Broken Horizon Page 8

Switch didn’t make any connections about the blood oozing out of Knave’s nose. She had no idea about the imp infestation.

  “It was so unfortunate, I really wanted to see Aisu IV. What could be there? Oh well. There was supposed to be light pirate activity and we ran into a shit-ton of them. We lost too many people. Too much effing bloodshed for nothing.” Knave sighed.

  Dome 4, Chryse Planitia

  Mars

  Orion Confederation Space

  Riko Maeda stared at the broken Kitsune. They had dragged the fighter into this shack several weeks ago and still had gotten nowhere. It was missing too many parts to be able to function.

  A wounded bird that would never fly again.

  Stray pieces of the fighter were dimly illuminated by candle light.

  Zebediah entered the makeshift hangar. “Hi,” he said softly.

  “Hi,” Riko replied.

  “Staring at it won’t fix it.”

  “It’s the best idea I have.”

  “Alright, just saying hi. I’ll be talking with the other members of the council for a while. Be careful.”

  “I can handle myself, Zebediah. I hope the meeting goes well.”

  “I doubt it will. Things are getting worse out here. I’ll see you later.”

  “Bye.”

  He exited the shack.

  Riko kept staring at the disabled fighter.

  After staring for an inordinate amount of time, she decided to leave the shack.

  It was night. When did that happen? Truthfully, she had lost her sense of time. She had no idea what month, day, or hour it was. Counting the days would probably just be depressing. She made her way back to the shack she lived in. There was an occasional barrel with flaming debris providing heat and a bit of light. She looked up into the sky, through the dome. Phobos, a moon of Mars, glowed in the Martian sky. Deimos, the smaller moon, also slowly crossed the sky. As she was looking at the moons, someone grabbed her and put their grimy hands over her mouth.

  The man dragged her behind one of the shacks and threw her onto the dirt.

  Another man was waiting behind the shack. This taller man was holding a broken pipe. She recognized these men as prisoners under the dome, but she didn’t know either of them well.

  “Kill her and we may get pardoned,” said one man.

  “I’m so hungry! Algol better give us more food!”

  Riko struggled to stand.

  “We will! I don’t want to become like the cannibals of Dome 2,” said one of the men.

  “That’s just a rumor!”

  “Well, still, I don’t want to be someone’s meal,” replied the man.

  The shorter man struck her across the face. She fell back onto the soil.

  The tall man with the pipe scolded the other. “Hey! Be careful. No sense killing her, yet. She could provide hours of entertainment first. Grab her, we’re taking her to my place.”

  The short man bent down to grab her. Riko kicked the man in the groin. The man let out a yelp. She quickly rolled out of the way and hopped to her feet.

  The injured man was dazed, with both of his hands between his legs.

  The tall man swung at her with the pipe. She dodged the blow and grabbed his arm. The other man yelled out a string of expletives.

  Riko jumped and kicked off of the tall man and pulled the arm she was grabbing the same direction she rebounded. An audible crack announced that she had dislocated the man’s shoulder.

  He yelled in pain and dropped the pipe. He tried to put his arm back into its socket.

  Riko landed on the ground in front of the short man. The man was about to grab her, but she swept her leg under the approaching short man, causing him to fall backwards onto the dirt.

  “You whore...” said the man with the dislocated shoulder. He approached Riko, while still holding his injured arm. Riko swiftly kicked him in his unprotected groin, causing him to collapse onto the ground. She then slammed her foot into the short man’s groin again for good measure.

  The man spewed forth another string of expletives.

  She was furious. Were these men going to kill her?

  Before she could do any more damage, a familiar voice called out.

  “Stop!” Zebediah yelled. “What the hell is going on here?”

  “They attacked me,” Riko stated.

  Both men groaned in pain.

  “I can’t believe this,” Zebediah said.

  “Please, boss. Sorry, we just think—”

  “Shut up!” Zebediah said. “I don’t care what you think! You are both going to the pit until I say you can leave!”

