Andar studied the schematics laid out before him. They showed the basic default layout of a standard Peacekeeper Command Carrier. He hoped to the Goddess that this ship they were aboard was indeed close to a basic carrier as the maintenance corridor that Malika said ran along the starboard bulkhead was shown plainly there on the plans just behind the hanger bay bulkhead. Undercover of the Wraith's stealth systems they were to cut an access into the hopefully deserted corridor and then use the tunnels to travel through the carrier until they were close to were Scorpius kept the codes they needed. That is, if Berret could locate them. The AI aboard the Wraith was to mask any interruption in the carrier's alarm system while they cut into the bulkhead, once they left the vicinity of the hanger bay and the coverage of the stealth system they were on their own to avoid detection. Andar took several deep breaths to relax himself. The waiting had turned out to be the hardest part of the mission. Glancing back over his shoulder at the Delvian girl he saw her meditating. Eyes closed, the woman muttered a low chant to herself. He'd wished he were able to do the same when the panel next to Malika lit up and a tone softly chimed. The Delvian's eyes snapped open and she immediately went to work reading the data from the board.
"The Shrike has keyed the beacon," she said unnecessarily. "Reading position now."
Andar waited anxiously as the woman worked. After a microt the Delvian uttered a small curse.
"What's wrong?" asked the Sebacean teacher.
"Its as I feared. Scorpius is keeping the codes in the most secured section of the carrier. We'll be able to travel the maintenance tunnels most of the way, but there is at least one level we will have to cross out in the open," she explained while tracing the route they would have to take on the carrier layouts with one slim blue fingertip.
Andar frowned down at the open ground they would have to cover on shear nerve.
"Well, Berret said we could call it off at any point should we think it too dangerous," he said aloud.
Malika nodded remembering the contingency plan. Should the plan be called off for any reason they were to wait inside the Wraith for Berret's return. Should the Shrike not return within a reasonable time or should they terminated the plan while in route to the location and/or met resistance, they were to fight their way back to the ship and command the AI to initiate a programmed escape vector. On command, the Wraith would blow open the carrier's hanger bay doors using a single missile. Backing it's way free of the bay; the ship would then next empty it's entire armament of missiles inside the bay causing a chain reaction explosion that would destroy the carrier and anyone left aboard it, along with the codes and hopefully the broadcast unit that would send the codes.
It had surprised the Delvian that the assassin would sacrifice himself for someone else. While she still didn't trust the Shrike it was beginning to appear there was more to him then she first believed.
Malika shook her head. "If the Shrike's willing to risk himself, I'll be damned to hezmana if I'm going to back out," she said stubbornly. "I'm still game for it if you are?" she told Andar in challenge.
Andar shook his head right along with her. "Well, someone with mature common sense has to be along to watch over you two crazy people. It might as well be me." The Delvian girl gave him a devilish smile as he said, "Let's go and do this."
The Sebacean man straightened and button up his commander's uniform while Malika scooped up their equipment bag. As soon as it landed the Wraith's stealth system shields extended to cover the bay from wall to wall and they had remained in that condition. The pair dropped out the rear troop deployment hatch and using the missile rack and one rear-landing skid to hide themselves from view, began their work.
Malika placed the sensors that would enable the Wraith's AI to disrupt and take over the carrier's alarm systems in that area so the bulkhead could be safely cut without setting off any warning alarms. At her signal, Andar lifted the somewhat bulky plasma torch and began cutting. One benefit of growing up on a backwater Sebacean colony was the man was use to doing hard manual labor. He quickly cut through the metal wall while Malika stood guard with his pulse rifle. When he was finished, Andar yanked on the magnetic handle that he had attached to that side of the freed plate and pulled it out of the wall. He pulled his pulse pistol from its holster and ducked his head and shoulder inside to see if anyone had observed the operation from the other side of the bulkhead, the area was clear. The man moved through the opening and signaled for Malika to pass the bag through to him. After she did, she repositioned the magnetic handle on the opposite side of the plate and stepped through the opening herself. Together they lifted the piece of bulkhead back into place. Andar held the piece up while Malika used strips of magnetic hull patches to anchor the hunk of metal in place, to the casual glance the wall would look whole on this side with the dim corridor light. By switching off the current in the patches, all they would then have to do is kick the plate back out of the wall to re-enter the hanger bay.
They hid the equipment they no longer needed. Malika gave Andar the pulse rifle back and he slung it off one shoulder as she started to lead the way through the dimly lit tunnel.
