Extinction (23 page)

“Fair enough. Now please hold up
your end of the bargain. Where is the bomb?” The captor handed Murgag a datapad
with a map on it. One of Murgag’s hands was released so he could work the
datapad.

Murgag saw on the datapad that
the company’s search team was very close to finding the bomb on their own. He
keyed in a couple of commands and the bomb’s location was highlighted on the
map.

“Very nice. I’m impressed with
the placement location. That’s the best place to do the most damage without
being an obvious location for us to look.” He regarded the datapad. “And now,
to finish our business.” He stood and loomed over Murgag.

Murgag lashed out with his
unbound hand and struck the captor as hard as he could in the face. As the
captor stumbled backward, his crony stepped in and began to draw his weapon.
The henchman was human so Murgag turned his wrist over and launched one of his
barbed darts into the human’s neck. The poison, not effective on Trizites, put
the human down instantly. The paralytic would wear off in a few hours if the
human survived through it; not all did. They had pulled Murgag’s spines when he
was captured but they didn’t harvest them a second time so the next set had
already grown in.

The captor was coming back for
Murgag and now had a knife out. Murgag swung his chair around and tried to
break it against a nearby pole. When that didn’t work, he stumbled, fell to the
ground and rolled once. He was able to get back up on his knees and then feet
just in time to avoid being stabbed in the neck by the captor. Murgag swung the
chair and struck his attacker square in the hip and knocked him back again. The
captor tripped and fell on his knife, impaling himself in the eye.

The captor screamed with equal
parts rage and pain. Murgag tried to use the moment to his advantage and ran
towards the door. He was met by three large men of different species, and even
more violently by the butt of a rifle.

When Murgag became conscious
again, he was tied down to a board with his arms and legs extended wide. Some
superficial damage had already been done to his body while he was unconscious,
but nothing too bad. He then saw his captor walk into the room, a bandage
wrapped around his head and bulky gauze covering his previously impaled eye.
Murgag realized he must have been out for a while.

The captor was in control of
himself but just barely. “You fool! You stupid guppy! I was going to set you
free! There was no trap. No double-cross. I was about to release you and put
you on a transport. And now, now that won’t happen. Now that you have gone back
on your word, I will too.”

“I never said I wouldn’t try to
escape or kill you. I only said I would give you the location of the bomb and I
did that.”

“Semantics.”

“Not really, but anyway...I don’t
suppose an apology would really mean anything right now, would it?”

“No.”

“I didn’t think so. So what’s on
the menu, more dirt?”

“I’m glad you can be so glib; it
will make breaking you so much more fun. I was thinking, because you have such
an affinity for working with humans, maybe I could make it easier for you to do
so.” The captor played with his knife around Murgag’s hand.

Murgag knew exactly what was
going to happen. Trizites had webbed hands and couldn’t use most human
instrumentations because of it. Some Trizites had their webbing surgically
altered or removed so they could use human weapons, and other objects made by
the dominant fingered-species.

The webbing was extremely
sensitive and even professional surgical alterations could have negative
lifelong effects: Pain. Deformity. Loss of sensation or mobility. Most Trizites
wouldn’t even think of doing it and even fewer actually had the surgery
performed.

Murgag regained consciousness
just long enough to feel the knife cutting through his last section of webbing.
The captor wasn’t just cutting the webbing down the middle; he was actually
excising it almost completely from between each finger. Murgag couldn’t help
but scream—he had to, with all of his might. The pain was searing through his
mind like a star gone nova inside his skull.

“You took my eye, so I will take
both of yours.” The captor was moving around to Murgag’s head. “You’ll wish I
had killed you. When you’re floundering around this ocean without sight or
webbing, you will die a slow death. You will be eaten by the most lowly predators
these waters have.”

Murgag felt the tip of the knife
being traced around his eye socket, scraping against his spikes and causing
pain that normally would’ve been horrid had his webbing not already been cut
from his hands, causing more pain than he had ever imagined possible. The knife
was getting closer to his right eye; it was about to happen.

Murgag first felt the spray of
blood across his face and then the sound of the knife hitting the ground. A few
muffled puffs of air, a sound that he didn’t recognize, and then several bodies
flowing past the table he was strapped to. As one of the bodies passed, he saw
that it was a Coalition soldier and he was carrying a suppressed weapon of some
sort.

Once the room was clear, Murgag
felt his limbs being released from the table. A Shirka stood over Murgag. “I’m
a corpsman. Are you hurting anywhere other than your hands?”

“I, uh, yeah, a lot of places.
But I think my webbings are my only real injuries.” Murgag looked at his hands
and couldn’t believe they belonged to him. “Who are you guys? Why is the
Coalition saving me?”

“We’re not.” A sergeant, probably
the squad leader, stepped into view. “Your friend there on the floor was the
lead security agent for the entire company. He was using his position to run illegal
guns, drugs, and everything else you could think of all over the galaxy. He’s
been a target for a while now but hasn’t been out in the field. This little
stunt of yours pulled him out of hiding. Thanks.”

“Yeah, no problem. That was my
plan the whole time.” Murgag flinched as the corpsman sprayed a tissue-bonding
agent over his hand.

“Hey, Wilks,” one of the other
men said, “come take a look at this datapad.”

Wilks walked to the other man. “What
have you got, Bloom?”

Wilks read over the pad for a few
minutes and then came back to Murgag. “I just looked over everything they had
on you and the work you did here. There’s even a debrief on the bomb you set.
Pretty impressive stuff.”

“Are you going to take me into
custody? I know you aren’t the police, but by Coalition laws, I am a terrorist.”
Murgag wasn’t sure whether he even cared at this point.

