The Long Night of Wilhelm Reich
- Thread starter reiver33
- Start date
- Status
Sorry about the typos and Dax/Dex (again), it's what comes of just sitting down and battering away...
Seven
One step forward, two bloody steps back. I moved to the side and motioned Frazer forward.
“Stim this joker again. I need him in the same universe as the rest of us.”
Frazer jabbed him and Leitz convulsed; coughing, choking, red faced and veins standing out on his forehead and neck. For a moment I thought he was going to croak and wondered how I’d write this up, then Leitz coughed again and blinked rapidly.
He looked around, trying to get his bearings.
“We have to get off this ship immediately! Someone is trying to use my equipment and the results could be disastrous if-“
“Whoa there, Doctor. Just take it easy. I’ve got three men missing in the starboard cargo bay and I need to know what’s going on in there. This equipment of yours, it’s the orgone accumulator you were going on about, yeah?”
He peered at me, trying to get a glimpse of my face through the inner visor. I figured he was one of those admin types who work best when they can read the other person.
“Yes, yes, exactly. And it could prove extremely dangerous if mishandled. You must understand-“
“Hush, doc, just a minute. I need to know how it works.”
Leitz blinked, and I could tell from his face he was mentally dumbing down his usual spiel before continuing.
“Ah, well, there have always been scientists, visionaries, who instinctively grasped the idea of a universal life-force that is common to all living things. Wilhelm Reich called it orgone energy, but it’s also been known as vital élan, Odic force-“
I prodded him in the chest with my rifle.
“Less of the history lesson, doc, I meant what it does, what effect it has on people.”
“Ah, ah, well. Simply put, it allows the transfer of orgone energy from the donor to the recipient. The accumulator makes you stronger, quicker, more intelligent, more alive, for a given duration. The benefits to-”
“Hang on, hang on. This transfer process, what happens to the donor?”
Leitz blinked, almost squirming, and I could see caution creep into his eyes.
“Yes, well, at present we’re unable to regulate the transfer flow as accurately as we would wish. In the majority of cases the donor material is completely drained of energy, but this is only a temporary setback and-“
There was a hard knot in my gut and I felt my finger tighten on the trigger.
“You’re saying you’re killing people to make others smarter? Give me one good reason why-“
Leitz looked genuinely aghast.
“Good God, no, no! Use live donor subjects? We’re still some distance from that stage. We use body parts from amputations, cadavers bequeathed to science. Less than ideal as the life-force starts to dissipate rapidly, but sufficient to-“
“OK, OK, I get it! It’s all humane and above board. But I still need to know what you do with these bits of human once you get them on the slab.”
The doctor turned huffy.
“Get them on the what? For your information we use molecular deconstruction to ensure maximum contact with the extractor filaments, and then dispose of the biological waste material in accordance with all relevant safety protocols.”
As I tried to work out what that meant, Hughes chipped in.
“He means a meat shredder, boss. It’s like a big shower cubicle. I used to work in a render plant and one of those puppies could convert a carcase to protein slurry in nothing flat. We kept the skeleton for processing into bone meal but you can ramp up the charge so everything just falls apart. I heard some worlds use them for executions, ‘cos it’s so quick.”
I glanced over at him.
“So it can’t be used as a weapon? Aimed over any distance?”
“Naw, you need an ionised base plate. Strictly a static piece of kit.”
I nodded to myself as that was one less thing to worry about. Going in, all guns blazing, against an unknown enemy was one thing – simply turning to mush as soon as they had line of sight was quite another.
“OK, Doctor Leitz, it looks like someone has been feeding colonists into the shredder, so I want to know what’s happened to the guy on the receiving end of all this juice.”
He went pale.
“Ah, ah, how many donors are we talking about?”
I shrugged.
“Your guess is as good as mine. There were four hundred plus on this ship when it left Tigris and we’ve come across damn few bodies so far. You’re the only survivor.”
“No, no, there was another ship! It docked and if it’s not still here then I’m sure some of the passengers got aboard and escaped. There was a riot, I could hear it even from inside the storage cupboard. Then it went quiet.”
I really wanted to rub my eyes as his story was giving me a headache. Just when I thought I had a handle on things he went and complicated matters.
“Yeah, doc, about what happened. How come you ended up lashing yourself down? Without your helmet and other kit you wouldn’t have survived an explosive decompression, if that’s what you were afraid of, so what gives?”
Leitz went a bit unfocused, as if trying to shy away from the memory itself.
“Ah, after the gravity switched there was a lot of confusion, obviously, but then the intercom told us to remain in our modules and everything would be fine. We’d be notified before things were turned the right way up. I knew what was really going on, of course, and I had all my research material ready for transhipment, but then-“
Gotcha.
“You knew? You knew what, doc?”
He gaped at me, caught stumbling over the truth, and started gabbling.
“I don’t know what happened, truly! They didn’t tell me the details of what was planned but I insisted, I absolutely insisted, that no one get hurt when they seized control of the ship. My team and my equipment would be transferred to another vessel and we’d be long gone before the crew managed to free themselves.”
He was panting, on the edge of hyperventilation, but I let him rant.
“But no one came for us and then I started to hear a voice, my own voice, in my head, suggesting I go to the cargo bay. Not a command, just an idea, like it was the most natural thing in the world. I’ve, I’ve had neural therapy in the past. I recognised this as akin to a post-hypnotic suggestion. But my team wouldn’t listen to me, they all wanted to leave the module. I couldn’t stop them. One by one.”
Leitz started winding down like a toy with a spent battery.
“People going past. One by one. Tied myself in. Local anaesthetic, both hands. Couldn’t undo the knots. People going past. For hours. Then screaming. Then nothing.”
He passed out and his head lolled to one side.
In the silence I heard the ping of Frazer’s motion tracker.
“Sarge, something’s moving, and it ain’t us!”
Seven
One step forward, two bloody steps back. I moved to the side and motioned Frazer forward.
“Stim this joker again. I need him in the same universe as the rest of us.”
Frazer jabbed him and Leitz convulsed; coughing, choking, red faced and veins standing out on his forehead and neck. For a moment I thought he was going to croak and wondered how I’d write this up, then Leitz coughed again and blinked rapidly.
He looked around, trying to get his bearings.
“We have to get off this ship immediately! Someone is trying to use my equipment and the results could be disastrous if-“
“Whoa there, Doctor. Just take it easy. I’ve got three men missing in the starboard cargo bay and I need to know what’s going on in there. This equipment of yours, it’s the orgone accumulator you were going on about, yeah?”
He peered at me, trying to get a glimpse of my face through the inner visor. I figured he was one of those admin types who work best when they can read the other person.
“Yes, yes, exactly. And it could prove extremely dangerous if mishandled. You must understand-“
“Hush, doc, just a minute. I need to know how it works.”
Leitz blinked, and I could tell from his face he was mentally dumbing down his usual spiel before continuing.
“Ah, well, there have always been scientists, visionaries, who instinctively grasped the idea of a universal life-force that is common to all living things. Wilhelm Reich called it orgone energy, but it’s also been known as vital élan, Odic force-“
I prodded him in the chest with my rifle.
“Less of the history lesson, doc, I meant what it does, what effect it has on people.”
“Ah, ah, well. Simply put, it allows the transfer of orgone energy from the donor to the recipient. The accumulator makes you stronger, quicker, more intelligent, more alive, for a given duration. The benefits to-”
“Hang on, hang on. This transfer process, what happens to the donor?”
Leitz blinked, almost squirming, and I could see caution creep into his eyes.
“Yes, well, at present we’re unable to regulate the transfer flow as accurately as we would wish. In the majority of cases the donor material is completely drained of energy, but this is only a temporary setback and-“
There was a hard knot in my gut and I felt my finger tighten on the trigger.
“You’re saying you’re killing people to make others smarter? Give me one good reason why-“
Leitz looked genuinely aghast.
“Good God, no, no! Use live donor subjects? We’re still some distance from that stage. We use body parts from amputations, cadavers bequeathed to science. Less than ideal as the life-force starts to dissipate rapidly, but sufficient to-“
“OK, OK, I get it! It’s all humane and above board. But I still need to know what you do with these bits of human once you get them on the slab.”
The doctor turned huffy.
“Get them on the what? For your information we use molecular deconstruction to ensure maximum contact with the extractor filaments, and then dispose of the biological waste material in accordance with all relevant safety protocols.”
As I tried to work out what that meant, Hughes chipped in.
“He means a meat shredder, boss. It’s like a big shower cubicle. I used to work in a render plant and one of those puppies could convert a carcase to protein slurry in nothing flat. We kept the skeleton for processing into bone meal but you can ramp up the charge so everything just falls apart. I heard some worlds use them for executions, ‘cos it’s so quick.”
I glanced over at him.
“So it can’t be used as a weapon? Aimed over any distance?”
“Naw, you need an ionised base plate. Strictly a static piece of kit.”
I nodded to myself as that was one less thing to worry about. Going in, all guns blazing, against an unknown enemy was one thing – simply turning to mush as soon as they had line of sight was quite another.