"Blast it! I feel naked without a weapon," commented the girl, "I wish I at least had my knife."
Andar paused for a microt and dug through one pocket.
"Here," He said a few more microts later as he handed her a small object.
"What the hezmana is this?" she asked as she inspected the item.
"It's a knife," said the man as if it should have been obvious to anyone who wasn't blind.
Malika found the small cut out designed to help a finger nail unfold the blade. The blade swung open and the girl stared at the finger of metal that was literally barely as long as her smallest finger.
"You call this a knife? What the yotz do you expect me to do with this? Clean my nails?" she asked in amazement.
"Well beggars can't be choosers. If you don't want it..." he said reaching for the knife.
"Never mind, it's better then nothing," she replied while pulling the small blade out of his reach.
She folded the blade back into the handle while muttering sarcastically, "At least I'm be able to slit my own throat if we're caught by the Peacekeepers, it'll save them the trouble."
She slid the knife under a leather strap and pulled Andar along behind as she started again on their journey deeper into the tunnel. "Keep up and try not to trip over anything," she said.
Scorpius gave Berret the run of the carrier for the next few arns... more or less, as he was accompanied by an armed guard/escort at all times. He was allowed to wander the unrestricted areas while the Command Carrier traveled to the commerce planet where they would get supplies. In their conversation, Scorpius had mentioned that Val'Cirrus was being held in a special cell at the opposite end of the ship from his private security room, which made sense to the Shrike as one wouldn't want to keep prisoners too close to sensitive areas of a war-ship. Other then removing his pulse pistol the Peacekeepers had not attempted to disarm him further, leaving him his gauntlets and other hidden weapons. Knowing that Scorpius wouldn't rely on a single PK grunt to be able to stop an armed Shrike, Berret knew he had to be under some other type of surveillance also, most likely a camera system was following his every move and keeping the half-Scarren informed of his activities and whereabouts. Wanting to keep Scorpius attention as far away as possible from his workroom so Malika and Andar would have their change to break into it, Berret chose to visit the Master Shrike at her cell; playing the part of the gloating adversary which is what Scorpius might have expected him to do.
The guarded guided him to the cellblock and Berret's hands began to sweat at the thought of seeing the female Shrike again. To Berret's surprise the cell was actually in the floor in this section of the huge Command Carrier. The ceiling of the cell was made of a clear substance allowing the occasional patrol of guards to look down inside the cell as they passed. The ceiling was at least three times the height of the woman trapped inside. Looking down into the room, Berret saw that the Shrike had been stripped of her armor and the boots with the deadly Bat'Rellite blades. The walls surrounding her had a dull yellow gleam to them that he realized had to be raw Qualta. That explained how the PK's got around the alloy tipped claws Val'Cirrus had. It surprised Berret that Scorpius had not simply ordered them ripped out. The fact that he was leaving the assassin locked-up but 'intact', told him the PK scientist had no attention of letting him go free even if he held up his end of the bargain. As soon as he would have handed Crichton over, Scorpius would have turned Val'Cirrus loose on him again.
Val'Cirrus glared up hatefully at Berret and let out an angry hiss. Dressed in a simple prisoner's uniform the female reptile looked almost harmless, except Berret knew that she was still very, very dangerous.
"You think you have won?" asked the Master Shrike venomously.
"I'm not the one in the cell," said Berret with a grin as he squatted down closer to the see-through floor.
Val'Cirrus raked a set of claws off one wall, sparks flared from the contact. "Scorpius betrayed the pact made with Arckatius," she rasped angrily. "After I escape from here and kill you, I'll come back and kill the frelling traitor."
Berret let out a laugh; "I don't believe Scorpius is the kind to leave that to chance. The only way you will ever leave this cell again is when they flush your dead body into space. I made a better deal with the half-breed. I win... you lose," he said tapping a finger on the clear floor for emphasis.
Val'Cirrus threw her head back and shrieked out a laugh of her own.
"Stupid, little Shrike," she spat. "Scorpius will betray you as quickly as he did the Syndicate." She looked at him and a sly toothy grin broke out across her scaly features. "Maybe if I wait long enough, Scorpius will throw you in here with me. Then I'll teach you your final lesson. We'll spend lots of time together before you die."
She leaned up against the wall as if having a causal chat with an old friend.
