by Jake Bible
“Then consider us visitors,” Mug said.
“Is he a visitor?” Cookie asked, moving a couple steps closer to Sha Morgoal and the boy. “Is that boy here on spring break? That it?”
“Stay where you are, cat,” Sha Morgoal said. “I would hate for my tail to spasm accidentally and squeeze the head off of my guest here.”
“Dylan? That’s your name, right, son?” Mug asked. “Would you consider yourself this man’s guest?”
Geist knew his job and it wasn’t to find any scrambler. While Cookie and Mug kept the crime lord occupied, Geist slowly moved from spot to spot, very careful not to draw attention to himself. He made his way to the far wall again and pressed up against it, giving his body a couple seconds to adjust fully to the new camouflage. Once he was sure he was perfectly acclimated, he sidestepped his way around the room, getting into position for when either Cookie or Mug made the call.
“I know you’re coming for me, Tcherian!” Sha Morgoal shouted, his snake eyes hunting the room for Geist. “You even think of sneaking up on me and I pop the boy’s head like a zit!”
“Dylan? Are you listening to me?” Mug asked.
The boy nodded then stopped as Sha Morgoal’s tail constricted further, turning the boy’s skin to a bright pink bordering on a choked purple.
“Good, Dylan,” Mug said. “Now, son, I ain’t gonna ask you to do nothing that will get you killed. But when I tell you to do what I’m going to tell you to do, you cannot hesitate. Are we understood?”
Dylan’s head was held perfectly still, but he blinked a few times.
“That’s good, that’s good,” Mug said. “Cookie?”
“I got him,” Cookie replied.
“You have nothing!” Sha Morgoal hissed. “Kill me and you will find out just how much nothing you have!”
Cookie sighed. “What the fo does that mean? How much nothing? Nothing is nothing, snake face. You can’t have more nothing.”
“Cookie, calm down,” Mug said.
“But did you hear him?” Cookie snarled. “Who says things like that? I tell you, Mug, I hate criminals. I wish we could just be back in the War and fight Skrangs and B’clo’nos like we used to. Crud made sense then.”
“Cookie, now is not the time for this, you hear me?” Mug said, moving closer and closer to the long wedding table and Sha Morgoal. “We are soldiers, not politicians. We’re given a job and we finish that job.”
“You will be finishing nothing,” Sha Morgoal said. “I will count to five and you will leave or the boy dies.”
“Boy dies and you die,” Cookie said. “You get that, right?”
“He speaks the truth, Morgoal,” Mug said. “You hurt that boy and you will get hurt yourself.”
“But the boy will be dead and that will not look good on you,” Sha Morgoal said. He laughed. It was a dry, lisping noise. “They send Drop Team Zero to come for me and take my leverage. The infamous Drop Team Zero all for one councilman’s son. Why do you think that is?”
“Leverage?” Mug asked. “What leverage are you talking about here?”
“Kill me and you never find out,” Sha Morgoal said. “And believe me, you will want to find out.”
“Will we now,” Mug said.
“Just let me shoot him, Mug,” Cookie said. “I have the shot. I can put one between his eyes before he can squeeze that tail even a millimeter tighter.”
“I don’t think that will be necessary,” Mug said. “Geist?”
“Close your eyes, kid!” Geist yelled from directly behind Cookie.
Geist opened his mouth and a small tube popped up from under his tongue. He exhaled as hard and fast as he could and a thin, perfectly clear stream of liquid shot from the tube. The liquid covered the distance from his mouth to Sha Morgoal at a speed that shouldn’t have been possible. The crime lord didn’t have a chance to flinch as it hit him squarely in the eyes.
The kid, Dylan, screeched as some of the liquid splashed onto his cheek and temple, but he had done what Geist had said and closed his eyes tight.
“Alive!” Mug yelled as Cookie squeezed the trigger on the carbine.
Sha Morgoal dropped. Dylan scrambled away, his eyes still closed, and collided with the wedding table. He toppled over it and landed hard on the floor as Mug rushed to the raised area, leaping over the boy and the table with one powerful thrust of her massive haunches. Cookie moved in and planted a boot firmly against Sha Morgoal’s chest, the carbine aimed for the spot between the crime lord’s quickly swollen and pus-filled eyes.
