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Kindred Soldiers, Page 5

John A. Ferguson


  ***

  There had been no other bodies on his way through this top deck. Garret wasn’t sure if this was a good sign or not. The corridor led to the control room. The whole deck's design allowed the crew to go about their duties but at the same time allowed freedom to interact with each other. It was an open plan design and spacious.

  The ship was definitely operating on a skeleton crew. He walked past several stations operating through automation rather than a crewmember. Many modern ships could operate under computer control. Computer programs carried out standard functions; advanced processors made it possible for software to learn and adapt independently. However, in a more intense and tactical situation the human touch could not be replaced, or in this case, the Seridian touch.

  It was clear the ship was not intending to do anything to arduous. It was simply on a voyage of transportation but Garret could not understand why a political figure would be travelling in such a manner.

  His hand was still holding his kukri blade. His senses had heightened as he was running out of space between himself and the control room. As he walked, he had noticed a slight shudder echoing through the metallic structure of the ship. He assumed that something had perhaps impacted on the exterior hull, although the noise was relatively minor and so he made the assumption that it must had been some form of small space debris.

  He finally reached the control room. There were two seats positioned at the front clearly designed for a pilot and a navigator. The left seat was facing Garret as he walked in. Its occupant, most likely the pilot, sat lifeless in the chair. He was killed like all the others, very easily with a punctured throat. There was another body on the floor at the foot of the right sided chair but from his position, Garret could not see how this Seridian met his end. The chair was not turned around as the other had been; it remained forward facing and although a bulky seat, Garret could see it was occupied. At last, he had found the silent killer.

  Nothing really changed in Garret's stance or composure. He knew a test of his own skill was at hand but the thought did not excite nor scare him. It was simply a logical conclusion to the current mission. In truth, nothing really scared Garret. Fear was never an emotion that he was familiar with, he could not remember the last time he had experienced it. At times, he wished that it had been his military training that had successfully driven the emotion from his mind; hoping he had been somehow mentally broken and rebuilt as an effective killing machine. However, he knew the truth. His life had been filled with death and destruction. It was such a part of his existence that he accepted it as normal. One day I will be dead and there was no point in fearing the end.

  "You are human?" The words were spoken in the main language of the Seridian nation.

  Garret recognised the phrase. He was hesitant to respond to the voice without seeing the speaker face to face first, but relented hoping he could find some answers to explain this ghost ship. "I am yes." He kept his response short knowing this his comprehension of the Seridian tongue was limited to basic communication.

  Slowly the chair started to spin around; Garret allowed his body to become lose and relaxed. He had already identified all the key features in the room, the extended computer panels which sprouted out from the wall; all the objects he could utilise in a fight; the knowledge of his surroundings could prove vital in a fight to the death. The Seridian began to speak but he no longer used his own native language and instead spoke in English. "I have never spoken to a human before. I am very familiar with your species though."

  Garret was surprised how well the grey-skinned humanoid spoke in the standard colonial language. It was heavily accented but he appeared to be confident in its use. Garret did not move any closer and instead chose to continue the conversation from his present position. "I am very familiar with you Seridians as well."

  "I am sure you are. I am sure we share a similar approach to biological functions. It's what makes us more efficient killers." The Seridian smiled as he sensed he was standing before a very similar soul to his own. He was wearing very plain clothing; it was similar to loose oriental garments that Garret associated with a Japanese style, designed for close combat. The Seridian did not carry any other weapon apart from a hand knife, the weapon used to kill everyone else onboard. "You have questions I am sure?"

  "Your ship is in Earth territory, and you have killed the passengers." His words were statements of fact; he was building to the question but before it had left his lips, the Seridian had responded.

  "I am sure you have identified the passenger who was my main target. Her name was Kilianne. She was the leader of the main opposition party to the Seridian Government. She was on route to your Government as a defector. My instructions were clear and simple, she had to be stopped and used as an example to our people of what would happen to traitors."

  "You tortured her?" Garret asked. He did not appear disgusted in anyway, he simply wanted the facts right in his mind.

  "I do not approve of torture, but I am a soldier just as you are. My orders were to carry out the torture and execution. My superiors wished to have it documented and a DNA sample to prove that she was in fact dead. I thought her heart would be a most satisfactory trophy for them."

  Garret nodded, he approved of the Seridian's technique, and if his orders had been the same, he would have probably done a similar thing. He stood staring at the Seridian, and despite the grey skin, the raised ridge down the central line of his body and his piercing green eyes, Garret recognised so much of himself in the alien before him. They were made in the same mould. Highly trained soldiers but possessing a deep dark side to their nature. They operated under the disguise of duty but it was a smokescreen for them doing what they were bread to do. They were natural born killers, both hunters ready to kill should it suit their needs. "You know I can't let you leave this ship?"

  "I understand my friend." The Seridian stood up from his chair, his knife was drawn and ready for combat.

  Garret did not fight in a set technique, nor did he maintain rigid stances. In some ways he looked like a brawler but there was an intelligence in the way fought. He was surprised though how the Seridian choose to begin. The grey-skinned alien stood before Garret and bowed at him. Garret returned the gesture. He continued to be astonished, and unnerved, by how much both species shared a common practice. There seemed little reason why they should be at war. Nevertheless, at this time and place, they were enemies and now they were going to fight.

