Star Runners: Mission Wraith (#3) (2 page)

Folding his arms across his chest, Gree turned his head to the side and walked around the engines. No matter who you were or where you were from, you had to be impressed with this technology. It was no wonder the Legion wanted him to get a look at the ship. In a couple years, this spacecraft could render the Zahlian Navy invincible.
 

He picked up a tablet and started reading his assignments for the day. Zahlian command wanted him to begin tests for engine optimization. They planned on installing the advanced engines in … two months? No, that couldn’t be possible. This project had barely advanced beyond the preliminary stages, right?
 

Two attendants moved a long line of diagnostic equipment in front of his station on shiny metal carts. The equipment moved out of his view, revealing a large object in the distance.
 

Gree’s jaw dropped, the tablet slowly lowering to his side. In the center of the room, parked like it would blast through the ceiling at any moment, was the
Wraith
.

It couldn’t be. He stepped forward, drawn to the spacecraft as if it had a magnetic pull. The ship’s stabilizers looked like the fins of a sea creature. He shook his head, studying the smooth black hull of the spacecraft and the curved arching nose coming together in the shape of a horseshoe crab. Up until that moment, Legion intelligence had scarcely believed the rumor of an advanced Zahlian Interceptor codenamed
Wraith
. If he could trust the reports, this interceptor could fly completely undetected by sensors, avoiding any missile lock, and operate unaffected by stunners or system disruptors of any kind. A fighter that could do that would tilt the balance in the Zahlian-Legion Cold War. With the work his team had completed on the engine enhancements, the stealth ship would also become the fastest in the galaxy.
 

“Dr. Gree, isn’t it?”
 

Gree blinked and turned slightly, facing the younger engineer. “Yes?”

“Sir, aren’t we supposed to begin working on the engines?”

“Right,” he said, turning back to the
Wraith
. “We are. I just, well, I hadn’t seen her up close.”

“No one has.” The engineer stepped next to Gree. From the smooth skin around his eyes, Gree gathered his fellow engineer had to be ten years younger, or he had received some genetic enhancement— possible on a world like Claria. “She’s beautiful.”
 

Gree blinked, appearing to bring himself back to the task at hand but hoping his eye implant focused and captured a clear shot of the first known images of the
Wraith
. “We had better get to work, Doctor.”

“I’m Sarta Bren, but everyone calls me ‘Popper.’”

Gree nodded, his eyes still on the
Wraith
looming at the center of the room like a silent sentinel. He opened up the tablet to access his files on the engine specifications, finally pulling his gaze away from the engineering perfection of the
Wraith
.
 

“Okay, Dr. Bren,” he said, “we need to start by testing if our engine can endure the modifications we made last week.”

“Right.” Bren’s eyes widened, and he turned back to the engines.

Gree stopped listening. Instead, he focused on the feeling of dread penetrating his stomach. The Zahlian Empire would kill to acquire the images he just recorded into his implant. He had actual proof the theories of an advanced Zahlian Interceptor were true.
 

He needed to get to the topside after his shift away from the building’s jamming and send the video off world before it was too late.

*****

Shift ended. The lights in the workroom turned off, ending with the spotlight on the
Wraith
. Gree stared at the ship for a moment longer. Smaller than the Legion’s Trident, the interceptor design looked less militaristic and more organic, almost as if the Zahlian craft had been born, not created. Without the sharp angles of most Legion craft, the interceptor had a smoothness to its design. The surface of the hull glistened like freshly polished marble, the remaining light in the room rippling on the craft’s surface like a pond in the moonlight.
 

Gree sat his tablet next to the engines and, even though his recording device filled hours ago, took in one last look of the
Wraith
. He needed to get this information back to the Legion.
 

He placed his tablet back on his workstation and filed out with the other engineers. Bren was babbling something about his evening plans when Gree came back to the conversation.

“I’m sorry,” he said, “what’s that now? I zoned out for a second there.”

