Date Point: 3Y 8M AV
New Askitoria, the Outer Cluster
“For the record, I still hate that name,” Chir told the little Corti as they reassembled in the privacy of the castle ‘vault’, Keffa and Darragh adding their number to the little group.
Darragh raised his hand. “For the record, I’d like to second that.”
“This isn’t a vote,” Askit told them. “If it was a vote, I would still win, because I have complete control over every system on this base.”
Chir glared at the arrogant little Corti, probably the most self-obsessed and… he hesitated to use the word ‘sassy’ Corti he’d ever met, and he didn’t much like the fact that the little grey man effectively had total control over the base. “You will not abuse your power over these systems any further than I have already allowed you to.”
Askit waved a hand airily. “We’re not here to talk about my transgressions, Base Commander. We’re here to talk about the likely suspects for our second spy.”
Keffa shook her head. “I still don’t understand what the problem is. You know Grznk is a spy and yet you don’t have any issues with him, what’s the difference with this other person?”
Chir sighed, reminding himself that in spite of her size and her fierce attitude, Keffa was still very young by the standards of her species. “We know who Grznk is, have an idea who he works for, and we can control the information he receives. This other agent could be anyone, and could work for anyone. They had listening devices in my office, so who knows what kind of information they could have had access to?”
“Well, at least we can rule out the Celzi,” Darragh noted, and raised an eyebrow when everybody turned to him to explain. “If it were the Alliance, they’d already be kicking down our door. So it seems to me that it’s either somebody who wants to keep an eye on us, or to predict us for other reasons.”
That was more logic that Chir had ever heard out of Darragh, and he wondered if maybe the human had been keeping a reserve of it for just such an occasion. He decided to press his luck and see just how far this sudden stroke of intellect could take them. “But who could want to keep an eye on us like that?”
Keffa frowned. “What about this ‘Hierarchy’ lot I’ve been hearing so much about lately?”
“It’s possible,” Chir conceded. “We know next to nothing about them, aside from their use of beyond cutting-edge technologies and their employment of the Allebenellin.”
“Adrian and I met one of the Hierarchy aboard one of their starships,” Askit told them, although it was news to nobody present. “They did not seem so subtle at the time, but it is probable that their behind-the-scenes work is very much at play.”
Chir didn’t want to think about the possibility that somebody was working for the Hierarchy after the brutal conflict that had occurred on Cimbrean, even though he knew that there was no way he could have prevented that from happening if the spies knew even a fraction of their craft.
Darragh didn’t seem convinced. “Given what they did to Cimbrean, I doubt they’d just sit back while we build our strength again. If they’re getting information about our location, then I think it likely that those fecking bastards are on their way.”
“It may also be that after two significant defeats they have opted for a subtle approach,” Askit replied. He didn’t seem to want to give up on the possibility of Hierarchy involvement.
The discussion was getting away from the point, so Chir decided to bring it back. “First we should determine likely suspects.”
“Could be an inside job,” Darragh suggested. “Someone who works for you and has a lot of access to the room.”
That could mean quite a few people, Chir thought. His janitors, his maintenance crew, and of course Layla. “I can’t believe that it could be my personal assistant,” he said, “but there are several others.”
“Your assistant is a Gaoian female, isn’t she?” Keffa asked, clearly suspicious. “She could be deceiving you with her feminine wiles.”
Chir cast his blackest glare her way. “Female Gaoians are not inclined to engage in that sort of behaviour!”
“That’s what you think, anyway,” she replied curtly.
Chir growled. “That is what I know! Think of someone else.”
“Give me the names of everyone who works in this building,” Askit told him. “I will investigate their electronic activities. Is there anybody you suspect?”
“The night guards,” Chir decided after some thought. “They would have full access to the office with no oversight.”
Keffa frowned. “Those men were trained by Zripob. “
“And what is that supposed to mean?” Darragh asked. “You know he only cares about money and himself.”