“OK, Doctor Leitz, it looks like someone has been feeding colonists into the shredder, so I want to know what’s happened to the guy on the receiving end of all this juice.”
He went pale.
“Ah, ah, how many donors are we talking about?”
I shrugged.
“Your guess is as good as mine. There were four hundred plus on this ship when it left Tigris and we’ve come across damn few bodies so far. You’re the only survivor.”
“No, no, there was another ship! It docked and if it’s not still here then I’m sure some of the passengers got aboard and escaped. There was a riot, I could hear it even from inside the storage cupboard. Then it went quiet.”
I really wanted to rub my eyes as his story was giving me a headache. Just when I thought I had a handle on things he went and complicated matters.
“Yeah, doc, about what happened. How come you ended up lashing yourself down? Without your helmet and other kit you wouldn’t have survived an explosive decompression, if that’s what you were afraid of, so what gives?”
Leitz went a bit unfocused, as if trying to shy away from the memory itself.
“Ah, after the gravity switched there was a lot of confusion, obviously, but then the intercom told us to remain in our modules and everything would be fine. We’d be notified before things were turned the right way up. I knew what was really going on, of course, and I had all my research material ready for transhipment, but then-“
Gotcha.
“You knew? You knew what, doc?”
He gaped at me, caught stumbling over the truth, and started gabbling.
“I don’t know what happened, truly! They didn’t tell me the details of what was planned but I insisted, I absolutely insisted, that no one get hurt when they seized control of the ship. My team and my equipment would be transferred to another vessel and we’d be long gone before the crew managed to free themselves.”
He was panting, on the edge of hyperventilation, but I let him rant.
“But no one came for us and then I started to hear a voice, my own voice, in my head, suggesting I go to the cargo bay. Not a command, just an idea, like it was the most natural thing in the world. I’ve, I’ve had neural therapy in the past. I recognised this as akin to a post-hypnotic suggestion. But my team wouldn’t listen to me, they all wanted to leave the module. I couldn’t stop them. One by one.”
Leitz started winding down like a toy with a spent battery.
“People going past. One by one. Tied myself in. Local anaesthetic, both hands. Couldn’t undo the knots. People going past. For hours. Then screaming. Then nothing.”
He passed out and his head lolled to one side.
In the silence I heard the ping of Frazer’s motion tracker.
“Sarge, something’s moving, and it ain’t us!”
Last edited:
Here you go then (I've already written up to episode 10).
Eight
“Frazer, talk to me!”
He moved the tracker from side to side, and slapped it.
“Ah, intermittent contact, Sarge, but definitely from that direction.”
He gestured along the lateral access corridor. I could see right through the ship to the starboard airlock and there was nothing there. Maybe just a slight blurring of detail down the far end, like looking though a light mist, but that could just have been distortion in my helmet optics. However, I wasn’t in the mood to take chances.
“Right, listen up. Dax, take the doctor and stash him on the flight deck. And get back here pronto.”
I could hear the grin in his voice.
“Wouldn’t want to miss the party, boss.”
Dax towed the unresisting Leitz away and I turned to face the remaining members of my squad.
“Okay, you three, a line on me, set your weapons to max. Frazer, I don’t care if we can’t see anything, you call out the distance on any contacts.”
“Roger that, Sarge. Damn thing won’t lock on. Best guess is-“
“I see it!”
Hughes sounded eager rather than nervous and I looked round. The mist was swirling, thickening, turning into a substantial reddish-grey cloud. It filled the corridor and I got the impression than even if there’d been gravity it wouldn’t simply be flowing across the deck. There was no real sense of movement, but the distance between it and us started to shrink.
The smart move was to fall back on the port airlock, taking Leitz and Teal with us if time allowed. Maybe even evac via the scout ship and wait for the Persephone to arrive – then kick this entire mess upstairs for the brass to sort out. The smart move.
But, but…
Never leave a man behind.
The Marine ethos, way older than any motto or slogan or mission statement, it was handed out along with your first pair of boots. I had three men MIA and my gut instinct was to get in there and find them, dead or alive.
“Sarge, this is Dax. I’m on the flight deck and Leitz is safely stowed away. Teal is awake though and shouting his mouth off. So far I’ve been threatened with court marshal, the penal colony on New Basra and summary execution, not necessarily in that order. You want I should slug him again?”
“No, Dax, wait one.”
I turned to Frazer.
“Frazer, when you popped the inner airlock door, was there any kind of alarm? It didn’t register before now but no pressure doors closed in response to this whole area being open to space. You pull any fancy moves back there?”
“What? Ah, no, Sarge, honest. There was a manual release on the door but it didn’t have no special warnings or nothing.” He looked up and down the corridor, “I see what you mean though, it would be damn easy to vent almost the entire ship.”
“Sorry to interrupt but that crud is getting awful close. You planning to suck it out into space then, Sarge?”
“Considered it, Hughes, but I don’t know if our missing Marines are still suited up…Dax, you there?”
“At your command.”
“Check the bulkhead door release system, like before. Something is stopping the automatic systems from kicking in. Double-time, Dax, we’re running out of corridor down here.”
“I’m on it…Shut it, Teal!...Oh, right…Sarge, I got a ship schematic on the screen and Teal has come over all Mr Helpful. He tells me all the compartment doors have been set to manual. It’s dead easy though, even Hughes could work this. Just tell me which one to close.”
I upped the magnification on my optics.
“Ah, the first door on the lateral access corridor, right of the junction with the spine.”
“That would be…section S-Twelve. Should be closing…now!”
A four-way pressure door slid shut, blocking off the advancing cloud. There were expressions of relief, mostly profane, but I tuned them out.
“Dax, good work. Now stand fast as I’m coming up. I want another word with our Major Teal.”
When I got there Dax was checking out Leitz (not looking good) and Teal was fit to burst; red-faced and eyes like glittering obsidian. I was in no mood for more of his bluster.
“Teal, don’t start, don’t even think about it. You’re no more Alliance than I am the Pasha of Cairo Station. Tell me what you know about this mess and I’ll make sure you get off this tub alive. Do we understand each other?”
He glared at me.
“I’m disturbed by your lack of faith, Sergeant, but I suppose there are some inconsequential details concerning this mission I’m free to share with you. What is it you wish to know?”
Jeez, where to begin?
“Right, for starters, what’re we facing out there? From what Leitz said I was expecting some kind of supercharged one-man killing machine, but all we got is a moving cloud of crud that could be disintegrated bodies.”
His eyes narrowed.
“That’s classified.”
“That’s ********. You don’t know either. Okay, what was Leitz and his equipment even doing aboard the Sookin Sin in the first place? If this project is so damned important I’d expect to see it on a regular Alliance transport, under heavy guard. Not being moved by a two-bit cloak and dagger op that seems to have come apart in truly spectacular fashion.”
Teal laughed – more a short bark of derision.
“The good doctor didn’t tell you? Well, his orgone project, his life’s work, was shut down and further research banned. I believe the official term is ‘proscribed technology’. Of course he was devastated and when a corporate sponsor offered him a new base of operations, even out here on a Frontier world, he jumped at the chance.”
I frowned.
“No questions asked?”
“Apparently he even accepted that the threat of industrial espionage meant travelling on a civilian colony ship.”
“But surely he realised this whole hijacking and transhipment plan was way more than your standard level of corporate subterfuge? This is a military zone now, and any investigation wouldn’t simply fall to some venial Customs and Colonisation officials who could be bought off.”
Teal’s eyes smiled.
“Sorry to disabuse you, Sergeant, but in the Core systems your so-called pacification program doesn’t even register in the public consciousness. Even on the other Frontier worlds it’s largely ignored – it’s just something that’s happening to other people.”
He gestured towards Dax with a jerk of his head.
“You, him, even me, out here we’re all just forgotten men.”
Eight
“Frazer, talk to me!”
He moved the tracker from side to side, and slapped it.
“Ah, intermittent contact, Sarge, but definitely from that direction.”
He gestured along the lateral access corridor. I could see right through the ship to the starboard airlock and there was nothing there. Maybe just a slight blurring of detail down the far end, like looking though a light mist, but that could just have been distortion in my helmet optics. However, I wasn’t in the mood to take chances.
“Right, listen up. Dax, take the doctor and stash him on the flight deck. And get back here pronto.”
I could hear the grin in his voice.
“Wouldn’t want to miss the party, boss.”
Dax towed the unresisting Leitz away and I turned to face the remaining members of my squad.
“Okay, you three, a line on me, set your weapons to max. Frazer, I don’t care if we can’t see anything, you call out the distance on any contacts.”
“Roger that, Sarge. Damn thing won’t lock on. Best guess is-“
“I see it!”
Hughes sounded eager rather than nervous and I looked round. The mist was swirling, thickening, turning into a substantial reddish-grey cloud. It filled the corridor and I got the impression than even if there’d been gravity it wouldn’t simply be flowing across the deck. There was no real sense of movement, but the distance between it and us started to shrink.
The smart move was to fall back on the port airlock, taking Leitz and Teal with us if time allowed. Maybe even evac via the scout ship and wait for the Persephone to arrive – then kick this entire mess upstairs for the brass to sort out. The smart move.
