by West, Edward
“I don't have any other choice.” Swift replied.
“You don't have any other choice?” she asked “Don't we, your crew, have a say in this?”
“I didn't mean it that way.” he explained “I've already put enough of us at risk. At least this way it's just me that's...well in trouble.”
“In trouble? Are you kidding us? You could be killed. These are dangerous men. Aren't you scared just a little bit, or are you that cocky?”
“I'm scared to death. I currently fear for Zhao and Cookie's lives and when I get over there I'll still be afraid for my own. But this has to be done, and I'm not going to run from it. I'm going to punch fear in the mouth.”
-36-
Gin's heart was racing and pounding so hard that he thought it'd leap from his mouth if he spoke. What was going to happen next? Swift must have a plan of some sort. But if he did, why wasn't he sharing it? He figured he'd ask Revy what she thought and turned to her only to find that her fists were balled so tightly that her knuckles were white. Tears were dripping down her face and onto her navigation console. Suddenly it hit Gin. Swift had no plan at all. He was going in alone, and might not come back alive.
Gin stood up and walked over to Swift “I'm going with you.” he said.
Swift gave him a half smile and nodded “Okay Gin, hold up your hands.”
Gin did as he was told and Swift feinted a punch to his face. Gin flinched and waved his hands in front of his face frantically. When he realized that Swift didn't actually attack he felt foolish.
Swift patted him on the arm and took off his leather jacket “Maybe next time dude.” he said. He then walked over to Revy and held out his jacket. When she didn't take it from him, he laid it down on the navigation console and walked away. Just as he made it to the doorway she spoke.
“Come back alive.” was all that she said.
He looked at her for a few seconds before a bit of blue light flashed across his eyes and he called out “Be right back! Don't let Gin steal my seat!”
Swift made his way to the teleporter room, trying quickly to come up with a plan along the way. He was hoping that this would be one of those it's crazy enough to work moments, but no. Even if he opened the possibilities up to craziness, he only came up with “say something funny and then punch a lot of people”. Swift groaned loudly as he walked into the teleporter room.
“You sure about this big guy?” Jay asked as he brought up the teleporter program's Graphical User Interface and configured coordinates for the transfer.
“Oh man.” Swift walked over to the transfer platform “I get the feeling that this is going to be really awesome, or really dangerous.” he said.
“I've learned that most things that are really awesome are really dangerous.” Jay replied and added “Get ready!”
“I'd settle for dangerously awesome.” Swift said as he prepared to be transferred, which was a lot like being on the Gravitron at the county fair. Only much faster, no seat belts, and it sort of felt like it went inside of you.
“Dangerously awesome huh? Just don't die.” Jay said.
“Haha, yeah right? I'm gonna transfer over there and feed.” Swift announced.
“Yeah, okay troll.” Jay said and began the transfer, causing Swift to wish he hadn't eaten such a big lunch that day.
Zhao and Cookie arrived on LaCroix safe and unharmed while Swift materialized in the teleporter room of the captured ship. He engaged Wrath while still aboard LaCroix, so it was primed and ready when he found himself surrounded by laser toting rebels. If they were armed with firearms that made use of mechanical parts and gunpowder then it'd be a different story. However due to the disruptive effects that AKE can have on electrical equipment, the rebel soldiers might as well have been aiming LED flashlights at Swift.
Daschair stepped forward with a slimy, smug look on his face and said “So we meet face to face little boy. Are you ready to beg for your life?”
Swift thought it pretty gross that this creep was enjoying himself so much “Why should I beg for something I already have?” he asked. Swift hadn't even bothered to look at Daschair as he spoke; he'd already seen enough on his ship's screen earlier. Now he was sizing up the soldiers around him, noting possible threats due to size and assumed physical ability. A few of the rebels had chuckled at Swift's remark, but Daschair was not pleased.
“Well you can have some cuffs too-” Daschair shouted, but it sounded dangerously close to a scream “-and you didn't even have to beg for them! Take this brat to the brig!”
