Untitled
Chapter 51

Mother Confessor:

Continuing to watch the two go at it. The Captain much to my surprise is very graceful with the long broad sword contrasting the smaller broader Sergeant. Their exchanges of veiled insult and strikes starts to rise in tempo. Captain Graxis dancing with his blade, and Sergeant Nimix lumbering after the skilled officer. Still she fails to land a blow on the practiced swordsman as her rage turns to frustration with each failed attempt.

* * *

Marckus:

Shoving the young female through the door into the docking bay of the facility,” Go back to the ship, my dear”, I growl at the surgical tech.

Setting off toward the rows of ships in search of one that will be fitting of my plans. I hear her head back to the scout ship in a huff. Should apologize for being rough with her, but that can wait. Weaving my way through the various craft moored in the hangar. Still pissed that all those so called geniuses would not be much help in allowing to fulfill my petty request. Fuck ’em! I roar in my head silently swearing to never return to this blasted rock of a sub moon. Picking up my pace until setting eyes on a suitable ship for my needs.

Coming upon the hatch way of the craft. Code locked, damn it, just one more obstacle. Not going to do any good in just making my own entrance this time, going to need the bloody code for this to work. Slamming my fist into the cold metal of the hull ”Damn it”, I utter annoyed through gritted teeth. Turning my back to the hatch and opposing keyed entry. Not wanting to go back into the main part of the facility and drag someone out here just to let me in to the vessel. Standing alone in the silence wishing I had brought along an electronics engineer along just in case this very scenario played out. Mentally kicking myself for not covering all the angles on this little field trip. Standing here in the silence feeling thwarted by hubris and arrogance. Such a fool I am for thinking that this half assed plan would have even played out the way I wanted it to.

Then in myself scolding I hear,” Go you idiots, I will hold the door, go now and find him before it is too late!”

One of the Volgans had been instructing someone to find me I assumed. At least anyone who would try and stop me would have to try and get past the Volgan. Not sure whether it was male or female, but then again I did not care seeing as they were helping in some capacity. What had my nerves itching to draw my friend from beneath my shoulder is I had no idea who the Volgan had sent to find me. Placing my hand on the grip of the pistol, keeping an eye out for whoever I was to expect to arrive.

Drawing the firearm and taking a defensive approach to the rear of the vessel. Keeping my weapon at the ready should I need to use it. Staying in the shadow of the engines I waited and watched in the silence. The only sound was the banging on the door separating the hangar from the facility.

Keeping my eye upon the front of the craft, waiting and wondering who is making their approach. They seem to be well versed in sneaking around. Checking the angles around my position all the way to the wall just to my right. Nothing, not even a hint of movement or shadow. They are really good whoever they are.

Then the faintest of sounds reaches my ears, just behind me. A small coughing noise. Reeling a hundred eighty degrees from my current point, pistol pointed out. I draw a bead on nothing as I glare into the openness behind the ship.

“Sir”, a nervous little voice raises up to me quietly. Shifting my aim downward, the centipede standing before me quivering in my sights.

“Well, shit”, I exclaim replacing my weapon back under my shoulder,” Never a good idea to sneak up on a soldier you know.”

“I-I-I d-d-d-do now sir”, the little creature stammers out still shaken by having my pistol drawn at him.

“Would have been most distasteful to murder him in a panic, would you not agree”, the small retired Master Sergeant steps up beside the shaken Centipede. Coming up the rear the odd little female in obnoxious dress.

“What in the hell are you three doing”, I gruffly ask the odd company.

“We are helping you much to the dissatisfaction of our peers, that and we do not have tenure so in exchange for our assistance we should like to come with you. We will make use of ourselves as best we can to you and your fellow comrades”, the small ex- marine offers.

“Fine, what about the Volgan”, I ask watching the centipede gathering up two bundled up lab coats off the hangar floor.

“I think she will be fine, Volgans can be persuasive in their own way”, the mini marine says to me.