But, but…
Never leave a man behind.
The Marine ethos, way older than any motto or slogan or mission statement, it was handed out along with your first pair of boots. I had three men MIA and my gut instinct was to get in there and find them, dead or alive.
“Sarge, this is Dax. I’m on the flight deck and Leitz is safely stowed away. Teal is awake though and shouting his mouth off. So far I’ve been threatened with court marshal, the penal colony on New Basra and summary execution, not necessarily in that order. You want I should slug him again?”
“No, Dax, wait one.”
I turned to Frazer.
“Frazer, when you popped the inner airlock door, was there any kind of alarm? It didn’t register before now but no pressure doors closed in response to this whole area being open to space. You pull any fancy moves back there?”
“What? Ah, no, Sarge, honest. There was a manual release on the door but it didn’t have no special warnings or nothing.” He looked up and down the corridor, “I see what you mean though, it would be damn easy to vent almost the entire ship.”
“Sorry to interrupt but that crud is getting awful close. You planning to suck it out into space then, Sarge?”
“Considered it, Hughes, but I don’t know if our missing Marines are still suited up…Dax, you there?”
“At your command.”
“Check the bulkhead door release system, like before. Something is stopping the automatic systems from kicking in. Double-time, Dax, we’re running out of corridor down here.”
“I’m on it…Shut it, Teal!...Oh, right…Sarge, I got a ship schematic on the screen and Teal has come over all Mr Helpful. He tells me all the compartment doors have been set to manual. It’s dead easy though, even Hughes could work this. Just tell me which one to close.”
I upped the magnification on my optics.
“Ah, the first door on the lateral access corridor, right of the junction with the spine.”
“That would be…section S-Twelve. Should be closing…now!”
A four-way pressure door slid shut, blocking off the advancing cloud. There were expressions of relief, mostly profane, but I tuned them out.
“Dax, good work. Now stand fast as I’m coming up. I want another word with our Major Teal.”
When I got there Dax was checking out Leitz (not looking good) and Teal was fit to burst; red-faced and eyes like glittering obsidian. I was in no mood for more of his bluster.
“Teal, don’t start, don’t even think about it. You’re no more Alliance than I am the Pasha of Cairo Station. Tell me what you know about this mess and I’ll make sure you get off this tub alive. Do we understand each other?”
He glared at me.
“I’m disturbed by your lack of faith, Sergeant, but I suppose there are some inconsequential details concerning this mission I’m free to share with you. What is it you wish to know?”
Jeez, where to begin?
“Right, for starters, what’re we facing out there? From what Leitz said I was expecting some kind of supercharged one-man killing machine, but all we got is a moving cloud of crud that could be disintegrated bodies.”
His eyes narrowed.
“That’s classified.”
“That’s ********. You don’t know either. Okay, what was Leitz and his equipment even doing aboard the Sookin Sin in the first place? If this project is so damned important I’d expect to see it on a regular Alliance transport, under heavy guard. Not being moved by a two-bit cloak and dagger op that seems to have come apart in truly spectacular fashion.”
Teal laughed – more a short bark of derision.
“The good doctor didn’t tell you? Well, his orgone project, his life’s work, was shut down and further research banned. I believe the official term is ‘proscribed technology’. Of course he was devastated and when a corporate sponsor offered him a new base of operations, even out here on a Frontier world, he jumped at the chance.”
I frowned.
“No questions asked?”
“Apparently he even accepted that the threat of industrial espionage meant travelling on a civilian colony ship.”
“But surely he realised this whole hijacking and transhipment plan was way more than your standard level of corporate subterfuge? This is a military zone now, and any investigation wouldn’t simply fall to some venial Customs and Colonisation officials who could be bought off.”
Teal’s eyes smiled.
“Sorry to disabuse you, Sergeant, but in the Core systems your so-called pacification program doesn’t even register in the public consciousness. Even on the other Frontier worlds it’s largely ignored – it’s just something that’s happening to other people.”
He gestured towards Dax with a jerk of his head.
“You, him, even me, out here we’re all just forgotten men.”
Nine
He was right, of course. They’d started calling it ‘pacification’, like we were here to calm things down and not kicking in doors, hauling citizens from their beds in the dead of night. At the last briefing we were up against political malcontents, not separatists, not insurgents and definitely not rebels. Corporal Hanks lost his stripes for using the R-word, even in a navy bar on Paris Station.
The Heimat movement were a bunch of Frontier worlds who objected to the colonisation levy – resources which kept the expansion program going. They said we should be developing what we had, not spreading humanity even thinner amongst the stars. All those M-class worlds weren’t going anywhere, and it wasn’t like there was anything new to find, anyway. Personally I sympathised, but officially they were the bad guys and in the Marines you check your politics at the door.
What Teal had said just clicked and I brought my rifle up.
“Teal, you called it ‘your so-called pacification program’. That’s not Regs, that’s not even being a smart-ass. That’s talk will get you busted and a month walking the line, even for a hot-shot operative like you.”
“Really, Sergeant, even someone as limited as you must realise a man in my position is allowed a certain degree of latitude when it comes to-“
“You’re Heimat. A Heimat agent, here to screw up whatever deal Leitz had cooked up with his new corporate backer. Am I right or does Dax here have to beat it out of you?”
He said nothing. I sighed.
“Look, Teal, in about two minutes time that pressure door opens and we go looking for our buddies. It stays open, as does the flight deck hatch, so if that cloud is lethal it’ll eventually reach you as well. If you want to survive this, even if it’s only to end up in a detention centre, you’d better start talking.”
We stared at each other, long and hard, but Teal blinked first. He shrugged.
“There are, or were, two of us aboard. A sympathiser alerted us to the orgone project and we immediately realised what it could mean for the movement.”
“Well, from what I’ve seen so far, it doesn’t pose much of a threat. Unless you’re planning to smuggle it aboard Alliance ships and turn the crews to chutney one-by-one.”
He shook his head.
“The Heimat can’t hope to defeat the Alliance military, it’s hopeless. Even our navy is just a few cargo ships with retrofit weaponry, courtesy of certain corporations who are keen to keep this conflict going for as long as possible. Just hit and run tactics to keep you spread out, so that the economic blockade has holes.”
“Look, Teal, enough already. Tell me something useful, man, it’s your life on the line as well.”
He shook his head.
“Don’t you understand? The orgone accumulator represents a chance to outthink the Alliance. There could be an entirely new solution to this conflict which lets everyone walk away satisfied, if you just give us the chance.” An edge crept into his voice, “Don’t you ever question the strategy behind your actions?”
I gave up and checked my weapon.
“I’m a Marine, Teal, a grunt. I don’t need to understand the big picture, even if I wanted to. Personally my ambition is to get three up, three down - that’s Master Sergeant to the uninitiated. Everything else is just orders and loyalty.”
“Damn straight, boss.”
“Thanks, Dax. Right, we’re moving out.”
“You’ve no idea what you’re facing, Sergeant, believe me.”
“Well, I guess I’ll find out soon enough. See you soon, Teal, or not at all. Dax, give me a ten-count start, open the pressure door, and then get your ass on the line.”
“Sweet. Just don’t start without me, Sarge. Baz owes me twenty and I mean to collect.”
I rejoined the other three in the corridor just before the door ahead of us opened. The cloud was maybe twenty metres away, a slow-swirling mass that almost seemed to be watching us, but that was just my imagination. The tracker started a rhythmic pinging.
“I got…Hell, I don’t know what I got.”
Frazer sounded excited, nervous, and I placed a hand on his shoulder.
“No need for that now, Marine. Firing line.”
Dax came hustling up and joined us. I took a deep breath, conscious of the slight antiseptic tang in the air my suit provided. More Marine units went down in ‘last stand’ situations than any other branch of the service. Probably a combination of pig-headedness and lack of back-up – too much space, not enough manpower.
In the cloud, something moved.
It was like watching a body disintegrate, but in reverse. Small white flecks swarmed together, becoming a spine, ribs, bones, a skull. Muscles grew on the skeleton, and lungs, a windpipe, but no other discernable organs. The bulk of the torso filled up with grey crud, fleshing it out until you could tell it was becoming a man. Skin fragments clustered together, creating a covering of uncertain ethnicity, and was followed by brownish hair, cut close. Finally clothes, of sorts - a seamless one-piece of brownish-grey, with a multi-coloured hue.
The remaining cloud shrank back, collapsing in on itself, as if sucked back down the corridor. It vanished round the junction that led to the starboard cargo bay.
The approximate man opened pure-white eyes and took a breath.
“I’m here to negotiate. I have three lives to barter with. Either we come to an agreement or everyone on board will die.”
He was right, of course. They’d started calling it ‘pacification’, like we were here to calm things down and not kicking in doors, hauling citizens from their beds in the dead of night. At the last briefing we were up against political malcontents, not separatists, not insurgents and definitely not rebels. Corporal Hanks lost his stripes for using the R-word, even in a navy bar on Paris Station.
