Chapter Chapter V: Accused of a Crime They Didn't Commit
Imperial Military service consists of two types of status: active and reserve. Act members of the military serve on the frontlines, battling the oppressive Golden Empire of Infinite Starlite, or fighting side-by-side with the Emperor as he brings new worlds into the fold. Reserve members serve as garrisons on worlds removed from the fighting, where there is little chance of actual combat.
-Excerpt from The Newcomer’s Guide to the Empire
The squad returned to base without incident, though the tortured whine of the damaged jeep’s hoverunit threatened to drive them insane with its ear-piercing shriek.
When they arrived, they immediately began working. Slog and Tread transported the remains of the machine to a coroner of the garage for Tread to examine later. Once the pieces were completely unloaded, Tread bolted off to begin decrypting the drive, the droid eager to unlock its mysterious contents. Alvara was on crowd control, still coordinating with the Outpost Civil Services concerning the wreck. Slog was giving the trashed droid a cursory inspection.
Ansaria was feeling the pain in her ribs from the attacker’s swipe, and decided a visit to the med wing wasn’t out of the question.
“Critter, could you boot up your droid and meet me in medical? I might need your help.”
She received an affirmative and made her way to the small medical wing. Ansaria sat on the single table and gingerly lifted up her shirt. A black and purple bruise the size of her hand was covering her right side. She touched the discoloration and winced.
The clanking sound of Critter’s droid’s footsteps announced the arrival of her assistant nurse. Chattering filled her com.
“You bet it feels as bad as it looks. I just need to make sure nothings broken and bandage it. Grab the scanner.”
The droid grabbed the handheld medical scanner and gave Ansaria’s wound a quick once over. The device beeped and Critter informed her of the results.
“Just bruised.” The words came out in a sigh of relief. After today, the last thing she needed was some busted ribs to complicate things. “Grab some wrappings and do what you can, Critter.”
The tiny teammate’s suburb control made the “procedure” relatively painless, aside from the throbbing ache of Ansaria’s bruise. She lowered her shirt and stood up, still tender, but relived knowing she hadn’t come away with worse.
“Thanks, Critter. I’m gonna see how Tread’s doing, could you get started on the jeep? I do not want to have to take that thing out again until that whine is gone.”
Critter’s droid snapped a salute, turned and marched out of the room. Ansaria smiled at the overly dramatic exit then made her way for Tread’s quarters.
Tread was seated firmly before his workstation, his weapon hand replaced with a normal, five-digit one, his fingers flying over keys as information scrolled across the screen, tiny and indecipherable to Ansaria.
“Report, private.”
Tread did not turn to acknowledge his sergeant, his attention focused on the screen before him, but he did answer her.
“I am certain that if I was able to due this wirelessly, we would have answers by now. Unfortunately, as I am stuck using primitive interface means, it will take me a while to decode the information.”
Ansaria resisted the urge to remind Tread whose fault it was he was stuck using such primitive methods.
“So you have no news for me?”
“Not quite. The drive is an Imperial Voidbox. Very top-of-the-line, used by higher ups in the Empire to keep secrets secret.”
“So this guy had access to an advanced piece of tech, a small shuttle, and was in some way connected to that hulking engine of destruction.”
“An excellent summary of the situation, sergeant.”
“Give me an estimate on when that thing will be unlocked.”
“Assuming I don’t encounter anything particularly surprising, forty minutes.”
“Make it thirty. I’m going to check on the others. Call me the instant you’re done.”
“Roger, roger.”
Ansaria left the room and moved down the hall to the common area where Alvara was talking quickly into her com unit. The conversation ended as soon as the sergeant entered the room.
“Give me the news, M.”
“I’ve informed OCS about the crash and the victim. I told them he was an Imperial representative, higher-up, explains the personal craft. Also told them he had a malfunctioning bodyguard droid that attacked us, which we subsequently scrapped and confiscated.”
Ansaria was pensive for a moment.
“For all we know, that is his bodyguard.”
“Well, hopefully Tread’s examination will tell us more. I also instructed the locals to forward all information they recovered from the ship’s computer.”