Chir felt he should disagree but what the human male said was not incorrect; Zripob may regard someone as a friend but to him that friendship stopped where threats to his life and wealth began. It was a fact of the Chehnash that they held a very rudimentary sense of morality, and that this often caused friction with other species. Those same species often found it surprising to learn there was little personal offence taken by a Chehnasho over efforts made to undo him, as he’d understand the simple reasons behind it. He might even consider a serious attempt as a sign of respect, although that would do nothing to lessen his reprisal should he be in a position to strike back.
“It just doesn’t seem likely that he wouldn’t have spotted a spy,” Keffa sulked. She had built a solid working relationship with the Fleet Commander soon after arriving and had been giving over a percentage of her earnings in order to be first to get to the salvage produced by the battles.
It had been a lucrative venture for both of them, and one that improved performance of the operation enough for Chir to leave it be, but now he suspected the human of attributing qualities to Zripob that he simply didn’t have.
“I fear that Zripob is not quite so discerning as you imagine,” he mused. “Outside the field of battle he could be quite fallible.”
“I will inspect them all,” Askit decided. “When I have the culprit I shall inform you all, and we shall rely on the humans to apprehend the spy.”
“What about my guards?” Chir asked. “They can’t all be compromised.”
“No guards,” Askit replied sharply. “They may not be spies but they could still leak information about our activities. Right now our spy knows we’re looking, so our best bet is to make it look as though we’ve leapt to the obvious conclusion. We pretend to believe it was Grznk.”
“So that we have the ability to continue our investigation in secret,” Chir said approvingly; the Corti was proving as skilled as any of his kind at hatching a cunning plan. “Very good. I will have him arrested by the regular guards so that it becomes widely known.”
“No,” Askit objected. “Use the humans and let them appear to be doing this in secret. Ensure that they are spotted in the act and word will get around fast enough.”
“We’re not just going to act like secret police,” Darragh protested indignantly.
“Yeah,” Keffa agreed with equal indignation. “We want to be paid for it.”
+++++
Record 573-Black-01 +Recovered from C11-Orange-712-Yellow-6+
“This is great… the picture is like… ultra high definition! It even has a dynamo!” the recipient of the gift exclaimed, whirling it around to record his smiling parents. “Best. Birthday. Ever.”
“I’m glad you think so, Ahred,” the largest of the family members replied, stepping forward from the rest of the family. “Want your old man to show you how to use it?”
The recording shies away from the large, hairy biped. “No, I think I can manage on my own, thanks Pa.”
“Well,” the father replied uncertainly, “if you’re sure…”
“I am,” Ahred insisted, swinging the camera around to look around the small, sparsely decorated house and out the window that overlooked the busy streets where military vehicles continued to rumble through the city’s main thoroughfares. “Armoured vehicles are so awesome!”
“Come away from the window,” a female voice instructed. “It’s not safe there…”
“Let the boy film a little, Maikie!” the father disputes. “You’re only eleven once!”
“Yeah, Ma!” Ahred brightly agreed. “Just once!”
“Yes, but-” Maikie began to protest.
She was interrupted by a flash on the horizon.
“What the-” Ahred said in confusion, pointing his camera at the rising grey-white cloud. “Is that-?”
A rolling thunder began to shake the building, heralding a sweeping wall of debris being pushed along like a black cloud.
“Ahred, get away from the window…” Maikie said distractedly.
“Ahred,” his father repeated more attentively, “get away from the window right-“
The black cloud arrived.
End Record
+++++
Date Point: 3Y 8M AV
New Askitoria, the Outer Cluster
There was a lot to be taken away from the most recent conversation Askit had conducted with his small group of investigators. The main thing was that they were just as stupid as he had hoped, and as a result they hadn’t yet realised that he had gained total control of the base while they looked around for a spy who didn’t actually exist.
Chir had been surprisingly willing to believe that the small, cobbled together piece of scrap had been some sort of advanced listening device, and that it had been hidden within his room. His developing paranoia had allowed Askit to gain the system access he needed to initiate his brilliant plan, as well as the time he needed to set up a small program that would automatically siphon off all of the pirates’ funds over a few days once Askit was free and clear of reprisal.
He was robbing pirates, how wrong could that be?
