Beyond Mars Crimson Fleet (34 page)

“I thought you were taking
over the fleet?” Paladin called out to the three
traitors.

The somewhat startled men
turned and paused to the voice that taunted them. But Damon mouth’s
sprung to a grin.

“All things in their proper
time, Commander,” the administrator answered. “We’re quietly
positioning our ships throughout the fleet, along with disabling as
many of the transports’ hyper-drives as we can. We’d prefer minimal
bloodshed when we take complete control.”

“Minimal bloodshed?”
Paladin repeated in disbelief.

“Of course,” Damon was more
than happy to divulge their plans. “We’ll have to destroy any ship
that will not follow orders, and regretfully that includes
civilian.”

“And when will that
happen?” Paladin’s inquiry was toned in anger.

“Why just as soon as the
Earth fleet arrives. We would be vastly outnumbered otherwise,”
Damon edified.

Paladin glared at the trio
with total contempt. “You murdering bastards!”

Although Damon snickered at
the remark, Khalid, however, was less forgiving of the insult.
Instead, he broke away quickly from his fellow co-conspirators, and
in great strides, reached Paladin in a few seconds. Omar lifted his
hand onto an arch and then struck the older officer across the face
as hard as he could with his palm. The sound of the blow crackled
loudly. Paladin’s head jerked to the violent impact of Omar’s hand,
while blood from an earlier facial wound sprayed the air in small
droplets.

Paladin slowly turned his
head back. Blood once again was running from his mouth, but he
ignored it along with the new pain. “Why don’t you have a couple of
your goons hold me down so you can do a proper job!” the defiant
Martian officer dared his tormentor in his electronic voice. “You
were never much on guts or a real fight, Omar!”

Khalid venomously glared at
Paladin. His lips disappeared into a narrow slit and were locked
tight by the tenseness of the traitor’s jaw. The words of the old
Martian officer were filled with truth, and Omar hated him for
it.

Coldly Khalid raised his
hand to strike the bound and sitting man with a harder blow,
however; the ship’s warning lights began to pulse hurriedly in
ominously red, while a collision alarm sounded an urgent wail of
distress.

“CAPTAIN,
THERE’S A SHIP COMING OUT OF HYPERSPACE!” the
Morning Star’s
sensor crewman cried
out. “IT’S GOING TO OPEN UP RIGHT ON TOP OF US!”

Captain Jacobs dashed to
the crewman’s position to have a look for himself. As both men eyed
the instruments, the looming threat now became quite
clear.

In a
dazzling display of swirling neon colors, the hyper dimensional
jump-point opened a short distance from the anchored cruise ship.
The wormhole then shot out a blurry silhouette that transformed
into the reality of a battered
Dolphin
class Martian destroyer. She
was charred, dented, and breached. Her atmosphere was slowly
draining away in streams of particles of crystallized ice, which
accented her fast acceleration.

“CAPTAIN, SHE’S IN A
COLLISION COURSE WITH US!” the crewman yelled.

“WARN HER OFF!” Jacobs
barked in return.

“I’M TRYING TO HAIL HER,
BUT SHE’S NOT RESPONDING! HER COMMUNICATIONS MUST BE
DAMAGED!”

“SOUND GENERAL QUARTERS!”
Jacobs frantically ordered.

There was
no time, however, for the anchored ship to fire up her engines as
the death of the
Morning Star
appeared immanent. Frozen in fear, no one uttered
a single word as the seemingly out-of-control and speeding Martian
destroyer drew closer to the
Morning
Star’s
portside. All were consumed by a
starfarer’s worst nightmare as they waited for the massive impact
and explosion that was sure to follow.

But the warship
unexpectedly veered slightly away from the suicidal course while
its braking thrusters burned exceedingly bright. The destroyer
swerved back and forth fighting for its survival, as its velocity
rapidly slowed.

Still, an
impact came. It sent the
Morning
Star’s
entire bridge crew sprawling to the
floor, as a portion of the ship’s outer metal hull was crushed and
bent in a long and disharmonious howling vibration. Some screamed
as lights flickered on and off, loose pieces of ceiling and walling
flew in different directions, and a surge of power burned up some
equipment in smoke and flame. Yet surprisingly—no one
died.

After a
minute, the bridge crew of the
Morning
Star
picked themselves up and began to
ascertain what had happened. However, Wakinyan and his marines did
not hesitate for an instant. Although shakened, the rescuers were
already out of their harnesses and moving down the blind side of
the
Crazy Horse
to
where the two ships had merged as one. They brought with them
welding equipment, modified repair plates, and long thick air hoses
that were attached to the destroyer’s air pumps.

A frightened, but composed
Captain Khalid rose to his feet and stumbled to the sensor
crewman’s position along with Jacobs, Damon, and Galler.

“What the status of our
ship?” a calmer Captain Jacobs questioned the crewman.

“We’ve taken some hull
damage in the bow, near the third contour line. Some systems are
down because of cut cables, but otherwise we’re intact!” the
crewman answered.

“Thank God!” Jacobs sighed
in relief.

Khalid, however, was not as
forgiving. “I have that captain executed for this!” he angrily
bellowed. “What’s the ID of that ship?” he demanded to
know.

The
sensor crewman glanced at his readout. “The I-F-F identifies her as
the
Lee
, and she’s
badly shot up!”

“The
Lee
,”
Galler was in disbelief. “I thought Denko reported her destroyed
with the
Crazy Horse
?”

“I don’t care!” Khalid
asserted. “Who’s ever responsible is going to pay dearly for
this!”