A rebel soldier approached Swift, taking out a pair of handcuffs. Swift shifted his stance, stepping into the soldier's personal space without granting him time to react. Two uppercuts, a left and a right. The blows were fast but nasty; sounding like the crack of a whip and causing the soldier's head to bobble as he fell to the deck.
The other soldiers opened fire, or at least tried to. Their laser pistols made weak pew pew noises and the gun muzzles blinked lamely. Swift took a few measured steps to the next soldier, punching him in the chest and snapping his wrist up to catch him in the jaw. The soldier began to gasp, obviously confused at which part of his body he should hold to ease the pain, and sat on the deck desperately trying to catch his breath. The next soldier Swift punched in the forehead, instantly dispatching him to dreamland. He then stepped back, side stepped and punched another in the nose. This soldier yelped and then sneezed blood down the front of his uniform. Daschair panicked and fled the room upon seeing his soldiers drop one by one at the hands of a teenager. A high-school student for crying out loud!
Swift tried to chase after him, but a guard moved to block his way. This one was taller and seemed more formidable than the others. He took a boxing stance and threw some jabs into the air between them.
“They call me Chief!” he exclaimed “Let's see what you've got there kid!” he said as he took off his uniform jacket and threw it to the side. Chief was wearing a sleeveless shirt underneath, which was jam packed with muscles.
Swift stretched his arms and rolled his shoulders “They call me Swift.” he said “I'd take my coat off too, but I already turned things up a notch back on my ship.”
Chief appeared to have a good bit of upper body strength if being insanely ripped was any indicator, so Swift figured he should be careful not to get smacked up.
Chief started the fight with a feint, flanked and then threw a jab that Swift ducked. This created an opening, but as Swift moved to counter he found himself dodging yet another punch aimed at his head. This guy was pretty fast, maybe even a lightning bruiser.
While throwing yet another jab, Chief bellowed “You can't always be afraid Swift! Sometimes you've gotta just dive in!”
Chief then threw a serious hay-maker that Swift dodged by a hair. This was followed by an upper cut that Swift sidestepped. Now was the time to counter attack, and Swift began to strike Chief with a series of heavy body blows. Each strike caused Chief's body to rock to one side and then the other. Just as Swift thought he might be able to finish the brute, he saw Chief pull back a large fist. Swift ducked under this hook and rolled between Chief's legs, turning to punch him in the hamstring. A spasm of pain shot throughout Chief's leg and he fell on one knee. Swift stepped to the side of Chief and landed a downward strike to his jaw, putting him down on the deck.
“T-that was cheap...” Chief moaned.
“True, but as cheap as it was, you still couldn't afford it.” Swift said “This is your surrender. Stand trial, atone for your crimes and do the time.”
By now the remaining soldiers had already fled along with Daschair. The only ones left were those on the deck, nursing their injuries. Swift left the room while locking the door behind him. He knew the fight was knocked out of those guys, so any sort of vengeful pursuit was unlikely. In the event that they might try to escape via the teleporter room, their attempt would be futile, because LaCroix was waiting right outside.
Swift made his way through the corridors cautiously, checking
every space he came across while wondering what had become of the original crew. It's possible that the rebel raiding party killed them all, he thought, but it isn't probable. It was a common practice for rebels to capture imperial soldiers and crews in order to put them to work in the mines on resource planets such as Pluto. This being the case, and provided that the entire crew was being held together, the hangar bay seemed to be the best bet. Perhaps he might find that slimy rebel captain there as well.
Swift stopped at the nearest access terminal and disabled the communications block. Now that his comlink was active once more, Swift contacted his crew and filled them in.
“So that's it. I believe they're hijacking imperial auxiliary ships and sending out bogus distress signals to ambush whoever is sent as support. Due to the nature of the distress signal and the location of the decoy ship, they can be sure that the signal won't attract numerous imperial ships in response. Then they capture the crew that has come to help and gain more prisoners and ships in the process. Once they're done, they use the captured ships to move freely through imperial space to the Belt Line and make their escape. It's very amateurish.”
