Flux Runners

by William Joseph Roberts

  Rachel let out a muffled squeal through her clenched fists that were firmly planted to her face.

  “Last chance crazy lady,” the Chief warned as he stood again.

  “Rachel! Please, we need him,” Doug pleaded.

  She pouted. “Sorry, Cap.”

  “Chief, please.” Doug motioned to the empty seat at the table. “Kara, Lizz, I need you to put together a shift and delivery schedule. Set up a rotation for the research teams out in the field also. Work with Mel to make sure everyone has downtime and can get to chow without a problem.”

  “It would be an absolute pleasure to work with a living legend,” Lizz said with a beaming smile. “Welcome aboard Mr. Thomas.”

  “Uh...Yes, welcome Chief,” Bob stammered.

  “Oh. Well now. I look forward to helping out in any way that I can.” He nervously smiled back at Lizz.

  Doug continued. “Tiff, have you made any progress on how to rearm or upgrade the satellite network?”

  “It'll just take time,” Tiff sighed. “We can easily build and replace the missiles from the satellites. But for the time being, there are some that are still armed.”

  “I made sure to disengage all of the defensive systems with unresponsive or inactive warheads,” Wes added. “When Fergus and Trae get back, they can start pulling those for repair. Otherwise, we have a few hundred missiles still viable within the network.”

  Tiff smiled longingly at the Chief. “Thank you again for what you did, Chief. You didn’t have to do anything, but you did it anyway.”

  “Wasn't nothing,” the Chief said. “It just wouldn't be right to stand by and let assholes like them do whatever they wanted to do.” He smiled.

  “Still,” Tiff said. “Thank you.”

  “Eh, no worries,” he said shrugging it off.

  “Alright,” Doug started. “Witches...,”

  “What in the hell do you think that you’re doing?” A cooking pan bounced across the floor from the kitchen area. “I already told you, you little shit. You can’t have any more cheese. You'll wait till chow time like everyone else.”

  “You okay in there, Mel?” Doug yelled toward the kitchen.

  “Yes...this damn critter cat likes to help but she’s munching more than she’s freaking working.”

  “Okay...Anything we need to do to help?”

  “No! Thank you. Sorry to interrupt,” Melanie replied.

  “You're welcome...” Doug looked at the faces staring back at him around the table. “Okay, where was I?”

  Krista held up a finger in the air and waggled it with a smirk.

  “Oh, right, Witches,” Doug said, remembering.

  “Oh, we are good to go, Cap. There's nothing that we can’t handle on our end. It's all rainbows and butterflies all day long,” she said nervously and smiled as she rocked back and forth on her heels. Maggie looked at her with an incredulous glare.

  “Still,” Doug continued. “The Chief helped to figure out how to grow sustainable crops in every environment possible back home. Our rations will only last for so long and the planet is limited on edible resources. Since we have no idea how long the away team will be, we have to ration and make do with what we have.”

  “Naw...It's all good,” Krista waived as if it were nothing. “Me and Maggie have got this. It'll all be golden in the end.” She bundled herself into her cloak and slumped down in her seat.

  “We could use some help building additional planting areas,” Maggie interjected. “The raised beds that we had already built were planted with...um..,” she hesitated, “medicinal plants.”

  Doug glared beams at Krista.

  “What,” Krista said defensively with a shrug. “I didn't know we'd be stranded here. I was just working on restocking our medicine cabinet.”

  Doug gently massaged the bridge of his nose. “So, you haven't planted any of the food crop seeds that we brought from Earth?”

  “Yes,” Maggie excitedly volunteered. “We have garlic planted and thriving already.”

  Wes let out a hysterical cacophony of choking laughter. “Well, at least we won't have to worry about any sparkly vampires coming to get any of us.”

  Doug's fingers worked their way around to the sides of his head and dug into his temples. “So, what exactly do you currently have planted?”

  “Like she said,” Krista pointed toward Maggie. “It's all medicinal.”

  Doug abruptly stopped, glaring up past a furrowed brow.

