Special Branch XIII: Soulless
POSTED BY: NEEDY
UPDATED: Tuesday, August 22, 2023 02:59
VIEWED: 34426
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The man stood at the top of the hill, looking down at the scorched land before him. Slowly, he made his way down the rocky slope, although his heart told him not to. Turn around. Go back. Crawl under any rock you can find. It’s better than the alternative.
Trenches cut across the landscape, blackened paths, carved out by downed ships that cauterised the land. The ground smoked underneath the white sky.
Needy stepped closer. From a distance he had recognised some of the crafts, but only now as he edged closer to the chaos that had been laid out before him did it become a reality. The horror of it turned his stomach.
A large ship in the distance had stretched for miles, broken in several large pieces, but recognisable all the same. The grandest tree in the universe had been cut down and left to rot in this barren wasteland. The Sereni-Tree; a craft constructed, grown and manipulated, had been a part of Needy’s life, just as it had been for so many others; only now it was dead, along with all those hundreds of people that had made The Tree their home.
But Needy tried to shake of the thoughts of those occupants for now, undoubtedly their deaths would haunt him in time too. But as of this moment, the only ship he cared about was the one before him now, an ISSCV classed ship—The Epsilon.
Needy picked up the pace, stumbling on the rocks and wreckage that surrounded him.
The heat on this rock was intolerable, even though he couldn’t be sure which planet he was on exactly. The sun couldn’t be seen in the sky, and what buildings remained standing in the distance were nothing but skeletons of their former selves.
This wasn’t home, not for anybody. It hadn’t been for a long time.
The passenger vessel was still in one large piece, unlike many of the others that surrounded it, but it still was in no condition for flying. It was as dead as anything else on this planet.
There was nobody inside. He didn’t how he knew, but he knew it all the same. They’d survived this disaster.
He left the ship and made his way onwards across the scarred landscape. Beyond the Epsilon, the ground dipped lower and there before him was the open field. An open field of dead bodies. A death pit.
He imagined, no, he knew, this was the place where it had all ended. The final battle. From here on out, he wouldn’t see anything other than death. A trail of bodies led down to the field and back up again, to the other side where the Sereni-Tree had made its final resting place.
The bodies wore uniforms of blue, red, brown. Every colour under the sun. Every type of man, of woman and child. Different backgrounds, different agendas, but all had come to the same place. All had been led here. Here, they’d made their last stand.
Needy wandered down, his face long and drawn as these nameless corpses with gruesome injuries and blank faces looked up at him. As if they’d been waiting for him to come, to help them. Only now it was too late. There was no helping any of them now.
A young man, a teenager, held a bloodstained sword in his lifeless hand, helpless to defend him as the spear, still lodged in his heart, had ended his life in an instant.
Another man, older this time, and wearing Alliance blues had died just as suddenly, a bullet to the head.
Everywhere he stepped, another body, another story, another life extinguished in the blinking of an eye.
But then he found him.
The soldier wore body armour and was still, even now, strapped with knives and guns. But they’d done him no good. A weapon, likely a sword, had sliced him up from his gut to his face—one swift motion that spilled his blood across the ground and ended his life then and there. Half of his face was a bloody mess and not even his mother could have identified that half. But the rest, Needy knew him. Once upon a time he’d been Seth Franklin, but the companion had known him as Safe. Now he was just another body in a field made up of them.
Safe was just the first he found. Others too laid there for him to discover. Wisp, Seryn, Amy, Flechette, Se
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Another day another life or death struggle. Wisp was getting kinda tired of everyone trying to kill him all the time. He was even more tired of people around him getting targeted. At least Julie and Kyra were safe, and Needy... Well at least he was still alive. Or had he been dead before and now he was alive? Only time would tell on that front. Soul was the big priority now anyway and hand in hand with that was Ciarian.
Wisp stood at the ladder to his bunk. Fatigue was setting in as his joints began to ache and his brain slowed with foggy clouds. But he couldn't permit himself the luxury of sleep just yet. There was something long overdue that needed his attention, and he couldn’t put it off any longer. He headed down the hall to the bunk Vixen had claimed and buzzed. After a moment the hatches lock clicked open and turned an inviting shade of green.
Down the hatch Wisp was greeted by Vixen pulling herself up to a bar across the roof in a chin-up. She was obviously well into her workout as sweat shimmered across her body and her skimpy workout attire was damp with perspiration. Her short black hair still defied gravity and twisted upward like dozens of tiny thorns.