"Afterwards when I escape and take care of that vork, Scorpius, then I'll find your tralk Nebari bitch. Take her back to the Scarren Homeworld with me and save for special occasions. I'll only eat her a little bit at a time," Val'Cirrus hissed evilly.
Berret rose to his feet looking visibly shaken at Val'Cirrus' threats, a microt later his face twisted into a hateful glare.
"That will never happen, you depraved bitch!" cursed Berret. Shaking his fist at the assassin he said,
"I'll have Scorpius giving me your head on a Berillium serving tray part of the deal in exchange for Crichton. Enjoy your last days!"
Berret turned and stalked away from the cell so abruptly he almost knocked over the guard. Behind him, he could hear the hissing laughter of the Master Shrike in her cell. Berret hoped he put on a believable show; the uneasiness he felt wasn't hard to fake seeing the Master Shrike set him on edge to begin with.
That can be dealt with later, thought the ex-assassin. Right now it was time to create a much bigger diversion. Doing his best to still sound angry, he abruptly turned on his escort.
"Take me to the off-duty lounge," he ordered the trooper.
"Ouch!" said Andar aloud as he bumped his head against a low hanging pipe in the dim corridor.
"I told you to be careful," snapped Malika to the man following behind her.
"You told me not to trip over anything. I didn't... I banged my head," he told her.
"Well, don't do that either. Now be quiet... we're getting close to the access port."
The pair had traveled unobserved the entire length of the service tunnel and had made good time. A few more microns and the Delvian girl brought them to a stop beside an entrance access-way.
"Here it is," she announced in a whisper. She dug through her small pouch and produced a medical device used to listen to a patient's heartbeat and other internal sounds. She placed the earpiece to one blue ear and the sensor end against the doorway. She signaled for the Sebacean to remain silent as she listen for sounds on the other side of the hatch.
A few microts latter she whispered, "I don't hear anything."
Andar nodded and check that his uniform was settled correctly. "Now's as good a time as any," he said as the girl stepped back out of his way.
Andar spun the lock open and pulled the door slowly inward. He stuck his head out for a peek, half expecting someone to be waiting there on the other side to put a pulse bolt in it as soon as he did. When the bolt never came he stepped outside and looked in both directions.
"The coast is clear," he said and in a flash the Delvian girl was out in the main corridor by his side. They pulled the hatchway shut and re-secured it.
"Which way now?" asked Malika.
Andar looked up from the small tracking device to see that the usually confident girl was nervous with being out in the open.
"That way," he said as he pointed to their right. He placed the device in a pocket and taking the girl's left arm looped it through his right as if they were two lovers out for a stroll.
"Relax," he said in a low voice. "Its like Berret said... as long as we pretend nothing is wrong and that we belong here, nobody will give us a second glance. We're just another PK Officer and a pleasure slave looking for someplace private to go."
The Delvian girl swallowed hard and nodded slightly as she let the man lead her farther away from the relative safety of the maintenance tunnels.
They had gone only a little ways when they ran into their first test. A pair of off-duty grunts turned a corner ahead of them and came in their direction. Talking and joking loudly, it was obvious that the men had been drinking. Malika's arm went tense in Andar's as she saw the troopers heading their way, so Andar improvised on the fly to hide her nervousness. Before she could react he shoved the panicking girl into a corner made up of a bulkhead and a hull brace. He pushed himself up close to her and cut off her protests,
"Put your arms around me and look only at me... not matter what, your eyes stay solely on me," he ordered.
The girl nodded and wrapped her arms around the Sebacean man and buried her cheek against his shoulder.
"Not so tight!" gasped Andar and she forced her grip to loosen on the man.
Andar began to loudly whisper sweet nothings into the girl's ear as the pair of Peacekeepers approached the couple. Neither could see the two men but it was obvious they had stopped somewhere behind them as one said to his partner,
"Didya see that looker?"
"Aye, that was one fine tralk," slurred the other drunkenly.
"I've never seen that one before in the pool, I wonder when she got here?" the first one said.
One of them tapped Andar on the shoulder to get his attention,
"Say, mate? Doya' mind if we have a crack at her when you're finished?" the first voice asked.
Andar made a show of stiffening at the contacted. Prying Malika's arms from around him he slowly turned to glare at the two grunts. "Yes, I do mind very much," he said in a highly cultured voice that dripped venom.
Both men's jaws dropped as they read the rank insignia on Andar's collar.
"We beg your pardon, Flight Commander!" the first man stammered. "We didn't realize who you were.
