The Orphaned Worlds (47 page)

This was where Malachi took the tactical lead, not least because he knew the base’s layout from years of assignments and stopovers. From the waiting area, a wide corridor sloped up to a high hall decorated in a heroic fashion similar to the dockside: commandery shields and banners, austere statues in wall niches, and lamps positioned for effect. It was quiet, deserted, and the two groups went their separate ways, helm visors sealed, boots clicking on polished tiles.

Taking the security office was a textbook example of overwhelm-and-subdue. With a fibreye slipped under the door they scoped the number and disposition of the duty personnel – a man and a woman, both seated at consoles – before bursting in. Going high and low, Malachi and Klein tranked both the operators immediately then Jones hurried to the main command console, checking the activity logs. Then he turned to Malachi, his visor translucent.

‘We’ve a problem – our guy here was in mid-dialogue with someone up in Holding. Whoever it was quickly cut the line then put another call through to the garrison quarters but got no reply.’

‘It sounds as if Captain Gideon has succeeded, yes?’ said Theo. Malachi nodded but his frown was dark. ‘Is there an updated presence log? Where is Horne and who’s with him?’

Jones crouched over the holodisplay, fingering symbols, sorting and flicking data images to and fro with agile speed.

‘Presence log … updated seventy-six minutes ago; then, Horne was up in Holding Cell Omega with five Grey Sentinel guards. Omega is where they’re keeping our people …’

‘Sergeant,’ said Klein from the doorway. ‘Captain’s here.’ Gideon entered the now-cramped monitoring room, looked at the unconscious guards over in the corner, then nodded.

‘Good. Have we control of the base’s comms?’ ‘Seems so, sir,’ Malachi said, then gave a summary report on the calls from Holding and who was up there.

‘Good,’ Gideon said. ‘Hartmann and Boyd are heading up to level two to keep the techs out of the way. In the meantime, Jones will stay here to man the screens and comms while the rest of us head up to secure access to Holding Cell Omega. Short-range channel for now …’

‘Sir,’ said Jones from his console. ‘There is a call from Holding asking for you by name.’

Gideon was silent a moment. ‘Is it Captain Horne?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Put it up on the display.’

The holodisplay winked on, autoadjusted to larger dimensions and abruptly became a live feed. Theo stared as the frame pulled back to show a wall with a receding row of upright metal canisters, each containing a man, strapped and restrained, wires and tubes trailing from head and neck. The viewpoint panned to show a second row, back to back with a third, then a fourth and a fifth, while along the back wall were yet more prisoners. These had to be Gideon’s men, Theo knew. The sight sent a chill down his neck.

Then the cam came to rest on a burly, bearded man clad in black body armour and, strangely, a black, calf-length cloak. Two Grey Sentinels stood behind him, both in full SLAM armour, helmed and armed with short-bodied autoweapons.

‘Gideon, such an unexpected pleasure. You should have let me know – I would have had a banquet prepared.’

Gideon’s features were impassive.

‘Horne, no time for pleasantries. Just release my men and I’ll take them and withdraw without any need for unpleasantness.’

Nathaniel Horne smiled. ‘But that would lack manners, Gideon, to depart your host’s residence with such indecent haste.’ The cam tracked back as he stepped forward, and a metal trolley came into view, its shiny trays full of gleaming surgical instruments, some red with blood. ‘But you’re right, Gideon, there’s no time for pleasantries so let us move on to the meat of it, shall we?’

Horne took a handgun from his waist and strode over to the nearest imprisoned Stormlion. Unsteadily, the cam followed him, clearly being carried by an operator. Horne raised his weapon and pressed the muzzle against the prisoner’s forehead. The captive soldier stared at the gun, eyes unwavering, tongue wetting his lips. Theo suddenly felt for Gideon, knowing what was coming.

‘Nathaniel, I’m warning you …’

A sudden fury tore across Horne’s face.

‘You don’t warn me in my own base! So here is what you do – go to the quarters, rouse my men and surrender to their custody or … I shall execute your men, all of them, one every minute, starting with this one. In fact, just to convince you …’

There was a flash. The camera jerked back, simultaneous with gasps and curses in the crowded monitor room. Then there were shouts coming over as the picture stabilised to show one of the Grey Sentinels pointing his weapon at Horne, yelling at him to lay down his gun. Horne was still grinning as he held the gun to the throat of the next prisoner along. The first hung forward out of his canister, bloody and still.

