Read Starship Desolation Online
Authors: Tripp Ellis
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Action & Adventure, #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Mystery, #Thriller & Suspense, #War & Military, #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Science Fiction, #Alien Invasion, #Colonization, #Exploration, #Galactic Empire, #Genetic Engineering, #Military, #Space Marine, #Thriller, #Metaphysical & Visionary, #Space Fleet, #Space Exploration
S
trong tentacles pulled
Walker closer to the rows of serrated teeth. A razor sharp shredding machine. Walker’s arms were wrapped up tight. It felt like a boa constrictor squeezing his torso. He had no control.
He was well below the surface. Only the narrow beam of the flashlight on the shore lit the cavern. This creature was pulling him into the dark depths of the water. Soon he would reach his breakpoint—the point where your body will involuntarily gasp for breath. A last, dying attempt for oxygen.
Reapers went through extensive underwater training. A two minute breath hold was required at the Advance Special Warfare School. But that was nothing. Walker could easily do 3 times that, under normal circumstances. But this was anything but normal. When the creature had pulled him into the water, Walker didn’t have a full breath. There was no way he could hold his breath for even two minutes with an empty set of lungs.
As Walker was pulled toward the thing’s meat grinder of a mouth, he kicked the monster right between its ugly eyes. The blow stunned the slimy bastard, momentarily. Its tentacles went slack. Walker wrenched an arm free and grabbed his tactical sword. He pulled it from its scabbard and hacked the rubbery tentacles in half, freeing his other arm. Then he severed the tentacles that gripped his legs. Black, inky blood filled the water.
More tentacles curled around his legs, pulling Walker closer to the creature’s deadly mouth. Walker desperately needed air, but the thing was dragging him deeper. Another foot, and Walker was going to feel the sting of this monster’s teeth.
As he drew close, Walker jammed his blade right between the monster’s eyes. It squirmed and flailed. Tentacles waived and twisted. It let out a hideous screech. Then the thing retreated into the deep in the blink of an eye.
Walker sheathed the blade, then he pulled and kicked toward the surface. His lungs burned. His heart was pounding. His arms felt like rubber, worn out from the struggle. His vision was beginning to fade. He was so close, but the surface seemed so far away. He could hear Bailey barking, and it sounded like a distant dream.
He kept pulling toward the surface. Toward that narrow beam of light. He finally broke through the surface and gasped for air. He swam to shore and pulled himself out of the water. His chest heaved for breath. Air never tasted so good.
Bailey was still barking at the monster lurking in the deep. Walker scooped him up and carried him back a safe distance. There was no telling if that thing would come back. Hopefully it was dying at the bottom of the pond, but Walker couldn’t be sure. He would have to be extremely cautious the next time he needed to get water from this hole. But right now, it was the only source of water they had.
Walker deflated. The flashlight was still resting at the edge of the water. He let out a deep exhale. He didn’t want to go anywhere near the water. Not today. He had enough of slimy water monsters. He had enough of things trying to eat him. But that flashlight was too valuable to leave. Like the shuttle, it had a power supply that would last for the next 20 years. There really wasn’t much difference between it and the shuttle’s power supply. Same technology—different voltage circuits. He had to hand it to the Saarkturians—they had better technology, all the way around.
Walker set Bailey down. “Stay here. That’s an order, Sergeant.”
Bailey whined.
Walker crept toward the edge of the water. It was still rippling and lapping against the shore from all of the commotion. The sound echoed off the cavern walls. Walker knelt down and snatched the flashlight, keeping his distance from the water. His legs were ready to spring away at the slightest hint of the monster. Pools of its inky blood had risen to the surface. He shined the light deep into the water, but didn’t see a trace of the slimy creature.
He stepped back from the water’s edge and shined the flashlight across the cavern. It looked like it continued on, but he was in no mood to further explore it today. He didn’t even want to know what lurked deeper in this cave. But his imagination couldn’t help but run wild.
He led Bailey up to the front part of the cave near the entrance. Walker peeled off his armor, and underclothes, and set them near the edge of the cave. It didn’t take long in the extreme heat to dry.
He waited out the scorching midday sun, then went looking for firewood. He returned with enough wood for the night. He started a fire and grilled up some sabertooth. He and Bailey ate like kings again. After the day they had been through, they deserved it.
