The Last Flight of the Argus

by E. R. Torre

  “Never...never mind that. What is your purpose?”

  “The same as B’taav’s. We intend to destroy the Argus.”

  Sweat dripped down Maddox's face.

  “How...how do I know you’re telling the truth?”

  “There isn't the time, or a way, for me to convince you. So if you can do it, set off the Argus' self-destruct mechanism and try your best to get the Xendos out of here. Because if you can't, I will.”

  Inquisitor Cer resumed her run. She managed three more steps.

  “Wait!” Maddox said.

  Inquisitor Cer stopped. Behind her, the decompression doors of the Xendos slid open.

  CHAPTER SIXTY FOUR

  B’taav felt Balthazar’s vice like grip on his side. The Merc's hands sent sharp waves of pain throughout the Independent’s body.

  For a second B’taav blacked out.

  The tranquility within the darkness was a welcome release, but a fresh wave of pain tore through it like a supernova. B’taav again stared into the crazed eyes of Balthazar.

  By now his perverse joy was dulled. He was like a cat grown tired of its half-dead mouse. B’taav could no longer run and he could no longer fight. There was little fun in continuing this game.

  The Merc’s eyes drifted to the exterior of the Argus. For a moment he seemed confused, as if realizing for the first time that Inquisitor Cer was not around. B’taav took advantage of his distraction and, with his little remaining strength, kicked the Merc in the stomach and twisted out of his grip.

  B’taav fell backwards, eventually hitting the ground while Balthazar went airborne. His hands flayed at his side and the hints of boredom in his face were replaced with rage. He yelled and flung his arms around wildly. He was unable to control his flight.

  B’taav got to his feet and stumbled away. He took only a few steps before Balthazar landed. The Merc readjusted the magnetism on his boots and slowly walked after B’taav.

  There was no need to rush, for B’taav’s pace was slow. The Independent could not get away from Balthazar. Indeed, his energy quickly dissolved and B'taav crumbled to his knees.

  Balthazar was at his side. He picked B’taav up and pulled him close. The sadistic fire was back in the Merc’s eyes. He turned B’taav around and fiddled with his life support controls. The heat in the Independent’s suit was replaced with an unbearable cold.

  The Merc gave B’taav one last smile before hurling him away.

  B’taav’s body fell into a pile of thin metal cables. Like a fly in a spider’s web, B’taav was tangled up and could not move. In the distance he saw Balthazar pick something from the ground. It was a long metal rod with a jagged spike at its end. The Merc eyed the fearsome weapon and nodded.

  This would do.

  Balthazar's dance with the Independent was over.

  In desperation, B’taav looked around for something, anything that he could use to fight off the Merc. His eyes followed a cable that wound around his right arm and down into the asteroid dust. The floor under him, B’taav realized, was solid metal. He was no longer on the tinsel glass that made up the hydroponics roof. He continued his desperate search for a weapon of any kind, but instead of finding one he spotted what looked like the hand of a life sized statue half-buried under the cable and asteroid dust.

  B’taav blinked. Though he was keenly aware of the approaching Merc, he couldn’t help but wonder what a statue was doing outside the Argus.

  The statue's hand was missing several fingers. Despite this, it was remarkably life-like. Remarkably…

  With a start, B’taav realized he was not looking at a statue. The hand was human. B’taav followed it through the tangled cables. He made out the form of a man buried beneath the web. He had probably died of exposure, for he did not wear an environmental suit. Instead, he wore a Royal Epsillon fleet blue uniform.

  B’taav slid to his right and pulled at the cables. The man’s upper body was revealed and his features, even after all these years, remained untouched. The man had a lean face and black hair and his eyes were closed. His mouth was open, frozen in the middle of his last, painful death rattle.

  B’taav couldn’t know for sure who this man was, but his uniform and the gold insignia on his chest identified him as a Captain in the Royal Epsillon Fleet.

  The only Captain aboard the Argus when she entered the Erebus Solar System was Nathaniel Torin.

