Date Point: 3Y 8M 4W 1D AV
Orbit of Perfection, Class Three Dominion World
Adrian Saunders
“Thank fuck that’s over,” Adrian grumbled, feeling battered and bruised as he returned to his seat. Spot had burst through the edge of the atmosphere mere moments ago and as he figured it they should be almost home free. “They can’t track us anymore, right Trix?”
“We’re now passing through hard vacuum,” Trix reported, “so there won’t be a problem unless we run into something. For the record that’s reasonably unlikely.”
“Space is big,” Darragh interpreted. “Right… so about those clothes…”
Adrian eyed the Irishman with a withering look. “Mate, I haven’t exactly got clothes in your size, so the best I can do right now is a vacuum suit. You’re probably going to need to lose the bag.”
“Oh good,” Darragh replied unhappily. “I’m sure it will be fecking delightful going commando in a vacuum suit. How long again before we can go somewhere with a tailor?”
“We weren’t really planning on doing a lot of shopping, Adrian said, wondering if this rescue was really going to be worth the effort. “But… if we go somewhere with a market, we’ll see what we can do. There’s probably fucking something I could use, myself.”
“Going ‘shopping’ suggests you have an intention to pay for things,” Trix opined. “You don’t have any money. In fact, you’re probably the most prolific thief in the known galaxy.”
Adrian turned an annoyed eye towards the nearest camera. “Well, everybody needs to be good at something,” he replied. “Turns out I’m a fucking good crim. Mum’d be proud.”
“So when you say shopping…” Darragh mused, “you actually mean stealing.”
Swivelling around on his chair to properly face the scantily clad Irishman, Adrian raised a querulous eyebrow. “You’re dressed in a sack, mate, I don’t think you should be fucking complaining about how you get new clothes.”
“Alright,” Darragh conceded, raising both hands in yielding, “that’s a fair point. I’m not in any position to be picky. I just thought it might be difficult to find a tailor who’ll agree to dress me if he’s not getting paid.”
“Problem for later mate,” Adrian replied, turning back to keep an eye on his console. “Right now we’re…”
He trailed off, frowning at what he saw. They were fast approaching the position where the Superior Firepower was supposed to be, but it should have been under cloak and therefore undetectable. “Trix,” he said, “exactly why can we detect the Command Cruiser?”
Trix was silent for a moment, and she’d done this enough times for Adrian to recognise when she was working. Shortly she came back with an answer. “Some sort of hull-breach is my nearest guess, but I can’t actually find a breach.”
Darragh shared a glance with Adrian, both of them now frowning. “Sorry, but… wouldn’t that sort of thing would normally be pretty obvious?”
It should have been, and that it wasn’t raised some serious red flags with Adrian. “Something’s wrong.”
“I could increase scan power, but it would give away our position,” Trix offered. “And I can’t promise it would necessarily help.”
“Let’s not bother,” Adrian said. “I think we should treat this situation as being very fucking suspect.”
“You think something has happened aboard your bigger ship?” Darragh asked, then seemed to consider what he’d just said. “It… would be in keeping with the rest of your adventures.”
Adrian issued a derisive snort. “Adventures! Mate, I think you’d better go jump in a fucking Vac-Suit. We don’t know how reliable the Cruiser’s going to be, and if I end up having your naked arse pressing against me again I may turn a gun on it and then myself.”
Darragh stood up promptly. “No problem, there’s no need to start shooting anyone or anything… I’ll go get a suit on and you just… focus your killing aura or whatever it’s fecking called.”
Adrian sighed, turning his eyes forward and shaking his head slightly as the young Irishman wandered off to find the fabled vacuum suit. “Now would be a great time for some good news, Trix.”
“Looks like the landing deck is clear,” she replied. “We should be able to dock in there as usual. Good enough?”
“Good enough,” he agreed. “Have we heard anything from Askit?”
“No,” she replied. “No we have not.”