The cave seemed to be ideal. The rock formations at the entrance kept the wind out of the cavern. The fire kept the front portion of the cave comfortably warm at night. It was elevated and provided a good view of the canyon. There was a fair amount of wildlife in the canyon to hunt. It seemed like a sustainable shelter. Walker felt like he and Bailey had found their new home, for the time being.
He grilled up another section of meat and tossed it to Bailey. The little guy devoured it. It seemed like he could eat twice his weight.
Walker watched him with a smile. “Don’t you have any family, Bailey?”
Bailey looked up at him and tilted his head. Then went back to his meat.
“How did you end up out here, all alone?”
Bailey’s big eyes looked at him again for a moment.
“I know you didn’t fall out of the sky, like I did.”
Bailey rushed over to Walker and licked his face.
Walker chuckled. “I guess we’re family now, huh, Sergeant?”
Bailey barked.
Walker pet Bailey and scratched his belly, just the way Bailey liked it.
Walker smiled. There could be worse things, he thought. He could be stuck on this planet all alone. At least he had Bailey to keep him company.
After he had finished his meal, Walker stood up and walked to the mouth of the cave. He looked up at the stars. It was a crystal-clear night. It seemed like you could see all the way across the galaxy. Somewhere out there, one of those specks of light was the sun that New Earth circled around. He wondered if he would ever see it again.
His mind drifted to Captain Slade. Her supple skin. Her luscious curves. Her no bullshit personality. A woman like that could give a man hope. And that’s what Walker clung to. If he ever got off this rock, he was going to find her, and take her to the Zeta Hydrus nebula, and finish what they had started.
The thought made him smile, and gave him something to dream about. But his dream was interrupted. A high pitched whine woke him in the middle of the night.
S
lade’s vision was blurred
, and her jaw hurt like hell. She spit out a piece of a chipped tooth. It bounced across the concrete, along with her pinkish saliva, tainted with blood.
She saw Tiny charging at her—a blurry figure, like an ox. She sprung to her feet and dodged just in time to miss his next devastating blow.
He wasn’t expecting her to get up so fast. He was expecting her to dodge like she did. His fist, like a wrecking ball, narrowly missed her face. The breeze fluttered her hair. Tiny had put all of his weight into the swing. When he missed, the momentum carried him forward, and he fell to the ground.
Slade reeled back and kicked him with everything she had—right in the groin. You could hear a collective “Ew,” among the crowd. The men instinctually grabbed at their own gonads in sympathy.
Slade leapt into the air and did an elbow drop on Tiny, smashing his head against the concrete. Blood spattered from his nose and lips. His front teeth shattered against the concrete.
But that didn’t keep him down. The big, toothless son-of-a-bitch pushed off the ground.
Slade kicked him in the head, hard. His head rocked back a few inches. That was it. A kick that hard should have split his head open. It would have knocked the average man unconscious. He should have had brain damage. Instead, he was just pissed off. He glared at Slade and stood up.
He spit blood onto the concrete and charged her. 400 pounds of pissed off meat, barreling toward her.
Slade dodged, but Tiny swung a colossal blow that connected with her chest. The punch lifted her from her feet and flung her back. She heard a few ribs crack. Slade crashed into a table of inmates and rolled off of them, back onto her feet.
Tiny swung again.
Slade ducked and dodged underneath and spun around behind him. She gasped for air. Every breath ached.
The crowd began to chant:
Tiny, Tiny, Tiny
…
This guy was unbeatable. He just kept coming. He charged at her again, and swung a wide hook.
Slade ducked and tripped him as he passed. She pounced on him, getting him in a chokehold from behind. Tiny punched at her, bloodying her face. But she held on tight. This was it. If she let go she was dead.
After a few moments, Tiny passed out.
She could kill him now. Or, at least, paralyze him. It would be an easy snap of the neck. She thought about it long and hard. The best defense was a good offense. If she snapped his neck, she’d establish her dominance. Nobody would come at her again.
Slade had killed before on the battlefield. But that was the enemy. She had never killed in cold blood. And she wasn’t going to start now.
She loosened her arm from Tiny’s neck.
The crowd was dead silent.
Slade stood up and wiped the blood from her face. She spit blood onto the concrete and surveyed the crowd with weary eyes.
