"Something's off. I feel too good," Gabino said. "I was shot."
"You were shot a lot, Gabino. Do you mind if I use your first name?" Luc said. "By the way, I'm Captain Luc Gray."
"Call me Gob," Gabino answered.
"I'd like to skip the slow intro and give it all to you straight up," Luc said. "Think you can handle that?"
Gob pushed to a seated position, his hospital gown falling off to expose his massive chest. Momentary panic crossed his face and he looked down to see if he was fully naked. Discovering that he wore shorts, he looked up with a humble smile. "Do your worst."
"Gob, you died a few weeks ago fighting in Guatemala. The thing is, technology is such that you didn't die sufficiently and you fell into the hands of an enemy who wanted to use you for a bad purpose. Not that you'd have any reason to know it, but you're special. You have something called a hero gene which makes you susceptible to biological enhancement and that means you are extremely valuable. You with me so far?" Luc asked.
"Maybe that's enough for now," Dorian said, having slipped in behind Luc. She alerted him to her presence by resting a hand on his shoulder.
"I died. You rescued my body from the bad guys. I have a special gene," Gabino said. "So far it doesn't sound that complicated."
"Good," Luc said, ignoring Dorian. "We're putting together a team of people like yourself to go after this enemy."
"Who is we?" Gabino asked. "North Americans? NAGeK?"
Luc hesitated. "Good question. I guess …"
"United Council of Nations Special Operations Branch," Dorian filled in. "I've forwarded our charter to you. We operate with significant anonymity, but there is oversight from the member nations."
"Whoa," Gabino said, placing a meaty hand over his eyes. "Where'd this HUD come from? I'm not even wearing a helmet."
"Are you sure he's ready, Lucien?" Dorian asked.
"Give it all to him. Gob's been in the shit, Dorian. He deserves to know everything. He can handle it."
"You've been modified, Gabino," Dorian said, virtually flicking several files at him. "You have a choice to make. I can erase your memory and put you back home. You'll be diagnosed with a terminal disease and pass in about a year. It will happen quickly and without much pain. Before you get angry, keep in mind, it's a year you didn't have before you were killed and you'll be able to spend it with your family."
"Or?"
"Join my team," Luc said. "We're going after the bastards who supplied the soldiers who took out your platoon."
"Do the files you gave me have the details of what you did to me, Doctor?"
"Dorian Anino. Please call me Dorian," Dorian offered her hand. Gob's hand swallowed hers. "The files do explain, but most of it is technical. The essence is that you're a lot stronger than you were, which is saying something. Your bones are nearly unbreakable. Your skin, while not impervious, is about as close as it can be without you losing your sense of touch. You'll notice a slight improvement in your senses and memory recall. Beyond that, you're no different than you were. For the next few days, I'd recommend moving very slowly, especially around other people. You're likely to break things until you've gained control of your body. I have a couple of staff who can help you through transition."
"When do you want my answer?"
"Twenty-four hours," Dorian said. "I promise, your passing will be without pain if that's what you choose."
"You both, you are like me?" Gob asked.
"More or less." Dorian said. "Fragile by your standards, though."
Gob nodded understanding and looked over to Katriona. "The pequeño woman. She is a soldier?"
"No, Mr. Alcazar. Katriona is very likely a mistake," Dorian said. "Would you like to stay while we wake her? You might find it disturbing. Sometimes the trauma of death follows the patient to their awakening."
"At least call me by my first name. I will stay," Gob said, pushing on a lever that elevated the back of the bed where he sat. When it didn't adjust to his satisfaction, he turned and pulled on the frame of the bed. The sound of straining steel preceded a loud pop as the end of the bed bent over. Gob gave Dorian a guilty look as he tried to gently push the metal back into position with no success.
"Leave it, Gabino. If that is the last item you break, I'll count myself very lucky," Dorian said. "Katriona will be awake in a few minutes. Transition can be quite disturbing. It is best if we allow the subject to acclimate in a serene environment."