‘Put it down, sir, put it down! Stop this dishonouring of our commandery, stop it …’

‘I am your captain, Villem, I am your breath, your life, you owe me your obedience, your loyalty to the brink of death and beyond! Surrender or be destroyed!’

But the rebel Grey Sentinel was shouting over the words of his captain, his voice climbing to a crescendo of rage while into the frame came another Grey Sentinel, stealthily moving in on his blind side. Three weapons aimed, fury converging, targets acquired, no going back …

Suddenly, everywhere, men were staggering forward out of their canister cells. The rebel Grey Sentinel glanced to the side, and Horne ducked, firing at the prisoner and missing. The holodisplay showed bolts of energy striking the rebel Grey before a freed Stormlion trooper lurched into the frame and threw a punch. The cam picture shook wildly, blurred as if dropped, then came to a rest showing a violent scramble of legs. There were shouts, agonised shrieks, and the buzz-whip sound of energy weapons.

In the monitor room all eyes were riveted to the incredible scene. Gideon continually called for anyone in the holding cell to respond and pick up the cam. Minutes went by, the sounds of struggle died away, and finally booted feet approached; the cam was lifted and the bloodied features of a soldier came into view. Theo heard Malachi and the others laugh quietly and murmur, ‘Schmitt made it!’ ‘Well, of course!’

‘Hello,’ Schmitt said. ‘Anyone there?’

‘Yes, corporal,’ said Gideon. ‘We see you. What’s your status?’

‘Seven dead, nine wounded, and all the Sentinels are either dead or out cold.’

‘How were you freed?’

‘No idea, sir.’

‘Right, I’m sending stretchers up for the wounded …’ Gideon pointed at Klein and Lange, who nodded sharply and were gone. ‘In the meantime, gather weapons and secure the holding area. Oh, and is Captain Horne among the survivors?’

‘Just a second, sir.’ The cam blurred, swayed back and forth, then was steadied to point down at a dark, gory form on the floor. It was Nathaniel Horne, half his head seared away into bloody ruin, one wide and glittering eye staring up from the other half. ‘I’d say that was a negative, sir.’

After that it was a matter of getting the freed Stormlions down to the dock and aboard the
Starfire
. Theo went with Faraday up to the first floor to help stretcher out the wounded, and met Hartmann and Boyd who revealed that they’d been responsible for freeing the captives by cutting one of the power feeds to Holding Cell Omega. After that it took nearly an hour to get the 130-plus soldiers on board, berthed and quartered. Many of them were young and painfully earnest and as he spoke to them he wondered how they would react on seeing Rawlins’s vid testimony. Gideon had made it plain earlier that everyone had to see it, but Theo knew that these young men were in no fit mental state to deal with the radical challenge that the testimony represented.

Finally, all hatches and seals were secured, the shipside anchors were declamped and the
Starfire
’s thrusters turned her towards the exit. Theo, now stripped of the SLAM armour, was sitting on a crate in a side corridor alongside another nine soldiers, watching exterior shots of their departure on a wall monitor, when there was a tap on his shoulder. It was Hartmann, one of Gideon’s sergeants.

‘Sorry to disturb your rest, Major, but Captain Gideon is requesting that you join him on the bridge.’

Theo sighed, puffing out his cheeks, then gave a weary laugh. ‘
Ja
, Sergeant, and who would refuse such a request, eh?’ He got creakingly to his feet. ‘Then let us be on our way.’

The
Starfire
’s bridge was really meant for the flight commander, helmsman and tactical officer – now it was crowded with them and Theo, Hartmann and a Tygran soldier Theo didn’t know.

‘Theo, my apologies for disturbing your well-deserved rest,’ Gideon said, half-turning in his couch. ‘But we have an odd situation – it appears that after you and Faraday finished with the stretcher parties, Captain Horne’s body went missing. Do you recall seeing his body while you were there?’

‘I did. No man ever looked deader.’

‘Interesting,’ Gideon said drily, then indicated the unknown Tygran soldier. ‘This is Corporal Fleischer. About ten minutes before we cast off, I sent him back into the base to recover the captaincy datalog from Horne’s body … Josef, tell these gentlemen what you found.’

‘Yes, sir. I re-entered the base as you instructed and took the elevator to the second floor. But when I reached the holding cell, Captain Horne’s body was missing. There was a trail of blood leading across to an open doorway and I saw handprints on the floor …’

‘Surely not, sir!’ said Malachi. ‘The man was utterly lifeless – it must have been one of the tech staff.’

