The Convoy

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The Convoy Page 18

by Drew Bell


  Chapter 16

  Octorl masterfully edged the shuttle from its collision course with CLERGY 6, the bow of the vessel nearly scraping against minute vehicle.

  “Careful now.” Garth cautioned as Octorl banked slightly past the command bridge of CLERGY 6.

  “CLERGY 6 doesn’t have windows; they would be a structural weakness and could enable escapes.” Lalia explained to Miles.

  The shuttle wavered slightly in the wake of the larger vessel, and began to shake violently. Lalia fastened herself to her seat as did Miles; Garth wound his arms around the cargo net and bounced off of the roof of the shuttle.

  “Are you ok?” Miles turned back with concern.

  “Yes. I’m fine.” Garth assured them as the shuttle finally stopped shaking.

  “We will need to bore a hole in the vessel to gain entry.” Lalia directed, “We can land the shuttle near the aft end of the vessel, and Octorl can weld the weaker panels beneath the Idinium Repulsors.”

  “The panels behind the repulsors are weaker?” Garth asked.

  “Yes. They needed to be flexible for the movement of the repulsors, and they are coated with ice which will make boring a hole that much easier.” Lalia answered.

  The shuttle swiveled sharply and flew into the narrow gap between the icy repulsor blast and the hull of the ship. The windshield of the cockpit glazed over with frost and steam from the passenger’s breath. Each of the three organic passengers donned survey suits, Garth and Lalia paused to allow Miles to transfer from his baggy suit into a more appropriate form fitting suit. Garth lowered the pressure in the cabin and released the hatch so Octorl could hover three feet over to a crinkled panel, his tentacles whipped and the light tips on each shined brighter, lasers beamed from the tips and the eight arms preformed an odd dance. The creaking of the panel under pressure proved that the panel was giving, a loud snap echoed down the corridor only to be absorbed by the vacuum of space. The three carefully lowered themselves into the vessel, cautious as to not puncture their pressurized air-tight suits on the serrated edge of the metal, save Miles slight misstep and slip the trio cleared the metal edge and entered an adjacent corridor.

  The door hissed closed, which signaled that the corridor was again air-tight, the three unfastened their helmets. The prison vessel was eerily quiet, the three could hear faintly in the distance the loud chanting and yelling of the prisoners. The air was damp and smelled like wet dog to Miles, but the taste of the air reminded him more of gasoline.

  “What is that smell?” Miles asked.

  “That is the residual burn from plasma blasts.” Lalia answered, directing his attention to the red and black painted stripes that cut across the white walls of the corridor; singe marks the size of hockey pucks were burnt through the metal paneling to the wires behind.

  “Octorl,” Garth called, “Bring up a map for us.”

  Mile shivered as he exhaled; steam rose from his breath.

  The robot obediently flashed on his face a small diagram. Garth traced his fingers along the maze-like pattern of the prison ship, they had boarded near the middle line of the ship; they were effectively on the equator between the prison block and the officer’s chambers.

  “We need to go here.” Lalia directed their attention to the middle portion of the ship. “Thankfully, Detention Block D isn’t too far from the repulsors.”

  Lalia led the group with Octorl hovering quietly behind, Miles whispered:

  “Where is everyone?”

  “I don’t know. Its pretty late, the officers are probably asleep, there aren’t many prisoners on this side of the ship. We are between sides, so patrols are infrequent.” Garth reasoned.

  One patrol member rounded the corner at the end of the hall; he turned to face the four heading his direction. He reached for his holster, but Lalia tackled him, she raised her fist to punch but his elbow connected with her jaw. He pulled his gun, but was unable to aim it before Garth kicked it from his hand. Garth pressed his foot against the patrol member’s throat:

  “Shh.” Garth hissed. Garth then motioned for Miles to come out of cover and fasten the patrol member with his own restraints. The flexible bands snapped onto the member’s wrists and the two dragged him into an empty office they then latched shut.

  Garth reached to help Lalia back to her feet: “Are you alright there?” he asked as he reached for the patrol’s discarded gun.

  She spat blood on the floor, “Yeah. I’m fine. But you both need to realize that there will be a lot more guards than this one. I thought you said that he would be useful.” She directed at Miles.

  “I already showed you I am pretty accurate.” Miles defended.

  “Yes. But you need to use it. Obviously don’t shoot to kill, but our whole mission could have ended just now.” Lalia said frustrated.

  “I understand.” Miles finished.

  They continued down the hall, but stopped and took a step back; they had passed the central security surveillance for the detention level. Lalia typed at the console;

  “My security clearance has already been voided.” Lalia explained as the console beeped loudly.

  “Try my clearance.” Garth suggested, but the pass code failed.

  Miles pushed the two aside, with a bloodcurdling yell he slammed his palms against the door, the metal creaked and bent slightly. The light emanating from his arms dwindled and he gasped for air.

  “Are you alright?” Garth caught him as he fell to the floor.

  “Yeah, I’m good. But that knocked the air out of me.” Miles coughed.

  Lalia slid her slender body through the doors and began to type at the console; the screens in front of her flickered to life showing dozens of inmates shuffling down brightly lit corridors.

  “They are transporting all of the prisoners right now!” She exclaimed.

  Garth laid down Miles and approached to get a view for himself, on each of the monitors prisoners were being escorted by small squads of patrol officers.

  “What do we do now?” Garth asked, “All of the guards are active, we counted on no one being on patrol.”

  “They are moving towards the largest detention block.” Octorl observed through the slit of the door, unable to fit through the crack.

  “All of the prisoners in one place. Why?” Miles asked.

  “I’m not sure.” Lalia muttered, her eyes glued to the screen.

  “If we don’t move now, then we will lose Galio for sure.” Garth turned to face Lalia.

  “Agreed. We need to get him out now.” Lalia voiced, her eyes still stuck on the monitor.

  With a shock, Lalia quickly reached for the console, her fingers quickly swiping at the control pad until the camera had panned towards the cells of Detention Block ‘D’, Galio sitting in his cell against the cage. But what caught Miles attention were the adjacent cells;

  “Look! The whole detention block is empty!” Miles exclaimed, now standing again and leaning over Lalia’s chair to view the screen.

  “They moved all of the prisoners in a perimeter around the detention block.” Garth observed.

  “The guards are all assigned to hold Galio.” Miles thought out loud.

  “But why then...” Garth’s voiced droned out.

  “Why would they leave the prisoners without guards in the surrounding corridors?” Lalia finished.

  The three stared the monitors until Octorl interrupted them:

  “It would appear that our shuttle has been discovered.” He said mechanically.

  “We need to get going. Things are only going to get harder.” Miles ushered them through the slit.

  The corridor ended at a large metal door which hissed open. The doors parted revealing an enormous cell block completely empty, save a tall burly Callos and a patrol Callos on each side. Miles inhaled deeply, his arms were again enveloped in light, he faced his palms at the Callos, but the burly Callos spoke:

  “Hello. I am Elioc Barras, this is my ship, and you are not welcome here.”

 
Lalia raised her arms into a fighting stance, Garth reached for his gun, and Miles gritted his teeth.

 

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