Ram Terry looked even more sheepish than usual. “The ship never received orders concerning the infiltrator mode.” He paused and went on more hesitantly. “That’s the other thing. The infiltrator mode has been completely destroyed. If we try to leave here, we’ll probably be spotted and captured.”
Felix nodded with fake cheerfulness. “Don’t forget tortured. You forgot tortured.”
The sheep nodded sadly. “Yes, probably tortured.”
“You’re not meant to tell me that," said Felix exasperatedly.
“Yes, but I think its important for you to realize what sort of person Gabriella really is. She will stop at nothing to get what she desires. The Overdrive is of vital importance to her. With it she can increase her monopoly over Shiva controlled trade routes or use it as an edge over her Areopagite rivals. Either way she wins.”
“I know all this, your Holiness," replied Felix. “But she hasn’t got it yet.”
“And I will do everything in my power to ensure she does not. Only you and I hold full copies of the Overdrive data Felix. I am perfectly capable of thwarting Gabriella in the event I was captured; and sacrificing myself for the greater good if need be. You also should prepare yourself for the likelihood of that event.”
“Not bloody likely," said Felix vehemently. “I’ll get us out of here before that.”
He opened a storage locker above his head and began to rummage around looking for tools. Triumphantly he pulled out a large case, opened it and began examining the items contained within.
“Excellent," he said. “I’ll have us out of here in a jiffy." He opened another locker, pulled out a vacuum suit and began tugging it over his legs. After pulling the hood over his head, he opened a connection between his AI and the suit, ordering it to seal. Immediately, excess air was sucked from within, contouring the white suit to Felix’s body.
During this time, Ram Terry had been conferring with the ship.
“You’ll have to Felix. The ship has just detected six frigates and another PDS, all under full acceleration and in battle trim. They’ll be here in 10 minutes.”
“Let me guess; Gitanian and pissed right?” Felix shrugged and headed for the engineering section.
“What’s new?," he muttered.
◊
Sammael was, he knew, in deep shit. If he didn’t get the hostages for Gabriella then he was likely to be stranded here waiting for the full might of the Gitanian navy to descend upon him. She wanted her hostages badly. So badly in fact that even he was expendable and time was running out. Another PDS and six frigates would be in range in 10 minutes and if he didn’t have any hostages by then he may as well kiss his sorry arse goodbye.
He desperately needed one of Felix’s companions, probably Logan or Tarquin. Definitely not the woman he’d encountered in the airlock. He stroked the stump of his sword thoughtfully, remembering the ease with which she’d bested him. Not to worry. They’d meet again and next time he’d be prepared – with an Afer and a heavy duty plasma cannon.
As for the Overdrive and Felix, there was still no sign. Last reports indicated that they were still on the surface of the planet although they’d lost contact with their agent down there so they couldn’t be sure. Gabriella had received word from the space port that a mysterious ship claiming to be have Ram Terry on board had disappeared after being shot at by a PDS. He hoped it didn’t contain the Overdrive or Felix.
Sammael considered his situation. The station was largely in the control of the Areopagites now; the local garrison having been killed or in complete rout. Other visitors and residents of the station were confined to the lounges under heavy guard. He’d assigned squads to all decks and they were now searching the station systematically, eliminating any further resistance on the way. The landing bays and docking cradles were especially well guarded by a hand picked elite squad who were starting a ship by ship search. If he was a fugitive, he’d be looking to get on board a ship. Even if they managed to get that far and leave the station, Gabriella could disable their ship with a single shot from her Valkyrie.
He seemed to have all the options covered. It was just time. He needed more time. Even Gabriella’s mighty ship was no match for six fully armed frigates and a PDS on full alert.
His AI reported a priority message coming in. The sender proved to be one of his elite guard stationed at the docking bays. Her beautiful visage registered satisfaction as Sammael opened the flashing icon under his eyelid.
“Good news my lord. We investigated an explosion on one of the docking ledges. One of our slipmissiles targeted a ship landing there a couple of minutes ago. Life sign readings indicate some anomalies on board. I sent some of my squad in and they haven’t reported back yet.”