Gideon looked back at Fleischer. ‘Any evidence of the body being carried or dragged away, Corporal?’

‘None, sir, no footprints in the blood trail, no sign of anyone else.’

‘Captain, I saw Horne’s body,’ Theo said. ‘Half of his brains were charred meat – it would be impossible …’

‘No,’ said Gideon. ‘It is possible, if Nathaniel Horne was only outwardly Human.’

‘Field barrier ahead, sir,’ said the helmsman, Berg. ‘Transit in twenty-three seconds.’

The entrance to Base Wolf was an immense ragged oval across which a forcefield stretched, a tenuous curtain of glitter against the deep black interstellar night. Set to sensor functions only, it brushed against the hull of the
Starfire
as it manoeuvred its way through.

‘Now clear of Base Wolf,’ said Berg.

Gideon nodded and turned back to Theo and the others. ‘I think it would be wise to consider Captain Horne still, in some way or fashion, alive …’

‘Contact! – vessel at 490 kiloms, following intercept vector …’

‘Dammit! – shields to full, all weapons fire on acquisition! Why didn’t you see it?’

The helmsman Berg was both appalled and angry. ‘Sir, my displays showed inner and outer vicinity clear and empty, then suddenly it was there …’

‘Intruder about to appear over the asteroid horizon, sir,’ said Malachi at tactical. ‘All weapon banks primed …’

Theo caught a momentary glimpse of something flying into view before needling rays of blinding light stabbed out from it. A burst of dazzling whiteness flooded the bridge for a second, fading to reveal blank holodisplays and screens showing only cyclic patterns. The helmsman and tactical officer tried keying in commands but could only obtain limited sensor data, while ahead of them loomed a ship several times as big as the scout. Its lines were swept back with odd edges that curved out of the smooth hull. Theo nodded to himself – this was a predator and they had just become its prey.

‘It’s the
Chaxothal
,’ murmured Malachi. On seeing Theo’s puzzled look, he added, ‘Becker’s flagship.’

A voice spoke suddenly from comm speakers in the bridge, and probably elsewhere in the scout.

‘Pirated vessel
Starfire
,’ came a voice rich with measured tones. ‘This is Marshal Becker. All your main systems are now under my control and all those on board should now consider themselves in my custody. Former captain Franklyn Gideon is directed to stand down and disarm all personnel prior to boarding by a senior officer.’

Gideon was silent for a moment, staring so intently at the other ship that Theo thought he was about to let out a bellow of rage and futility. Finally, the man set his jaw and said:

‘No, I will not stand down.’

Screens and displays suddenly flashed into life, showing the image of a grey-uniformed man, head and shoulders against a large dark blue command couch. The man had a long face with a powerful jaw, buzzcut dark hair and oddly mild brown eyes.

‘Oh, you will, Gideon. You see, I have in my hold a large number of prisoners, Human prisoners. You have heard of the Humans indentured to the Roug, I assume.’

Some of the screens switched to overhead view of a few dozen people crammed into some kind of cargo chamber watched over by armed guards from a high gantry. Theo leaned forward to study the picture – some wore formal-looking robes and their features, he realised, were Asiatic.

‘They’re Pyreans … you’ve raided the
Retributor
,’ Gideon said in disbelief. ‘But Tygran troops are not to be combat-deployed against other Humans! – that was the core of the agreement with the Hegemony …

‘Don’t be naïve, Gideon. These Pyreans have become a threat to the Hegemony and therefore to Tygra. Now, unless you obey my instructions I shall have one of them shot every five minutes, or perhaps two every ten minutes …’

‘This is nothing short of barbaric.’ ‘This is methodology, Gideon,’ said Becker. ‘For the sake of Tygra, what must be done shall be done. The goal glorifies the path taken to reach it …’

‘A small craft has just flown out of the base entrance,’ said Malachi. ‘It looks like a personnel shuttle and it’s heading our way.’

‘Ah, that will be Horne and his men,’ Becker said. ‘He will accept your surrender and take command.’

‘You do know he’s not Human,’ said Gideon. ‘He is Human enough to serve Tygra,’ said Becker. ‘And strong enough, and loyal enough. So what’s it to be, Gideon – surrender or bloodbath? I’d give you time to think it over but I have a busy schedule ahead …’