+++++
+++++
Secret Prison
Chir
Of all the things that Chir had been expecting of his imprisonment, the prospect of an early release had not been amongst them. Certainly he’d known, based on Layla’s revelations, that he would soon be put to work on the task of tracking down and killing his old human comrade, but to him that had seemed like it would be weeks, if not months away, plenty of time for him to fully absorb the scale of treachery that had been enacted upon him.
Wrapped up as he was in his own impotent fury, he fully ignored the presence of the Corti male who had entered the chamber. That was, at least, until the loathsome creature did the universe a disservice by speaking.
“Good news, Gaoian,” the Corti said, although even if he had dispensed with the regular, dull speech pattern of his species it would have been doubtful that anything good was going to come next. “It seems we have an unexpected window of opportunity. Adrian Saunders has arrived on this planet and caused several… incidents. He has only just departed, and you will be going after him.”
Chir looked up from his paws. Unable to take it out on those who deserved it, he’d been fidgeting in an effort to managed his stress. He had been largely successful in refraining from any significant outbursts, but he still glared at his captor with hate-filled eyes, and spoke with a voice brimming with acid. “And how, exactly, do you expect me to go after him if he’s already left?”
The edge of the Corti’s mouth twitched, the best that most of them could manage for a smile. “You are fortunate, it seems that in this matter our generosity is excessive. You will be allowed to take one of our smaller craft, big enough for your purposes, and only capable of sub-light velocities.”
Chir barked out a scoffing laugh. “You expect me to chase after him without faster-than-light technology?”
“We expect you to transmit a distress beacon,” the Corti replied. “Our models predict that he will arrive to save you from trouble.”
Models could be wrong, Chir thought, although he was fairly sure that Adrian wouldn’t just leave him drifting if he was still in the area; the human was many things, and possibly a monster of many kinds, but not of that one. At least that was what Chir liked to believe. “It’s a solid theory,” he admitted. “What of Layla?”
He had almost growled the name.
“She is in our care,” the Corti said. “Your child is as safe as it has ever been, provided you hold up your end of our arrangement. Are you intending to behave yourself once out of your cell?”
Chir growled, wanting more than anything to burst free and carve a path of death through this Corti and through anyone else that stood between him and the mother of his child. But harming this Corti was more likely to result in consequences not repaid by that brief moment of satisfaction.
He bowed his head in acquiescence. “I will obey.”
The edge of the Corti’s lips twitched again, and he opened the cell with enough confidence not to retreat, or even flinch, as Chir stepped out. That revealed a supreme confidence in his authority over Chir, a belief that he was powerless to resist and smart enough to know it; the most infuriating thing was that Chir knew it, too.
“This way,” the Corti said, leading him from that chamber to the next. This one did not contain a cell, but held monitoring equipment that spied on the room they’d just exited, along with a pair of waiting Corti operatives bearing typical expressionless faces and the now-ubiquitous Irbzrkian stunguns.
It was a strange feeling to be glad that not everybody was so confident that he was entirely subdued, and he refrained from staring at the weapons in case they thought he was getting any dangerous ideas.
“These men will escort you to the vessel,” said the Corti he’d been released by, evidently the superior to these two. “The vessel has basic supplies, and resources for you in your mission. There is a communicator that will allow you to contact us without relying on systems monitored by that subversive Hacker.”
It was an odd thing to hear emotion laid heavy upon the words of a Corti, and although disdain featured highly on the emotions they touched on it was only ever Askit who’d applied emotion so liberally to his speech. There was also little doubt that it was Askit of whom he spoke, and although Chir had usually associated the little Corti with feelings of annoyance and mistrust, today he couldn’t help but think well of him. How could he be entirely bad if he was capable of inspiring this level of hatred amongst people like this?
Chir wondered exactly how much of the demands to kill the Corti hacker were based on what he’d done to them, and how much he caused them resentment. Little doubt it was a strong mix, and given what grief they had brought upon his captors it would be a pity to deprive the universe of people like Askit and Adrian. Chir was adamant that, if it did come to that, if he really could bring down a force as strong as the Human Disaster, it should be easy enough to bring ruin to a gang of conspiracy stereotypes.