“What…? What happened?” Sha Morgoal whispered.
“You foed up, crudface,” Cookie said.
“Cookie?” Mug asked. “How we looking?”
“Tagged him in the shoulder,” Cookie said. “He’ll live.”
“Do Slinghasps have shoulders?” Geist asked as he dropped his camouflage and knelt by Dylan. “Yeah, sure, they have arms, but are the arms connected to real shoulders?”
“Slinghasps have shoulders,” Mug said as she lifted Sha Morgoal up by the front of his bloody shirt. “But some just ain’t got souls.”
“Let’s not be bigoted,” Hole said from the grand ballroom’s doors. Most of the crowd had escaped as soon as Zero made its presence known, so Hole sauntered easily through the ballroom. Sauntered backwards with a plasma rifle to her shoulder, making sure no ambitious guards decided to make a move and free their boss. “Slinghasps are a generally peaceful and helpful race.”
“I was specifically addressing this piece of crud,” Mug said, holding Sha Morgoal up in the air.
“Geist? How is the boy?” Hole asked.
“He knocked himself silly falling over the table, but he closed his eyes as I asked and my spit only did some cosmetic damage to his cheek here and here,” Geist said. “It’ll heal up in a week or so.”
“What about me?” Sha Morgoal screeched. “What did you do to my eyes?”
“Those are no longer a concern,” Geist said as he picked the boy up and slung him over his shoulder. He was a teenager, but hadn’t seen a proper meal in a long while, so he didn’t way much more than a sack of Glupernian potatoes. Geist turned and looked up at the crime lord. “For all intents and purposes, you no longer have eyes. They are turning to jelly as we speak.”
“Little known fact about Tcherians,” Cookie said as Mug carried Sha Morgoal around the wedding table and down to the dance floor. Despite the Slinghasp being firmly in Mug’s grip, Cookie kept his carbine ready. “They have a separate saliva gland that shoots a very specific type of toxin.”
“I can melt eyes,” Geist said as he joined Mug and the two teammates walked with their charges firmly secure. “It’s a thing.”
“Eight Million Gods!” Sha Morgoal cried. “Why? WHY?”
“Relax,” Geist said. “It doesn’t really melt eyes. Just makes you blind for a while. Calm down. Sheezus.”
“Still, count yourself lucky you cannot see,” Hole said once Mug and Geist reached her. She didn’t even glance back, her focus on the double doors. “Sergeant Tog’ma isn’t wearing pants. That is not a sight you would enjoy.”
“Yeah, Geist, do me a favor and camouflage that bony butt of yours while I walk behind you,” Cookie said.
“If you are covering our six, Cookie, then you should be looking the other direction, not at my butt,” Geist said. “And it’s not bony.”
“It’s a little bony,” Mug said.
“Enough,” Hole said as they reached the double doors. “We still have to get out of this palace and rendezvous with the Eight-Three-Eight at the LZ.”
“If you think you can just leave, you are very mistaken,” Sha Morgoal hissed.
“We’re Drop Team Zero,” Cookie replied. “We don’t just do anything.”
“Wanders? What’s our exit look like?” Hole asked into the com. There was no response. “Wanders? Come in.” Hole held up a hand and looked back over her shoulder. “Didn’t one of you disable the Skrang com scrambler?”
; “Oh, right, yeah,” Geist said. “I was busy spitting and then checking on the kid. I didn’t look for a scrambler.”
“Let’s hope Wanders has things under control,” Hole said as she looked left then right down the corridor outside the grand ballroom. “We walk into a crudstorm and I will not be happy.”
“Do androids even have emotions like happy and sad?” Cookie asked.
“We do,” Hole replied. “We also have angry and extremely angry. Care to see both of those?”
“Just asking,” Cookie said as they all turned right and made their way towards the main entrance hall. “No need to go all killer robot on me.”
“You can be such a space dick sometimes, Cookie,” Geist said.
Cookie only shrugged.
Ten
“Zero? Come in! Zero? Do you guys read me?” Wanders called into the com. “Eight Million Gods dammit! Where are you guys? Is anybody there?”
