Star Runners: Mission Wraith

Prologue-2

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she said, her voice soft. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

Gree adjusted his shirt. “Not at all. I was just leaving.”

“Dr. Gree,” she said, tilting her head. “Mind if I call you Fadre?”

“Sure.”

“You asked me a few weeks ago if I would like to go for a drink after work.” She stared at the floor. “I feel I owe you an apology.”

Shifting his weight, he shook his head and moved around her. “No apology needed. I understand not mixing business with pleasure. I really should be—”

Pushing a strand of her blonde hair over her right ear, Ula held her arm in front of him. “I’m trying to say I was interested. I shouldn’t have shot you down that day.” She fiddled with her hands. “I really need to talk to someone. I’m in some trouble and, well, I don’t really know where I can turn.”

The clock was ticking. He needed to send the images stored in his implant. But avoiding a coworker might seem suspicious, and he didn’t need any reason to draw attention to himself.

“Okay, Ula,” he said, trying to sound like he cared. “Where would you like to go?”

“There’s a bar here in this installation. Street side, though. What do you think?”

“I think it sounds great.” He raised his hand toward the door. “Lead the way.”

She strolled through the brightly lit corridors of the Zahlian research facility. She nodded as they passed other engineers and scientists still wearing black lab coats. Marine guards stood at two doors they passed, their cold stares sending a shiver through his core.

If they only knew what I had stored in my implant.

Shaking away thoughts of capture and torture, Gree feigned a pleasant smile as he passed two Marines and followed Ula into the elevator. She grinned sheepishly, pressing an elevator button. The door pinged and started to slide shut.

“Hold it! Please!” a voice yelled from the corridor.

Gree looked up. Dr. Bren, or Popper, sprinted down the hall, his skin glistening with sweat. He burst into the elevator like a gust of the wind in a storm, collapsing against the wall.

“Thanks!” he gasped. “I didn’t want to have to wait another twenty minutes for the next elevator, and I’m ready to get out of here.”

“No problem,” Ula said in a soft voice, “what floor?”

Bren glanced at both of them. “Am I interrupting something?”

She shook her head. “Of course not.”

He sighed, appearing relieved. “I’m heading topside.”

“Very well.”

Ula pressed the button, and the doors slid shut. After a moment, the elevator deep inside Claria accelerated, traveling away from the hidden research station. Gree stared at the levels changing on the LED display above the door, lost in thought.

So, Legion Intelligence had been right to send him here. Rumors of the Zahlian war faction were true. More than that, the war faction had created an advanced prototype fighter with potentially deadly consequences to the Legion fleet. From what he knew of the Legion’s naval abilities, the Wraith would be able to render the Tridents obsolete. He had the only evidence this prototype fighter existed. He had to send this information.

Gree sighed, bouncing on his heels. Couldn’t this elevator move faster?

He closed his eyes and rolled his head around, relishing in the feeling of release as the joints popped.

A blunt force struck his face.

Gree tumbled back against the wall then slid to the floor, his nose gushing. His eyes blurred with water. He brought his hands to his face, confused as to what had just happened. He saw Ula attacking Bren. Her body spun, hands and feet pummeling the doctor into the wall. She grabbed the back of his head and smashed it against the door. At the same time, she punched the emergency stop. The lights shifted to a blood red. The elevator halted.

Shaking his head, Gree sat up. Before he knew it, Ula grabbed him by the collar and yanked him to his feet. She pulled a spray bottle from her bag, launching a concentrated neon-yellow mist into two corners of the elevator car. The walls dripped with a bright mix of red and vibrant golden streams.

Gree glanced at Bren’s crumpled body—still and bloodied.

Ula pulled him close, so close her breath warmed his face as she spoke.

“They know,” she hissed.

Ice shot through his chest. “What do—”

“Don’t,” she said, placing her finger over his mouth. She glanced at Bren’s body. “He came here to kill you. It took them time to trace the signal, but they detected your implant when you activated it near the ship.”

“I don’t know—”

“You’re wasting time!” Ula snapped. She jumped up, grabbing a handle on the ceiling. When she dropped, the elevator’s service hatch unlatched and a ladder descended. “I’ve disabled the cameras, but we need to move. Now!”