Now I remember where they lack in finesse, they make up for it by being physically intimidating. Not wise to square off with a Volgan as they are solid and very resilient. Like fighting a solid wall of determined muscle that will not relent until they feel they have won the fight outright. Making our way to the front of the ship, I pluck the small comms piece and place it firmly in my ear.

“Send out the other pilot to the east side of the hangar near the wall, about sixty meters east, and seventy north. Should be able to spot the ship as the hatch will be setting wide open awaiting your arrival”, I dictate to the three onboard the scout ship.

“About damn time”, the reserve pilot bites into the comms,” be there shortly!” Pleased to be in the process of getting the hell off this rock soon, we cover the last few meters to the front where the keyed entry is.

Looking down at the three small creatures,” Who has the code?”

Looking at one another for an answer and coming up empty handed.

“Alright then, any of you know how to hack into the damn ship?’ My frustration seeping out with the question.

“I could give it a shot”, the tiny lizard chimes in,” shouldn’t be too difficult seeing as I had borrowed the Zemosion ship once, and theirs was much more complex to hack.”

“Fine what do you need and what is your estimate on popping this lock”, I ask the small lizard lady.

“Just need you to get me up to the mechanism, the rest is a piece of cake”, she replies confidently.

Kneeling down placing my right hand flat on the metal surface palm up. She walks up on to my hand, weighing little more than a kilo. Standing up keeping my hand as still as possible not to drop her. I move her close to the locking mechanism. Watching as she examines the keypad, then reaches for something about her waist. Peering over her tiny shoulder to see a small personal console in her left hand.

“Well how long will it take”, I ask her as she manipulates the console trying to link into the lock remotely.

“A minute or two sugar, just relax I will get you in before you know it”, she replies hastily as her small fingers work the small screen. A few seconds pass by before the little female utters a whispered,” Yes”, a triumphant affirmation of progress. Pressing the small electronic device to the side of the lock, the locks read out starts to fill with rapidly generated numbers. As the moments pass the numbers slowly start to lock on the digital read out one by one.

The last number locks in and the hatch gives a hiss.

“All passengers may now board”, the little female says turning around to look at me with a smile on her reptilian lips.

Letting out a small chuckle,” Not bad, little one”, praising her on her uncanny skill. We stand aside as the thick metal hatch lowers, the soft hum of the motors work to drop the heavy metal plate.

The reserve pilot meets up with us as the hatch connects with the metal floor with a dull clang ringing out in the hangar.

“Your chariot awaits”, I gesture the reserve pilot to enter the vehicle. The little female giggles at my statement, the pilot however does not share in the jest.

“Sir, with all do respect. Let’s get the hell of this rock.”, she returns with a frown on her face.

“You two done playing in the sandbox”, I ask the armor pilots still on the surface patrolling.

“Yes sir, good to go”, one of them happily offers.

“Good be at the air lock in three”, I command them. In unison,” Yes, sir!” Taking up post beside the pilot, as she quickly runs through system diagnostics and warms up the engines.

“Get hot, we are out of here in two minutes forty five”, I order the scout ship pilot over the comms unit.

“Aye, sir”, she returns with a sound of relief of not having to set in wait any longer.

“Sir, we are not going very far without the airlock clearance”, the reserve pilot tells me as the hatch seals and the engines hum to life.

“Well, do you have the clearance code, or is there some trick to getting out of here”, I ask the small lizard, as she has admitted to going out before.

Climbing up on the control panel from my knee. She makes her way to the key pad in the center. Pulling out her personal console once more, sifting through its contents. Kneeling next to the lower row of keys, she begins pushing the buttons that seem to correspond to what she had looked up on the private device. Deftly she inputs a long string of numbers and letters, before tapping the enter key with her small fist.

Now directly aligned behind the scout ship we wait as the heavy airlock doors slide open to reveal the rocky surface and star lit sky. We watch as the two war frames bound off the surface in the low gravity to grapple onto the front vessel as it slowly moves beyond the hangar. We keep on their tail as the pilot throttles up the Terran ship. Glad to off of geek asteroid.

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