She slowly made her way to the communication station, her commandeered exosuit doing the walking for her, step by step.
“Penelope,” Peiun said. “If the EVE aboard the ship were to be disabled—”
“Then I can reactivate that second dormant QEC, and hack into the ship’s internal network,” Penelope said. “I could disable it or have all its data transferred here.”
“What’s the name of the ship you can hack?” Sarah said, turning away from the communication station, after making contact with Earth.
Penelope buried her face in the holo screens around her, reading the data that appeared on it. “It was the lead ship of the fleet, the ESV Marcus Antonius, why?”
“I just received word the Kepler is here in the system,” Sarah said. “They know something isn’t right.”
The Johannes Kepler in the Uelcovis system? How and why it was in the system, was a mystery to those aboard, as confused faces and brief chatter amongst the bridge crew and guests began. Speculation had to wait, however, the Johannes Kepler was in the position to do what the Rezeki’s Rage couldn’t, and that was fight back. If what Sarah said was correct, they already knew who their true enemies were.
“Let us coordinate our efforts with them,” Peiun said. “If they can find a way to disable that EVE, we will be able to gain an advantage.”
“Well, that’s the thing. Their captain is being held aboard the Marcus Antonius against her will. Seems like she’s our best chance to make that happen.”
“Get a message out to the Kepler,” Peiun said, returning to review the tactical data. “Foster is our only hope. The Kepler must do everything they can to set her free and disable the Marcus Antonius’ EVE android.”
50 Foster
ESV Marcus Antonius
Near Uelcovis Space Bridge, Uelcovis system
October 17, 2118, 01:51 SST (Sol Standard Time)
There was a guest waiting for Foster and Chevallier. He stood waiting in the brig next to the cell that was meant for her. Foster and Chevallier froze doing a double-take when they saw the figure that stood waiting for them. He was wearing a charred EVA suit that looked like it was caught in an explosion.
“Moriston,” Chevallier said, grimacing.
“I’ll take it from here, Chevallier,” Moriston said to her.
“Understood.”
She pushed Foster into the firm grip of Moriston. He gestured that Chevallier was free to go—more like she had to go. Before she exited and entered the corridors, he called out to her.
“Chevallier, have you ever considered black ops work?”
She faced him shaking her head. “No, sir.”
“We’re down a number of EDF operatives,” he said. “We could use people like you and your team to replace them.”
Chevallier grinned and left. Moriston did the same after ditching his mangled EVA suit, taking Foster along with him. He took her on a long trek through the corridors of the ship and up an elevator or two. She wondered how anyone on this ship was able to make it to their assigned posts without getting lost. It felt like a fortress in space, rather than a spaceship.
The two entered what Foster thought was the infirmary as there were a number of medical beds lying about. Upon closer inspection, the occupants of the beds were the humanoid Draconian soldiers, stripped out of their armor. The second area of the room unveiled its true nature. It wasn’t an infirmary, it was a bio lab.
One corner had a pile of Draconian weapons and armor placed on tables, most likely to study how it worked. The other side of the room had a number of dragons placed in stasis tubes, while numerous antigravity carts held their oversized eggs, and beds were unoccupied with surgical tools on a tray next to them.
Moriston shut the door behind them. There were no other scientists in the secondary area of the bio lab. Foster was alone with a government spook in a top-secret laboratory. What’s the worst that could happen?
“I suppose you’re wondering why the hell did that government spook bring me here?” Moriston asked her.
“You know, that thought crossed my mind,” Foster said.
“Tell me, Captain, what do you see?”
“Umm junk? Looks like remains of Draconian tech, and dragons about to be anal probed.”
“I see progress; I see humanity taking the correct steps in ensuring its survival in the ruthless and divided galaxy we live in.”
“Ah, c’mon, it ain’t all that bad,” she said lightly.
“Today I watched one of my men blow himself up. I got spaced, then watched one of my most talented psionics sacrifice their life to recover and teleport me back to this ship. So, yes, it is a ruthless and divided place.”