“Good call, M. How are you holding up?”
“I’m fine, Sarge. Didn’t get a scrape on me in the fight. That’s really something I should be asking you.”
As if in answer, Ansaria’s side gave a painful twinge and she grimaced.
“That bad, huh?”
“We both know I’ve had worse, but I probably won’t be challenging you to a sit-up completion anytime soon.”
“With all do respect Sarge, you couldn’t keep up on your best day.”
“Keep it up, private, and I’ll have you on latrine duty for a month.”
She walked back down the hall to the garage. The loud whine of power tools greeted her as Critter slowly restored the jeep. She went over to the remains of the droid were Slog was inspecting one of the arms.
“Learn anything!” she had to shout to be heard over Critter’s tools.
“Yeah, this stuff is way heavier than it was when we unloaded it.” Replied Slog.
“What do you mean?”
“This arm, it’s at least half again as heavy as it was when we loaded it up. Same with the torso: before I could lift half of it easy enough; now, I can hardly get it to budge. It’s like the thing grew extra armor while we weren’t looking.”
Would the weirdness of today never end?
“So now, on top of everything else, we’ve got a droid that can apply extra armor…after it’s been slagged. Slog, do you ever get the feeling that someone is trying to tell you something, and it just goes right over your head?”
“Too often for comfort, Sarge.”
“Well, keep inspecting it, and let me know if you find anything else. Preferably, something that makes sense. In the mean time, I think I’ve earned some R&R.”
“You got it, Sarge.”
Ansaria made her way back to her modestly accommodated quarters and was out almost as soon as she hit the cot.
In what seemed like no time at all, Ansaria was awakened by the steady beeping of her com unit. Ignoring the ache that had spread across her whole body, Ansaria blindly reached for the annoying-sounding device and activated it.
“Sergeant, I’ve finished decrypting the drive.”
All thoughts of her sleepy and pain gone from her mind, Ansaria sat up fully.
“Roger that, Tread. I’ll call the others and we’ll all meet in your room.”
“I do hope there’s enough room for everyone. The last thing I need is Slog busting s valuable piece of tech because he needed a place to sit.”
Ansaria ignored the last comment and contacted the rest of her squad.
“Tread’s finished unlocking the drive, so everyone meet in his room for a briefing on the double. I catch anyone hobbling in after me, and they’ll be doing laps in the desert for a month.”
With that said, Ansaria once more gingerly made her way out her room towards Tread’s room. Slog and Critter (minus the remote-controlled droid) were just entering the room as she made her way down the hallway. When she arrived, her squad was assembled, and all of them seemed to be just as anxious as she was to solve this mystery.
Tread’s walls had several screens on them, as well as a large central screen that displayed his work from his primary console. All the screens were filled with information, files and text stretched around the room.
“All right Tread, enlighten us.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” said Slog. “Don’t we want to get a betting pool open first? I’m betting good money that this thing has info on one of the Emperor’s illegitimate kids.”
Critter, who was resting on Slog’s shoulder, chattered to his companion.
“Fifty creds.” Replied Slog.
Another burst of chatter.
“All right, first taker! Anyone else?”
“Private, if you are quite finished, I would like to find why someone crashed a ship in my desert, why there was a homicidal killbot on board, and why it tried to terminate us almost on sight.”
“Besides,” said M. “The Emperor’s already got like sixteen heirs as it is. I doubt one more is really going to shake up the political landscape, even if he was raised in the middle of nowhere.”
“Just tell us what you found out, Tread.”
“Firstly, let me say congratulations to Slog, for his uncharacteristic display of forward thinking, and grabbing the victims TIG. Once I recovered the data from that, it made cracking the drive much simpler. Still extremely difficult, mind you, but also simpler.”
“Cheap shot coming from the toaster who fried himself on a bet.” Said Slog.
