Burden of Sisyphus

nightmare that never left him alone. Without a word, Yen broke the hug and walked to the cockpit.

Looking over Decker’s shoulder, Vance saw Buren, still strapped to his chair. “Take care of that one, Decker. He’ll get better in time and could become a great asset, but he’ll have a hard path until then.”

Decker nodded without speaking.

“Once I’m through the airlock, make sure you seal it behind me, then strap in as quickly as you can. I have the feeling you’ll have a bumpy ride, as you escape this system.”

Vance sat on the edge of the hatch, dangling his legs, feeling weightlessness tug at his pants. “I’m sorry we had to meet like this. I feel I found a kindred spirit in you, someone who reminded me of myself a lifetime ago.” Vance sighed and looked down. “Take care of them, Decker. You’re the one who’ll have to keep struggling to stay alive.”

Decker extended his hand. “Thank you, Sir, and please, call me Adam.”

Vance took Adam’s callused hand and shook it firmly, locking eyes with him. When Vance smiled, half his upturned mouth was hidden by his dark beard. “Good luck, Adam.”

“You, too, Sir.”

Vance pushed off and dropped through the hatch. Once clear of the Cair Ilmun, his downward momentum stopped, catching him in a gentle float toward the other airlock. Like the hungry maw of a primordial beast, it slid open, revealing inky blackness beyond.

Above him, Vance saw Adam close the airlock. The outer latch spun, sealing the door and protecting the small ship from dangerous decompression. A sense of loss and sadness washed over Vance when he saw the door close, because it slammed shut a long part of his life and severed his ties to the past. Below him, rising closer, awaited a dark future.

Passing through the airlock, the door sealed shut behind him, casting him into unnatural darkness. Gravity reasserted itself, slamming him onto the deck, while highly oxygenated gas poured from the chamber from ceiling vents.

Vance hurried to regain his feet, not eager to let Captain Young see him in a submissive pose when he entered. As the interior door slid open, bright light poured in. Squinting, Vance covered his eyes with his hand and walked into the reception chamber beyond.

Captain Young stood at the base of the stairs at the far end of the barren room. Along the walls and flanking him, the traitorous crew stood in full military regalia, encased in body armor and carrying large-bore rifles. Vance walked through the doorway and stepped in front of the proverbial firing squad.

Captain Young flashed a predatory grin. “I’m so glad you could join us, Michael.” The smile disappeared, subtly shifting into a snarl. “Where are the others?”

Vance reached back and pressed the button to close the door behind him. The crew flinched at his sudden movement, and many gripped their rifles in nervous anticipation.

“They aren’t coming, Captain,” Vance replied.

The Goliath shook, and the floor tipped, tossing many of the crew off their feet. From a narrow exterior window, Captain Young watched the metal docking arm splinter and shatter, as the Cair Ilmun fired its engines. As the metal arm broke free, its insect-like fingers slipped from the small ship speeding away. The shaking stopped.

“Captain,” the intercom blared, “the ship broke free of the docking arm and is trying to flee the system.”

“I can see that, you idiot!” he shouted, all semblance of civility lost.

“They’re still within weapons range, Sir. Shall we fire at them?”

Captain Young turned toward the smug Vance, who stood calmly by the doorway, as the crewmen clambered to their feet. The captain’s narrow eyes never left Vance as he said, “There’s no need for that just yet. They can’t outrun us. Once I’m done here, we’ll pursue and destroy the ship. In the meantime, track their movements.”

“Roger, Sir.”

The captain glared at Vance, as the intercom went silent. He stepped forward, and the crew closed in around the two men like prison bars.

“Why’d you come here, Michael?” the captain hissed, his anger and curiosity palpable in the ship’s recycled air. “What could you ever hope to accomplish by coming here alone?”

“I came to stop you,” Vance replied coolly, “and to take my revenge for what you did to Halo.”

Captain Young chortled, which led to full-fledged laughter. The crew, taking their cue, laughed with him.

“Stop me? Revenge? You came all this way and sacrificed your life because of a woman? Oh, Michael, I never gave you enough credit. I knew you had to be insane to lead covert operations missions for so many years, but you’re well beyond insane. You’re clinical.”

“Not just a woman!” Vance snapped, cutting off the laughter. “I came here because of Halo and the over one hundred innocent soldiers you murdered on Purseus II. How many others have you betrayed and killed? How much innocent blood is on your hands?”

“Innocent?” the captain roared back. “There was nothing innocent about those soldiers. How many Terrans have you killed since joining the military, Michael? Dozens? Hundreds? How about thousands? You can preach to me all day long that you were doing it for the good of the Alliance in a time of war. Hopefully, you’re smart enough to realize that’s all I did, too. I defeated my enemy in the name of the Empire during a time of war.

“You’re a hypocrite, Michael, and you should’ve had the common decency to die on the planet with the rest of them.”

“But I didn’t.” Vance’s stoic exterior returned. “I had a greater purpose, one I had yet to accomplish.”

Captain Young chuckled. “Do tell, Michael. What’s this great purpose?”

“To kill you before you can turn this ship over to the Terrans.”

The captain smiled wickedly. “And how do you propose to do that?”

“With this.” Vance reached into the dark leather pouch strapped to his hip and pulled out a dark-black sphere. Activating the thermal nuclear bomb was easy while sitting in the darkness after entering the Goliath. As the countdown neared zero, red lights flew around the exterior of the sphere in a dizzying blur.

Screams of protest and fear erupted, as the guards ran for the door. Though stunned, Captain Young stood his ground and watched Vance smugly step forward into the room. Thick laughter rolled from deep in Vance’s chest, filling the room and echoing in the vaulted chamber, as the men frantically tried to flee.

“For Ixibas! For Tusque!”

“Shut up!” Captain Young screamed, drawing his pistol and firing.

The first round slammed into Vance’s gut and dropped him to one knee. He clutched his stomach with his free hand, trying to stem the flow of blood. Grimacing, he looked up at the Pilgrim traitor.

“For Nova and Ainj.”

The captain fired again, hitting Vance’s shoulder. He spun on his knee and fell prone to the floor. Groaning with pain, he said, “For Eza.”

“Shut up! Shut up!” Frantic, the captain fired twice more. Both slugs tore into Vance’s back, piercing a lung and leaving gaping exit wounds through his chest.

The metallic taste of copper filled his mouth, as sticky blood poured from him. His vision darkened, as his strength fled. Sucking oxygen into his remaining lung, he whispered, “For Aleiz.”

The bomb rolled from his limp fingers.

Captain Young lunged forward, snatching the orb from the floor, and hurried toward the airlock.

Two steps from the door, the flickering lights stopped moving. A solid red bar illuminated the sphere’s equator.

The Cair Ilmun nearly cleared the last planet in the system when the Goliath was consumed in flames. Starting with a bubble on its hull, the side of the ship swelled and split, as fire engulfed the warship’s interior. Light as bright as a second sun spilled from cracks in the hull before the ship’s armored plating gave way.

The entire vessel exploded in a soundless vortex of heat and radiation, leaving little more than flecks of debris in its wake. The remains of the Goliath were pulled into the atmosphere of the planet around which it orbited. Small pieces of alloy burned away in the atmosphere. Larger pieces burned like meteors before disappearing into the planet’s cloudy interior.