Infinite Mayhem

by Jake Bible

  “All safe and secure,” Hessa announced. “Nimm?”

  “Ready,” Nimm replied, the last syllable barely audible as she was whisked out of the shaft.

  “Reck, you’re up,” Hessa said.

  Roak caught the tone in Hessa’s voice as Reck blinked out.

  “We’re about to get cooked,” Roak said and shoved himself and Yellow Eyes against the side of the shaft.

  The platform was still moving and the wall of the shaft pulled at Roak’s suit, nearly tearing it from his body. The roof above them split apart and magma poured down onto the center of the platform, melting through the material it was made out of and continuing on down through the shaft. There was a wrenching noise and the platform ground to a halt.

  Then the platform started to fall.

  The magma had melted the mechanism that was raising the platform. All support struts and motor pistons were hunks of slag. The platform plummeted back to the bottom, a cascade of magma following from above.

  “Hang on!” Roak yelled as the platform slammed into the bottom of the shaft.

  Magma splashed against his enviro suit and he could feel the slight protective coolness the suit’s material provided evaporate away. Another splash and he screamed as his flesh was cooked on his left calf.

  “Got ya, man!” Yellow Eyes shouted.

  Yellow Eyes wrapped his arms around Roak and lifted. Then he ran.

  Lasers tried to slice them both to pieces as the security protocols came back online now that the platform was back in place. It was coated in hot magma, but back in place. Yellow Eyes dodged every last killer beam and kept running.

  He backtracked their way down. His legs propelled him across the shark tank. He was able to swing them over the wormhole portal. He pushed through the corridor of belly-exploding microwaves, trampling corpses under his fast-flying feet as he went.

  Through it all, Yellow Eyes ran and behind him the heat pursued.

  The shark tank melted and turned to steam then nothing. The wormhole portal sucked in the magma that was filling the facility, sending it through trans-space and to Eight Million Gods knew where. Then the magma overwhelmed the portal and it shut down, allowing the ever-onward movement of the molten rock to continue.

  The microwave corridor and the corpses were obliterated. The facility was filling quickly and Yellow Eyes was slowing down as all of his injuries, as well as the weight of carrying Roak, began to catch up with him.

  “I got this!” Yellow Eyes shouted as they burst out of the facility and straight at the ship.

  But the ship wasn’t there. At least not their ship.

  It was a Borgon Eight-Three-Eight alright, but not their Borgon Eight-Three-Eight.

  “Do not move!” a voice bellowed from an external loudspeaker. “By the authority of the Galactic Fleet, you are to be captured and contained for questioning. If you attempt to flee, we will open fire!”

  “Drop me,” Roak grunted.

  “Man, this ground is hotter than all the Hells and your suit is compromised,” Yellow Eyes said. “You’re dying right now, Roak. I drop you on this rock and you’ll cook to death in seconds.”

  “Drop me, you idiot,” Roak gasped. “Now!”

  Yellow Eyes stared at the unfamiliar ship then shrugged and dropped Roak.

  Roak was gone before he hit the ground. Yellow Eyes was only a second behind.

  30.

  “You need to be in a med pod!” Reck shouted as she turned in her seat to glare at Roak. “What are you thinking?”

  “Yellow Eyes is in a med pod,” Roak said. He limped to the pilot’s seat and fell into it. “He’s messed up. Saved my life, though.”

  “That’s a Drop Team on our ass!” Nimm yelled from the navigation console. “I have no idea which one, but that is a Drop Team for sure!”

  “Zero,” Roak said. He hissed as his semi-melted calf rubbed against his seat. “Son of a bitch.”

  “Roak, I insist you get into a med pod,” Hessa said.

  “Focus on getting us out of here instead of focusing on getting me into a med pod,” Roak snarled. “Outfly that ship now!”

  “How do you know that it’s Zero?” Nimm asked. “How can you possibly know that?”

  “Because I ran into one of their team on the GF destroyer,” Roak replied. “Called himself Geist and was comming back and forth with his team. He said Zero several times.”