We thought when we seen... that you were..." he started but couldn't decide how to finish without insulting the superior officer.
Andar lifted a single eyebrow and let the men stew for a few microts. He finally waved the pair off saying,
"I don't give a royal frell what you two nurfers thought. Just get out of my sight before I put you both on report."
"Yes, sir! Thank you, sir!" both men stammered as they moved to get out of Andar's vicinity.
Andar made as if to ignore the men as if they were not worth his notice. He held out a hand to Malika.
"Come, my dear. We shall find more suitable surrounding to continue our conversation," he said.
Malika joined him and fell in close to his side, her back to the departing men. Andar casually laid one hand over her swaying hip as they walked away.
When they thought the pair was out of earshot the first man turned to the second.
"That explains why we never saw that one before... she's been kept up in officer's country."
"Damn frelling officers! They always keep the best ones for themselves," complained the second man in answer.
Berret's escort led him to a noisy smoke filled lounge where a large number of the Peacekeepers off-duty congregated to relax, that is if you considered the chaos in the lounge relaxing. Here and there troopers drank, gambled, talked and joked loudly and in some instants fought. The Shrike pushed his way to the bar, some of the soldiers drunkenly ignored him while some of the more sober ones stepped out his way after realizing what the cloak and armor meant, the stares he received ranged from the uneasy to the outright hateful. Letting him do the work of forcing a way through the crowd, his escort followed behind Berret. The Shrike made it to the metal counter that served as a bar and had to reach over a seated Peacekeeper grunt with a bandage crossing over one eye to attract the attention of the barkeep. The gunmetal colored gauntlet on Berret's arm caught the low light over the bar and the glyphs and icons imbedded in the metal shone like Delvian Fire Runes. The seated man glanced up with his one good eye and then shot out of his seat as if somebody had shocked him with a stun baton. The good eye grew large with mindless fear and the man started backing away from Berret, all the while making a wordless animal-like cry. He backpedaled away from the Shrike until he tripped over some unseen object and toppled over a table. Before the occupants of the table could voice a protest, the man jumped back to his feet and continued his hasty backwards retreat, all the while keeping Berret in sight and sounding his wordless never-ending cry. Almost tripping and knocking several other patrons out of his way the man made it to the doorway and ran down the corridor away from the lounge, followed by the mocking laughter and hoots of the other Peacekeepers witnessing the clumsy display.
Berret looked as his guard and asked, "What the frell was that about?"
The PK grunt snickered, "That's old Asmanz. He had a run in with that female Shrike. It seems he got resleked up and decide to have some sport with the old girl one night when she was in here. She didn't take too kindly to it and removed his eye for him with one of those claws. Ate it right in front of him. I guess she was planning on eating the rest him but Scorpius put a stop to that just as she was describing how she planned to serve him up."
Berret forced himself to suppress a shutter at the thought of the Master Shrike but the guard seemed to catch it.
"I guess Asmanz had enough of you Shrike's for one lifetime... I bet he was thinking you were going to eat him too," he finished with a sadistic grin. Berret took the now vacant seat before answering the man.
"I don't eat my prey," he told the Peacekeeper as he raised up one armored arm and willed a single blade to slowly appear from the gauntlet and spear a nearby salt-covered snack food that John said reminded him of a big pretzel, whatever that was. He lifted the pulse-pistol size bake-good so it was eyelevel with himself and the guard. "I personally prefer to take 'other' trophies." The blade snapped back into it housing, startling the guard with its speed. In a blur, the blades on the Shrike's other arm shot out and slashed upward. The metallic snap of them closing again cut through the noisy room. The hunk of food seemed to hover by itself for a microt and then fell in two pieces straight into Berret's waiting hand. The Sebacean swallowed visibly as he realized that the Shrike performed the act without taking his eyes from his own. He then realized how quickly and easily he could die if the assassin wished for him too. With a smile, Berret offered the guard one half of the hunk of salted bake-good.
"I understand... sir," the escort said while refusing the Shrike's offer. Berret shrugged then tore off a hunk of the snack food and began to eat. The barkeep had wandered over and caught the last part of the show and Berret thought he was about to comment about there being a 'no weapons' rule in the lounge but the armed guard waved the protest off saying that the Shrike was a guest of Scorpius'. Berret turned his attention to the man standing behind the bar.
"Reslek... strong and now!" he demanded in a louder then necessary voice.
