck, he noticed that she was just slightly taller than he was, and her blonde hair, tied up when he had seen her last, was now loose and falling over her shoulders.
“Desperation is a great motivator when you are being chased by genocidal bugs,” he said to the woman, pulling off his helmet. “I was lucky they were just escorts. Ch’Tauk fighter pilots are the best out there. These guys were just cops.”
She looked beyond his shoulder at the Eagle fighter and whistled.
“She’ll never be pretty again,” she said.
Lee turned back to his ship, grimacing as he saw the scorch marks along her tail. While the ship had once been a gold-brown color, she was now the color of the metal composite she was made from. The wing facing him had a deep hole carved across it where he had allowed the escorts to hit him. The once smooth metal now looked rippled as if it had started to melt and then quickly cooled.
“Umm,” he started to say. “That’ll buff out.”
The two looked at each other appraisingly for a moment, and then the woman cracked a smile that instantly brightened her face. She extended a pile of clothes towards him. He recognized his discarded uniform.
“Alice,” she introduced herself. “Alice Bennett. I’m the Alpha Shift deck boss. I haven’t seen you in here before.”
“Commander Lee Pearce. Thanks. I usually practice during Gamma Shift,” he explained. “It’s quieter and Pete lets me stay out late.”
Peter Davit was the late-night bay manager for the Terran Princess, and the two men had formed an odd friendship over the years. Pete kept Pearce’s ship ready and fueled, but stowed away from the passenger shuttles that lined the deck. Lee, meanwhile, brought Davit fresh coffee and biscuits from the ship’s cafeteria. The two men rarely spoke to each other, but considered each other friends.
“I see,” she said. “Well, Commander, the captain wants you to meet him at the port bay airlock doors. We’re bringing in the prisoner transport. I think he woke up just about everybody on the crew to come down here.”
“I’ll bet he did,” Lee replied, pulling on his uniform shirt and buttoning up. “Do we even still have security?”
“God, I hope so!” Alice exclaimed. “Who knows what is on that ship. Anyway, I’ll take a look at your fighter. You go out that door and take a left, then a right and straight down.”
“Thanks,” he said. “Take good care of her. I owe that ship my life.”
Alice nodded and started off towards the fighter as Lee walked to the airlock door and through into the hallway. He hung his facemask off of a clip on his belt and tried to straighten his uniform before seeing the captain.
Following Alice’s instructions, Lee made two turns and walked down the long corridor toward the airlock door. He could see a crowd forming at the door. As he approached, he noticed the captain arriving. He had also straightened his uniform and put on his naval hat. The man looked rejuvenated, as if the danger of the situation had re-energized his command spirit.
“Pearce,” began the captain, seeing the pilot approach. “That was the stupidest thing I have ever seen.”
Lee looked back at the man, shocked at the anger he saw.
“Sir, I …” Lee began.
“You could have been killed out there pulling a stunt like that,” the captain barked. “Then where would we be? You are the closest thing we have on this godforsaken tub to offensive weaponry, and you nearly got yourself fried out there.”
The captain and the pilot were nearly nose to nose, with Lee backing away slightly at the man’s ire. For a moment, the crowd around the two men stared at the confrontation in awkward silence.
“I’m glad you’re back, Lee,” said the captain in a quieter tone. “I really am. Just promise me that next time you won’t try to barbeque yourself.”
“Yes, sir,” replied the pilot, with a slight smile.
The captain nodded slightly to the younger man and then turned back to the assembly. There were at least two dozen men in the dark red uniform of the security services, each of them equipped with a stun baton. The cruise company did not allow plasma weapons on board their ships, but the compact batons were usually enough to persuade drunken pleasure seekers to cease their celebrations. Each of the security men had been trained in hand to hand combat, though, and many were experts in martial arts.
The captain began to issue orders to his security forces. Lee and the older man were both fighter pilots and, as such, were several centimeters shorter than the burly security officers. However, Ortiz did not look at all intimidated as he instructed the men in a military-style surrounding tactic.
Pearce circled around the assembly and approached the window to the landing bay. He was momentarily awed at the sight before him. It had been so long since he had seen anything other than passenger vessels in the landing bay that he had almost forgotten the scale that armored ships were built on.
The three cargo loaders looked like mosquitoes attached to a tortoise. Their magnetic grapples held them fast to the larger ship. One was positioned directly on the top of the transport ship and the other two were attached at either side. They were maneuvering on thrusters and anti-gravity lifters alone, not wanting to interfere with their magnetic attachments to the alien ship. The topmost ship was almost scraping the ceiling of the cavernous landing bay as it carefully guided its strange cargo into position.