He glared at his Corti captor once again, considering how sweet it would be to repay that blood-debt tenfold. Between Gaoians there were limits to feuds, limits to revenge, set in stone by the Mothers since time immemorial. Rules created to prevent the menfolk from butchering each other, rules to segregate the males and the females so that, when there was fighting, it was limited. When it came to other species, however, there was no threat to the Gaoian race, and there were no such rules establish to protect the others. They may abide by the rules of the Dominion, but as far as the culture of Gao was concerned Chir would be free to overfill his cup with vengeance.
“I will go,” he said flatly, barely able to keep his temper under control, aching for the moment he could afford to let it break. “But there is one question I would have answered: where is Kefani Keil?”
“That is not something that you need to know,” the Corti replied, equally flatly. “She is no longer your concern.”
“Not my concern?” Chir repeated, a growl edging at his voice. “I was her commanding officer, she has always been my concern. Tell me where she is or our ‘arrangement’ is off!”
“You would threaten me?” the Corti asked, surprised, and behind him Chir heard the slight change in charge that accompanied stungun activation.
Chir got his anger back under control. “I… no, of course not.”
“Do you forget,” the Corti sneered, “what it is we hold hostage, Gaoian? Do you forget that if you wish to see your child that you will do exactly what we say? There will be no concessions, and there will be no modifications to the arrangement! We. Own. You.”
There was a tense moment, and Chir was keenly aware of both stunguns being active and pointed directly at him. The Corti in front of him was swathed in self-confidence, an intrinsic knowledge that he had every advantage over his Gaoian prisoner. His Gaoian slave.
Chir couldn’t help but remember a promise he had made, to himself, some time ago. Bearing that in mind, he shrank away, giving the illusion of a man defeated when in fact his blood was boiling over.
“I see,” he said quietly, and rejoined his two armed escorts with his head hanging low like a scolded cub. The tension eased, and the guards turned to walk him out of the facility.
Prior to the discovery of humans, Gaoians had been highly regarded for their physical capabilities. Their homeworld was heavy by Galactic standards, and as omnivores they had bodies built for hunting. The feats of humanity had made the galaxy forget all of that, but in this one moment Chir would remind them.
A careful paw slipped around the strap of the nearest guard, unnoticed by all until it snapped tight and slammed the gun against his gullet. The Corti choked, and Chir pulled back harder, strangling the bastard while using him as a shield against his comrade.
Less careful now, he twisted the stungun in the asphyxiating Corti’s hands and turned it against the other, forcing a blast from a broken grey hand and catching the other in the side of its bulging skull. Blue lightning tore away at it in arcs that leapt between sub-dermal implants, blowing small holes in valuable brain matter.
With one more violent twist of the gun, the soldier in Chir’s arms gurgled his last, stiffened, and went forever limp. He threw the corpse aside and let the stungun reconfigure to his own gene-code.
“Well,” he said to the Corti whose sudden dearth of superiority still seemed to be dawning on him. “It looks like the arrangement has changed.”
The Corti recovered his composure with surprising speed, going so far as to step forward and point an accusing finger at Chir, who was only pointing a gun.
“You have doomed yourself by these actions!” the Corti told him, his words venomous. “But I will overlook punishing your offspring if you simply do as you are told! This is a one time offer, Chir!”
Chir casually lowered the power settings on the gun to half a notch below sub-lethal, and shot he Corti in the groin. He watched with significant satisfaction as the grey creature sank to the floor with a weak wail of pain and began shuddering in near silence.
“That was my counter-offer,” Chir growled in reply. “Are you willing to listen to my terms and conditions?”
The Corti raised a face full of loathing to regard Chir. “You…” he snarled, “you’re no better than the humans! Kill me and you will never escape the facility! Your child will be dead before tomorrow, and the human female will be used for dissection!”
Chir didn’t answer right away; he marched towards the fallen alien and made each step as deliberate and imposing as he could manage. The Corti twisted away, trying to crawl in the opposite direction, and when Chir reached him he found it all too easy to press the barrel of the weapon into the only significant Corti orifice that didn’t do the talking.
