Beyond Mars Crimson Fleet (9 page)

In
particular to this, was the huge space dreadnought positioned at
the head of the fleet. Its size dwarfed even the biggest of the
Martian cruisers and boasted the name of the present Earth's
council director—
Quinton
.

The
ESS Quinton
was the flagship of this—the Crimson Fleet. Reputed as one of
the most aggressive, destructive, and brutal of the modern Earth
military forces, the Crimson Fleet was also counted among the very
best.

The crews
of this fleet were also strangely unique: the majority of which
were not human. Humans accounted for less than one sixth of each
ship's compliment at best, and slowly they were being replaced.
Machines or their variant hybrids dominated the crews. Their
strength, endurance, and efficiency were considered more valuable
than human inventiveness, bravery, and compassion. This was
especially mirrored in a microcosmic melodrama that now played
itself out aboard the
Quinton
.

* * * * *

Only bands of upward moving
rings of pulsed bluish-white energy illuminated the dark judicial
chamber. The bands of electromagnetic conductivity were used to
restrain a kneeling woman prisoner between two metal plates in the
middle of the room. Their fluctuations of motion were accented by a
constant hum and occasional miniature lightning strikes of static
electricity that stung at the brunette's body. The woman jerked and
cried out from the pain cause by each random sting, while her
thoughts were choked by the despair of her uncertain
fate.

Crewman Laura Jillian
sobbed quietly as she awaited the verdict of her court martial. She
did not understand how or why this nightmare had happened. The
woman's mind replayed her cycling of a bank of power relays during
the normal 100-hour maintenance procedures. Every Step was
meticulously followed and electronically checked off on an
intuitive log. However, without warning one of relays was stuck
closed, causing a huge unexpected surge of current. This overloaded
the equipment, which blew apart and caused an internal fire in the
main engine room.

Although, her actions were
recorded on video, the recording somehow mysteriously vanished
along with the electronic log, evaporating her defense. The
recording and log’s disappearance was seen as a cover up to an act
of sabotage, as accused by a cyborg shortly after the incident. He
had been remotely monitoring the operation on the bridge. Added to
this notion of treason were several previously made statements by
Laura taken out of context. It was though someone had deliberately
set her up for a court martial that was unwinnable. Laura’s spirit
sank lower in the depths of depression with this thought as the
waiting continued.

Suddenly, the room's
hatchway opened and light temporary flooded the chamber. Laura saw
only the silhouette of a tall, lean female who stepped into the
room with two massive bodyguards. The door then sealed itself
again. Laura heard the woman's footsteps march to the judge's bench
in front of her as small reflections of light betrayed the tall
woman's path. For the moment, there was only silence.

A dim green light then
“clicked” on from the judge's bench and illuminated only the mouth
and jaw of the female figure in a soft afterglow. The lips and jaw
were held tight in a pursed and stern reproach, unnerving the
prisoner even more. Jillian's heart palpitated as she awaited the
verdict.

"Crewman 2nd Class Laura
Jillian, it is the decision of this court that you have been found
guilty of the crime of sabotage against the Earth, her government,
and her people. Do you have anything to say before I pass
judgment?" the voice of Admiral Selena Darius echoed in
monotone.

Laura looked up as part of
her mind disbelieved Darius’ verdict. A sickening wave of terror,
however, twisted her stomach to nausea as she strained to see the
shadowy figure. "I didn't do anything! I didn't do anything wrong!"
she pleaded while tears began to stream down her face.

"This court does not
believe you!" the admiral's tone changed to one of intolerance.
"You are hereby sentenced to death! Sentence is to be carried out
immediately! Take her away!"

Laura's mind was frozen in
astonishment as the bands dropped into the floor plate and vanished
while a small overhead light illuminated. Her eyes became glassy as
she looked out to nowhere. The woman's breathing then became more
rapid as the blood drained out of her face and her skin became
clammy; reality was setting in.

She remained kneeling and
motionless as two cyborg guards stepped from out of the darkness.
Each grabbed an arm and pulled the stunned girl to her feet. As
Laura was made to stand up, she began to fight her guards wildly,
but to no avail. As she kicked and strained to be free, her
aggressors merely tightened their grip and pulled her off her feet.
They then began to drag the sobbing woman from the room as their
heavy footsteps echoed in the chamber that was eclipsed by
shadows.

"NO! NO! PLEASE, NO!" her
cries for mercy filled the room and corridor as they departed.
"HELP ME! OH GOD! PLEASE HELP ME!" Laura screamed, fought, and
begged. But eventually, her cries fell into faintness as the trio
exited down the corridor. Finally, the hatchway closed and all was
silent.

For a moment, the shadowy
figure of Selena Darius showed no emotion. Then slowly, a smile
formed on her face and grew broader. She, herself, then departed in
the darkness with a detectable liveliness added to her
gait.

On the
bridge of the
Quinton
, a middle-aged officer in the khaki naval uniform of the
Earth space forces paced the deck slowly, but deliberately.
Regardless that he was very well built and muscular, his black hair
was slowly graying. His chiseled and expressionless features spoke
of many years of active service, while his eyes scanned the sunken
deck with a careful, steady gaze. Although his face betrayed no
emotion, his soul was filled with utter turmoil and
pity.

In all
his years of service in the military, he never saw a sight like
this, human beings—or rather just their heads

were physically merged with
machines. The process, he thought, must have been unimaginably
painful.