The two ships, acting like surrogate engines for the transport, detached themselves as the big ship came to a hovering stop. The pilot ship gently pushed the alien prison transport to the deck and then detached as well as the magnetic strips embedded in the deck grabbed hold of its ward. The three cargo ships then formed up just inside the door to the bay and landed gently just behind the transport.
“As soon as the big doors are closed and secure, I want us to jump out of this system,” said the captain’s voice, breaking Lee’s reverie. “I don’t care where we go, but we can’t stay in this system anymore.”
Pearce turned back to the captain, noticing that the group of people waiting at the airlock door had gotten larger. There was more security, as well as white-coated crew from the ship’s medical contingent. Also, at the far end of the hall appeared to be a few of the ship’s passengers, out to find some entertainment. Lee couldn’t say he blamed them. There hadn’t been this much excitement on the ship in a while. Lee scanned the crowd for one particular face.
“Captain,” he said, approaching Ortiz. “I don’t see Doctor Reeves.”
The two men shared a knowing glance for a moment before the older man turned to the medics who were waiting.
&n
bsp; “Where is Doctor Reeves?” the captain asked.
The medics looked about themselves for a moment before one of the medical assistants, a young man named Sanders, came forward.
“He was not available, Captain.”
“You mean he was drunk, don’t you, Sanders?” the captain asked, his anger rising for real this time. Although the captain was not a large man, when he became angry he seemed to swell in presence. His already dark skin reddened and his teeth began to grind.
“Ummm …” stammered the young man. “Yes, sir. We didn’t think it was a good idea to bring him along, sir.”
“I should never have brought him on board this ship,” said the captain, almost spitting in rage. “As soon as we are done here, my chief medical officer and I will be having a very serious talk about his retirement. For now, I need to know who is in charge.”
A heavyset man with skin the color of coal stepped forward. He was about the same age as Captain Ortiz, but his hair was completely shaved. He had a well-kept beard that hid his fleshy neck.
“That would be me, Captain,” said the man. His voice was surprisingly high for the broad chest that it came from. He had an accent that sounded more refined than most of the ship’s staff. “I am Doctor Nguna Demsiri,” he said. “I am the ship’s assistant surgeon.”
“Good,” said the captain. “I need your team to be ready for anything. We know this ship was a Ch’Tauk prisoner transport and that is about it. It was under fire from its own fighter escort and we lost signal after it was hit. There are humans aboard, but we don’t know how many exactly.”
The doctor nodded, remaining calm under the circumstances. He seemed to be listening deeply to what the captain was saying and formulating plans for triage as the conversation progressed.
“We were told there were about seventy aboard,” continued Ortiz. “We don’t know if the prisoners killed the Ch’Tauk guards or are keeping them alive. Security, I want you to be ready for that eventuality. Otherwise, we will take this as cautious as we can. I want no accidents and no stupidity, got that?”
The group acknowledged the captain with murmurs and nods.
A shudder moved through the deck, indicating that the bay doors had fully sealed and the landing area was being re-pressurized. The captain and Lee turned to the airlock doors and waited for the seals to cycle open. The doors were large to accommodate the expected passenger arrivals and their luggage aboard the cruise ship. When the first set of doors opened, the captain, Pearce, Dr. Demsiri, and about two dozen guards and medics, stepped into the airlock. The outer doors closed and the group waited patiently for the inner door to open.
Cool air rushed in as the doors to the bay opened. The security guards immediately rushed ahead of the captain and took up positions around what appeared to be the landing ramp of the transport. The medics followed the captain and Pearce with Demsiri conferring with them. With the landing bay pressurized, both inner and outer airlock doors opened and the remaining guards and medical staff entered and hurried over to the ship.
The transport was even bigger up close than it had seemed from the window. Layers of armored bands stretched lengthwise around the hull, reinforcing its beetle-like appearance. It had no bridge area that Pearce could see, but there were several marks on the hull where it appeared parts had been blasted off. It had a flattened bottom that was also banded with the same dull gray metal as the top. An inset positioned just under the front of the ship seemed to be the only other characteristic on the skin of the oblong-shaped craft.
The inset area shifted. It looked like one of the bands simply cracked in two and slid around the sides of the ship. A ramp, looking curiously like a metal tongue, descended from the ship and clanged onto the metal deck of the bay.
The security guards braced themselves, some rechecking their stun batons and some just gripping them tighter. The medical teams had laid out a floating gurney and readied themselves as well for any injuries. Ortiz set his jaw and looked up the ramp. Pearce and Demsiri stood side-by side, waiting for whatever would happen.
The inner door to the transport hissed open and a pale, flashing light bathed the deck below in emerald green. Shadows moved haltingly at the top of the ramp until, finally, one figure emerged.
It was the woman from the broadcast. Her olive skin was very pale and in the reflected light she looked deathly ill. A new gash had opened at her left temple and the blood had matted her hair on that side. She limped down the ramp to stand in front of the captain and Pearce.
