Wild Space Pt. 04

"Good, we've reached your limit. Now let's push you a bit farther." Crobe closed his fingers a bit more and was rewarded with another tortured cry. "Splendid."

"If I could work the electro-shock filaments on the arms I would slowly cook you," Crobe continued, still holding his left middle and index finger into his right forearm, just above the elbow. "However, I believe what I am about to do now will be even worse."

The doctor walked over to Gara's slab, who had been uneasily slumbering. With his foot on its pneumatic pedal Crobe lowered the bed until it was about the height of his knee.

"Crobe!" Edge snarled from above his head. "Let me out of here and you get to die quickly!"

"All your skills and your bravado won't save either of your lives," He smiled up at her, the first one he had ever shown her. She hated it on sight. "I could crush you at my leisure, but I believe I will release you at the last moment before I leave. For the crime of kidnapping and for your pedestrian lack of vision I do sentence you to starve to death down here in the dark as you clutch what remains of your lover in your arms."

After ensuring that he was still pressing into the implant in his right arm and keeping his fingers rigid he then raised his boot and stomped it down right in the middle of Gara's still swollen face. Her angry shriek didn't deter him at all. He matched it with an enraged yell of his own and lifted his foot again. And again. And again. Someone was weeping.

Crobe's black jungle boot was soon dripping red, and Gara made no noise at all even as stomp after explosively power stomp struck her head, her chest, her new eyes. Edge found that despite all she had unflinchingly seen in her life she had to force herself look away when the final blow took the life of the only woman she'd ever love.

**

The base had been abandoned, but it was easy to see where Vinjula had spent the majority of her time. They found a half dozen empty vibrant tubes, each one as slim as Sita's little finger, along with some crushed ration and Rehydrator cans near a portable bed roll. There was a freshly welded, raw metal bar that looked out of place, jutting from the side of the rusty building.

"She dug a foxhole," Sita mentioned, pointing with the tip of her rifle to the freshly churned dirt. "But there's no enemy here."

"There are in her head," Chief Berg rumbled. "Better believe it. Got a few myself."

"The profile the psych officer gave us indicates he's right," Alla said. She took off her camouflage hat and wiped her sweaty brow. They had all packed more water than gear, it felt, but they needed it. The jungle heat was moist, fecund and plastered clothes to sopping wet bodies in an instant. "Her trauma has become part of her personality. Factor in the drugs she's taking and her training and you've got a nasty customer."

"This is expertly done," Berg told them, kneeling down to the hole. "Look at this: just big enough for two people, not too big to tempt someone to hurl a grenade in it. And if they do she's dug a small hole in the bottom to kick them into. She can just about duck in here, no more so she can pop out and fire rapidly. She even has a shelf for power paks and canteens and rations."

"She most likely dug it as a reflex," Alla put her cap back on. "She probably does it everywhere she can, without even realizing it."

"How much farther to the lab?" Berg asked, mismatched and narrowed eyes scanning the jungle, rifle at the ready.

"Just up ahead. I studied the map." Sita had the wrong kind of hair for this weather, she thought with a bit of well earned and indulgent misery. From her brown down to the small of her back, right above her butt, she was one big puddle of sweat.

Chief Berg, having the most boots on the ground combat experience, was walking point. Sita was next, in between the two trained officers, where they could cover her. Alla brought up the rear, occasionally turning to glance behind them all as they trekked. The two sailors had told Sita that she would fall into the easy rhythm of the patrol quickly, and she was surprised to find out that they were correct.

The laboratory was down a flight of stone stairs. They had expected to find it closed off, but to all of their surprise the big doors were open. Just in front of the yawning emptiness was a haunch of meat. Sita tried to peer around Berg's immense back to see more. Then she heard him curse.

"What?" She shrilly whispered up at him, trying to crane her neck.

"Quiet," He hissed. He waved them all forward.

Sita felt her stomach sink when she stepped over the threshold of the doors. It wasn't a haunch of meat, it was a human forearm, complete with hand. She resisted the urge to kick it aside and then nearly vomited at the thought of touching it even through the thick material of her boot.

"Got a live one," Berg shouted back at them, and then to indicate it was not an enemy he said: "No contact."