A cracking sound was Luc's first clue that Katriona had come awake. His eyes lit on her hand and he took a quick breath as he realized she'd dislocated her thumb to withdraw her hand from the restraint. Her movements were so quick they were almost untraceable. With her right hand free, she popped the joint back together and used both arms to rip the left restraint free.
Luc leaned forward, intent on grabbing her, but she anticipated his move and jabbed her fingers into his throat, turning quickly to release her ankles. Luc recovered and stepped between Dorian and the whirling dervish that flew from the bed.
Dressed only in thin shorts and a strap of cloth around her chest, Katriona streaked across the room and leapt three meters in the air. Finding a handhold on the air grate, she pulled it from the wall and disappeared into the vent.
"She’s fast," Gob said, impressed.
Luc looked to Dorian. "That ever happen before?"
"Never, but she can't go far," she said. "The compound is relatively small and lightly staffed. I'll warn security not to engage." Before she'd finished speaking, her face contorted and became strained with concern.
"What?" Luc hissed at about the same time he felt the rumble of an explosion transmitted through the structure.
"We're under attack," Dorian said. "How could they have found us so quickly?"
"Who's here?" Gob asked. He jumped from his bed and crashed into the equipment, having underestimated his spring.
"Dorian, give me tactical command of the station," Luc said. "Gob, sorry to cut you short, but I think decision time came early for you. Are you in or out?"
Luc's HUD filled with details of the station which was located on a desolate section of Curie's terraformed moon Irène. There were twenty security personnel and a hundred thirty civilians. A fast moving, ground-based force of eighteen troops had avoided initial detection utilizing high-tech camouflage. The station's defenses were tuned to defend against aerial assaults but seemed to ignore infantry style attack, instead relying on a well-armored exterior.
"Jimmy, I need you in the lab," Luc said, over tactical comm.
The display on his HUD showed that Dorian's security personnel were falling to a quickly advancing team of very small soldiers. The tiny soldiers fought with a combination of knives and some sort of short claws that were attached to their hands. Their efficiency was as elegant as it was lethal. The station's troops fought back with combinations of FBDs, explosives and chemical attacks designed to sleep an infiltrating army, all to no avail.
"All station personnel. The station is under attack, you are to evacuate or take cover immediately. All doors are to be locked down. Do not engage."
The door to the lab flew open and Jimmy backed in, holding a long gun the likes of which Luc had never seen. Fire burst from the gun as Jimmy fired into the hallway, simultaneously cussing out whoever he was shooting at.
"It's a bunch of kids," Jimmy said, kicking the door closed and locking it. "Frakking Marek brought his feral kids here. It's not right."
"Gob, we need weapons," Luc said, "Can you break off those table legs?"
Without hesitation, Gob dismantled the nearest table.
The sound of a heavy object hitting the door echoed through the laboratory. A second and a third followed almost immediately and dents showed as the door started to fail.
"What do they want, Dorian?" Luc asked.
"Me," Dorian said. "Marek wants me."
"Why?"
"I'm the only one who can defeat him. Without me, his soldiers are unstoppable," Dorian sa
id.
"Gob. Dorian is your priority," Luc said, accepting a broken table leg from him. "You are to defend her at all costs. Do you understand?"
"Copy that." He continued to disassemble the stainless-steel table, forming it into something of a shield.
"There's a way out," Dorian said. "My ship, I've called it. We need to make it to the roof, but we can't leave Katriona behind."
"I can't find her," Luc said, watching the door as it was folding under the onslaught.
A child he guessed wasn't more than ten stans slithered through the door. Jimmy fired at the child as it ran toward them. His bullets struck the boy, causing the aberrant thing to spin around and fly backward.
"No!" Luc screamed, reaching for Jimmy. "We can't kill children."
The door flew open and a dozen more children, none older than early teens, streamed into the room.
"Non-lethal rounds," Jimmy said, firing into the crowd, bullets finding their homes and pushing the tide back, but only for a moment. "Doesn't do much more than knock 'em down."
