They pressed forward into the jungle, following the rudimentary path that the previous teams had carved out in their search for food and native inhabitants. The cloying atmosphere stuck in the back of Trigger's throat, the trees seemed to be pressing in as if conspiring to crush the life out of them. Every instinct in his gut told him to run the other way, a sensation that Darwin appeared to be entirely oblivious to.
'You're a jittery young fellow, aren't you?' he quipped in the midst of his latest autobiographical retelling of daring do.
'It's the forest sir, I don't like it. You sent the entire crew in here and none of them came out.'
Darwin snorted. 'They'll be just fine Cadet, they're trained professionals surveying a large planetary body, probably so excited at the chance to stretch their legs that they've forgotten to report back!'
'But sir, that doesn't explain why they didn't respond when we...' it was no use though, Darwin had gone back to talking about his glory days fighting off some man-eating alien.
It was a little further down the path that they encountered the arm.
Hawkins shrieked, which brought his Captain spinning round and levelling a blaster directly at his face. This caused him to shriek again at the thought of being shot at.
'What in blazes is the matter with you man?' Darwin demanded to know. 'Have you come down with a sudden phobia of trees?'
But Trigger couldn't speak, instead he simply pointed and made blubbering noises.
It lay by the side of the crude path, seemingly cauterised at the stump and perfectly preserved. A single human arm with the tattered remnants of a red shirt covering it.
'Well, looks like one of our botanists got a bit carried away and poked around where he wasn't welcome!' quipped the Captain, seemingly nonplussed at the limb lying there. 'Keep your arms to yourself Cadet if you want to keep them, looks like this rainforest has a bit of a bite to it after all!' he chuckled to himself, as if he had cracked an incredibly witty joke. Hawkins just felt ill.
They marched on deeper into the foreboding forest, aside from the arm the only change had been the size of the plants, which seemed to grow the further they got. Trigger kept picturing the limb and steering himself clear of anything that looked like it would chew on him, especially the larger fly traps with their gaping mouths. A man could easily fit inside one of those, he kept expecting them to lurch down and gobble him up at any moment.
In spite of his misgivings, nothing happened and for reasons unknown an odd calm had begun to settle over him. Darwin emanated an air of invincibility about him which seemed misplaced at first, but having not immediately vanished like the rest of their crew, Hawkins was beginning to wonder if the Captain had reason to feel that way.
He watched the man swat away another plant that was barring his path, again without the loss of life or limb, perhaps there was a practical reason why he had become Captain of the flagship as he kept boasting about.
'Oh dear, that is a pity.'
Hawkins began to shriek again but was silenced by the Captain's hand clamping over his mouth.
'It seems these poor souls have met their maker. Looks like you were right Cadet, there is a reason why they didn't respond to our communicators.'
Trigger found himself not wanting to be right at all, as whatever had killed these crew members was undoubtedly still out there on the prowl.
'Strange.' Darwin said, overturning a body with his foot disrespectfully. 'None of these men are senior officers, they all wear red shirts like you Cadet.'
He looked down at his shirt and gulped, was the red a bullseye for whatever this thing was that had been hunting the crew?
'Yes, I definitely recall sending at least one member of the senior crew with each group, these poor fellows are a mish-mash of three separate groups. So where have the senior officers gone?'
The sun beat down on them as they progressed further into the dense jungle, Hawkins somehow mustering up the kind of hopeless courage that comes from knowing you'd inevitably be dragged out here if you didn't comply.
Another clearing had him wincing in anticipation. Nothing happened.
'See Cadet?' Darwin smiled. 'Just because we came across some bodies before doesn't mean there will be trouble in every clearing we find.'
A rustling noise came from the bushes ahead, Trigger would have bolted for it if his fear of the Captain shooting him for desertion hadn't turned his legs to jelly.
'Well now!' the Captain said, much too loudly for his comrade's liking. 'It looks like we're going to have some company after all! Come out of the bushes and we'll promise not to hurt you.' he said, thrusting his hips in the general direction of the sound.
