Majesty's Offspring (Books 1 & 2)

by AJ Vega

  Chapter 41: Savage Intelligence

  They would take two ships, with twelve marines in each. Julius and Haylek joined Frost’s transport. The catapults in the landing deck were offline, so they would be piloting the ships manually.

  Julius went to the front cabin and asked the marine in the copilot seat to vacate it. The marine hesitated and looked over to Frost, who was piloting.

  “Captain Verndock,” Frost said, “my orders are to take you, and these marines, to the moon’s surface. If we make it there alive, I am to put myself under your command. Until that time, hit the fucking back.”

  Julius could see the two marines put their hands on their sidearms for emphasis—biting his lip he returned to the rear.

  The two transports launched from the Sea Wolf and dove into the moon’s atmosphere.

  “Man, I don’t know how that thing hasn’t blown up yet,” Julius heard a marine say—obviously referring to the Sea Wolf.

  Julius could not bring himself to look through the porthole at the damage, but the look he gave the marine—the kind of look that said “I will rip your intestines out and strangle you with them if you make another remark like that”—silenced him.

  The transports plunged through the atmosphere, without any reprisals from the moon.

  When they finally got to low altitude, Julius gazed out the porthole to see the landscape. He was expecting to see green lattice lines and artificial structures like the original moon from his dreams, but this was different.

  The entire landscape was flat and appeared to be made of a transparent, glass-like material—totally devoid of any visible structure.

  As the ship banked and turned, Julius could see something underneath the transparent ground. When they landed, he would be able to get a better look.

  “There’s breathable atmosphere,” Frosts’ voice sounded on the speakers. “Gravity is one-g; radiation and temperature are within safe levels. But we’ll still be in enviro-gear just in case. We’re landing now, get ready.”

  Julius looked over to Haylek. He had a terminal on his lap and had not yet changed into an enviro-suit.

  “You need to get the suit on,” Julius said to him.

  Haylek shook his head. “I’m supposed to stay in here. The transport shielding will protect me and the jewel.”

  Julius did not understand what role Haylek was supposed to play in this, but Chorus seemed to have all this planned, so he would have to trust it.

  The transport landed. The plan now was to get them near the moon’s factory. When the marines secured the structure, another team would plant a fission antimatter bomb and fly out before it blew.

  Julius inspected his twin Gemini pistols, knowing that the final part of the plan would be delayed. He was going to rescue Chorus first; the bomb would wait until he knew Daryl was saved.

  A glint of light reflected off the metal of the pistols. If the marines tried to stop him, he would need to take action. Nothing was standing in the way of helping Daryl—nothing and nobody.

  Frost walked in from the pilot cabin. He stood in front of Julius and saluted. Julius ignored him, continuing to polish the metal on his pistols. Then he casually holstered them before standing up. He finally saluted back.

  “By order of the Coalition of the Three Worlds, I am now under your command, Captain.”

  “At ease,” Julius said. “Give me a sitrep.”

  “Both transports have safely touched down. We are approximately three hundred meters from the factory entrance. There are no signs of movement and no contact with automated hostile defenses. Nevertheless, ENDS is activated on both transports and we await your orders.”

  “Ends?”

  “Enhanced Nanobot Defense Shield,” Frost said.

  “Ah. So what is the plan?” Julius asked.

  A holographic projection appeared, and they huddled around it. The map showed their current position and the factory entrance, which was easy to pick out since there were no other structures on the whole moon.

  The single structure stood twelve meters tall, emerging from what looked like a hole in the ground. When he looked closer, Julius noticed the structure looked like a crystal.

  “Underneath that structure,” Frost said, “is an opening that leads into the moon’s core. That is the target area where we will plant the bomb.”

  “That looks like a conduit,” Julius said. “Do we have any intelligence on this structure?”

  “Negative, sir,” Frost said. “All we know is that it is directly above the factory output stem, where the nanobots would exit upon production.”

  Julius stared at him. “How does the Confed know all of this?”

  Frost shook his head. “I do not know, sir. I am only reporting the intelligence I was given.”

  Julius knew there was more to this. The Confed knew too much, but he would have to investigate that later—if there was a later.

  “What happens if we are taken out—what’s the backup plan?” Julius asked.

  “If we are killed, the backup team will use the transports to try and drop the bomb themselves into the target area. However, there is less guarantee for success at that point.”

  Julius looked at the marines as they all looked at him. Despite the tough training and discipline they went through, he knew they must felt uneasy about this mission. It was up to him and Frost to keep the façade of bravery going.

  “All right, marines,” Julius said, “we’re about to become pages in a history book. Let’s kill this thing.”