  The pit. A four meter hole that was dug to be used as a prison. A prison in a prison.

  Zebediah looked back toward Riko. “Are you okay?”

  She stared back at the sky. “I’m fine.”

  January 23, 0271 AC – 12:45

  Lounge, Madcat-2

  Silver Cove, Neutral Space

  “Here’s the new contract.” Teresa Day slid the personal computer across the table of the Madcat-2’s lounge.

  Knave Gunner eyed the contract on the computer. “Confederate space again...”

  “Of course,” Teresa said.

  “Rebels, this time, though. That’s refreshing.”

  “That’s the life. Working with Feds one day, rebels the next. So, who do you think is in the right in this conflict?”

  “I don’t know. The rebellion is blaming the Confederation for a lot of things. They think fighting against their government will bring about change. Nothing ever changes. The new government will be just as corrupt as the last one. Everywhere sucks. Living conditions aren’t any better anywhere else. Why do they think they can do any better?”

  “Just because it’s hard, doesn’t mean it’s not worth trying. In the end, they may fail and fall, but it’s better than not trying at all,” Teresa said.

  “Strangely poetic, Reese,” Knave said. “This contract seems... a little dangerous, honestly.”

  “Nothing to worry about, we’ve been through worse.”

  “So we head out to Sol and blast a Confederate transport out of the sky. The transport is delivering weapons and other supplies to the army on Zeta Volantis III. Geez, they’re still fighting over that dump? Alright.”

  “Any questions?”

  Knave mulled it over. “Why is this transport out in standard space?”

  “Scheduled pit stop for fuel at the Citadel. Far as I can tell, it’s just a space station orbiting Mars. There’s nothing special about it, but it does have fuel reserves. They are using that station instead of any military bases to try to avoid any confrontations. Extremely light defenses. We’ll be in and out.”

  Knave cracked his knuckles. “When we heading out?”

  February 3, 0271 AC – 15:35

  Bridge, Madcat-2

  Near Mars, Sol System, Confederate Space

  “They have a defense network,” Russell Jackman said. “More fighter craft than expected. Just some random unimportant space station, what are they guarding?”

  Teresa Day sighed. “That changes nothing. We’re destroying the transport. It should be coming out of the jumpgate soon.”

  “Near the station with the ass-load of defenses,” Knave Gunner said. “Great idea.”

  “In and out,” Rylan Ter said calmly.

  “Have they detected us yet?” Teresa asked.

  Edwin White replied, “I don’t think so. We’re still just drifting and all major systems are still offline. We look like a piece of junk out here.”

  “How fast can we get to that jumpgate without them noticing?”Knave asked.

  Russell tapped on his panel. “Ten—fifteen seconds.”

  “That’s quick enough,” Teresa said. “Keep your eyes open.”

  The jumpgate began to separate into three different parts. The apparatus began to spin. Space boiled between the jumpgate trinity.

  “Punch it!” Teresa ordered.

  Madcat-2 powered back on. The corvette acc
elerated toward the space station.

  “Shit,” Knave cursed. “They’re on their way. I’m detecting fighters. Something is off, though.”

  “What do you mean?” Teresa asked.

  “They mobilized extremely fast,” Knave pointed out. “It’s as if they were already prepared for this attack.”

  “Give me full burn! Spin the drive, Jackman!” Teresa leaned back in her command chair and smirked. “It’s a hit and run. Get that trigger finger ready, White.”

  The military transport exited the jumpgate. A mix of Ravens, Peregrines, and Kitsune fighters barreled past the transport toward the approaching corvette.

  “Detecting twenty enemy fighters,” Knave announced. “Jesus Christ.”

  Rylan sighed. “I won’t be able to shake this many.”

  “I got a message from the station,” Knave reported. “‘All intruders in Orbital Guard controlled space are considered hostile and will be eliminated. Turn back now or be destroyed.’”