There was a man who looked as if he had given up trying to crawl up the steps. He was covered in blood, had untidy black hair, and wore rotted and fetid clothing. Beneath it and the blood on his face Sita could see that he was sharp featured, and his eyes blazed with an emotion unrelated to his injuries, which were extensive.

"Tell us what happened," Alla commanded, taking a knee a feet from him, not offering to render aid though each of them had medical paks on them. Berg covered them all with his rifle, peering down into the brightly lit laboratory.

"She threw a knife at me while she was half crushed," The man said, narrowing his eyes. Hate. Hate was the emotion blazing in his fierce obsidian eyes, Sita realized, like two malevolent black stars. "Took me right above the ankle, sank into the bone. I couldn't hold her anymore or put any weight on my leg and run. Then she dragged me up here and..."

"You're Crobe," The ensign said to him. "This is your facility, right?"

"It is," He confirmed to them, wincing in pain, trying to get up. "Help me."

"She hacked off your arm so she could open the doors to escape," Alla replied with what looked like a bemused smirk. "By Ana she's good."

"She's injured, enraged," Crobe said in a strained voice. "I can tell you where she's going. The three of you can catch her and kill her. Help me up, give me some water."

"Show us on the map first," Alla expertly flicked out the scroll on her left forearm. "Where's her ship?"

Crobe's dark eyes studied her as if she was an insect pinned down behind a museum display case. He didn't have much choice, and he knew it. He pointed with the one bloody hand that remained to him. "The second cliff up the game trail on the eastern mountain. You can't miss it. We can catch up to her, she's hurt but she's still got a head start-"

Berg fired a blast into the back of Crobe's head at such close range that the energy bolt was still leaving the muzzle of his rifle. It burned a neat hole through the external occipital protuberance, right below the so called point of the back of the skull. The cauterized but still superheated halves of Doctor Crobe's head slid off of his shoulders and to the stone steps of his lab, followed after a gristly moment by his torso.

"Why-why did you do that?" Sita yelled. She found herself knocked to her knees when Alla whirled about and roughly cross checked her with her rifle.

"Shut your mouth and stop giving away our position, or you're getting left behind." The ensign spit down at her. "Crobe wasn't getting a ride back. No room for him, anyway. The galaxy is a better place off with him."

Berg seemed to agree by wedging his foot under the still smoking corpse and pushing off so it tumbled down the sharp edged stairs, jostling back and forth as if in the midst of some macabre dance.

"Want to check below?" The big man asked after the body had thudded to a rest.

"No need, this is all getting bombed to shards anyway. Leave the doors open so the flames roast it all." Alla said with a sneer. "Besides, we've got a ship to catch."

They slogged back up the stone stairs, leaving the burnt remains and the scorched smell of flesh behind them. When Sita got to the top of again the heat seemed to grow somehow worse. Heat like this gets into your head, gets trapped between your clothing and your skin, she thought. It made it hard to focus, frustrating to have to wipe sweat off of your forehead or feel it drip all the way down the small of your back. She felt tired, too drained, as if all the moisture in the air was slowly sapping her of her energy.

There was a heavy stillness in the air as the trio stepped back onto the gooey jungle loam. They were all reluctant to set out once again into the moist funk, but Berg, ever dutiful, led the way.

Sita thought he stumbled taking that first step but instead of falling to the earth the big pilot's leg was thrown free of his body, both flying in opposite directions. Alla was on the ground and yelling for her to do the same before he had even landed. She fell awkwardly on her rifle, jamming its barrel deep into the mud. She managed to lift it forcefully from the earth and desperately tried to clear it so he could fire, should she need to.

"Berg!" Alla yelled. "Berg, sound off, chief!"

There was no response but for a long and anguished shriek. Sita saw him clutching the stump of his leg, uncomprehendingly staring at the ruined limb. And then an energy bolt cut short his pain and his scream with it.

Alla lowered her smoking rifle, eyes scanning the treeline, ready to fire again. But there was only the buzz of insects and silence.

"You killed him," Sita's hazel eyes were wide as she stared at the other woman. Had it been safe to do so she would have taken off running into the trees.

Alla saw the look in her eyes, too. "Berg would have done the same to me. His screaming was giving us away. She could be on her way back here to finish us off. If you try to run she'll hunt you down and skin you alive. Just stay put."