Wilks looked around at his squad.
“I think you’ll find that despite our outwardly aggressive appearance, we’re
all really just a bunch of tree-huggers.”

“Are you making fun of me again?”
The Shirka didn’t always get human humor. “I told you I wasn’t scared. I was
climbing that tree to get dinner.”

Wilks just shook his head. “If
you’re interested in fighting the good fight, I can get a good word to the
right people and get you into the Coalition military. You’d make a great marine.”

“I don’t think they would let me
in with my record. I’ve been pretty good at hiding my tracks but I’m not a
complete ghost.”

Wilks just chuckled. “Hey, Bloom,
think you can fix that for our friend here?”

“Sure. I’ll have the records
fixed by the time we board our transport. I don’t want them figuring out who he
is when we get on board.” Bloom started working on a virtual keyboard that only
he could see.

“Why would you do this for me?
You don’t know what kind of being I am. You don’t know me at all.” Murgag knew
that if this offer was real, he wasn’t going to pass it up.

“I do know you. Maybe not you
personally, but I know
who
you are.” Wilks sat next to Murgag. “You are
fighting for what you think is right, and regardless of the ways you’re doing
it, you’re actually on the right side here. In prepping for this mission we’ve
gathered a lot of intel on you and you’d be surprised at what I know about you.
All of your targets could have been Coalition sanctioned if you were with us.
Just like douchebag here on the ground.” Wilks pointed to the dead captor.

Wilks stood. “We’re wiping your
slate clean. Giving you a chance to do the right thing in the right way. I
can’t promise you’ll always agree with your orders, but for the most part, we
do good things. Think about it.”

Wilks walked away. Murgag got up
and followed the Shirka, who led him from the room and onto their watercraft
that was waiting for them.

When they made it back to the
transport, Murgag found Wilks in the forward cargo hold. “I’ve been thinking a
lot about what you said earlier.”

“And?”

“Do you really think I could make
a difference if I joined the military?”

“I wouldn’t have said so if I
didn’t think it was true. Besides, it looks like your hands are all but ready
to grab some weapons and get to work.” Wilks saw Murgag’s spikes turn a
yellowish-green color; he couldn’t quite remember what emotion that color
scheme was for.

“Not. Funny.” Murgag looked at
his bandaged hands and was thankful for the regional anesthetic the corpsman had
applied to both arms below the elbow. “I wasn’t sure if you meant it; that’s
why I asked you again.”

“What’s different about my answer
this time?”

“This time, my arms are
completely numb so I’m not in pain. Because I’m not in pain, I was able to
focus on you and feel your emotions. I could tell you weren’t lying. That’s what
I needed to be sure of before I made my decision. I’m in.”

“That’s great, but I’m not a
recruiter. You’ll have to sign up through your friendly local recruiter. After
you get through boot camp, I’ll keep an eye on your progress; if you do well
enough, you might find yourself with an invitation to try out for Force Recon.”
Wilks sat in some crash webbing in the cargo hold, trying to get comfortable so
he could take a nap.

“Thank you. For saving my life,
wiping my slate clean, and giving me an idea of how I can do things better. I
owe you.” Murgag saw Wilks close his eyes and knew the conversation was over.

As Murgag turned to walk away,
Wilks added, “If you ever scan me again, I’ll take a knife to your feet and
finish the job that guy started on your webbing.”

Dig Site One – First Contact

“Everyone down!” Scan cried as he hit
the deck and the first energy wave came searing through the corridor. Fang was
already down and rolling before Scan even yelled a warning. Scan had detected
Fang’s knowledge of a foreign presence at almost the exact same time he noticed
it for himself. Whoever they were, they didn’t have very nice thoughts.

Unfortunately, Snyder wasn’t an empath
or a Shirka and the warning came too late for him. His body was hit by the
energy wave and his midsection seemed to just vanish underneath him. With his
body in two, he hit the deck, somewhat still alive.

Daria was in one of the rooms towards
the rear of the corridor and was slammed to the deck by Davies’ massive body
when the alarm was sounded. She heard a human scream and felt the need to run
to their aid. Davies held her firm. “You ain’t goin’ nowhere, young lady!” He
peered his head around the door. The team had opened fire on whatever had fired
on them.

“What the hell was that!” Wilks demanded
on the comlink. “And for that matter, who or what are we shooting at?”

Fang had the best view because he was at
the forward-most room in the corridor. “I can’t tell who or what they are. But
judging by their size, I’d say we’re in their home.”

“Oh, shit.” This was from Bloom. “I hope
they don’t press charges on me for breaking and entering.”

“Cut the chatter!” shot back Wilks. “Are
we doing any damage or just wasting rounds?”

“I’ve hit their lead man several times
and nothing. My rounds are bouncing off what seems to be a personal shield. In
fact, I can barely make out their forms—just relative size and position. At
this distance, their screens are distorting any features that they might have.”
Fang let out another burst from his weapon. “I’m going to try the EMP and see
if I can disrupt their shields.” He fired the pulse directly at the oncoming
attacker and noticed a slight fluctuation in the shield’s harmonics. Fang’s
highly-attuned hearing had picked up a slight humming sound right before the
first plasma bolts came down the hallway. He now knew that it was coming from
those shields and it changed ever so slightly under the barrage from the EMP.

“I think it might be doing something.
The shield’s energy seems to be draining. Wilks, Bloom, lay down fire on the
target while I continue with the EMP.” Fang returned to firing his EMP and his
two teammates followed his orders.

The shield began to sparkle and buckle
under the intense beating it was taking. The enemy hadn’t stopped firing but
the size of the corridor just wasn’t big enough for them to get more than one
through at a time. The smaller humans and even slightly larger Shirka had
enough room to lay down fire from four separate places at once without
endangering their own squad.