  Teresa looked back toward Knave with a puzzled look on her face. “What? Orbital Who?”

  Knave shrugged as he tapped on his console. “Don’t ask me, I’m just the messenger. Actually... I think...”

  The fighters darted harmlessly past the corvette as it continued its approach to the transport. Madcat-2 flew over the military transport and unloaded its weaponry onto the ship. Mass driver slugs tore through the transport.

  Space warped and bended in front of the corvette as it performed a speed-jump into hyperspace.

  The broken remains of the transport fell toward the red planet below.

  “What? Why didn’t they attack us?” Edwin asked.

  Knave smiled. “I figured it out. These Orbital Guards fighters are nothing but a drone force. They don’t have any actual fighter pilots. I flooded the typical broadcast frequencies with garbage data. Those fighters couldn’t receive any new commands and flew harmlessly over us.”

  Edwin looked toward Teresa. “What were they doing there?”

  Teresa shrugged. “I don’t know. It seems they want to scare away any potential hostiles, but at the same time, not spend any additional salaries on any actual fighter pilots. They’re protecting something that’s important, though.”

  “Is there anything of note on Mars?” Edwin asked.

  “No,” Russell replied. “Just some tiny colonies from all I could tell. There’s nothing of worth down there on Mars.”

  The Citadel

  Orbit of Mars, Sol System

  Orion Confederation Space

  Warden Ross Algol walked down the long corridor to the hangar bay for the drone fighter force of the Orbital Guard. These fighters were drone craft, remotely controlled by three pilots inside the space station. The drone force was adequate for patrolling Mars and dealing with pirates, but not quite good enough to handle any attacks from formidable opponents.

  Such as the mercenaries that destroyed the Confederate military transport several weeks ago.

  That blunder annoyed Algol. Not because he had any love for the Confederates, but because it revealed their defense system. The station’s sponsors weren’t too pleased about that situation. The drone force kept the costs down and allowed Starfire Systems, the company that Algol worked for, to rake even more profits from the governments sending their prisoners to them. The station was running with the bare minimum of staff.

  The Confederate transport also rained weapons down on the prisoners below. Weapons they may use. Although Algol didn’t care about the prisoners, the station was under contract to be a prison, not a graveyard.

  Algol walked up to an unmarked, black corvette that had delivered an important man to his station. Galactic Union Vice President Rhett Trachis had just arrived.

  The Vice President stepped down the ramp onto the station floor. He accepted Algol’s hand in a firm handshake.

  Trachis had broad shoulders and a handsome clean-shaven face. Algol knew that Trachis was at least in his fifties, but he looked good for his age. Trachis wore a sharp navy blue suit with a striped black and white tie.

  “Mr. Algol.”

  “Mr. Vice President.”

  Trachis smiled. “Thanks for meeting with me. I expect your crew will not reveal the fact I was here?”

  “Of course not,” Algol insisted. “Their lips are sealed.”

  “Good. I wanted to see the work you’re doing in person. Things are moving quickly and we must be prepared. I own a great deal of stock in Starfire Systems, I want to make sure our money is being well spent.”

  Algol and Trachis began walking out of the hangar toward the long corridor that ran into the main station.

  Algol smiled. “Of course. You do realize the vast majority of our funds go into our research departments. We use the drone fighters to keep costs down. It was unfortunate that the Confederate ship was destroyed, but there’s not much we can do to prevent that without spending a bloody lot of money. This was one incident. We shouldn’t expect an attack like that again.”

  Algol and Trachis walked up to a lift. The words “Unauthorized Access Prohibited” were painted over the doors of the lift. Algol placed his hand on a panel and the doors to the lift swished open. They entered the lift.

  Trachis shrugged. “Perhaps. As long as you our using our funds correctly, though, we will not have an issue. If I find your results lacking... well, I’m not quite sure what will be done.”

  “I understand, sir.”

  “There were rumors that the prisoners actually got their hands on Confederate weaponry. Have they been dealt with?”