Allie sighed with relief and said “Good job Swift. Now all we have to do is notify command and go home.” Yet again Swift's risky behavior failed to amount to tragedy, she thought.
“I agree. Contact Mr. Method and give him the basics. I'll do a more detailed report later.”
As the president of the ESC program, Mr. Method performs many duties at Arbalest Solar Academy. Among these duties he acts as a liaison between ESCs and the imperial military.
“Alright.” Allie said “Make your way to the teleporter room so we can transfer you back and go home.”
“Nope.” Swift said promptly.
“Then I'll send Revy and Jay-”
“No. It's too dangerous. Wrath can protect me, but not all three of us at once. At least not effectively.”
“This isn't a good idea. You don't know what lies ahead; they could have more than laser weaponry.” she warned him.
“Nah. It's not like they have a tank or anything.”
Swift ended the link and continued to make his way towards the hangar bay. He stopped just outside of the entrance and dropped to a crouch to peek around the corner. A surprised rebel soldier, who had been waiting in ambush, looked down at Swift. He moved to attack, but Swift was quicker and knocked him off of his feet and onto his back with an uppercut square to the jaw. The soldier on the other side of the entrance tried to grab Swift, who stepped away and threw a hook. The soldier dodged this and put his hands up. They squared off, one circling the other. Swift blocked the soldier's jab and countered with a punch to the ribs. The soldier took a couple steps back and drew his laser pistol.
Swift said, cracking his knuckles “Ahhh. Just when it was getting good.” and began to approach the soldier. Click click, pew pew. Wrath had inadvertently disabled this weapon as well. Swift knocked the soldier out cold with a solid punch and peered into the hangar bay. He found it odd that it was so empty.
“Looks kinda shady...” he said and walked in.
-37-
Daschair greeted him from an overhead walkway “I've gotta say that I'm impressed kid! Really! The rebellion could use more people like you!” he said, clapping slowly as if actually applauding Swift's progress.
“Like I'd ever join your cause! And just what do you mean more people like you?” Swift asked.
It could have been a simple comment, but the soldiers he had fought were pretty mediocre at best. Were there hidden super soldiers of some sort, perhaps a trump card that this clown had hidden up his sleeve?
“You'll have to beat it out of me kid!” Daschair taunted.
Swift made a run towards the walkway. He then tried to use Wrath to enhance his jump, but it wasn't enough. His fingers had barely grazed the bottom of the walkway before he fell back onto the deck below.
Daschair watched this and roared with hideous laughter “You should have drank more milk kid, then maybe you'd be tall enough to reach me!” he shouted.
Swift tried again, but this time he leaped off of two nearby cargo crates to boost himself higher. He caught the handrail and hoisted himself over it and onto the walkway.
“Oh sh-” Daschair began to shout, but never had the chance to finish. Swift used Wrath to propel himself forward, quickly gliding across the distance, punching Daschair with enough force to send him flying across the walkway.
Swift stood over him with a fist cocked back and said “Jigs up clown. Spit it out!”
Daschair weakly spit out a couple of teeth.
“Well...no.” Swift said “Not literally you see.”
“Fool! You should have joined us! Now you die!”
For the sake of reading comprehension, the words you just read do not reflect the slurring or whistling, caused by Daschair's loss of teeth, that Swift was now laughing at.
“You'll see!” Daschair threatened as he took out a small device and pressed the big red button on the front of it. Swift laughed even harder.
“No way man. I bet your bark is worse than your bite! You think that big red button is going to gum up my works? To tell ya the tooth, I don't think so!”
While Swift had been making one corny joke after another, a low rumble began to fill the hangar bay. The sound began to grow so much in volume and intensity that Swift had stopped laughing and actually began to worry. Just a bit. Then the rumbling stopped and the hangar bay was enveloped in a tense silence.