The Corti froze.
“I made a promise to myself,” Chir said, almost conversationally, “that I would never be made a slave again. I was determined to kill myself rather than let that happen, but now that you… you ‘fucking arseholes’ have put me on the spot, I find that I’d much rather kill all of you instead.”
The Corti peeked back over his shoulder, barely willing to make any movement. “I… your child!”
Chir made a point of turning the power back up on the stungun and humming along with the charge build-up. “It sounds so gentle!” he said, poorly feigning reflection through gritted teeth while pressing the barrel in a little further. “Doesn’t it!?”
That was about all it took exhaust the Corti’s limited supply of courage and for his resolve to break down completely. “Please…” he begged, “just… I can’t help you! You have to realise that it wasn’t personal!”
Chir ignored the bleating, and pressed the barrel further until the Corti gave a terrified squeak from both ends. “Kefani Keil,” he repeated. “Where is she?”
“She’s on this base,” the Corti finally admitted, much less reticent with a significant portion of a lightning-gun crammed up his rear end. “She’s in stasis, room four-six. We were going to put her through surgery to implant a full cybernetic suite! It was part of an external contract!”
Point of interest, but no time to follow up on that now; he might not have much time and he had to make his questions count. “She’s leaving with me. What about Layla?”
“Gone home,” the Corti revealed. “Her job was over so she left.”
“What ship?” Chir demanded. He was determined to find that female and protect his child no matter what was required. “What was the name of the ship she left on?”
“I… don’t know,” the Corti attempted to reply. Perhaps it was the sudden realisation of how unlikely that would seem, or maybe he sensed Chir’s suspicion, but he decided to immediately give up on his lie. “That… that’s not true… she’s in the city, Cundleign Hotel!”
Lucky break, Chir thought; he wouldn’t even need to leave the planet to start taking care of things. There was, however, one last matter, and when he asked it he did so in a tone that would put the Corti under no illusions about how much patience Chir had remaining. “Where is my ship?”
The Corti hesitated, only to stumble over his words as Chir pressed home his point. “Corporation has it…” the Corti rushed out. “It’s headed to a base near Cavaras!”
“Which Corporation?” Chir asked. “Why?”
“Iridis Industries!” the Corti replied eagerly, now well past the point where he thought that lies might be helpful. “It was a secondary mission, in case you failed. Performing acts of terrorism in the name of Adrian Saunders until he came out, and then killing him in a trap.”
The name of Iridis Industries seemed familiar, but not so much so that Chir could remember the finer details. He didn’t really need them anyway, it was clear that they wanted Adrian dead and were willing to hut everybody else to make it happen. To make them go to this effort, however, he must have really pissed them off.
“That’s all?” Chir asked, leaving the door open for any further information the Corti might want to provide.
The Corti seemed tapped out. “That’s all!” he insisted. “Believe me!”
“I do believe you,” Chir assured him quietly, and waited for the Corti to begin to relax before pulling the trigger. He held it down until the continuous discharge burned out both gun and corpse, then let the remains of both fall to the floor.
“To me,” he said, staring down at the smouldering ruin, “it was all very personal.”
+++++ +++++
Superior Firepower, subverted Hierarchy Command Cruiser
Askit
A star-bright ball of exotic high-energy particles hit the Chehnasho invader directly in the heavy combat harness, sending a surge of power through him that obliterated the suit and instantly transformed the mercenary inside into white ash and sent a wave of heat washing over everybody in the room.
The two remaining Chehanash invaders turned from what they were doing to the reactor – undoubtedly something nefarious – with guns at the ready. Their faces switched from veteran-calm to alarm and then to horror once they had time to process what had just happened to their comrade and who was responsible.
“I am Xayn, son of Xagh,” Xayn informed them, “and I only need one of you!”