  The Seridian lunged forward; he was not well built with large muscles. His body structure resembled Garret's own, toned and built for endurance. Garret parried the attack very easily. He did not appear to move much but his hands turned the Seridian's momentum against him sending the alien crumbling to the ground. Garret did not underestimate his opponent with this first movement. He could tell it was nothing more than a test.

  The Seridian flipped onto his feet in an instant and he was back facing Garret. The advance of killing movements began. The Seridian used his knife almost an extension of his hand. It waved in front of Garret's face moving in multiple directions, left and right, up and down, moving forward to make killing blows whenever the opportunity arose. Each swipe countered with Garret's own curved blade. The movements appeared as a finely choreographed dance yet its movements and steps were improvised with the sole intention of one man ending the other's life. Neither appeared to have the upper hand. It became a frustrating exhibit of knife play concluding when the Seridian landed a kick into Garret chest sending him crashing backwards.

  In the instant he landed, he was immediately on his feet running towards the Seridian. He gained height to a jump placing his foot on the Seridian's slightly bent knee and his fist crushed down onto the side of the alien's face. The blow sent the Seridian to his knees and he fell backward, there was a moment of exposure which Garret was able to slice his blade across the Seridian's chest. The strike was enough to cut through the clothing and rip into the grey flesh. Garret had drawn the first
blood.

  It did not deter the Seridian and he replied by blocking the bladed hand from making further damage and managing to loosen Garret's grip on the weapon. The momentum sent the curved knife flying from his hand. The Seridian had also managed to remove the second standard military knife from Garret's combat uniform.

  Garret found himself at a disadvantage but he did not change his approach. The Seridian moved in trying to land the blow that would allow him to leave the ship once and for all. He cut with Garret's own blade which had been removed from his chest scabbard. The knife sliced his arm he used to block the weapon from causing a fatal wound. This was followed up with the Seridian's own unique blade which impacted on Garret's other arm with similar effect. The Seridian knife cut a little deeper, if Garret had not been immersed in the battle he might have admired the effective sharp edge the weapon had. His mind did not register the pain and so it did not slow him down in retaliating.

  Garret attacked through the centre line seeing his opening, he punched the chest and face of his opponent finishing off with a straight finger poke into the Seridian's throat. For a moment, he thought he had the upper hand and that victory was soon to be his; but he had not noticed the small device which had fallen to their sides. It was round and at first sight, Garret recognised instantly what it was.

  There was an explosion and then there was darkness.

  ***

  At first, there were only voices.

  "How did he escape?"

  "He managed to break out of the handcuffs, he killed..."

  Garret was regaining consciousness but he was not fully aware of everything yet.

  "He managed to get into one of our single seat fighters."

  "...must be a special operative."

  The parts of the conversation made little sense to Garret but eventually his eyes opened and focussed in on the man sitting in front of him. He knew instantly where he was, yet he had no memory of being taken into this room. It was an interrogation cell onboard a large earth military ship. A deep serious voice spoke to him. The tone was angry and spoke with someone who appeared to control a lot of authority with it. "You are on board the ECCS Loki, and you Corporal Kayne have got involved in something that is substantially above your pay grade."

  Garret initially tried to free his hands but became aware that they were bound behind him by metallic restraints. "Why am I being held prisoner?"

  The man, who was wearing a suit rather than a uniform, placed Garret's kukri blade on the table in front of him. He drew the weapon from his sheaf and revealed a blade covered in fresh Seridian blood. "This is your weapon? It's not a standard military issue for a foot soldier. Do you think of yourself as some kind of special fighter, perhaps you have ideas beyond your role?"

  "Yes the weapon is mine; it is a personal possession and far more effective than the standard military straight blades." Garret did not respond to the other accusations the mysterious man was making.

  "You were the only survivor of your unit to return from Helgator Prime. I am sure that has had an effect on you. That Seridian ship was carrying a special person onboard. She was defecting to our side. The information she had, could have helped stop this war once and for all. You boarded that ship didn’t you? You encountered your enemy and rather than listen to them you decided to satisfy your own blood lust?"

  "What?"

  "Your weapon is covered in their blood. I have all the evidence I need to crucify you. You are a monster Garret Kayne." The man picked the knife up and started to place it back in the scabbard.

  "Stop!" Garret shouted. "The blade should never be placed back in its cover without drawing blood."

  The man laughed thinking how absurd Garret's words were. "The words of a mad man." He continued to slide the weapon in. "I am going to destroy you son, what do you think about that?"

  Garret smiled and suddenly he jumped across the table, his hand had become free from the shackles that had held him. He pulled the kukri blade out of its scabbard before the man had managed to place it fully on. He moved with such grace and elegance, he was too fast and too skilful for his accuser to react. He sliced the weapon across the man's cheek instantly drawing red blood; it flowed freely from the wound dripping onto the table. The man screeched with pain of it all. Garret then brought the weapon around to hold it to his defenceless victim's throat, and then whispered into his ear. "I seriously doubt it my friend, and for your sake, you better hope I'm not mad."

  -THE END-