Standing weightless in the airlock, using his magnetic boots to anchor him to the deck, Scar hit the button to open the outer hatch. It slid open and he pulled himself out, clinging to Chameleon's side with magnetic gloves and boots. Isaac had managed to get them up close to the vessel. They were only two or three shuttle's length from what he guessed would be outside of the cargo hold. Just as well the Bad Blood's superior stealth generator kept both him and the Chameleon hidden. He made a mental note to commend Isaac's piloting skills when he returned and lifted the huge grapple gun onto one shoulder. In zero gravity, it was easy to lift. Using his magnetic boots to anchor himself to the side of the ship, he fired. The grapple shot across the gap between the two craft, the electromagnets activating automatically as it hit the hull of the other ship. where it stuck fast.
After securing the other end of the chain to the Chameleon, Scar stowed the grapple gun inside the airlock - it was too big and unwieldy for him to carry around onboard the other ship anyway.
As he began to pull himself quickly along the chain towards the Rough Skull vessel, his mind now filling up with worry about his youngest child, "I should never have gone away and left her! Now she may be somewhere on that ship; perhaps alive, perhaps…. perhaps not." Onboard the Chameleon, with his sons asking questions and the business of making a plan to distract him, he had been able to ignore the anxiety. Now, the total silence of space made the thoughts in his head much more disquieting. The idea of any harm befalling his fierce, determined, little daughter was terrible to him. Again, he put it vehemently away from his mind, "I will cut my way through any Rough Skull who tries to stop me. Whatever awaits me on that ship, I will find her and bring her back… I refuse to consider any other outcome."
Now he was at the Rough Skull command vessel, splayed onto the side of the vast edifice like an insect. He tripped the switch that allowed the chain to spring free of the grapnel, freeing the Chameleon but leaving the grapnel fastened to the warship's hull. Using the magnetic gloves and boots, he climbed across to the nearest airlock.
Since becoming an outlaw, this was all familiar territory to Scar. He had forcibly boarded so many ships, he felt he could almost do it on automatic. That was something he knew he had to guard against. "Breaking into a rival clan shuttle - where I might face a mere handful of enemies - is very different to breaking into a command vessel which would be filled with hundreds of warriors. I must stay alert and not get complacent, if I am to bring Spyrro back."
He pulled out another trusty weapon from his piratical arsenal: a blackout bomb, known as a deadener. When detonated it would disrupt all electrical devices within a limited radius, always useful for gaining entry to a ship when he intended to steal it and didn't want to damage the airlock by using explosives. Scar secured the deadener to the control panel of the outer hatch, then crawled quickly back to the grapnel, gripping the handle of the electromagnet as an added precaution.
The grenade pulsed. Anchoring his boots firmly to the side of the ship, Scar climbed back to the airlock, pulled a lever from his toolkit, inserted it in the side of the now de-powered hatch and began to pull. His shoulders strained and sweat started out on his skin inside the tight void suit. Then he was rewarded with a gale of escaping air as the lock gave. He waited until the rushing from the inner lock had died down and then inserted his gloved fingers in the opening he had made. Pulling with all his strength he was able to hold the depowered hatch open long enough to pull himself inside. Knowing he had to work quickly, Scar took out another deadener, slapping it onto the control panel of the inner lock this time. At that instant, the airlock switched to a secondary power source and the outer hatch sealed shut automatically behind him, but he did not have time to open it again before the blackout bomb went off.
Cursing he retreated to the far side of the airlock, bracing his legs against the sides of the chamber. Again the grenade pulsed and again he wedged the leverbar in, wanting to get onboard before he attracted unwelcome company. After a few moments' effort he had the inner lock open too and slipped inside.
He looked around at the place he had stepped into. "Definitely the cargo hold," He reassured himself, looking around at the huge, metal containers stacked on top of each other, "The juvenile quarters should be on the next level."
He could have broken directly into the upper floor, but the quarter deck would be more densely populated than the cargo hold and he would risk being discovered much sooner. It was only a matter of time before someone noticed his presence anyway. With an irritable click in his throat, he realised that - for the first time since he had left the Chameleon - he was visible.
"That second deadener must have knocked out my camouflage! Curse you, bitch goddess!" But he knew it was an occupational hazard. The stealth generators were sensitive and he had been too close when the blackout bomb went off. On the plus side, the deadener would also have killed the security camera feed from the airlock too, so he didn't need to worry about that.
He shrugged mentally "The effects of the deadener are only temporary, maybe it will begin to work again. In the meantime I have to focus on my objective."
He looked up at the ceiling and saw with satisfaction a ventilation shaft, directly overhead.
Lex reached the foot of the cliff and leaned against it for a moment. It jutted up from the silvered conifers, like bones sticking out of a carcass. She could no longer hear the dogs but she knew they wouldn't be far behind her. With this morning's bright sunshine and last night's crisp, fresh snowfall still on the ground, she knew even the most average of trackers could follow her trail. She would have to keep this pace up or they would soon begin to close the gap.
Cursing herself for leaving the plasma cannon onboard the Dragonfly, she scanned the cliff face above her. There looked to be some sort of rock shelf, she guessed it must be about twenty-five to thirty meters high. She had to hope there were caves she could hide in up there. At least whoever was tracking her on foot wouldn't be able to get to her easily, and she doubted it would be easy to land a helicopter up there either.
"It's been a few months since I did any free solo climbing, (A type of climbing where the climber does not use any ropes or safety gear to protect them from falling.)" She thought, staring up at the rock face that towered over her "I just hope I'm not too out of condition!"