The Heimat movement were a bunch of Frontier worlds who objected to the colonisation levy – resources which kept the expansion program going. They said we should be developing what we had, not spreading humanity even thinner amongst the stars. All those M-class worlds weren’t going anywhere, and it wasn’t like there was anything new to find, anyway. Personally I sympathised, but officially they were the bad guys and in the Marines you check your politics at the door.
What Teal had said just clicked and I brought my rifle up.
“Teal, you called it ‘your so-called pacification program’. That’s not Regs, that’s not even being a smart-ass. That’s talk will get you busted and a month walking the line, even for a hot-shot operative like you.”
“Really, Sergeant, even someone as limited as you must realise a man in my position is allowed a certain degree of latitude when it comes to-“
“You’re Heimat. A Heimat agent, here to screw up whatever deal Leitz had cooked up with his new corporate backer. Am I right or does Dax here have to beat it out of you?”
He said nothing. I sighed.
“Look, Teal, in about two minutes time that pressure door opens and we go looking for our buddies. It stays open, as does the flight deck hatch, so if that cloud is lethal it’ll eventually reach you as well. If you want to survive this, even if it’s only to end up in a detention centre, you’d better start talking.”
We stared at each other, long and hard, but Teal blinked first. He shrugged.
“There are, or were, two of us aboard. A sympathiser alerted us to the orgone project and we immediately realised what it could mean for the movement.”
“Well, from what I’ve seen so far, it doesn’t pose much of a threat. Unless you’re planning to smuggle it aboard Alliance ships and turn the crews to chutney one-by-one.”
He shook his head.
“The Heimat can’t hope to defeat the Alliance military, it’s hopeless. Even our navy is just a few cargo ships with retrofit weaponry, courtesy of certain corporations who are keen to keep this conflict going for as long as possible. Just hit and run tactics to keep you spread out, so that the economic blockade has holes.”
“Look, Teal, enough already. Tell me something useful, man, it’s your life on the line as well.”
He shook his head.
“Don’t you understand? The orgone accumulator represents a chance to outthink the Alliance. There could be an entirely new solution to this conflict which lets everyone walk away satisfied, if you just give us the chance.” An edge crept into his voice, “Don’t you ever question the strategy behind your actions?”
I gave up and checked my weapon.
“I’m a Marine, Teal, a grunt. I don’t need to understand the big picture, even if I wanted to. Personally my ambition is to get three up, three down - that’s Master Sergeant to the uninitiated. Everything else is just orders and loyalty.”
“Damn straight, boss.”
“Thanks, Dax. Right, we’re moving out.”
“You’ve no idea what you’re facing, Sergeant, believe me.”
“Well, I guess I’ll find out soon enough. See you soon, Teal, or not at all. Dax, give me a ten-count start, open the pressure door, and then get your ass on the line.”
“Sweet. Just don’t start without me, Sarge. Baz owes me twenty and I mean to collect.”
I rejoined the other three in the corridor just before the door ahead of us opened. The cloud was maybe twenty metres away, a slow-swirling mass that almost seemed to be watching us, but that was just my imagination. The tracker started a rhythmic pinging.
“I got…Hell, I don’t know what I got.”
Frazer sounded excited, nervous, and I placed a hand on his shoulder.
“No need for that now, Marine. Firing line.”
Dax came hustling up and joined us. I took a deep breath, conscious of the slight antiseptic tang in the air my suit provided. More Marine units went down in ‘last stand’ situations than any other branch of the service. Probably a combination of pig-headedness and lack of back-up – too much space, not enough manpower.
In the cloud, something moved.
It was like watching a body disintegrate, but in reverse. Small white flecks swarmed together, becoming a spine, ribs, bones, a skull. Muscles grew on the skeleton, and lungs, a windpipe, but no other discernable organs. The bulk of the torso filled up with grey crud, fleshing it out until you could tell it was becoming a man. Skin fragments clustered together, creating a covering of uncertain ethnicity, and was followed by brownish hair, cut close. Finally clothes, of sorts - a seamless one-piece of brownish-grey, with a multi-coloured hue.
The remaining cloud shrank back, collapsing in on itself, as if sucked back down the corridor. It vanished round the junction that led to the starboard cargo bay.
The approximate man opened pure-white eyes and took a breath.
“I’m here to negotiate. I have three lives to barter with. Either we come to an agreement or everyone on board will die.”
Ten
I stepped forward – it comes with the stripes.
“I’m Sergeant Cooper, you talk to me, after you release my men. The Alliance doesn’t negotiate with-“
“Terrorists?” The approximate man tried to smile but it was like watching jerky animation produced by children, “That’s a political term, Sergeant, and the situation we find ourselves in is much more personal, don’t you agree? What I propose is that we keep this between ourselves, and you can tell your superiors any version of events that can be supported by the remaining physical evidence.”
“Wordy *******, ain’t he, Sarge.”
“Yeah, Hughes, but if it means we get Tommo and the others back in one piece, I’ll keep listening.”
I lowered my weapon, a pointless gesture given that there was enough firepower at my back to overthrow your typical starter colony, but a gesture nonetheless.
“So, we get our lads back, alive. Then what?”
“You and your men leave this ship, but Doctor Leitz remains on board.”
I nodded.
“Okay, I can live with that. What about Major Teal?”
“Major Teal?” The approximate man laughed, but it like the recording of a single outburst, replayed several times. “He’s been hiding from me these last few days, as if I wasn’t to be trusted. I admit he’s useful, in his own limited way, but he lacks vision. I take it you want him?”
“Damn straight I want him. I suspect he’s a Heimat agent, as are you. For the record is there any particular name and title you go by? ”
“What I was is immaterial, Sergeant, but you can call me Dorman. And yes, Teal and I came aboard to secure the accumulator, or at least ensure it didn’t fall into the wrong hands. He got a job as Purser, in charge of colonist management and on-board security. As such the hijackers paid him handsomely to look the other way and give them free run of the ship. I trust you appreciate the irony.”
“They seize the ship, their ride shows up, you take them down.”
“More or less, Sergeant, more or less. Teal and I were able to ambush the boarding party quite easily. They were over-confident, blind to the possibility of opposition. I hit upon the idea of using the accumulator to dispose of their bodies, while Teal went aboard their ship and killed the remaining two crew members. We intended to take the good doctor and his equipment, leaving only a mystery behind.”
The Dorman figure cocked its head to one side, in a kind of quizzical pose, although this opened up a tear on its neck which might have made lesser men queasy.
“But you’re being disingenuous, Sergeant, which isn’t an appealing trait at the best of times, and certainly not now. You haven’t raised the subject of what fate befell the colonists and crew.”
I shrugged.
“I guess that while Teal was away playing assassin you decided to try out the hot seat, seeing as how it was all juiced up, yeah? What happened? Big flash of light and, blow me, suddenly you’re God? Once you got a taste you couldn’t stop, and the colonists were next on the menu.”
My mouth was dry and I took a sip of distilled water from my suit before going on.
“Leitz said you got inside their heads, made them walk into the cargo bay and they didn’t come out. I figure you chopped them into goo and sucked out their souls. He might tart it up in more scientific language, but that’s about the long and short of it.”
Dorman tried laughing again but I couldn’t see the funny side.
“In this case, Sergeant, the end really does justify the means, for this device heralds a new dawn for humanity. Take me for example, who would have guessed I had dormant psychic abilities? This body is merely a manifestation of my new powers, an example of telekinesis. I also exhibit clairvoyance and clairaudience, by proxy.”
I snorted.
“Is all that supposed to mean something?”
“I can influence someone’s actions through suggestion. I can move objects by merely wishing it to happen. I can see and hear what another person sees and hears. Is that plain enough?”
“I’m reading you five by five, Dorman, but it’s also plain your fancy tricks don’t work on us, right? You can’t get through the suits? Otherwise you’d have us walking out the airlock without helmets or shooting each other. So you need to cut a deal.”
A ripple ran though his shoulders – probably his version of a shrug.
“Yes, Sergeant, you and your men are safe from any remote influence. Up close and personal, as the saying goes, is quite another manner. As your three comrades found out. Look, I want you off the ship and you want your men back, it is that simple.”
I just couldn’t see what Dorman stood to gain. He’d had his fill of colonists and released the remainder, who promptly panicked. Well, I can sure understand that scenario. Arrogance had cost him the other ship though, as someone with piloting skills got aboard while he revelled in his new powers. I figured he’d been using those left behind on the Sookin Sin to top up his orgone energy over the last couple of days, to the extent that even Teal hid himself away. Dorman had to realise that the hostages were his only bargaining chip, yet seemed content to just give them away.
“You’ll still be trapped here, Dorman, so why not just surrender? It’s obvious Teal doesn’t know how to normalise the gravity field and without that any FTL jump will be suicide.”
“Then you have nothing to lose by leaving. Do we have a deal?”
His attitude made me uneasy. Maybe the dead AG unit – thanks Dax – made a difference? Maybe without the artificial environment to compete with he’d be able to create his own personal version? Still, in the long run it didn’t really matter.
Dorman, the real Dorman, couldn’t show his face outside the cargo bay with us still on board or we’d just waste him. We were invulnerable behind the bulkhead doors and had the air to sit tight until the Persephone reached us.
