Prevail (The Pike Chronicles Book 2) (2 page)

The sound of the gunshot was unmistakable. Seiben instantly knew who pulled the trigger. None of his crew would risk firing on the raiders. It had to be their passenger. He quietly cursed his nephew for convincing him to bring the lifeboat on board.

The raider leader stood close and moved without hesitation. He seized Seiben by the throat and rammed his weapon into his cheek. The force of the impact made Seiben’s head snap back violently. The raider held him there, his head pushed all the way back, sending spikes of pain down the back of his neck.

“Do you want to die?” said the leader in a low voice that was almost a growl.

“No,” said Seiben, hearing the fear in his own voice.

“Who’s out there?”

“It’s not one of my men. I swear it.”

“Then who?”

“I don’t know who he is. We found a life pod and brought it on board. He was in it.”

“Just him?”

“I think so.”

The raider increased the pressure on Seiben’s throat, making him gag.

“I don’t know. He won’t let anyone in the life pod.”

The leader studied Seiben, his expression hidden behind the helmet’s visor. Then he tapped his communicator and spoke to one of his men.

“Go to the hangar bay. There’s a life pod there. Take a good look and make sure nobody is hiding inside.”

The leader turned his attention to the doorway. Two of his men were flanking it, weapons drawn. The fourth raider pointed his weapon at Seiben’s nephew.

The leader shouted at the doorway. “You’re outnumbered. We know you’re out there. You have no chance. Give yourself up and we won’t kill you.”

No answer.

“We have hostages. We will kill them.”

Still no answer.

Seiben trembled. He tried to control himself, but the fear was too powerful. He knew the raider wasn’t bluffing. They would think nothing of killing the entire crew. Even if the stranger gave himself up they would likely kill everybody anyway, just to set an example.

An instant later Seiben had doubled over, his hands clenching his ears. The leader had let go of his throat and raised his hand to his helmet. If anything was said, Seiben couldn’t hear it. He couldn’t hear anything.

The stranger streaked onto the bridge. His movements were a blur, but Seiben could see his weapon firing, even if he couldn’t hear the shots. He saw the men on either side of the doorway drop. A split second later the leader hit the floor, a hole in the center of his visor. Seiben turned to look for his nephew and saw Milo and the raider on the floor amidst a growing pool of blood. Had Milo been shot? But Milo was moving, clenching his hands to his ears. The blood belonged to the raider.

He turned to see the stranger approach him. He was saying something, but Seiben couldn’t hear it. The stranger pointed to his ears and gestured with his hands in a way that seemed to say his hearing would come back. Seiben wanted to shout at the man, to tell him how stupid he was to put all their lives at risk. He held back, though, deciding he’d rather hear himself do it.

The raider entered the hangar bay, weapon at the ready, finger on the trigger. The life pod sat at the far end. There was a pool of blood on the floor, and blood on the side of the vessel. His heart beat faster, pounding against his ribs. He scanned the room looking for threats, but found nothing. He advanced slowly on the life pod.

The raider covered half the distance to the life pod without incident. He stopped when he reached the pool of blood. Someone had been shot here. The thought made him feel very exposed. He looked up to the catwalks, pointing his weapon and visually sweeping the upper levels. If he wanted to ambush someone that was where he would wait.

Again he didn’t see anyone. He looked back down at the pool of blood. Whoever had been killed here was careless. He had a feeling that it was his men. Two had been sent in this direction. They likely stood like idiots out in the open, when they should have taken the upper levels first and made sure there were no snipers.

He knew that made him an idiot as well, but the boss said the life pod was the threat, so that was the priority. Besides, if someone had still been up there, they would have taken him out already.

He moved forward again, still scanning the catwalks, weapon ready to fire on anything that moved up there. By the time he reached the life pod he felt satisfied that he was alone. Only one question remained, was there anybody inside the vessel?

The design was unfamiliar. He had never seen the markings before. It looked to be a military craft. But who’s military? It certainly did not belong to this region of space.

He stepped up to the hatch. It was closed, but had obviously been forced open. He stood to the side of the hatch, reached out and pulled. The door swung open with a moan, but nothing else. No weapon fire. No sound of any kind.

He inched closer to the opening and peeked from the side, careful not to expose himself. Still nothing. Inside was total darkness. He gripped his weapon tighter and took several deep breaths to calm his nerves. He had to get inside. There was only one way to do it, fast and hard. He would rush in and shoot anything that moved.