His only lament was that Adrian was not currently available to be impressed by his cunning, and the amount of manipulation that was going on. Right now Chir and the two humans would do almost as Askit instructed, provided it pertained to base security, and that was developing to include just about everything.
Things had progressed quickly with the incarceration of Doctor Grznk; Askit had been monitoring the messages flying between base personnel, those they stupidly thought were private to them alone, and had seen the rumours quickly escalating. Questions were being raised over what Grznk might have done, and why the regular guards weren’t being used to do the actual arresting, and even more over why it had been done in relative secrecy.
Askit had taken control of Grznk’s own messages, and had compiled an analysis tool that would allow him to create new messages that reflected Grznk’s own writing style, and then he’d be able to send reports back to the Doctor’s masters with the kind of information that he wanted. Mainly the kind of information that was full of lies, misdirection, and bait.
With his level of control over the systems of New Askitoria, Askit would soon be ready to utilise the base’s own systems to compel an evacuation, and by the time Adrian returned from his excursion, they’d be ready to implement the second part of the plan.
The plan to actually attract an assault by the Hierarchy, and to nab somebody who could answer some questions. Perhaps this time Adrian could refrain from blowing their limbs off and avoid getting anybody sucked into a black hole.
“Let’s see,” Askit mused, looking over the range of controls at his command. Gravity, atmosphere, and temperature were all at his command, amongst a myriad of other things of course. “For starters I think this place could benefit from a cold wave!”
He uploaded the small patch he’d created for just that purpose, a piece of revised software that would allow him to set the temperature regardless of what the inhabitants did. He had similar updates for the life support, the kinetics, and every other major system he could locate; nobody thought about the environmental controls as something with potential for weaponisation, but Askit had been around a creatively violent human for long enough to understand that everything could be a weapon.
Today, however, he was going to use that weapon along with the rest in his expansive arsenal, and he was going to use them to steal the biggest thing yet. Bigger than money, bigger than a starship, and bigger than a space station.
He was going to steal New Askitoria.
The theft of an asteroid base was something that even Adrian would have to be impressed by, even if it was technically currently in the possession of people the human considered friends. Pretty soon they wouldn’t want it, though, so that had to count for something.
He only hoped that this acquisition lasted longer than any of their previous ones. It was bigger, denser, and less likely to find itself plunging into a black hole, but Adrian seemed to carry a curse to destroy any vessel he touches. He’d only had Keffa’s ship for a day, but who knew what might have happened to it by now?
The system quickly rebooted itself once the new code was loaded, and Askit set about finding himself something warm in his size. It turned out to be a vacuum suit, which was twice as useful because as everybody knew it wasn’t really cold until the air got thin.
Soon it was going to become very unenjoyable to be everybody else, and the fear and discontent would rise.
All he had to do now was pick a scapegoat.
+++++
Date Point: 3Y 8M 1D AV
Cimbrean Local Space, the Far Reaches
“Gravity spike now!” Adrian roared, rising from the chair he had claimed as his own. The handful of crew – resentful though they may be – had not attempted to take control back during their time of crisis, and were entirely unprepared to challenge Adrian on any decision he had made since doing so. The Russians were in no position to object either, not with one poor pixie dust victim having passed away during the night and the other remaining catatonic. Roman was at least lucid but remained disoriented and was vomiting with regularity, but with half his face swollen up like a grapefruit and covered with a network of bandages constituting a true engineering feat, he wasn’t well placed to take command.
The Hodgepodge lurched suddenly as the gravity spike knocked it out of warp space and put it on a collision course with the small paradise world.
“We have now re-entered normal space,” the Gaoian male completely unnecessarily advised him. His name was Gyotin, and while he claimed to be one of Chir’s men it was also a fact that he regarded Adrian with undisguised animosity and seemed to enjoy being as irritating as possible. “I am now turning off the lights as instructed.”
At least he followed instructions; the gravity spike had killed the warp field but if power was still going to the lighting it meant the FTL would be constantly attempting to re-engage. Adrian had wanted the spike left enabled just in case something went tits up with the lighting controls. He didn’t really think it would, but he was now operating by the creed of being better safe than sorry.