  CHAPTER SIXTY FIVE

  Inside the Xendos’ decompression chamber, Inquisitor Cer stepped out of her environmental suit and ran up the stairs and to Francis Lane’s room, pausing only for a moment when confronted by the bloody corpses of Stephen Gray and Francis Lane.

  She found Maddox sitting in Francis Lane’s bed and Nathaniel working on a small, very sophisticated computer.

  “What is this?” Cer asked. She was surprised to see the boy so nimbly operating such a piece of high tech.

  “You no longer have anything to fear from me, Inquisitor,” the boy assured her.

  “He’s more than he seems,” Maddox added. His stump was re-wrapped and there was life in his tired features. “We can talk about that later, after we rescue B’taav.”

  Inquisitor Cer sat beside the boy.

  “B’taav wanted the tinsel glass shielding over the hydroponics level ejected. Can this be done from here?”

  “Why does he want to do this?”

  “I have no idea. But with the atmosphere trapped in the level, ejection will create one hell of a blast. Can it be done?”

  Nathaniel pressed a series of codes into Francis Lane’s computer. In a matter of seconds his work was done.

  “Tell me when.”

  “Stand by,” Cer said. She pushed her communicator button. “B’taav? Do you still want me to eject the tinsel glass?”

  B’taav tore his eyes from the lifeless form of Captain Nathaniel Torin and back to Balthazar. The Merc stood only a few feet away and was approaching fast.

  “Yes,” B’taav whispered. “Now.”

  After he spoke, the Independent's head settled back while his eyes remained on the Merc. The man drew closer, and closer, and nothing happened.

  Nothing at all.

  “Now,” B'taav repeated.

  Still the Merc approached. Closer...

  Inquisitor Cer failed, B’taav realized. She had—

  The Independent felt a rumble.

  It was as if the corpse of the long dead ship was coming back to life. Asteroid dust kicked up several feet before B’taav. The dust enveloped Balthazar and spread out for what seemed like many kilometers into the distance.

  Balthazar spun around, confused by the vibrations. He released the metal spike and it floated off. Metal fragments lying on the surface of the Argus jumped up and shot past him. The tinsel glass that made up the hydroponics shield was, for a second, fully exposed. Balthazar saw the field of withered vines and plants below him. Each and every one of them shook. Fiercely.

  Air hissed out from cracks and blew past the Merc and into the vacuum of space.

  B’taav could do little more than sit back and watch. He lay on a solid metal surface, and not the tinsel glass. Even so, the rumbling grew so strong he feared the Argus itself would shatter.

  And then the tinsel glass exploded.

  Millions and millions of jagged pieces shot directly upwards, like an erupting volcano.

  In less than a fraction of a second, Balthazar’s body was ripped to shreds by the shattered glass. His pulped remains along with the entire tinsel glass shield shot straight up, hurling many kilometers in seconds, before colliding against a giant asteroid floating above the Argus.

  Just as suddenly as it began, the area around the Independent was calm. The ejection of tinsel glass and atmosphere was complete and all energies were spent.

  B’taav, though he lay only feet away from the edge of the blast, had nonetheless escaped uninjured. In the zero gravity conditions, all shrapnel was hurled up, and away, from the Independent.

  B'taav let out a br
eath. His body was growing rigid from the cold, but he survived. B'taav heard a beep within his suit. The timer on his wristwatch was signaling the ten minute notice. In the distance, he spotted movement.

  The Xendos gracefully exited the super-juggernaut’s landing bay, made a sharp turn, and floated his way.

  “Just in time,” the Independent muttered.

  B’taav closed his eyes and, as he drifted into unconsciousness, managed a very relieved smile.

  CHAPTER SIXTY SIX

  Oscar Theodor checked the fighter craft’s internal systems for what had to be the thousandth time since parking his fighter within visual range of the Argus. He wondered how the other two members of his group, as well as all the members of the Blue Rogue squad, were doing down below.

  Start and stop. Hurry up and do nothing.