  “Oh alright...fine,” Krista sighed. “Hemp, poppy, valerian, coca, peyote, jimson, motherwort, a few species of mushrooms and some other odds and ends.”

  Murmurs of holy shit and what the hell escaped from around the table.

  “No worries Cap, I've got this,” the Chief reassured. “Challenge accepted,” he said with a self-assured, smug smile and a gleam in his eye.

  “Should I recruit a narcotics officer on the next Earth run,” Lizz mused.

  “No,” Doug said, letting out a long sigh. “At least not yet. There's no telling what we may need in the future, though.”

  “The hole,” Rachel shouted.

  Everyone at the table turned and stared at Rachel.

  “Hu,” Doug groaned.

  “That's what we should officially name this place,” Rachel said, slapping the tabletop for emphasis. “The boomer crews have already been calling it the Troll Hole instead of the Dragon's Lair. The Hole just rolls smoothly off the tongue in my opinion.” She held her right hand as high above her head as she could. “I nominate the official designation for our underground base to be, the Hole. All in favor,” she said in a hopeful tone.

  “Aye,” came a few voices from around the table.

  “Aye,” Doug said reluctantly. “Okay, are you happy Cheezy?”

  “Yup,” she said and happily bounced in her seat.

  “Okay, anyway, back to the real business,” Doug continued. “Bob, I'd like you to work with Tiff and the new girl, Becky. Take a few of the new grunts that we picked up on the last Earth run and see what you can come up with for permanent accommodations for everyone. We'll expand as we need to, but for now, let's try to keep things in as close to the core as possible. Let's use every bit of space to the best of our ability. We also want to make sure that we share everything that we can with the cats. This was their place first and it's only right to share anything we have with them. We aren't the British empire or the East India trading company.”

  The clatter of metal pots tumbling to the ground echoed from the kitchen. “That's friggin' it! That's it! Get out of my kitchen! You...are...done!”

  “That is if Mel doesn't kill them all first,” Doug said with a laugh. “Do we all know what we're doing?” He looked around the table at slow nods of yes or the occasional thumbs up and smiled. “Good. Dismissed, now get to work. Chief, Cheezy,” Doug commanded. “You'll both be having a private dinner with Lizz and me on the Betty. Seventeen hundred hours and no excuses.

  Jeers and catcalls came from the others as they exited the cantina.

  “Yes sir,” Rachel belted out, then wheeled herself away from the table.

  “Aye Cap,” the Chief responded with a brisk and cocky salute.

  cHAPTER 56

  Sarin star system

  Polsion Space Station

  Operations office

  September 18th, 2176 / Late Evening (Dragon time)

  “N

  o, that’s not it at all, sir,” Trae said to the blue-tinted possum-like Polsion. We don’t want to press charges or file a grievance. We’re just trying to get into touch with this race.” He held up a picture of a Sasquatch like alien against the thick glass wall that surrounded the station's security desk.

  “So, then it’s revenge that you seek?” The small Polsion hissed.

  “No man, you aren’t listening,” Fergus said. “See these great big sasquatch looking, guys…”

  “Pickup order number eleven,” a voice boomed over the station intercoms. “Pickup order number eleven, pik
ka glazed grig rolls is ready at the window.”

  “Rohʙandī,” the Polsion said.

  “What?” Fergus looked at Trae.

  “Their race is called the Rohʙandī,” the Polsion repeated.

  “Okay, now we’re getting somewhere,” Trae said.

  “So, like I was saying, these Rohʙandī, have been lurking around Casraownan’s homeworld and they attacked a ship full of his people…”

  “Then I was correct. It is revenge that you seek?”

  “No,” Casraownan growled as he stepped up to the glass. “If you would shut your mouth and listen to what they are…”

  “Whoa, hold on there, Cass, ol’ buddy,” Trae said, grabbing Casraownan by the arm. “Calm down. It’s not worth getting arrested for.”

  “Naw, it ain’t,” Fergus said, grabbing Casraownan by the other arm. “Trust me. I’ve spent enough time in space station brigs to know.”