The Chehnash sprang to either side and opened fire with anti-tank guns while Xayn responded in kind. None of them hit the other, but while the worst an anti-tank gun would do to a hull was to put a sizable dent in it, the worst that Xayn’s gun would do was to blow a big hole in it. Which it did.
Something important exploded – not the reactor, fortunately – and all of the lights flickered. From his position back along the corridor Askit began the process of figuring out exactly what had just happened while the V’Straki went berserk on two mercenaries who had no idea what they’d just got messed up in.
“Shit!” Askit exclaimed, seeing the alerts starting to flash all over his datapad. Overload notifications on all systems, bad and getting worse, and a damage report on the primary power regulator. Whatever had happened to it had the reactor constantly thinking that the ship was being underpowered and that it thereby needed to push more through, and it didn’t look like the secondary regulators were up to the task of stopping the ship from burning out all of its systems. If that was what one stray shot could manage, Askit didn’t want there being any more; he popped out from cover and shouted out a warning to Xayn. “Don’t shoot anything else!”
“But they have guns!” he called back, now taking cover from successive kinetic blasts from two weapons. After seeing what a single shot from Xayn’s gun could do to them they probably wanted to prevent him from even having a chance to take another one.
“Your stray shot just broke my ship!” Askit told him angrily. “I’m going to have to shut down major systems to prevent them from getting burned out along with everything else!”
“Then it is for you to focus on that!” said Xayn. “It is for me to bring fear to our enemies.”
“As long as that means no shooting I’m completely fine with it!” Askit replied, tapping away at his datapad. He knew he had to shut down the major systems that ran the ship, and that he’d also need to find a way to spend all the extra energy that was being pushed into the ship, but it was only a matter of time before the energy buildup started cooking the conduits and when that began to happen there wouldn’t be a safe place to stand on the ship.
“Then it is time to put my martial prowess to the test,” decided Xayn, shifting into a springing position. What he was hoping to do, given that his ‘martial prowess’ seemed to be either hopping from one leg to another, or slipshod shooting, Askit couldn’t know, and he found himself watching out of curiosity as, between bursts of kinetic gunfire, the V’Straki sprang high into the air and came down on one of the surprised Chehnash with the butt of his gun.
That was the end of him; Askit knew you didn’t get that sort of finalistic crunching sound without a fatality being involved. The V’Straki’s tail whipped around, striking the survivor’s gun from his hand, and a powerful kick drove into his chest.
The unfortunate Chehnasho burst, but at least the mess was contained.
“You were supposed to keep one alive!” Askit reminded him, slipping out from cover to inspect the cover. “It’s going to be difficult to ask him questions when all of his insides have exploded out!”
Xayn shot back with an indignant look. “It is not my fault that these creatures are so easily damaged. These combat suits provided little resistance to being shattered like an unwanted egg.”
“These combat suits are intended to provide shielding against kinetic and plasma weapons, as well as to provide the wearer with increased strength,” Askit replied. “Most species wouldn’t be able to break them like you did.”
“Say what you wish, small and grey one,” Xayn said, picking over the broken suit. “These engineering standards are lax by comparison to those of the V’Strak. We would never have accepted it into military service.”
Askit sighed. “Well, we have bigger problems. If we can’t do something about this damage we’re going to have all of the conduits flashing into lines of plasma. I’ve turned off a large number of systems to trick it into smaller increments, but the overload is still steadily increasing.”
“How do we fix this?” Xayn asked. “I am unfamiliar with your style of technology.”
“I don’t know,” Askit replied, feeling entirely out of his depth. “This is the sort of thing that Adrian normally deals with. I do know that the hull will soon electrify, so we’ve got to get some Vacuum Suits on. Have you… been configured for one?”
Xayn nodded. “Adrian insisted that we do that before we even left my colony. I said he was paranoid at the time.”
“He is paranoid, he just happened to be correct,” Askit replied. “Get into it. Then we’ll figure out what else we can do. If we don’t act soon, Adrian will either be arriving to a dead ship, or one that’s about to explode.”
“Why not contact him and advise him of this fact?” Xayn asked.