The branches parted and a strange creature hopped out into the clearing. It was pink and had an odd sheen to its oily skin, sporting a small trunk and a large neck. It looked vaguely humanoid and was brandishing a crude spear in its muscular arms. Trigger didn't think it looked very friendly.
'You there, creature!' Darwin called out to it, walking over toward it as if it were the most ordinary thing in the world. 'Have you seen any of my senior officers?'
The thing continued to stare at him silently, if it had understood at all what the Captain was saying it gave no impression of it. Trigger didn't like where this was going, Darwin was not a patient man and his inter-species diplomacy didn't extend out of his bedroom.
It was when the Ensign heard rustling from all around him that he became very worried indeed.
'What's wrong with you man?' the Captain asked the creature, seemingly unaware of the noise surrounding them. 'Not a talker yourself, what?'
The creature still didn't respond, this seemed to anger Darwin in a way that Trigger didn't think was sensible at all.
Darwin levelled his blaster at the thing's head and took aim. 'Tell me what I want to know or you're getting blown to pieces, whatever you are.'
'Er... sir?' Trigger asked, quivering behind the man.
'Not now Cadet, can't you see that I'm negotiating?'
Ensign Hawkins pointed wildly around him, desperately tapping his commanding officer on the shoulder.
'Cadet, what's got into you?' Darwin demanded, finally turning around to survey the scene.
They surrounded them from all sides, the same pink-skinned creatures as the one they initially encountered. These ones also brandished crude spears but upon them rested the lifeless heads of the Scavanger's senior staff.
Darwin tugged up his belt, taking sight with his blaster to Trigger's disbelief and counting the numbers.
'Well... this might get tasty.'
Chapter 12
Wires! Blazes! Vardell VIII!
Phil lay patiently in the status field that was preventing him from moving a muscle. He listened to the sound of the hyperwarp engines he had somehow fixed and stared up at their glow like a rotund baby at a light show.
Annika had been kind enough to provide him a pillow to lay his head on as Hanniman feverishly worked on the mass of cables that had twisted themselves around Phil's body. The Engineer had been baffled by how his Captain had made the pulsing nacelles operational once more and as a result had spent a great stretch of time simply observing how the wires were wrapped. He sucked on a stylus in appreciation of the complexity of his task and made some brief notes in a holopad as if he were trying to divine some gigantic puzzle with Phil at its centre.
Smith was nowhere to be seen.
They had demanded that Phil do absolutely nothing at all for fear of electrocution or worse. Fortunately Phil was very good at absolutely nothing at all, so in a sense he felt right at home.
'So what's the diagnosis, doc?' he finally asked, having stayed remarkably silent out of fear for his life should the Engineer make a mistake.
Hanniman continued staring at his notes and running his eyes up and down the various cables. 'It's not looking good, Captain. I'd give you the details but even I'm struggling to understand them. We could cut the big wire under your arm and risk the engines shutting down
permanently or we could sever the one by your right leg and keep the engines but risk electrocuting you.'
Phil could see the flicker of doubt in his eyes, all this talk of his limbs and severing things was making him nervous. 'At least, I think that's the case, some of these wires are very hard to follow.'
Phil tried to nod in agreement but the stasis field refused to let him budge. 'So how long will it take you to figure out what works and what doesn't? Don't we have a starship to rescue or something?'
'I can't be sure sir, it looks like I'll just have to take an educated guess.'
The pink glove tightened around his hand at the mention of that. Was it trying to communicate with him?
'I think you should go ahead with your plan, Hanniman. I can't spend the rest of my life tangled up in wires.' he neglected to mention that until the advent of bluetooth that was exactly how he had spent most of his time.
As soon as the words had left his mouth he felt his hand go numb, experimentally he cleared his throat and reversed his decision. 'Actually Hanniman I believe that perhaps you shouldn't do that.' the tension eased a little in the glove. 'Yes, I think I should...er... remove the stasis field.' the glove felt a little looser now. 'And try and untangle myself?'