Bren snorted. “Glad you find me so interesting. Anyway, some people I know wanted to go to the Jouncy game later tonight, but I’m so over sports. Seriously, what’s the point? You know? Your team wins, or they lose—your life is the same the next day, right?”

Gree said nothing.

Bren continued his rant on the elevator ride, launching into a tirade over a guy he knew who lost next month’s rent betting on a game.
 

Ula rode in silence at the front of the elevator, her arms behind her back. Gree stared at the back of her head, noticing the wisps of blond hair stretching out from the rest like golden spider webs. He didn’t know much about her side of the project, but he knew it was her brilliance that allowed the
Wraith
to remain invisible from sensors. Her advancements and dedication would serve the project well.
 

And she was beautiful. Shorter than him and fit, he admitted to himself a long time ago that she was the best part of the elevator ride. Perhaps in another place and time, something could have … instead, he had to listen to Bren talking about the upcoming tournament he claimed not to care about, but couldn’t stop discussing.
 

They retrieved their personal belongings, including Gree’s bag with the crucial bit of technology, from the locker room and changed back into the civilian clothes they had worn when they arrived sixteen hours ago. With the schedule requiring them to return in six hours, Gree knew he had limited time to launch his remote whisper carrying the video of the
Wraith
into space, away from the jamming, and back to his Legion contacts.
 

Wearing his light blue shirt and dark pants, he passed through the locker room door. It felt better to be out of the lab coat. He glanced at his watch.
 

He stopped, nearly crashing into Ula standing near the door of the locker room.

“Oh, I am sorry,” she said, her voice soft. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

Gree adjusted his shirt. “Not at all. I was just leaving.”
 

“Dr. Gree,” she said, tilting her head to the side. “Mind if I call you Fadre?”

Gree swallowed. “Sure.”
 

“You asked me a few weeks ago if I would like to go for a drink after work.” She stared meekly at the floor.
 
“I feel I owe you an apology.”

Shifting his weight, he shook his head and stepped through the door. “No apology needed. I understand not mixing business with pleasure. I really should be—”

Pushing a strand of her blonde hair over her right ear, Ula held her arm in front of him. “I’m trying to say I was interested. I shouldn’t have shot you down that day.” She fiddled with her hands. “I really need to talk to someone. I’m in some trouble and, well, I don’t really know who to talk to.”

The clock was ticking. He needed to send the images stored in his implant. But avoiding a coworker might seem suspicious, and he didn’t need any reason to draw attention to himself.
 

“Okay, Ula,” he said, trying to sound like he truly cared. “Where would you like to go?”

Her eyes widened. “There’s a bar here in this installation. Street side, though. What do you think?”

“I think it sounds great.” He raised his hand toward the door. “Lead the way.”
 

Ula walked through the brightly lit corridors of the Zahlian research facility. She nodded as they passed other engineers and scientists still wearing black lab coats. Zahlian Marine guards stood at two doors they passed, their cold stares sending a shiver through his core.
 

If they only knew what I had stored in my implant.
 

Shaking away thoughts of capture and torture, Gree feigned a pleasant smile as he passed two Marines and followed Ula into the elevator. She grinned sheepishly, pressing an elevator button. The door pinged and started to slide shut.
 

“Hold it! Please!” a voice yelled down the corridor.
 

Gree looked up. Dr. Bren, or Popper, sprinted down the hall, his skin glistening with sweat. He burst into the elevator like a gust of the wind in a storm, collapsing against the wall.
 

“Thanks!” He gasped for air. “I didn’t want to have to wait another twenty minutes for the next elevator, and I’m ready to get out of here.”

“No problem,” Ula said in a soft voice, “what floor?”

Bren glanced at both of them. “Am I interrupting something?”

Ula shook her head sharply.
 
“Of course not.”

Bren sighed, appearing relieved. “I’m heading topside.”

“Very well.”

Ula pressed the button, and the doors slid shut. After a brief moment, the elevator deep inside Claria accelerated, traveling away from the hidden research station. Gree stared at the levels changing on the LED display above the door, lost in thought.
 