Wanders hunkered down behind the ancient stone wall, flinching and cringing with every plasma impact, energy bolt, and even old-school bullet that hit the wall, sending shards of centuries-old stone flying up into the air around him.
“Motherboard, I do not have contact with Zero and I am under some seriously heavy fire right now,” Wanders called.
“Roger that, Wanders,” Motherboard responded over the com. “I am picking up a scrambled signal from inside the palace. Someone disabled our com, but it looks to be localized within the walls, not without.”
“Can you override remotely?” Wanders asked. “If Zero comes out that main entrance, they will be walking into one hell of a crudstorm.”
“I’m aborting the LZ rendezvous and coming to you directly, Wanders,” Motherboard said. “Scans show close to fifty armed hostiles, is that correct?”
“Sure foing feels like it’s correct,” Wanders cried as a large chunk of stone was blasted past his face. He flattened himself on the ground and crawled as far as he could before the stone wall ended. “I’m not exactly in a position to do an accurate headcount.”
“Understood,” Motherboard said. “I’ll be there in less than five. Hang tight.”
“That’s about all I can do right now,” Wanders said. A hunk of the wall collapsed onto Wanders and he scurried back from the edge. “Son of a gump!”
Eleven
“That does not sound good,” Cookie said as Zero reached the main palace doors.
“No, it does not,” Hole agreed. “Mug? Our target is acquired. We can leave the Slinghasp.”
“I don’t agree, Hole,” Mug replied. “This guy seems to know something. Every inch of my gut is telling me we can milk him for intel once he’s back at Fleet headquarters.”
“I agree, but our main objective is Dylan Keer,” Hole said. “We’re going to need your hands free if we’re getting out of this palace. Drop the bastard and gun up, Sergeant.”
“Sergeant, is it?” Mug laughed. “Pulling rank now, Master Sergeant?”
“I’m going to get us out of here alive,” Hole said. “I need you with gun up.”
“Roger that,” Mug said. She pulled Sha Morgoal’s face close to hers. “We’ll be seeing you later, you can count on it.” She let the crime lord drop to the ground and he cried out as his face met the floor.
“But you won’t be seeing us,” Cookie said.
“Good one,” Geist said.
“Thanks,” Cookie said and handed Geist a KL09.
“No, thank you,” Geist said as he took the pistol, made sure the charge was up, and took aim at the main doors. He shifted Dylan’s weight on his shoulder. “I’m ready when you are.”
“I’m on point,” Hole said, “since I can take more damage than you flesh bags.”
“Be nice,” Cookie hissed.
“Mug, I want you behind me with Geist and the target behind you,” Hole said. “Cookie, you bring up the rear. Most of the fire will be coming at us head on, but I do not want any of Sha Morgoal’s henchmen still inside to try anything. Are we all understood?”
“You will not leave my estate alive,” Sha Morgoal snarled as he turned his head back and forth, blindly searching for something to focus on. “My guests? Some are simple business folk, but most are not. Now that the shock has worn off, I expect them to take offense to their nice Saturday being ruined.”
“Is it Saturday?” Geist asked. “I can never tell when we have to go through as many wormholes as we did to get here. Why can’t these crime dicks live closer into the center of the galaxy? It would make things way more convenient.”
“Mug? Silence him,” Hole ordered.
“What?” Geist gasped.
“Sha Morgoal, moron,” Hole said.
“I know, I was playing around,” Geist said. “I wanted to get one more laugh out before we burst through those doors.”
“My pleasure,” Mug said and lashed out with the tip of her huge boot, sending Sha Morgoal into a sudden and silent unconscious state.
The weapons fire outside intensified. Hole sighed and placed a boot against one of the front doors. “We go on three.”
The rest of Zero nodded and made sure their helmets were secure and faceplates tight before they rushed out into the noxious atmosphere. Geist took a deep breath and a protective film covered his eyes. His species could handle a near vacuum without being damaged, a little poisonous air was nothing to him.
“One. Two,” Hole announced. “Three!”
She kicked the door open and hurried from the palace, her rifle up and ready to take down each and every target that got in her way. She made it three meters without firing a shot before she lowered her rifle and stared at the carnage.