As if in response to his query, the rubber relaxed totally and Phil let out a cramped sigh of relief. At least until he caught sight of Hanniman's disbelieving face and realised what it was the glove wanted him to do.
'You would rather try and untangle the wires yourself?' the Engineer asked, the look on his face was of a man that knew he was about to receive an order he didn't like.
Phil flicked his eyes over to the glove and said very slowly, 'yes Engineer, that's precisely what I want to do.' the lack of tightening suggested that for some reason this was the course of action the glove wanted.
Hanniman didn't look convinced by the hesitant wording of his commanding officer but neither did he gainsay his decision, crossing over to the same panel that had enabled the stasis field and tapping a few buttons on it.
'The field is ready to collapse on your command Captain, as your Engineering officer I must formally protest and suggest that you allow me to continue the work.' there didn't seem to be much resolve in the protest. 'Are you sure you want me to turn the stasis field off?'
He attempted to nod at his Engineer once more before realising that the field was still on, he then replied in the affirmative.
Hanniman sighed and thumped a large button on the console panel, the buzzing noise grew deeper and deeper then finally ceased. Phil tilted his head experimentally and found that he could move once again. Now what was he meant to do?
'The field is off now Captain.' the Engineer said helpfully. 'take as long as you need with whatever you had planned.'
Phil flexed his left arm experimentally and the lights dimmed in response, the glove clearly wanted him to get out of this mess himself but he had no idea how to do so without inevitably destroying the ship's power.
Oh well, time to do what Phil did best: accidentally destroy priceless machinery.
He flexed his right leg experimentally, there wasn't much give there. The left leg reported the same, though with a little more leeway. His arms had a good chuckle at the idea of lifting him on their own before his hips decided to take action.
Phil was well-suited to rolling, the aerodynamics favoured him and the wires seemed to make a conscious decision not to electrocute him to death. There was a whole load of sparks and a series of yells from Hanniman that suggested the engines may not have such a lucky fate though. He really didn't want to roll clear of this mess only to find himself on a ship doomed to destruction.
He dived clear of a sparking wire that whipped toward his face, only for his trailing leg to get caught on something else which seemed to drag him back into the mess like an eager tentacle of some giant beast.
Batting wires clear to protect his eyes, Phil started to panic as he grew more and more tangled in the mess he had already made.
The lights of the ship flickered wildly and the engine's humming noise was erratic pulses of varying pitch. It felt oddly like going into a seizure, or at least what Phil imagined it would be like. Then as he was about to give up all hope of salvation the engines resumed their comforting thrum and the lights were restored. Phil found himself free of the wreck of wires and somehow the ship was remarkably still in one piece.
Hanniman gaped at him. 'Captain, how in blazes did you do that?'
He slowly picked himself off the floor, feeling a few bruises that hadn't been there but a moment ago. Should he tell his Engineer that he had no idea? That this had all been some massive fluke? Or would the man rather believe that the fate of the entire ship was resting on his gloved hand?
Instead of answering, Phil shrugged the question off and tried to get his bearings, he felt like a very battered and somewhat disorientated peach that had just been dropped out of a basket. He wondered briefly whether peaches really could feel disorientated before shaking the thought clear. He had to focus now, there was no time for idle musings.
Finally rising to his feet, he ordered Hanniman to put one of those force field thingies around the tangled mess that he called cabling in the hopes that it would stay intact for whatever the universe had to throw at them next. After this he made his way back up to the cockpit, where he found Agent Smith back in his position in spite of a lack of order to resume his post.
'You're back in one piece!' Annika smiled at him, a look of relief spreading across her face.
Phil offered her a nervous smile back and greeted the rest of the crew, even Smith. 'Yeah, but most importantly our engines are still fully functional.' he stared out at the bluey purpleness of the viewscreen and realised that his statement had been rather redundant.
