Cold Planet: A Gateway Universe Story Read online

  The Terillian let out a groan but Martin’s leverage evaporated as her powerful opponent pushed himself onto his side and spun toward her. Knowing she had lost the advantage, she released her grip and rolled clear. Jumping to her feet, she drew her sword.

  The Terillian stood across from her, a metal tomahawk in each hand.

  “We get to finish this now,” said the Terillian with a smile.

  “That would be great,” replied Martin, “but I don’t have the time—” Martin stopped mid-sentence as she drew her pistol, swinging it toward the Terillian.

  The pistol flew from her hand as a tomahawk knocked it free.

  Martin brought her sword in front of her face just in time to block the second tomahawk as the Terillian brought it toward her head. She let out a groan as the tomahawk deflected and slid through the flesh on her left thigh. Stumbling backwards, she kicked upward, slamming her right boot into the jaw of the Terillian and dropping the Ranger to his knees.

  Her back hit the wall of the elevator and she pushed off to charge her enemy again. Her sword over her head, she swung downward toward her opponent as he tried to stand. A metallic clang echoed through the elevator as her sword contacted one of the Ranger’s tomahawks. Her attack thwarted, Martin’s arms were forced upward as her opponent pushed off the floor and wrapped his arms around her torso. Lifted off the ground, Martin braced herself for the impact of her back against the wall.

  She let out a loud exhale as her body smashed against the wall and her sword fell to the ground. Her opponent pressed her against the wall with his left arm as he shifted his weight and drove a tomahawk toward her head. Martin used his pressure to pivot her body, landing a powerful two-foot kick into her enemy’s chest as the tomahawk drove into the wall of the elevator where her head had been.

  Hitting the ground, Martin jumped to her feet and rushed the Ranger again. She stepped toward him, swinging her right leg toward his knee. The Terillian blocked her kick and stepped into her attack, again lifting her into the air. Martin grabbed a knife from her belt as she went weightless, her opponent driving her toward the floor. Pain shot through her back again but she remained focused, driving her knife into the Terillian’s upper back.

  The Terillian rose to his knees and let out a grunt but quickly slammed his fist against Martin’s jaw.

  Dazed, she looked up into his eyes; they burned with rage as he reached for a pistol holstered in his vest.

  Martin grabbed her opponent’s hand as it gripped the pistol, preventing him from withdrawing it. Pressing against his vest and pulling down, she let out a groan as a series of punches from his free hand landed against her exposed ribs.

  The elevator door dinged, causing Martin to glance toward the opening door as she struggled with the Terillian Scout Ranger.

  At the open door stood two wide-eyed Terillian regulars. Returning her focus on her opponent, Martin released her right hand and drove it upward into the Terillian’s throat. The Terillian let out a raspy gasp and his grip on the pistol weakened, allowing Martin to gain control of the weapon.

  Pulling the weapon from her enemy’s vest, she swung it toward the open elevator door and fired three rounds, toppling the two regulars as the elevator door closed.

  As the third round exited the pistol, her arm was driven toward the floor by the Terillian still on top of her.

  The pistol flew from her hand as it slammed into the floor, but she twisted her upper body and delivered a powerful blow to the Terillian’s jaw. Her opponent grunted and drew his left arm back, preparing to drive it toward her face. Martin leaned in and, with a growl, sunk her teeth into the Terillian’s face. The chalky taste of the Terillian’s face paint mixed with the warmth of his blood as she bit down hard.

  The pain from the bite caused the Terillian to lose focus and Martin capitalized, sliding her legs from underneath the enemy and wrapping her left arm around his neck. Sensing the Terillian pushing upward, she drove her knee into his chest followed by two elbows to his back. After the second elbow, she slid her right hand under his chin, locking in her choke hold.

  Spreading her legs for leverage, her feet touched the wall of the elevator. As they did, she placed them as high on the wall as she could reach and pushed down, adding more leverage to her hold. Every muscle in her body strained as she pushed down against the Terillian’s body, squeezing with all of the strength in her arms.

