Chapter Five

CHARGE!!!!!



Disclaimer: Don't own, not even darling Malcolm… =)

Dedication: To Celeia, who can't spell – or come up with clever excuses for typos! =) =) =) You know I love you… Note: We've been best friends since we were eight… =) =) =) And to our reviewers!!!! You are so great! This whole story was written for you! Please keep it up, and we'll keep posting frenetically! =) =) =)



And now, the story!





Malcolm Reed was gathering a posse. There was no other word for it. He walked down corridors, grabbing people to aid him in his attack against the terrorist on the ship. Everyone seemed very willing to come, and some seemed to expect him. Malcolm had each of them obtain their own weapons, then took them to a room to discuss strategy.

While all this was going on, the fugitive was crouching in an oxygen duct. Breathing slowly to counteract the effect of the over-oxygenated air, he listened to the plans of the English man.

Finishing his lecture on safety precautions in guerilla warfare, Reed was pleased to note the confident faces around him. Some were unfamiliar species, but all appeared confident.

"Right, then, are we ready to stop this nonsense?" Malcolm asked his attentive pupils.

"Yes!" They chorused excitedly.

"Splendid. Well, come along." Reed led his group into a corridor, posting each at their strategic position. He then started off on his own assignment.

"I shall be back at fifteen hundred hours." Malcolm assured his troops. "Until then, follow your plan of action if anything catastrophic occurs."

Leaving them to their posts, Reed found what he was looking for quickly – access to the ventilation system. There were three networks involved in this system, for exhaust, oxygen and one other gas that Malcolm did not recognize. 'Most likely for some alien species aboard the ship', he thought. Shrugging it off, Reed entered the exhaust vent, figuring it to be the most likely, as their prey was humanoid.

Stalking silently through the vents, the tactical officer constructed a map in his head of the various turns he had made. Finally, he crossed over into the oxygen channels, remembering to regulate his breathing. Mapping out the entire ship could take several days, but if he could get a rough picture of some of the ventilation, he should be able to construct a map of the rest. This would be the most likely path for the terrorist to get from one part of the ship to another – and with the size of the ship and the importance of the ducts, it was impossible to simply block off the entrances and exits. Even a systematic search would be relatively easy to avoid… Reed pondered the issue as he traveled swiftly astern through the pipes.

His posse spoke to one another while he was gone.

"He's so brave!" One said to the guard next to him. "I'd almost given up on there being any noble, self-sacrificing mavericks left in the universe!"

"Well, how do you think we can help if he's such a loner?" The other asked, slightly puzzled. "We're not doing much here, and I really want to get my hands on that fugitive. He killed a guy I knew last week!"

"Yeah…" The first guard thought for a moment. "Well, we know that the terrorist is using the ducts – but it's nearly impossible to catch him through there. So we need to get him out. How could we set a trap?"

"Everything's been tried…" The second man suddenly had an idea. "Wait! Maybe if we set a trap involving the advanced technology those two are using to help repair the engines!"

"Do you think Malcolm would go for that?" Reed had requested they go on a first-name basis, ridding themselves of the extra seconds involved in recalling rank.

"Sure!" The second guard said enthusiastically. "In fact, lets get it going immediately! Remember what he said about initiative?"

"Yeah." The first guard grinned excitedly. "Let's get to it!"

The two headed off to set up their trap, leaving the corridor empty. A lone figure slipped around the corner. 'So, those two have technology I could use…' The shadowy figure turned to find out where the two were working on the ship.

Reed returned promptly at fifteen-hundred, finding two of his band missing. Nobody seemed to know where the two had gone… Dismissing them as casualties of war or other responsibilities, Reed took his men to confer and draw up plans of attack.





Well, there you are, Celeia! =) =) =)

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Love, Peace and Joy,

Hari