The Last Flight of the Argus

by E. R. Torre

  “Take a look out front,” he muttered into the intercom.

  Excited voices filtered from the deck below. Far in the distance, the enormous black mass that made up the unknown super-juggernaut floated among the asteroids. The ship Theodore was pursuing became as insignificant as a grain of sand up against her.

  “What is that?” Theodor asked.

  The intercom crackled with static before Richard Loo replied.

  “Come to a full stop,” he said. As the Xendos approached the craft, he pressed the timer button on his wristwatch. “We wait here for the others to arrive. It shouldn’t take long.”

  CHAPTER FORTY FIVE

  Maddox’s door slid open. B’taav carefully leaned out and checked the corridor.

  There was no one was around.

  The Independent stepped out of the room. He dragged Melchor’s headless body to the door leading into a storage room at the end of the corridor. He placed the Merc’s corpse within the room and behind a stack of boxes. The boxes didn’t completely hide the corpse, but B’taav couldn’t waste time looking for a better hiding place.

  The Independent hurriedly returned to Maddox’s room and, with a grunt, lifted the bartender from his bed.

  “Easy,” Maddox said. The slightest movement caused the bartender enormous pain, and lifting him off the bed was excruciating.

  “Sorry,” B’taav said.

  “You sound like you…actually mean it,” Maddox muttered. “What about…what about Frasier’s body?”

  “They expected him to be dead,” B’taav said. “When the others come and find his body but not yours, hopefully they’ll think Melchor is out and about, getting rid of you.”

  “That’ll confuse them for…what? A minute?”

  “We’ll take what we can get.”

  “Sure,” Maddox said. He looked at Frasier’s body one more time. “At least he’s with Janet.”

  Inquisitor Cer guided the Xendos closer and closer to the fifth starboard side landing bay of the Argus, just as Francis Lane instructed her to. The landing bay door was closed. It’s once smooth surface was scared by innumerable asteroid impacts. Despite being warped and caved in, it held.

  “There,” Francis Lane said. She pointed to the edges of the landing bay door. “That’s where we begin.”

  Inquisitor Cer nodded but. To her the cockpit of the Xendos was uncomfortably crowded. Saro Triste, Stephen Gray, Francis Lane, and Nathaniel were all crammed within. Balthazar stood just outside the room. After discovering the Argus, Melchor was sent down to fetch Ned Frasier and B’taav. He should have been back by now, but Cer noticed none of the others were particularly worried by his prolonged absence.

  A beep emanating from the control panel drew the Inquisitor's attention. The ship’s sole laser cannon was charged up.

  “Take it out,” Francis Lane said.

  Inquisitor Cer aimed the cannon at the landing bay door's uppermost hinge and pressed a button. A searing laser charge leapt from the cannon and streaked directly toward the hinge. It hit it dead on and metal exploded in a blast of brilliant orange.

  “Again,” Stephen Gray said.

  Another laser blast slammed into the hinge. Its energy proved just enough. The upper landing bay door slid off its moorings and drifted up and away. There was an opening more than large enough for the Xendos to pass through.

  The occupants of the cockpit grew deathly quiet. They stared at the dark entry and wondered, for the briefest of moments, just what they would find inside.

  "Permission to proceed," Inquisitor Cer asked.

  "By all means," Saro Triste said. "Take her in."

  Before increasing the ship's thrust, Inquisitor Cer offered a silent prayer for those whose tomb they were about to disturb.

  B’taav laid Maddox down on the filthy floor of the small room.

  “You couldn’t find a nicer place than this?”

  “All the luxury cabins were taken,” B’taav said. He placed a black knapsack beside the bartender. “There’s enough food and water in there for a couple of days.”

  “Like we’ll last that long.”

  “I’ve also gathered your antibiotics and what’s left of the anesthetics.”

  Maddox gave the knapsack, and its sparse contents, an indifferent gaze.

  "All the comforts of home."