That was why, after administrating his version of medical care, Adrian had put some of the crew to work on outfitting everybody with new vacuum suits. If he was going in blind he didn’t want to be going in airless as well.
“What have we got?” he asked, running an eye over the scan reports. Worryingly, there were no signs of re-development around the site of the old palace… in fact, there was no sign of the palace at all.
That set off his bullshit detector; nobody had just happened along and cleaned up a battlefield. It was sensor cloaked – he was sure of it – and probably hidden as well. Zripob had apparently detected something going on here months ago, and until Adrian learned otherwise he was going to hope for the best. Desperate optimism though it might be, if there were colonists down there then maybe Jen was being well looked after. Right now that meant finding her was secondary to his goals of getting the Russians some real medical attention, and finding someone who could shit out enough of a miracle to put Adrian himself right again.
“No signs of any settlement at the specified location,” Gyotin reported, “Looks like whatever was built there was bombed completely flat… but there is a Celzi Alliance life pod in a remote location on the opposite side of the continent.”
Adrian looked over at the Gaoian sharply; there was no way that some random life pod just happened to be sitting around on the planet “Any life signs at the pod?”
“Yes,” Gyotin replied. “It’s a Class Four world… of course there are life signs. I don’t even need our non-existent planetary life-signs scanner to tell you that much. Would you like me to scan for stone next?”
Conveying his distinct disapproval at the Gaoian’s attitude by way of angry glare, Adrian rose from his chair and began putting on his helmet. “Good one, fuckhead. I’ll be going down in a lander to-“
Gyotin cut him off as a blip hit his console. “We’ve just been scanned…”
That was the first sign of it all turning to shit, and Adrian could guess what would happen next. “Jesus Christ, start hailing for anyone who’ll listen! Tell them we’re friendly!”
He’d hardly finished giving the order when the ship shuddered violently in spite of the kinetics, ringing with the sound of shattering metal that sounded for all the world like heavy weapons fire. Adrian stopped talking and started looking at the growing list of damage alerts instead; five breaches in the hull and several sections venting atmosphere. Damage was limited to non-essential systems if you didn’t count life support and the lander hanger. Neither lander was responding and it looked like the rapidly depleting air was going to run out, so this visit was going to get really interesting.
“Scratch that,” he said, retaking his seat. “Get these arseholes on the line fucking pronto! Everyone suit up and make sure those two fuck heads in medical do the same.”
He ran the scans again, with more focus this time, sweeping local space along with the colony for… there was an energy source on the planet with a warp signature. He didn’t know what it was, but as it hadn’t been there before the Hodgepodge started taking damage he suspected it was the cause. It seemed whoever the colonists were they had a policy of shooting first and probably never bothering with questions.
Maybe Jen wasn’t quite so safe after all.
“Is now a bad time to mention that we are on a crash vector?” Gyotin asked. “Because our engines are too damaged to avert course.”
“God fucking damn it,” Adrian swore. “Can you at least push forward and swing us through a near orbit and out the other side?”
Gyotin worked furiously at his console. “No… the best I can do is give you a choice on where you want to die. This ship will burn up and we’ll die if we enter atmosphere on too deep an angle. We get to die in orbit if we’re too shallow.”
“We’re fucking Goldilocks then,” Adrian grumbled. “Perfect. What’s the prize if we get it just right?”
Gyotin did not appear to be what Adrian might have called optimistic about this outcome. “We get to crash into the ground and die.”
Another shudder rocked the ship, and the power flickered. For one horrible brown-trousers moment absolutely everything – gravity included – had turned off. Adrian was not alone in muttering his thanks when it resumed seconds later, even if it meant they were just going to be able to choose how to die.
“I have good news,” Gyotin said, checking his systems. “We no longer have enough power to strike atmosphere too shallowly.”
“That is not what I’d call good news,” Adrian shot back. “What else have you got for me!?”
“I have an open line,” Gyotin advised in sudden surprise. “They’ve actually responded…”
Adrian checked the communications, confirming that this was indeed the case. “Attention arseholes,” he greeted, not because he thought it was a particularly intelligent thing to open with, and maybe it was the Cruezzir talking, but he simply did not care anymore. “Please stop fucking shooting at us, we are not Alliance. I repeat, we are just a pack of poor fucking bastards in honest need of some god damned help.”