“Anyway,” continued Tread. “The drive and TIG belonged to Imperial Security Agent Jandor Rall, six year veteran of the ISA. Agent Rall was assigned a case involving strangely scrambled transmissions throughout the Empire that coincided with a rash of accidents and disappearances. Apparently, someone noticed a pattern in the incidents, and concluded that this may be an act of sabotage, likely the Starlite Empire.”
However, given the small number of occurrences, as well as the fact that no major damage had been done to the Empire, led most of the ISA to conclude that the idea of sabotage was…alarmist. The notion was dropped until a few weeks ago, when the ISA higher up, Rinz Lamu, just disappeared one day. That apparently got the rest of the agency’s attention, and they assigned Rall the case.
Using evidence gathered by Lamu, as well as the full facilities of the ISA, Rall was able to determine that the corrupted messages had been intercepted, altered, and then retransmitted to their intended recipient. With this knowledge, Rall was able to backtrack the messages, and discovered that they had been intercepted and resent from a remote corner in the galactic northeast of the Empire. Rall obtained a ship, and traveled to the region, investigating the worlds there. It’s on one of these worlds, Milalthrus, that Rall was first attacked by the droid that attacked us: Reno.”
“Reno?” said Ansaria.
“Yes ma’am, and there’s a full report on him as well, though I haven’t inspected it yet. As I was saying, Rall was attacked by Reno, but not before he was able to narrow down his search to a nearby asteroid field. Rall found a planetoid within the field that contained a massive computer, and was being used to corrupt the messages for the sabotages. And it was here that Rall intercepted a message bound for the fleet: The Golden Emperor has once again surfaced, and the Emperor is sure to head straight for the frontline to confront him.”
“So Rall believed that the intercepted message precipitated an act of sabotage aboard the Throneship, likely by an agent of the Golden Emperor?” said M.
“That appears to be the case.” Said Tread. “Unfortunately, before Rall could investigate further, he was attacked by Reno and forced to flee. He spent a standard week aboard a space station, waiting for re-supply before he could set out for the Throneship, and hopefully catch it before His Majesty reached the front.”
“Wait, he was gonna hand deliver this stuff to the Emperor himself? Why not forward it to Xenlong, or better yet, the big man himself?”
“Haven’t you been listening, Slog? That golden bastard has infiltrated the Imperial network. There’s no way to ensure that the messages would reach the Emperor, without being altered or straight up deleted.” Said Ansaria.
Slog was silent for a few moments.
“Do you think that’s why he said not to trust anyone?”
“Did he say that?” asked Ansaria.
“Yeah, right before he said to ‘save the Empire.’ I thought he was delusional, but now…” he trailed off.
Ansaria’s thoughts were racing. Sabotage threatening the Empire, collusion with the Starlite Empire, a dead Imperial agent on her doorstep. She knew she had wanted some excitement, but this? This might be too much for her.
“So,” she began. “We have information vital to the survival of the Emperor, if not the Empire, and the only way to ensure it reaches him, is deliver it personally.”
“Sergeant, surely you are not suggesting that we--” began Tread.
“What else can we do?”
“Wait,” said Slog, who was looking from his sergeant to the android and back again. “What are you to talking about? What are we doing?”
“We have to take this information to the Throneship ourselves, Slog. It’s the only way to ensure it gets to the Emperor un-intercepted.”
“Whoa there, isn’t this a little above our pay grade? I’m itchin’ for some action as much as the rest of you, but we’re not secret agents. Shouldn’t we call somebody first, find out what they have to say?”
“And this is why my compliment was wrapped in barbs.” Said Tread.
“Slog, the network’s been compromised. We can’t send any messages without knowing that they’re being intercepted. The only way we can get this information to the Emperor, is to do it ourselves.” Said Ansaria.
The room was silent for a few moments.
“So, when do we leave?” asked Alvara.
This elicited a smile from Ansaria.
“Cool your jets, M. We’ve still got a few things to do before we hop the next rocket off this rock.”
“That’s the first time I’ve ever heard you turn down the opportunity to hop on a rocket.” Said Alvara.
“Sergeant, if I may interject,” said Tread. “This drive also contains information on Reno, and given his propensity for trying to kill anyone connected to this information, perhaps we should investigate this as well.”
