Starship Revenant (The Galactic Wars Book 3) (14 page)

T
he lights
in the corridor flickered. Zoe and 8-Ball crept aft toward engineering. The barrels of their RK 909s swept the hallway.

At the far end of the passageway, muzzle flash illuminated the darkness. The thunderous report of gunfire echoed off the bulkheads. Zoey could hear bullets rip past her ear. She slammed her back against the bulkhead and took cover behind a support brace.

8-Ball took cover on the opposite bulkhead.

Bullets zipped down the corridor, sparking and ricocheting off the bulkheads.

Zoey angled her weapon around the support brace and squeezed the trigger. She fired a short burst into the darkness and ducked back behind the brace.

She and 8-Ball took turns blasting at the muzzle flash at the other end of the hallway. The smell of gunfire filled the air. Zoey’s ears were ringing from the deafening echo of the firefight.

Jaxon kept firing back at them.

8-Ball leaned around the support frame and blasted off several more rounds. Before he could lean back for cover, one of Jaxon's bullets ripped through his shoulder. Blood spewed from the wound. The impact twisted 8-Ball around. Two more bullets punctured his back. 8-Ball cried out in agony.

His body smacked against the deck, blood oozing from his wounds.

Zoey’s eyes went wide. The color drained from her face. She screamed out in terror. “8-Ball!”

She arched around the brace and fired down the hallway. Her finger squeezed the trigger, and she let out a primal roar. She didn’t let up until the magazine was empty and the bolt locked out.

She flung her back against the bulkhead taking cover once again. She pressed the mag release and the magazine clattered against the deck. She jammed another one into the mag well and blasted off a few more rounds.

“8-Ball, talk to me,” she screamed.

Eddie groaned.

“Hang in there.”

Eddie needed immediate medical attention, or he was going to bleed out right there on the deck.

The gunfire ceased.

Smoke wafted through the hallway.

Zoey edged her head around the support brace. Muzzle flash lit up again at the other end of the corridor. She snapped her head back out of the way.

Her heart was about to tear through her chest. She needed to get to 8-Ball—and soon.

The commotion had drawn the attention of Mitch and Violet. They came running up a connecting corridor, emerging just behind Zoey’s position.

Mitch saw that 8-Ball was down. Without a moment’s hesitation, he dashed toward 8-Ball.

Gunfire erupted, filling the hallway with bullets.

Zoey blasted back down the corridor, trying to provide cover.

Mitch swooped down and grabbed Eddie by the collar. Bullets snapped past his head. With adrenaline coursing through his veins, he pulled 8-Ball to safety in a connecting corridor. A trail of blood streaked behind him.

Zoey fell back into the corridor after Mitch. She tossed her weapon down and started first aid. With her palms, she applied pressure to Eddie’s largest wounds. Within seconds, her hands were covered in crimson blood.

“Get a med kit,” Zoey yelled. “There’s one on the bulkhead in each section.

Mitch took off down the corridor. Violet stood guard at the corner. The gunfire had ceased, but Jaxon was still out there, somewhere.

Mitch returned a few moments later with the med kit.

Zoey dug into it and grabbed a pair of scissors. She cut away the layers of Eddie’s SK-2. The material was thick, and cutting through multiple layers was time-consuming. Every second counted.

“Just hang in there, Eddie,” Zoey said. “I’m not giving you permission to die yet.”

Once the wounds were exposed, Zoey scrounged for the GS gel in the med kit. It was an expandable biopolymer foam that was extremely useful in plugging gunshot wounds and other punctures. It contained advanced regenerative compounds as well as an analgesic.

She put the nozzle into his wounds and squeezed out the gel. Within moments, it expanded and filled the gaping wounds. It stopped the bleeding. But Eddie had already lost a lot of blood. His pulse was weak.

“We’ve got to get him to the med center,” Zoey said.

Mitch and Zoey hefted Eddie off the ground and carried him to the nearest elevator. It wasn’t the most ideal way to transport a wounded victim, but there was no time to waste. They raced him to the med center and set him atop a gurney.

Zoey wasn’t sure what condition the center was going to be in. The rest of the ship had been so dodgy, there was no telling if anything was going to work in the med center. But the facility had its own backup power supply that would take over in the event of a failure of the ship’s emergency power. Dual redundancy.

She ran a diagnostic imaging scan on 8-Ball. It was a miracle he was still alive. He had major trauma and was going to need extensive surgery. Far beyond basic field care. Eddie had a punctured lung, and a ruptured spleen. His shoulder had been turned to hamburger meat.

He was going to die without the assistance of an experienced surgeon. The robotic assisted med pod would guide the operator through most procedures. But this was way beyond Zoey’s skill level.

Zoey squeezed Eddie’s hand. He lightly squeezed back. Her eyes were brimming. “You’re living up to your name.”

“Always behind the eight ball,” he murmured.

“I’m going to put you into quantum stasis. It’s the only thing I can do.”

“Don’t forget about me in there,” he mumbled.