Askit shook his head in frustration. “Because the communications systems are amongst those I was forced to turn off. The overload prevents me from turning them back on.”
“In that case we should shut the reactor down,” Xayn suggested. “It will prevent further damage.”
“If we do that we will lose gravity, we will lose the cloak, we will lose lighting and we will eventually lose the air through the breach,” Askit told him. “Door control is also offline.”
Xayn hissed in frustration. “Then I cannot see what else may be done. We should use the enemy vessel and evacuate.”
Askit had not even considered the continued presence of the ship that had brought the Chehnash aboard. Xayn was, unfortunately, correct in that the easiest way to correct the problem with the ship was to shut down the reactor, but that didn’t mean that they had to lose absolutely everything as a result. If he could use the other ship’s kinetics to seal the hull breach they’d be able to keep the air, if nothing else, but that would give them enough time for Adrian to survive no matter how long he took.
“Get me a Vacuum-Suit,” Askit told the waiting V’Straki, and picked up one of the datapads in use by the Chehnash. “It’s got a connection… and I have work to do.”
+++++
+++++
Superior Firepower, subverted Hierarchy Command Cruiser
Adrian Saunders
Spot made a clean landing as usual on the Superior Firepower’s flight deck, just in time for Darragh to have finished getting himself into the spare, albeit unarmoured vacuum suit that Adrian kept in case of emergencies.
“You know,” Darragh observed, adjusting himself, “these suits really aren’t made for going commando. What are they made from anyway, some sort of space-spandex?”
Having already made the mistake of looking once, Adrian kept his eyes on his consoles while he answered. “Something like that. Do you think you could stop fooling around down there?”
“I suppose, but it’s still not bloody comfortable,” Darragh complained, taking a seat next to Adrian and peering over at the console. “What’s the hold-up, then?”
“There’s a lot of power charging the Cruiser…” Adrian replied, grimly considering what that might mean for those aboard. “Is that survivable, Trix?”
“A Vacuum suit would offer sufficient protection,” Trix explained, “at least until the power reaches critical levels. The relevant systems are all shut down, however, so I’m unable to tell exactly how long that might be.”
Adrian glanced at the camera, frowning. “What could have caused that? Something wrong with the reactor?”
“Diagnosis tools suggest this may be a symptom of an issue with the primary power regulator,” Trix explained. “That is located adjacent to the reactor, but is not part of it.”
“Any sign of life, or of a life-pod ejection?” Adrian asked. He hadn’t wanted to ask the question at first, afraid of what the answer might be, but he was hoping that Askit would be sharp enough to realise a Vacuum suit or a pod – or preferably both – was the best bet he’d have to survive the situation.
“No pods have been ejected,” Trix replied. “The hull is too energised to detect any life aboard.”
“Sounds like we’re headed to the reactor, then,” Darragh guessed, getting to his feet once again and making his way towards the exit. “If your Corti friend is going to be anywhere, it’ll be there.”
That seemed a reasonable assumption, and even if it was untrue it would allow Adrian to quickly assess whether the cruiser could be saved or not. In the latter case it would mean a quick dash back to Spot, or to the nearest life-pod, before all the conduits started to burn out. In short, nothing that he hadn’t done before.
“Alright,” he said, grabbing his shotgun. “Take your bug-zappers, in case there’s a fuckload of arseholes waiting for us. Just remember not to shoot me in the fucking face again and I won’t feel compelled to offer a first-hand experience with having one jammed so far up your fucking arse it knocks your teeth out. Clear?”
Darragh cleared his throat softly and made sure his gun was pointed downwards. “Clear.”
“Good,” said Adrian, taking lead as they stepped out through Spot’s airlock. “Let’s be quick then, you really don’t want to be around a fucking conduit burn-out of any size.”
Darragh followed, close behind and very conscious of where he was pointing his stun-gun. “I’ve heard they eject plasma. Not usually many survivors. Have you seen one, then?”
Adrian sniffed as his lips curled into a secretive smile. “Once or twice.”