  Suddenly the air left her lungs as the Terillian pushed through Martin’s hold and landed a blow to her midsection. As her feet slid to the floor, she felt her torso pushed backwards and up by the Terillian. Tightening her body, she crashed into the wall but recoiled and swung toward the Terillian’s face. Her opponent blocked her punch and pain raced through her head and down her spine as his fist drove the back of her head against the wall of the elevator.

  He swung again but Martin tilted her head to the right and grasped his arm as it brushed past her face. She drove her left foot into his right side, causing him to drop to his knees.

  She twisted her body and let herself fall, wrapping her legs around her opponent’s right arm. Her back hit the floor and she twisted and torqued her body as she pulled hard on the Terillian’s wrist.

  Martin shifted her feet and rolled onto her knees to continue her attack. She torqued her waist to drive her fist downward but suddenly felt her body falling toward the ground followed by a blast of pain as her opponent’s boot collided with her temple. She hit the floor, her vision blurred by the blow. Shaking her head, she looked up to see the Terillian rushing toward her with a tomahawk in his hand.

  Pressing her hand against the ground to brace herself, the cold metal of the pistol lying on the floor next to her brushed against her hand. Martin grabbed the pistol and swung it toward the attacker. Two shots rang out as Martin sent two bullets into the Terillian’s torso, dropping the warrior to his knees.

  The Ranger looked up toward Martin, his face contorted in pain and rage. She placed his head in her sights and pulled the trigger.

  Click.

  The Terillian rose to his feet as she pulled the trigger again. Another click.

  “Shit,” she cursed as she tossed the pistol aside and dove for her sword. Rolling to her right, Martin gripped her sword and thrust upward from her knees. The Terillian let out a groan as Martin’s sword drove into his abdomen.

  Letting out a low groan, the Ranger gripped Martin’s shirt and she felt her body lifted upward. Then an explosion of pain overtook her as her opponent smashed his head into her nose. Through her tunneling vision, Martin saw the Terillian’s arm driving down toward her chest. She didn’t have time to react as the hot, piercing pain of a knife sliding into her upper chest and caused her to let out a cry of agony.

  Martin looked into the Terillian’s eyes again, only centimeters from her face. “Fuck you,” she spat as she pulled her sword from her enemy’s stomach with a powerful twist, driving the Ranger to his knees again. Martin stepped back with her right foot and then shifted all of her weight to her left as she snapped her torso toward the Ranger for maximum force as she swung her sword. A cry of anger and pain burst from her as she drove through her enemy’s body, his head falling to the ground.

  She stumbled slightly, letting out a grunt as her body hit the wall of the elevator and sent pain shooting through her battered body.

  The elevator door dinged and slid open.

  Martin slowly pushed away from the wall and stood erect. Panting heavily, her sword extended by her side, she looked up to see Shara.

  “LT, are you okay?” asked Shara, lowering his weapon.

  “I…” The adrenaline from the fight giving way to pain and fatigue, she collapsed to her knees.

  “LT!” shouted Shara as he rushed into the elevator, pushing the door open again as it started to slide shut.

  Martin felt Shara’s arms support her and begin to help her to her feet.

  “She okay, Shara?” asked Yates, who was a few meters away covering the access to the elevator.
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  “I…I’m fine,” she grumbled as Shara helped her out of the elevator.

  “Is that the painted…damn, LT,” said Shara, seeing the body of the painted-face Ranger.

  “Yeah,” huffed Martin.

  Aided by Shara, Martin stepped out of the elevator and saw Yates look back toward her.

  “You sure you’re good, LT?” he asked.

  “Yes, damn it,” she grunted as Shara helped her lean against the wall. “Just get my rifle and get some fucking meds in me and…and I’ll be fine.”

  “Yes, Ma’am,” replied Shara. “I’ll get your rifle.”

  “That must have been one hell of fight—”

  “The meds, Corporal,” she repeated, gripping Shara’s pants’ leg.

  “Yes, just a second,” he replied, pulling a neuro-injector from his pack. “Here it comes.” He drove the needle into her left arm.