Zoey wheeled him over to the device. Mitch and Violet helped transfer him to the stasis chamber. It was a large apparatus with a central enclosure. It looked like a magnetic resonance imaging unit. The stasis chamber was a narrow tube.

The device was similar in concept to the slide-space drives. It had its own field generator. But its function was vastly different. Zoey really didn’t know how, exactly, it worked. Something about suspending the subject in a
quantum superposition
. It was like hitting the pause button on life. Once in stasis, Eddie would stay exactly as he was, until removed from stasis. Then time would progress normally for him.

The devices were obscenely expensive. There was usually only one aboard each ship. You’d find them in hospitals, major trauma centers, and sometimes in the homes of the ultra rich.

It was hard to say what the long-term effects were from an extended time and quantum stasis. Alteration in cognitive functioning, mood, and memory loss were all possible side effects. But in a life or death situation, it would buy you some time.

Zoey sealed the pod and activated the device.

It was a long shot, but if they could get the
Revenant
functioning and avoid disintegrating upon entering the planet’s atmosphere, maybe Eddie had a shot. She’d have to find a qualified surgeon and get him aboard the ship somehow.

It seemed like a pipe dream.

“
3
hours remaining
until X2997365 becomes our permanent home,” Violet said.

“You mean, our grave,” Mitch replied.

Violet frowned at him.

“I say we hunt that son-of-a-bitch down and kill him,” Zoey said.

“What’s that really going to accomplish?” Violet said. “We’re all going to be dead in 3 hours anyway.”

“At least I’ll have the satisfaction of pulling the trigger,” Zoey said. “I figured you’d be the first person who’d want to put a bullet in that bastard.”

“I’m trying to disconnect my emotions.”

“Good luck with that.”

“Emotions are clouding my judgment,” Violet said. “I’m going to check the reactors, see if I can find any logical explanation why they are not functioning. Keep looking for the trilontium.”

Violet grabbed her assault rifle. “And believe me, if I see Jaxon. I’ve got a bullet with his name on it.” She smirked and marched out of the med center.

Mitch and Zoey were silent for a moment.

“Sorry about 8-Ball,” Mitch said, solemnly.

“That was pretty brave what you did. I didn’t think you had it in you.”

“Hey, I’m full of surprises.”

The two shared a somber grin. There was another long silence between them.

“I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.”

“How can you think about food at a time like this?”

“I haven’t eaten since breakfast. I get kinda shaky and cranky when I don’t eat. There’s gotta be something in the galley. Some canned food? MREs?”

“You’re going to eat a 25-year-old MRE?”

“If we’re all going to die, I want to die full.” He shrugged. “You gonna join me?”

“I’m going to stay here and keep a watch on 8-Ball.”

“Okay. It’s no biggie. I can go by myself.” He was trying to convince himself as much as he was her. “Do you want me to bring you back anything?”

“No. I’m fine.”

“If you change your mind, just hit me up on the comm link.”

The lighting in the med center stayed solid, but the corridors were still flickering. Mitch poked his head into the hallway and crept out with caution. He kept his rifle ready as he stalked through the passageways.

Zoey locked the hatch behind him.

Across the ship, Violet reached the reactor room. There were four toroidal shaped reactor cores that contained the plasma within a magnetic field. They were Hughes & Kessler
Fusionmax 9X™
, with a
Helieomax®
configuration, containing 75 superconducting magnetic coils, and a neutral beam injector.

Fusion had come a long way in the last 300 years. Smaller, more efficient reactors that consumed less power at startup, with higher output. These reactors only needed a 38.2 megawatt draw to initiate a critical reaction, after which they were self sustaining. Not bad for 25 year old technology. The modern Q-Core reactors were even more efficient.

Violet ran another diagnostic at the command console. Once again, the system checked out fine. She tried to initiate the startup sequence. But there was no response.

She figured the reactors weren’t able to pull the needed power from the reserve cells. Maybe if she could reduce all of the other power drains, the reactors could pull the required megawatts. The only way to reroute power was from the CIC.

Violet activated her comm link. “Zoey, do you copy?”

After a few moments, Zoey’s voice crackled back over the static-filled line. “Any luck?”

“What if we divert all power to reactor startup?”

“I’ve tried shutting down all nonessential functions. It still wasn’t enough.”

“I mean, shut down essential functions as well. Life support. Gravity generation. Emergency lighting.”

“And what if the atmosphere processors don’t come back online?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Violet said. “We’ll hit the planet surface before we run out of oxygen.”

“Good point.”

“I’m going to head back to the CIC. Meet me there and we’ll attempt a system reroute.”

“Roger that. Any sign of Jaxon?”

“Knock on wood, no,” Violet said.

“Get back here safely.”

“Affirmative.”

Violet was about to start back when she heard something clatter in the darkness. It sent a shiver down her spine. She grabbed her weapon and spun around toward the direction of the sound. She looked down the barrel of her rifle, scanning the darkness.

“Mitch? Is that you?”

There was no response.

She crept toward the sound. It was emanating from behind some vertical piping near the port bulkhead of the compartment. Her heart thumped as she drew near. It almost launched out of her chest when something jumped out at her from the shadows.