“All right, Tread, pull up the info.” Said Ansaria.
The large central screen suddenly revealed a document. An x-ray model of Reno was displayed, showing his various workings, though the model displayed looked to be half the size as the machine they fought.
“Looks like someone’s had some work done.” Said Alvara.
Tread began reading the info to the rest of the squad.
“Developed by Siladon Industries, the Reactionary Evolution Nano-Machine, or RENO, was created to be the first in the next generation of combat drones. Designed to be the ultimate soldier, RENO is able to fulfill any combat needs from patrol and protection, to infiltration and assassination. Aside from it’s advanced combat capabilities, the RENO’s primary feature is…”
Ansaria was confused by the droid’s sudden silence.
“Tread? What’s wrong?”
Tread slowly continued.
“…is the advanced nanomite delivery system, which allows the RENO units to recover from even the most grievous of wounds that would send lesser machines to the scrap heap. These advanced nanomites also upgrade the damaged RENO unit while they repair it, ensuring it can eliminate whatever took it down as soon as it’s back on its feet.”
Silence filled the room once more.
“Please tell me that doesn’t mean what I think it means.” Said Slog.
As if in answer to his question, the sound of banging metal filled the base, coming from the garage.
And the pieces of the thought deactivated machine.
Once more, Reno reactivated. His shattered form had been reconstructed, his battle damage repaired; leaving him as flawless as the day he was made. The nanites had also upgraded his form again, turning him into a hulking, heavily armored form.
Scanning the room, Reno detected no threats or targets. He was unsure where he had been brought, though based on his surroundings it appeared to be a garage. Really, his location was irrelevant. He would find whoever had the data, and he would eliminate them.
COMMAND: Eliminate target and destroy data.
COMMAND: Preserve the silence.
COMMAND: Ensure the arrival.
As Reno made his way towards the door of the garage, knocking over tools, workstations and whatever else was in his way. The android assassin reached the door and raised a fist, but before he could smash the door down, it opened, revealing the Xenlongian who had attacked him with the sword.
The soldier reacted immediately, summoning a telekinetic shove that blasted the machine back a dozen feet. The blow left Reno still on his feet, but before he could make for the door again, he was hit by two, small, round objects. A quick examination revealed them to be grenades. Reno made for the door again, but did not reach it, as the whole room suddenly exploded.
The squad had assembled outside the base when they heard the blast of the grenades, followed by another, larger explosion as the combustible materials in the garage went up. Thick black smoke billowed into the air was flames filled what was left of the structure. Already the fire was inching towards the rest of the base.
“Where’s Sarge?” asked Alvara, the fear evident in her voice.
Her question was answered when Ansaria came running out of the entrance toward her troops, one arm holding her injured side.
“We need to get out of here, NOW!”
“Sarge, what’s going on? Is it that robot?” asked Slog.
“Yes, and if we don’t get out of here ASAP, soldier, then I’ll leave you here as a distraction, now move!”
“But Sarge, where are we going?” asked Alvara.
“To the spaceport. We have to get off this planet and get this information to the Throneship. If we don’t, then who knows how many people are going to die because of this conspiracy.”
The squad looked at each other uncertainly.
“Are you sure this is the right thing to do, sergeant?” asked Tread.
This brought a small laugh from the woman.
“This is all above my pay grade, Tread, but someone has to do it, and it looks like it’s gonna be us.”
The squad was silent.
“Well…I never particularly liked the desert anyway.” Said Slog.
Critter chattered an agreement.
“Speak for yourself, dust bunny. Some of us aren’t built to handle the cold.” Said Alvara.
“You coming Tread?” asked Ansaria.
The mechanical soldier was quite for a moment of two before answering.
“Well, it does all sound rather exciting. Yes, I’m in.”
“Good, then like I said, we need to get to the spacepo--”
Ansaria’s words were cut off by the beams of energy that suddenly lanced through the roof.
“He survived?!” said Slog.
“He’s upgraded himself. He’s like a tank now, all armor and firepower,” Said Ansaria. “We need to leave NOW!”
