“I’m gonna kill that bastard,” Jolo muttered to himself.
“Captain, be careful of the man in black. Like us, I believe there is more to him than is readily apparent.”
“Do you know Fed gunboat protocol?”
“I am quite familiar with the operation of most ships in the known galaxy.”
“Alright, then. You wanna be captain?”
The synth smiled, “Sure, but you’re gonna have to call me Captain George.”
“Of course, Captain. I think I’m gonna take a walk.” And then Jolo turned to face George. “We got two more incoming. And the plan is flimsy.”
“I am prepared,” said George. And then he added, “Do you know why our fa— Marco, sent me along?” He paused for a second, but Jolo did not reply. “He sent me to give my life for yours, should it come to that.”
“Thank you. But let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”
The Man in Black
Duval
Perched on top of the Jessica in the magna-boots, Jolo stared down into the bridge of the Valhalla II. George had put the nose of the larger gunboat right on the smaller recon ship. The man in black was on the comm again, attempting to rile up a synthetic life form with a 1000 times more computational power than a human. But was the skinny man standing on the bridge of the Valhalla human? Jolo thought, reaching under his left arm, tracing the line of worn leather that led to his gun. His father said it was a Colt, made on old Earth before the final war. Marco had given him extra clips and told him the name of the man on Duval who could make the projectiles that didn’t require an external power source and could move through most energy shields.
He stood and looked up between the two cliff walls on either side of him into the crack of dark sky. The stars were out. He took in a deep breath of the cool, sweet air. He relaxed for a split second, just standing there on the top of his ship, all alone, and Jaylen popped into his mind. I’m coming, he thought. I will save you.
And then the Jessica jerked forward and he nearly lost his balance. His mind shifted back to the task at hand. He was going to jump. The magna boots were heavy so he’d have to give it everything he had. But if he could clear the nose of the Jessica and land square on the Valhalla above the bridge port window he’d be fine.
……
The thin man in the black suit peered out at the Jessica, the two ships now touching, the larger gunboat forcing the smaller recon vessel into a nose down position. At any other time the gunboat would have been a prize, but now, neither ship held any meaning to him. It was the creature inside that he desired. The thing calling himself Vargas. The Emperor had made it clear that Vargas was a target, even as the Federation boats flittered around like slow humans do, accomplishing nothing for their weak, little president who’d soon join the other malcontents dying on some work planet on the edge of known space.
Vargas must be erased before the Fed alarmists rose up and overtook the current, beaten majority. And now, when the stupid humans had spent themselves in futility searching for this rogue Vargas, the Emperor called me, he thought, smiling to himself.
“Ensign, fire the railguns!” he screamed at the young Federation officer. He would take both ships and all of the soft humans down into the ravine in flames. Only he would walk away. And maybe the synth, but he could deal with that plastic humanoid.
“Yes, Captain.” But the guns did not fire. The ships were too close.
“Engineering!” the thin man yelled on the comm. “Override the railgun proximity block!” There was a short pause, and then an older, calmer voice answered.
“Captain, if we fire the railguns this close it might take us both down.”
“Who is this?”
“Belcher.”
The thin man in black stormed down two levels to engineering and grabbed a skinny officer in a black coverall.
“Where is Belcher?” the thin man said, holding up the young officer over his head like he was nothing more than a stick.
Belcher stepped forward. “I’m here, uh, Captain. Put him down and I’ll do whatever you want.” Belcher was holding his hands out, trying to calm the thin man in black down.
“Oh, so you are telling me how things are going to go. Is that it?” His eyes narrowed and his face contorted into a scowl. Suddenly he threw the young engineer into a heat riser along the far wall like he was a toy. The man fell onto the floor in a clump and was quiet and still. A small pool of blood spread out onto the metal deck.
Belcher glanced at the opposite wall where the weapons stash was kept.
“No time for that, Mr. Belcher. Besides, you wouldn’t make it two steps in that direction before I broke your neck. Now we’ve got one minute before two Grana ships arrive and take all the credit for my work. I’ll not have any of that. Nor will I suffer human insubordination.”
“I’ll have to pull the logic board. It’ll take a minute.”
“You’ve got 30 seconds or I’ll have to make another example,” he said, eyeing the other engineer who was pressed against the wall.
The man in black went back to the bridge and stared out the port window at the Jessica, wishing she was being torn in half by the Valhalla’s rail guns. Vargas wouldn’t fire on the Valhalla because there were Feds on board. Another human flaw.
Suddenly his view was blocked as two heavy boots landed on the outside of the port hole. Instinctively he jumped back and watched as Vargas himself slid down the outer view window of the Valhalla, then gain purchase as his boots found metal. He put his gun, that ancient pop gun, on the outer laminate and started tapping.