They all stared at her, slack-jawed. Never in a million years did they think a woman would take down Tiny.
Slade grabbed his ankle and lifted it high in the air. Then she kicked his knee sideways with all her might. It bent 90 degrees in the wrong way. Muscles and tendons and ligaments snapped. You could hear it clear across the cafeteria. She strolled around Tiny’s body and lifted his other ankle. With a massive crunch, she snapped the other knee.
Tiny would never walk in the same way again. He certainly wouldn’t be a threat anymore. It was enough of a demonstration to keep anyone from thinking she was weak. There was a valid argument that it was even more cruel than killing Tiny. He’d have to spend the rest of his life in this prison with the embarrassment of the loss to Slade. But then again, nobody in this prison thought of Slade as an ordinary woman anymore.
“Anybody else want a piece of me?” Slade said.
The room was silent.
“That’s what I thought.”
The guards rushed in cautiously. Even they were skittish of her now.
She surrendered, knelt down, and let them shackle her.
“You just broke one of our fundamental rules,” Pemberton said. “No fighting.” But even he had enjoyed the show. “That’s 30 days in the hole, scumbag. We’re about to see how tough you really are.”
Pemberton yanked her to her feet.
Marlow and Kirby watched with a mix of glee and concern. Marlow knew what 30 days in the hole could do to a person. But he was proud of the way she had fought.
Kirby was nervous. Slade was his only hope of protection.
“Anybody fucks with you, tell them they’ll have to deal with me,” Slade said.
Pemberton dragged her away to the pit. Solitary confinement wasn’t just a 6x9 cell with no human contact. It was a water-filled pit, with about 3 inches between the surface of the water and the grate. The only way to survive was to cling onto the grate and pull your nose above the waterline to breathe. It was too deep to stand in. And you had to do all your
business
in the water. And who knew if they ever cleaned it? Most people didn’t survive 24 hours in the
hole,
much less 30 days.
I
t took
Walker a second to place the sound. But then it became clear. It was a sound of a thruster powering up. But then it sputtered and died.
Walker rushed to the edge of the cave and tried to pinpoint the direction of the sound. It was due south. Maybe four or five clicks.
The engine spun up again, choked, sputtered, then conked out.
It had to be the Verge gunship—he had shot that bastard down, after all.
Walker rushed back into the cave and grabbed his gear. He told Bailey to stay put, the dog was very good at listing. He could sense the urgency, and he wasn’t about to miss out on any of the action.
The cold of the night was brutal. It felt like your bones turned into icicles. Walker jogged through the canyon toward the sound of the troubled engine. It wasn’t long before Bailey was shivering. Walker bundled him up in a blanket and put him in the pack, as he had done before.
Bailey huddled over Walker’s shoulder, his eyes and ears at full attention. Walker’s heart pounded as he ran, and the exertion kept him warm within his armor.
At the end of the canyon there were a sea of dunes that spanned a few miles. Walker could see the gunship. It had crashed and plowed through one of the dunes, but didn’t look to be in bad shape—other than its engine problem.
He saw the pilot working on the engine.
Walker grinned from ear to ear—that ship was his way off of this planet.
He lined the Verge pilot up in his sights. It was maybe 1000 yards. He had a clear shot. He had made plenty of kills at a greater distance.
He flicked the safety off and wrapped his finger around the trigger. He clenched his jaw and frowned. He was conflicted. He wanted to kill that bastard for shooting him down. But he wasn’t an expert in Saarkturian technology—Walker might not be able to get those engines up and running on his own. He needed the Saarkturian alive. At least until the ship was repaired.
“I’m going to need you to be really, really quiet. You got me?” Walker whispered.
Bailey let out an almost imperceptible whimper.
“Absolutely no barking.”
Bailey licked Walker’s ear.
The sun was just edging up over the horizon. Walker’s plan was to sneak through the dunes and ambush the Saarkturian. Take him prisoner, make him fix the ship, then leave him stranded on the planet. That seemed like a fitting retribution. After all, these aliens were on their way to annihilate the human race. They deserved no compassion.
Walker used the dunes as cover and made a wide arc around to the far side of the ship. He crawled on his belly to the ridge of a dune and surveyed the craft. The Saarkturian was on the other side of the gunship. Walker had a clean approach to the vehicle. The Saarkturain wouldn’t be able to see him from this angle.