  “Eight Million Gods, we are fucked,” Nimm said.

  “Leaving atmosphere now,” Hessa announced. “Proceeding to the wormhole portal.”

  “And the Drop Team ship?” Reck asked.

  “They are in pursuit,” Hessa reported. “Not to worry, I can outfly them. They are beings and I am an integrated AI that lives in a Borgon Eight-Three-Eight. Doesn’t matter how good they are, I’ll beat them to the portal.”

  “No, you won’t!” Nimm yelled. “Zero has their own AI. They have a full android as one of their members! Oh, and their team leader? A fucking cyborg! She can patch into their ship’s systems and fly that way!”

  “Oh… Uh… I didn’t know that,” Hessa responded. “Kind of changes things a little. Not much, but a little.”

  “How do you know all that?” Reck asked.

  “I’ve been working as a contractor for the GF for years,” Nimm said. “I have plenty of contacts within the GF and within the Drop Team program. Zero is their most elite unit. If they are on our asses, then they will catch us.”

  “Oh, that sounds like a challenge,” Hessa said.

  “Best to give up,” Roak said. “Hessa? Just stop the ship so we can talk with them.”

  “What? No way! I can outfly a damn android!” Hessa replied.

  “No, you can’t,” Roak insisted. “You’re good, but as much as I hate to admit it, they have combat training far above your programming. If we don’t comply, they’ll kill us all.”

  “You think so?” Hessa snapped. “I’ll show you combat training.”

  The ship’s speed increased, pressing everyone back into their seats. Roak caught Reck’s eye and winked. Reck rolled her eyes at him.

  “They’re trying to hail us,” Nimm said.

  “Good for them,” Roak said.

  “Roak, they are hailing us, not shooting at us,” Nimm said. “That’s a good sign. We should at least listen to what they say before we get to the wormhole portal.”

  “Not interested in what they say,” Roak replied.

  “She’s not wrong, Roak,” Reck said.

  Roak shook his head then sighed.

  “Fine. Open the comms channel,” Roak said.

  “This is Lieutenant Bish Falk,” a voice echoed through the bridge. “With whom am I speaking?”

  “That’s their cyborg team leader,” Nimm said. “She goes by Motherboard.”

  “Cute,” Roak said. He cleared his throat. “This is Roak. What can I do for you, Lieutenant?”

  “You can stop your ship and prepare to be boarded,” Motherboard stated. “If you cooperate, I can assure you that your crew will not be harmed.”

  “I can assure that my crew will not be harmed by continuing to fly toward the portal,” Roak replied. “Then once we’re through the portal, I can assure myself that you’ll never find us.”

  “We found you once,” Motherboard said. “We can find you again. We’re very good at our jobs.”

  “I don’t think so,” Roak said. He made a slashing motion by his throat.

  “Comms muted,” Nimm said.

  “Hessa? How’d they find us?” Roak asked.

  “Busy!” Hessa snapped.

  “Reck? Nimm? Thoughts?” Roak asked.

  “Bishop,” Reck said. “Bishop sent out a signal to the other facilities. They must have had a pretty Eight Million Gods damn wide net to catch that signal, but that’s my guess.”

  “Good guess,” Roak said. He nodded at Nimm and she nodded back. “Motherboard, right?”

  “Yes…” Motherboard replied.

  “Listen, you an
d your teammates must have your hands full with this Skrang crap,” Roak said. “Forget you found us and go shoot Skrang. Defend the galaxy from the lizard people menace. What I need to do is way above your pay grade, Motherboard, trust me.”

  “I have my orders, Roak,” Motherboard replied.

  Roak waited. There was no follow up statement.

  “Good for you. Glad you have your orders,” Roak said after a few seconds of silence. “You should really ignore those orders. That’d be the better choice for you and your team, not to mention the GF. I’d hate for them to lose a Drop Team when they need all hands on deck.”

  “Roak, I know your reputation,” Motherboard said. “I know most reputations in this galaxy are overinflated. But, from what I have seen of your abilities, I believe your reputation is not giving you credit you deserve.”