"Or what?" Sita demanded, her eyes now brimming with tears. "You'll kill me, too?!"

"If I have to. You're here as a courtesy and because she killed your partner. Not because I need you." The other woman spit back. "If you don't prove useful..."

"What do we do?" She asked after a long moment.

"Your scroll has a limited range mine detector, but if she's using wood or some other material I'm sending you out first to set anything off," Alla said. She must have seen the look on Sita's face. "Just a joke. It's going to take a while to explain all this to you, and we don't have the luxury of you messing it up. So listen: unwrap your scroll and find the terrain overlay toggle..."

Soon Sita felt comfortable enough to stand. According to the scroll, there were no mines in a two meter radius, but as Alla had said, the range was limited and there were materials the device couldn't detect. Each step was a small act of courage in and of itself, but eventually they reached the more traversed area of the base. Sita felt a little better about walking more freely and she said so.

"Don't be, she has this all memorized." Alla told her warily. "She could have mines down over the entire area and she'd avoid them automatically, without even thinking."

"But we walked through here fine before," Sita pointed out. "And the scrolls say it's clear."

"We have no choice." Alla rolled up her scroll into its housing on her left forearm. "We can't effectively move with these out. I don't relish the idea of fighting up a mountain after her, but we've got no choice. Follow me."

The terrain turned rockier as they approached the mountain. Alla asked her if she saw any tracks that looked recent. Sita said that it all looked the same to her.

They wound their way up the increasingly steep incline. The weight of her rifle and gear made her back and feet ache. It was growing cooler, much to Sita's relief. At least she was covered in cooler sweat now. She felt a tiny bit of relief at the stupid joke, and unsrapped her canteen from the webbing around her waist.

A stream of pebbles skittered past her, and then a handful of larger rocks. She managed to work out what was happening when she heard the ear splitting sound of stone breaking followed Alla's shrill and blood curdling scream. Sita threw herself to the side of the winding mountain trail.

She coughed out dust when the rumbling cacophony of the small avalanche passed her by. Sita made sure her rifle was undamaged and ready to fire first. They have made a soldier out of me, she thought bleakly. Then she went to look for Alla.

She found the political officer pinned down beneath a handful of small but jagged boulders. There was more rock than flesh and uniform showing. The biggest one laid at the back of her neck. All Sita could see of her face was a mishmash of dark red hair and blood. She shuddered, turned away.

And was met with the round, hard edge of a pistol that was shoved deep into her stomach. The impact, the ferocity, all of it took Sita's breath away. When she fell hard on her butt she saw the barrel of the weapon and inanely thought that it didn't need to be pulled, that she was going to die just from being punched in the gut with it. She sat there, struggling to breathe.

The woman that stood before her was clad in a torn and bloody makeshift Army uniform, boots, and cap. Her leg and shoulders looked twisted, and she breathed and swayed hard, as if she was in pain simply standing there. She held the largest pistol Sita had ever seen, its muzzle wide enough bore to take down big game, and a wide little knife filled her other hand. She had an awesome physical presence, even injured as she was. Scars festooned the brown flesh that Sita could see, and she bet that there were plenty she couldn't. Her hair was long and black, tied back in a no-nonsense ponytail, and her eyes seemed to consist of two tiny black pools of agitated insects crawling over the yellowed sclera. She was angry.

Sita raised her arms over her head, far away from her rifle. She felt her stomach constrict and roll over, spewing acid all the while. Her beautiful hazel eyes closed.

**

Edge's fingers twitched around the butt of her favorite pistol, the one that could burn a hole through a man that looked big enough to leap through. It would be easy to do. Draw, fire once to put her down and then again for good luck, as her instructors used to say. But from what she could tell this one wasn't hurt, and the last one left. She needed intel.

"How many of you are there?" Her own voice surprised her. She sounded weak, defeated. She felt it, too. She hoped it didn't show.

"Don't point your gun at me."

"I'm not going to unless you make me." Edge was puzzled at the other woman's meek tone.

"You're...Vinjula." The woman looked exhausted herself. She had pale skin, a thicket of brown curls, freckles. She was going to burn if she sat around in this Mapili sun without protection. She looked plenty scared, which surprised her.

"Used to be," Edge said. "And you are...?"

"I'm Sita."

"Give me your outfit and rank, soldier. Not what you're fucking boyfriend calls you."