An eagle screamed far overhead, wheeling in obsessive circles through the freezing blue, its raptor's eyes able to see the whole world, but focused only on scurrying shapes far below.
She took a deep breath and began to scramble upwards, using her strong climber's hands to find holds on the uncompromising rock face, driving the tough, spiky soles of her boots into places where the ice and snow still clung to the rocks.
She reached up to the next handhold, a tiny ledge no wider than a finger tip, and pulled herself upwards, shutting all thoughts of the pursuit out of her mind. She needed to be calm and focused, climbing while panicky or distracted was a fatal combination. She advanced a bit at a time, the cold air burning her lungs, trying to think about nothing but the next grip or the next toehold.
Look up and there was just the cliff face, sheer and cruel. Look down (never a good idea) miles and miles of conifers, the snow covered treetops tipped with diamond brilliance in the midday sun. She must be almost thirty meters up the wall by now. Above her she could see the shelf - or at least she could see the place where she knew the shelf was.
"I just have to keep going," She thought, "I have to reach the top before they get here, or I'll be too exposed - even with my camouflage! "
She pushed her knee into a crack in the rock, reached up for the next hold and began to pull herself upwards… and was horrified to feel the ledge crumble under her fingers. She could feel herself beginning to fall...
Scar made his way silently through the ventilation system of the Rough Skull ship, the ever-present hum of circulating air an echo of his busily whirring brain. This was not a vessel he had ever set foot on, but it shared a similar layout with the clan's other large warships that he knew very well. As he neared the place where he guessed the juvenile section of the quarter deck to be, it occurred to him that he would have a major problem if his cloaking device was still not functioning.
"It is going to take time to search for her and every second I am here increases the risk of my being discovered."
He decided to stop and check the camouflage device again. Halting at the point where several tunnels intersected, he flipped open the control panel of his wristcom. Himself and Isaac had also managed to modify the Bad Blood's superior stealth generators so that the device was operated via his control panel.
Looking at the bright LED display, he snorted in surprise: the device was back online! "The effects of the blackout bomb were only temporary. I knew you had not deserted me, bitch goddess!" He clicked to himself in satisfaction and activated the control.
A few minutes later, he dropped out of a vent and landed silently in the corridor. A quick scan to either side told him he was alone, apart from the occupants of the rooms, most of whom would be unconscious. As a juvenile himself, Scar had used his quarters only to sleep or if he was ill. The rest of his time was spent on the ship's communal decks, mixing with other males his own age; eating, training and brawling.
"Even if she is here - how am I to locate Spyrro?" He thought unhappily. "If I begin breaking open doors, I will soon give myself away."
Suddenly he heard voices approaching. He just had time to haul himself into the vent and slide the cover back before they rounded the corner.
The high pitch of their voices made it obvious these yautja were juveniles, two of them, their conversation echoing in the empty hall.
"You need to stop letting Sek'Met push you around Ito," One said, "We may not be Sain'Ja yet but you should not allow yourself to be shamed!"
"Shut your jaws, Ti'Maat!" Snarled another voice - obviously the target of this criticism, "I did not hear you objecting, probably because you were flat on the floor!"
Inside the vent, Scar frowned. There was something strange about the voices but he couldn't put a talon on what it was.
The one called Ti'Maat growled, "One day that tall stack of hard meat shit will regret treating me so!"
Ito scoffed, "Sek'Met is too busy to even know you exist. Did you not notice all the fuss over this …child they found on the enemy shuttle?"
Scar's ears pricked up, "Are they talking about Spyrro? They must be!"
"Yes, I heard!" Ti'Maat gave a click of annoyance.
"Arriving on a bad Blood shuttle, no less! Threw herself at Sek'Met and the rest of them like a wild beast when they tried to drag her out of that ship, and she little more than an infant!"
Despite the gravity of the situation, Scar found he was grinning unwillingly inside his void helmet, "Spyrro, my little fury - that girl could start a fight in an empty room!"
"I would have blown her stupid head off!" Grumbled the other juvenile.
"Well they did not," Said the one called Ito, "Sek'Met was so pissed off, I heard they threw her in the brig - just like an adult!"
Through the limited vision of the vent grill Scar saw them pass underneath him. Then, the one called Ito paused for a moment, head lifted as if scenting the air. Scar tensed, had the juvenile detected his presence? He hoped not. He could kill these young ones easily enough, but… they were the same age as Selim and Isaac. He didn't want to kill them if he could avoid it.
Ito was standing right underneath him.
"Come on, Ito!" Snarled Ti'Maat, "I am hungry!"
The slim figure stood there while the moments slid by. Scar's fingers tensed over the palm catch of his dah'kte.
Then Ito shrugged and followed Ti'Maat out of sight.
Thanks for all the views - if you're reading and enjoy, please follow, favourite and review cos, you know.
Thanks to my reviewers - LovyDovy7, Kassandra, lexia the beautfiful wolf, Turniptree - you don't know how much I enjoy getting your comments! :) I love writing and it is what keeps me (mostly) sane, but still it's lovely to hear people enjoy it.
LovyDovy7 - yes, even though Spyrro she can be difficult, she's still only little. Kids that age can be so infuriating, but then they do something cute and you remember that they are still your baby! I have been trying to write her that way and not just make her annoying.
Kassandra - you are way too kind, please don't give up any kidneys! I shall try and ensure hell is unleashed imminently.
lexia the beautiful wolf - aw thanks, I have to try and not post too much too quickly because I don't want to post rubbish or have to go back and close plot holes, but I'm glad you are enjoying it!
Turniptree - I'm glad that you enjoyed the first two, I do my best to cause my readers anxiety (in a good way).
Love n hugs
ScifiTrash xxx