He prepared to charge, took a few more breaths and nodded to himself. He would go in on the count of three.

One.

Two.

Three.

He pushed off and bolted into the dark opening.

The bullet hit just below his collar bone, spinning him around and backwards. He landed on his stomach, just outside the life pod. His entire right side on fire. He heard footsteps behind him and groped for his weapon, but he had lost it when he fell. He used his last bit of strength and struggled to push himself onto his back.

He looked up and saw a dark haired woman standing over him. She had a cold, deadly look in her eyes and held a weapon in her hands. Without a word she raised the weapon, pointed it at his head, and fired.

Chief Engineer Rajneesh Singh ran through the Hermes corridors, desperate to reach the bridge. The abandon ship announcement mingled with the furious sound of firefights. Everything was falling apart.

He pushed against throngs of crewmembers heading the other way, trying to get to the lifeboats. Lynda had not responded to any of his messages since her last comm. The last thing she had said to him was, “I’m sorry.” Then the Hermes crash landed. The violent landing had thrown him several meters. He could only imagine what had happened to Lynda on the bridge.

He kept repeating her last words in his head. What was she sorry about? He had never heard that tone in her voice before. The words were spoken with a profound sadness that made his chest tighten.

It had angered him when she volunteered to serve on the Hermes. He had tried to break their relationship off, but knew he wasn’t strong enough to stay away. The Hermes assignment was supposed to solve that problem. Yet she insisted on following him there. Her belief that they belonged together was unshakable, despite his weakness.

In truth he was afraid of his feelings for her. He didn’t understand it. Now that she was all he could think about, he didn’t know why he ever tried to end things. He couldn’t imagine a life without her.

When he first reached the bridge, he didn’t see her. The room was completely abandoned and he thought, with some relief, that she had left with everyone else. Then he saw her broken body wrapped around a console.

“Lynda!” he cried, and ran to her. He felt her neck for a pulse. Nothing. He moved his fingers around, in case he made a mistake. Still no pulse. She was dead. The realization overwhelmed him. His legs gave way. He collapsed onto her lifeless body and wept.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m so sorry.” He looked deep into her empty blue eyes and said, “I’m going to fix this. I’m going to make it right. You’ll see.” He lifted her into his arms and stroked her hair.

“Why would they leave you here? Why didn’t anyone help you? It doesn’t matter. I’m here now. I’ll save you.”

He looked around frantically, not sure what he hoped to find. He spotted the open weapons locker, as the abandon ship announcement repeated over the speakers.

“I’m going to get you out of here, Lynda. We’re going to get through this.”

He picked up her dead body and threw her over his shoulder in a fireman carry. He turned and headed for the exit, but first stopped at the weapons locker and picked up a railgun.

He needed to make it to the lifeboats, and he didn’t have any time to spare. Carrying Lynda slowed him down considerably. She felt much heavier than he expected and he whispered, “Lynda, I know you’re hurt, but you have to help me a little so we can make it to the lifeboats in time.” Lynda’s corpse didn’t answer. “Never mind. You just rest and get your strength. I’ll get us there.”

Turning a corner he came upon two Kemmar soldiers who immediately opened fire. He ducked back behind the corner. He stood there for a moment, breathing heavily, unsure of what to do. His mind cleared and he knew he had no other option. He had no time to spare.

Lunging out from his hiding spot he charged the Kemmar, firing his railgun at both of them. They fired back, but Singh’s resolve was too powerful. He sprayed both with railgun fire as he charged. For a moment the soldiers seemed confused by his fearlessness. That was all the hesitation he needed. Several rounds shattered the visor of one Kemmar, then the other. Both dropped at Singh’s feet. He stepped over them without a second look and continued for the lifeboats.

When he arrived at the hangar, the rest of the crew had already boarded. Every one of them was safe, even while Lynda, their XO, lay dying on the bridge. All they cared about was their own safety. It disgusted him. He searched for a lifeboat, but each one seemed full. No extra room. Sorry.

He was about to lose all hope when the last lifeboat was empty. He rushed inside and set Lynda down. His hand felt wet. He looked down to see it was covered in blood. Had he been shot? No, he had no wounds. His stomach dropped as the realization struck him. Bending down he pulled Lynda foreword so he could examine her. There was a large wound in the center of her back. She had been shot by the Kemmar.

Singh carefully set Lynda on the floor and seized the first aid kit. He poured a gelatinous substance onto her wound and it spread out, filling every crevice.