However, like all junkies he was getting desperate, and like all junkies he might turn nasty if pushed too far. The rest of us might be safe but Tommo, Baz and Hooker had their heads on the block.
So I could afford to take his offer, which I’d write up as a ‘tactical withdrawal’. Once we were back on the scout ship even Harrison’s pissant autocannon was enough to trash the flight deck avionics, leaving the Sookin Sin dead in space. All I had to do was get my men out in one piece and we’d be laughing. Behind my visor I tried not to grin.
“We have a deal. Hand my men over.”
The approximate man stared at me for what seemed like a long, long time. Maybe I sounded cocky, or something in my body language betrayed me, I don’t know. When he spoke there was a real sense of finality in his voice.
“No.”
I heard the creak of suits as everyone tensed up, myself included. It was Showtime.
“FIRE!”
I stepped forward – it comes with the stripes.
“I’m Sergeant Cooper, you talk to me, after you release my men. The Alliance doesn’t negotiate with-“
“Terrorists?” The approximate man tried to smile but it was like watching jerky animation produced by children, “That’s a political term, Sergeant, and the situation we find ourselves in is much more personal, don’t you agree? What I propose is that we keep this between ourselves, and you can tell your superiors any version of events that can be supported by the remaining physical evidence.”
“Wordy *******, ain’t he, Sarge.”
“Yeah, Hughes, but if it means we get Tommo and the others back in one piece, I’ll keep listening.”
I lowered my weapon, a pointless gesture given that there was enough firepower at my back to overthrow your typical starter colony, but a gesture nonetheless.
“So, we get our lads back, alive. Then what?”
“You and your men leave this ship, but Doctor Leitz remains on board.”
I nodded.
“Okay, I can live with that. What about Major Teal?”
“Major Teal?” The approximate man laughed, but it like the recording of a single outburst, replayed several times. “He’s been hiding from me these last few days, as if I wasn’t to be trusted. I admit he’s useful, in his own limited way, but he lacks vision. I take it you want him?”
“Damn straight I want him. I suspect he’s a Heimat agent, as are you. For the record is there any particular name and title you go by? ”
“What I was is immaterial, Sergeant, but you can call me Dorman. And yes, Teal and I came aboard to secure the accumulator, or at least ensure it didn’t fall into the wrong hands. He got a job as Purser, in charge of colonist management and on-board security. As such the hijackers paid him handsomely to look the other way and give them free run of the ship. I trust you appreciate the irony.”
“They seize the ship, their ride shows up, you take them down.”
“More or less, Sergeant, more or less. Teal and I were able to ambush the boarding party quite easily. They were over-confident, blind to the possibility of opposition. I hit upon the idea of using the accumulator to dispose of their bodies, while Teal went aboard their ship and killed the remaining two crew members. We intended to take the good doctor and his equipment, leaving only a mystery behind.”
The Dorman figure cocked its head to one side, in a kind of quizzical pose, although this opened up a tear on its neck which might have made lesser men queasy.
“But you’re being disingenuous, Sergeant, which isn’t an appealing trait at the best of times, and certainly not now. You haven’t raised the subject of what fate befell the colonists and crew.”
I shrugged.
“I guess that while Teal was away playing assassin you decided to try out the hot seat, seeing as how it was all juiced up, yeah? What happened? Big flash of light and, blow me, suddenly you’re God? Once you got a taste you couldn’t stop, and the colonists were next on the menu.”
My mouth was dry and I took a sip of distilled water from my suit before going on.
“Leitz said you got inside their heads, made them walk into the cargo bay and they didn’t come out. I figure you chopped them into goo and sucked out their souls. He might tart it up in more scientific language, but that’s about the long and short of it.”
Dorman tried laughing again but I couldn’t see the funny side.
“In this case, Sergeant, the end really does justify the means, for this device heralds a new dawn for humanity. Take me for example, who would have guessed I had dormant psychic abilities? This body is merely a manifestation of my new powers, an example of telekinesis. I also exhibit clairvoyance and clairaudience, by proxy.”
I snorted.
“Is all that supposed to mean something?”
“I can influence someone’s actions through suggestion. I can move objects by merely wishing it to happen. I can see and hear what another person sees and hears. Is that plain enough?”
“I’m reading you five by five, Dorman, but it’s also plain your fancy tricks don’t work on us, right? You can’t get through the suits? Otherwise you’d have us walking out the airlock without helmets or shooting each other. So you need to cut a deal.”
A ripple ran though his shoulders – probably his version of a shrug.
“Yes, Sergeant, you and your men are safe from any remote influence. Up close and personal, as the saying goes, is quite another manner. As your three comrades found out. Look, I want you off the ship and you want your men back, it is that simple.”
I just couldn’t see what Dorman stood to gain. He’d had his fill of colonists and released the remainder, who promptly panicked. Well, I can sure understand that scenario. Arrogance had cost him the other ship though, as someone with piloting skills got aboard while he revelled in his new powers. I figured he’d been using those left behind on the Sookin Sin to top up his orgone energy over the last couple of days, to the extent that even Teal hid himself away. Dorman had to realise that the hostages were his only bargaining chip, yet seemed content to just give them away.
“You’ll still be trapped here, Dorman, so why not just surrender? It’s obvious Teal doesn’t know how to normalise the gravity field and without that any FTL jump will be suicide.”
“Then you have nothing to lose by leaving. Do we have a deal?”
His attitude made me uneasy. Maybe the dead AG unit – thanks Dax – made a difference? Maybe without the artificial environment to compete with he’d be able to create his own personal version? Still, in the long run it didn’t really matter.
Dorman, the real Dorman, couldn’t show his face outside the cargo bay with us still on board or we’d just waste him. We were invulnerable behind the bulkhead doors and had the air to sit tight until the Persephone reached us.
However, like all junkies he was getting desperate, and like all junkies he might turn nasty if pushed too far. The rest of us might be safe but Tommo, Baz and Hooker had their heads on the block.
So I could afford to take his offer, which I’d write up as a ‘tactical withdrawal’. Once we were back on the scout ship even Harrison’s pissant autocannon was enough to trash the flight deck avionics, leaving the Sookin Sin dead in space. All I had to do was get my men out in one piece and we’d be laughing. Behind my visor I tried not to grin.
“We have a deal. Hand my men over.”
The approximate man stared at me for what seemed like a long, long time. Maybe I sounded cocky, or something in my body language betrayed me, I don’t know. When he spoke there was a real sense of finality in his voice.
“No.”
I heard the creak of suits as everyone tensed up, myself included. It was Showtime.
“FIRE!”
limubai2000
Active Member
I can't wait for the next installment reiver!
I'm conflicted on the Aliens and Star Wars lines. As a geek I love them but as an aspiring writer I'd say you should replace them. Every time I read one it pulls me out of your new world and back into the movies. Ditto with pulse rifles.
I think the PsiCorp thing works though because of the angle you used. Maybe you could alter the name to like PsiGroup or something instead(?) to put some distance between the story and B5 for example.
I don't think you need to change how the dialogue is presented, it works quite well as it stands now.
I'm conflicted on the Aliens and Star Wars lines. As a geek I love them but as an aspiring writer I'd say you should replace them. Every time I read one it pulls me out of your new world and back into the movies. Ditto with pulse rifles.
I think the PsiCorp thing works though because of the angle you used. Maybe you could alter the name to like PsiGroup or something instead(?) to put some distance between the story and B5 for example.
I don't think you need to change how the dialogue is presented, it works quite well as it stands now.
At some point I'll sit down and go through the finished narrative, looking for those references which are too derivative - honest! In terms of ethos I see it as B5/BSG style marines in my head - and the 'Star Wars' line comment threw me completely. Anyway, almost there...
Eleven
Four snub-nose assault rifles and a long-barrelled minigun, at less than twenty metres range. The Dorman meat puppet fell apart, its torso obliterated. For a moment it looked like it would reform, as all we were doing was making holes in mush, but then the head and limbs dissipated into a red-grey mist.
“Cease fire! Squad, advance. Double-time.”
We moved down the corridor at a fair pace; a lolloping jog, five abreast.
“We just win that one, or what?”
“Tactical draw, Dax. I’d like to say it proved too much effort for Dorman to keep that meat stick together, but it had probably served its purpose.” I went external comms, “Harrison?”
“Here, boss.”
“We’re going in. I want you in place to strafe forward of the starboard airlock if we need covering fire while withdrawing. Or if we don’t make it out. Got that?”
“Jeez, well, I ain’t seen the specs but even a junker like this probably has a double-skin hull, maybe even self-sealing. From close in I can maybe punch enough holes to cause decompression, if that’s what you’re aiming for.”
“I’d prefer the bad guys wiped out in a hail of gunfire, but set it up anyway.”
“Roger that. Good luck, boss.”
Frazer came on, sounding fired up but brittle.
“What about that cloud when we get in there, Sarge? Tommo and the others couldn’t stop it by shooting.”
We reached the junction. Round the corner was the short corridor leading to the starboard cargo bay.
