Dangerous Evolution (13 page)

“Yes it would,” I smiled.

“Put one as close as you can, Ensign.”

“On its way.”

I caught myself counting subconsciously: one, two, three, four,
five…
Boom
. I stood up, sighted the doorway of the ship and started
firing. With Stinson and I both unloading on full automatic, it was hard to say
who hit what, but both the Sentients dropped off the ramp and into the grass. A
few residual hits bounced off their unconscious forms and we stopped firing. The
door slid closed behind them and the shield went back up, its humming sound filled
the air.

The sound of failure.

Shit!” I exclaimed.

Stinson and I ran out from behind the wall to search the guards,
looking for the ship’s control device. I spotted it on the ground, next to one
of the unconscious forms and quickly grabbed it. Pointing the remote at the shield,
I hit the button and it fell away again…silence returned.

“Let’s go, before they have a chance to disable this thing,” I
called out. Looking at Del, I added, “Bring the doctor along, he might prove
useful.”

The five of us converged on the ramp, breaking into two groups on
either side of the door when we reached the top. It was locked tight. My budding
confidence about getting into the ship evaporated when the remote failed to
work.

“That didn’t take long,” I murmured, smacking the device against
my palm. “They’ve already locked it out.”

I turned around to speak to Mendoza and found her waiting behind
me with a breaching charge—ready to go. “I’ll take care of this, sir,” she
said.

“You know the rules, Mendoza; make sure I still have a ship to
seize after the explosives go off.”

“I promise, sir,” she winked.

She set the charge and we moved back down the ramp, darting underneath
the ship and jogging toward the front of the craft—away from the blast. I
didn’t know if the Sentients could target us in the clearing with the ship’s
guns, so I thought this was a safer place to be. Besides, unlike when Mendoza blew
up the engines, this explosion should just be a little pop. Or so I thought… Then
the beaching charge detonated, rocking the ship from side to side and filling
the air with smoke, it even drifted under the ship where we were hiding.

Guns raised, we went back up the ramp and into the ship; the smoke
from the explosion providing cover as we moved down the main passageway. Advancing
as a group—with Stinson and myself out front—we went to the bridge first but
found it empty. There were closed doors on either side of the long passageway,
and we were forced to move slowly, clearing each one individually as we headed
toward the back of the ship.

All of the rooms were deserted—containing debris scattered about
by the explosions but nothing else. When we finally reached the back of the
vessel, we found a large room resembling a morgue.

We cautiously moved in through the open door, guns at the ready. Bodies
were stored in shelving units, stacked four high, situated along the outside
edge of the room. The center of the space was filled with medical equipment and
a menacing looking metal surgical table. I recognized some of the equipment as
the same type that Val Evans had in her personal laboratory.

But where was
she
?

I heard a faint rustle of fabric, and pushed Stinson down yelling,
“Take cover!”

But it was too late. A plasma bolt shot out from behind one of the
stacks of bodies, hitting Mendoza square in the abdomen. Her eyes widened as
she soundlessly fell to the floor.

Fuck!

I dove behind the surgical table, dropping the Snub Rifle and
pulling out my TAC in one fluid motion. The pistol would be much more effective
in this small area.

Plasma fire rang out blindly, striking the ceiling, floor, and dead
bodies indiscriminately, even still; I could see that everyone else had made it
back into the hall and relative safety.

Despite the haphazard firing pattern, I was able to discern where
the assailant was hiding and quickly devised a plan. I launched two rapid shots
from the left side of the table to draw the Sentient’s fire, then dove out from
the opposite side. I caught it leaning out to shoot where I’d been—only its
head and arm were visible—but it was enough. I took aim and fired, hitting the
Sentient mid-temple, removing and cauterizing the top of his head
simultaneously.

The shooting stopped, and Stinson swooped back into the operatory,
rifle at the ready. I walked over to what was left of the Sentient’s body and
removed the gun from its spasming fingers. Then, from opposite sides of the
room, Stinson and I swept the remaining racks but found no one else hiding
behind them.

I motioned for Del and the Sentient doctor to come in the room,
then Stinson stood guard while I went to treat Mendoza. I needed to assess how
badly she’d been injured.

It was bad.

“Did we get em sir? she said weakly.

“We got them, Ensign.”

A loud moan came from one of the racks. Stinson pointed his rifle
at the source of the sound—preparing to fire.
Someone was alive under one of
the sheets.

“Don’t shoot!” the Sentient doctor yelled. “It’s Doctor Evans! Let
me help her.”

The figure sat up slowly, the sheets falling away to reveal long,
red hair—unkempt and partially blocking her face. She swung her thin, pale
white legs around and straightened her back, taking in her surroundings; her
bare feet were hanging several inches from the floor.

“Val Evans?” I asked, already knowing the answer.

“Yes,” she said looking around. Her eyes came to rest on Del. “Ambassador?”

It nodded.

Ambassador?
Well
that
was interesting.

She made the short hop to the floor, steadying herself against the
rack—then fixed her gaze first on my uniform, then my face.

“It’s about time Sector sent someone,” she said tiredly.

“Special Inquisitor Benjamin Malik, Miss Evans.”

A low whimper brought my attention back to Mendoza. She wasn’t
bleeding, but there was a large, almost perfectly circular hole in her abdomen.
Inside it, I could see charred organs and intestines, and a greenish-yellow ooze
had already begun to well up in the abscess. Her skin was clammy and losing its
color.

“Del!” I barked at the large Sentient, “Call in your ship and put
it down in the clearing outside.” I grabbed a sterile pressure pack from my
suit’s med kit, unfolded it to the proper size and stuck it against the wound.

“Do you have a stasis chamber on board?” I asked.