"I was wondering when you'd finally show up. You ready to talk now?" she unwrapped herself from the ceiling and grabbed a bottle beside her.
"I’ve been ready to talk for a while but I’ve kind of been busy with the heroic rescue business we seem to have started."
"Oh come now a little bit of combat never stopped us before.” she pouted at him "Remember that time on Viota? Those guards didn't know what to do when they caught us at it whilst you hacked their mainframe. They were even more surprised when i started shooting from on top of you."
"Yea well that was then and this is now. Times have changed quite a bit since then. In fact you’ve done quite a few unforgivable things to me since then."
"If I was so unforgivable then why did you risk everything to rescue me?"
"You know I’ve been wracking my brain for a good reason and I couldn't come up with anything that would really hold water. But this is what I came up with. You're all I got. For better or worse you've always been at my back. And you've done horrible things to me and people I care about but you've always had me in mind no matter how twisted that mind is."
"Aww stop you'll make me blush"
"And since Boros you really seem to have changed. You've not killed anyone I happen to care about and you’ve had my back and this crews back in a lot of tough spots. I really thought you were fitting in. But I gotta know one thing."
"Yes I did have them enlarged but only by half a cup, I'm really impressed you noticed” she replied with a laugh and a smile.
Wisp didn't laugh. "What happened on Santos?" and then she stopped laughing. In fact her whole grin collapsed.
"We were under fire and you knocked me out" Wisp continued "and I don’t begrudge you for that, you probably saved my life. But then I wake up a week later in a hospital. On whitehaven with a stash of cash and you're nowhere in sight. Not even a note or Holo? Not even a gorram message with the nurse! Why Vixen? Why did you just up and leave after everything?"
"Come on now did you just expect me to sit there and play nursemaid? I had Gosa to do"
"Bullshit. After all the trouble you went through over me? Those years chasing me around the verse? And I'm laid there entirely in your debt for better or worse and you just walk out?"
Vixen stepped to the sink and splashed water on her face. "Do you remember the chain of events that lead us to Santos? The fighting the alliance, helping the rebellion junk?"
"Yea what of it?"
Vixen twisted back to look at him again "And do you remember who I Gorram am?" she shouted at him. I am Vixen Goddard thief, murderer, and general Bitch! Then a wink from you little boy blue and I'm Florence Fucking Nightingale! And the worst part? I actually liked it"
She turned away again and leant against the wall. Staring at the sink her ragged hair falling over her cheeks. "I sat there in
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Space was always black. Out here, there was no such thing as day or night. Sleeping patterns were determined by clocks. But even now, at this early hour, few of the members of the crew actually allowed themselves to sleep. Too many laid awake in their beds, staring up at the ceiling, pondering over thoughts that had long since troubled them.
The ship’s corridors were dimly lit, and the lights along the walkway hummed an eerie tune.
It may have been a fine vessel, but for Kyra, this Firefly looked and felt like a ghost ship.
It made her skin crawl.
She made uneasy steps along the fore passage, heading for the bridge. Her body felt drained and in truth, she would have liked nothing more than a decent night's sleep. But she couldn’t rest. Her troubled mind wouldn’t let her.
She would have liked to have spoken with Safe, perhaps clear the air or at least her mind, but she knew he was on the lower level, in the room next to Needy. And she just couldn’t face that, not right now. And so her feet took her to a place as far away as possible from that man.
The ship creaked and dipped to the side and Kyra felt herself staggering to the right, reminding her of her teenage years and the many nights she had returned home a little worse for wear.
She felt drunk. She felt dazed.
She needed to rest. But there would be no rest this night, not for her.
“…ere” she heard a voice moan.
The sound came from ahead of her, the blue light at the end of the corridor casting a light upon the few steps that led up to the bridge.
Kyra edged closer to the steps, and made her way in.
“He’s here,” a voice mumbled again.
Only one of the lights on the bridge was working, and even that flickered. The rest of the area was cast in long deep shadows.
“Hello?” she asked.
On first appearances, the room looked empty. But as the light flickered, Kyra could make out the form of a bare foot in the far right corner of the room, the rest of the body was obscured by darkness. But as she pressed on, the image became more clear. It was a man, naked, sitting with his back near the wall and rocking back and forth with his arms wrapped around his legs, his head buried in his knees.