“Squad, halt! Change magazines. Listen up, all of you. Before, that was just one or two guys at a time. Now the cloud will have to handle all five of us at once, and we know what we’re looking for. Dorman, the real Dorman, is holed up in there. Just one guy, armed for sure, but we nail him and its game over. Whatever happens just keep firing. Everyone ready? Follow me.”
“Fukin A, budda”.
That from Grozny, who pretty much summed it up. I smiled despite myself and led the squad round the corner. Right into my worst nightmare.
Tommo, Baz and Hooker.
****.
Hesitation is a virus that can spread through a squad in nothing flat, but even I didn’t want to open fire on our buddies. They stood there, completely plastered in red-grey crud, immobile. All three had their assault rifles ready; double magazines, a trick Dorman no doubt picked up while watching us through the eyes of good Doctor Leitz.
Tommo, Baz and Hooker – all dead, I was sure of it, but that didn’t really help. Sometimes, though, being an NCO means playing the heartless ******* well enough to fool even yourself.
I fired, they fired, everybody fired.
It was a shooting gallery. Nothing in any of my training or simulations or combat had prepared me for a situation where both sides just stood there and blazed away at close range. We had more firepower but they had the advantage of being dead, and I was out of options.
Our suits were standard EVA rig with attached sections of armour to cover all vital areas. In theory. In practice enough firepower would find and exploit minor gaps, leading to anything from minor flesh wounds to full body penetration. Fighting an animated corpse meant resisting the temptation to nail the head or torso and concentrate on the limbs. It proved well-nigh impossible, and our former buddies turned into a mass of glittering ricochets.
Bullets gouged holes in every wall, shattering most of the corridor lights.
They concentrated on Grozy first, as his minigun was the major threat. He took multiple hits down his right side and sagged, the gout of fire from his multi-barrelled weapon drifting across the corridor. Baz lost his left arm at the elbow, to no appreciable effect, and Hooker his right foot – simply pulverised. Grozy lost his grip and the minigun stuttered to a halt, his right arm hanging.
The ammunition counter in my helmet display dropped like a falling elevator.
“Harrison, open fire!”
Holes and bulges appeared in the right hand wall, some penetrating rounds just drifting, others still dangerous. Atmosphere must have started to vent through the punctured hull, but it was difficult to tell.
Hooker took a direct autocannon hit on the faceplate that shattered his head. He kept firing, dispelling any lingering doubts we might have had about what we were facing.
Frazer released his weapon and hung there, blood pumping from his thigh.
Baz lost his right hand and his rifle drifted away, propelled by the final recoil.
My ammo hit zero.
Hughes took a hit on his breastplate that ricocheted up and under his neck ring. He lifted a hand towards his throat but the movement just petered out and he swayed backwards.
“Sarge, the autocannon is out and I’m not sure what damage it did. Sarge?”
There was no time to reply. I reached for my pistol, fumbling with the last breaching round. I felt multiple hits on my faceplate as Tommo used me for target practice. The HUD, infrared and low-light augmentation all packed in, leaving me half blind, aiming at muzzle flashes.
I felt rather than heard the gun go off.
Tommo disintegrated above the waist. The shaped charge warhead punched straight through his chest and spine, tearing him in two. Arms and head spun free, tethered to the ruined body only by wisps of muscle and sinew.
What remained of Hooker got a jam and stopped firing.
Dax changed magazines and I saw blood drifting from his left arm.
The whole thing lasted little more than a minute.
I remembered to breathe.
Grozy fumbled and pulled out his machete left-handed. As a heavy weapons specialist he also carried a sidearm and had managed to exchange the standard 9mm pistol for this ‘cultural weapon’. It was all written up and I never asked how he managed it.
I holstered my pistol and plucked Frazer’s rifle from the air as it drifted by. My nose itched.
“Squad, squad…****”.
Even in the uncertain light I could see tendrils of red-grey mist winding their way out of the darkened cargo bay. Not a solid mass as before, but I didn’t know if that was a good sign or not.
I muttered to myself, “Sod this for a game of soldiers.”
“Harrison! Starboard airlock for an immediate dust-off. We have casualties.”
“Roger that, Sarge.”
Deep breath.
“Dax, take Hughes. I’ll get Frazer. Grozy, starboard airlock, get the door open. Now move!”
I disengaged his boots and began pulling Frazer down the corridor. He flailed at me half-heartedly, which was a good sign, but Hughes was just inert. The mist thickened into long twists like heavy braids of hair.
Grozy had the inner airlock door open by the time we reached him. We shepherded the wounded inside and I paused, suddenly feeling incredibly tired. Dax stood on the threshold and looked at me, the mist and back again.
“What about Teal and Leitz, boss? Or do we write them up as incidental casualties?”
I swore under my breath.
“Dax, I’m promoting you to acting Corporal. Get on that ship and come pick me up, port side. I’ll be bringing our two friends.”
“Teal is an enemy combatant and Leitz is responsible for all this crap, so I could see them both far enough. We’ve lost enough real friends for one day and I’d rather not lose another.”
“Then bloody well make sure you’re there, waiting. I’ve done enough mucking about outside to earn my EVA bonus this month and I’d rather not push my luck.”
“Roger that, Sarge. Be seeing you.”
The inner door closed. I was barely half way to the flight deck when Harrison came on, all urgent.
“Sarge, we have a problem. I’m detecting an energy build up aboard the Sookin Sin, an FTL signature. I’ll have to stand off before she jumps, or tries to, and that doesn’t give you much time. Maybe four, five minutes, tops.”
“Roger that, Harrison. Give me as long as you can, but get the squad clear as a priority. And don’t let Dax boss you about. Cooper out.”
I set my wrist timer to four minutes. The clock was running.
Eleven
Four snub-nose assault rifles and a long-barrelled minigun, at less than twenty metres range. The Dorman meat puppet fell apart, its torso obliterated. For a moment it looked like it would reform, as all we were doing was making holes in mush, but then the head and limbs dissipated into a red-grey mist.
“Cease fire! Squad, advance. Double-time.”
We moved down the corridor at a fair pace; a lolloping jog, five abreast.
“We just win that one, or what?”
“Tactical draw, Dax. I’d like to say it proved too much effort for Dorman to keep that meat stick together, but it had probably served its purpose.” I went external comms, “Harrison?”
“Here, boss.”
“We’re going in. I want you in place to strafe forward of the starboard airlock if we need covering fire while withdrawing. Or if we don’t make it out. Got that?”
“Jeez, well, I ain’t seen the specs but even a junker like this probably has a double-skin hull, maybe even self-sealing. From close in I can maybe punch enough holes to cause decompression, if that’s what you’re aiming for.”
“I’d prefer the bad guys wiped out in a hail of gunfire, but set it up anyway.”
“Roger that. Good luck, boss.”
Frazer came on, sounding fired up but brittle.
“What about that cloud when we get in there, Sarge? Tommo and the others couldn’t stop it by shooting.”
We reached the junction. Round the corner was the short corridor leading to the starboard cargo bay.
“Squad, halt! Change magazines. Listen up, all of you. Before, that was just one or two guys at a time. Now the cloud will have to handle all five of us at once, and we know what we’re looking for. Dorman, the real Dorman, is holed up in there. Just one guy, armed for sure, but we nail him and its game over. Whatever happens just keep firing. Everyone ready? Follow me.”
“Fukin A, budda”.
That from Grozny, who pretty much summed it up. I smiled despite myself and led the squad round the corner. Right into my worst nightmare.
Tommo, Baz and Hooker.
****.
Hesitation is a virus that can spread through a squad in nothing flat, but even I didn’t want to open fire on our buddies. They stood there, completely plastered in red-grey crud, immobile. All three had their assault rifles ready; double magazines, a trick Dorman no doubt picked up while watching us through the eyes of good Doctor Leitz.
Tommo, Baz and Hooker – all dead, I was sure of it, but that didn’t really help. Sometimes, though, being an NCO means playing the heartless ******* well enough to fool even yourself.
I fired, they fired, everybody fired.
It was a shooting gallery. Nothing in any of my training or simulations or combat had prepared me for a situation where both sides just stood there and blazed away at close range. We had more firepower but they had the advantage of being dead, and I was out of options.
Our suits were standard EVA rig with attached sections of armour to cover all vital areas. In theory. In practice enough firepower would find and exploit minor gaps, leading to anything from minor flesh wounds to full body penetration. Fighting an animated corpse meant resisting the temptation to nail the head or torso and concentrate on the limbs. It proved well-nigh impossible, and our former buddies turned into a mass of glittering ricochets.
Bullets gouged holes in every wall, shattering most of the corridor lights.
They concentrated on Grozy first, as his minigun was the major threat. He took multiple hits down his right side and sagged, the gout of fire from his multi-barrelled weapon drifting across the corridor. Baz lost his left arm at the elbow, to no appreciable effect, and Hooker his right foot – simply pulverised. Grozy lost his grip and the minigun stuttered to a halt, his right arm hanging.
The ammunition counter in my helmet display dropped like a falling elevator.
“Harrison, open fire!”