  It made no sense. The other Tango fighter crafts arrived shortly after the discovery of the super juggernaut. They knew where the ship they were pursuing landed. If the order was given, they could fly down in force and neutralize any potential hostiles. If there were any.

  Of course there are. You've been ordered to keep your weapons hot, your communications silent, and await the arrival of the Dakota. Once it arrives, all hell will break loose.

  Won't it?

  Oscar Theodor, and the rest of the ships lying in wait, had a little less than two hours before finding out.

  “Do as you’re told and don't ask questions,” Theodor muttered.

  He wasn’t the only one growing irritated with this wait. Even the usually stoic Richard Loo had a look of exasperation about him.

  Theodor felt his eyes glazing yet again.

  “How’s it going up there?” Karina Wilson called from the compartment below.

  “How do you think?”

  “Tell us when it gets exciting.”

  “That should be any day now.”

  Theodor's gaze drifted from his ship's monitors and back to the juggernaut. The massive ship’s stern was closest to his spacecraft and her bow was hidden behind a wall of asteroids. He could only guess at her exact dimensions. He could only guess why Lieutenant Daniels made it so important to find her, only to then order everyone remain far away.

  Don't ask questions.

  Easier said than done.

  Theodor shrugged. He followed the super juggernaut's visible lines from bow to stern and admired the craftsmanship. Halfway through his latest gaze, he stopped.

  Theodor spotted what appeared to be a puff of smoke rise from the middle of the ship.

  “What?”

  He leaned forward and adjusted the magnification on his goggles.

  “I'll be damned.”

  A plume of dust and debris rose from the ship and violently collided against an enormous asteroid floating just above. The asteroid slowly spun up and away.

  Theodor hit the intercom.

  “We’ve got activity!”

  Richard Loo was up the stairs and at Theodor’s side in a microsecond.

  “What did you see?”

  “Exhaust. It came from the center of the ship.”

  Richard Loo put on his magnification goggles on and adjusted their settings.

  “I see it. You think the hostiles somehow got the ship’s directional thrusters working?”

  “No. It looked more like a sudden decompression, like when a ship’s walls crack and the atmosphere leaks out.”

  “The ship had atmosphere?”

  “It would appear so.”

  “Was this done on purpose?”

  “It had to be. You don't have atmosphere trapped for all these years in a space craft only to have it shoot out accidentally right here and right now. You know, we could take a closer look.”

  “We'll need permission to break formation.”

  “Yes sir.”

  “We'll have to break communication silence.”

  “It's your call, sir.”

  “Yes it is.”

  Richard Loo pulled the spare headphones from beside Theodor’s chair and placed them over his head. He looked at his wristwatch. The timer had run down to ten minutes. Ten minutes before they were supposed to act. Ten minutes before the Dakota would fire her long range Lancer torpedoes at the super juggernaut. He was ordered to wait the full four hours, and they were damn close to being spent.

  Orders are orders. Even if there are only ten minutes left.

  Was the atmosphere purging cause enough to break the communication silence?

  Reluctantly, Richard Loo activated the communicator. Theodor was surprised by the man's hesitancy.

  The higher ups must have made radio silence an absolute imperative.

  “This is Officer Richard Loo of the Blue Rogues. We have a—”

  “Sir,” Theodor interrupted. He pointed to a small ship exiting the juggernaut. Richard Loo again adjusted his magnification goggles.

  “It’s the ship we were following,” Theodor said. “They’re moving away from the juggernaut. They’re picking up speed.”

  “This is Officer Loo,” Richard Loo repeated. “The craft we were pursuing has left the juggernaut. What are your orders?”

  Lieutenant Daniels and General Jurgens stood on the bridge of the Dakota. They, along with all the officers on the bridge gazed at the central view screen. Despite the asteroids and distance from their target, they could see the ancient craft. They also heard Richard Loo's message.

  “All Tango crafts, you may now break communication and sensor silence,” the General said. “Get a full scan on the derelict.”