Gree stared at her, his heart thumping.

“I understand,” he said, pulling the ladder to the floor. He slipped his bag around his back. “What’s the plan?”

“It won’t take them long to override the emergency stop. We need to switch elevators and go to the roof.”

“All the way to the top?” he asked, reaching the hatch and turning around to Ula.

“You have a launcher to take your images off world, yes?” She gestured at the ceiling. “Away from this jamming?”

Gree nodded, helping her through the hatch, his mind racing at the fact this woman knew about his mission. “How do you know all this? Who are you?”

“Your backup,” she said, searching the elevator tube. She peered over the edge. “One’s coming. Get ready to jump.”

“Are you crazy?”

She stared at him, her black eyes cold. “You’d rather wait for them to find you?”

Shaking his head, peered down the elevator shaft, saw the other car coming. “What’s our exit strategy?”

“There is none.”

Gree shot her a glance, but she didn’t look back. He opened his mouth to object but realized she was right. Whatever his mission had been, whatever he had hoped to accomplish, had ended the moment Bren attacked him.

The elevator car neared, moving faster than he thought they could handle.

“Maybe we should—”

“Jump!”

They leaped across the shaft onto the car. The collision shocked him, the metal crashing against his body. He shook his head as his vision darkened. He rolled over on his back. Wind touched his face as the car accelerated upward. Lights played across the roof as they passed the building’s levels.

“Are you okay?” Ula asked.

Gree looked at her. A vicious gash above her left eye spilt blood down her cheek. “Are you?”

She touched her face. “Yeah.”

He probed his forehead and felt a lump growing, courtesy of the metal roof.

Ula surveyed her surroundings. “I don’t think they knew about me, but I knew they had you when Bren charged into our elevator.”

“I was told the implant couldn’t be detected.”

“You were told wrong.”

“Are we all there is?”

“I believe there is another.” She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter now.”

Ula pulled up her pant leg, exposing her calf. She squeezed the skin. The muscle glowed an emerald-green and opened. Pulling out a pistol not much bigger than a pen, she grinned. “When we get to the top, your job is to launch that image into space. No gamma wave will transmit from this building—it has to be sent into space.”

“I know.” Gree gripped his bag. “What are you going to do?”

“Give you the time.”

He gestured toward the tiny weapon in her hand. “With that? You won’t last long.”

She offered a lopsided grin. “You better hurry, then.”

They traveled for thirty seconds. Gree looked up. He’d just seen the metal rafters above when the elevator screeched to a halt.

“What happened?” he asked, standing as if the elevator would resume its sudden ascent.

Ula glanced around, her small pistol in hand. She nodded behind him. “Jump off. We walk the rest of the way.”

Gree turned. A steel staircase inside the shaft led the remaining distance to the roof. He jumped to the stairs, his boots clanging on the grating. He turned around to help Ula. She waved him off.

“Just move!” she snapped, glancing back. “No matter what happens—you get that message sent!”

Gree started to ask what she meant but noticed movement below.

Another elevator car sped toward them. Fast.

Spinning around, he tightened the bag’s strap and ran. He heard Ula’s quick footsteps behind him. He skipped a step, then two, his leg muscles burning as he increased his speed. He rounded a floor, ascending closer to the roof.

A laser blast flashed by him, illuminating the shaft like a strobe. Two shots followed.

Sweat poured down his face and dripped off his nose. He rounded another floor and paused. Blocking his path was a metal door with red lettering: AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ENTRY ONLY.

The roof.

He clutched his bag’s strap and sprinted forward. Lowering his shoulder, he lunged for the door. His shoulder flashed with pain as he bounced back from the immovable barrier. He pounded on the door and kicked the steel.

“Move!”

Gree turned. Ula stood at the pinnacle of the stairs, a fresh laser burn sizzling into her upper arm. She held out the small weapon, aiming at the top of the door. She fired, the laser’s light flashing in the dim corridor. Sparks flew down on his head. She fired twice more. He flinched but saw the hinges had melted.

He stood, reared back, and kicked.