Walker took off his pack. Bailey crawled out.
“Stay here. If anything happens, head back to the cave. You got me? I don’t want any heroics out of you.”
Bailey just tilted his head. He didn’t understand.
Walker scuttled to a rock formation and took cover. Bailey started to follow, but Walker waved him off. Bailey reluctantly crouched down and hid behind the ridge of the dune.
Walker readied his weapon and dashed to the craft without making a sound. He rested his back against the bulkhead. He could hear the alien working on the other side.
The sun rose over the horizon, bringing the first rays of dawn. The bright light had to be difficult on the Saarkturian’s sensitive eyes. And his pale skin probably burned faster than the average human’s. The alien had probably been working on the ship that night, avoiding the daylight. He’d most likely be calling it quits soon.
Walker crept to the rear of the ship. He turned the corner by the port side thruster, then swung around the starboard thruster, taking aim at the alien. “Don’t move,” he said in Saarkturese. “Drop the tools. Put your hands in the air.”
The alien didn’t comply.
“I know you understand me,” Walker said.
“Oh, I understand you,” he replied in English. “I just don’t take orders from sub-level life forms.”
Walker scowled at him. “Well, this sub-level life form is going to put a high-level projectile through that thick skull of yours. Drop the tools and put your hands up.”
A woman’s voice behind him derailed his plans. “Looks like you’re the one who needs to put their hands up. Drop the weapon. Now!”
Walker sighed and grimaced. He was furious with himself. He had forgotten that gunships typically flew with a two-man crew. He hadn’t accounted for a second Saarkturian.
Walker deflated, and lowered his weapon. He could tell from her voice, that the woman behind him was standing close. The barrel of her weapon was likely inches away from the back of his head. It was a rookie mistake. It was an opportunity Walker felt was worth taking advantage of.
He jerked his head aside, out of the line of fire. He spun around, like lightning, and pushed the barrel away. A burst of gunfire exploded from the barrel—an involuntary reaction on the Saarkturin woman’s part. The spray of bullets almost hit the male Saarkturian.
Walker simultaneously brought his weapon up, aiming at the woman. He was about to blast several holes into her body armor when he was tackled by the man. They crashed to the ground, and Walker got a face full of sand.
The two struggled for a moment. This alien was around the average build for a Verge warrior—7’6”, 330 pounds. He was twice as strong as Walker. He had the commander in a chokehold. Walker would pass out soon if the situation didn’t change.
The Saarkturian woman couldn’t fire without potentially hitting her comrade, so Walker and the alien duked it out on the ground for a few minutes.
Bailey just couldn’t stay out of the fight. He ran up and was barking and snapping at the Saarkturian.
Walker grabbed a fistful of sand and threw it into the alien’s eyes. It was enough of a distraction to cause him to loosen his grip slightly. Walker was able to slide out of the chokehold and twist the alien’s arm behind his back, inflicting excruciating pain. He grabbed the alien’s armor by the collar, and hoisted him to his feet. He used the alien as a shield, keeping the Saarkturian between himself and the woman.
She didn’t have a clear shot at Walker. “Let him go.”
“Drop the weapon, or I snap his arm,” Walker shouted back.
Bailey was still yapping away, biting at the woman’s calves. She’d shake him off, then he’d come back for more.
“Is this your dog?” she asked.
Walker clenched his jaw and said nothing.
“Let Malik go, before I decide to do something unpleasant to the little mutt.”
“You hurt Bailey, it will be the last thing you ever do.”
She grinned and took aim at Bailey. Saarkturians weren’t known for their compassion.
“Alright!” Walker let go of Malik.
The alien stumbled forward, shaking out his arm that had been stretched too far in the wrong direction. Then he picked up Walker’s weapon from the sand.
They both took aim at Walker.
“Get out of here Bailey.”
But Bailey was stubborn and kept barking.
“Go, Sergeant. That’s an order!”
Bailey whimpered, then scampered away.
“Do you want to kill him?” the Saarkturian woman asked. “He’s the one responsible for the destruction of the fleet.”
“Not with a bullet. He should suffer,” Malik said. “Get the restraints. We’ll leave him in the sun to die.”