“I’ll defer to the voice of experience then,” Darragh replied, stopping as they reached the door that separated the flight deck from the rest of the ship. Adrian had hit the button, and it wasn’t opening.
“Shit,” he said, pressing the button again. “Fuck… it’s locked or something. Trix, are you able to override?”
Trix answered in the negative. “Not without direct access. Usually you’d need to connect a wireless jack to a port, but with this level of overload I believe that would simply destroy it.”
“So how do we get in?” Darragh asked.
Adrian thought the matter over, considered what he knew about door controls and the like, and looked down at Darragh’s weapon. “Well, what’s the worst that can happen?”
“We’re aboard a ship that’s about to have a very bad day,” Darragh replied. “That doesn’t seem a very wise fecking thing to say. What, exactly, are you thinking of doing?”
“I’m thinking I’m going to jump start a door with your gun,” Adrian explained in brief, smashing open the panel with the butt of his shotgun a moment later to reveal the mix of circuitry within. “And I’ve got a feeling that it might work.”
Darragh reluctantly handed over his weapon and wisely took a big step back. Adrian, with the help of his Earth-forged combat knife, cut through the micro-conduits that supplied the door with enough power to open, along with the control circuits that told it what to do. An Irbzrkian stungun wasn’t the most elegant tool for this particular job, but it would either get it done or it would cook the circuitry beyond repair.
“I’d say there’s a one-in-ten chance of this actually working,” Adrian guessed as he prepared to shoot the electrics. “Or maybe a one-in-one-hundred.”
“That’s a pretty piss-poor chance,” Darragh replied, taking another step back. “Are you really going to be holding those things while shooting the wires?”
“The Zhadersil gave me worse zaps than this fucking thing,” Adrian replied, turning the weapon to a considerably lower power setting now that he thought about it. What he’d said had been true, but there was no point in trying to re-live those particular experiences.
He pulled the trigger, gritted his teeth through the relatively mild electrocution, and shook his fist victoriously as the door actually opened a few inches before the control board exploded. “Looks like it’s our lucky day.”
“We’re not going to be able to fit through there,” Darragh noted. “Unless you can pry those doors open a wee bit more, or if you can figure out how to lose a whole lot of fecking weight in a real hurry.”
Adrian rolled his eyes, took hold of both sides of the door and began to pry them apart with his raw strength. One litany of growled curse words and a brow covered in sweat later he had them open far enough for them to both move through comfortably. “The thing you have to remember, Darragh,” he said, taking deep breaths, “is that shit like this isn’t built to deal with humans.”
“Yeah, I don’t think I could have managed that,” Darragh replied, dubiously inspecting Adrian’s handiwork. “But that you managed it is the main thing. But how are we going to stop this whole crate from exploding if we can’t fix this ‘power regulator’?”
“We’ll probably have to shut down the reactor,” Adrian told him. “There should be direct controls to do that on the reactor itself, unless they’ve been damaged as well.”
That was when the lights went out, the gravity disappeared, and the air blasted from the flight deck and out into the void. It blasted from the doorway, too, and that was why it carried Adrian and Darragh with it out into the black abyss.
Adrian focused on his breathing, trying to remain calm in spite of the situation and the way that Darragh was screaming about flying off into space. The latter, at least, he could do something about. “Darragh,” he said firmly, “shut the fuck up!”
“Shut up?!” Darragh repeated. “I’m fecking… tumbling, through fecking space… I think I’ll shout just as loud as I’d like.”
“I have three arguments against that,” Adrian told him. “First, that was someone shutting down the fucking reactor, so they’re probably still alive in there and are working on the problem. Second, we have a ship that is probably already coming to collect us. Third, it’s really fucking annoying!”
“Oh…” Darragh said, more quietly now. “So it’s mostly good news then?”
Adrian sighed. He wouldn’t call it good news, but it was better than what might have happened. The last time he’d been unexpectedly hurtling through space he’d had his brown trousers on; it was really amazing the sorts of things you could get used to. “Trix,” he said, “where are you?”