Each head, before it was
severed from its living body, was supposedly “wiped clean” of its
former personality through the use of chemicals and electric shock.
Once the head was removed, it was then mounted like a captured fly
in a web of thin hoses, wires, and fiber optic cables. Finally
encased in an orb of glass with a built-in holographic screen, the
heads were isolated from any contamination from the outside
environment. They then took their places in rows that formed a huge
bank, filling up an entire wall of the bridge.

They were considered an
essential part of the newly design Earth battleships and used for
controlling all manners of functions. This included a new and
superior battle matrix system. With them, scientists and engineers
had effectively combined human reason and intuition with machine
accuracy and efficiency—and all at the speed of thought. These were
the huma-droids, otherwise known as “HD's”.

The “HD’s” were a recent
development of Earth technology and newly passed laws. Legally
adjudicated as “a resource for the common-good” by a corrupt and
politically motivated Supreme Court, they were made up of men and
women condemned for any serious crime on Earth, sentenced to
become—this.

As the officer continued
to stroll around the deck, he wondered how many of them actually
committed any crimes. Commander Vincent Trager paused by one in
particular. Her grayish-white face revealed that she was once
beautiful and in the spring of her life when she was taken to this
fate.

Trager froze momentarily
and wanted to touch in sympathy the glass that covered her face.
However, he knew that this was unwise act, and so decided against
it. Seeing her reminded him of his last planetary leave of no more
than four months ago. There he met a young waitress at a restaurant
in the wee hours of the morning. Business was slow and the night’s
air cold. Yet, it was a good time for chance encounter.

Trager
smiled for a moment and thought back to the deep conversation they
had: of life as college coed and a soldier, their troubles, and
their dreams. He wished himself younger that night as the
possibility of a romance beckoned. But the cold reality of being so
much older and a military man bound to his duty stood in the way.
So they parted with a tender farewell, him to his new ship:
the
ESS Quinton
.

Although
life aboard the
Quinton
was a little unusual, Trager quickly settled into it. Three
months later into his posting aboard his new ship, the first of the
HD's arrived and were installed. With little thought, he paid these
“condemned criminals” no mind. But then on one of his daily tours
on the bridge, this one caught his eye. He paused to carefully
study the woman's face in detail. Finally after a few unsure
moments, he found himself recoiling in utter horror, for he
recognized the face as being that of Julie Morris: waitress, coed,
idealist—and now huma-droid.

The eyes that were once
filled with the joy of life now glared unblinkingly at a pseudo,
holographic viewer that was a part of her case. A mind that once
hoped and dreamed now only calculated and analyzed. And every time
he looked upon her, his stomach grew queasy while his eyes soften
with the moisture of compassion. He hoped and prayed that her
family thought her dead.

As Commander Trager
continued his routine inspection of this “ship of the damned” he
was assigned to, a cyborg walked past him. Trager's eyes locked on
and followed the hybrid to its duty station. He restrained the
emotions of the man within him once more. However, his pity for
Julie abruptly turned to total hatred and revulsion for the “thing”
that had just walked past him.

Trager regarded cyborgs as
nothing more than traitors to the human race. They consciously
forsook humanity for a machine's life, and power over what was once
their own kind. To the officer, they were embodiment of a
computer-dominated world, and the impersonality and cruelty that it
brought.

Taking a deep breath,
Trager turned away completely agitated and feeling the need for
diversion. He marched to the controls of the main viewer and
powered it on. He hoped to focus his mind on one of the few things
that gave him solace: the eternity of space.

The air crackled for a
moment with static electricity, and then a patch of stars, dust,
gases, and void appeared before him in a swatch of tapestry. Trager
took another deep breath and began to relax.

Suddenly, an electronic
voice imbedded into a wall panel near the hatchway began to
broadcast in naval protocol, "ATTENTION! ADMIRAL ON
DECK!"

With those words, the
rounded hatchway parted open. Trager looked up as he stood at
attention, his stomach tightening with more tension. Within a
moment, the figure of Admiral Selena Darius stepped onto the bridge
with her two android bodyguards.

Selena’s
body was clad in a black shinny leather-like material that covered
most of her machine parts well and gave her the guise of an
athletic woman. A taught black hood covered her head and accented
her grayish-white facial features, which Trager guessed to be
Mediterranean. However, the hood ended in a large rounded bun at
the rear of her head. This portion was an advanced computer that
was merged with her brain and designed specifically to interface
electronically to the
Quinton’s
battle
matrix
system.

More
machine than human, Trager regarded her from the very beginning as
extremely dangerous. Selena was highly intelligent, absolutely
ruthless, and exceedingly ambitious. Although she was a veteran of
many battles and a competent leader, her direct political
connections were partially responsible for her command of the
Crimson Fleet. But her reputation of needlessly sacrificing crews
and ships for vainglory and lust of destruction was the paramount
reason of her appointment. The Earth government demanded a
heartless taskmaster in charge of their most powerful armada for
enforcing their policies and advancing their agenda. And Selena was
the perfect marriage of human vanity and vindictiveness to a
machine's apathetic logic, which was needed to impose
The Order’s
will upon the
galaxy. In Trager’s eyes, however, she was the absolute symbol of
pure evil.

As Admiral Darius seated
herself in her command chair, she wave to her subordinates to
return to their duties. Trager broke out of his stance and moved to
her side.

"So Trager, what have you
to report about our Martian prey?" Selena inquired.

Trager took a moment to
compose himself and then began his report. "They're running,
Admiral. They've beaten off our reserve fleet and all of the
Martian transports have just lifted off. Your plan seems to be
going smoothly. I've relayed a message to Earth Command about our
progress."