Death Drop (12 page)

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Authors: Sean Allen

Tags: #Fiction, #Fantasy, #General, #Science Fiction/Fantasy

BOOK: Death Drop
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“No time for happy reunions!” Abalias’ voice cut him off from a frosty mouth. “I’m sure we’re all running low on ammo and we can’t get out of here, so here’s the plan


“There’s another ship!” Otto interrupted with desperation in his voice. “It’s on the north ridge. I was having it loaded with some—er—special—cargo for a mission that Malo and I were going on in pursuit of this rogue Mewlatai. I doubt the Berzerkers know anything about it.” Otto spoke quickly and ducked intermittently as bullets rapped against Bertie and bounced off of Graale and Abalias.

“But we’re trapped!” Blink interjected almost hysterically. “The Berzerkers have the eastern and western exits sealed off. We’ll never get out alive!” His voice trailed off as he tried to restrain the terror growing in the pit of his stomach.

“Mine has vent. Bring good air outside to miners.” Malo pointed to the northeast wall where the behemoth Berzerker’s wayward cannon shell had struck the bore from the main chamber up to the north ridge. The opening was no longer the size of an air vent; it was now large enough for even Malo to step through.

“Then that settles it, we all make for the north ridge through the vent shaft!” Dr. Blink was yelping with hope that bordered on fanaticism and a desperate smile hung from his lips, exposing his two large front teeth.

“How many rounds does The Guardian have left, Sarge?” The icy mouth on Abalias’ hood formed perfect words, but Otto was having a hard time believing the awesome creature was the colonel. Only his gleaming blue eyes convinced him that his superior officer was beneath the thick, cryospheric shroud.

“Lucky thirteen. Four barrels full and a kicker to end things with a bang!” Graale’s lip curled in a wicked grin.

“Use ‘em to keep that monster from blasting us to hell,” Abalias ordered, “and everyone else make for the vent on three. One. Two. Three!”

The Dissenters moved at a quick clip, running parallel to the northern wall toward the gaping hole. Bertie was out front, his table still elevated above his treads and held lengthwise to provide maximum coverage for the team between him and the outer barrier. Dr. Blink was once again crouched low in the channel between Bertie’s treads, but Otto had found a much more effective position. Bertie had offered him a step hovering above his rotating track, and the platform gave the major a perfect vantage point for aiming over the table and picking off unwary Berzerkers. Graale and Abalias were striding in the open between Bertie and the enemy. Abalias was dropping any who dared break from behind the mangled hull the Berzerkers were now using as cover, and Graale kept the big monster at bay by unleashing a shell from
The Guardian
every time it tried to aim its cannons at Bertie.

“Everyone into the vent!” Abalias barked and Malo ducked in first followed by Bertie with Otto and Blink aboard. Colonel Abalias was next and Graale simply backed into the entrance, covering the others from small arms fire and deterring a cannon attack with his own big gun.

“Colonel, what’s the plan?” Graale asked anxiously as the Berzerkers howled at the possibility that their quarry may soon be escaping.

“Bertie, Otto, Blink, and Malo up the vent shaft to the ship. Sarge and I are going to get taken prisoner.”

The colonel’s orders were met, once again, with unbelieving stares and a silence that emphasized the crypt-like features of their current surroundings.

“Damn,” Graale grumbled. “Sorry I asked!”

Otto and the others continued to look at Abalias in absolute disbelief as he exposed everything from his shoulders up to reveal a stern face. “Major, I need you and Malo to pursue this Mewlatai situation from the runner end. You know at least something about how their operation works. Set up a run and make it a heavy load—they’ll think it’s armaments from the Dissension. That ought to draw our traitor out. Get in touch with an Admiral Rilek. He’s a Dissension soldier playing at being a runner and he’s damn good at it from what I hear. He runs an outfit called
Company 327
. I don’t know how to set up a run—you’ll have to find a ringer and play it by ear.”

“I know of one,” Otto said. “Name’s Fellini. Leo Fellini, I think.”

“Good. Find this Mewlatai traitor and get to the bottom of this!”

“But what about you?”

“Listen. This Mewlatai shows up and kills our guys and then moments later Berzerkers are blowing down our front door—it’s the other end of the thread and I intend to follow it and end up meeting you and Malo in the middle!
Our entire operation, the war against the Durax—
everything

depends on this. Do you understand?” The colonel looked from Otto to Malo with a dire expression.