“He’s here, he’s here,” the man mumbled over and over again.
“Are you okay?” she asked, crouching down and offering her hand out.
“He’s here, he’s here,” the man said again, before snapping his head up. “HE’S HERE!”
Kyra’s face turned white but she remained relatively calm, despite the man’s face.
It was Needy.
She’d seen him like this before. All too often. The dreams were never the same, but his face was.
His face was deformed and burnt, his skin decayed and blackened; sunken eyes and a deep wound which sliced the lower half of his face, from underneath his nose to the bottom of his chin, in two.
“He’s here,” he muttered again, fluid dripping through the opening under his chin.
Kyra controlled her breathing and stared compassionately at him.
“I’m here too,” she told him in a soft tone. “I can help you.”
She reached out and placed her hand on his leg, before reaching up and placing it on the side of his face.
“That’s why I came back,” she said, her eyes glazing over.
Needy pressed his cheek against her hand, feeling the touch of her skin, before turning it away from her away again, shaking his head. “No. NO!”
He snapped his head up. “You’re DEAD. You’re ALL DEAD.”
Suddenly he threw himself at her, his naked scarred body knocking her to the floor and smacking her head against the grating.
“You’re dead. DEAD!” he exclaimed, wrapping one hand tightly around her neck whilst the other pressed down on her forehead, partially covering her eyes.
“Ne…” she struggled, choking to find breath. And, when that failed her, she reached out her hands and searched for his body, tugging her fingernails deep into his flesh when she found it.
It did her no good.
She felt blood dripping on her face and on her neck. It was his blood, falling through the cuts in his face. And she felt his flesh fall away as she tried to
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A figure casts his long shadow in the hall, standing, waiting, as the door to Kyra’s bedroom opens and she steps up and out.
“Gorram it!” she jumps as she catches sight of the man.
Kyra’s heart pounds and she shakes her head. “What you standing there for?”
Safe waves his hand in an apology, “Sorry, I…”
“What’s wrong?” Kyra says suddenly, as she deduces the possible reasons why the man would be standing there.
“What’s happened? Is Needy…?”
“Nothing’s wrong,” he says quickly, stepping closer to her, again waving his hand as if he could send all of her anxieties away with such a simple gesture. “I just… just wanted to see how you were.”
Her mouth still open, Kyra let out a loud sigh and rolled her eyes. “I’m fine,” she answered in a short manner. Then, shaking her head, she brushed past him and headed down the hall towards the dining area.
“Where you going?” he asked.
“I’m getting a drink,” she answered him, again with an exasperated tone.
He nods his head, although — with her back to him — she didn’t know it. “I’ll join you”
Kyra walked on, seemingly ignoring him, but under her breath she muttered, “It’s your ship.”
***
For a good five minutes, the two shared the space in silence. Kyra rustled up a brew and Safe sat there at the table, his mind deep in thought.
Without asking him, she had made him a drink too and returned to the table with two mugs of dark tea which she placed, one in front of him and the other she carried to the soft chair in the corner, where she herself took a seat.
He thanked her for the drink which she acknowledged with a nod.
“I’m sorry about before,” she said finally. “You just caught me by surprise.”
“It’s fine,” he answered. “Guess I was just lost in thought, didn’t mean to startle you.” Then taking a sip he added. “You can’t sleep either?”
Kyra shook her head, “No, that’s not it.”
“Bad dreams?” he deduced, but she didn’t answer with words. Just with a knowing look, a slight nod, and then back to her tea. “Know how you feel,” he added.
“Listen,” he continued. “I’m sorry if I put you in an awkward position before, bringing him on this ship. You made your views pretty clear but I just needed answers.”
Kyra pressed her lips together as she often did when she thought about answering but didn’t know how. Then, finally she replied, “You got them?”
“Well,” Safe said, standing up with his drink in hand and starting to pace the floor. “We’ve talked. Can’t exactly say I got any answers. At least, none that I was expecting.”
“He tell you what he’s been up to?” she put to him.
Safe shook his head absently. “No… well, yes. He talked quite a bit. Can’t say I understand it really.”
Kyra feigned interest but soon went back to her tea. Clearly there were other things on her mind.
“Talked a lot about this cult, these ones that are committing these murders. Said he allied himself with them to find answers and… well he said a lot. I don’t know what to believe.”