“And here you are, alive and well. You gotta look at the positive things in life.” Her antics weren’t getting to him. His cold glare remained.
Moriston pushed one of the antigravity carts over to Foster and picked up a grey and black oval-shaped object. He needed both hands to do that, it was by no means light.
“These are eggs of the dragons, one of many we acquired from the hatchery on Jacobus.” He placed the egg back and gestured to a stasis tube with small drakes and wyverns inside. They looked young. “And these are actual dragons, some of the many unleashed in the skies of Taxah.”
“Was wondering how those got there,” she said.
“For the last one hundred years, death at the hands of aliens has been the number one cause of death among humans. Did you know that, Captain?”
“I’m sure the Imperial invasion skewed those numbers.”
“Two billion lives lost, you know how many Hashmedai lives were lost? Only a fraction of that number,” Moriston continued. “Today, the Terran Legion will take corrective action and make the Empire repay that debt in full.”
“You call that progress?” Foster snorted. “Murdering two billion Hashmedai?”
“They glassed Earth with their plasma cannons, now we will return the favor and turn Taxah’s most populated cities into a radioactive wasteland with our nukes, ending the reign of the emperor, empress, and all system lords in the process.”
“We have the Draconians to face! Don’t start a war with the people that are supposed to be our allies!”
“They are not our allies and they never will be!” Moriston’s voice grew loud and firm as if she said something that was extremely offensive to him. “The Hashmedai, Radiance . . . all aliens are in this for their own benefit. Aliens are taking advantage of the president’s undying love for them and alien-influenced people, like you. That’s where the Terran Legion comes in, we’re going to take control of this galaxy, and we are going to ensure that aliens never harm humans again by placing humanity as rulers of the galaxy.”
“By what? Wiping them all out?”
“Oh no, that would be far too much work.” Moriston stood in front of a tube staring at the drake floating within it. “We’re going to conquer them, make them do our bidding. Capturing the space bridge in this system will be the first step. Bringing Radiance into the war, will be the second, your friends aboard the Johannes Kepler have already made that mission much easier. As for the third step—”
“You’re going to use the dragons as bio-weapons,” Foster cut in, having realized the crew of the ship had more than enough time to destroy the eggs and dragons they had, but didn’t.
Moriston turned smiling at her. “We’ll eliminate the leaders of the Draconians, by taking control of their pet dragons.”
“The operation in Kapteyn’s Star,” Foster slowly said. “You knew they were breeding. You didn’t want our help to liberate that system or to help me find the monolith, you wanted dragon eggs.”
“Smart isn’t it?”
“Was wondering how you were gonna pull off this whole galactic conquest thingy. All-out war with the Draconians is bad enough, doing that while fightin’ off the Empire and Radiance and any human that opposes you? Impossible, y’all don’t have the numbers or ships for that.”
“Enter
the army of dragons bred to be loyal to humans. This brings us to why you’re here, Foster. Dragons under our control is only half the battle, the other half is activating their technology. You’re going to make that happen for us.”
“I ain’t activating shit for you guys.”
“That’s fine,” he said, pointing at her tattoos, visible from the sleeve that was ripped off her uniform. “Those tattoos are wired into your nervous system. Our doctors are more than willing to gut your fucking body open, yank out those wires and learn how they work. So, make your choice, help us, or we cut you open and help ourselves.”
Foster and Johannes Kepler coming to this system to test the vortex key was a trap. Moriston and his Terran Legion allies needed confirmation of Foster’s abilities. They got that when they entered and exited the maelstrom with the vortex key not exploding like the last one. From there, someone tipped the Terrans off it was time to go forward with their plans. Question was, who? Chevallier? Maxwell and LeBoeuf? Maybe Boyd? He did conveniently vanish before all this started. Or worse . . . perhaps there was someone secretly working for EISS on the Kepler.
“End a war by starting a bunch of others,” Foster said. “Sounds pretty stupid to me, buddy.”