Otto nodded solemnly at his friend and Colonel Abalias pulled his lips taut across his face and gave a curt nod of understanding. He turned to Malo with the same expectation in his eyes, but the Moxen wasn’t there. A sharp pain had flashed into Malo’s head once again, but this time it was different. The pain didn’t last as long as the previous episode in the infirmary, and it didn’t cause him to stagger; it did something far more dangerous. Malo’s consciousness left him. The sounds of gunfire and screeches from the battle raging outside of the cave melted into nothingness, and Abalias’ words seeped into his head and were lost in a dark corner of his mind.

 

Chapter 13:
Sounds of Doom

 

T
he sickly puppet in Blangaris’ crushing grip choked and sputtered with elation, and he stayed his powerful paw from crushing the life out of Slaag’s body.

“Hahahaha!” Helekoth laughed through the wheezing instrument of Slaag’s airway. “It is working,” he choked. “The amplifier virus is working—I can hear the Dissenters talking about their futile plans!” Slaag’s body continued to spasm in ecstasy as Blangaris held it easily against the port side wall of the freighter. But his rage was beginning to subside as curiosity teased the corners of his mind.

“What do they say?” he asked, the anger ebbing from his voice. “Anything about the Serum and its maker?”

The milky eyes of Slaag’s shell continued to swirl in a cloudy nebulous as Helekoth paused to receive the transmission.

“The Dissenters are trying to escape through a narrow vent shaft. It seems unlikely that they’ll succeed. General Killikbar has them cornered.”

“That beast and his dark magic deserve to be destroyed just as much as you!” growled Blangaris.

“I know Killikbar has similar feelings toward you, my dear Mewlatai. Perhaps you two will get to prove who the mightier warrior is one day. But for now, Killikbar serves my will without question, and he has his orders.” Slaag’s body stiffened as voices from far away echoed in Helekoth’s mind and spilled their dark secrets. “There is a runner called
The Ghost
and he’s never been beaten in over two hundred runs.”

Blangaris’ grip around Slaag’s throat loosened slightly as he leaned closer to hear more.

“This runner captains a black Zebulon star freighter and they think that
you
are him! They are setting up a run with a ringer...” Helekoth paused momentarily to filter through the information that was streaming into his mind. “The ringer’s name is Fellini, Leo Fellini, and the Dissension believes they will draw this
Ghost
out by placing an order for heavy armaments. They’ll place the order and follow the run through a Dissension soldier posing as a runner—an Admiral Rilek. This Rilek owns a fleet of runner ships called Company 327. Hahahaha!” Helekoth laughed a wicked, wheezing cackle as Blangaris loosened his grasp, and Slaag’s body slid down the port side wall and slumped on the deck. “The fools
are
chasing a ghost and now I can track their every move. It won’t be long until the disease mutates and I’ll not only be able to hear the thoughts of the large Dissenter, but I’ll be able to control his body as well! And then there will be only one mutation left until the amplifier is truly ready! I must send word to our scientist friend on Aktuug to begin preparing the next phase. It must mutate and spread from one infected body to another.”

“And what if your experiment fails? What if your disease doesn’t spread like you’re hoping?”

“There is a being—forgotten through the ages and more powerful than any you have encountered, dear Mewlatai. It’s unaware of its power—a power that’s been dormant through the ages and resting in a chrysalis that shields the potential that grows inside of it each passing second. This being’s unique evolution will ensure the propagation of the infection. As we speak, my master spy is ensuring that all things of this matter will soon be in order. Once the amplifier is contagious,
nothing
will be able to stand against me. Not the Dissension. Not their precious
Serum
. Not even the Mewlatai!”

Helekoth choked, laughed and howled viciously in his iniquitous, chorused voice. Slaag’s dead, white eyes continued to stare blankly through Blangaris as his mouth opened and closed unnaturally to allow the mocking jeers and taunts to spill out.

Blangaris’ fiery eyes narrowed as he stood over the gangly mass of Slaag’s body, now wailing with laughter on the floor in front of him. But his eyes did not narrow in anger. Blangaris had a revelation of his own.