“Yes, but I’ll need to configure it for her physiology. If it’s
even possible,” it added.

“Do it fast!” I yelled.

It nodded, and went outside to wait for the ship.

Stinson came over to assist me, placing his hand on the dressing. I
spied the Sentient doctor walking toward Evans. “Stop!” I commanded, leveling
my TAC pistol at its torso, “Unless you want a matching hole in
your
stomach.”

“I’m not responsible for her injury,” it pleaded. “I’m a prisoner,
just like Dr. Evans.”

“It’s true,” she said, gesturing weakly at the Sentient I’d shot.
“Doctor Sa isn’t one of
them
.”

I put my gun away and stuck Mendoza in the leg with an Omni-Pin.
The composite injection included pain killers and antibiotics, along with an
intelligent volumizing chemical that expanded or contracted as necessary to
maintain adequate circulatory pressure. The hardened syringe also contained a coagulant-sealant,
designed to slow or even stop internal bleeding; the Omni-Pin was devised to address
most types of combat trauma, and was entirely idiot proof.

I removed Mendoza’s fitted hood and headset, gently laying her head
back down on the deck. I also relieved her of the bandolier and other assorted
explosive charges, clearing the way to tape the pressure bandage in place.

Stinson gathered up the discarded weapons and munitions—including
the dead Sentient’s—dropping them into a sterile body bag he’d grabbed off one
of the tables. Outside, I could hear the welcome sound of Del’s ship landing
close by.

“Commander,”
Del’s voice boomed loudly in my
headset, “
The Sentient fleet is entering sensor range now. We have to
depart.”

“We’re leaving,” I said loudly, making sure everyone heard me. “Introductions
and explanations can wait until we hit orbit.”

Looking at Stinson, I said, “I’ll carry her out, Jeff, get those
two on board.”

“Let’s go,” he told them, jerking his thumb toward the door.

“Just a second,” Evans said to Stinson. She turned to face Doctor
Sa, “We have to get the data. We need it.”

She looked back at Stinson, then me, desperation in her eyes. “It’s
important. It will save billions of lives.” 

I lifted the unconscious Mendoza as gingerly as I could, my anger
growing as I watched her young life slip away. “You have until I lock her into
a stasis pod to get what you need. If you are not on the ship by then, I will come
back here and carry Miss Evans out—by force if necessary. And honestly, Doctor,
whoever you are, I don’t give a shit about what happens to you—keep up or get
left behind.”

“I’ll stay here to keep them out of trouble, Commander,” Stinson
interjected. As I left, I saw the pair hurriedly collecting data pads.

I ran to the ship as fast as I could while still holding Mendoza somewhat
steady; I didn’t want to exacerbate her injuries, but if we didn’t get out of
here quickly, none of us were going to make it. Del had the ramp down and the
door open, ready and waiting as ordered, and as soon as I crested the top of
the ramp, the Sentient led me straight to the medical facilities.

Del helped me place her into a white, egg-shaped chamber. It was
thickly padded inside, and its exterior was covered in blue circles of varying
sizes. The Sentient then leaned in and connected the chamber’s monitoring
equipment to Mendoza’s head and hands, backing away as it finished. The lid
began to close automatically, swinging down from a single hinge at the top of
the device.

“It is not ideal,” Del confessed. “It wasn’t designed for humans,
but it should keep her in partial stasis for a time.”

I didn’t need complicated monitoring equipment to tell me Mendoza
was dying. She needed a surgeon, fast—a damn good one at that—along with a
decent medical facility. We weren’t going to find either in Sentient space,
that much was certain.

Del engaged the stasis field, and I took one last look at Mendoza
before running out of the room—headed back to the other ship to grab Evans. But
by the time I got to the exterior hatch, I was relieved to find it sealed for
departure—everyone was already onboard and milling about the entryway.

Time to go.

Del was right behind me as I walked onto the bridge. Stepping up
to the flight pedestal, the Sentient engaged the cloak and we started to slowly
rise from Seveq’s surface. I looked at the monitoring screen—still focused on
the ship in the park—and saw one of the guards we’d first encountered struggle
to its feet. It looked up at our departing ship—dazed and bewildered. Unless
the newly arriving fleet landed to rescue it, that guard’s corpse would soon
join all the rest of them scattered across the planet.

After what it had done to those bodies, it seemed like justice to
me.

“Destination?” Del asked.

“The Verge,” I replied. “As fast as this crate will go. Let’s get
the hell outta here before that fleet shows up.”

Chapter
Six

The bridge was cramped with everyone in there at once, so we
gathered in the flight hangar—the largest open area on the ship. Stinson and I
were still wearing our combat gear, although we’d left our weapons on the
bridge—or Central Hub as Del called it. The two Sentients were unclothed of
course, if you were genderless, I supposed modesty was unnecessary—the concept
may not even exist in their culture. But even with vibrant blue electricity playing
across their ebony bodies, the most striking figure present was still Val
Evans.

She was dressed in the same green skirt and matching blouse that she’d
been wearing when kidnapped days ago; the otherwise elegant effect tempered by
the blood covered lab shoes and tangled, matted hair. But despite the hardships
of the past few days, she remained remarkably beautiful.

“Are you certain that you’re okay?” I asked her, removing my
headgear.

“I…I’m fine. My head just hurts a little where they hit me…But never
mind all that. How is that young girl? Is she going to be alright? I’m a
doctor, maybe I can help.” Evans sounded weak and distraught. And she looked
tired, very, very tired.

“She is in stasis,” I said. “It doesn’t look good.”
No reason
to lie. I’m sure my face would betray me anyway.

“I feel so responsible. If it wasn’t for me she wouldn’t have been
hurt.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” I assured her. “The Sentients kidnapped
you. They caused this.”