  The marines gave a rallying cry as they readied their suits and weapons. They moved into the pressure bay. Julius gave a look toward Haylek, who was busy on a terminal, seemingly oblivious to everything around him. Julius put his helmet on and joined the others.

  Inside the pressure bay, the exit ramp opened, revealing the alien landscape. Julius, flanked by twelve marines, marched out of the transport. The remaining twelve stayed behind, partly to guard the transports and also to move in with the bomb when called.

  The sky was more blue than green from here—and the ground was indeed glass-like. He peered into it, attempting to see what was underneath. Although there was definitely something underneath it, the murky glass obscured the details.

  As they trekked across the alien landscape, one of the marines suddenly stopped. Alarmed, the others raised their rifles. Julius reflexively drew his pistols. The marine’s eyes were transfixed onto the ground and he wore a terrified expression. “LT,” He pointed down. “Look!”

  They all huddled around him. Underneath the transparent ground was a disturbing sight. A man in a Confed Navy uniform floated below them, in a frozen, statuesque-like pose. It stirred a vision in Julius’ mind of the A.I. Moon and the dream—as if his life was reliving a replay of those days.

  “Nothing we can do for him,” Julius said.

  Another marine called them over to another spot. They walked over to find another uniformed officer in a similar frozen state. Julius knelt down to get a closer look.

  As he peered deeper into the chasm, he could make out the dark silhouettes of more people—hundreds, maybe more—trapped in that suspended state.

  He traced the frozen bodies in his mind, following them across the darkness until his eyes landed on another fossil from the past—something he had not seen in over a hundred years.

  HAMRs!

  A dozen of them— arranged in combat formation, bearing the Delta Black markings on its hull. The same ones from the original moon.

  How did Majesty move them to this moon?

  And then it dawned on him. This was not a new moon… it was the same moon. The same one they thought they destroyed all those years ago. How did Majesty do this?

  “LT, we have to do something,” the marine pleaded with Frost. “That’s Ensign George Brown down there. I’ve known him for years!”

  “Get it together, marine,” Frost said. “We have a mission to accomplish. These men died for
their mission. There’s nothing we can do for them now.”

  An idea occurred to Julius.

  “They’re not dead,” Julius said, “they’re in stasis. I’ve encountered this before.”

  The marines looked to Frost with uncertainty on their faces.

  Frost walked up to Julius and whispered, “What are you doing, Captain? We have a job to do here.”

  “We need to save these people, if we can,” Julius said, “and that’s what we’re going to do first. I’m ordering you to help them, Lieutenant.”

  Frost’s impassiveness broke and he glared at Julius. “Are you out of your mind? How would you intend us to do that? We don’t the equipment to drill into this ground!”

  Julius gestured to the transports. “Use the bomb.”

  Frost moved close to Julius.

  “My orders are to be under your command, unless it contradicts the mission to plant the bomb. If you contradict that mission, Captain …”

  He pointed the end of his rifle at Julius’ rib cage.

  “I have another set of orders I will carry out. Do you get my meaning?”

  Julius smiled at him, pushing the end of the Gemini pistol he held into Frost’s crotch.

  “There will either be a very sad wife or widow at your home—do you get my meaning?”

  The marines, who became aware of the conflict, had their rifles trained on Julius. Laser markers illuminated his chest and head.

  “What’s it going to be, Julius?” Frost asked. “The dead men under the ground, or the dead men that will soon be under the ground? I’m not going to back down.”

  Julius felt he was probably telling the truth. He had hoped to delay the team’s mission with this, so that he could rescue Chorus first—but this was not getting anywhere.

  “All right, Frost,” he said. “I’m holstering my weapon. Let’s continue with the mission.”

  Julius stepped back and put his pistol away. Frost lowered his rifle.

  “You have a lot of mettle in you, Lieutenant,” Julius said. “I could have used someone like you as part of my crew.”

  Frost broke his impassiveness again and smiled. “Funny, I was thinking the same of you.”

  Frost ordered the marines to flank around them again, agreeing to let Julius continue to lead the mission, but this time he walked behind Julius—keeping him in his sights.

  In the distance, the crystal structure loomed. It sat on top of a circular base, with steps around it that led up to the crystal.

  As they got closer, Julius could see a figure standing next to it, but it was still too far to make out who, or what, it was. The marines held their rifles at the ready, taking more cautious steps as they got closer.

  When they got to the top, Julius was able to finally make out the figure: Chorus.

  She was standing still, her eyes closed and head down—the same face he saw in Haylek’s jewel. A couple of tubes came out of her and were tethered to some kind of machine that was a meter away from her.

  “Orders?” Frost whispered.

  “Hold your fire,” Julius said.

  They flanked out around the base of the crystal structure into defensive positions.