The squad began running away from the burning building. Behind them, it was impossible to tell if the sounds they were hearing were coming from the collapsing building, the rampaging droid, or both.
After they had reached a certain distance, Tread suddenly stopped.
“Tread, what’s the problem?” asked Ansaria.
“I believe I may be able to slow down our pursuer, sergeant.” Said Tread.
“And just how are you going to do that?”
Tread reached over his shoulder to the backpack that contained his various attachable weapons. There was a series of whirrs and clicks before Tread moved his arm again, his six pod rocket launcher now replaced with a single, large missile.
“I believe this should be sufficient for blowing the armory, sergeant. The resulting blast should stun our pursuer, at the very least.”
Ansaria considered the proposal.
“Think you can make that shot?”
Tread nodded.
“I have detailed files on the layout of the base. I can steer the missile into a structural weak point and set off the ammo.”
“Then do it. And let’s get out of here!”
Tread faced the building and raised his arm level to his head. After a few moments of calculations, the missile launched from his arm, streaking toward the building.
“Get down everyone!” said the sergeant.
The squad, minus the android, dropped to the ground as the missile struck the building outside the armory.
The explosion that had destroyed the garage palled in comparison to the fireball that erupted from the exploding weapons and ammo. The building was ripped apart by the explosion and the resulting boom echoed across the desert. Tread was thrown back by the force of the blast, flying over his comrades and landing in the sand with a heavy thud. Debris rained down around them, broken, jagged, and mostly on fire.
After a few moments, Ansaria peeked up from the sand she had thrown herself onto. The base that they had called home for the last sixteen months was now a crater filled with fire, only a handful of sturdy foundation still remaining intact. The rest of her squad slowly rose from the ground as well.
“Slog, you and Critter check on Tread. If he can walk, get him to his feet. If the first blast didn’t alert the Outpost, this one will.” Said Ansaria, gingerly holding her side. She felt like that mad machined had punched her all over again.
As soon as Tread was up, the squad moved away from the crumbling remains of their base, unaware of the figure still moving inside.
The squad took refuge inside a rocky outcropping some distance into the sands. Black smoke could be seen still billowing up above the sand dunes, and the shriek of sirens could be faintly heard. They huddled together for an impromptu sit-rep.
“Alright everyone, here are the facts,” said Ansaria, while Alvara wrapped a fresh bandage around her abdomen.
“We are currently in possession of evidence indicating high level infiltration in the Empire by enemy forces unknown. The Emperor is currently headed into what is most likely a trap, and the ICN has been compromised, meaning we can’t risk sending a message without it being intercepted. We are also being hunted by a seemingly indestructible android that is bent on collecting this information, and killing anyone who gets in his way. And to top it all off, we have to find someway of this planet, while at the same time being possibly dead or AWOL. Did I miss anything?”
“Not unless you also want us to cure that Amalgabeast plague while we’re at it, Sarge.” Said Slog.
Critter spoke up.
“We don’t have the authorization to leave the planet, Critter. Nor can we contact anyone, or risk someone else sending a message about us. We have to do this completely under the radar, which probably means we’ll have to steal a ship.”
The others looked uncomfortable.
“I don’t know, Sarge; stealing ships, faking our deaths, this seems like its libel to get us thrown in the brig for the rest of our lives.” Said Slog.
“Or, you know, executed.” Said Alvara.
“I’m not happy about the situation either, but if we don’t do this, who will?”
Tread was the first to speak up.
“I believe the sergeant is correct. Like it or not, this problem is now ours, and we are obliged to solve it.”
“Thank you, Tread. Anyone else?”
When no one else spoke up, Ansaria continued.
“All right, then lets get stated.”
The first thing they did was take inventory. Everyone still had their weapons with them from when they went out to investigate the crash, and everyone had a decent supply of ammo. Critter’s droid had been left behind, so Slog was responsible for keeping the tiny teammate safe.
“Tread, do you have like a storage compartment, or an interior safe where you could keep the drive?” asked Ansaria.
