THE PRIZE: BOOK TWO - RETRIBUTION (30 page)

“You must have some idea how to get back to Earth.”

“Wish I did, but that husband of mine made sure no one could find Earth.”

“So where are we going?”

Ellis smiled at the question. “All we have to do is find Silurian space and we’re home free… sort of.”

“Why do I get the feeling I’m not going to like the ‘sort of’.”

“Well, if my guess is right, we’ll have to travel through Thrakee space to get there.”

“Oh that’s just fucking wonderful.” The chief engineer finished checking out the connection between the suit and the liquid air tanks, and pulled a sour face. He checked the rest of the suit but that didn’t make him any happier. He did appreciate that this incredible women was putting her ass on the line to save their families, and her plan seemed reasonable, at least at face value.

It didn’t take them long to discover that the small crew of the Corvette liked to play a little on their ten day shift rotation as cover for being pirates. That meant there would only be the stand-by watch onboard. Three Tellurians and the five-man Imperial Marine detachment, two of whom were always on guard on a rotating schedule. They were the big fat fly in the proverbial ointment. No one could tell them much about the Marines, as they tended to keep to themselves and ‘entertained’ on-board rather than going ashore. Ellis was betting she could bluff them as Sub-Major Ellis of the Imperial Marines, and wore the correct uniform under the suit made for her by the strange being in the dress shop. That made wearing the suit doubly uncomfortable, but with the internal female ‘plumbing’ disabled, it was wearable. All she had to do was fake an alert and have them go ashore to guard the ship. Once down on the Marine deck there was no way they’d know she hadn’t boarded by the front door and would assume she was who she said she was. Once she did, she would kill the Tellurians and lock the ship down. After that, the rest of them would board by shuttle and they’d get the hell out of here. The hard part was walking the outside hull of the station to get to the Corvette halfway round the station. If the suit held up that long—a miracle in the Chief’s estimation.

Ellis exited the airlock close to the station and leaped the twenty-foot gap to an antenna array, her mag boots landing hard against the skin. Hopefully, no one would hear the resulting ‘clang’ as she connected. She felt rather than heard the sound and dismissed the worry of someone taking notice. The one thing they didn’t have on board was a jet pack so she had to take the slow laborious ‘step -click’ walk around the hull. Each step had to be correct, as missing could send her flying off into space with no way back. The one thing she didn’t like was the feeling of exposure as any one of the external security and docking cams would spot her in an instant. That being the case she had to take a circular route to the Corvette to avoid them. Even so, there were other cams spotted around the hull but she had no idea where they were. All she could do was bluff it if one swung around and locked onto her. The tools hanging from her utility belt should work as camouflage to make her look like a maintenance worker, or at least she hoped so. If that happened, she’d pretend to work on the nearest bit of equipment and hope for the best. Above her the dark infinity of space arched in all its splendor, the stars scattered like diamond dust across it’s black velvet surface. Once that view would have intimidated her, but not now. Now she could travel to any point in that immensity and explore any mystery simply by stepping through the inter-dimensional portal inside the pyramid. She smiled, knowing that one day she and Penn would step through that portal and go places mankind might never see. Then she let out a snort of laughter and concentrated on walking across the outer surface of the space station. First she had to capture that ship if she ever wanted to go for a ‘walk-about’ as the Australians like to say. The hiss-snap of the air valve in her helmet opening and closing was annoying, but it reminded her of just how old this suit was, and that she should speed up and get there before something, like a joint seal failed. An increasing coldness in her left leg told her that the insulation in the suit leg was breaking down. The wan light from the nearby sun wasn’t sufficient to heat the outer surface, or prevent the cold of space freezing her leg completely. If that happened she could lose the leg, or have the bones snap before she got there. Not that she would feel it, as by that time the leg would be completely numb. She’d only know it when she fell over.