“He say anything about saving the world?” Kyra said, lifting her head up to look at the man. “That killing Milton was his way of preventing an apocalypse?”
Safe froze, not that it was a shock to him — he’d already heard Needy say the same thing, basically — but just hearing it again, from her mouth, just highlighted how crazy it all sounded. This hadn’t been a story he’d read, some fictional tale that he could enjoy as a passive observer, this had been his friend talking. His friend. What kind of man could have done such a thing? The apocalypse—it was the stuff of legends and myths; it was the sort of thing religious leaders threatened their followers with; portentuous sayings uttered by so-called soothsayers. Safe didn’t listen to them, Seth Franklin didn’t listen to them. So why was he finding it so difficult now?
Something had happened to Needy. He certainly wasn’t the same man he’d known.
“What the hell happened to him?” Safe finally said. “What happened after we left you on Santos?”
“Oh it started long before Santos,” she answered. “Long before I even joined you
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She heard them even now. Their screams.
She looked out into the black, the only soul standing on the bridge of the vessel. It was so silent there you could have heard a pin drop. But still, she heard their screams. In the silence, it sounded all the more deafening.
They’d been looking for a cure. It had been that simple.
In all the haste of leaving Santos, Needy had left behind the one thing that had been enabling him to hold it together – the treatment that had dulled his senses, freeing him of the pain that plagued him every waking moment.
He’d been helpless but they couldn’t turn back. Kyra had found some oils which helped soothe him but it was a temporary measure, and so they headed for Aesir, hoping that the new age medicine offered by Asatru Priests would provide the release that they needed so much.
“My name is Mattias,” the man had said, offering his hand. His hair was an unnatural silver whilst his skin was cracked and made golden by the heat of the sun. He told them a story, of a forgotten past and an epiphany that had led him to follow a faith that mankind had, for the most part, left behind on Earth-that-was. It was Kyra’s opinion that he was a strange man, but only because he was so welcoming and offered them shelter and food for no apparent reason, other than the belief that it was “the right thing to do.”
For three weeks they stayed with them, with a tribe of nomads that had settled outside the large Northern Grove, and for three weeks Kyra kept her distance. She didn’t want to settle down – not there, even though every part of her was telling her that it was right, that it was what they needed. The truth was, in her heart she knew, whether it was what they needed or not, it wasn’t what she deserved.
Mattias didn’t offer new age medicines, he offered Needy something much more – the training he needed to be able to control his senses. Before long, they didn’t need any oils or tablets or syringes. Needy could choose to ignore his senses or embrace them. He wasn’t a slave anymore. Finally, his body was enslaved to him.
Mattias had done that for him, and the priest’s tribe of men, women and children had offered aid in any way that they could. They fed them, clothed them, sheltered them; welcomed them like a family ought to have done – more than Kyra and Needy’s own respective families had ever done for their own. But it was to be their downfall. For Mattias only asked for one thing in return. He knew of Needy’s abilities. More than that, he believed he knew why the young man had been granted them. “It was the will of the Gods.” It was “by the grace of Odin.”
"Our people are losing faith," He had told the two of them privately. "They grow tired in the face of adversity. They grow tired of waiting. But you… you’re the sign they’ve been waiting for. Please, show them your face. Prove to them that their faith has not been in vain. Do this for me."
For Mattias it was a simple request, and for Needy too. Sacrifice. It was just an act. A show. "For the greater good," so the saying went. He would not come to any harm, and afterwards, both he and Kyra could choose what to do. To stay and help lead the people, or to go, knowing that they’ve helped fifty or so souls to find their purpose once more.
It was his decision, even though she didn’t like the prospect one bit and deep down she already knew what his answer would be. She thought she knew because Needy had always acted on the behalf of others, he’d always given selflessly of himself. But the truth was she knew that he would say yes because, even if she couldn’t admit it to herself, he had changed, and this wasn’t about helping others, it was about achieving glory for himself.
“Brothers, Sisters. These are tumultuous times…” Mattias had said on that eventful night, clothed in the ceremonial white gown as he stood by the altar. The people listened intently whilst Needy had stood in the shadows, wearing similar garb, waiting to be beckoned.
Mattias talked of
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Aesir, The Himinbjorg System. Two years ago.