Holes and bulges appeared in the right hand wall, some penetrating rounds just drifting, others still dangerous. Atmosphere must have started to vent through the punctured hull, but it was difficult to tell.
Hooker took a direct autocannon hit on the faceplate that shattered his head. He kept firing, dispelling any lingering doubts we might have had about what we were facing.
Frazer released his weapon and hung there, blood pumping from his thigh.
Baz lost his right hand and his rifle drifted away, propelled by the final recoil.
My ammo hit zero.
Hughes took a hit on his breastplate that ricocheted up and under his neck ring. He lifted a hand towards his throat but the movement just petered out and he swayed backwards.
“Sarge, the autocannon is out and I’m not sure what damage it did. Sarge?”
There was no time to reply. I reached for my pistol, fumbling with the last breaching round. I felt multiple hits on my faceplate as Tommo used me for target practice. The HUD, infrared and low-light augmentation all packed in, leaving me half blind, aiming at muzzle flashes.
I felt rather than heard the gun go off.
Tommo disintegrated above the waist. The shaped charge warhead punched straight through his chest and spine, tearing him in two. Arms and head spun free, tethered to the ruined body only by wisps of muscle and sinew.
What remained of Hooker got a jam and stopped firing.
Dax changed magazines and I saw blood drifting from his left arm.
The whole thing lasted little more than a minute.
I remembered to breathe.
Grozy fumbled and pulled out his machete left-handed. As a heavy weapons specialist he also carried a sidearm and had managed to exchange the standard 9mm pistol for this ‘cultural weapon’. It was all written up and I never asked how he managed it.
I holstered my pistol and plucked Frazer’s rifle from the air as it drifted by. My nose itched.
“Squad, squad…****”.
Even in the uncertain light I could see tendrils of red-grey mist winding their way out of the darkened cargo bay. Not a solid mass as before, but I didn’t know if that was a good sign or not.
I muttered to myself, “Sod this for a game of soldiers.”
“Harrison! Starboard airlock for an immediate dust-off. We have casualties.”
“Roger that, Sarge.”
Deep breath.
“Dax, take Hughes. I’ll get Frazer. Grozy, starboard airlock, get the door open. Now move!”
I disengaged his boots and began pulling Frazer down the corridor. He flailed at me half-heartedly, which was a good sign, but Hughes was just inert. The mist thickened into long twists like heavy braids of hair.
Grozy had the inner airlock door open by the time we reached him. We shepherded the wounded inside and I paused, suddenly feeling incredibly tired. Dax stood on the threshold and looked at me, the mist and back again.
“What about Teal and Leitz, boss? Or do we write them up as incidental casualties?”
I swore under my breath.
“Dax, I’m promoting you to acting Corporal. Get on that ship and come pick me up, port side. I’ll be bringing our two friends.”
“Teal is an enemy combatant and Leitz is responsible for all this crap, so I could see them both far enough. We’ve lost enough real friends for one day and I’d rather not lose another.”
“Then bloody well make sure you’re there, waiting. I’ve done enough mucking about outside to earn my EVA bonus this month and I’d rather not push my luck.”
“Roger that, Sarge. Be seeing you.”
The inner door closed. I was barely half way to the flight deck when Harrison came on, all urgent.
“Sarge, we have a problem. I’m detecting an energy build up aboard the Sookin Sin, an FTL signature. I’ll have to stand off before she jumps, or tries to, and that doesn’t give you much time. Maybe four, five minutes, tops.”
“Roger that, Harrison. Give me as long as you can, but get the squad clear as a priority. And don’t let Dax boss you about. Cooper out.”
I set my wrist timer to four minutes. The clock was running.
limubai2000
Active Member
Sorry, my fault. While I was writing the post I thought it was "I find your lack of faith disturbing..."
Keep it coming, it's really good. Love the dilemma you placed them in.
StormFeather
Just passing
More brilliance! My heart was in my throat as I read the fight scene - you have a true story-telling gift.
Thank you
Thank you
Final post...
Twelve
At the junction to the flight deck I paused and looked back, trying to judge if I had enough time to untie Teal and get out before the mist cut us off. I didn’t know how Dorman had managed to fire up the FTL drive but it meant I couldn’t simply seal us in and wait for the cavalry.
The tendrils were flowing along the corridor walls, undulating like snakes. They looked a bit like the sea worms that had scared me shitless as a rookie on Aqua Fortis, my first tour. For a moment I wondered if Dorman had finally managed to get inside my head, but with all of my past to choose from he could have pulled out something far, far worse.
I figured I would try being a hero and turned towards the flight deck.
The hatch was sealed, deadlocked from inside..
Well, that solved the mystery of how the Sookin Sin was preparing to jump. Dorman was piloting by proxy, using either Teal or Leitz. I didn’t have the time or hardware to force my way in and I didn’t think that knocking politely would have much effect.
Marine, you are leaving.
Back in the lateral access corridor I could see a clear run to the port airlock, well ahead of everything Dorman had chasing me. The ship shuddered.
“Sarge, this is Harrison. The port airlock is a no-go. I repeat, the port airlock is a no-go. The modules are detaching, drifting clear of the spine, and I can’t set up an approach vector in the time remaining. Do you copy?”
“Jesus, Harrison, what do you expect me to do now? Hail a passing taxi and catch you guys back at Andorra Reach?”
“Dorsal airlock, boss. The way we came in. I’ve got a good access and exit route along the spine.”
“You bloody better be there, fly-boy, or you are so on a charge.”
“Roger that.”
I started down the spinal corridor, conscious of how damn long it looked. The access panels on either side were going red as modules detached in pairs, the sequence running fore to aft. Flashing amber warning lights indicated the ship was in pre-jump mode and I’d better get my sorry ass into a gravity seat, pronto.
Hitching a ride into oblivion didn’t hold much appeal and I tried to up the pace, but there are limits to what mag boots can cope with. My suit had detected the extra effort and had upped the oxygen content I was breathing, to the extent I was feeling almost light headed. A small NavyNet icon appeared in my peripheral vision, indicating the Persephone was now in communications range.
“Persephone, Persephone, this is Lazy Gun Two requesting an immediate fire mission. Acknowledge.”
Nothing.
“Persephone, Per-“
“Lazy Gun Two, this is Persephone fire control. State target and mission profile.”
“Broken Arrow, Broken Arrow, Broken Arrow. Cerebus, Cerebus, Cerebus.”
Well, that would get their attention and no mistake. I’d just called in a triple-strike nuclear fire mission on my own location, indicating my unit was lost or about to be overrun. From where I was standing that wasn’t much of a stretch and it was the only way I had to screw Dorman.
“Lazy Gun Two, wait one.”
Grunts like me don’t get to call down the heavy hammer, especially on their own heads, but with the Lieutenant out I was officially mission leader. The comms channel carried voiceprint and biometric ID, along with standard IFF, but I knew how much trouble this would cause.
“Lazy Gun Two, this is Holster. Cooper, what the hell is going on over there?”
As if my day couldn’t get any worse. ‘Holster’ was Major Mann, head Marine honcho aboard the Persephone and a real ball-breaker. He was going to take a lot of convincing, preferably with flip charts.
“Major! I’m declaring a mission emergency and-“
Someone shot me in the back.
Stabbing pain, right shoulder blade down to left hip.
“Warning, suit integrity compromised. Warning, air tank one rupture. Warning, power cell one failure. Warning, power cell three failure. Warning, communications failure.”
I hate that synthesised bitch, I really do.
My suit cut power to the mag boots, aiming to keep the environmental systems going for as long as possible. I stumbled forward and momentum pitched me into a shallow, twisting, dive along the corridor, rifle spinning away.
Teal stood behind me, holding a gun.
Of course he had a gun, dumbo, and you forgot to look for it, even after Dorman told you they’d ambushed the hijackers. There it was, large calibre, gas-powered, silent. Easily stashed in a flight deck locker.
“You really should have taken me at face value, Sergeant, it would have simplified matters no end. Now I have to-“
Single shot, right temple.
Teal’s head jerked back, framed by a fan of blood. His arms splayed wide and the gun drifted from his hand. I kept turning.
Dax hung from the dorsal airlock, upside down from my perspective, rifle in one hand. With the other he reached out and grabbed my forearm, bringing me to a halt. We were both pulled up into the airlock by Grozy, who was holding Dax by the leg.
The inner door closed.
I blinked.
“Sarge! Sarge, wake up!”
I blinked. I was aboard the scout ship, strapped in, no helmet. Dax was talking to me, visors open, a used stim in his hand. I was aware of other marines around me but couldn’t focus.
I coughed. It hurt.
“Casualties?”
“Hughes didn’t make it, boss, and Frazer is looking a bit iffy. Grozy has multiple bullet wounds down his right arm but will be reporting for duty come Friday, so he says. You’re pretty banged up and we’ve immobilised you on general principles. Got that?”
“Yeah, I guess.”
Dax grinned.