The reply came after a brief pause, voiced by a man with a well defined English accent. “Attention ship – Ceasing fire. You are to proceed as follows: Crouch down, tuck your head between your legs, and kiss your arses goodbye. Sorry.”
Adrian terminated the link with a bestial snarl. “Well, those fucking arseholes weren’t much fucking use, were they? How are we looking on our trajectory, Papa Bear?”
“Are you talking to me?” Gyotin asked, looking up in confusion. “We’ve got a solid trajectory locked in… what in the void is a bear?”
“Big furry animal,” Adrian explained. “Likes honey and salmon.”
Gyotin shook his head and turned back to his console. “This is why everybody thinks humans are so strange…”
“See if you can aim us for some water,” Adrian instructed. “There was an ocean of sorts near the colony, do you think we can hit it?”
The irritable Gaoian growled under his breath, but proceeded as ordered. “Yes, we can hit it. We’ll have burned off a lot of velocity by the time we get there though, so when we drown we’ll be going slow.”
That was good news at least, drowning was better than crashing… probably anyway. “If we can drown we can survive, Papa Bear,” he said, forcing some sort of optimism into his voice.
The ship shuddered as they began entering atmosphere, and the mood on the command deck immediately grew tense and distracted. Everybody was focused on the looming planet below, instead of what would keep them from crashing into it.
“Work!” Adrian shouted, successfully snapping them out of their trance. “Focus on getting us through this. You can look stupid when you’re dead!”
Alerts began firing as the ship started suffering damage to the same sections that had already been damaged. The hull wasn’t aerodynamic at the best of times, and big holes probably weren’t helping the matter. The whole ship shook as a section was ripped away from it, and the shuddering only got worse.
“This is a bad fucking day,” Adrian mused, gripping the arms of the captain’s chair with white knuckles. “Really bad fucking day…”
“Try burning to death,” spat Gyotin. “That might make things a little worse!”
“You focus on getting us to that fucking water!” Adrian ordered him. “A splash is better than a crash in my book.”
“At this kind of speed the water will be solid enough,” Gyotin replied, baring his teeth aggressively. “We’ll crash either way.”
“When I was a boy, we’d skip stones across the lake to hit the boats out on the water,” Adrian recalled. “Could we do that?”
“This is a starship,” Gyotin replied in bewilderment. “They don’t work the same way as rocks.”
Of course they wouldn’t, that idea was stupid anyway; why would a series of impacts be any better than a single one? The ship was basically made of foil, and any kind of impact would tear away big parts they couldn’t afford to lose, and probably send them careening out of control.
The ocean was looming below them, they were dropping fast and losing parts of the ship even faster. “Fuck it, we’ll soften the water then.”
“What are you talking about?” Gyotin asked. “Soft water?”
“Okay, Papa Bear, I need you to punch us forward with as much force as we’ve got left,” Adrian instructed him, along with the rest of the command crew. “Send our projected impact site over to the weapons guy, and launch all missiles. I need them to explode the water just before we hit.”
Gyotin gaped as though this was the stupidest thing he’d ever heard. “That is the stupidest thing I have ever heard,” he asked, confirming it. “Are you… are you attempting to destroy the sea?”
“Not today, mate,” Adrian laughed, giggling like a child in the face of death. “Today I’m just looking to make some waves.”
+++++
New Askitoria, the Outer Cluster
Chir didn’t understand why it was so cold, or why the air had grown so thin, but he knew sabotage when he saw it and this piece had plunged the whole base into crisis. Askit had barely finished informing him about the identity of the spy – a night guard as he’d suspected – when the change in temperature had become noticeable. The air had begun to thin soon after, in spite of every control setting, and Askit had his hands full ensuring it didn’t get any worse.
The saboteur, a Vzk’tk male named Frtltn, claimed absolute ignorance of the whole situation regardless of the piles of messages Askit had harvested from his account. They pointed to Frtltn being a willing traitor, if not an intelligent one, but unfortunately nothing had suggested that Frtltn knew any actual details about the program his masters had instructed him to upload.