“Which one of you flew that Eagle just now?” she asked, looking from Ortiz to Pearce and the Doctor.
“That would be Commander Pearce,” replied the captain, stepping forward to the woman and indicating Lee. “I am Captain—”
The woman walked past the older man to stand in front of the pilot. She was a bit shorter than Pearce, but muscular and hard. Her eyes looked deep at Lee through an obvious haze of pain. She held out her hand to him.
“Thank you.”
Lee grasped her hand and felt the sticky wetness of blood. As soon as he began to shake, the woman collapsed into his arms. Dr. Demsiri leapt forward and took the woman from Pearce. One of the medics slid the gurney out and helped the doctor lift the woman onto it. Pearce looked at the woman and then back at Ortiz.
The captain had already turned back to the ramp, though, as more figures had appeared. Most were in an obviously bad condition. They were bruised and bloody and not wearing much more than the gray tunic the woman had been wearing on the video. They staggered or limped down the ramp. The security guards moved back as more of the prisoners descended. As the crowd of refugees grew, the medics began to approach them, checking their wounds and trying to help the more injured individuals.
Lee was startled, though, as a smaller set of shadows began to slowly descend the ramp. They were humanoid, with thin arms and legs that seemed too small to hold up their heads. Pale white skin glistened in the bay lighting, and pale eyes stared back at the Princess’ crew. They had long, thin strands of hair that flowed down to the center of their backs and covered part of their wide, noseless faces. The gray tunics they wore scraped the floor as they walked to join each other. They chittered among themselves for a few moments before one of them ran back up the ramp.
Ortiz and Pearce looked at each other in bewilderment. Two of the medics stood, transfixed, looking at the tiny creatures who had gathered at the foot of the ramp. They simply stood there, looking back at the humans.
Ortiz muttered, “What in the…?”
Just then, the creature who had run back up the ramp returned, chittering madly to his fellow aliens. As one, they turned back to look up the ramp. A ghostly tone, seeming to fill the enormous bay, echoed from the little creatures. It rose to a majestic chord that filled the crew with calm. Pearce had never felt anything like it.
One of the security guards stepped forward with his baton raised as another figure descended the ramp. This time, the creature was enormous. It wore tattered gray trousers over heavily-muscled legs. Its uncovered feet were wide and webbed and made slapping noises as it stepped onto the metal deck. It was at least a meter taller than Pearce and apparently male. He had two sets of appendages above the waist. The topmost seemed like arms with four-fingered hand at the ends, but the lower set were more like flippers, with webbing that ran broadly back to the strong upper body.
He looked at the captain with large, round black eyes that seemed to stare at everything at once. A wide mouth reminded Pearce of nothing so much as a frog with two small holes for nostrils above the thin lips. A ridge of dark blue-green fins ran from the tip of the wide skull, down the broad back, and into the trousers. The fins appeared to descend down the back of each leg as well.
Several more of the large creatures thumped down the ramp behind the first and they went over to the smaller creatures to wait. The little aliens moved behind the hulking creatures as if they were seeking protection. Many of the other prisoners, male and female alike, moved
to gather closer to the tall aliens, mingling with the smaller creatures and standing between the larger ones. Pearce couldn’t tell if they were moving to protect or to be protected.
“Excuse me,” said the apparent leader, still at the bottom of the ramp. “Melaina mentioned that this was a cruise ship?”
The alien’s voice was rich and booming. Pearce was surprised that he had no accent at all. Ortiz stared back at the dark eyes for a moment. Despite being a former military man, he was obviously not prepared for a first contact situation with a giant frog.
“Yes, this is a civilian passenger liner,” he said. “I am Captain Ortiz. Welcome aboard my ship.”
The tall alien looked back at the captain. Pearce thought he might have detected something like a smile on the wide lips. He also noticed that he could see his own reflection in the creature’s eyes.
“Thank you, Captain,” replied the alien. “My name is Tuxor. I wonder, if I may ask something about your ship?”
Ortiz had moved closer, followed by Pearce and two security guards. He stared up at the creature, still trying to hold onto his command bearing.
“Certainly,” said the captain, craning his neck back.
“Do you happen to have a pool?”
5
Three Years Ago
Melaina Petros yawned and stretched her arms wide, breathing in the thick, warm air. She swung her legs over the side of the large bed and pushed herself up on her elbows. Her feet touched the smooth wooden floor of her newest home, formed out of a single flat piece of Karisien banyan. In fact, the entire room had been formed by the expert hands of Karisien arborists just to house the human engineering team that Melaina was a part of. The humid air flowed in on a breeze through the open windows that looked upon a forest of Karisien’s world-circling swamp.
Resolute Omnibus (The War for Terra) Page 4