  Reck threw up her hands and made a gagging noise. Roak flipped her off.

  “My orders are to capture you for interrogation,” Motherboard said. “What you don’t understand is that I am not taking you to the Galactic Fleet brass. I have a boss that is very interested in what is happening with you and your father.”

  Roak narrowed his eyes. “How so?”

  “One of my team members, Geist, met you in a corridor,” Motherboard said. “You gave him quite a story to chew on. He passed the story on to me and I passed that story on to my boss. If what you say is true, then our interests are aligned. Stop your ship, allow us to board, and I can put you in contact with my boss. He’ll explain what he is thinking and then you can decide whether or not that works for you.”

  “And if I decide it doesn’t work?” Roak asked.

  “What happens after that is not up to me,” Motherboard admitted. “I won’t do you any disrespect by telling you otherwise.”

  Roak slashed at his throat again.

  “Comms muted,” Nimm said. “You aren’t seriously thinking of taking her offer? Drop Teams aren’t just GF military, but part of the Fleet Intelligence Service too. The boss? He’s a high-up spook in the FIS that will lock us all away in a”—”

  “You changed your tune fast,” Reck said.

  “Well, I thought they were just going to try to kill us,” Nimm said. “If a Drop Team has been sent to retrieve you for interrogation, then dying out here in space is the better option. Trust me.”

  “We’re not stopping. We’re not giving ourselves up,” Roak said.

  “Especially when I am about to send us into trans-space!” Hessa yelled.

  The view shield swirled and Roak’s stomach dropped. He gulped air for a second then tried to relax.

  “That decided that,” Roak said. “What I was going to say before we entered trans-space was that I believe this Motherboard person. She wasn’t lying. But I don’t know if her boss is. Who is he?”

  “General Ved Gerber,” Nimm said.

  “Head of FIS?” Roak asked. “How is he in charge of a Drop Team?”

  “I told you that Fleet Intelligence is wrapped up in the Drop Teams, especially Zero,” Nimm said.

  “That’s interesting,” Roak said.

  “Something else that is interesting is they are following us,” Hessa announced. “Not kidding. They have locked onto us and are following right behind.”

  “Take the next portal you can find,” Roak ordered.

  “I was afraid you’d say that,” Hessa said and the ship instantly dropped out of trans-space.

  Roak puked.

  “Eight Million Gods damnit,” he muttered as he spat and wiped his mouth. “Where are we?”

  “Doesn’t matter,” Hessa said. “They dropped out too. They are on us.”

  The ship accelerated and once again everyone was shoved into the backs of their seats.

  “She’s hailing us again,” Nimm said.

  “Ignore it,” Roak replied.

  “They haven’t opened fire, Roak,” Reck said.

  “Because they want us alive,” Roak said.

  “They could try to disable us, but they aren’t,” Reck said. “Think about that.”

  Roak did. “Hessa? How close to the next portal?”

  “There’s only one in this system,” Hessa said. She sent the ship into a deep dive. “Might want to hang on.”

  The ship flipped upside down then spun back upright. There was just the glimpse of another ship speeding past on the view shield before the wormhole portal they had just come through filled their view. Then they were back in trans-space.

  “I would like to apologize for what I am about to do to all of you,” Hessa said. “Truly.”

  “Hessa? What are you about to do?” Roak asked.

  They were back out of trans-space and Roak thought his entire body was going to turn inside out. Then there was flash, a loud screaming, which could have come from any of their throats, and the world went pitch black.

  31.

  Roak came to in a med pod. He wasn’t too surprised.

  His body felt like he’d been run over by a team of Chassfornians. Not the nice Chassfornians he’d met a day or so earlier, but the fully enraged type that killed first, killed second, and never asked questions because questions got in the way of ripping off limbs and killing.

  “Hessa?” Roak called. His throat felt raw and unused. “Hessa? How long have I been in here?”

  “Roak, you’re awake. Good,” Hessa replied over the comms. “I’ll be honest and say that I wasn’t sure if you’d ever wake up.”

  “I always wake up,” Roak said.