'How long until we reach the planet that the Scavanger was picked up near?' he asked, feeling oddly like there were marbles in his mouth as he stumbled over the sentence. Being a Captain wasn't as easy as they made it sound.
RJ swivelled round in his pilot chair after briefly looking at a readout.'I'd say another twenty minutes at the speed we're going, Captain. Whatever you did to those engines not only seems to have fixed them, it's boosted their efficiency.'
Phil stared down at the glove in his hand and flexed it experimentally, if gloves could smile this one would be giving him a knowing wink with it.
So much for avoiding idle musing.
He had twenty minutes to prepare for that which he couldn't prepare for, it was time to turn his attention to his least favourite member of the crew.
'Agent Smith?'
The man turned slowly and deliberately. 'Yes, Captain Jones?'
Well, at least it was better than 'Mr. Jones.' Phil thought to himself, wondering why there was a change in Smith's attitude. Had he won him over by repairing the engines? No, he knew it would take much more than that to change this man's opinion on him.
'What can we expect when we reach the planet? I need your tactical analysis!'
Smith smiled back at him coolly, was that a hint of positivity at being used correctly?
'The planet is known as Vardell VIII, a dense jungle world with many predators and no known inhabitants as of yet. It has regularly been subjected to much debate by the terraforming committee due to the bountiful natural resources it possesses, the general consensus as of this time is that it's simply too dangerous to cultivate.'
Smith tapped on his holoboard and brought up a screen in front of Phil's face, forcing him to edge back in his seat slightly.
'Judging by the projected coordinates of the Scavanger with the actual mission detail, it is most likely that they engaged the Voravians over the planet and were blown to smithereens. We're likely to encounter a debris field as soon as we jump out of hyperwarp, I suggest utmost caution as the Voravian threat may still be present in the sector.'
The screen flickered to a spaceship hurtling down toward the planet.
'It may be possible that the Scavanger was shot
down and crashed onto the planet below or chose to escape into the atmosphere, if that were the case then our search detail becomes far more difficult. Assuming that the atmospheric compensator of the vessel wasn't fried there could be potential survivors fighting for their life on the planet's surface. As a result there may also be Voravians down there too.'
The screen blinked off and Phil found himself face to face with Smith once more, the situation looked grim indeed, and entirely too dangerous for his liking.
'Thank you for the threat assessment, number one.'
Smith nodded and turned back to his console, apparently there was nothing more to say.
He watched the computer silently count down the amount of time to their arrival, none of the crew felt that talkative now. They were all assuming the worst and there was a collective nervousness about them that seemed to escalate the closer they got to their destination. Everyone except Smith of course, who remained as cool and disinterested as always.
Then RJ uttered the words Phil had been dreading to hear. 'We're about to leave hyperwarp Captain, in three...two... one...Oh crap.'
Then all hell broke loose.
Chapter 13
Thumming! Compensating! Puffy!
The darkened expanse of space was no longer that dark, on account of it being lit up by giant lasers streaking their way toward the ship.
Phil stared at the view screen in horror, trying his best not to wet himself and at a complete loss for words. In his peripheral vision he spotted Smith and Annika hammering furiously at a series of holographic buttons like some kind of insanely athletic dance from the future. RJ was yanking the ship this way and that to dodge the barrage and everyone seemed to be doing their best to avoid getting destroyed. While waiting for him to give the orders. The future was a very scary place indeed, definitely more like Alien than Spaceballs.
Except the future he was seeing was actually here and now, and the thing firing the lasers was very real indeed.
It was vast in size, he could already tell that because it took up the entire view screen of the cockpit and that was already zoomed out as much as possible. He was vaguely reminded of the Dyson Sphere from Star Trek, a structure so large that they only ever showed small portions of it close up. Was this the reason that the Scavanger had crash-landed upon the planet? Were they trying to get away from this monstrosity?
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