The guard smiled back at him and Trigger offered him a nervous smile in return. 'This might surprise you, but my dad was always a very keen amateur Engineer, so I picked up a lot of stuff that you guys take for granted as out of our range of understanding.'
Oh crap.
'So you really want me to explain why we need the jet pack then?' Trigger tried not to whimper.
The guard nodded at him amiably. 'If I don't get it, I don't get it. It sure beats standing there like an idiot no wiser to what you're doing in there though.'
For all his fears and the terrors that assailed him, Trigger's mind operated best when it was put under an undue amount of pressure, which resulted in the following pouring out of his mouth:
'The reverse flux capacitor is de-stabilised by the Neutronium base inherent within the weapon's gravimetric compensator. The innards of one of these jet packs allows an alternative power flow to regulate this in order to reduce the inherent risks of compensation during the weapon's firing cycle.'
He stopped for a breath after this lengthy diatribe and waited for the sceptical guard to shoot a hole in him.
'Yeah, that seems about right. Clever thinking.' the guard remarked, and continued walking.
'What? I mean, yes, it is.' he quickly added.
'You were right, I don't understand a word of what you just said. Looks like you Engineers work on an entirely different level, it sounded like absolute gibberish to me.'
Trigger nodded, his extremities feeling numb at the shock of that actually working. 'We sure do.'
They stopped at a sliding door that didn't look any different from the dozen they'd already passed. He knew in his heart of hearts then that there was no way he could have found this by himself.
The guard wandered into the darkened room and there was the sound of rummaging.
'Is this what you were looking for?' his arm said as it shot out of the room, holding what looked like nothing more than a white backpack. Trigger wouldn't have been able to find that even if he had found the room, it was a fortunate stroke of luck that he'd been able to convince this man.
'That looks fine.' he said, realising that the hanging arm of the guard was awaiting a response.
The rest of the guard appeared from the dark and the door shut behind him. 'It's an older model, but it checks out.' he said, blowing dust from off the slightly yellowed surface. 'They keep them in storage and I doubt anyone would be fool enough to use them.'
'Why wouldn't they be used any more?' he asked, trepidation creeping into his tone against his own wishes.
The guard chuckled. 'I guess this is more my area of expertise than yours. If someone were to try and fly this thing they'd probably make it a few meters before it exploded. You weren't going to try that though, were you?'
'Oh...' Trigger replied.
This produced outright laughter from the man now. 'You scientist Engineer types crack me up with your jokes.'
Yes. Jokes.
'How do you even fly such a thing?' he asked as they wandered back toward the weapon.
The guard pulled up the slightly yellow pack and clicked a button on the side. Two wings and arms sprung out of the pack, causing Trigger's heart to jump. Fortunately his legs were on auto-pilot.
'That's pretty much it, you just hit the ignition button and that's it sorted.'
Trigger offered his thanks to the man, who seemed very amiable for a person on the bad guy's side. He reminded himself that it hadn't been that long since he was on that side too. He hoped that in saving the world from the Voravians that they weren't condemning hundreds of innocent people to death. Better than billions he guessed, fortunately it wasn't up to him to make those decisions.
Before he knew it he stood by the doors that led into the room with the irritating scientist. All he needed to do now was activate the jet pack beside the weapon and hope for the best, right?
The doors slid open, and the scientist was in much the same position as he left him, trying to fiddle with things atop an impossibly tall ladder that wobbled threateningly.
'Ah, you're back! Good, now help me with this damn... wait, what's that you've got in your hand?'
Trigger stared down at the back pack, he hadn't thought this through.
'That looks awfully like a...
Trigger kicked the ladder.
He then checked the man's pulse. He was out cold. He really didn't want to hurt the man but what choice did he have?
He ignited the jet pack and nothing happened.
Well, that's not true in the strictest of senses. The jet pack hummed happily to itself and bobbed up and down, waiting for an occupant to take it on a trip somewhere. There was a distinct lack of nothingness that came from the weapon. It continued pulsing away to itself as if completely unaffected by the jet pack that the scientist had so direly warned him about.
Well, that was a big let down. He stared down at the scientist he had incapacitated, hoping that the man was okay. Violence wasn't really within Trigger, and he felt guilty about his actions so far even if he was saving the world.
Then one of the large round pulsing things exploded, sending shards of glass all about the room. This was followed in short order by the other one, which the computers about him greeted with a shrill alarm sound.
Realising that any second now there was going to be a lot of guards pounding at the doors and asking what was wrong, Trigger decided to take the initiative.
'Computer. You know those little arrows that led me here?'
'Voice pattern not recognised, information supplied will be on a limited basis only. Yes.'
'Can you show me the way to the shuttle bay with those arrows?'
A reluctant pause followed. 'If you insist.'
'Thank you!' Trigger said, his gratefulness entirely unforced.
'Have a nice day.' the computer informed him, somewhat mollified by the appreciation in spite of the lack of security clearance for the voice.