“Harrison is currently burning out the engines to put as much distance between us and the Sookin Sin as possible. Flash communication from the Persephone. I don’t know what you did, but it’s happening about-“
Searing light filled the cabin. I closed my eyes against it and the burning afterimage looked like Teal, in profile. We shook, there were shouts, an alarm, instantly silenced, laughter.
“Get some!”
I opened my eyes to see Dax looking out the small viewport, his eyes screwed almost shut against the glare.
“Big nukes, multiple detonations. Lot of distortion though, like from a jump event, or maybe a drive explosion.”
He sat back.
“Think we nailed him, boss?”
I tried to shrug but my shoulders wouldn’t move.
“Out of our hands now, Dax. Being at the sharp end can be well risky but at least we don’t have to think ‘big picture’ once the shooting stops. I’ll make my report and then they can kiss my sorry ass, Corporal.”
Dax laughed and began strapping in. He looked at me, suddenly pensive.
“Think what Dorman said is true, about that machine being a new dawn for humanity?”
“A new dawn?” I shook my head, “Naw, Dax, out here its all just one long night.”
Twelve
At the junction to the flight deck I paused and looked back, trying to judge if I had enough time to untie Teal and get out before the mist cut us off. I didn’t know how Dorman had managed to fire up the FTL drive but it meant I couldn’t simply seal us in and wait for the cavalry.
The tendrils were flowing along the corridor walls, undulating like snakes. They looked a bit like the sea worms that had scared me shitless as a rookie on Aqua Fortis, my first tour. For a moment I wondered if Dorman had finally managed to get inside my head, but with all of my past to choose from he could have pulled out something far, far worse.
I figured I would try being a hero and turned towards the flight deck.
The hatch was sealed, deadlocked from inside..
Well, that solved the mystery of how the Sookin Sin was preparing to jump. Dorman was piloting by proxy, using either Teal or Leitz. I didn’t have the time or hardware to force my way in and I didn’t think that knocking politely would have much effect.
Marine, you are leaving.
Back in the lateral access corridor I could see a clear run to the port airlock, well ahead of everything Dorman had chasing me. The ship shuddered.
“Sarge, this is Harrison. The port airlock is a no-go. I repeat, the port airlock is a no-go. The modules are detaching, drifting clear of the spine, and I can’t set up an approach vector in the time remaining. Do you copy?”
“Jesus, Harrison, what do you expect me to do now? Hail a passing taxi and catch you guys back at Andorra Reach?”
“Dorsal airlock, boss. The way we came in. I’ve got a good access and exit route along the spine.”
“You bloody better be there, fly-boy, or you are so on a charge.”
“Roger that.”
I started down the spinal corridor, conscious of how damn long it looked. The access panels on either side were going red as modules detached in pairs, the sequence running fore to aft. Flashing amber warning lights indicated the ship was in pre-jump mode and I’d better get my sorry ass into a gravity seat, pronto.
Hitching a ride into oblivion didn’t hold much appeal and I tried to up the pace, but there are limits to what mag boots can cope with. My suit had detected the extra effort and had upped the oxygen content I was breathing, to the extent I was feeling almost light headed. A small NavyNet icon appeared in my peripheral vision, indicating the Persephone was now in communications range.
“Persephone, Persephone, this is Lazy Gun Two requesting an immediate fire mission. Acknowledge.”
Nothing.
“Persephone, Per-“
“Lazy Gun Two, this is Persephone fire control. State target and mission profile.”
“Broken Arrow, Broken Arrow, Broken Arrow. Cerebus, Cerebus, Cerebus.”
Well, that would get their attention and no mistake. I’d just called in a triple-strike nuclear fire mission on my own location, indicating my unit was lost or about to be overrun. From where I was standing that wasn’t much of a stretch and it was the only way I had to screw Dorman.
“Lazy Gun Two, wait one.”
Grunts like me don’t get to call down the heavy hammer, especially on their own heads, but with the Lieutenant out I was officially mission leader. The comms channel carried voiceprint and biometric ID, along with standard IFF, but I knew how much trouble this would cause.
“Lazy Gun Two, this is Holster. Cooper, what the hell is going on over there?”
As if my day couldn’t get any worse. ‘Holster’ was Major Mann, head Marine honcho aboard the Persephone and a real ball-breaker. He was going to take a lot of convincing, preferably with flip charts.
“Major! I’m declaring a mission emergency and-“
Someone shot me in the back.
Stabbing pain, right shoulder blade down to left hip.
“Warning, suit integrity compromised. Warning, air tank one rupture. Warning, power cell one failure. Warning, power cell three failure. Warning, communications failure.”
I hate that synthesised bitch, I really do.
My suit cut power to the mag boots, aiming to keep the environmental systems going for as long as possible. I stumbled forward and momentum pitched me into a shallow, twisting, dive along the corridor, rifle spinning away.
Teal stood behind me, holding a gun.
Of course he had a gun, dumbo, and you forgot to look for it, even after Dorman told you they’d ambushed the hijackers. There it was, large calibre, gas-powered, silent. Easily stashed in a flight deck locker.
“You really should have taken me at face value, Sergeant, it would have simplified matters no end. Now I have to-“
Single shot, right temple.
Teal’s head jerked back, framed by a fan of blood. His arms splayed wide and the gun drifted from his hand. I kept turning.
Dax hung from the dorsal airlock, upside down from my perspective, rifle in one hand. With the other he reached out and grabbed my forearm, bringing me to a halt. We were both pulled up into the airlock by Grozy, who was holding Dax by the leg.
The inner door closed.
I blinked.
“Sarge! Sarge, wake up!”
I blinked. I was aboard the scout ship, strapped in, no helmet. Dax was talking to me, visors open, a used stim in his hand. I was aware of other marines around me but couldn’t focus.
I coughed. It hurt.
“Casualties?”
“Hughes didn’t make it, boss, and Frazer is looking a bit iffy. Grozy has multiple bullet wounds down his right arm but will be reporting for duty come Friday, so he says. You’re pretty banged up and we’ve immobilised you on general principles. Got that?”
“Yeah, I guess.”
Dax grinned.
“Harrison is currently burning out the engines to put as much distance between us and the Sookin Sin as possible. Flash communication from the Persephone. I don’t know what you did, but it’s happening about-“
Searing light filled the cabin. I closed my eyes against it and the burning afterimage looked like Teal, in profile. We shook, there were shouts, an alarm, instantly silenced, laughter.
“Get some!”
I opened my eyes to see Dax looking out the small viewport, his eyes screwed almost shut against the glare.
“Big nukes, multiple detonations. Lot of distortion though, like from a jump event, or maybe a drive explosion.”
He sat back.
“Think we nailed him, boss?”
I tried to shrug but my shoulders wouldn’t move.
“Out of our hands now, Dax. Being at the sharp end can be well risky but at least we don’t have to think ‘big picture’ once the shooting stops. I’ll make my report and then they can kiss my sorry ass, Corporal.”
Dax laughed and began strapping in. He looked at me, suddenly pensive.
“Think what Dorman said is true, about that machine being a new dawn for humanity?”
“A new dawn?” I shook my head, “Naw, Dax, out here its all just one long night.”
StormFeather
Just passing
*Bach's Air on a G-String plays softly in the background*
Happiness . . . is a new installment by Reiver33
Happiness . . . is a new installment by Reiver33
That was great, reiv! Excellent stuff.
Would serve as a great prologue to an SF novel set a decade or so later, when a new power arises to threaten the Establishment...assuming that the Sookin Sin got away.
Incidentally, I'd italicize the ship's name, as a matter of form. Also, that makes sure that it's not confused as a character.
Would serve as a great prologue to an SF novel set a decade or so later, when a new power arises to threaten the Establishment...assuming that the Sookin Sin got away.
Incidentally, I'd italicize the ship's name, as a matter of form. Also, that makes sure that it's not confused as a character.
Glad you enjoyed it...
Actually this is a prologue, of sorts, to the three as yet unfinished stories I'm grouping together as 'The Bright And Hollow Sky'. The first part on here was 'Out Of The Dark', which ends with the Earth as an irridated husk. When thinking about this I realised I needed real out of left field, unexpected, 'impossible' technology so that the threat itself wasn't contemplated. To come up with such technology you needed a real genius - or one artifically boosted. Hence I started thinking about the orgone accumulator...
It all makes sense, really!
Actually this is a prologue, of sorts, to the three as yet unfinished stories I'm grouping together as 'The Bright And Hollow Sky'. The first part on here was 'Out Of The Dark', which ends with the Earth as an irridated husk. When thinking about this I realised I needed real out of left field, unexpected, 'impossible' technology so that the threat itself wasn't contemplated. To come up with such technology you needed a real genius - or one artifically boosted. Hence I started thinking about the orgone accumulator...
It all makes sense, really!
Evelinn
Well-Known Member
I love the subtle technobabble, and the Sarge, I`d follow him anywhere 
This would make a great movie too.
This would make a great movie too.- Status
Similar threads
-
So, you're spaceship is going to be a long term deep space explorer...
- Started by DAgent
- Replies: 17
-
-
-
-
(Probably found) long lost book:post apocalyptic feel with appearances by knights, midgets and...Elvis
- Started by plebeian
- Replies: 3