  Her arm twitched with the sharp prick and soon grew warm as the neural inhibitor began to pump through her veins. In a few seconds, the pain was almost bearable. “Now get this damn knife out of me.”

  “Yes, Ma’am,” replied Shara as he placed one hand on her upper chest and the other on the knife. “Here goes.”

  “Mmmm,” grimaced Martin as the Shara drew the blade from her chest. Looking down, she saw blood begin to pump from her chest.

  “Hold on, LT.” He applied a thick coat of coagulate gel to her wound.

  “We good?” asked Yates.

  “Good,” said Martin through gritted teeth as she pulled herself to her feet. “What’s the situation?” she asked after a deep breath.

  “Kilgore is headed toward the fifth floor and it looks like the detention center is just up there to the left,” answered Yates, pointing toward Daemon. The war dog sat on its haunches by the first door in a long hallway. “He hit on it as soon as we hit the fourth floor.”

  “Then let’s get our guys,” she replied, bringing her rifle to the ready.

  Chapter 15

  Martin stood by the entrance to the detention center gripping her rifle. After the trials of the last few weeks, she wanted—no, needed—to find her men alive. Exhaling forcefully, she looked across to Yates, who was positioned on the other side of the entrance. He responded with a nod. She looked to Shara. The corporal was behind and slightly offset from her position, ready to enter the room. Finally, she glanced down toward Daemon. “Daemon, entry-attack,” she whispered. The huge dog tensed its body, its thick, sharp canines exposed and ready to do their work.

  She held her hand in the air with three fingers extended. Then two. One.

  “Go!” she shouted and Yates pulled the door open as she rushed in.

  Her sights centered on a Terillian guard taking cover behind a desk and she fired. As the guard tumbled backwards, she saw a flash of fur to her left as Daemon burst into the room followed by a horrific scream as the dog found a victim.

  She spun to her left and saw another guard fall, his chest destroyed by a burst from Shara’s rifle.

  “Clear left!” shouted Shara.

  “Clea—” Martin stopped and sent a round into a guard who had emerged from a door on the opposite end of the small office. “Clear forward!”

  “Clear right!” added Yates.

  She scanned the area for other threats but there were none.

  “Shara, check that last guard,” she ordered, realizing the door he emerged from had a keycard access pad. “They gotta be behind that door.”

  “Uu-ah,” replied Shara and quickly moved to the guard lying in front of the locked door.

  “Does he have a keycard?” asked Martin, reaching the door.

  “Bingo!” said Shara, holding a card in the air.

  “Positions,” ordered Martin and the three prepared to enter the next room.

  Her heart pounded. “Open it,” she ordered and burst into a small hallway as the locked door slid open.

  The hallway was empty, with transparent walls on each side. “It’s the cells,” she said as she slowly moved down the hallway. At the first set of cells she turned to her left.

  Standing at the transparent door was Private Incerna, his arm and shoulder wrapped in medical bindings.

  “Got one!” she shouted. “It’s Incerna.” She stepped toward the cell door. “Shara, pass me the keycard.”

  Shara tossed the keycard and Martin caught it in her right hand and immediately pressed it against the access panel. The door slid open and Incerna stepped out.

  “We knew you guys would come,” he said with a smile. “We knew you wouldn’t give up on us.”

  “You guys aren’t getting away from me that easily,” she replied with smile.

  “Daniel is over here!” shouted Yates, a few cells away.

  “Where’s Boles?” asked Shara.

  “He didn’t make it,” replied Incerna. “He tried to take out a guard and escape but one of those face painted—”

  “Damn.” Shara sighed. “But at least that bastard’s not gonna cause anymore problems. LT fucked that guy up.”

  “Good,” replied Incerna.

  Focused, Martin passed the key to Yates as she moved past Daniel’s cell.

  Looking left then right, she moved past each set of cells. With each set of empty cells, she grew more anxious. Her pulsed quickened as the number of cells left shrank. She looked right—

  She let out a breath of relief as she saw Jackson lying in a cell, a medical stasis unit attached to his body at several points. “We got the captain!” she blurted as she moved toward the door.