  Julius peered at the base of the crystal and saw a half-meter gap around it, a space that led underground. The crystal itself looked similar to the one from the conduit—except larger.

  Julius walked over to Chorus.

  “Chorus, can you hear me?”

  She was non-responsive.

  Julius looked at the machine she was connected to. It looked out of place. It had a terminal, various controls, and a tank of white liquid, which seemed to be feeding Chorus through the tubes.

  “That’s an Elation processor,” Frost said, standing beside him.

  “How do you know that?” Julius asked.

  “I used to take down whole Elation operations in a former job, Captain.”

  “Elation?” Julius asked rhetorically.

  “Team Black,” Frost said, “deliver the package.”

  “Acknowledged,” a voice responded.

  Frost walked over to the crystal and pointed at the gap.

  “We’ll drop the payload in there,” he said. “It will free fall to the core of the moon and blow up inside it. We will have less than two minutes to evac.”

  Julius inspected the tubes coming out of Chorus. He tugged at one of them, but it was firmly inside her. He would have to sever it somehow.

  “Lieutenant, do you have any cutting tools? We need to free her.”

  Frost called over one of the marines, who had a backpack of supplies. He rummaged through it and then came over to Julius with a beam torch in hand. As he approached, Julius was startled to hear an unusual voice.

  “Hello, lil’ ants,” it said.

  The marines whirled around, their rifles leveling at the figure. It was a short man in a black trench coat—his hair closely cropped and black. His facial features looked like Earth… Asian.

  “You need t’step away from m’girl der, marine-boy,” Daniel Chin said. “If ya know what’s good fo ya.”

  Frost took a step forward, and without hesitating, fired at Chin. The other marines joined in the attack.

  Julius crouched down beside Chorus, as reflections of light flashed around them from the flicker fire that ensued.

  Eventually, the shooting stopped, and Chin was lying flat on the ground. Julius could see holes riddling his body and thin strings of smoke floating up from the burnt fabric. His body was still and appeared lifeless.

  Frost approached it, rifle still trained on him.

  “Stay away from him,” Julius warned. “He’s not dead.”

  Frost ignored him, aiming the rifle at Chin’s head.

  “He is now,” he said as he pulled his trigger.

  The flicker fire passed through Chin’s head and disappeared without leaving a mark. Above Frost’s head, the blue streak reappeared and slashed through his helmet, sending Frost down to the ground, dead.

  Daniel Chin’s eyes opened and his reanimated body shot to its feet. He paused a moment, giving the closest marine a cheek-to-cheek smile, then charged at him with inhuman speed.

  Chin grabbed the marine’s arms, and, while kicking with one foot, pulled—ripping them out of their sockets and flinging the bloody limbs onto the ground. The man yelled in agony as he slumped to the ground, blood gushing out and spraying Chin’s face, his smile never vanishing even as the blood painted his white teeth red.

  The other marines moved in, firing at Chin with their rifles, but this time the flicker fire did nothing to him.

  He charged the next marine, grabbing him by the throat. The marine tried to pull his hand off, but his struggle was in vain. The A.I squeezed so hard that it popped the bones and blood vessels in his neck. Blood oozed down Chin’s arm, and he kept squeezing until the head rolled down to the ground.

  Another marine dropped his rifle and went at Chin with a vibro-knife, ramming the blade into his back. Chin looked down at the protruding blade that stuck out of his belly. He forced his hand into his body and pulled the marine’s arm, knife and all, through his belly—the marine stumbled forward and tried in vain to pull away.

  “How does that old nursery rhyme go?” Chin said. “This little piggy went to market…”

  The man yelled in agony as Chin ripped his fingers off, one-by-one—while reciting the rhyme’s verses. The other marines stood still, seemingly stunned by the A.I.’s power and savagery.

  “…and this little piggy went, wee wee wee,” Chin finished and let go. The marine stumbled away, holding his fingerless and bleeding hand.

  Chin turned to him and laughed—and continued to laugh—even as he rammed his fists inside the marine’s torso, ripping bones out of his rib cage. Ignoring the yelling and struggling from the man, he casually tossed the ribs at the feet of the other marines, one by one. Mercifully, the battered man expired, falling to the ground, his eyes star
ing on lifelessly.

  Covered in blood, Chin went after the other ones. Some of them tried to run, some of them tried to fight, either way the result was the same. Chin flew at them, dispatching them in other grisly and inventive ways.

  Before long only one remained. The last marine managed to run off the base of the structure and continue off into the landscape, toward the transports.

  Daniel Chin watched him run, then reached down and picked up a bloody rib from the ground. He inspected the rib for a moment, then ran his hand up it—manifesting a sharp point at its end.