The arrows lit up on the floor, helpful as ever. Now Trigger had to divine a way to somehow get past the guards without their catching him.
He found himself staring at the jet pack.
Oh no.
A knock came on the door, quite a firm one too. 'I'm hearing alarms.' the muffled voice said. 'Is everything okay in there?'
'Computer...' Trigger asked, afraid of his own voice as he formed the words. 'If I was to get on the jet pack and fly out of here, would you open the doors for me so I don't crash and die?'
A long pause again.
'You were a very polite stranger, so I shall allow you to not crash and die.' the computer informed him, shortly before the doors opened.
Trigger jumped onto the controls of the jet pack and started soaring about the exploding weapon. Lurching left and right and up and down in no given order, he felt sick to the pit of his stomach and completely out of control. Fortunately the small analytical part of him assumed control over the panicking twitching of limbs and forced the jet pack to guide him directly at the double doors.
He really, really hoped that those double doors would open.
The computer was true to its word and they shot open just in time, as did the second set to prevent him being trapped in a room with a very surprised set of guards. Now it was a matter of following the arrows and making sure he didn't run into that wall that was approaching at great speed.
He yanked the controls at the last second, feeling the tips of his toes scrape the side of the bulkhead as he tucked them in and span off down the corridor. The whining of the jet pack increased, clearly audible over the roaring of its engines. Getting out of here was all very well and good, but if he was strapped to an explosive then it wouldn't matter where he went.
The few pot shots that various startled members of security managed to get off at him were ineffective at the speed he was travelling, and his instinctive twitching this way and that was the only thing that saved him from being pulverised on a number of occasions.
Just follow the arrows an
d everything will be okay, just follow the arrows and everything will be okay.
His body autonomously followed the frenzied suggestions of his brain this time, and he noticed that as he grew closer to the bay the arrows got bigger and consequently easier to see. There was a giant one up ahead that pointed to a large set of doors that didn't look like they were going to open any time soon.
'Computer!' he wailed. 'Open the shuttle bay doors!'
'There's no need to raise your voice.' the computer replied, seemingly put out at the tone of address. 'I might not open them now, that was very rude of you.'
Trigger took a deep breath and closed his eyes. 'Computer, would you please kindly open the door for me so that I don't die? Thank you.'
'Much better.' the computer informed him sweetly over the sound of the doors opening. 'Have a nice day.'
He flew into the huge bay and was disorientated by the sheer amount of space he had to not crash and die. Now he just had to figure how to turn this damnable thing off without it...
'Trigger, down here!' came the call of RJ. The pilot was stood on the ramp into the shuttle beside two considerably incapacitated men.
'The controls aren't responding!' he screamed back in sudden realisation. 'I can't get down!'
As if to emphasise the point, the back pack took him higher into the room, to an altitude that eliminated all possibility of falling to safety.
'Just wait for it to get lower again and then let go of it!' RJ shouted back up at him, now flanked by Captain Jones, who looked as if he was coated in jam and had just spotted a hornet's nest.
Trigger just about caught this, as the jet pack had decided to turn itself into a roller coaster minus the rails. 'What if it doesn't come back down?' he asked, fearing the worst.
'Jump. The Captain and I will catch you!'
Trigger felt like he would have better luck taking his chances with the jet pack. It was shortly after this that the idea struck him, possibly brought on by all the current ideas being tumbled about in his head from the constant spinning. 'Tell the computer to turn the gravity off in the room!'
RJ didn't ask questions, and the next thing Trigger knew he was watching the two men below him floating slightly off the ground. He let go of the still-spinning jet pack and launched himself toward the ground.
That was when he heard the computer's voice again. 'Error, gravity has been disabled, reenabling in three... two... one...'
No. No. No. No. No.
The ground came rushing up to meet him and he knew no more.
Chapter 48
! ! !
They were sprawled out on the same greenish deck plating that the whole ship seemed to consist of, the only difference being that this was most certainly a cell of some kind as evidenced by the force field that was keeping them there.
Terry shook his head groggily and tried to collect his thoughts. He vaguely remembered running from the Voravians in the hope that somehow he'd come into contact with the other members of this fateful expedition. He'd certainly come into contact with something, as evidenced by his aching head and wobbly limbs.
To make matters worse, it seemed that Agent Smith was coming to nearby, just the sort of conversational partner he required when feeling like this.
Slowly rising, Engineer Stevens resumed his previous role by investigating the force field for any inherent weaknesses. It was as good an excuse as any not to have to deal with Smith, even if he found absolutely nothing to suggest they could escape.
'Engineer... a word if you please.' Smith's drawl came from across the small room, forcing him to suppress an audible sigh. That excuse didn't last very long then, now to find out how he was to blame for them ending up in here.
'Yes sir?' he asked, trying to keep his tone as even as possible.
Smith had not risen to his feet, instead electing to crawl a little closer to the wall and prop himself into a seated position. It looked as if the Voravians had really done a number on him, and given how painful Terry felt he couldn't imagine what his superior must be feeling to show such a sign of weakness.