"I'm no soldier!" The woman called Sita said with a hint of fire, apparently forgetting her fear. "I'm a Barrens Ranger!"

"No, you're EDG."

"I thought you were Edge."

"Used to be," She sighed again. "You don't move or talk or look like one of them, so what are you doing here?"

"You killed my partner, that's what I am doing here."

"Who?"

"Yomp. A Ranger who was retiring to be with his family soon. He was a good cop and a sweet old man who only wanted to help others. He gave his life for me. You dropped a grenade on him just like you dropped a rock on Alla here and you killed them both!"

"Alla I know," Edge pointed at the body. "She's a political officer, the worst of the lot. You ought to thank me."

"You throw away that gun and knife and I'll do a lot more than thank you," Sita snarled. From the look on her face she meant to give it her best shot if the chance presented itself.

"I didn't kill your fucking partner, lady," Edge shot back in a tone just as furious. "I don't even know who you are. What are they saying I did?"

"What you always do. Kill and rob."

"They're using you like they use everyone else. I didn't kill an old Ranger. Did they tell you what I do?"

"I know that you're a killer." Sita said with narrowed eyes.

"When it calls for it," Edge said, and closed her eyes tightly. When she opened them her voice sounded steadier. "One thing I don't do is act unprofessionally. You're saying I rigged a grenade to kill this Yomp friend of yours?"

"Yeah. I was there. Implo grenade. You nearly got us both, but you probably know all that."

"Where?"

"Don't ask me if you already know!" Sita burst out and with it came a torrent of tears. She moved her arms from above her head and Edge twitched, but all the woman wanted to do was beat away her tears.

"Put your hands back up, get yourself together." Edge ordered her. "I asked you a question."

"It was on Ajax's Scourge, where you killed the professor and his wife."

"I was there, and I did do that, and I did take an artifact he kept in his safe. Pompous asshole didn't even know what he had, but I'll say this for him: he died quietly. The wife I regret, but she saw." Edge shrugged as best she could with her wrenched shoulder. "I got rid of the bodies. I was in and out of there in less than an hour. And you think I left a grenade in the pantry for some reason for you two bumbling cops to find?"

"It was the office." Sita peered up at her. "It...wasn't you."

"You believe me now?"

"I don't know, give me a minute. Will you let me get up?"

"I'll do you one better, but if you touch your rifle or make a wrong but I'm going to throw you right off of this goddamn mountain." Edge knelt and together they found their feet.

"You took out two trained soldiers and Doctor Crobe. I can't imagine what you would do to me." Sita admitted. "So if you didn't kill him..."

"Most likely her or my old unit." Edge indicated the dead woman under the rocks. "They did it just in case I came back. They wouldn't care if a local set it off. Or your people, for that matter. It's how they operate."

"They sent an assassin after me when I was in the hospital. And then found me when I was hiding and tried to kill me. They killed civilians."

"Its what they do, lady." Edge told her flatly. "You took them all out?"

"What?"

"This hospital assassin who snuck up on you and tried to slip a dagger between your ribs. And when you were on the run, they sent people. You killed them all?"

"I didn't. I defended myself."

"You're alive. They're not. You did what you had to do. But believe me, lady, if I wanted you dead you would be."

Sita felt lost. This woman, their alleged quarry, hadn't killed Yomp at all. Where was her sense of purpose now? Her revenge had been executed without her. She felt as if she had nothing left.

"Why didn't they kill me outright? I just spent a week with them traveling here to find you."

"PR, probably. Someone found out and came to their senses and decided to spin this differently." Edge shrugged and it made her wince.

"Whatever. I can't fly our ship home." I don't have a home, Sita thought dejectedly. "I believe you. Or I don't. I don't care. I just need a way off this terrible planet."

"I'm not-"

Edge's vision swam and she had to cling to the other woman for support. Sita put an arm around her and moved her hip against the much bigger woman's and stood her up straighter.

"Where's your ship? You need a doctor."

**

They had no doctor, but between the two of them they had both undergone enough first aid and combat lifesaver courses to make a go of it. Sita administered the basics easily enough, but the hard part was the nano-implants alongside the bones. Thankfully, Edge's vessel, the Horizon, had a state of the art medical facility, even if it was a bit cramped.