Sammael smiled grimly. “Excellent. That has to be them. Isolate the ship and wait for my arrival. I’ll be there in 2 minutes.”
This was going to be tight but Sammael was confident he could pull it off. He gathered 3 squads around him and moved quickly towards the docking platforms. He had 8 minutes to capture the hostage and get them back to Gabriella. No problem.
◊
“Seriously," Knights Captain Tynan was saying, “if you let me go, I’ll make it worth your while. And I do mean worth your while.” He winked at Crystal.
Crystal didn’t bother to turn around. “Shut your face or I’ll give you to the Gorilla.”
Tynan tried to look unperturbed but failed miserably.
“Right. Of course. No problem. Sorry.”
The small group was hurrying towards the docking platforms, now only a few hundred meters away. Beside Crystal floated Logan, unconscious and surrounded by a glowing blue field that she generated. Directly behind her marched Tynan, carefully watched by a grim Tarquin carrying Logan’s plasma cannon. Walter and Bruce brought up the rear, the latter carrying the somewhat battered Overdrive.
The corridor opened up into one of the main docking bays. Gabriella marched through confidently. This docking bay led directly to the ledge where the Puritan was docked. Safety was only moments away.
The docking bay was filled with ships in various stages of disrepair. Areas like this were used by ships to effect repairs that couldn’t be completed in the vacuum of the docking ledges.
Six angelic figures carrying plasma cannons moved to block their path.
Crystal kept walking. “Get out the way or die," she said.
The Angels opened fire.
She expanded her field to encompass her companions. The plasma fire dissipated harmlessly where it hit the glowing blue field.
“Take the Areopagite, Logan and the Overdrive and get back to the ship," she said to her companions, using a tone of command that brooked no arguments. “I’ll hold them here and be with you shortly."
Under her protective field, the others moved to the airlock leading to the Puritan. Crystal stopped and stood protectively in front of the entrance, daring the Areopagite Angels to attack her. After the initial attack by the plasma weapons, the squad of Angels had drawn back, seemingly content to wait.
She didn’t have to wait long. Moments later, Sammael and 3 squads of heavily armed Angels hurried into the docking bay. Cystal made sure that all of her friends were through the airlock before drawing her sword. She smiled broadly at the massed ranks of Angels arrayed before her, all pointing plasma cannons at her head.
“Come on boys," she said cheerfully, “you’re not scared of a little bitty girl like me are you?”
◊
Felix had just finished sealing the leak in the Ion drive’s reaction chamber when he heard a commotion coming from the ship’s lounge. He dropped his tools and raced down the ship’s short corridor, moving through two pressure doors. He slowed, peeking carefully into the lounge.
Five shepherds and one sheep surrounded the bodies of two winged figures lying slumped on the lounge’s floor.
“What’s going on here?” said Felix, hurrying inside.
“I think we might have been rumbled," said Ram Terry. �
��These two," he said, indicating the bodies lying on the floor, “tried to sneak in. I disabled their fields and my faithful Shepherds did the rest.”
“Right," said Felix, looking decidedly uneasy. “Are we likely to expect any more company?”
“Oh, assuredly so," replied Ram Terry. “Crystal and the others are due back any moment now. I am more than confident in her abilities to overcome the likes of these.”
“No, I mean…oh never mind,” he said, frowning.
“How’s the repairs going?” Ram Terry asked politely.
“Done. We can leave as soon as the others are on board.”
“Good," said Ram Terry. “We still have 5 minutes before the Gitanians are in range.”
“Well, that’s good news," replied Felix. Sarcasm seemed to get quite lost in the Holy Ram.
The lounged airlock beeped loudly and rotated.
“Who’s that?” a worried Felix asked.
“I don’t know,” replied Ram Terry. “The airlock’s been overridden.”
He gave orders and the five Shepherds spread themselves around the airlock. It opened and Tarquin emerged, carrying a body over his shoulder and narrowly avoiding a whack in the head from one of the stave carrying Shepherds.