Swift shrugged and said “Man whatev-” but was cut off by several loud, metallic thuds. He watched the floor below closely, waiting to see what this new threat could be. When he saw the frighteningly huge muzzle of a plasma cannon, he understood instantly what came next. Wasting no time Swift rushed a burst of energy into his fist and collapsed the entire walkway with a single stroke of his fist. Both Swift and Daschair fell not a second too soon, as a plasma blast exploded into the wall overhead where they had just been; the plasma residue having been so hot that it caused the reinforced steel of the ship's wall to melt like butter. Swift freed himself of the walkway debris and frantically pinched at his collar, looking for his comlink.
“Tank! Walking tank!” Swift shouted to his crew.
Allie quickly responded to his distress call and asked “Model?”
Swift replied “Looks like a WTX. I wanna say it's the 9800GT.”
Allies heart sunk as she punched in the search for the tank model. She was aware as well as Swift, a single student versus any model of walking tank was a dire situation. “The WTX-9800GT has heavy firepower and impressive durability due to it being a bipedal model with forward facing legs and higher power capacity; allowing it to carry additional weapons while still enabling it to have advanced targeting and sensory technology. It lacks shielding however, and requires a pilot to function.” she read. Allie added in a sing song voice “It's not like they have a tank or anything.”
“Arrrgh!” Swift growled into his comlink.
“Okay grumpy pants, calm down, take a deep breath and...RUN! We'll transfer you as soon as you can reach the teleporter room.” Allie closed the link with Swift and rerouted the signal to Jay in LaCroix's teleporter room.
“Jay start pre-staging a transfer and have Felix prepare Pol's Voice.”
Back in the hangar bay Swift sprinted towards the exit, his speed enhanced by Wrath. Just then a mini rocket raced by; just missing him and colliding with the exit. Swift instinctively shielded himself with Wrath, but was knocked back and onto the deck by the explosion. He rolled over and looked up at the walking tank, which was now preparing for another attack. He squeezed his comlink.
“I'm trapped. The WT caved in the exit.”
Allie was up in a flash and moved to the pilot's seat while issuing commands to the crew “Revy go down to our loading bay, port side, and position yourself in front of the loading bay doors with Nine Breaker ready.” she said “Gin take control of the ship's weapons. Charge the canno
ns to breach and rotate Pol's Voice ninety degrees to face port side. I'll bring us around.”
Swift was back on his feet and had just tumbled away from the walking tank's latest attack when Allie's voice came over the comlink “Swift you just need to hold on for a few minutes! We're coming to help!” she said, but Swift didn't have time to respond.
The walking tank had discarded it's plasma cannon, and now aimed a massive laser rifle at Swift. A high pitched whine issued from the chamber of the rifle followed by the boom of discharged electrons. Swift attempted to use the energy stored in Wrath to deflect the shot, and a catastrophic shriek filled the hangar as both energies collided, lighting arcing and flashing before the shot was deflected up and away. Sparks rained down from the collapsing ceiling and debris crashed onto the deck around them. It took some effort for Swift catch his breath. He had never parried an attack of that magnitude before, and found it took a considerable amount of stamina to do so. On top of that, this had been the first time that Swift had used Wrath in a real combat scenario. Just then the lights in the hangar bay began to flicker and Swift got an idea.
-38-
The walking tank pilot paused from astonishment as Swift deflected his shot. Once he regained his wits he fired off a three shot burst, but Swift carefully dodged these and proceeded to stop once more to regain his strength. Spotting a sign of weakness from his opponent, the pilot switched his rifle to fully automatic; intending to overwhelm him with sheer attack speed. Swift began to move in sync with the flickering of the lights, making sure to never be in the same general area once they came back on. This helped give off the illusion that Swift was warping around the hangar bay. The pilot would not fooled by such an amateurish tactic however, and turned on the walking tank's thermal sensors to track him. A little darkness wouldn't turn this fight around.
Yet Swift wasn't using the darkness to hide, but to flank; the use of Wrath for bursts of speed leaving confusing imprints on the thermal sensors. Once he was close enough, Swift made a zigzag dash towards the walking tank, jumped, and landed on it's chest. The last recorded image on the thermal sensors was the orange silhouette of a young man pulling back a fist.