“I beg your pardon, sergeant?”
“Does your chest open up with an empty space inside for storing things? Maybe one that’s bigger on the inside?”
“I am afraid that I am not equipped with such a feature, sergeant.”
“I guess I’ll hold onto it, then.” Said, Ansaria, as she slipped the drive into a secure pocket on her suit.
The next order of business was escaping the planet.
“M, could you give us a map, please?”
Alvara toyed with her TIG for a moment before projecting a map of the local area. Across the Outpost from where the base had once stood was the spaceport.
“Our best bet is to keep to the south, skirting the town and sneaking into the port from the desert side.” Said Ansaria, who traced her finger along the map as she spoke.
“How long would it take us to reach the port on foot?” asked Slog.
“Approximately two and a half local hours.” Said Tread.
The others groaned at the answer. Ansaria sympathized. The afternoon was getting late, and it would be dark by the time they got to their destination. The night would give them cover, but it would also make infiltrating the facility all the more difficult.
“No good. We need to get there and off this planet ASAP.” Said Ansaria.
“I have a suggestion, sergeant,” said Tread. “We procure a vehicle.”
“Negative. I don’t want us going anywhere near town.”
“We will not need to, sergeant.” Said Tread.
He keyed his own TIG and a series of dots appeared on the map.
“These are facilities stationed in the desert. Storage areas, work sites, test grounds; all located in the desert with the staff and owners living in town. I propose we… accommodate transportation from one of these locations. The nearest one…” he said, pointing a dot not far from where the base was marked on the map. “Is a scientific study area. Very small operation. I am fairly confident it will have adequate transportation.”
Ansaria turned the proposal over in her mind.
“Well then, unless anyone has a better suggestion, let’s go steal us a ride. How far is it?”
“Approximately twenty minutes.”
“Then lets double time it, troops! Move out!”
The march through the desert had been uncomfortable, but doable. Alvara and Tread set the pace; the half reptilian Gorgonian energized by the hot desert sun while the mechanical soldier marched without regard for the temperature. By the time they reached the research lab, the remaining members were pouring rivers of sweat.
The squad perched atop a nearby dune, their uniforms set to cameo and Tread covered by a camouflage tarp to observe the facility. A single hovercraft sat outside a small, circular building located next to a two-story silo. Both buildings were bone white with thick, black windows that were impossible to see through.
“Well, it’s our lucky day. A nice four-seater, perfect for the lot of us. Tread, you’re gonna have to hold M’s tail in your lap, unless she prefers to dangle it over the side of the craft as we go.”
“I think I can mange my own seating arrangements, Sarge.” Said Alvara, without taking her eyes off the building.
Critter chimed in.
“Yes, Critter, I know there are five of use, but that’s not really an issue when one of the passengers could double as a hood ornament.”
“How do you want to do this, Sarge?” asked Alvara.
“I’m not sure. I want us to stay as unnoticed as possible. Until our mission is complete, we have to go off the grid.”
“I’ve got an idea, Sarge,” said Slog.
Ansaria raised an eyebrow.
“Alright, Slog, I’ll bite. What is it?”
The squad had repositioned themselves on a dune directly in front of the parked hovercraft. Tread had replaced his hex launcher with his remote controlled rocket.
“Remember,” said Ansaria, “We need to scare them; not endanger them.”
“I assure you, sergeant, my aim is impeccable.” Said Tread.
“It better be. Alright everyone, get ready to run like your worst fear was behind you.”
Critter chattered from Slog’s belt.
“Then get into the spirit of it and picture some birds are after you.” Said Ansaria, “On my mark, Tread. Three…two…one…”
With an almighty boom the rocket impacted the sand just meters from the back wall of the lab. The building appeared to shake in the explosion, and Ansaria could only imagine what was going through the minds of the occupants inside. Meteor crash? Heat lightning? Could their experiments possibly create such an effect?