“Whoa there cowboys. Take it easy. Its me.”
Felix released the breath he’d been holding with a rush.
“Thank fuck for that.” He eyed the body draped over Tarquin’s shoulder. “Who’s that?," he said with some apprehension.
“Logan. Got hit by some microprojectiles. Some semi major damage to his chest but he should be alright. He’s out cold.” He looked around the lounge. “Where’s the med bay?”
Felix indicated a small alcove at the rear of the lounge and hurried to get out of the way. The lounge was quickly becoming crowded as Walter and Bruce made their entrance, ushering in a very subdued Knights Captain Tynan. Tarquin made his way through the small press of people and deposited his human cargo into the bed shaped medical unit. The unit beeped reassuringly as it started to administer coagulants and newskin to the charred area.
Satisfied, Tarquin turned around and pointed one meaty finger.
“You," he said, indicating a bewildered Tynan who was standing as far away as was possible to get from every other inhabitant of the lounge. He was trying hard to look inconspicuous.
“Who me?," replied Tynan nervously.
Tarquin sneered at him. “Yes, you. Sit.” He swiveled, pointing his finger at one of the couches situated as far from Bruce as possible, returning his arm on the same arc to point directly at Tynan.
Tynan moved quickly, casting a wary glance at Bruce. The Gorilla favored him with a toothy smile, canines prominent, watching intently as the Areopagite sat down meekly in the spot indicated. Tarquin picked out two burly shepherds to keep watch over him.
“Hit him if he moves," he instructed. The two shepherds grasped their staves eagerly. Tynan suddenly developed a nervous tic in the corner of one eye, much to Bruce’s glee whose grin had broadened dramatically.
Felix looked around wildly as Walter and Bruce collapsed into the lounge seating. “Where’s Crystal?”
Walter looked up wearily, reluctantly meeting Felix’s gaze. “The brave girl covered us as we made our escape. She’s outside, holding off the Areopagites so we can get clear."
“We’re not leaving her," said Felix, resealing his vacuum suit and heading purposefully towards the airlock.
“No-one suggested we should," said Tarquin’s voice behind him. Felix turned and regarded his friend. Tarquin was still securing a full suit of assault armor even as he moved into the lounge, the suit quickly adhering and sealing over his limbs and torso. Logan’s plasma cannon was gripped firmly in one hand.
He marched towards Felix and pushed him back into the arms of two shepherds. “Hold him," he instructed.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?," an enraged Felix demanded, struggling against the Shepherds grip. “I have to go get her."
Tarquin was already cycling the airlock. “You’re not wearing armor and you don’t know how to use a plasma cannon. The Areopagite’s will cut you down. I’ll be back with her before you know it."
“You’ll have to be," said Ram Terry. “You have less than 5 minutes before the Gitanian reinforcements arrive."
Sheep and man stared at each other. Ram Terry eyed Tarquin levelly, meeting the man’s gaze through the armor’s thick visor.
“If you’re not back by then, we have to go. The Overdrive must be safeguarded.”
“Bastard," screamed Felix, attempting to tear himself from the firm grip of the Shepherds. “Fuck the Overdrive. I want Crystal."
“I understand," said Tarquin, nodding at Ram Terry. He turned to Felix and met his friend’s anguished face.
“Don’t worry, I’m a professional." With a last wink and a cherry wave, he stepped into the airlock and disappeared.
Felix sagged in his captors arms. “Bring her back to me Tarq," he whispered.
◊
“Well?. Where’s my fucking hostages? Honestly Sammael. I’ve got six fucking frigates and one big fucking PDS station about to blow us out of the cosmos and here you are, sitting on your arse and wanking yourself off for all I know. Do I have to do everything myself? What did I do…”
Against all sane logic, Sammael cut off Princess Gabriella in mid spiel.