  “True. But this time your body had been injured by magma, weakened by your enviro suit being compromised, you suffered a less than elegant moltrans move, and you were subjected to not just one, but several trans-space maneuvers over a less than ideal period. Eighty-five seconds, to be exact. Most bodies cannot handle one of those occurrences, let alone all of them. And your body and the med pods are no longer getting along, just like how you tend not to get along with anyone or anything, really, so no surprise there.”

  “Hessa?”

  “Yes, Roak?”

  “How long have I been in this med pod?”

  “Thirty-two days.”

  Roak tried to sit up, but smacked his head on the med pod lid. He punched at it until the lid opened and he could truly sit up. He looked about the med bay as if that would give him answers. It did not. Except to show him that Yellow Eyes was still in a med pod, as well.

  “He going to make it?” Roak asked. He hopped out of the med pod and waited for his equilibrium to catch up. “How bad did he get hurt?”

  “A lot worse than he let on,” Hessa said. “I didn’t know the extent of the damage until after I was able to get us away from Drop Team Zero.”

  Hessa cleared her virtual throat.

  “What?” Roak asked.

  “You’re welcome,” Hessa said.

  “I didn’t say thank you.”

  “I know.”

  “I’ll say thank you when I find out just how bad off we are. Keeping me in a med pod for thirty-two days does not automatically get you a thank you.”

  “The thank you is for getting us away from the Drop Team, Roak. That was not easy.”

  “Where are Reck and Nimm?”

  “So, you really aren’t going to thank me?”

  “You did your job, Hessa. Do you thank me every time I do my job?”

  “Your job tends to get us into messes that I have to get us out of, so no, I do not thank you for that because you do not deserve a thank you.”

  Roak waited.

  “They’re in the cargo hold with the quantum drives like they have been since they woke up.”

  “How long were they out?”

  “Five days each,” Hessa said. “I can say that the maneuver I pulled off is a one-time occurrence. Not only do I doubt I can perform it again, the odds of any of you surviving a second time are astronomical.”

  “Clothes?”

  “Chair.”

  Roak spotted the chair, walked to it and got dressed.

/>   “Boots and light armor?”

  “Boots are in your quarters. Light armor is wherever they sell light armor. You used your last set.”

  “We’ll need to pick some up as soon as possible. We still have chits, right? Some left over from what Yellow Eyes held back?”

  “Not enough to get you new armor, no.”

  “Have you told Reck and Nimm I’m awake?”

  “I have. They’re happy for you.”

  “I’ll meet them in the cargo hold as soon as I’m done with a steam and a sandwich.” Roak paused. “Unless we’re somewhere that I need to be worried about and should head straight to the bridge. Are we somewhere I should be worried about?”

  “We’re safe,” Hessa replied. “I have let them know you’re getting a steam and some food and will be down to meet them shortly.”

  “Steam might take a while,” Roak said.

  “No, it won’t,” Hessa replied. “I have the ship set to strict rations of resources. You can steam for three minutes and have one protein slice sandwich.”

  “Funny.”

  “Not joking.”

  “We’re that bad off?”

  “We are broke and could not do anything for thirty-two days, Roak. We have enough chits to keep the ship going, but beyond that, we need to figure out finances fast.”

  “I have an idea on how to do that,” Roak said. “Let me talk with Nimm and Reck first.”

  “You do what you need to do, Roak,” Hessa said. “You always do.”

  The comm went silent and Roak waited, but Hessa didn’t continue.

  He made his way to his quarters and stripped off his clothes. Hessa was not joking. He had a three-minute steam and that was all. Roak got dressed again, put on his boots, and went down to the mess for his sandwich.

  It was waiting for him on a tray with a hydration drink. He scarfed down the sandwich, drank the hydration drink, then tried to order a second sandwich.

  “Stop that,” Hessa scolded then went silent again.

  Roak grumbled the entire way down to the cargo hold.

  “Hey, it’s Sleeping”—”

  “Shut it,” Roak said, interrupting Reck. “What have you two figured out with the drives? Make any progress while I was in the med pod?”