  “Listen, we are looking for them to find out what they want and what they know about Cass’s people,” Trae said. “If any of the Rohʙandī come to the station, could you please pass this on to them?” Trae held up a small data chip. “It has a message from our Captain to their people and includes all of the data that we have on them so far and the coordinates for Cass’s homeworld.

  The Polsion nodded and pressed a control on its station. A small panel on the front of the security desk slid away from the outside of the counter and opened to reveal an empty compartment.

  “Please place the device in the tray.”

  Trae placed the data chip in the compartment and held up a folded piece of paper. “These are the electrical schematics for the data device. It might help you in accessing the data,” he said, placing the paper in the compartment with the chip.

  “We should not have an issue accessing your technology, but the gesture is duly noted.” The Polsion officer nodded and pressed a control on its station, retracting the compartment. It turned and resumed watching the numerous feeds displayed behind the desk.

  “There you guys are,” Amanda said. “I’ve been looking all over for you. Please tell me that you didn’t go brain dead like Denise and Andy.”

  “What does brain dead mean?” Casraownan asked, scratching his head.

  “Oh my,” Amanda said in a surprised tone. “You can talk.”

  “Well yeah,” Fergus said. “He could talk before; we just couldn’t understand him.”

  “Yes, Aaamanda,” Casaroawnan said in a yowling cat-like tone. “I can understand you and speak your language now. Thank you for all of the times that you have occupied my son, Jouqon, while his mother and I could learn your language from Lizz.”

  “I’m happy to lend a hand,” she said shyly.

  “These translators are some amazing technology,” Trae said. I can’t wait for the chance to take one apart and see how it works.”

  “Well, you might have a few to look at already,” Amanda said. “Andy took his and Denise’s chips out. The waitress wasn’t too happy with them.”

  “As long as they don’t get us kicked off the station I don’t care. Now Big Willy, on the other hand, he might leave them behind just because they looked at him wrong.”

  “Oh…” Fergus laughed. “You mean like the time when Willy left Andy behind in Boston? That was hilarious.”

  “Bossston…,” Casraownan said in a quizzical tone.

  “Don’t worry none about it,” Fergus said. “Cap made us turn around and go back to get him, unfortunately.

  “Have you found out anything on the Reds?”

  “Rohʙandī,” Fergus corrected.

  “Ro..hu?

  “Rohʙandī,” Trae said. “That’s what their race is known as. There are currently no Rohʙandī ships in port though. So, I left a data chip with a message for the Rohʙandī at this security desk,” he said, thumbing toward the desk behind him. “Speaking of which…” Trae turned and knocked on the glass enclosing the security desk. “Hey, do I get a receipt for that?”

  The station intercoms popped and suddenly came to life. “Attention Bigmart shoppers! The store is now officially closed. You ain't gotta go home, but ya can't stay here!”

  Trae and Fergus turned to each other with looks of horror.

  “Was that Denise?”

  “Yeah, I’m pretty sure it was,” Trae said as he began walking away from the security desk. He turned but continued walking backward. “Cass, Amanda, you two take a different route back to the ship. We’ll meet you there.”

  “Wait? Why? What’s Wrong?”

  “Trust me,” Fergus said, following behind Trae. “My spidey senses are pinging big time, man. I’m pretty damned sure that things just went sideways six ways from Sunday.”

  “Yup, I’m pretty sure that you’re right,” Trae said and turned to face the direction he was walking.

  “But how do we get back to the ship?”

  “Just follow Cass,” Trae said. “He knows where the ship is.”

  Amanda looked up at Casraownan. “You know how to get to the ship?”

  “I do,” he said with a wide feline smile.

  Sarin star system

  Polsion Space Station

  The Vespa Bar and Grill

  September 18th, 2176 / Late Evening (Dragon time)

  D enise collapsed into her previous seat at the table with Andy. She laid her head down on crossed arms and let out a painful moan. She cringed as a guttural alien voice boomed over the station's intercoms. “Have you even moved from here?”