“You’ll have your hostages my Princess. Two minutes.” Then he closed the link. He’d face the consequences later. No one ever cut off Gabriella. Ever. The last person who did lost their empire, their wives, 36 assorted concubines, their testicles, and eventually, after prolonged torture, their lives. Sammael knew he was on very shaky ground indeed but then again, he had little to loose and even less time. Facing Gabriella’s intimidating wrath was draining and demoralizing. Feelings he could do without considering the opposition.
He looked up. Twenty meters away stood the woman he’d faced and been thoroughly routed by. Despite himself, he contemplated the similarities between routed and rooted. She was a good looking woman. Just the sort who would look good strapped down on his work bench, legs akimbo, begging for it. Her mouth looked like it could scream to. And it would. Once he started using the knives…
Vaguely, he realized someone was talking to him.
“My lord?” One of his Angelic shock troops was looking anxiously at him. “I brought the Afer back from the ship as you directed. Your orders?."
Sammael smiled savagely, shaking himself out of his reverie. “Excellent." He would have her though. She was too perfect to kill. Yet. He would make her pay for the humiliation.
Crystal was staring at him coolly. Her level gaze had never once wavered from his; enraging, goading. He grabbed the Afer from a nearby Angel, carefully sighting down the long muzzle. “Hope you enjoy this bitch," he muttered, “because I certainly will."
The Angel directly to his right disappeared in an exploding fireball of plasma. Sammael was so close that he could feel the heat even through his armor, liquid drops sizzling on it as he backed hastily away from his melted brethren. Around him, other figures were falling as they too were engulfed by mysterious bolts, seemingly rained down from the heavens.
“What the fuck’s happening?," he bellowed to no one in particular. In the confusion, the woman had disappeared. His troops were being attacked by an adversary unseen. Even as he staggered about in confusion more of his troops were cut down.
A sword wielding Valkyrie appeared in their midst, hacking limbs and heads from his disorientated troops, seemingly without any resistance whatsoever. The blue field surrounding her made it impossible for his Angels to counterattack.
He sighted along the Afer again, intent on making no mistakes this time. It would have been nice to play with the women but she was simply too dangerous to live.
He fired and his aim was true, the azure bolt immediately dissipating her protective field. Suddenly she was vulnerable. He shouted his triumph and his shock troops rallie
d, surrounding the woman and pounding her diminutive body with micro projectiles and plasma blasts which she evaded with dazzling displays of athletic ability. It was only a matter of time until they nailed her but time was a luxury he definitely did not possess.
He motioned for one of his lieutenants.
“My lord?." The man radiated complete deference and servitude. He liked that. It served as an indicator that his star was in ascendance.
“Take a squad and board that ship. Pilot it out and dock with the Blazing Trumpet. Her Highness will have her hostages.”
The angel bowed and departed, motioning for several others to join him. Sammael turned his attention back to the woman. More than 20 Angels now surrounded her, although that number was gradually diminishing as she made sporadic forays into their midst, her blade a blur as it cut down her Angelic assailants. It was a battle of attrition however. Light score marks on her body indicated where she’d been brushed by a plasma blast or a micro projectile detonation. She was slowing down. The angels around her could sense this and were closing in for the kill.
A heavy plasma blast knocked Sammael off his feet. When he raised his head, a tall figure, clad in full assault armor stood above him, plasma cannon pointing menacing at his head. Before the strange figure could fire, four Angelic shock troops jumped on him, forcing him to the ground and pinning his arms behind his back. The plasma cannon slid across the floor, out of easy reach.
Sammael regained his feet. He sneered at the prone figure and in one quick motion, bent and ripped off the suits helmet. He smiled when he saw who lay beneath.
Raising his head, he shouted an order. “Forget the woman." She would have been a pleasing trophy but there would be another time. “We have our hostage. Back to the ship.”
He lingered as his troops hurried out of the docking bay. The woman stood, exhausted and impotent, as several Angels carried Tarquin's body away. He met her gaze again. He couldn’t leave things like this. It would be too much like a retreating horde after raping and pillaging a local village. He pulled his plasma pistol and fired.
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