At that moment the lifeboat launched with all the others. Singh didn’t need to look at the instruments to know that an FTL bubble had formed around the vessel. He heard the faint hum. But he had no interest. He stared at Lynda’s dead body, tears filling his eyes.

“You keep getting hurt. None of this should have happened to you. It’s all their fault. I don’t know why they left you, but they will pay. You’ll see.”

It was then that he made a solemn vow.

“I swear to you, Lynda, all those who left you to die will pay. Captain Pike will pay. Space Force will pay.”

The Kemmar warship had no way of capturing all the lifeboats. It focused on one and gave chase. Even at FTL speeds it had no trouble keeping up. As it bridged the gap between them, the Kemmar ship fired an ion cannon, disabling the smaller craft’s FTL bubble.

When both ships came to a stop, several smaller vessels sped out of the large warship and raced towards the tiny pod. Once in range the Kemmar vessels fired grappling arms at the lifeboat, seized it, and returned to the warship with it in tow.

When the tiny craft was secured, Kemmar soldiers quickly surrounded it, energy weapons at the ready. A large bot rolled up to the lifeboat. It had arms with large claw shaped instrument on the ends. The bot went to work on the hatch and ripped it open with little effort. Several soldiers rushed in and found two occupants, a male holding a clearly dead female in his arms. The male stroked the female’s hair as he whispered into her ear.

The Kemmar soldiers seized the male, hoisting him up by his arms. As they dragged him away he yelled, “Don’t hurt her. She needs a doctor. She needs a doctor!”

“It’s ok Raj”

Singh couldn’t believe his ears. His head spun around and there, walking beside him, was Lynda. He looked back at her body lying on the floor of the lifeboat and then looked beside him. Still there.

“How can this be?” he asked the apparition.

“Don’t worry, Raj,” said Wolfe. “I’m here now. That’s all that matters.”

“I thought I lost you.”

“I’ll never leave you, Raj.”

“They all left you on the bridge to die. None of them helped you.”

“Yes they did. And they’re going to pay, Raj. Together we’re going to make them pay.”

Security Chief Kevin St. Clair stared at the Kemmar interrogator. They had pumped him full of drugs and questioned him relentlessly for days. He wasn’t sure how many. They took shifts, making sure he didn’t get any sleep. The counter agents in his blood stream did their job for the most part, and mitigated the effects of the Kemmar drugs. But the sleep deprivation was getting to him. His eyes felt like stone curtains, his arms and legs like cement. The fatigue wore on his mind, too. He earned repeated blows from the interrogator for losing focus, not hearing questions, forgetting what was said.

They had tortured him, preferring electric shock to tender parts of his body. The voltage seared through his body like burning lava coursing through his veins. The stench of his own burning flesh made him retch causing terrible stomach cramps. Each time he thought he would break. Each time he thought he couldn’t take it anymore. But he could, and he did. They couldn’t break him. He was too stubborn. He was pretty sure they knew it, too.

Despite the grogginess, Kevin sensed that there was something different today. Now that he saw the Kemmar more regularly, and without their combat suits, he hoped he had a better read on them.

They were nasty looking creatures. Their bodies were covered with thick orange hair, like fur. The same thick hair covered their big round heads, including their faces. It made it difficult to see their eyes, which were nothing more than slits. The small nose seemed out of place on the massive head. It twitched constantly. How strong was their sense of smell? Below the nose was a savage looking mouth which revealed rows of razor sharp teeth every time they spoke.

Today his interrogator bared his teeth at Kevin. He had seen them show their teeth before and deduced that it was a sign of dominance, maybe even aggression. But even then it was only for a few moments, after which they would close their mouths. Today the interrogator bared his teeth and left them that way, giving Kevin a real good look. There were three rows of teeth on the top and three rows on the bottom. Vicious looking things. Each tooth was narrow and pointy, and looked like it could tear the toughest material into tatters. He couldn’t count them but thought there must be hundreds of those things in its mouth.

“You smiling at me?” said Kevin. “Want to be friends now?”

The interrogator looked back at him without responding, teeth still on display.

“Keep smiling you ugly fuck. One day soon I’m gonna fix that smile for you.”

The interrogator spoke in a low growling tone. They used a translator that had quickly analyzed Kevin’s speech and language, facilitating communication.

The interrogator said, “You believe you have power, even now when all is lost. You make threats with no hope of fulfilling them. Do they help you endure?”

“Sure. I know your time is coming. You just wait and see.”