  “In spite of the engine noise, you’ll hear them when they come in,” B’taav continued. He knew these sounds would also make Maddox’s stay very uncomfortable, but there were very few who knew of this maintenance room and of the coolant lines that passed through it. B’taav removed Melchor’s fusion gun from his pant pocket and pointed out those lines to Maddox.

  “If they rush you, don’t bother taking them out, for there will be too many,” he said. “Aim for the coolant drains. One shot and the Xendos is permanently crippled.”

  “Isn’t the coolant toxic?”

  “If you need to fire that gun, it's a fair bet coolant toxicity won’t really matter.”

  Maddox took Melchor’s fusion gun.

  “What if I take the shot now and end this whole thing?”

  “Your goal…our goal, is to rid the universe of the Argus. Crippling the Xendos will get rid of this bunch, but the Argus isn't going away. You can bet Lieutenant Daniels, if not someone else, will eventually find her.”

  “What's your plan?”

  “I don't really have one. But I intend to make our friends' job that much harder.”

  “Come on B’taav, I’m finished,” Maddox said. He offered the handgun back to the Independent. “You’re going to need this more than I will.”

  Instead of taking it, B'taav said:

  “Be careful with that. And don’t go firing it off the moment that door opens. If we’re lucky, the next person coming in will be me.”

  “You’re a crazy son of a bitch,” Maddox said. “Good luck.”

  “You too.”

  B’taav gave Maddox one last look before exiting the room.

  CHAPTER FORTY SIX

  Inquisitor Cer eased the Xendos closer to the rutted landing bay opening. Once the ship was lined up, she steered it straight in, all the while checking and double checking to make sure no debris or jagged metal around the hole scraped or got caught in the Xendos' body.

  As they entered the bay, a stygian darkness descended upon the cockpit. Inquisitor Cer flicked a switch and the ship’s exterior floodlights came on. They illuminated much of the area directly in front of their vessel and offered its occupants the first look at the Argus' cavernous interior landing hangar.

  What lay before them was a monstrous pit filled with the discarded toys of a giant. Cables, boxes, small and heavy tractors, as well as massive hydraulic machines spread out in the darkness. A ten-ton crane floated a few feet off the ground, its weight in zero gravity no more than that of a feather. Thick metal cables hung between the floor and wall like colossal spider webs.

  “Careful,” Saro Triste said, keenly aware that these webs, like those of a spider, could easily snare the Xendos.

  Tools, some as small as a screwdriver floated before the ship's front window. A hammer gently bounced off the ship’s side and spun away into the darkness.

  Inquisitor Cer eased the ship fully into the landing bay and avoided the larger debris. After several tense minutes, the Xendos bypassed the major barricades and neared its destination: the doors leading into the Argus’ main body.

  Inquisitor Cer gently touched the ship down amidst loose metal sheets and boxes. She left the ship’s floodlights on and faced the occupants of the bridge.

  “We’re here.”

  B’taav silently moved down the corridor and to the stairs. He climbed them quickly and examined the crew compartment corridor. It was unchanged from moments before and there was no sight of anyone.

  B’taav returned to Maddox’s room. Frasier’s corpse remained sitting in its chair. The Independent stole a glance at Maddox’s window and was transfixed by the sight of the interior of the A
rgus before hastily pressing the timer button on his wristwatch. For longer than he should have, he watched the Xendos make its way inside the massive ship's landing bay.

  B’taav forced himself to return to the outside corridor. He made a beeline to Francis Lane’s room, pausing for a moment before the door to listen for any sound coming from within.

  Satisfied no one was there; he again used the computer pad's lock picking software to open the door and stepped inside. He walked to the room’s closet and removed the two suitcases he found in his previous visit. B’taav focused on the small case first. He opened the case and sorted through its contents. There was nothing within but clothing.

  B’taav set the smaller case aside and turned his attention to the larger one. It was jet black and made of an exotic, and very expensive, nomilium plastic. When B’taav picked it up he found it to be very heavy.