  “Nope.” Andy barely glanced away from the multitude of alien sporting events displayed on the myriad of screens around the bar. “So, what happened to you,” Andy asked without looking away. He crushed the paper-thin, magenta shell of an alien bar nut and fished out the meaty red chunks from the crushed shell.

  Denise groaned as she slowly rubbed the back of her neck. “I could really go for a drink right now.”

  “Is that good or that bad?” Andy asked without looking away from the video screens.

  “What happened to you?” Willy asked, taking a seat at the table.

  “Papa smurf,” she moaned.

  Willy shook his head and looked at her questioningly. “What?”

  Andy chuckled. “You really do not want to know, Willy. Hell, I didn't want to know. But there I was, minding my own business when this massive blue alien guy offered her a bar of something.” He crushed another hand full of alien bar nuts and blindly fished for the tasty bits without looking away from the screens.

  “Okay, okay, I can, unfortunately, see what you're getting at.” Willy leaned back in the chair and crossed his arms. He shook his head in an attempt to shake the image loose from his mind.

  “Excuse me, sir,” an odd warbling voice said. Willy turned to see an anxious and disgustingly bulbous pig-faced individual approach their table. Wringing its hands, it smiled an ivory yellow smile.

  “Oh my god, why does it sound like a pig is rooting around at the table?” Denise looked up in the direction of the noise. “Hu. Well, would you look at that.”

  “Can I help you,” Willy said, turning in his seat to face the bulbous faced alien.

  “Yes sir. I was wondering...or well, I was told...um...”

  “What the hell is it saying?” Denise looked up through blurry, half squinting eyes then buried her head back into her folded arms.

  “Why can't you understand him,” Willy asked. “You got the same implant as the rest of us.”

  “Because I took out both of our implants,” Andy said matter-of-factly through a pasty mouthful of the alien nuts.

  Willy sighed, then turned back to the alien. “Listen, I don't have all day. Spit it out if you're going to.”

  “Um...Well, you see...um...well...I was told that the madam here was accepting new clientele and was told to offer her this as compensation.” The alien held out a large gold bar that clanked heavily as he placed it on the table’s metal surface.

  Willy looked at Denise with a wavering certainty that
the universe had lost all control of its senses. “That's it, I'm going back to the ship,” he leapt to his feet and quickly walked away from the table.

  The alien nervously cleared his throat.

  “I think he’s waiting for an answer,” Andy said, laughing, then continued to loudly open mouth chewed the taffy-like nuts.

  “Nada mas,” Denise shook her head and grasped the golden bar, sliding it into her sleeve. “Nada, nein, no, zip, zilch, zero,” she formed the shape of a zero with a hand then laid her head back down on the cool surface of the table. “Go away,” she said into her arms, waiving away the alien.

  The young alien grunted something in a snorting grunt, and she looked back up at it. “Hey buddy, what did I just say? I’m not talking just to hear myself. Fuck off.” She gestured with a middle finger salute, then returned her head to its previously buried position.

  The alien exhaled sharply, then spun on his heels and walked away.

  “Um...” Andy stopped chewing as he watched the young alien speaking to others of its kind on the other side of the bar. “Um...hey, you,” he nudged Denise. “Shit, what was your name again?”

  “Whaaaat, the hell do you want? I just want to rest,” Denise groaned.

  “I'm not sure but I think you might have pissed off that last guy's dad or something,” Andy said.

  Denise groaned “Why do you say that?” The words muffled through her folded arms.

  “Do you hear what sounds like a pissed-off pig?”

  “Yeah,” she lifted her head and glanced around.

  “Well, it's coming from that big guy over there that the last guy you told to piss off went crying too. He kinda looks pissed. And big. Really freaking big.”

  Denise looked up to see the young alien demonstrating her motion of flipping him off to the large alien. “Oh shit, he's coming this way. Time to go!” She jumped to her feet, snagging Andy by the collar.

  “Hold on, wait, wait, wait.” Andy pulled against her. He quickly grabbed the two bowls of alien bar nuts from the table and dumped them into the breast pockets of his flight suit.

  “Fine. Fuck you,” she released his collar. “I'm outta here.”