“I fail to see how approaching the Draconian leaders with the message of peace and love will be a better one.”
“I get it, that mission has a chance of failing, but our secondary one is to—”
“Conduct recon, I know. What we need is action, what we need is our armed forces forming the tip of the spear, not explorers who are under alien influence. The report I filed against you and your crew contained a mountain of proof you couldn’t be trusted. And what did the president do? Threw it away, gave you your command back, and handed over the fastest ship in the galaxy to you.”
Moriston paused briefly to check the time, he frowned. “Seems we’ve gotten off topic, haven’t we?” His HNI created a small communication projection of Furnadjiev sitting at his post on the bridge. “Admiral, send me your finest xenobiologists and your expert on Draconian tech.”
“Heh, it’s come down to that, eh?” Furnadjiev transmitted.
Moriston looked at Foster, shaking his head, and then returned to the projection. “She made her choice . . .” A second hologram appeared, displaying live footage of Taxah, he looked at it closely. “Why haven’t we launched the warheads?”
Foster’s wrist terminal beeped while the conversation between Moriston and Furnadjiev continued. She discreetly checked it, there was a text-only message waiting for her to respond.
The Rezeki’s Rage is inbound with a hacker that can stop the Marcus Antonius. You have to disable its EVE AI before they can do that, both of them.
- Odelea
“We’re waiting for the final VIP to be secured, they requested we wait,” Furnadjiev said.
“No more waiting, we are behind schedule!” Moriston roared.
Moriston’s attention was fixed on the small argument he was having with the admiral. It bought Foster enough time to quickly type in her reply.
“We had a deal with them,” Furnadjiev said.
“Both the Imperial and Draconian fleets in the system are our biggest threats to this operation. This has to happen now, Admiral!”
Moriston’s back was still turned when a new message came in. It was a map of the ship that had the location of its AI core circled and a detailed list of instructions on how to disable it. EVE units in this century, however, had a dual existence, one that was part of a ship’s computer system, and the one being the android. Objective number two for Foster was to destroy the EVE android on the bridge.
Get all that done by myself without getting shot, sure, guys, no problem!
“Understood.”
“Give them a few more minutes, and then launch the warheads, Admiral.”
“Evacuation transports from Phylarlie’s manor might depart during that time.”
“Monitor it; none of those transports are to leave the surface. If they do, nuke the planet regardless if the VIP has been secured or not. We went through a lot of trouble to get those specific transports for the evac.”
The projection vanished. Foster stood with her hands behind her back, just in time for Moriston to face her, and aim his pistol at her. “Last chance, Captain.”
Foster said nothing and hoped they’d fail to learn how the tattoos work should this be how her journey through life came to an end. She refused to play a role in making humanity the villainous alien invaders across the stars. Even if it could end the Draconian threat, there was always another way.
Moriston waved his pistol, gesturing to the medical bed Foster was to be dissected on. “Get moving!”
She flipped him the bird and crossed her arms. He was going to have to shoot her and or pull her by the hair to get her on that. He went to do just that.
Then he stopped when the main entrance to the lab was kicked in.
Screaming bellowed, it sounded like soldiers demanding everyone to back off, including the team of doctors that had just entered to probe and cut Foster open. Hard, thumping, armored footsteps followed, at least three pairs of feet.
Moriston confronted the unexpected interruption, as three pairs of rifles held by three members of EDF became visible to the two.
“Chevallier? What the fuck is this?” Moriston roared.
Chevallier lowered her rifle with a confused look on her face, asking Maxwell and LeBoeuf to do the same “Sorry, Moriston, we thought you might have been comprised.”
Maxwell looked about the interior of the lab. His eyes focused on the dragon eggs, captured drakes, and wyverns in stasis. “You said it though, Moriston,” Maxwell said. “What the fuck is this?”
“You three have no authorization to be in here!” Moriston shouted.