“Holy crud,” Mug said as she stood directly behind Hole, her rifle still up, but in a much more relaxed grip than a half-second before. “Well, ain’t this a sight to see.”
“What is?” Geist asked. “Move, mug.”
Mug stepped to the side and Geist’s eyes widened.
“Damn,” he said. “Looks like the party moved outside and we missed it.”
“Mug?” Hole asked.
“I’m on it,” the Urvein replied and stomped back inside the palace. She came out in a couple seconds with Sha Morgoal tucked under one massive arm.
“Let’s get the fo out of here,” Cookie said. “I want to get this suit off and into a hot steam before the night is over.”
“Good job, Zero,” Motherboard said from the rear ramp of the Eight-Three-Eight. Wanders sat on the ramp, his helmet in his four hands, the protective shielding keeping the atmosphere at bay. “I scrapped the LZ and decided to clear a spot closer to you.”
Zero looked at the dead and wounded that lay everywhere.
“The brass does not like it when civilians are injured,” Hole said. “This will be a considerable amount of paperwork.”
“We can tackle that together, Master Sergeant,” Motherboard responded. “But I think we all know that these pieces of scum are far from being average civilians.”
“You good, Wanders?” Mug asked as she carried Sha Morgoal up the ramp.
“I’m good,” Wanders said, getting up as the Urvein passed. “How about you?”
“Right as Nemorian rain,” Mug said. “You sure you’re good? You look a little peaked.”
“That’s just because I have crud in my drawers,” Wanders said. “You missed quite the show of firepower out here.”
“Nothing to say, Geist?” Motherboard asked as the Tcherian walked up the ramp with Dylan over his shoulder.
Geist gave the Lieutenant a smirk, but didn’t respond, his lips still sealed tight against the Monia’Ja atmosphere.
“LT,” Cookie said and nodded. “I’m gonna need some new pistols and a new rifle when we get back to headquarters.”
“You always do, Cookie,” Motherboard said, clapping the Cervile on the shoulder.
Once all members of Drop Team Zero were inside the ship, she slammed her hand against the ramp button and followed behind, leaving the mess of bodies that filled the landi
ng lot for someone else to deal with.
Twelve
“I’ve steamed six times and I still think it’s going to take two sheddings before I slough off the stink of that planet,” Geist said as he stepped into the Eight-Three-Eight’s small mess hall, a towel draped around his shoulders and one wound around his waist and thighs.
“Still no pants?” Cookie said, sipping from a metal cup. He raised it and nodded to the commissary console set into the mess’s wall. “No pants, no service.”
“Come on, man, you know uniforms chafe,” Geist said as he made his way to the console.
He stopped halfway and stared at the plate before Mug. The Urvein paused in the stuffing of her hairy maw from what looked like over a dozen MREs worth of food in front of her.
“What?” Mug asked around a mouthful of food. “I burn ten times the calories y’all do. If I don’t eat my fill then my blood sugar drops and I get grumpy. You want me grumpy, Geist?”
“Nope, don’t want that,” Geist said and continued to the console. “What I do want is for you to leave some for the rest of us.”
He tapped at the screen and it beeped shrilly. A message popped up. It read, “No pants, no service.”
“What the fo?” Geist snapped. He spun around then saw Hole seated up against the far wall, a fiberoptic tether going from the base of her skull to a wall outlet, her eyes firmly closed. “Hole! Not cool!”
A sly grin appeared on Hole’s face, but was gone so fast that no one would have been able to swear it had ever been there.
“Is there an issue, Sergeant?” Hole asked. “Perhaps you would like to make a formal complaint. That would require pants, though.”
“Ha!” Cookie laughed. “Now that’s a good one!”
“Whatever,” Geist said and took a seat next to Cookie. He looked across the mess table at Mug, frowned as the Urvein shoved two pounds of food in her mouth in one bite, then said, “I’d ask you how the kid is, but you’re busy.”
Mug swallowed hard and cleared her throat. “The kid is fine,” she said. “A little bruised and banged up, dehydrated and malnourished, but he’s sleeping peacefully in a med chamber. He’ll be at one hundred percent by the time we reach the Galactic Fleet headquarters. Once he’s there, and safely back in his parents’ care, then he’s not our worry anymore.”