Beyond Mars Crimson Fleet (33 page)

As
Winslow dwelled on his betrayal, it magnified the feelings of
self-recrimination within the man and he erupted in a sudden yell
of rage as his fist punched a wall. The
Mariner’s
bridge crewmen were taken
back by his unexpected behavior. Mouths gaped in bewilderment while
Winslow withdrew into himself and dropped his head in his disgrace,
unable to return any gaze.

* * * * *

Fifteen
minutes later, a shuttle from the
Mariner
entered the shadowy docking
bay of the
Morning Star
and landed amid the smoke and thunder of its fiery thrusters.
After the massive bay doors closed and locked, the dimly lit
chamber was slowly pressurized with breathable air. It was then
that all of the shuttle’s communications went strangely dead,
replace by static noise that crackled with a hiss on every
channel.

The pilot
did not know what to make of it, as he worked his transceiver
controls, but nothing came of his efforts. Still, the craft was
safe within the bay of the ship, and no real danger was posed to
the crew or its passengers. The pilot then proceeded to shut down
the shuttle’s systems as the co-pilot opened the craft’s hatch. He
hoped that the
Morning Star’s
maintenance crew could find the cause of the
abnormality before their departure.

After the craft had been
secured, Paladin led the small group of men from the shuttle. Their
booted footsteps reverberated in lingering echoes throughout the
surreal metal chamber of shade and emptiness. Each man thought it
strange that no other craft, tools, or even supplies were in the
compartment. Normally, a ship’s landing bay is a hotbed of
activity, but here there was nothing. There were no signs of any
work ever having been performed, just nothing.

The group’s paced slowed,
as the unsettling quiet became as an obstacle that dragged and
mired each foot. Yet, the small party proceeded closer to the exit
hatches. Occasionally a pair of eyes probed the long shadows, but
still they continued.

As the group drew closer, a
fleeting gust of equalizing air awakened their senses as every exit
hatch sprung open with a loud bang. Heavily armed men in the
uniforms of Earth security forces as well as their cyborg
counterparts then charged out and surrounded the small party of
Martians. Their weapons were pointed menacingly at the four
men.

It was then that a tall and
lanky bearded man with red hair stepped out from behind a hatch. A
small corridor was then made for him through the ring of soldiers,
as the Earthmen stood aside to let him pass. As he moved closer,
Paladin made out the eagles on the collar of his uniform,
indicating he was a “full bird” colonel.

“Commander Paladin,” the
officer announced as he drew closer. “I am Colonel Galler, Special
Adjutant to the Administrator of Mars. By order of the Earth
Supreme Council, you and your crewmen, Commander Paladin, are under
arrest. The charge is treason.”

* * * * *

It was
over an hour since Paladin’s departure from the
Mariner
. As every second ticked by,
Winslow’s mind sank further into despair, trapping him in a
self-imposed prison that he could not escape from. Confusion beset
him as well, as he saw no way out of the mess that was contrived
from his own vanity and pride. Perhaps Paladin was totally right in
denying the promotion of deputy commander to him, for even he now
questioned his ability to lead.

Winslow readily showed his
inadequacy as he ignored even the simplest of command requests from
the bridge crew, preferring to flounder in the silence of
self-pity. He was locked in his own purgatory, not able to think
past his cowardice and disloyalty to Paladin and the fleet.
However, the door to his cell was about to be sprung
open.

“Captain
Winslow!” the dark haired woman sitting at the communication’s
position trumpeted out. “I’m receiving a transmission from
the
Crazy Horse
on
Secure Channel Three!”

For a
moment, Winslow’s trance was broken. He thought he heard someone
say something about the
Crazy
Horse
, but he put it off to wishful
thinking.

“Captain
Winslow!” the woman repeated. “I’m receiving a transmission from
the
Crazy Horse
!

“What?” Winslow managed,
shaken from his stupor.

“I’m
receiving a transmission from the
Crazy
Horse
,” she toned down her
excitement.

Winslow was mystified. “It
can’t be? Are you sure?”

“Yes, Sir!” she
passionately answered, “It’s Deputy Commander Wakinyan,
himself!”

Winslow did not believe it,
but he grasped at the hope like a rope thrown to a drowning man.
“AUDIO ON!” he commanded.

After flicking a switch,
the woman nodded an affirmative to the transceiver
connection.

Angel Fire to Right Guard!
We copy you!” Winslow was anxious, but still unsure. “We thought
you were all dead! Over!”

“Hardly!” Wakinyan’s voice
was unmistakable. “Where’s Commander Paladin?” the man
pressed.

Winslow
wavered for a moment, but then answered. “He went aboard the
Morning Star
about an hour
ago to interrogate some saboteurs at the request of Mr.
Damon.”

“DAMN IT!” swore Wakinyan
over the loud speaker in a spurt of exasperation.

* * * * *

Chapter 19: The
Deliverers

As
Commander Paladin was “escorted” down a corridor of the
Morning Star
, the long
hallway to the ship’s bridge became a gantlet of debasement for the
elderly Martian fleet officer. Hard slaps struck his head a
multitude of times, while pushing hands and punching fists
staggered him forward in sporadic pain. Plasma rifle barrels were
shoved and poked painfully deep into his back as a reminder to the
handcuffed man of his helplessness. Yet, all this was done under
the approving gaze of the smirking Colonel
Galler.

However, as blood trickled
from the mouth of Paladin’s bruised face, he still showed the pride
and bravery that were apart of his spirit and long service. Even
the sharpest tongues of his merciless captors, who mocked him with
the foulest of insults, drew no response from the man, for he
believed his spirit could never be destroyed.