  He then drew his hand back and flung the bone at the running marine. The projectile twirled in the air at least twenty meters on its way to its target—imbedding itself into the back of the marine’s skull.

  The man fell forward to the ground, at the feet of another group of marines who were on their way with the bomb. They looked at the macabre scene and stood still, apparently in shock.

  Chin ignored the marines and the bomb, chuckling as he turned to Julius. As he approached, Chin licked the blood from his teeth and fingers, as if he savored the taste.

  “You must be the pirate captain.” His voice was different now, devoid of the slum accent. “The one that cost old Jack Dagiri his dreams.”

  Julius stood up. Despite everything he had been through in over a century of warfare, his hands were trembling at the sight of the killing rampage he’d just witnessed.

  “You must be Chorus’ brother—Daniel Chin,” Julius said, trying to keep his voice steady. “From what I’ve seen, you definitely take more after your mother than Chorus.”

  Chin smiled, then an eruption of nanobots engulfed him and his form changed.

  He was now an old man, with white hair and a long white beard that draped over a grey robe. Chin’s eyes continued to glow blue, betraying the façade of the human visage he created.

  “I am many things,” Chin said, “and many people. I am the culmination of trillions of computations made by Majesty—and the billions of neural pathways that I absorbed into my being from those humans who crossed my path.”

  Chin motioned to the Elation processor.

  “Dagiri brought me the last piece I needed. However tiny it might have been in comparison to the rest of me, his neural contribution helped me bring my sister to her knees.”

  Julius looked at the tubes. He now understood its purpose.

  “You have her hooked on Elation?” he asked. “So you can control her?”

  Chin tilted his head and shrugged. “I know, I know. It wasn’t the most elegant solution, but it had the virtue of being most original, and of course, it worked—somewhat anyway.”

  Chin walked up to Chorus’ inanimate form and looked at her sleeping face.

  “She is quite stubborn, you see,” he said. “She held back as much as she could, but in the end, the potency of Elation was just too much for even her to resist.”

  Chin touched the umbilical Elation pump.

  “How ironic isn’t it?” he said. “That a primitive human addiction would be the thing that mesmerizes a being of such supreme power and elegance.”

  Chin planted a kiss on Chorus’ forehead.

  “I beguile thee with my spellbinding kiss, sister,” Chin said with a laugh.

  He returned his attention to Julius.

  “My sister is intelligent—we are of the same brood after all—she must have anticipated all of this. So the knowledge that I require is no longer inside her—it is somewhere else. Where I do not know.”

  He paced around Chorus as he spoke.

  “She was very thorough in this.  In fact, she was so thorough that she even erased the knowledge of where she put the knowledge.”

  Chin chuckled at that, then pointed a finger at Julius.

  “You—you know where it is, I suspect. Unfortunately, this knowledge is probably buried in your short-term memory. So if I download your mind into mine, I won’t get that information and the knowledge will die with you.

  “Therefore, I must resort to other means,” he said, gesturing to the bodies on the ground. “I will torture you, your entire crew, Laina, and everyone else that matters to you. Whatever it takes to get what I want and there is nothing you or any human can do to stop me.”

  Chin approached Julius and paused, staring down at him with those glowing blue eyes. Julius braced himself for what would probably be coming.

  “You can prevent this ugly business,” Chin finally said, “if you simply tell me where she hid the data.”

  Julius shook his head. “I don’t have it and I don’t know where it—”

  Suddenly, Julius felt himself lift off the ground and fly back against the crystal. He was pinned against it, and every nerve in his body came alive with the most intense pain he had ever felt—like he was on fire—but the pain was not just on his skin, it was everywhere: his tongue, his eyes, the tips of his toes. His entire being was on fire.

  “Tell me where it is,” he heard Chin’s voice boom.

  The pain abruptly stopped.

  “Speak,” Chin said.

  Julius tried to catch his breath. The experience left him in a daze and his muscles continued to spasm from the trauma. He looked up at Chin, trying to focus on the old man’s face.

  “I …” Julius managed. “I… don’t know.”

  Chin scowled at him; the blue light from his eyes became blinding.

  “Then die!” Daniel Chin roared.

  Julius felt his body stretched and pulled by an invisible force—his limbs stretching out from their sockets, his neck beginning to snap. His final thought was of Laina; the way he could feel her when she fell on top of him on the bridge—her hair draped on him, her eyes, her feminine smell intoxicating him. He wished he could have been with her, but it was now too late. He failed her—and his crew.

  The last thing Julius saw was his body being ripped apart: his limbs flying away from his torso, his insides erupting out of his belly. It happened so fast that the pain barely had enough time to register before his world turned into a frozen, still black.

   Julius Verndock, the once captain of the dreaded pirate ship the Sea Wolf, was dead.