A shock of blonde hair caught Luc's eye as none other than Emilie Bastion entered the room right behind a man wearing a business suit. For a moment, Luc’s eyes locked onto hers and he felt the connection of recognition. The connection was broken when she raised a pistol, taking aim at Dorian.
"Gob, we have a shooter," Luc's AI made a suggestion by highlighting Emilie on the tactical map of his HUD. Accepting, he saw the AI frame her body in red.
"I can't help," Jimmy said. "And I can't keep them all back."
Two children jumped past Jimmy's offensive spray and Luc blocked the first, pushing it into the second by sweeping the steel table leg like he would his oak bokken. Seemingly impervious to the pain, they quickly rebounded, clawing at the floor, clambering over each other in an attempt to get to their target, Dorian Anino.
From the corner of his eye, Luc saw Emilie rapidly firing blaster bolts. They sizzled past him as he parried a tangle of feral children.
Daring only a quick glance, he saw Gob standing resolutely in front of Dorian, energy bolts arcing across his naked skin. Using the shield he’d formed from the top of the stainless steel table, he repelled childlings that broke through Luc and Jimmy’s makeshift line, by swinging it in a great arc.
"Jimmy, we're barely holding this," Luc said. "We're going to need an exit."
"Perfect. Exits are something of a specialty for me," Jimmy replied.
"Something's not right," Dorian yelled over the chaos.
"Damn straight, Doc," Jimmy answered as he turned and fired an explosive round into the wall. "This is messed up ten ways 'till Sunday."
"Gob, Jimmy, take Dorian to her ship and get out of here," Luc ordered.
"No. Where's Marek?" Dorian objected. She grunted as Gob took a final swing with his shield, leaned over, placed a shoulder into her waist and wrapped a great arm over her back.
Jimmy stepped back, continuing with his non-lethal suppression, and covered Gob's exit.
"Stop, you big ape. This is all a distraction. Marek's not here. This is a sideshow. He's after something else."
Luc's arm burned. The distraction of planning had allowed one of the children to latch on and tear through his synthetic skin and into muscle. The pain was not disabling, but rather a warning of reduced function. Grabbing the female child by the nape of her neck, he pulled her away and flung her back into the throng.
"Go!" Luc cried, switching the makeshift bokken to his other arm which still had full strength.
"Captain, catch," Jimmy yelled, throwing his pearl-handled pistol over the fray.
Luc snatched the weapon as it passed overhead and stuffed it into his waistband.
"Where are you going, Lucien?" Dorian's voice sounded like her breath was being rhythmically expelled and Luc grinned at the image of the elegant woman, tossed like a sack of grain over Gob's shoulder.
"I can't leave Emilie and Katriona behind," Luc said, batting childlings back from following Gob, Jimmy, and Dorian through the hole. "You must go. I'll find my way back to you."
"Captain Gray, we're aboard the ship," Gob's voice came over the comm.
"No. Lucien, come with us," Dorian cried. "If Marek is here you can't stand alone against him. He'll kill you."
"We're going to need to work on your inspirational speeches," Luc said, stepping away from the hole and allowing the stream of childlings through. "Get out of here, Jimmy."
"Copy that," Jimmy said, "We're lifting off."
Chapter 20
Honor's Pledge
30 minutes earlier, near Curie's moon Irène
Marek looked through the small freighter's forward viewscreen at the fast approaching moon. Upon inspection, he knew his intel was good and that the compound on the dark purple-hued moon belonged to Anino. Separated from the rest of the vibrant Irènian culture by hundreds of kilometers, only she would have the wealth necessary to own such a swath of land. Of course, learning of the tracking isotope had simplified the task considerably.
"Bastion, instruct the breaching team to exit the craft and latch on per plan."
"Copy, Team Leader," Emilie Bastion replied mechanically. The sound of orders given during combat was familiar to her, but she wasn't sure why. She only had a few weeks of memories, yet she knew that to disobey orders was neither tolerated nor desirable. Pleasing command was something she yearned for, providing a reward all its own.