After what felt like hours, the Corvette came into sight at last and she hurried towards it, thinking of heat as she started shivering. It wasn’t just the leg insulation failing, it was the whole suit. Even as she positioned herself for the twenty-foot jump to the Corvette she could feel the suit stiffening, a sure sign the outer layer was failing as the intense cold penetrated deeper. Thankfully, the Corvette lay parallel to the station with the docking collar connected to a hatch midway along the ship’s hull. Ellis positioned herself for the jump, aiming for one of the black body cooling fins near the stern, but as she did, her faceplate started to fog up. It was a sure sign the suit was about to fail completely. Ellis swore and, flexing her knees, she took a deep breath and jumped, arms outstretched to grab the fin as she sailed pass. She missed.

“Oh shit!” She muttered.

Chapter Fifteen

Breakout

As the days rolled by, Penn kept to himself. At the moment he couldn’t help his fellow travelers, much as he wanted to. They were fed and watered at regular intervals, but other than that, the slavers left them alone. He thought they might come in and take advantage of the available captured females. If necessary, he was prepared to step in and help them. To that end he’d positioned himself near the entrance hatchway after a short vicious fight with the previous occupant of the space, a rather surly, rough looking man who thought he was a tough shit. A snap kick to the groin and a knee to the face as he bent over ended the contest before it had even gotten started. It had also settled who was in charge and got to portion out the available food and water. Always women and children first. With the addition of brown contact lenses to hide his yellow eyes, he appeared little different from any number of men here and it would be a good cover once inside Empire space. Director Markoff would have his picture and description scattered all over Imperial space on the off chance he resurfaced, probably with orders to capture, not kill. That was much better from Penn’s point of view as anyone trying to take him down would hesitate for a fraction of a second before taking action. That fraction of a second was all he would need unless he got unlucky and ran into someone who shot first and asked questions later. Rather than fold his hand in half, which hurt like hell, he simply broke the cheap lock on his wrist cuffs and held them together with a bit of string.

The days rolled by, and he took solace by meditating and trying to connect to Ellis. He couldn’t, suspecting she was too busy to meditate right then. Even so, it was an iffy thing as they both had to be meditating at the same time, and thinking of each other. No matter, she’d connect when she was ready. A subtle change in the drive vibration told him they were slowing eleven hours after dropping out of hyperspace. It changed again and he felt, rather than heard the docking thrusters as the ship changed directions, moving sideways. A gentle bump and several thumps told him they’d docked somewhere, probably a space station and a good place to unload their perishable cargo, namely the captives. Now came the interesting part and Penn mentally prepared himself. If need be he’d let go completely and go berserker if the odds were too stacked against him. He didn’t think about the death toll. These were slavers and worse and anyone on the station except the captives deserved to die anyway. Either now or later, he was determined to put all slavers out of business, and if necessary hunt down and kill every last one of them. No matter what species they were, they’d forfeited any right to a trial and any such legal niceties. Soon after docking, the hatch opened and someone started yelling at them.

“Alright you lot, out of there!”

Being first, the moment he stepped through the hatchway someone grabbed him by the back of the neck and shoved him to one side of a long passageway. A rough looking line of men occupied the center and they each moved him down with the aid of a shock stick as more captives shuffled out. The women were shoved to the left, the men to the right.

“That all of them?” One burly man at the end of the passageway called.

“That’s the last of them, Boss.” The Boss walked down the line, looking from left to right, a sour look on his face.

“Probably won’t get much for this lot.”

“Pickings have got a lot slimmer since the Imperials left.”

“Most of the men we’ll have to sell to the mines, but from the look of this lot, we won’t get much.” He stopped and grabbed one of the females by the chin and forced her face up. “There’s a few bitches here we might get a good price for at the whorehouse once they’re cleaned up.”

“Make sure we get first dibs, Boss. I’m fed up screwing skanky whores.”