They had thought it trickery - the crowds. Mattias had wanted to inspire faith but the time for that had come and gone. They just saw parlour tricks. But as for Mattias himself he saw something else. He’d believed in Needy, in his abilities but he had mistook them for something else. He’d believed Needy had been sent to them to help bring the people back to the fold. But he was wrong. Now, with Needy’s blood being poured out on the ground, it was as if he’d seen the truth for what it was - Needy wasn’t a god, he was just a man, an unfortunate soul with a remarkable ability.
Or maybe not.
Maybe Mattias saw something else. Maybe he’d experienced that “Eye of Truth” that so many of his faith had spoken of, but few had ever experienced for themselves. Illumination. The epiphany that all of a sudden made everything else clear. Whatever it was Mattias saw that day was not what he’d expected, that much was clear. His eyes, once so filled with wonder, now sunk and his complexion grew pale. He was once a man filled with faith, but now his heart was filled with fear.
It had all happened so quickly. Kyra had tried to shut herself off, she'd watched “the show” with a feigned interest whilst her mind tried to dwell on other things. She had once hoped that they could have stayed there, but events had seen to it that they would no longer be welcome after this night. She hadn’t realised what was happening before her eyes before it was too late.
The crowds cried fowl as Mattias backed away from the bloody sight of Needy standing there naked, the deep tear across the man’s throat which had poured his blood and would, if it had been any deeper, sliced the man’s head right off was now nothing more than a scar. Still, the blood that had ran down his chest, across his stomach and down his legs was still fresh and glimmered in the nightsky.
As Kyra made her way through the crowd she could see Mattias grip hold of the knife once more and run it through Needy’s chest, directly to the heart. Kyra screamed out and threw herself forward, pushing the crowd aside without consideration and launched herself in defense of her lover, pulling Mattias back until he crashed to the floor as she herself ran to Needy’s side.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” She shouted in exclamation at the dumbfounded priest.
“Are you okay?” she said softly to her man, holding her hand out towards the knife still embedded in his chest, but flinching before she could bring herself to touch it.
“I’m okay,” Needy replied absently, staring blankly at the man that cowered before them.
The crowds own jeers had been silenced, shocked by the apparent authenticity of the scene before them. She’d heard some of them whisper exclaims of "By Odin" and "Weiderganger!"
Slowly, Kyra brought herself to the knife and, with hesitation, took it in her hand and slowly started to withdraw it. Needy placed his own hand on hers and helped her to remove it, blood pouring out from the hole that it left.
Mattias had started to mutter words of a prayer to himself that only he, and perhaps the gods, could hear.
Leaving the knife in Needy’s hand, she moved to where his robe had been discarded and draped it over him, trying to give him some of his dignity back.
“We need to go,” Kyra said as the crowd continued to mutter, some growing louder as their talk became less filled with doubt and more fearful reverence.
Choosing to ignore Kyra's words, however, Needy stepped forward, moving towards Mattias who simply laid there looking up at them, paralysed.
“I see you now,” the man mumbled to Needy, standing over him in judgment.
“You see nothing,” the sacrificial man answered. “Only that which you want to believe.”
Kyra stood aimlessly, watching the crowd as they watched the two men, equally astounded and terrified.
If only her attention had been on where it ought to have been...
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Kurren and four of his crew made their way to a room out of earshot from the experiments being done to
Soul. The sounds were inhuman and nearly impossible to get away from, but in the room they found Soul’s
cries were muffled. One of Kurren’s crew placed a small device on the table there and flipped a switch.
“Spotless?” Kurren asked.
“Clean enough.”
“So what will they get, Li?” Kurren pressed.
“If they have any cameras and microphones they‘ll get nothing but blurred images and white noise.” Li
replied.
“Good man, let’s begin ” Kurren took a seat from the scattered chairs in the room and gestured his crew to
do the same. Kurren turned to Nate Gershun and asked “What did we find out about this group?” Nate took in
a breath before responding, “Not a lot. The Chapter is mentioned in only the quietest of whispers. There is
virtually nothing about them on the cortex. They‘re a step above us ghosts, they are damn near mythical.”
Kurren grimaced. Nate was one of the top information snoops in the underworld and for him to have any level
of difficulty spoke of the sophistication of the group that now, in essence, held them.
“Not very encouraging.” Nate blanched at the remark and unconsciously rubbed the stub where his right foot,
that Kurren himself had severed, had been. It was a promise of misery to come if he ever failed.