'Engineer Stevens, I want you to know that it pains me to say this... but I owe you an apology.'
Terry rounded on the man. 'Now look here, I did almost everything that was asked of me and you can't go blaming me and asking for an apology from me when it wasn't my fault that we're in this... wait, what?'
A faint smile played across the cold lips of the man before vanishing swiftly. 'Clearly not what you were expecting. I... owe you an apology for my actions earlier.'
Terry shook his head, trying his best to convince himself that he wasn't hearing things or in the grip of a very strange dream. 'What do you need to apologise for?' he finally asked.
A slight cough indicated that Smith was a lot worse off than he was trying to let on. 'When the Voravians came I shot anything that moved. You were one of my accidental targets.'
He touched the aching in his chest. 'You shot me?'
Smith nodded slowly, not trusting his voice at that moment. 'A glancing blow.' he finally admitted. 'It still warrants an apology as it was enough to incapacitate you and the Voravians got the better of me for it.'
Terry tried to picture heroic Agent Smith swimming his way through a sea of charred Voravian flesh to get to his fallen colleague and had great difficulty doing so. Still, there was no harm in taking the man at his word given their current situation, was there?
'My head.' groaned Annika from the other side of the room. 'Oh no.' she added upon realisation of where she was.
'We have been imprisoned.' Smith supplied, doing his application to the department of redundancy department no harm.
Terry watched her stagger to her feet and began to ponder to himself. Even if they somehow devised a way to get out of here, how were they going to be in any fit state to deal with the Voravians beyond and get to the off switch? It seemed to him that he was the only one of the group in any fit state to do something about it. Which meant unfortunately through process of excruciating deduction that he was going to have to save the day.
He really wasn't that good at saving the day, and the fact that he was imbued with the knowledge of several universities' worth of Engineering meant that he most likely could figure a way out of this cell and into further peril.
Then again, doing so was probably better than sitting here and waiting to be destroyed by the weapon if the other team had failed just as spectacularly.
He tapped his heel against the floor of the cell and the reassuring thunk told him everything he needed to know. Divesting himself of the shoe in question he clicked it open and slid out the secreted miniature scanner he had hidden away in case of emergencies like this. Apparently it had been all the rage with Engineering officers going on away missions, or so the computer had told him.
'You have a scanner?' Annika said, her voice perking up at this faint glimmer of hope.
Terry nodded, and promptly started the device, running it across the walls of the cell and searching for some way out that his own eyes couldn't catch. To her credit, Annika just watched, letting the Engineer do his thing even though she had more experience with such matters.
'It looks as if there's some kind of computer device buried within the walls, these systems seem remarkably like...'
'...The Star Command issue computers.' she finished for him. 'I noticed that earlier, don't you find that really odd?'
He nodded again, it wasn't like they could just go to some big space port that supplied the same type of computer and bulk order it regardless of whether they were aliens or not. As far as he knew there was no Computers 'r' us store out here that would sell Star Command down the river. Had smugglers stolen the technology and armed the Voravians accordingly? Why then was the panel buried into the wall in the first place?
Probably to keep people like Terry from getting to it.
The problem now was that even though he had located a panel to disable the force field, there was no way of activating said panel with
out blasting the wall. His scanner wasn't very good at doing that on account of it being a scanner, not a gun.
Annika hobbled over to join him. 'Mind if I take a look at that scanner?'
Terry handed it over to his superior without question, and waited for the magic to happen.
Her stiff fingers had troubled pressing all the buttons required but eventually she was able to get the desired effect. There was a muffled bang followed by the deactivation of the forcefield.
'What did you do?' Terry asked.
Annika shrugged. 'An old spacer trick to overload these Star Command consoles. I told it to formulate the perfect cup of tea.'
He didn't begin to question how that made the slightest bit of sense to anyone.
Now there was the small matter of getting Agent Smith mobile. The man remained propped up in the corner, that same strange smile back on his face as if he found something mildly amusing but wasn't going to share what it was.
'Come on Agent Smith.' Annika said. 'We need to get up and moving if we're to disable this switch before they discover we're out of captivity.'
Smith said nothing, and fended off his subordinate's attempts at lifting him to his feet.
'Commander.' she said, the tension ratcheting up in her voice now. 'We're not leaving here without you.'
Smith stared up at her through those dark shades that the Voravians had refused to confiscate for some reason. 'You can't carry me through the whole mothership and hope to deactivate it.'
The words seem to make Annika slump, her efforts at rousing Smith went limp and she slid down the wall beside him. 'I know, but I'm not leaving you.'
Smith watched her slide down the wall into a sitting position beside him. 'You are to take the Engineer and disable the switch on the Voravian mothership, more lives than mine depend upon your actions now. That's an order Lieutenant.' he looked now to Terry as he said these final words, as if beseeching him to pull Annika away from him and depart this cell.
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