  “We’re not in the business of killing our prisoners.”

  “Until they start killing themselves.”

  Algol nodded. “Yes. Then we intervene to prevent further loss of life.”

  “By killing those that are using the weapons.”

  “Well, yes, but saying it the way I said it sounds better. The people paying us would rather hear that than ‘They accidentally got weapons because we screwed up, so we killed them.’”

  Trachis laughed. “Yes, I suppose so.”

  The door of the lift opened. The hall outside the door was extremely well-lit with silver walls. Windows into other rooms were lined along these walls. The pair walked down the hall, occasionally glancing into the windows.

  “More prisoners,” Trachis said.

  “These are the guinea pigs that our supporters don’t know about. We tell them that these prisoners die from natural causes or gang violence down on Mars.”

  They walked up to one of the windows on the left side of the hall and peered inside. A huge, muscular man rocked silently in a straightjacket.

  Algol smiled. “He’s called Mr. Cetus. He’s the only prisoner to take the enhancements so well.”

  “Did the rest die?” Trachis asked.

  Algol laughed. “Kind of. Follow me, sir.”

  They walked up to a window on the right side that spanned a large portion of the wall. It looked down upon an expansive, dim room with hundreds of lumbering men. The men stared straight ahead with dead eyes. The floor was covered with blood and feces.

  “What the hell?” Trachis said.

  “It’s a funny term, no doubt, but we call these our zombies,” Algol said.

  “Zombies?”

  “I think there is some merit in keeping them alive, if you can call it that, instead of throwing them out an airlock. They try to devour anything they come in contact with, except each other. Can you imagine dropping some of these into a crowded city? They are worth something.”

  “Potentially it’s an effective weapon for the psychological aspect alone.” Trachis tapped on the glass to try to startle the creatures. “Still, not exactly what we were looking for...”

  “I’ll let you meet Mr. Cetus,” Algol said. “We have perfected the technique. There will be many more of him. He’s a tank.”

  “We may have use for such a specimen.”

  “Excellent. There’s one last thing, sir.”

  �
�Yes?”

  “I suppose I should tell you. There’s a woman on the planet.”

  “How did that happen?”

  “We assumed she’d be raped to death by now when she crash landed down there, but she managed to survive. If someone comes looking for her, there could be problems.”

  “What’sthe issue? Kill her yourself.”

  4

  December 3, 0270 AC – 19:02 Local Time

  First Church of God Chapel, USS Empyrean

  Edge of Galactic Union Space

  “I can’t believe you talked me into coming.”

  Jacob put his arm around Sharon. “I can’t believe you came. I need your support to get through this torture.”

  Trevor walked up to the pew that Sharon and Jacob had claimed. “I heard that.”

  “Sorry, bud.” Jacob gestured to an open area on the pew next to him. “Have a seat.”

  Trevor nodded and sat down. “Thanks for coming.”

  Sharon and Jacob dressed casually for the Wednesday night church service, but Trevor was wearing a nice suit and tie.

  “I didn’t even know you had nice clothes,” Sharon said.

  “Dressing to impress?” Jacob asked.

  “Something like that.” Trevor smiled nervously.

  “This girl must be something special.” Sharon reclined back in the pew. “You must have some good reasons to go through all of this trouble.”

  A tall brunette walked into the chapel. She was wearing a dark red blouse. Her hair was tied into a bun. The beautiful woman wore glasses, probably a fashion choice, most optical issues were easily cured these days. From what Trevor had told Jacob, this was most likely Ryn.

  Jacob also couldn’t help but notice her large breasts.

  Jacob snickered. “Yeah, Trevor. I see a couple good reasons.”

  Trevor rolled his eyes.

  Sharon jabbed Jacob in the side with her elbow.

  Ryn walked up to the three in the pew. She grinned. “Hi Trevor. And Sharon and Jacob! Oh my! It’s so amazing to finally meet you!”