The black glass doors slid apart and four beings rushed out. Two were taller than Ansaria, but whip thin. One was a meter tall crustacean, with two massive claws and a pair of small pincers beneath them. The last was a squat, four legged being who slung each set of legs forward as it walked. All of them were wearing fully body suits, the white color and black face plate matching the building from which they emerged. A moment later, a small orb emerged and hovered after them, probably a lab assistant bot.
As soon as the group passed around the corner, Ansaria jabbed her hand out and the squad rose as one from the sand and raced to the vehicle. Slog and Ansaria slid into the front seat while Tread and Alvara piled into the rear. Slog slammed the mini-drive that contained the hot-wire command that Tread had written on his TIG, and the vehicle hummed to life. Slog swiftly changed gears, slammed his boot on the pedal and the craft took off like a shot, rocketing up a dune, then out into the open desert and out of sight. As they raced away, the squad congratulated each other on a successful op.
None of them had noticed the second lab assistant bot that had observed them through the whole thing.
By the time they reached they reached the spaceport, night had fallen. While the sky was moonless for the next few days, the squad needed no artificial lighting; the space port was an illuminated beacon, marking the outpost to observers approaching the planet from the night side.
The spaceport was the largest structure in the outpost, though it was tiny compared to other facilities Ansaria had seen. A lone control tower loomed over the sprawling complex that processed all the incoming and outgoing people, cargo and vessels. Six hangers sat in row opposite the building, all of their doors closed up.
Currently, there were only three ships in the port. The largest was a dull brown vessel shaped like a brick with a triangular cockpit. Golden letters on the side marked it as the Twin Suns Mechanical and Robotics Trade. Another was a sleek, oval-shaped craft the color of mercury that bobbed as it hovered. According to Alvara (who stayed up to date on the goings on in the outpost), that craft belonged to an executive from Voyanor Industries who was visiting the planet to scout for a potential factory spot.
The last ship was the one that had the squad’s attention. A thin, blade shaped ship with two pairs of backward sweeping wings, it looked big enough to fit half a dozen passengers.
“It belongs to General Mognor Rul from Tramator. His youngest daughter lives here and she just had her first child. The general took a personal shuttle to visit his new grandchild.” Said Alvara.
“Beautiful,” said Ansaria. “Tread, you sure you can get us in?”
“It is highly unlikely that this ship’s security will cause a problem for me, sergeant.” Said Tread, a touch of irritation in his voice.
“Good. Slog, you sure you can fly her?”
“Vara, how many arms and legs does the general have?”
“Two each.”
“Then we’re good, Sarge.”
“That’s what I like to hear. Come on, troops. We do this, and we’re half way towards saving the Empire.”
“Think they’ll promote you to major, colonel, or just jump ya straight to general?” asked Slog.
“Yeah, Sarge, after all, you’ll have the ride for one.” Said Alvara.
Ansaria laughed.
“I think we’ll have to return the ship once we’re done with it, M. Alright Slog, gun it!”
Slog once more slammed on the accelerator and the craft raced down the dune where they had been parked and headed toward the port. Before the could slam into the static field ringing the perimeter, Slog slammed on the brake, swinging the craft around and bringing it to a stop lengthwise just a hair away from the fence.
Summoning her telekinesis, Ansaria lifted Slog (and with him, Critter) and Tread over the fence. Those two were needed in the cockpit, and since if anyone was going to make it off the planet it would be them, Ansaria had given Tread the drive for the time being. With the first two safely on the ground, Ansaria lifted herself and Alvara over the fence.
The effort left Ansaria winded, but otherwise fine. The group crouched low and made their way toward the craft. Since no alarms sounded, Ansaria figured that they were so far undetected. She just hoped it stayed that way. It seemed like an eternity before they reached the cover of the craft, but they finally did and Tread went to work. Once again, time seemed to stretch out unbearably for Ansaria, as every moment she expected to suddenly hear the deafening wail of alarms. However, Tread accomplished his task without incident, and the squad quickly boarded the craft.
