A yellow button opened a storage-shed hatch. There was a dim light inside; someone was behind a line of boxes. Corporal Jenson could hear the clicking of buttons clearly. He skirted around the boxes but activated a tripwire; cargo crates fell on him. A drop of sweat fell from Destiny’s forehead as she continued typing. The private came rushing in, only to be pushed outside by a large cleaning droid.
“It’s not what you think,” Destiny said from behind cover, “I’m not a spy. I know the Captain, let me go to him, okay?”
The broken crates began to rumble before the Corporal shrugged them off and burst from them. Pretzel slices flew around the room as the corporal roared like an insane beast. The veins on his neck popped outward. A purple vein bulged on his forehead.
“Do you know how much that hurts!?” he screamed.
He rushed Destiny but the cleaning droid left the private and jumped at Jenson, who smacked it back and smashed it into the wall; it dripped hydraulic oil as it slid over the floor. Deactivated. Destiny put her hands up. She was cornered. This madman wasn’t to be trifled with.
“Please, I’m un…”
A single punch to the forehead knocked her out cold. The tiny computer continued to glow as it cracked against the steel floor. Nick found the light panel, switched it on, and rushed past the corporal. He was afraid of Corporal Jenson’s aggravation. Nick thoroughly searched the intruder in order to block her from the corporal’s wrath.
“She’s unarmed; I can’t find so much as a laser pen.”
"That’s because you’re not searching right,” Corporal Jenson said, tossing Nick an all-purpose laser knife. “Be careful about how you cut those tight jeans and that pretty pink flannel. They’re going to kill her anyway, so we might as well have some fun.”
Nick turned the pocketknife off; the laser-generated blade disappeared in a blue flash, “Protocol fifteen, section five of the Independent fleet code states that all decisions concerning potential spies on mercenary vessels are determined by the captain. We risk a court martial if we try anything like this.”
“Give me a break, we’re talking about a mercenary,” Corporal Jenson said, “He’ll probably do the same thing before he kills her anyway, so we might as well go first.”
“You expect me to stand guard while you commit a war crime?” Nick said, “Are you forgetting that she may hold valuable information?”
Corporal Jenson shrugged, “We have her computer.”
“We don’t even know what she’s doing here, and all you can think about is getting some perverted thrill.”
“I’m offering to share!”
“I won’t stand by and let you decide on punishment, you have no authority to order such a thing!”
Corporal Jenson glared at his subordinate. Blood rushed into his forehead as his eyes narrowed; drool oozed from the corner of his mouth. Jenson pulled the knife from Nick’s grasp. It lit brilliantly, as if powered by emotion. He pointed it at the private.
“She’s my prisoner now,” the Corporal said, “I’m entitled to a little compensation for all my trouble. You guard the door. I’ll finish up quick and kill her. I’ll even plant some grenades in the body. It’ll be another fight with a spy, corpse unrecognizable. I’ll let you have equal time if no one shows up.”
Stolen novel; please report.
“Give me a minute to think about it,” Nick said.
Slender fingers deftly pulled a titanium restraint capsule from a belt. There was no sound that Jenson missed. He heard the shuffling of a hand, the rustling of fabric, then clicking of the squeezed capsule. Strands of woven material whipped from the butt end of the capsule with a crack as they decompressed. With uncanny speed, they moved to wrap around the Corporal’s limbs. He heard the straps cutting through air; saw them as if in slow motion.
Corporal Jenson jabbed the left side of the growing straps, then kicked the center strap. They flew back at Nick, but the private rolled behind some crates. Unable to wrap the boxes, the straps fell like wrinkled lace. Colonel Jenson had already turned back to his prey, only to be baffled when Nick turned him around and kicked him in the stomach. The heavy blow to the gut did not stagger the corporal.
Frothy drool oozed down the left side of his mouth as an insane smile formed. He clutched Nick’s leg before the kick pulled back and thrust him into the crates like a papier-mâché doll, where he fell senseless. With that taken care of, Corporal Jenson no longer cared about continuing to fight. Only the girl concerned him. Until the barrel of a revolver pushed against his ear.
“You two planning on accomplishing something with my prisoner?” Fade asked.
Corporal Jenson lunged. Fade braced on his left foot. A kick to Jenson’s the stomach stopped his momentum. Fade pulled back his leg and kicked him in the mouth. He pulled back again and launched his foot into Jenson’s groin. The Vitrola enhanced the pain as the Corporal collapsed into a shivering pile. Spit flew as his back locked into an arch. Two strap capsules finished the job. Fade flicked them at the drugged Corporal’s wrists and ankles. The cloth straps hit their marks and held mercilessly.
Destiny’s elegant brown hair ran across the floor and contrasted with pale shaded skin typical of Hakkut frontier people. Fade winced as he knelt beside her. With trembling fingers, he pushed her hair back. As soon as he heard breathing and sensed a heartbeat, the shaking stopped. A heavy bruise formed along her hairline.
“Horace, anything broken?”
A tube swayed around her body. Horace remained silent as it scanned her. The screen flashed green thumbs up. She was clear of any fractures, including her skull. Fade holstered his revolver and cradled her body, lifting her slowly. Ace approached the doorway; he blocked Fade’s path when he saw a young woman in his arms.
“You’re awful gentle with that spy,” Ace said.
“Watch those two behind me,” Fade said, “and you might want to let me pass.”
“Not if you’re planning on doing something we’ll both regret,”
“I’m not letting anyone near her. You hear me, off limits.”
Fade repositioned Destiny and coughed purposely. Ace didn’t move.
“The path’s a little narrow for the both of us,” Fade growled.
Ace finally moved out of the way, “Where you taking her?” he asked.
“To the medical center, if you’ll put yourself out, keep an eye on things until Lieutenant Soel sends someone to pick up his trash. Horace can keep you company.”
“You wouldn’t happen to know that girl, would you?” Ace asked.
“A friend, she’s harmless,” Fade said, “And not a spy.”
-----
The twelve identical tiled cells of the brig were an antiseptic white. White bars. White beds. White sheets. White lights. White toilets. White sinks. Pink pillows. Footsteps approached cell twelve. A barrier of white straps cocooned Corporal Mark Jenson to a bed.
A calloused thumb and a rough forefinger rubbed an unshelled peanut. It was the first sign of life Jenson saw since waking. He struggled against the restraints again. His body flailed back and forth to no avail as froth formed on the corners of his mouth.
When Jenson saw the outline of his lieutenant, he stopped. Those narrow eyes reached from outside to the cell, that paralyzing glare filled it. The cell bars slid open and the Lieutenant calmly stepped into the cell. He made a fist. He punched Jenson’s stomach while twisting his calloused knuckles. The captive spit upwards with a grunt of pain.
“Taking recreational drugs on duty, I’m disappointed in you Private Jenson,” Sol said coldly, the emphasis on the new rank this man carried, “I’m choosing to overlook this indiscretion because you’re still worth more than the trouble you cause. Don’t think of this as an act of weakness, I happen to still see some value in you, but my patience is waning. The next time you lose control, I will dispose of you, personally. Do. You. Understand?”
“Yes sir!”
The Lieutenant switched his stance so that he was standing over the bound soldier. His eyes expressed stern fatherly disapproval. The binds came undone and Jenson slowly sat back up. He flexed his arms and stretched his fingers, savoring the ability to move. Then he stiffened up and stared straight at his commanding officer.
“I won’t disappoint you again, sir!”