“Unfortunately for you, that time is not today. I have something special planned instead.”

“You hitting on me now? I knew you were weird but this is messed up, even for you, don’t you think?”

The interrogator barked a command and a door opened. Two Kemmar soldiers escorted one of the Marines, Private Denney, into the room. Denney was naked. He had restraints on his wrists and ankles, forcing him to shuffle along rather than walk. They pulled him hard causing him to trip, and when he did they beat him with batons. He had been hit by those things before and knew they carried an electric shock with each blow. Denney dropped and writhed on the ground. The guards kicked him a couple of times and lifted him to his feet again. The shuffling continued. When they reached the middle of the room a cable dropped from the ceiling. The two Kemmar attached it to Denney’s wrist restraints and it retracted, pulling his arms up over his head and then his whole body until his feet no longer touched the ground.

“Chief, what the fuck are they doing?” said Denney, clearly starting to panic. They could take the beatings. That was simple. Sooner or later the beating would end, or you would be dead. Either way it would be over. The anticipation of torture was another matter entirely. Stringing up Denney like that, making him wonder what was coming next, was the worst part. That was when your fear spiked. The unknown was the worst torture of all.

“They’re just trying to scare you,” said Kevin. “Remember your training.”

“His training will not help him,” said the interrogator. “The only thing that will help him is you. Tell me about your ship. How does it travel such great distances?”

“Don’t tell him anything, Chief,” said Denney. “Don’t worry about me.”

The interrogator turned to Denney and said, “Your Chief will worry about you. He will worry a great deal.”

“Let him go you piece of shit,” said Kevin.

“You do not wish to answer my questions?”

“Go fuck yourself.”

“That is an unfortunate response,” said the interrogator, baring his rows of sharp teeth again. He then turned and prowled up to Denney, growling.

“Get the fuck away from me,” said Denney, kicking out with both feet at the interrogator, who sidestepped the blow.

Kevin strained against his own restraints, trying desperately to get to him. His muscles burned with the effort and the restraints dug into his wrists, but he couldn’t break free.

Denney kicked again. This time the interrogator caught his legs and bit down on Denney’s left thigh, ripping off a chunk of flesh and muscle. He let go of Denney’s legs and they swung back, hanging uselessly from his hips. The bite had left a large, hideous wound in Denney’s thigh. Blood gushed out of it in heaving spasms. Worse than the wound was Denney’s screams, their effect more fearsome than any torture. The interrogator turned, blood dripping off the hairs on his face, and let Kevin watch as he chewed and swallowed.

“You sick bastard,” said Kevin, unable to watch the horrific display any longer.

“Will you answer my questions now, or will I finish my meal?”

Kevin clenched his teeth and remained silent, looking away from the gruesome sight. “I’m sorry,” he whispered to Denney, tears streaking down his cheeks.

“Good. I prefer it this way,” said the interrogator.

He turned and bit down again, tearing another chunk out of Denney’s thigh. Denney continued to scream in terror while the interrogator chewed. The interrogator took one more bite, then looked at the two Kemmar guards and nodded. The two fell upon Denney with snarls, tearing off fresh slabs of flesh with their teeth.

Denney eventually stopped screaming. Kevin hoped that he was dead. Hoped that he wouldn’t have to endure anymore pain. But he couldn’t look at the horrid scene to confirm it. He couldn’t block out their grunts and growls though. Nor could he block the slapping sound of their chewing, and gulping. All along he continued to beg Denney for forgiveness.

The Kemmar took their time with the body, eating their fill. Every once in a while he heard the snapping sound of breaking bone, followed by slurping as the marrow was sucked out. When they were done they let Kevin sit alone for a few hours, with Private Denney’s mutilated body lying at his feet. He had thought that the anticipation of torture was the worst, but he was wrong. There was nothing worse than this. As the shock of what had happened faded, Kevin focused on only one thought.

Escape.

His mind cleared and he focused on getting his men out of this nightmare. He thought about the interrogator and the guards. None wore combat suits. They were large creatures, and they looked strong, but Kevin didn’t think they could hold up against a Marine in hand to hand combat. Their only real advantage was their teeth, and those shouldn’t be too hard to evade.

The Kemmar hadn’t realized that Space Force had pumped each Marine full of counter agents to offset the effect of drugs an enemy might use, which was an advantage. If they thought the Marines were drugged up they would lower their guard some more, like they did with the combat suits. They needed to be ready to take advantage of any opportunity. Time was running out.