Kurren turned his attention to another crew member. “Paul, any word back from our contacts at all?”
“None whatsoever. I get nothin‘ but static.”
Unlike Nate, Paul wasn’t working for Kurren under physical duress. He had a debt owed to Kurren that he was
all to eager to pay off. “Everything I try gets thrown back at me. I answered a wave that I though was a
reply transmission only to find out it was my initial contact attempt. These guys have a system set up to
block any transmission but their own.”
Kurren turned back to Nate. “Nate, you said virtually nothing. That means you did find something,
right?”
Nate gladly accepted the rope that could pull him out of the hole he dug. “Yes! Though I admit it isn‘t
much. It has something to do with the bounty we captured.”
Kurren raised his eyebrows. “Really? What is it?”
“A project name was all I could get, Fenrir”
“Fenrir? The hell is that?” Paul blurted.
“I really couldn‘t tell you. That was all there was regarding The Chapter and Soul .” Nate shrugged.
“I can find out.” Everyone looked to Dawei. “Get me to a local Cortex terminal and I can find what we need
in their systems.”
“It wouldn‘t take them long to find out who is hacking their files Dawei.” Li sounded off. “If Paul can get
me some access codes it won‘t be a problem for us.” Dawei countered, of all of them only Li and Dawei were
not the victims of coercion. Dawei was slated to be killed after he was turned in by Jubal Early but
Kurren intercepted them at an interstellar bar. After Kurren fought Jubal for custody of Dawei, Li was more
than happy to help a friend of a friend.
“Sounds like a plan.” Kurren said, “Li, go with Dawei and find a terminal. Paul, go see if you can make
some new friends preferably local. Nate, keep digging. Try to find their tracks on the cortex. If we can‘t
find out any information about them through the Cortex we can at least piece together what they are from
where they‘ve been. Meanwhile, I need to keep up appearances and check in on the progress with Soul.”
Their meeting all but adjorned Li turned off the jammer and headed out with Dawei.
“Kurren!” Dawei shouted. The screams had ceased and that only meant one thing.
“I know. We need to move, and fast. I don‘t know how much time we have here. Keep in constant contact. GO!”
Kurren walked as calm as he could to the testing grounds. Is today the day it will end? He wondered. After
several minutes, he finally reached the main observation room. He was met with cries of jubilation from the
researchers. “What is your status!” Kurren’s shout sobered the room. A researcher looked up at Kurren
through opaque googles
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“You boys wanted a piece of him, right? Here‘s your chance.” Kurren stalled. The crew, his cannon fodder,
took the bait and charged. Soul, or rather Subject 52739, cut through them effortlessly. He shoved his
fist into one man and pulled out his heart. Three others fell to Subject 52739 when he passed his left hand
through their heads. The remaining five backed away and fired their pistols, unloading their clips.
Subject 52739 took every hit, never once moving. When the shooting ended, he took the crude sword in hand
and charged. One man went down with a deep cut to his stomach, a second was run through with the blade. The
third man attempted to pistol whip Subject 52739 but his hand passed through harmlessly, not so when
Subject 52739 answered the blow with a slash to the throat.
Kurren brandished two knives when the final two crew fell to Subject 52739’s blade. “This certainly got
interesting quick.” Kurren muttered. He acted first, swiping at the legs then following up with a slash to
the throat and a stab to the chest. Subject 52739 jumped over the low attack, phased through the throat
slash and blocked the stab with his sword. Subject 52739 threw out his own attack with two downward
slashes and a swipe at Kurren’s middle. Kurren blocked the first two blows and ducked under the third. He
threw out a kick which passed through Subject 52739’s knee. Subject 52739 returned with a kick of his own
that caught Kurren in the chest. Kurren rolled with the attack, using it to provide some distance. He
stopped in a crouch near an armed guard. Kurren sprang up with an uppercut to the guard and stripped him of
the stun rifle. Kurren fired two quick blasts at Subject 52739. The first blast went through the man, but
he did stumble. The second blast put him on his back. Kurren took the opportunity to escape the room.
He made contact with remaining crew. “Li, Dawei, Paul, Nate its time to go. Meet me at the Hangar bay.”
“But sir, we don‘t have the information yet.” Dawei protested.
“We are out of time! Their little experiment is over and it is currently aimed at us! Now move.”