  It seemed like an eternity for Yates to cover the few meters to Jackson’s cell as she looked through the transparent wall at the unconscious Jackson.

  “Key,” she barked impatiently, her gaze locked on Jackson.

  “I’m here,” said Yates as she reached Martin. “Damn, LT.”

  “Sorry,” she replied. “I just want to make sure he’s okay.” She opened the cell and rushed in.

  Martin knelt next to Jackson. His complexion was pale and his breathing was slow and weak. The stasis unit was providing air through a mask over his face and lines protruded from his arm and neck with monitors on his chest, forehead, and sides. Martin checked Jackson’s pulse. She turned back toward Yates. “He’s alive.”

  “Daniel, get over here!” shouted Yates.

  “On the way,” replied the medic.

  Martin stood and stepped away from Jackson as Daniel began to assess his condition.

  “How is he?” she asked anxiously.

  “He looks stable, Ma’am,” said Daniel. “It looks like they’re keeping him unconscious to keep his respirations and pulse slow…slowing things down so the meds can work…he’s got a fever and…” Daniel slowly rolled Jackson onto his side. “And his back is still pretty tore up.”

  “So is he okay?” asked Martin again.

  “If we can get him onboard Mt. Castra and with the docs, he should be okay.”

  “Then let’s get him out of here,” she replied, activating her comms circuit. “Charlie Oscar, this is Scorpion One. Three packages in hand, request medical team to assist in extract. We’ve got Jackson.”

  ‘Roger, Scorpion,’ came Stone’s voice over the comms circuit. ‘Alpha One, this is Charlie Oscar. Send a medical team to Scorpion’s position.’

  “Where’s Varus?” blurted Martin, her relief at finding Jackson giving way to anger.

  “I don’t know, Ma’am,” replied Daniel. “After the first round of interrogations, he never came back.”

  ‘Roger, Charlie Oscar,’ came Captain Tacitus’ voice over the comms circuit. ‘Medical team in route. Also, we have another Humani officer with us, a Flight Lieutenant Varus.’

  “Yates, stay here and wait for the medical team,” ordered Martin as she started walking toward the exit.

  “Will do, LT,” replied Yates. “Where are you going?”

  “To kill a rat,” she said without turning as she pushed open the door to the cell room.

  Martin limpe
d through the detention center office and into the hallway. The pain in her chest, thigh, ribs, and head pulsed with each jarring step, but her focus was on revenge. She mechanically strode past the medical team as they rushed into the hallway, making her way to the stairs.

  She opened the door to the stairway. “Shit,” she cursed.

  The stairway had collapsed, probably from the blast of a grenade. Shutting the door, she turned toward the elevators. As other Guardsmen moved past her she made her way to the elevator flat. Reaching the elevators, she pressed the down symbol and placed her hand on her sword as she waited for the elevator to arrive.

  As she waited, Sergeant Kilgore stepped beside her.

  “Hey, LT,” he said. “We found a shitload of intel on the fifth floor.”

  “Great,” she replied flatly.

  The elevator door dinged and slid open to expose the broken, bloody, and decapitated body of the Terillian Scout Ranger she had fought moments ago.

  “Shit!” declared Kilgore. “What the fuck happened to him?”

  “Must’ve picked the wrong floor,” she replied as she stepped over the warrior’s body into the elevator. “But at least he wasn’t a fucking traitor.”

  “Where are you going?” asked a confused Kilgore.

  Martin turned to face Kilgore and pressed the symbol for the first floor. As she did, Daemon trotted into the elevator with her. “I’m going to kill a fucking traitor,” she replied, looking up toward Kilgore as the door slid shut.

  ***

  Martin, with Daemon at her side, stepped from the building to the roar of transports and alphas flying overhead, occasionally punctuated by a burst of small arms fire as the battle began to wind down. Looking across the open ground, she saw a group of officers standing at the edge of the transport landing near the lake.