Chapter 18 #2
The Signet commandos shifted in their harnesses.
Most were hardened, loyal fighters, but it was the four at the front who carried the heft of the group’s myth.
Santi crouched nearest the forward ramp, strapped into his harness, breath slow. Beside him, Kaal and Zev checked their forearm blades and ghostcasters.
Boaz leaned against the wall, shoulders rolled back, calm as a mountain before a storm.
A flicker of light pulsed in their neural nodes, signaling from Miral.
‘All right, ninos,’ Santi rasped. ‘Two minutes to breach.’
He tapped the side of his helmet, and the HUD synced to the Widow’s hull schematics, courtesy of Miral’s mid-flight hack.
They were going in at midship, where the external plating had weakened due to micro-meteoroid scarring.
‘One clean shot with a one-two punch and we’re through. Masks on. Comm silence once we cross the threshold.’
Santi unsnapped his harness and moved to the portal. The air hissed with decompression as the magnetic clamps clung to the Widow’s flank.
With a thud, the breach torpedo deployed, a white-hot cylinder that slammed into the Red Skull vessel and burrowed in.
Then, BOOM.
The external shell ruptured with a thunderous crack. Metal screamed as the torpedo’s core vaporized a perfect ring through the Widow’s side.
‘Go!’ Santi barked.
He surged forward, the Signet strong guard close on his heels.
In the dim smoke of the enemy’s corridors, he shifted. His muscles rippled, bones whispering as they flexed and grew.
A violet shimmer of spectral fire crawled over his flesh, coalescing into the fierce outline of a wolf-shaped aura that clung to him like a second skin.
His fangs lengthened. His breath steamed.
To his right, Zev and Boaz burst into their bear-wraith forms, hulking shadows of armored muscle with glowing silver eyes, their roars deafening.
Kaal, silent and quick, melted into a flickering silhouette of cold blue flame, his spectral form dancing along the walls like a whisper of ice.
Gunfire erupted from the Red Skull crew.
Slugs tore through the air. Blades clashed.
Santi was already moving.
With a feral snarl, he leapt toward the first wave of defenders, two pirate capos wielding arc-rifles and serrated vibro-axes.
He dropped, slid beneath their fire, and rose with a howl.
His spectral wolf snapped outward, smashing them both into the corridor.
The impact knocked one out cold. The other tried to rise, only to be crushed under Zev’s stomping wraith-bear form.
‘Push forward!’ Santi shouted.
They carved through the decks, booby-trapped passages, ambush zones, and plasma turrets hidden in bulkheads.
But the strong guard was relentless. Boaz stormed the lower levels, flinging three capos through the air like twigs.
Kaal moved through locked doors like vapor, striking and vanishing before bodies hit the floor.
They ascended the central shaft to the bridge.
The last corridor was a bloodbath.
Ten elite Red Skull guards waited behind electric screens.
A hailstorm of bullets and ion fire met them, but Santi burst forward, his spectral wolf charging like a battering ram.
He tackled one of the barricades himself, blasting it into rubble, and the strong guard poured through the opening like divine judgment.
It was over in minutes.
Smoke curled through the shattered cockpit.
Consoles sparked. A body twitched on the floor.
‘We’ve hit paydirt, brothers,’ Kaal growled, jerking his chin toward a man kneeling at the helm with his hands raised.
A shock baton rolled from his grasp. He was broad-shouldered, bald, with a cruelly slashed jaw and eyes that gleamed like knives.
Santi approached slowly, chest still heaving, eyes raking the stranger’s face.
A Synth ID flickered in his mind, provided by Miral.
Captain Drew Vargus.
A high-priority fugitive. Former merc commander. A rumored Red Skull senior capo and chief of the Crimson Widow.
‘You Signet dogs think you’ve won?’ Vargus spat blood, grinning. ‘You’ve only stepped into the game now.’
Santi crouched before him, violet glow still burning in his eyes.
‘Nada, Vargus. We’ve just started playing our way.’
The Xo gave Zev, who shackled and cuffed the kinai.
The bridge was theirs, The Widow, subdued.
The mission was a success, executed with panache.
However, in Santi’s gut, a cold unease settled.
Because Drew Vargus hadn’t fought to the death.
He’d surrendered too easily.
Santi needed to find out why.
The rear deck bay was colder than necessary, a deliberate setting.
The polished obsidian walls hummed, rigged with pulse-suppressing fields and surveillance nullifiers.
Santi stood with his arms folded, legs braced, staring down at the Red Skull captain now strapped into a magnetic restraint chair.
Drew Vargus sat in it, blood crusted along his temple, his jacket stripped down to a gray under tunic stained with plasma soot.
His jaw was bruised, one eye swollen, still, the bastard smirked.
Boaz and Kaal flanked the room, silent and watchful, while Zev loomed in the shadows, alert for action. The room felt caged with energy.
Santi stepped forward, the clang of his boots the only sound in the silence.
‘Start talking,’ he said, voice a rolling thunder. ‘What was The Widow doing this close to our perimeter?’
Vargus’ lip curled. ‘Just a hungry old bird driftin’ where the stars take her.’
‘Cut the shit.’
A pause. Then a laugh. A slow, rasping chuckle that crawled under the skin.
‘You’re asking the wrong question, Signet lupo.’
Santi’s jaw ticked.
Vargus lifted his eyes, the amusement behind them sharpened to something more malevolent.
‘You think we stumbled into your space like idiots?’ He leaned forward as far as the restraints allowed, grinning with bloodied teeth. ‘Nada. While you were looking at us, we were making our move.’
Santi’s eyes narrowed. The room crackled with sudden tension. ‘The fokk?’
Vargus inhaled, then whispered with sneering malevolence. ‘The scarlet bird flies.’
Silence fell, ice-cold and thick.
Santi’s gut clenched. ‘What did you say?’
Vargus grinned wider, his eyes now gleaming with manic satisfaction. ‘Too late now, isn’t it? You were so focused on the snarling dog, nobody took note when the ruby fox slipped into the hen house.’
Kaal stiffened. ‘You’re saying this op was just bait?’
Vargus shrugged as best as the restraints allowed, still riding that twisted high. ‘Smoke and mirrors, boys. Sleight of hand. The Widow was meant to bleed, to be captured. All so she could fly. And glide she will with red wings, slicing through the dark.’
Santi’s heart was thundering now, mind already racing. His eyes snapped to Kaal.
‘We need Miral. Now.’
He turned back to Vargus. ‘Who is the scarlet bird?’
Vargus laughed and leaned his head back against the chair.
His eyes fluttered closed in euphoria, a madman who had delivered his riddle and found peace in the chaos it would bring.
‘All I can say is that she sings, boys,’ he murmured. ‘And when she does, she sets the captives free.’