Max screeched and scampered across the deck.

Violet breathed a sigh of relief.

She slung her weapon and knelt down to pick up the cat. “What are you doing down here? I’ve been looking for you. You know it’s not nice to scare people like that?”

Max meowed and gazed at her with his big green eyes.

She carried Max out of the reactor room and into the corridor.

In the med center, Zoey pulled up the video feed from the reactor room. It was distorted and full of static. The image flickered on and off. She saw Violet exit the compartment and step into the hallway. She switched the video feed to follow her.

Jaxon stepped out of the shadows behind Violet.

Zoey screamed at the display.

It distorted and turned to static. Then the video dropped out completely.

Zoey shrieked into the comm line, trying to warn Violet.

T
housands of Saarkturians
gathered far and wide. They lined the streets outside the royal palace. Every screen throughout the empire displayed the event. Prince Valinok’s coronation was mandatory viewing, under penalty of death—though it wasn’t actively enforced.

All traffic was stopped. No other events were allowed to coincide with the ceremony. Everyone who was anyone personally attended. Members of the senate, celebrities, star athletes. There were festivities leading up to the coronation, and parties planned afterward. And there were a slew of murders.

Davvel scurried through the streets of downtown Fonesia, clinging to a briefcase. He wore sunglasses to throw off the facial recognition trackers. You couldn’t go anywhere in Saarkturia without being identified and tracked. And since Davvel was on the list, it was in his best interest to remain anonymous.

Most facial recognition software tracks several distinct markers. The distance between the eyes, the width of the nose, length of the jaw, etc. You can paint geometric shapes on your face to throw off the trackers, but it looks rather obvious in public. The glasses Davvel wore had special beam projectors in the frame that put out a spectrum of light that was invisible to the naked eye, but was disruptive to the trackers.

So far, he hadn’t been detected. But that didn’t make him any less nervous. He kept glancing over his shoulder to see if he was being followed. He could hear his heart thumping in his chest, and his body was covered with a thin mist of sweat.

Nobody paid him much attention. Everyone was preoccupied with the coronation.

He dashed from the busy sidewalk into the lobby of the Erlineer building. It was a towering skyscraper—one of the tallest in all of Saarkturia. He nodded to the security guard at the front desk and strolled to the main elevators.

“Not working on a holiday, are you? I’d hate to have to report you,” the guard said with a chuckle.

Davvel smiled. “No work. Left something in the office.”

“You’re secret is safe with me, Mr. Calzzer.” said the guard, calling after him.

Davvel didn’t know who the hell Calzzer was. But he was thankful the guard had mistaken him. Thousands of stodgy Saarkturains in suits worked in the Erlineer building. Accountants, financial planners, attorneys. They all looked the same.

The building was mostly empty. The coronation was a national holiday. Davvel pressed the button, and the elevator rushed him up to the 57th floor. He stepped off the elevator and headed down the hall to the law offices of Zulaart & Associates. The name was etched into the glass double doors.

Davvel swiped his keycard and stepped into the lobby. He moved through the prestigious law firm to Mr. Zulaart’s office. It was spacious and well appointed. Floor to ceiling panoramic windows gave an unobstructed view to the royal palace.

Zulaart was dead. In what would later become known as the Night of the Crystal Saber, Rylon had orchestrated the deaths of several key senators, military leaders, and prominent opponents. Anyone who had voiced opposition, or even modest concern, over Prince Valinok’s ascension to the throne was brutally murdered.

Zulaart had been preparing the legal filings to stop the coronation. Saarkturian law prohibited a minor from assuming the throne. An elected steward, accountable to the senate, was to rule until the Prince reached the age of majority. There were many who were concerned about the Prince’s ability to effectively lead Saarkturia. And the Decluvian alliance had ruffled many feathers in the senate. After the Night of the Crystal Saber, Rylon had little opposition. And those who harbored doubts, kept it to themselves.

Davvel had eluded the Crystal Saber. But he was on Rylon’s list. He wouldn’t live for long. But he still had one act of defiance left in him.

Davvel set his briefcase on the desk and unlatched it. He pulled out a device and attached it to the window. It had a central suction cup and robotic laser arm. It cut out a perfect circle in the thick glass. Davvel removed the disc-shaped piece of glass and set it aside.

Davvel took components from the briefcase and assembled them. Before long, he had a sleek Suvex MSR .300 sniper rifle. It had an
Absolute Black™
coating that absorbed 99.973 percent of visible light, giving it an eerie void-like appearance. It fired polymer cased sub-sonic smart rounds. The loudest sound that would emanate from the weapon was the trigger—and that was a barely audible
click
. Once the target was acquired in the sights, it was almost impossible to miss. The guided smart bullets had lethal accuracy up to 2000 meters.

Davvel poked the barrel through the hole in the window. 500 yards away was the palace balcony. After the coronation, the new King would step out and address his people. It would be the perfect opportunity for Davvel to cut short Valinok’s reign.