  Oscar Theodor hit several buttons in the panel before him. Dormant monitors came alive with long-range sensor information. He locked in on the juggernaut and, after examining the data, drew a sharp breath.

  “All levels of the juggernaut's internal compartments show energy spikes,” Theodor said. “They're expanding. She’s—”

  Theodor faced Richard Loo.

  “Sir, she’s going to blow!”

  Richard Loo grabbed his microphone.

  “All Tango fighters,” he yelled. “Surround the escaping craft and lead her to the Dakota. Let’s get the hell out of here before the juggernaut takes us with her.”

  It was impossible for Inquisitor Cer not to notice the sudden, blinding sensor activity surrounding the Xendos. She counted thirty fighter crafts appear out of the emptiness of space and move on an intercept course toward them.

  “This is Inquisitor Cer of the Phaecian Empire calling all unknown crafts,” she said over her communicator. “I’m on board the cargo vessel Xendos and present no threat. Please be advised that the derelict juggernaut’s self-destruct mechanisms are engaged. She will explode within five minutes. You must maintain a minimum three hundred kilometer distance from the derelict or risk grave damage or destruction to your craft. I repeat, you must maintain…”

  CHAPTER SIXTY SEVEN

  For two hundred years the Argus laid hidden deep inside the Erebus asteroid field. She was the last remnant of a war that most in the Epsillon and Phaecian Empire would rather forget.

  When the five minutes was up, she erupted.

  Her blackened hull blew outward as her guts were ripped open by the charges hidden in every one of her levels. For a brief second the darkness that filled the asteroid field was bathed in a stark white light. For a brief second it appeared this lonely, forgotten place had gained a new sun.

  And then everything went black again.

  The remains of the Argus, small, twisted pieces of metal, drifted off in all directions. Asteroids remained the only testament to the destruction caused by the Erebus War.

  CHAPTER SIXTY EIGHT

  When B’taav came to, he was lying in a bed within the Xendos.

  The room was small and dreary and could fit only two small cots side by side. The other bed, B’taav found, was enclosed in a germ free stasis container, the type used for people who suffered grave injuries. Within the container, however, was someone long past suffering of any kind. Within the stasis container was th
e body of Captain Nathaniel Torin. The asteroid dust was removed from his face and body and he looked like he just passed away. The only things that suggested otherwise were the missing fingers on his right hand and a missing left leg.

  Sitting before the body was little Nathaniel. His eyes were stained with tears. When B’taav rose from his bed, the boy barely noticed.

  B’taav’s right arm was in a splint and his midsection was wrapped. Despite the pain that lingered from his encounter with Balthazar, he felt remarkably good.

  Why not, he thought. You’re alive.

  “How do you feel?” Nathaniel asked.

  “Not bad,” B'taav replied. He noticed the boy had a heavy wrap around his left hand. He was missing his pinky finger. “Yourself?”

  “Could be worse.”

  “You really aren’t him,” B'taav said. “Despite what you may think.”

  “You knew? When?”

  “Before I left the Xendos and entered the Argus I searched Francis Lane’s room. I had to know who you were and why you were here. In one of her suitcases I found the download box and the medication she used to keep you under control. In my...travels, I heard about efforts to imprint memories. I put the Geist Cube together with the items in Francis Lane's possession and guessed she figured out a way to do this. On you.”

  B’taav sat on the edge of his bed.

  “It sickened me when I realized what she was up to, but there was little I could do to stop her, at least at that moment. The best course of action was to make things harder for her. I took the medication she used to keep you sedated.”

  “Then I have you to thank for all the things she did to me afterwards.”

  “Sorry,” B’taav said. It was clear he meant it. “But if I allowed her to continue using the medication, she might have tricked you into giving her all the access codes.”

  “You're probably right,” Nathaniel said. “The medication made me more pliant. Had she shown me the Argus operating system while I was under the meds, I might well have given her everything she wanted. In spite of all I went through, you saved me nonetheless. I had to return the favor.”