Jon Messenger: Purge of Prometheus

“How are you doing up here?” he asked, rubbing his left shoulder in an attempt to work out the stiffness that can only be experienced by prolonged exposure to heavy gravity.

“I’m tired and extremely sore,” she replied. She turned back toward the front of the ship, focusing on the telemetry bringing them into the galaxy.

“Are we still following his trail?” Adam asked sternly, he masked his contempt behind a cool composure and level voice, but she knew it was there, festering.

Keryn looked down at the computer screen, watching their path perfectly follow a trail marked on the digital readout.

“We’re no more than a day or two behind him,” she replied, freely showing signs of the same anger that Adam subdued. “We’ll catch back up to him soon enough.”

The pair flew on in silence, watching the galaxy reveal itself as they skirted along the dark side of one of the super-heated planets orbiting the swollen sun. It wasn’t so long ago, Keryn thought with surprise, that she had never heard of the name Cardax. Though a successful smuggler, Cardax had flown under the radar of Interstellar Alliance, doing jobs on the outer rim galaxies and not causing too great a disruption to commerce in the universe. That changed just over a year ago, when Cardax stumbled upon an organic compound called Deplitoxide. Deplitoxide was composed of single-celled organisms that rapidly reproduce when exposed to extreme heat. Their outer membranes absorbed intense volumes of heat and converted the remaining matter into a viscous black byproduct. Cardax turned the organisms into a weapon, capable of completely disabling ships once missiles with Deplitoxide warheads were launched into their engines. The organisms fed on the superheated fuel that all ships used for interstellar transport, leaving behind a thick, black tar that ruined engines.

Following his discovery, Cardax became a successful pirate, striking ships throughout the major trading route. His success brought on a small but loyal faction of followers, but also caught the eye of the Interstellar Alliance delegations. Warships were sent after Cardax, who quickly abandoned his smuggling operation and fled for the Demilitarized Zone. It was on the border of the Interstellar Alliance territory that Cardax did the unthinkable: he sold Deplitoxide to the Terran Empire for his immunity.

For that, if for nothing else, Keryn and her crew were ordered — and willing — to capture and return him to the High Counsel for justice. But Cardax had made the hunt more personal when he killed two of her crew and severely wounded a third.

Her painful reminiscing of their first encounter brought a question to mind that she should have asked as soon as Adam had entered the cabin.

“How is McLaughlin?” she asked with genuine worry in her question.

Adam shrugged. “He’s resting in the sick bay.”

Keryn nodded, but didn’t feel very reassured. The ship’s “sick bay” was a converted storage bay, now lined with a cot and the minimalistic medical equipment they had on board.

“The auto-injectors have been keeping his vital signs stable,” Adam continued, “but it won’t do anything for his missing arm. He’s still burning up with a fever, too.”

“It’s been a long time,” she said quietly.

“He should have gotten better, I know,” Adam replied, expressing the concern that she had been thinking. The grenade that struck McLaughlin had been a gift to Cardax from the Terran Empire. Their research into biological and genetic weapons had far exceeded that of the Interstellar Alliance and the grenade had been a byproduct of that scientific investigation. The explosive blast of the grenade had shredded through the soft flesh of the Pilgrim’s right arm, nearly severing it above the elbow. The open wounds, however, had caused the rest of the damage; the wounds allowed a biological agent into his body, one that was slowly breaking down his organs on a cellular level. Current Alliance technology had been, thus far, unable to cure him. Only one organization on their side of the war had the ability to heal him: the High Council. Comprised of the greatest military and scientific minds from among the races of the Interstellar Alliance, the High Council personified the brain trust that created the greatest in military strategy, technology, and medicine. But the High Council wouldn’t agree to treat their wounded until they completed the mission on which they had been sent. Without the capture of Cardax, McLaughlin would die.

The Cair Ilmun dropped its wing and brushed through the atmosphere of one of the Orthorius Galaxy’s superheated gas giants, using the gravitational pull to accelerate toward Othus and the two large Cruisers currently orbiting the planet. Within the ship, the inhibitors continued to suppress the increase in gravities and the two in the cabin were uninterrupted in their conversation.

“You think we’ll have any trouble with them,” Adam asked, gesturing toward the two Alliance Cruisers defending the planet. Their mission had been one of secrecy, which meant they were operating outside the normal boundaries of legality.

Keryn shrugged. “Those two are just for show. They’re only here because we’re near a world on the demilitarized zone.”

The sensors crackled to life as the closest Cruiser sent an automated IFF — identification friend or foe. Without any input from the crew, the Cair Ilmun sent its auto reply, identifying it as a member of the Alliance.

Keryn didn’t slow her approach as the Cruiser processed her reply, nor did she and Adam cut short their conversation.

“They may be armed to the teeth,” she explained, “but Othus is a smuggler’s haven. Unless a ship shows up with gun’s blazing, I’d be surprised if those Cruisers ever left their orbit.”

Othus was a renowned holdover for notorious smugglers. Sitting on the demilitarized zone, it offered refuge for both Alliance and Empire citizens. The result was one of the most diverse societies, full of as many Terrans as any other race.

Before long, the monitor in front of Keryn came to life, and a digital readout appeared.

“Access has been granted. Please accept our welcome to Othus. Alliance Cruiser Dormark , out.”

“You may want to head back and make sure everyone is strapped in,” Keryn remarked, turning back toward the forward controls and reaching for her pilot’s harness. “Things are going to get bumpy once we hit the atmosphere.”

She smiled softly as she heard the cabin door slide shut as Adam left. Adam had been a loyal friend to her for many months, having volunteered for this mission. She was glad to have him by her side, even under such cramped confines. Keryn pushed forward on the accelerator and the Cair Ilmun sped between the two Cruisers and toward the planet’s surface.

Depressing a series of buttons on her control panel, the cabin suddenly darkened as the clear alloy viewports turned dark in anticipation of the burning deceleration through Othus’ radioactive green atmosphere. She extended panels that would assist with building friction during their descent and braced for the rough entry. The Cair Ilmun struck the atmosphere at over one and a half gravities. The force of their impact with sudden gravitational friction shook the ship violently and created a sonic boom in their wake. Though the controls jumped in her hands and her arms strained under the constant vibrations, Keryn guided the ship through the roughest parts of the entry and into the smoother sky over the planet.

The Cair Ilmun passed through the soft, flowing green clouds like a fish through water, leaving rippling waves in its wake. Keryn untinted the darkened windows and stared at the planet’s surface. Othus stretched out before her in an endless jungle and sweltering swamp lands. The heat from the surface radiated from the exposed earth, causing trees in the distance to dance to the planet’s unique rhythm. Large viridian leaves were a perfect compliment to the bright green of the sky.