  B'taav suspected the case might have a security device within and inspected it carefully. He found security locks on each of the four buckles. They were a type the Independent was familiar with and took little time to disarm. Once done, he opened the suitcase.

  Inside was more clothing but buried at the back was a small black box and two bags. B’taav opened one of the bags and found wires of different colors carefully tied together. B’taav laid that bag down and picked up the other. He found Francis Lane’s toiletries inside. She had a brush, cleaners, and three plastic containers filled with blue, white, and red pills. B’taav identified the white pills as analgesics and the red pills as decongestants. The blue pills, however, had no labels or marking.

  Something about them seemed familiar.

  B’taav turned his attention to the black box. When he picked it up, he was surprised by the small box’s considerable weight.

  "Interesting."

  B’taav lifted the box from the bottom of the suitcase and laid it on the floor. There were no markings and its surface was smooth. He ran his hands along its edges and felt an indentation near one of its sides and pressed it in.

  A slit opened on the top of the box. Three holes and a square indentation were also revealed. B’taav reached for the blue pills. Recognition dawned on his face.

  The Independent scowled and muttered a vile oath under his breath. For several seconds he seriously considered hurling the box against the wall and smashing it to pieces.

  No. That won’t solve anything.

  The Independent calmed down. He pocketed the blue pills and once again felt for the indentation along the edge of the box. He pressed it and the slit at the center of the box closed. B’taav returned the box to its place in the suitcase before closing it up and re-activating the security locks.

  B’taav placed the suitcase back in the closet. He knew time was short and couldn't afford to remain in Francis Lane’s room much longer. In his hurry to leave, he failed to notice a thin slit along the base of the closet wall.

  Inquisitor Cer shut down the Xendos’ engines and rose. Stephen Gray, Francis Lane, and Saro Triste remained in their places, gazing out the window. All of them were in awe.

  “Even now, even though we’re here…I never thought—” Stephen Gray said. A smile cut across his face. “She’s intact. By the Gods, she’s actually intact!”

  Francis Lane shared his smile. Her grip on Nathaniel’s shoulders tightened. “We built them to last back then. The Old Empire knew what it was doing. Let's not waste any more time. Let’s move.”

  The group hurriedly exited the cockpit. They walked down the stairs and to the crew deck. They sped along the corridor with the intention of continuing to the decompression chamber that lay in the next level below.

  “How many power cells did we bring?” Saro Triste asked Inquisitor Cer.

  “Fourteen large power cells and fifty small ones.”

  “Will they be enough?”

  Francis Lane thought about that.

  “The Argus’ doors have two energy systems, the main system and a backup. If the connection to the main system fails, a backup cell feeds energy to the door, allowing those with knowledge of its code to open it.”

  “Do we have the codes?” Inquisitor Cer asked.

  “My research into the Argus revealed one of their primary, non-secretive access codes,” Francis Lane said. “Thirty three, forty-four, and sixty-six. They picked that code for all the minimum security doors.”

  “Easy enough to remember. What if we need to pass through doors with secondary security codes?”

  “For now, let’s worry about getting the main doors opened,” Francis Lane said. “There should be enough energy cells to get us through them. And there should be enough of the big cells to get the central computers online. If we’re lucky, we’ll get the artificial gravity mechanisms working and maybe even get the life support systems operational.”

  “Life support? How long will we be—?”

  “Never mind that, Inquisitor,” Saro Triste interrupted. “We need to work quickly. It’s only then that we can proceed to the next —”

  His words were cut off by the sound of an alarm. A red light flashed through the corridor.

  “Someone’s activated the ship’s airlock!” Stephen Gray yelled.

  Inquisitor Cer broke off from the group and ran down the hall. She passed several rooms before abruptly stopping.

  “What in...?”

  The group caught up with her. Inquisitor Cer stood before the door leading into Maddox’s room. Sitting in a chair in the room was the body of Ned Frasier. Inquisitor Cer approached the man in white and checked for a pulse.

  “He’s dead.”