As an
inspection of the
Morning Star’s
systems and integrity began in earnest as all
minds forgot about the prisoner they carried. None of the traitors
paid Paladin any attention as he stared out the porthole at the
shot up destroyer that was impaled into the
liner.

His eyes
roamed the damaged ship as he gave a prayer of thanks for its safe
return. And then he spotted something surprising. A smile slowly
grew on Paladin’s lips, as his eyes locked on two faded and
slightly dirty large blue squares that were painted on the
starboard side of the warship. The squares were opened on the
bottom and symbolized an ancient American Indian prayer: for God to
let the destroyer fall upon its enemies like hailstones. He also
knew that the red arrow emboldened on the other side of the
Crazy Horse
, was an
accompanying appeal for swiftness in battle. Paladin happily
recalled Wakinyan’s explanation of the lore of his heritage—and
Paladin’s smile broadened. He then came to agree with Khalid,
someone was about to pay dearly for this.

* * * * *

Chapter 20: Beaten into
the Dust

The
boarding of the
Morning Star
not only went completely unobserved as planned,
but the progression through the ship was going faster than
anticipated. As the Martian raiding party rapidly flowed through
the darkness in single file, Sergeant Gagarin—
pointman
—kept them moving at a brisk
stride.

The
raiders entered the ship in the collision’s breach and found the
duct they knew was there from records located in
Crazy Horse’s
data base.
Using repair panels and welding equipment, the marines quickly
sealed themselves in, leaving only two squads to secure the outer
entrance. A massive hose line was mounted to one of the panels.
Through it, the air pumps of the
Crazy
Horse
began to supply air for the
pressurization of the maintenance channel. This was necessary not
only for a fast exit out of the shaft and into the ship, but to
ensure that sealed integrity of the space liner was not
jeopardized. There were still many innocent people aboard, and
Wakinyan wanted to give them every chance for
survival.

Wakinyan’s thoughts,
however, were transfixed in the fire of hate as he and the Martian
Marines hustled through the maintenance shaft. The appalling act of
betrayal by Damon and his followers infuriated the Lakota warrior
beyond his capacity. To Wakinyan, it was nothing less than the
worse kind of cowardice camouflaged by treachery. In his mind,
there was only one answer for it.

After a few minutes,
Gagarin reached the second waypoint of their march. He then threw
up a hand to halt the column, which was quickly followed by two
upheld fingers as an indication of achieving the route
point.

On his signal, each marine
check a gauge on their space suit that tested the density and
content of the atmosphere around them. In hurried gesture, each
marine motioned with a “thumbs up” to let the next person behind
them know that it was breathable.

“Ground it!” commanded
Major Franks’ voice over each headset. With the order, each marine
began to shed their cumbersome space suit down to their tight
fitting and pocketed battle fatigues. Once freed from the suit, the
heavily armed and equipped raiders then began moving forward at a
faster pace.

* * * * *

Khalid
and Jacobs keenly analyzed the ship’s damaged control reports.
There seemed to be only slight degradation to the
Morning Star
, but
assessments were still coming in. It was a miracle that both ships
weren’t destroyed, and it fueled a nagging suspicion in Omar’s
mind.

Jacobs, however, was not concerned with
suspicions. His focus was on at seeing the final summary of the
condition of his vessel.

“Commander Khalid,” the
Jacobs addressed the man, “other than both ships being locked
together, it appears that damage was minimal in the
collision.”

“Have you dispatched any
repair teams?” Omar inquired.

“They’re enroute now,”
Jacobs answered.

“Good,” Khalid said with a
frown and somewhat lost in thought. He then paused for a moment as
he pondered the situation further. “Captain Jacobs, in the
meantime, I want you to contact my ship. I want her here just in
case there are any more surprises!” Omar ordered.

At those words, Damon’s
face became troubled. “It sounds like you think that this was
deliberately planned,” the administrator pointed out.

Khalid shot him a stern
look, while his frown became more pronounced. Unexpectedly, he
turned backed to Jacobs. “Call security!” his voiced was in alarm.
“I want this ship placed on full alert!”

* * * * *

The
security room of the
Morning Star
was greatly enlarged many months prior to the
Martians’ bid for freedom. This was to accommodate—and conceal the
almost five hundred cyborgs and security guards necessary to keep
the ship under Earth-loyalist control.

The chamber, itself, was
updated, altered, and supplemented with more specialized equipment,
transforming the room’s functionality into a micro command and
control center. It was from here that electronic sensors and eyes
probed, observed, and scrutinize all activities in and around the
space liner as well as within the fleet.

However,
the sudden impact of the
Crazy Horse
quickly neutralized their effectiveness. Cables
and fiber optics were cut, equipment destroyed, and data
communications rendered temporarily useless. Without these critical
devices of forewarning, the
Morning
Star
now lay partially blinded—and
vulnerable.

Quickly, security and
repair teams were hastily rushed to where they were thought to be
needed the most, emptying the command center of over half its
personnel. A report of armed Martian Marines outside the ship
particularly motivated them and hastened their departure. Still,
over one hundred of the armed Earth sentinels remained and
continued their mundane task of surveillance and
security.

The displays and controls
of their equipment were the most dominant lighting of the chamber.
The fluctuating and subdued ceiling lamps, which gave little
illumination, were only meant for the necessity of trivial interior
movement.

Besides being poorly lit,
however, it was also practically silent. The majority of sound came
from the humming of electronic mechanisms and instruments—and this
was the rule. Conversations were occasional and limited to the task
at hand. For none dared to stray from their duties under the
intimidating gaze of their cyborg overseer, Alpha-538. The
machine-man-thing was in charged and he was swift to punish or even
kill anyone not following his orders.