Chevallier held up her wrist terminal for him to see. “I was given the same terminal the Johannes Kepler crew uses,” she said. “Someone was sending text-based messages to Foster asking her to disable the EVE. We tried contacting you, but you didn’t respond, and we assumed the worst.”
“Dragon eggs . . .” LeBoeuf said, making a swift tour of the lab as Moriston’s face flushed with anger. “And live . . . dragons. Not to be a copycat, but, what the fuck is this?”
The doctors and experts Moriston had called down pushed past the EDF trio, moving to yank Foster. She thought about moving back, and then realized she accidently placed herself behind a stasis tank with a drake in it. Bad things would have happened if she hit the release button on its front command console.
“Shall we get started, sir?” one of the doctors said to Moriston.
“Yes, I’ll deal with the rest.”
The doctors dragged Foster to the bed. She kicked and flailed her arms about. It took all four of them to restrain her, each one holding onto one of her limbs until her back hit the bed. Chrome-looking bindings released from the sides of the bed, wrapping around her arms and legs, then one final large one across her chest. She couldn’t move, nor breathe, the panic and sense that her end was near was too much.
One doctor ran a medical scanner over her body, while two others viewed the data that appeared on holo screens. They reached for cutting saws and other surgical devices with flashing lights she knew nothing of.
The act made Moriston’s angry face, turn into an evil smirk. He went to address the three EDF personnel that refused to leave and stood watching Foster get prepped for forced tests and dissection.
“Chevallier, you and your team are in a restricted area,” Moriston said to her, pointing to the door. “Leave now and never speak of what you saw. Do I make myself clear?”
“Speak of what? The secret experiments with dragons?” Chevallier said. “Or the experiments on Foster?”
“Y’all believe me now when I said I was set up?!” Foster yelled.
“Chevallier!” Moriston shouted. “Leave now, soldier, or you can kiss that black ops promotion good bye.”
Chevallier stood her ground, he
r team stood with her. “You said Foster was working for the dragons.”
“More like he’s working for them,” Maxwell said.
LeBoeuf glanced at the doctors as they primed their tools and neared Foster. “Just him? I think this whole fucking ship is.”
LeBoeuf charged her psionic powers.
Maxwell powered his psionic rifle.
Chevallier’s rifle joined them in their symphony of defiance.
And Moriston? He did what was predicted, lifting his pistol and for calling for security.
“Can’t y’all put me out like normal doctors?” Foster said, looking up at the handheld cutting device, spinning its blades, and making cringing buzzing noises.
“Alien lovers like you don’t get that luxury,” the doctor said, smirking.
“You two back away from her now!” Chevallier’s rifle switched targets, its targeting scanner zeroing in on the heart of the nearest doctor about to make the first cut. “If anyone is going to end her, it’s me.”
Moriston screamed into his holo communication window. “Guards! Where the fuck are you!?”
What happened to trigger the next violent scene was up for debate. Foster’s eyes were shut, expecting the worst when the doctor moved in. She felt warm fluid stain her uniform and spray across her face, and the sound of the cutting device slice away at flesh, amidst the sounds of rifles and pistols discharging.
She felt no pain.
Looking up, she saw the blood that covered her was of the doctors, all of them terminated with bullets. The doctor that held the cutting device fell upon her, and the device? It landed on top of his chest cutting a gash though it down to his rib cage. She looked around and saw nobody else, while weapons fire continued from behind one of the walls in the bio lab. The ship’s security teams engaged in a gunfight with Chevallier, Maxwell, and LeBoeuf.
The saw was still spinning, spraying crimson liquid in every direction. It was her only means of escape. Foster jerked her thighs about, making the body of the doctor lying on her move, as did the saw. The saw needed to fall into her hand, preferably handle first. She jerked her body again, and it moved. After a third time it came loose from his body, its vibrations forcing it to move about. Another sudden move caused it to fall to the ground. Her hand grabbed its handle before that happened. Moving her restricted hand upward, she carefully used its blade to cut away at bindings around her wrists, a spray of sparks erupting.
Unsanctioned Reprisal Page 43