  “And Maddox is gone,” Saro Triste said. “He couldn’t have moved on his own.”

  “We're also missing B'taav and Melchor."

  “We can sort this out after we see who used the airlock.”

  Inquisitor Cer turned to Saro Triste for guidance. The Phaecian Cardinal nodded.

  “Let's get to the airlock,” he said.

  Inquisitor Cer was the first one out the door. She took a sharp right and disappeared down the corridor, followed by Saro Triste and Stephen Gray.

  The last people to leave Maddox’s room were Francis Lane, Nathaniel, and Balthazar. Francis Lane took one more look at Frasier's corpse and Maddox's empty bed. She also noted the dry vomit on the floor.

  “Where is Melchor?” Francis Lane asked the Merc.

  Balthazar shrugged.

  “Find him. We’ll need him. Very soon.”

  “Yes ma'am,” the Merc said.

  Francis Lane and Nathaniel headed after the rest of the group while Balthazar walked in the opposite direction.

  CHAPTER FORTY SEVEN

  Inquisitor Cer was the first to arrive in the decompression room's antechamber. Whoever had used the airlock chamber was gone, as the room beyond was empty. As the others made their way into the antechamber, she was already working on the airlock’s computer system.

  Inquisitor Cer pressed several other buttons and the three monitors over the computer system came alive. They showed the area immediately outside the Xendos. Inquisitor Cer moved the outer camera until she caught sight of someone in an environmental suit on the Argus' flight deck. He was too short to be Melchor and obviously couldn't be the injured Maddox.

  “It’s B’taav,” Stephen Gray said.

  The man in the space suit carried a large black case in his right hand and a computer pad in the other.

  “He’s got the power cells,” Saro Triste said. “What is he doing?”

  B’taav walked to the door leading from the flight deck into the body of the Argus. It was already half open. With some effort, he slid it open the rest of the way. Without pausing, he disappeared into the darkness within.

  “Son of a bitch,” Stephen Gray spat. “B'taav killed Frasier and now he’s inside the Argus. He means to get the Charybdis device for himself!”

  “How far will he get without the proper codes?” Saro Triste asked.

  “Not very,” Francis Lane said.

  “
Reprogramming that computer pad to be a lock picking device isn't that difficult, if you know how,” Inquisitor Cer said. “The Independent wouldn’t take this action without some kind of plan.”

  “You believe he thought this through?” Stephen Gray said. “What, in your considered opinion, could his plan possibly be?”

  “All I can offer are guesses,” Inquisitor Cer said. “Once we found the Argus, the Independent likely feared his usefulness to us was at its end.”

  “You think he’s trying to make himself useful again?” Saro Triste said. “By getting his hands on the bomb?”

  “What else of value is there in this place?”

  Stephen Gray shook his head.

  “He has to be stopped.”

  “Indeed,” Saro Triste said. He laid both hands on Inquisitor Cer's shoulders. “For a long time you've wanted to get your hands on the Independent, have you not Inquisitor?”

  “Cardinal?”

  “You are among friends,” Saro Triste said. “We know you share little love with the Independent, especially because of his involvement in the Tamarin Campaign.”

  Inquisitor Cer took a step back.

  “You overheard my conversations with the Independent?”

  “It was for your benefit, child. We had to make sure no harm came to you.” Saro Triste offered the Inquisitor a sympathetic smile. “It pains me that you spent so much time with that loathsome war criminal.”

  A savage darkness settled on Inquisitor Cer's face.

  “You wish me to stop the Independent?” she asked.

  There was a long pause as Saro Triste considered her question. When Saro Triste spoke next, his voice was deadly serious.

  “You will stop him,” Saro Triste said. “I do so order.”

  “Your lordship,” Inquisitor Cer said and bowed.

  Inquisitor Cer approached the lockers on the other side of the room and pulled out one of the eleven remaining environmental suits. She examined it, making sure that the Independent hadn’t performed any sabotage on it. Once satisfied the suit was intact, she put it on.