So the Legion intelligence was right to send him here. Rumors of the Zahlian war faction were true. More than that, the war faction had created an advanced prototype fighter with potentially deadly consequences to the Legion fleet. From what Gree knew of the Legion’s naval abilities, the
Wraith
would be able to render the Trident obsolete. Gree had the only evidence this prototype fighter existed. He had to send this information.

Gree sighed, bouncing on his heels. Couldn’t this elevator move faster?
 

He closed his eyes. He rolled his head around on his neck, relished in the feeling of release.
 

A blunt force struck his nose.
 

His vision blurred. Gree tumbled back against the wall. He slid down the wall to the floor, his nose gushing. His eyes filled with water. He brought his hands to his face, confused as to what just happen. From his back, he saw Ula attacking Bren. Her body spun, her hands and feet pummeling the doctor into the wall. She grabbed the back of his head and smashed it against the door. At the same time, she punched the emergency stop on the elevator. The lights shifted to a blood red. The elevator came to an abrupt stop.
 

Shaking his head, Gree sat up from his back. Before he knew it, Ula grabbed him by the collar and yanked him to his feet. She pulled what looked like a spray bottle from her bag, launching a concentrated neon yellow mist into two corners of the elevator. The walls dripped with a bright mix of red and vibrant yellow.

Gree glanced down at Bren’s crumpled body; still and bloodied.
 

She pulled Gree close, so close he felt the heat of her breath on his face as she spoke.
 

“They know,” she hissed.
 

A wave of ice shot through his chest. “What do—”

“Don’t,” she said, placing her finger over his mouth. She glanced down at Bren. “He came here to kill you. It took them some time to trace the signal, but they detected your implant when you activated it near the ship.”

“I don’t know—”

“You’re wasting time!” she snapped. She jumped up, grabbing a handle on the ceiling. When she dropped, the elevator’s service hatch opened, and a portion of a ladder descended. “I’ve disabled the cameras, but we need to move. Now!”

Gree stared at her, his eyes wide. His heart thumped.

“I understand,” he said, stepping up and pulling the ladder to the floor. He slipped his bag around his back. “What’s the plan?”

“It won’t take them long to override the emergency stop. We need to switch elevators and head to the top of this building.”
 

“All the way to the top?” he asked, reaching the hatch and turning around to Ula.
 

“You have the launcher to take your images off world, yes?” She gestured at the ceiling. “Away from this jamming?”

Gree nodded, helping her through the hatch, his mind racing at the information this woman knew about his mission. “How do you know all this? Who are you?”

“I’m your backup,” she said, her eyes searching the elevator tube. She peered over the edge. “One’s coming. Get ready to jump.”

Gree blinked. “Are you crazy?”

She stared at him, her black eyes cold. “You’d rather wait for the Zahlian Marines to find you?”

Gree shook his head. He leaned over to peer down the elevator shaft, saw another car coming. “What’s our exit strategy?”

“There is none.”
 

Gree shot her a glance, but Ula didn’t look back. He opened his mouth to object but realized she was right. Whatever his mission had been, whatever he had hoped to accomplish, had ended the moment Bren attacked him.

The elevator car neared, moving faster than he thought they could handle.
 

“Maybe we should—”

“Jump!”
 

They leaped across the elevator shaft onto the car. The collision with the roof of the elevator car shocked him, the metal crashing against their skin. He shook his head. His vision darkened as he rolled over on his back. The wind touched his face as the car accelerated upward. Lights played across the roof as they passed the building’s levels.
 

“Are you okay?” Ula asked.
 

Gree looked at her, noticed a vicious gash above her left eye spilling blood down her cheek. “Are you?”

She touched her face. “Yeah.”

Gree probed his forehead, felt a lump growing courtesy of the metal roof.
 

Ula surveyed her surroundings, leaning over the edge of the elevator. “I don’t think Zahl intelligence knew about me, but I knew they had you when Bren charged into our elevator.”