“What kind of progress are you making?” he demanded of the Corti for the seventh time. The little computer genius had been solidly busy the whole time and had rebuked Chir each time he was interrupted. This time was different. Askit looked up in worry and hesitated before delivering what could only have been bad news. “The environmental controls are locked out with a randomising key on the file tag. I can’t get control of it without a multi-language development environment with elevated privileges. You don’t have one.”
Chir didn’t understand the first thing the Corti had just said, but he recognised complications when he saw them. “There must be something you can do!”
“That’s not the bad news,” Askit told him, and Chir felt his chest suddenly fill with dread. “All this was just a distraction. The Hierarchy are coming.”
“What!?” Chir gasped. He thought about the situation back on Cavaras and then on Cimbrean, then he thought about the half built defences that had no hope of repelling a dedicated attacker, and about all the people who could die. He thought about Layla…
He had to protect everyone, and with Zripob absent it was up to him alone.
“How long do we have?” he asked. If they had a few days they might be able to get all the reactors firing into the FTL and get clear of the Hierarchy’s wrath.
Askit burst that hope immediately. “No more than two days.”
They were going to have to evacuate. They would have to flee for their lives and hope they could get far enough to avoid the enemy. They would have to abandon everything they’d worked for and hope that it wasn’t all gone when they came back.
If they came back.
Chir growled with frustration and weakly pounded a fist against the wall. “We’re going to have to leave,” he said quietly. “I’ll inform everyone. Can you keep the air from getting any colder or thinner.”
Askit nodded dutifully. “You can rely on me.”
+++++
The Five-Fingers, Pirate Salvage Vessel, Far Reaches
The Hodgepodge was gone, and that was a major problem for Zripob because it wasn’t gone as in having disintegrated from the self-destruct, but it was gone as in simply having left.
That should have been impossible, there should have been no way to disable the self-destruct without also destroying the FTL drive, but the evidence was compelling and it had Adrian Saunders’ name all over it. The man achieved the impossible on a regular basis, so why would it be strange that he had managed to do so yet again?
Zripob had returned a little after schedule, once his long-range scans had no longer detected the presence of the Hodgepodge. He had hoped to find Adrian floating amongst the remains of the ship – alive or dead, it hardly mattered – and then he would have been able to present something to Chir and the others.
In the event that the destructive force had thought to break the FTL drive and had taken control of the ship, Zripob could have simply lied his way out of the situation and recovered control of the Hodgepodge. Then the human could have gone on his way to whatever was going on at Cimbrean – Zripob would put his money on it not being anything good – and he could make it look like he had simply sent in his greatest weapon.
That was why he had told Adrian that story about the guns, in order to guard against the possibility of him being certain about treachery; the last thing Zripob needed was a human of that calibre angry at him.
“Don’t get ahead of yourself, Zripob,” he chided himself. “He may choose to stay amongst his own kind. He is erratic after all.”
It was a possibility, but far from certain.
He opted to wait; there was no reason to rush his decision, not when there was so much to be lost should he make the wrong one, and it would give him a chance to go over the wreckage of the Celzi vessel in earnest and extract data from their computer systems. That was the kind of salvage that could be the most lucrative if you knew where and how to sell it, far more than the metal, plastic and other components that made up the rest of the ship.
And given what this ship had contained, he was sure his buyers would be willing to pay very well indeed.
+++++
Cimbrean, the Far Reaches
The splashdown was a solid demonstration of why seatbelts are a good idea, and the fact that the Hodgepodge was sorely lacking in any such thing was not lost on Adrian as the hull ploughed into the ocean and experienced the rapid deceleration that resulted.
Technically everything had gone according to plan; the missiles detonated just before they made impact and sent up wall of water to slow the ship and part the water enough to make the shock survivable. The ‘landing’ had still retained enough violence to hurl everybody, Adrian included, from their seats and throw them around the command deck in much the same way he remembered from the original series of Star Trek. Many of the consoles had even done a decent job of exploding in exactly the same fashion he recalled from the show, which he supposed made it predictive that regard.