“Coming to get you now,” she replied. “Negotiating an exit was more challenging without the automated flight deck systems. I have, by the way, a message waiting for you.”
“Was it Askit calling to apologise for jettisoning me into space?” he asked, able to calm himself more easily now that he knew she was on her way.
“No,” she replied. “It was Chir on an all-bands request for an emergency extraction. He’s still on Perfection, and he’s asking for you.”
Adrian groaned out a deep sigh. “So that means fucking everybody knows exactly where I’m going to be in short order?”
“Yes,” Trix confirmed.
“Goodo then,” he said, resigning himself to what was to come. “Let’s start by hurrying the fuck up so that we can get there first.”
“And what about Askit?” Trix reminded him, plainly ignoring his demands that she make any additional haste. “As you said, it was likely him who shut down the reactor.”
“If we’re down there too long,” he told her, “go make sure the little guy is doing okay. We’ll try and be quick, though. You get all that, Darragh?”
“Yeah, I got it,” Darragh confirmed. “I’m just hoping you managed to hold on to my gun.”
Adrian looked at his empty hand, and frowned at it. Good news that at least the shotgun remained tied to him, a buckle ensuring that it didn’t fly away in exactly this sort of situation. Bad news that the stungun hadn’t had the same precautions taken with it. “About that…”
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Secret Prison
Chir
The enemy was converging on the Surgery ward, but thus far Chir had managed to keep them out. Leaving the corpse of the Corti in the doorway had offered enough initial discouragement for him to have time to not only free Keffa, but to send a broadcast on absolutely every band he’d had access to in the hope of summoning Adrian Saunders and everybody else.
They’d just down the communications system following that, and he made sure to keep trying to access it so that they would be delayed in getting it up and running for their own purposes. Aside from that he was fully consumed with ensuring that the more adventurous enemy soldiers discovered why curiosity killed the Gricka.
“How are you feeling?” he asked Keffa with concern. They’d been just about to start operating on her when he’d arrived and killed all of the Corti surgeons in the room, along with anybody else who wasn’t Keffa. She’d been unconscious at the time, and she was only barely out of it now, so whatever they’d given her must have been very strong indeed.
“N-not good, Chir…” Keffa drawled out, trying to raise herself from where she’d slumped to the floor and failing. “W-what happened?”
She’d asked him that the last time he’d checked in with her, and the time before that. “Nothing good,” he said simply, not wanting to constantly repeat his words. He’d spent enough time talking about it the first time, before he’d realised he was speaking to an empty shell.
Hopefully Adrian Saunders would actually arrive soon, and with the knowledge of how to help Keffa, because Chir didn’t have a clue and was quite frankly completely screwed without some assistance. Right now there was no chance of him even getting out of the ward, even if he were to do the unthinkable and abandon Keffa. For the moment they were simply preventing him from leaving, and if Chir guessed correctly they would be preparing for the assault of the galaxy’s most destructive human. Once that threat had passed, or was assumed to pass, the situation for Chir would rapidly go downhill.
But, providing Adrian Saunders did arrive, and in spite of his own guilt or remorse, there was no guarantee of failure for Chir in this situation. In the preferable event that Adrian Saunders were to rescue Chir, they could work together to capture Layla. Should that not work out, and if it were ultimately required, Chir could turn against his human comrade as his would-be masters had desired. If, however, Adrian Saunders happened to die in the attempt to rescue Chir, then once again Chir could claim it as part of his strategy, regardless of how he’d have to stretch the truth to make it fit.
Even considering all this, and disregarding the noise, Chir felt relief when the whole base thundered as though the world was exploding. Walls shook, the lights flickered, and the roof crumbled, but there could only be one explanation for that and it filled Chir with a faint sense of hope that the ideal may actually come to fruition.
“Keffa,” he said urgently, “you need to be ready… focus through the drugs!”
She groaned again. “Chir… wh-what happened?”
“Adrian Saunders just arrived,” Chir replied with confidence, “and our captors are about to have a very bad day.”
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