Klaxons blared and armed personnel began spilling into the hallways. Kurren dropped into a slide, foot
extended, and tripped one of the guards. He grabbed the guard by the face and slammed the guard’s head into
the floor, hard. He took the guard’s semi-auto pistol and continued on his way taking down any guard still
in his way.
Kurren was two sectors away from the hanger when Subject 52739 caught up to him. A fist rocketed out from a
wall and connected with Kurren’s jaw sending him sprawling. “You have got to be kidding me.” Kurren said as
he got to one knee. He brought up the pistol only to have it kicked out of his hand. He rolled backwards
avoiding another kick and came up wielding two knives. “You are quite the monster now aren’t you?” Kurren
said with a grin. Subject 52739 said nothing, he only closed the gap with intent. Kurren struck first
again. He started with a crescent kick, followed by alternating thrusts at the arms, chest and head.
Subject 52739 managed to avoid all the attacks save for one that cut his right arm. Kurren pressed in
another stab followed by a left slash to the middle. Subject 52739 sidestepped the stab, caught Kurren’s
left arm at the wrist and brought his elbow down on the forearm forcing Kurren to drop the knife. Kurren
brought up the knife in his right hand to stab Subject 52739 in the back but took an elbow to the face
instead. Subject 52739 followed up by spinning Kurren around and putting his left arm in a hammerlock.
Kurren answered swiftly with three stabs from his free hand forcing Subject 52739 to let go. Kurren put
away the knife he had left and brought up the Stun rifle but Subject 52739 phased into the wall. Kurren
paused for a few moments to see if Subject 52739 would resurface then continued on his way.
Kurren finally made it to the hangar bay. His crew were under fire while trying to hijack a Bernard class
ship. Kurren fir
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The harsh lights in the med bay forced Kurren’s slow opening eyes to clench shut. He groaned his displeasure and shielded his eyes from further discomfort. “He‘s waking up! Boss, how do you feel?” Kurren recognized Dawei’s voice. “Like I was on the wrong side of Death‘s favor.” Footsteps announced more people entering the room. Li approached Kurren’s bedside, “What is the last thing you remember?”
“I remember getting cut in the leg and. . . Did someone throw an explosive?”
“Guilty.” Paul answered, “In my defense, it was a concussive. So you may have some ringing in the ears but nothing permanent.”
Kurren sat up, slowly, and rubbed his face of sleep. “How long have I been out?”
“Better part of two days.” Paul said.
Kurren sighed, “Tell me you haven‘t spent that time watching over me.”
Paul put on a show of being hurt. “Of course not. We have been hard at work. Besides making sure you recovered we‘ve been trying to reach our old contacts and look into the data Dawei managed to snag before our hasty exit.” Kurren motioned for Paul to continue. “Ok, good news. We can reach our old contacts again. But as soon as I asked about The Chapter they cut their ties with us. I don‘t need to tell you how bad that looks. Those were some of the best suppliers we had it is going to take me a while to get new ones that can meet their standards.” Kurren shook his head and looked to Dawei. “What did you find?”
“I don‘t have anything, yet. What little I could grab was encrypted. I‘m working on deciphering it now.” Kurren nodded, finding the answer acceptable, and said “All right. New subject: What do we know about this ship we stole?” Paul became very excited as he said “It‘s a gorram floating pair of eyes and ears! The Chapter modified this to be a surveillance craft. It can monitor waves, camera feeds, and cortex activity.”
“It‘s also the only reason I have a chance to decrypt the data we stole. It still has whatever their current setup is in regards to security.” Dawei interrupted. Li picked up on the cue from Dawei and said “Speaking of security. This ship does have one issue we are trying to take care of.” Kurren raised an eyebrow as he replied, “How serious?”
“When we stopped at a way-station to refuel Nate noticed an encrypted signal emitting from the ship. Since we didn‘t know what it was sending we left the station. Nate noticed it cut the signal while in flight. So Nate, Dawei and I are working to resolve it before we reach our next stop.”
“What is our next stop, Li?”
“The Promenade Station.”
“Ugh, not those spacer nuts.” Paul complained. “Damn space gypsies can‘t be trusted.”
“They can provide better medical attention for Kurren and those space gypsies have the equipment to deal with our current security issues if we aren‘t able to deal with it before we get there.”