“Well,” Adrian said breathlessly, once everything had stopped shaking and sparking, “looks like all that hard work paid off. Anybody dead?”
Nobody was dead. He had come away from it with number of painful bruises and a literal sinking feeling, and the less robust aliens had come away with more serious injuries, but they were all still alive and while they were still alive there was hope.
“What’s our status?” he asked, checking whatever systems remained operational. Nobody answered with anything but groans, so he looked as the error laden results himself.
The Russians were alive, although in what condition remained to be seen. Lower decks were fully flooded but the ship had either hit bottom or was simply floating, and with no real power running to the kinetic drive they were dead in the water.
“Well, I suppose we could have broken more than that,” he grumbled to himself. “Like our fucking necks.”
He was hailed from the medical ward, and Roman’s voice came through with a buzz of static over the damaged communications system. “You alive, you fucking madman? What did we just hit?”
“We hit a planet,” Adrian informed him. “But the good news is that nobody died.”
“I broke my fucking arm keeping Sergeant Markovitz from bouncing around the room, so you’ll forgive me for not being quite so delighted.”
“We’re in the middle of the deep blue sea right now,” Adrian told him and everybody else not busy focusing on their injuries. “But it’s about one klick to the shoreline. I’ve got a plan to get us there, but everyone is going to need to do their part.”
“What kind of awful plan must we endure this time?” Roman asked bitterly. “Is there something else that requires destroying on a grand scale?”
“Simple,” Adrian said. “We use the kinetic lifters. Have you ever seen Back to the Future?”
Fifteen minutes later and everybody who could still walk was helping everyone who couldn’t onto the lifters brought up from the cargo section under remote control. Adrian himself carried Markovitz while Roman bitched about stupid plans, but everybody appreciated the sunlight and fresh air, even if they were being delivered through a massive hole in the hull.
Despite how pleasant the air was, he still ordered that helmets stay on until they make land. “It’ll let you float and breathe if you fall in the drink. Nobody gets to drown today.”
The coast was distant but visible, and the visual reference between the ship and the waterline let everyone know that it wasn’t finished sinking; the faster they were off this wreck the better.
“Remember that you’ll need power to go over water,” he reminded everyone as they rushed for their allocated platforms. The lifters were limited to carrying things, and needed something else to move them around. Today that something else was a bundle of oars hastily assembled from torn apart furniture.
“What will we do with the fucked up crewmen?” he sang quite merrily as they set off. “What will we do with the fucked up crewmen? What will we do with the fucked up crewmen early in the morning?”
Roman was unimpressed by his dulcet tones. “Fucking hell, you’re destroying that song even faster than you destroyed the starship.”
This raised some black laughter even from Adrian himself. That was good for morale even if the situation remained as bad as it was. “You’re just jealous of my singing voice,” he claimed. “I’ll have you know this voice was in much demand.”
“Perhaps amongst the tone deaf,” Roman replied. “I will show you a real singing voice!”
The Russian breathed in deeply to begin his demonstration, only to vomit all over the inside of his helmet as the pixie dust reasserted itself. This was followed by a string of abuse too muddled for any translator to handle and Adrian’s raucous laughter.
Things were finally looking up.
As he’d expected the soldiers were there with their guns and serious faces as they made landfall, Adrian swaggering ashore with a grin on his face and his helmet under one arm. They were shouting various things at him – he figured he could guess what they were saying without paying full attention – and so he tossed the helmet to the sand, spit a glob of phlegm after it, and raised both hands.
“G’day,” he greeted them cheerfully. “I will accept your surrender at any time, but first I think you should take me to your leader.”
The other crewmen fell upon the beach in various states of wishing for death and rolling around, and were immediately attended by the medic attached to the group of soldiers, which was all very interesting but they all seemed to be ignoring him.
That wasn’t the case for long, and Adrian soon found the barrel of a very large gun pressed into the small of his back by an equally large man, giving him an order to get moving.
Still smiling, Adrian sniffed, and started walking. “Sure, mate. Whatever.”
+++++