Fatal Containment

Fatal Containment - Chapter 25

Chapter 25

The abandoned mining base was a cold, desolate place, its once bustling corridors now echoing with the silence of years of neglect. Captain Owen Cantrell, flanked by Tyrell and Candice, made his way through the labyrinthine structure, his boots clanging against the metal grating.

They arrived at a massive carved out cave, the remnants of the base's main processing facility, deep withing the asteroid's metal core. Spanning the large cave were bridges that allowed moving people and machinery to different sections of the carve-out. The primary bridge, large enough to drive several machines abreast, connected them to the far side of the structure. On the far, a figure stood, shrouded in the shadows cast by the dim emergency lighting.

"Show yourself," Cantrell demanded, his voice echoing around the volume.

The figure stepped forward, revealing a man of middle age, his face hardened by years of living on the edge of the law. "I'm here, Owen," he said, his voice gruff.

Cantrell nodded, then gestured to Tyrell and Candice. "I have the technology you wanted," he said, his voice cold. "And these are the scientists who developed it."

The man looked at Tyrell and Candice, then back at Cantrell. "I know what you want in return." he asked.

Cantrell took a deep breath, his gaze never leaving the man. "I want the name," he said. "The name of the person who sold out my wife, Elara."

The man's eyes twinkled slightly, but he quickly regained his composure. "What makes you think I have it?" he asked.

"I've done my homework. Your mercenary organization sold her out to the inquisitors fourteen years ago. Elara was a brilliant scientist," he began, his gaze distant as he remembered. "She solved the spacing issues for the acceleration damping process—the process that reduces the effects of inertia on objects and people on modern starships at speed. Without her work, no crew would survive acceleration on a modern starship without being crushed. My Elara gave you that. But the empire, the same empire I had dedicated my life to saw it as a threat to be taken from mankind and hoarded like a treasure."

He paused, swallowing hard as he continued, "They seized her research, discredited her work, and shut her out from the scientific community. She was ostracized, ridiculed, and left with nothing. The empire she had served, the empire she had believed in, the empire we had both given our blood to, turned its back on her."

His voice hardened, "She was driven into depression, and... and she took her own life." The last words were barely a whisper, the pain evident in his voice.

"And you were there." Owen finished.

The man in the shadows was silent for a long moment.

"I agree to your terms," he said.

"Then the technology is yours," Cantrell said, his voice filled with a determination that had been absent for far too long. "But if you can't, or won't yield up the name, then we walk away, and you'll never see this technology again," Owen said, holding up the case that presumably held sets of nanite-fiber implants.

The man was silent for a moment, then nodded. "I have a name," he said. "Irene Brenton."

"Prove it." Cantrell said, but deep in his heart he knew Commodore Brenton was on his list of candidates.

The figure in the shadows shifted, the dim light catching the edge of a cruel smile. "Come now, Owen," he said, his voice a low rumble. "You remember the academy, don't you. You and I were always merciless competitors. So long ago, it was almost another lifetime. Irene was at the academy in the class before ours and you know how well connected she was to the admiralty; her father always had their ear."

He paused; his eyes gleaming in the half-light. "When Elara's work started to gain attention, Irene saw an opportunity to catapult her own career. She had her father convince the senior lords that Elara's technology would give our military a significant advantage, that it needed to be sequestered, controlled. She painted quite the picture of chaos and destruction if it fell into the wrong hands."

The figure chuckled, a cold, humorless sound. "Of course, she didn't mention that she would present it as her own work, eh? Irene had Elara's work erased from publication review, names on papers changed, and soon enough Elara was left with nothing."

Owen's fists clenched at his sides, his anger simmering just below the surface. "And you stood by and let it happen," he said, his voice tight.

The figure shrugged, a casual gesture that belied the gravity of his words. "I am part of the same imperial machine you are, Owen. And besides, the Imperial military machine does all for the greater good, no?"

As the man sent his mercenary soldiers down to the metal bridge, Cantrell felt a simultaneous sense of relief and horror. He would finally have the justice his wife deserved, and he wouldn't let anything stand in his way. He deftly lifted his arm and let fly the case he was carrying, his eyes aglow as the case made a long, lazy arc over the side of the bridge.

The cavernous mining base echoed with the sound of the data case crashing into the depths below. The shadowy figure flinched, his eyes darting to the disappearing case and then back to Owen, a look of disbelief etched on his face.

"If you had taken a stand all those years ago Robert, if you had stood up for what was right, maybe I would be inclined to help you now," he said. "But we each choose our own destiny."

With that, he pulled the trigger on the blaster, the bright beam of energy illuminating the dark cavern. Owen watched Candice slump to the ground with a loud cry. "With all your precognition skill, you didn't see that coming?" Owen mocked. "That's probably what Dr. van Helm sounded like when you shot him in my lab." Owen's eyes were cold with determination to correct the hand fate had dealt him.

"You were supposed to be our champion," Candice cried. "If you loved your wife and wanted to see her research come to life, why are you denying us the same opportunity?"

"Because you tried to murder my crew," he said. "And my oath is to them, not you."

Tyrell gasped, his eyes wide with shock and fear, a look of panic in his eyes as he realized he was likely next. Cantrell swung the energy pistol around until it was pointed at Tyrell's chest.

The shadowy figure stiffened, his gaze flicking between Owen and the blaster. "Don't be a fool, Cantrell," the shadowy man warned, his voice echoing ominously in the cavernous space.

"Am I the fool?" Owen retorted, his grip on the blaster tightening. "Or am I merely meting out justice, as is my right as the avenger?"

"Captain, stop!" Connor shouted from the far side of the bridge.