The rear of the ship was composed of five compartments, all of them with their doors closed. A single door indicated the location of the cockpit, and in a moment, that door was open. The room was surprisingly large, with a pair of seats at the front for the pilot and copilot, another pair on opposite sides of the cockpit door, and a single, wide chair in the middle of the floor. While Tread and Slog took their positions, Ansaria sat in the chair. It wasn’t quite built for her (the back was too low and the seat and arm rests too wide), but otherwise it was comfortable.
“This general knows how to travel,” she said to herself. “I may just have to keep this ship after all.”
After a few moments of work, Tread and Slog had the ship activated and powering up. The next instant, the comm. device in the ship activated.
“Attention! Unauthorized departure is a violation of Imperial law! Deactivate your craft and submit yourselves to spaceport authority officials!”
“Looks like they finally noticed us,” Said Ansaria. “Slog! Departure time?”
“Just a few more minutes, Sarge,” Said Slog, who worked the controls that Tread indicated to him.
“Attention! Failure to comply with departure standards is a felony offense! Outpost Civil Authority has been contacted! Deactivate craft and submit to spaceport authority officials!”
Ansaria could see from the view port a dozen figures headed they way. Most were on foot, but some were speeding ahead in hover carts. They would be surrounded soon, and she didn’t know if they stop them from preventing their departure.
“Slog….we need to leave. Now.”
“Attention! Final warning! Failure to deactivate your craft and submit to spaceport authority officials will be taken as an action of hostile intent against Imperial lives and property! Lethal force is authorized!”
“Slog!”
As soon as she spoke, the engines kicked to life. The antigravity units that lifted the ship created a wind storm that buffeted the spaceport authority officials, even knocking some to the ground. The ship rose rapidly in the air, Slog now maneuvering the nose of the craft skyward.
As they gained speed and prepared to quickly depart from the planet, Ansaria caught a glimpse of the complex below. From a hidden compartment below the roof rose a large cannon; an anti-aircraft gun.
“Slog, punch it!”
The pilot gladly complied, the ship shot upward, racing towards the stars that filled the sky before them.
Just as Ansaria felt like she could breath again, the ship was rocked by a cannon blast. The ship wobbled, but quickly straightened out and accelerated even more. Two more energy blasts flew past them before they broke the atmosphere and escaped the cannon’s range.
All at once the squad breathed a loud sigh of relief before briefly giving a cheer. They’d managed to destroy a killer robot, steal a shuttle, and escape the planet; all without killing anyone. Not bad for a bunch recruits who’d done nothing but get sunburned for the last sixteen months.
“Great job, all of you. I don’t care if I have to iron the Emperor’s cape for a month to get ’em, but you’re all getting medals.”
“Hey Sarge, I think I stubbed a toe escaping that glitching bot. Think I can get an Indigo Ex?”
“If anyone’s getting an award for being wounded, Slog, it’s me. Need I remind you that I got punched in the chest by that ‘glitching bot’?”
“Point taken, Sarge.”
“Give me a status report. How bad was that blast we took?”
“All our equipments reading good, and it looks like it only penetrated a few levels in the aft.”
“Good. Now, Tread, where are we going?”
“I have the location of the major military center near the front. Zentamex Nine. That is the most likely destination for the Emperor to re-supply before engaging in battle. We will need to stop and refuel before we reach the destination, but we should be there in time to rendezvous with his Imperial Majesty.”
“Best news I’ve heard all day, Tread. Alright, plug in the destination, power up the Z-Engine and let’s get out of here. I think we could all use a meal.”
The team gave another, more haggard cheer at the prospect of some food and rest, as Slog readied the ship for the jump. However, the celebratory mood was shattered has alarms sounded.
“What’s happening!?” said Ansaria.
“That blast scrambled some of the wiring in the Z-engine! The unit’s supercharged! The ship’s jumping to Z-Space!”
“Did you get the course set??”
“I did, but the systems overloaded! I have no idea where we’re heading!”
In front of the ship, a yawning chasm of black and purple energy had opened in front of the ship. With a kick, the ship launched itself into the void, which closed in on itself as the ship fully entered it.
On the planet below them, the spaceport gleamed as a single silver star on the face of the planet, letting the entire universe know they were there.