The door fell forward. A gust of wind howled through the opening.

“Hurry!” Ula yelled. “Go!”

He sprinted onto the roof and into the daylight. Claria’s space station dominated the heavens, visible even on a cloudless day. A massive Zahlian capital ship orbited the installation.

Zone Ninety’s urban cityscape surrounded the building on all sides, the skyline stretching to the distant sea. Wind blasts nearly knocked him off his feet as he ran across the rooftop. As an explosion boomed from behind him, he tried to ignore the realization of being more than three thousand feet above the ground and looked for a spot to set up the launcher.

He crouched behind an junction box, whipping the bag around and opening it in one motion.

Ula limped next to him and fell with her back against the box. “How long do you need?”

He pulled the cylinder apart like a telescope. “A few minutes.”

She coughed. “I can give you that.”

Gree glanced at her and saw laser wounds on her arm and leg, sweat drenching her shirt. He bit his lip, trying to focus on the launcher. Just as he had practiced countless times in training, the four-foot device extended from the rooftop, the silver missile glistening in the light. He reached to touch his elbow, found the implant, and squeezed hard.

His skin burned and sizzled. The odor of burning flesh filled the air. He winced. Once he heard the loud buzzing alarm, he ripped back his skin and screamed, freeing the implant from his arm. Ignoring the pain, he opened the transmission pocket on the launcher and keyed in the coordinates. Once the missile traveled beyond the building’s jamming effects and reached the upper atmosphere, the message would begin its transmission via Whisper to the closest Legion post.

Ula fired her laser and crouched. “You done already?”

“Twenty seconds to launch!”

She smiled. “You did good, Dr. Gree.”

Their eyes met. He touched her knee and patted it once.

Laser fire splattered against the junction box. Sparks erupted skyward. Ula stood to return fire. Bolts exploded into her chest, spinning her around like a top. Her body crumpled to the roof, lifeless.

Keeping low, Gree crawled to her. He turned her over and saw tiny fires burning into her body. She wasn’t breathing. He grabbed her pistol and glanced back.

Two Marines emerged from the charred doorway, their blaster rifles trained in his direction.

Here we go, Gree thought.

He turned back to the launcher, rechecking the coordinates. A few more seconds and he would finish the launch prep.

Gripping the compact pistol, he leaned against the box. He panted as cold sweat covered his clammy skin. He glanced at the brilliant blue sky. Fighting back nausea, he emerged from his cover and fired.

He squeezed off two shots, one striking an attacker in the leg before the return blasts hit him. His chest flashed with pain, the force knocking him to the rooftop. He remained on his back, the sound around him muffling. The missile’s hiss transformed into a roar. With a whoosh, it propelled high into the air.

He smiled, watching it soar. Laser fire filled the sky, but the bolts didn’t find their mark. After another two seconds, the missile vanished, leaving only a white trail behind it.

“We did it,” he said, rising from the rooftop. “Ula.”

He dragged himself to her, ignoring the fact he’d left his cover. Her eyes remained focused on the heavens.

Gree looked to the door as more armed Marines poured from the elevator shaft. Their red armor reflected the light, splintering flashes of crimson across the rooftop. There was only one thing he could do.

He raised the pistol and fired.

The rooftop ignited, filling his vision with sparks, lethal fire, and darkness.

The compact missile reached supersonic speeds as it ascended away from Zone Ninety and through the atmosphere. The air thinned, and the temperature dropped as the projectile transitioned into deep orbit.

No one saw the tiny missile as it passed Claria’s spaceport.

A sensor operator aboard the Zahlian All-purpose Response Cruiser, Dauntless, momentarily detected it, but could not achieve a lock. As a result, Regional Governor Knox Tulin, who utilized the Dauntless as his flagship, was not told of the incident until hours later.

The Legion agent’s missile surpassed the final patrolling Zahlian Interceptors and ran out of fuel. Away from any electronic jamming pumped into the air by Zahlian forces, the video transmission started and repeated until the missile ran out of battery power hours later.

Light years away, a Legion listening post awaited information from their team. Video captured of the Wraith was downloaded, copied, and sent to the highest levels of Legion Command.