“Don’t like sticky seconds, huh,” he laughed. Several of the females started sobbing, and that pushed Penn over the top. Several of them were no more than young girls and just the thought of one of these assholes laying a hand on them made Penn tingle. He’d only felt like that a few times, once inside the pyramid when he saw a Thrakee lay hands on Ellis. He didn’t even need to push down on his stomach muscles to go into combat mode, it was just there, and he used it. The knife on one of the slavers belts was all he needed, and once in his hand he let loose. Time slowed to a crawl as he went down the line of slavers cutting throats or opening up a gut, the last being the Boss who now stood by the open hatch to the slave hold. Penn slowed his metabolism and stood there panting as the Boss sank to the floor trying to hold his guts in. He looked up, first at the line of dead men then up at Penn’s face.

“How… why… Not possible,” was all he managed to say before he slumped over and died.

Penn turned to look behind him, seeing blood splattered everywhere, including across the captives. They just stood in stunned disbelief at first, before slowly turning their heads to look at the blood-covered figure at the end of the passageway.

“W… what the fuck are you?” The closest man asked, shaking like a leaf.

“I am Shiva, created destroyer…” he started to say, then cut himself off. “I’m Penn, and I need to go take care of the rest of these assholes.”

“What about… what about us?”

“Find a place to clean up and get some clothes. I’ll be back.”

Saying that he strode down the passageway and up to the next deck. He had no idea how many slavers this ship carried, not that it mattered. As he stepped off the top of the stairway, a poorly aimed blaster bolt tore through the space he’d just been standing in. Penn went airborne and ran along the wall of the passageway, slashing downward as he sped by. The man screamed, dropping the rifle and grabbing his face, now split from chin to temple and gushing blood. Penn dropped behind him and grabbed him by the hair, forcing him to his knees.

“Thanks for the rifle, dickhead. You should have been a better shot.”

“Oh fuck!” Was the last thing he said before Penn slit his throat.

As it turned out, most of the slaver crew were down on the other deck, and were now dead. He only found three others, two cooks and a man on watch on the bridge. The man panicked when he saw what was happening. He broadcast the message and ran from the ship. Penn immediately locked the main airlock and proceeded to go from cabin to cabin in search of any more crewmembers, but found none. He did find where the slavers had stored, or thrown all their clothing, and after taking a hot shower to wash off the dried, caked blood, he got dressed and removed his colored contact lenses. He found his three knives in the late captain’s cabin and strapped them on. Now he felt dressed and, carrying the rifle, walked back down to the slave desk. In the meantime the rest of the captives had been busy getting cleaned up and dressed. Penn handed the rifle to the hard ass he’d kicked the shit out of with a smile, but after his short demonstration of his abilities, he didn’t think the man would give him any more trouble. The man nodded his thanks and checked out the rifle, shivering slightly as he looked into Penn’s now yellow eyes. He hadn’t noticed before in the dimness inside the slave hold, now he did and didn’t like what he saw. This man was a killer, plain and simple and it was a wonder he hadn’t killed him the first time they’d tangled, now he had handed him a blast rifle. Any thoughts he might have had about turning it on the man called Penn vanished the moment he looked into his eyes.

“What now… Mr.”

“It’s Penn, and for the moment, get some food and get comfortable. I expect we’ll have people knocking on the front door soon enough.”

“Thank you, Mr. Penn. I don’t think I… we would have lasted long… well, without you rescuing us.” The oldest of the group of females said, stepping forward. She couldn’t have been more than twenty years old.

“You’re welcome, but we’re not out of the woods yet. There’s still the matter of the people on the station to take care of first.”

“I don’t think we can fight them with what we have at hand, Mr. Penn.” The burly man put in.

“What’s your name?” Penn asked.

“Clive Danton, sir.”

“Just Penn will do, and I don’t expect you to fight them. That’s my job.”

“You…well I seen what you can do, but you think you can take out the whole station like that?”

“Yes and no. All I have to do is get to the main control station and take that over. Once I control the air it shouldn’t be hard to take out the rest.”

“You mean… kill them all?” He asked, looking shocked.

“These people are slavers and worse, so I have no sympathy for any of them.” He growled. “And they or others like them stole my wife. That, if for no other reason is sufficient justification for me to kill them all.”

“Killing them won’t bring her back.” One of the girls intoned. Penn swung on her.