Paul opened his mouth to object but Kurren cut him off “Sounds like a solid plan. We‘ll run with it for now. When we get there, Paul, I want you to play nice. We need new friends and these folks might be able to be just that, or at least point us in the proper direction.” Paul grimaced and left mumbling about his distrust for spacers.
Promenade station was a repurposed Independent Dreadnought-class carrier. It was meant to be the Independent’s answer to the Crete-class carrier. It was built with less hangers in order to make room for more defensive guns and missile armaments so it could hold its own if needed. But lack of sufficient funding and the surprising end to the Unification war saw no more than five hundred made. Most of the Dreadnoughts were surrendered to the Alliance who dismantled the starships in favor of their own slightly larger and more efficient carriers. The remainder were either destroyed during the war or left in hidden hangers should there ever be a renewed effort against the Alliance. The Spacers stumbled upon one such cache. After an awful lot of trial and error they repaired one into working condition and by converting many of the hangers meant for fighters and short distance craft into hydroponic farm
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The loud clunk of the door being unlocked alerted Needy to the arrival of visitors.
It had been a few hours since Kyra’s visit, but even so it only felt like minutes since his last interrogation. He knew who the next interviewer would be even before she stepped into the room.
Julie stood there looking down upon him, her arms folded; her face stoic.
“You didn’t come on your own…” Needy began to speak, just as Safe appeared from behind the door and locked it behind him.
“Didn’t trust me alone with her?” he asked the captain, before rephrasing. “Or didn’t trust her with me?”
“We need to talk,” Julie butted in, ignoring his comment, just as the captain did.
“Yeah, I figured,” Needy retorted.
Julie bit her lip. “You’re pretty nonplussed considering what’s going on.”
“I’m sorry, would you feel more comfortable if I was screaming to be let out of these chains?” Needy shifted position so that he was sitting cross-legged. “I’m not causing a fuss because I know this is what I deserve. If times weren’t so urgent, I wouldn’t have bothered coming to Albion, I would have gone back home, surrendered myself to the authorities, maybe give myself the opportunity to say goodbye to my family. Of course, if I’d done that… maybe Safe and the others wouldn’t have got to you and Kyra in time.”
“This is about my father,” Julie said, ignoring Needy’s rambling dialogue. “After what your friends told me what you did, you think I give a damn about your penance?”
Needy sighed. “We’ve all got something to atone for.”
“Some more than others,” Julie retorted. “Now tell me about my father.”
Needy shook his head. Why should he talk to her? She and her family had caused nothing but grief for the crew, and now she wanted to shift the blame on them again. Still, he couldn’t help himself. “He’s dead.”
Julie tensed up. She wanted to hit him, to kick him. Hell, giving him a piece of her mind would have been satisfying another, but she’d given her word to Safe. She wouldn’t touch him, she remain calm. She’d ask her questions and leave.
Maintaining her composure she bit the air, “Why?”
He had a reply for her, it was the sort of reply the old him would have given, especially to someone he didn’t like. But in truth she was just hurting, answering her with a twisted joke would have done him no favours. Time was urgent and he needed to convince the crew that he’d changed, that he was someone that they could trust. And so he gave the only reply that he could: The truth.
“Because he rattled cages. Because he became a threat”
“To who - these Norsemen?” she asked, Safe having already filled her in on what Needy had told him. “What does my father have to do with them?”
“No, that’s just what they want you to think,” Needy explained. “You think it’s that simple? That all these killings are being done by one group – find them and we solve the whole gorram mystery? No, You, me, all of us, we’re involved in something much bigger than some cult. The Norsemen have their eyes set on a goal, and as far as they’re concerned some need to be sacrificed, and some need to be controlled. The captain’s friend, Soul. He’s one we need to be wary of. He’s the one they’re looking for. Your father? Your father had nothing to do with this. But he’d made enemies. He stuck his nose in. And someone finally had enough. Is it any surprise that there’s inconsistences between his death and the others? Someone wanted to make it look like he was just another victim of the cult and their schemes. A public murder meant to incite the people, to have them point fingers.”
“Who would do that?” Julie said, still struggling to grasp it all.
“Someone with power - a military group; maybe even the parliament itself. It wouldn’t be the first time. Either way, they’d be a big fish to catch, with plausible deniability. What you need is evidence.”
“What I need is justice,” Julie said, her voice breaking
“And you’ll get it. But you won’t get it by going after them, even if you did know who THEY are.”
“I could find out what my father was working
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