"Company, execute extra vehicular activity plan Zero One," she addressed the huddled clumps of tiny soldiers who clung to each other for no reason she could identify. "Team leaders, check in when secure."
Marek smiled. Zoya's ability to remap the brains of patients and turn them into soldiers was nothing short of miraculous. The physical aspects of turning ordinary children into formidable soldiers wasn’t the problem. Each one had physical strength twice that of a normal man and bones with ten-times the resistance to breakage due to their overlay with nano-crystalline structures. It was another thing entirely that she could wipe their little brains so thoroughly that they virtually begged to be stimulated. And what better stimulation was there than war?
"You're risking everything," Zoya chastised over the ship comms. She'd packed the most critical elements of their lab into a freighter and barely escaped Fariza before the UCN ships had arrived. "We should turn away. We have enough to get restarted."
Marek sighed. "We're not having this argument. If not for me, you'd have been captured and on your way to an interrogation site where you would have given away your technology in the first hour."
"I don't see what attacking Anino will do for us. Any installation she owns will have the highest security. You'll get us captured."
"Fear of failure is why small minds fail," Marek said. "We have one chance to recover our lost assets. Once Anino gets her hooks into them, she'll send them against us."
"But you're the one saying we don't need the relics, as you call them," Zoya argued.
"We don't need them, you blathering idiot. We should have destroyed them when we had the chance," Marek sputtered. "Now we have to take them off the board. As long as Dorian controls a team, she'll send them after us. She's at her weakest point right now! It's our only time to strike. Now get off the channel and do as you've been told!"
Marek locked Zoya out of the comm channel and turned back to the business at hand. As planned, he'd entered the moon's atmosphere hundreds of kilometers away from Anino's compound. Knowing Dorian, her facility would have weapon systems that could easily take out any ship or armored assault. What she wouldn't be prepared for was a ground assault by a score of lightly armed children.
Programming the final instructions into the ship's AI, he walked aft to the open airlock, carefully climbed out onto the hull where his minions clung like barnacles, and waited. By his calculations, losses on the landing would be less than ten percent and they'd breach the building with at least sixty percent of his force intact. That level assumed Anino's forces would actually decide to
shoot at children. He was taking a great risk, but recovery of even one of the sleeping heroes would be worth it. And even better, maybe he'd get a second shot at Jimmy or Anino.
"Freighter Trojan Twelve Niner. This is Chatal Enterprises, you're entering restricted airspace. Please turn back or we'll be forced to take defensive measures," a woman's voice finally announced over the ship's comms.
Marek glanced at the comm request on his HUD and blinked at the prompt, adding himself to the channel. "This is Trojan Twelve Niner. I'm declaring an emergency. We've experienced catastrophic engine failure. We're starting to break up." Marek poured as much emotion into the conversation as he could muster.
With a quick gesture, he blew an explosive set on one of the freighter's engines. The ship shuddered and he watched one of the childlings detach and fall away as smoke billowed away from the ship. He mentally ticked his losses to five percent.
"Trojan, we've got you on scope. It looks like you’re breaking apart, we're tracking debris," the woman replied, seemingly unflapped. "You'll set down on the coordinates I'm providing or you'll be fired on."
"Negative Chatal. Negative Chatal. That wasn't debris, it was a kid. We're transporting a load of school children. I'm trying to put us down. Please don't shoot," Marek's plea was as heart wrenching as he could make it. He slowed the ship's approach and turned in the direction of the coordinates she'd given, but not entirely. The ship remained in line with the complex's main building.
"We're rolling emergency services," the woman replied, her professional voice lined with concern.
Marek smiled. Gotcha, he thought.
"Oh gods, save us," Marek replied and set off another explosive. He noticed with detached interest that no one fell off this time and chalked the previous loss to a good learning experience. "The ship's breaking up."
He muted the comm with Chatal and switched to tactical. "All teams. We've slowed enough for our final descent. Detach and form up as you've been instructed. We'll regroup at the provided coordinates."
On a Pale Ship: A Privateer Tales Series Page 22