“They are right,” he said coolly and the laughter pouring from the heap of diseased flesh stopped abruptly. Blangaris saw the grin on the Durax’s face narrow. He was pleased that he had ruined Helekoth’s ego trip and his lip curled above his pristine, white teeth in satisfaction. “This
Ghost
is Mewlatai. No other creature in the universe could have piloted a Zebulon star freighter to so many consecutive victories without being tracked or destroyed. This
Ghost
is either the Mewlatai I’m looking for or he’ll lead me to him. Either way, he will die a horrible death at the edge of my Kaiten.” A low rumble grew in the pit of Blangaris’ stomach and clawed its way past his chest and escaped from between clenched teeth.

Slaag’s body sat motionless on the floor for a few moments as the invader within considered Blangaris’ words. The only indication that Helekoth still controlled the lifeless shell on the deck was the clouds that still swirled in Slaag’s eyes.

“Then you will follow the run and this
Ghost
and you shall have your revenge, my dear Mewlatai.”

“And what of the Dissenters that are trying to escape? If your dog of war destroys them, they won’t be able to set their plan in motion and you’ll never know if your precious weapon truly works.”

“Using the amplifier to toy with the Dissension is for my amusement. You have dealt them their deathblow by poisoning their confidence in the Serum. As I said, the weapon is meant for a creature long forgotten and the fate of the Dissenters makes no difference. Killikbar is a killer. He knows my will and has his orders. If the Dissenters are skilled enough or fortunate enough to escape Killikbar and his army, then they’ll organize the run. If they are destroyed, you have all of the information necessary to set up the run and draw out your enemy. We have no more reason to speak to one another. You have your mission. Exact your revenge. Kill your brother and destroy the Serum.”

“I will kill Tyrobus Daelekon,” Blangaris snarled, “but I have no brother!”

“Very well. If you are successful, I expect you will find me?”

“I swear it.”

“Then, my Mewlatai friend, I will be…
waiting
.”

Slaag’s body shook wildly on the floor as the mist faded from his eyes and cold black spheres rested in his sockets once more. His bony fingers clutched frantically at his throat as he choked for air. Black blood bubbled from his mouth onto his chin and seeped from his eyes. In his last desperate moments, Slaag clawed at his throat with one hand as he tried to unblock his airway, and he reached the other out toward Blangaris in a plea for help.

Blangaris watched without pity as Slaag’s king punished him for betraying
The Order,
and the Durax soldier gave his final breath in a wet, rasping click.

 

Chapter 14: Ascent

 

“L
ieutenant Schunkari? Are you listening to me?”

Malo blinked his eyes rapidly and his senses returned to him in a rush of sound and smells that threatened to overwhelm him.

“Malo, I need you to track that Mewlatai with the major and figure this thing out. Are you hearing me?”

Malo wanted nothing more than to face the Mewlatai in battle again and kill him in honor of Talfus, and the thought of doing so flooded his mind and washed away any memory of his oblivious episode. He gave a determined grunt to the colonel as an undeniable fire of revenge burned in his enormous, brown eyes.

“Don’t let me down.”

Otto crinkled his nose with deep regret and Malo furrowed his brow at their imminent parting from Abalias and Graale. Blink was standing there, mesmerized again, and Abalias wondered if the strain of combat had finally taken its toll on him and he had cracked. His eyes were staring numbly at the colonel and Otto, and he had an awestruck look on his face. His head was tilted to one side as if his ears were struggling to silence the ringing from the auditory assault they had endured while navigating through the war-torn shipyard.

“You sure this is what you want?” asked Graale. “I could kill ‘em all and we could all get out of here.”

Abalias peered over his shoulder at the back of Graale’s formidable silhouette with a bemused look and thought for an instant that he might actually be sincere instead of trying to lighten the mood.

“We need to get to the bottom of this at any cost. Even if we all die in order to do it. Do you understand?” he said, casting a steadfast gaze from Otto to Malo and making certain he spoke loud enough for Graale to hear him. Otto and Malo both answered his unyielding blue eyes with a solemn nod.

“We have another problem,” Blink squeaked, then pointed to the tunnel behind them. Bertie had fished through his jumbled compartments and replaced one of his hands with the lighted attachment. He shined its beam down the bore to accentuate Dr. Blink’s argument. The tunnel ran relatively flat for a several yards from where the blast had widened the opening, then it narrowed considerably into a perfectly round six-foot diameter tube that bent abruptly upward and ascended to the north ridge at a near vertical angle.

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