Chapter 12: Route to Safety is Second
Within the vents, quickly moving about without a sound made. As echoes of voices outside the metal vibrate the walls. the range of voice tones all had one emotion, rage. Leaving nothing else but for the wandering ear for them to catch on.
When the footsteps got much closer to a gate. Top heads marching about, some staying near, in chances of any them with good hearing, rise higher, for them to hear the laboring breathing. Going left or right, were out of the option, as the group shorten out, leaving only a handful.
A sneak attack could only be the next thing to do. In shakiness reaches for a screw. Shifty eyes going to the bolt to the Plumber Agents.
"Plumbers, what are your reasons in this section, when you are orderly needed in the higher decks?" A familiar voice called out in authority.
At the tone, they bow faced the voice, when given the right sent-off, reported swiftly.
The wander could have listen, but the fear struck hard and honed on the lone Plumber that dared himself, to listen of how things fallen apart. Could it really mean for the waving wicker thoughts.
"Orders from the ship Captain only hold, if they are quickly passed to a higher rake Plumber, which of course, is I or three others. Who never reported to around. Uncalled for order, head back to higher decks or unarmed discharge is the least of your worries . . . March soldiers!"
They gave a nod in understanding and did so in leaving the hallway. When a door hissed shut that blocked the way, left the lone Plumber be, with eyes glancing from the doors to the gate. None with care looked to his wrist scanner, quickly but precise.
"Another deck down, the area is clear, likely Young Magister Tennyson is there." Pausing to look back at the gate, with a quick reply. "Hopefully."
The vent wander got the message, taking the right down when a shaft dump came into view twelve to fourteen minutes later. Carefully crossing over to a large ledge, just enough room to have legs pressed against one walls, on a whim of luck got arms on the other, able to spider crawl down. The metal burned the unclothed skin as the lower the person went.
Short break to catch a breath, sweat beating down on the flesh, clothes stick close. A huff a word grunted out, in slight annoyance to where the person's deep and tired voice was going when finally caught on.
"The boiler room, really, Guard Dog? Finding a new reason to hate you again."
A crack of laugh left out, but when catching a good breath, kept moving down. His body finally coming into contact with a gate. Rising just enough to give it a good kick. Letting the echo banged out. Waiting out before jumping out of the vent. Loss of footing for a moment, grabbed the railing just in time, eyes catching of how endless the bottom looked.
"Damn . . ."
"The word choice would be wise, I did that earth theory of dropping a coin or small object, and the bottom took about an hour to respond back. Falling would be wise not to do, as I well spoke ill of it. So yes, damn, that it is, Ben."
Said person looked over his shoulder, with a glare at the other, mostly for the blend smartness of the tone.
"Anything else you like to add, Rook? Or are we done here talking about laws of physics?"
"If you think so?"
"Shut up."
"In wisent, I would but there are some pressing things we need to speak about."
"Yeah and what is that?"
"The war is by vastly taken a far darker turn and getting off this ship and away. Regroup those who will listen to reason and be done with this."
"Rook, that's a pipe dream. The latter anyway. Getting off this ship is a start, but to where."
"I have a place in mind, from what the star lines I saw, the distance would not be long, but far enough for them to catch on. Would that work?"
Ben thought about it, looking about the area, as the glows from the boilers of red, yellow, green, purple, and blue colored the room. Groans and hisses filled the silence just enough of the dead air. Metal creek and expand dimmed enough for the shadows eerie than every before of a normal shadow.
"This could work, but I need to do some things before even getting to a ship. That if we can find one that doesn't have a tracker."
"I have a ship. I will be sure to scan it for trackers and anything that doesn't belong."
Ben gave an odd look to Rook, but didn't press about it.
"Okay, than you do that. Pack in extra things as well. Food, weapons, med kits . . . anything else that could keep us alive. Got it?" Ben said, question just enough to give a tone of understanding to the other, heading down one of the many catwalk, away from the fuel bars.
"And what will you be doing while I do that?" Rook questioned.
"Need to know within the circle, sadly you are not in it. forty minutes at most. Ship be ready at the way point of take off, and we're off. No more questions, until we are off. No get going. War wasn't, won for those who sat in their chairs, thumbs up where the sun don't shine."
"Very well, Ben. See you in Forty, the ship my look like a Plumber Buster, so don't be to shock when seeing it."
And with that Rook left, as Ben exited another way. First part plan in motion, only now leads, for it to stay that way.