But his humiliation began
to digress beyond a tool to break him. It became a frenzy of hatred
for the Earth loyalists who eagerly showed their contempt. One of
his guards, seeing that the maltreatment was having little effect,
became incensed. His boot quickly came up and drove hard into the
aging officer’s stomach. Paladin crumpled to the floor in sudden
agony. He was then rolled over and grabbed by his ankles as the
guards laughed. The Earth loyalists then dragged their helpless
prisoner the last hundred feet to the bridge’s hatch, and finally
through it after it had opened.

“That’s enough of that!”
Feoras Damon ordered as he watched Paladin hauled horizontally onto
the bridge. “I want something left when that Earth fleet
arrives.”

The guards then released
Paladin’s ankles and pulled him to his feet. However, they held the
man by his arms so he could not move. Damon regarded Paladin’s
ruffled appearance and smiled. The two men’s eyes then
locked.

“Why are you doing this?
Paladin managed out. “Why are you betraying your own
people?”

For a moment, Damon cocked his
head back in thought. “Why indeed.” Feoras paused again. “Because
I’m an Omni-Solarist!” the man stated bluntly. “Mankind’s survival
depends upon an all-powerful central government. As a species, we
face the threat of extinction by alien races and other forces in
the universe. Breaking away from
The
Order
would be—suicide.”

“Ever person has the right to make their own
decisions—to choose their own destiny!” Paladin became angry.
“They’re not some damn inanimate object to be used for your will—or
pleasure!”

Damon became annoyed at the Martian
officer’s ideals. “Don’t give me any of that individual rights
bullshit, or that all men are created equal. The masses have only
the rights that we give them. As individuals, their lives are
mundane and meaningless. Only when they serve a true political
purpose does their existence have any significance.”

”You talk about people as
if they’re lower than the dirt on your shoes, and yet, you couldn’t
subsist without them, could you? What kind of rationale does your
superior mind come to about that?” Paladin was unwavering. “Every
ascending being has the ability to transcend the circumstances of
their life. It is their link to the Divine. And make no mistake
about it, rights—come from God!”

“Don’t make me laugh! There
is no God!” Feoras amusingly confided his lack of belief. If he
did, he wouldn’t make men like me,” he chuckled with a sneer. “One
day, a man like me will rule this universe!” Damon outstretched his
arms to emphasize his point.

Paladin, however, was
unshakeable. “Who made you this way—is yourself! And your future is
no question. It’s going to be a sure one-way trip to
hell!”

Damon’s face went back to
a smile. “Perhaps, but the road to hell is paved with gold—and
built with power! And I, for one, will enjoy the ride!”

Unexpectedly, however, the
hatch to the bridge slid open and Captain Omar Khalid then strode
in.

“Ah, I
see our party is complete,” Damon said as he spied the captain of
the
Mir
. “Are you
ready to assume command of the fleet, Captain—or should I
say—Commander Khalid?”

“Ready,
Mr. Damon!” Khalid announced happily. “By the way, I’ve been
listening on our communication’s net. Wakinyan is dead!” he
announced with a chuckle. “Denko reported that the
Crazy Horse
was destroyed
in battle!” his mind misinterpreted Denko’s actual
words.

“Excellent!” Damon was pleased.

“I’ve waited for a long
time for that savage to die!” Khalid confessed. “I can just imagine
his body out there—floating in space!”

* * * * *

As
the
Crazy Horse
sped up to engage its hyper-engines, a space-suited Wakinyan,
Major Franks, and two platoons of Martian Marines strapped
themselves in a compartment where the hull was thoroughly breached
and opened to space with impact harnesses that were hastily mounted
to its bulkhead. This was their jump-off point after they reached
the
Morning Star
.
It was a major part of the rescue plan. The position was chosen to
afford maximum protection for the raiders as well as
concealment.

Franks was in awe of
Wakinyan’s audacity and tactical mind. “You know something,
Wakinyan? You’re crazy enough to be a marine,” he said as he
watched objects in space zipping by.

“I assume you meant that as
a compliment, Major,” Richard responded through his
microphone.

“Yes,
Sir, it was,” Franks’ face sported a huge grin. “It’s a good plan.
I just hope Winslow gave us the exact coordinates of the
Morning Star
.”

“Try not to think about
it,” Wakinyan reassured.

“Somehow that’s not going
to help the lump in my throat,” Franks nervously remarked. “I just
don’t under stand why we don’t use boarding pods.”

Suddenly, a small piece of
rock punched a hole through a raised hull plate above the two
men.

“With the shields
occasionally malfunctioning, I think the pods are a little safer
than this!”

“If it means anything—I
agree. But regardless of how close we get to them in a pod, they’ll
still detect us. This way, the bastards won’t know that we’re
aboard their ship—until it’s too late. It will give Paladin and the
others a chance before Damon and his lot can act.”

“I’ve always hated that political scumbag. If he’s
hurt Commander Paladin, I’ll cut his heart out!”

“Not if I do it
first!”

Without warning, a fluid,
medium blue haze began to form around perimeter of the Martian
destroyer. The mist of energy became more intense and swiftly
advanced closer to the ship with every passing second.

“What the hell is that?” an
unrecognizable voice cried out over the intercom as the signal
began to break up.

“Hang on!” Wakinyan warned all, “We’re about
to jump into hyperspace!”

Finally,
both the compartment and the marines took up the glow of the
man-made aurora. In a flash of bursting energy, the
Crazy Horse
vanished into
the swirling fields of a dimensional wormhole.

* * * * *

The
bridge crew of the
Morning Star
went about their normal routines as Damon, Khalid,
and Galler held a whispered conversation. Paladin, now seated and
tended by a single guard, tried to listen in, but the hum and
chatter of operating equipment and instruments drown out their
scheming. The more they talked, however, the more his curiosity
intensified. It seemed that nothing out of the ordinary was
happening, let alone a large-scale mutiny.