Berret hated Raslek, he had no idea how Chiana and the others could drink the stuff. Still it was one of the more potent drinks and something that the microbes could easily handled and filter from his system, something to do with it being grain based, unlike that wine Chiana and he had gotten drunk on a while ago. The ex-assassin noticed one of Scorpius' toadies watching him from one corner trying to be discreet so he forced himself to have several more of the dreadful drinks. At least the salty snack foods helped kill the taste he thought to himself. Berret casually surveyed the room every few microns and soon he found what he needed for the next phase of the plan. At a nearby table was one of the biggest Sebacean men he'd ever seen. By the scars on the man's face he had to have been a fearsome fighter... or at least he was by the stories he was sharing with his circle of friends. The big man eventually got up from the table to buy a around of drinks for his comrades and came over to the bar to stand close by where Berret was sitting.
Time to put part two into effect silently thought the Shrike, time for another distraction.
"Did I hear you say you were at the battle of Galron Seven?" asked the Shrike in a slightly slurred tone to the Peacekeeper who was waiting for his drinks.
"Yes, my entire regiment fought there," replied the trooper. "It was a hezmana of a fight too. Those Tresh Regulars where dug in but we went in and kick some major eema," he continued proudly.
Berret let out a choked laugh as he spat out half his drink and then pounded his hand on the bar top as if he found the Sebacean's statement to be the funniest thing he'd ever heard.
"Why are you laughing for?" asked the soldier confused.
Berret let his laughter die off into snickers before answering the man.
"The Tresh had a Shrike advisor, and he reported back that the Peacekeepers who landed on Galron couldn't find their eemas with both hands in broad daylight. Not only where they inept, but when it came to hand to hand fighting the Peacekeepers turned tail and ran away..." Berret let out another deep belly laugh and slapped the man on the shoulder.
"That is an outright lie!" bellowed the big man.
"The advisor went on to compare the Peacekeepers screaming as to that of teenage Hynerian females at a Luxan horror vid-show."
Berret looked oblivious to the man's anger or the crowd they were drawing as he went on.
"Come now, big man... show us all the Hynerian war-cry you made famous on Galron Seven. I'll wager that you can reach a pitch that will break glass," Berret said holding up his empty Raslek tumbler.
The Peacekeeper smashed the glass from Berret's hand and stood glaring and panting hard in front of him. He glanced at the armed escort who looked at a loss as to what to do. Turning back to the Shrike he said,
"If you were not a guest of Scorpius' Shrike coward, I would..." the Peacekeeper started to growl out.
"Do what?" snapped Berret back at the man, his good mood seemingly gone and replaced with his own anger. "Teach me a lesson? Show me what a brave warrior you are? Peacekeeper dolt."
Berret gave him a smile that didn't touch his ice blue eyes, "Without your pulse guns, you Peacekeepers are nothing but spineless cowards."
The man looked like he was about to lose his mind when one of his companions spoke up from their table.
"Big talk from a man with knives strapped to his forearms. Sergeant Pikes is unarmed," said the female PK.
"A very good point," said Scorpius' lieutenant as he pushed his way to the front of the group.
The Peacekeepers, including Berret's new large 'friend', came to attention as the man appeared in their mist. "At ease," he said to those around him. "The 'no-rank' rule inside this establishment applies here to everyone," he said to the crowd. Turning back to Berret, he added, "That includes you also, Shrike. That is unless you were planning on hiding under Scorpius' protection. In that case, please go on belittling the sergeant here and he will take it like a good Peacekeeper should, and follow his orders not to harm you." He looked around at the huge man and the crowd to see if they were listening closely before going back to the Shrike. "Or... you can follow the same rules as everyone else and back your hypothesis up while allowing the good sergeant a chance to defend his and his unit's honor."
The lieutenant folded his hands in front of him and waited for Berret's reply with a smile. The crowd was silent as they waited for him to respond and Berret scanned the surrounding faces, many of them angry.
"I don't need that Scarren half-breed's protection," he said with an evil grin. "Let's see what you got?" he told the big man.
The crowd cheered as the huge sergeant took off his uniform shirt, the man was much bigger then Berret originally thought. The lieutenant had decreed that the contest would be empty-hand and would continue until either only one man was standing or the other surrendered. Berret walked back over to the bar and held his forearms over the counter-top. With a sharp click both gauntlets released their hold on his forearms and fell to the bar's shiny surface. Before the watching patron's eyes the two pieces resealed themselves into single units again without the Shrike touching them.
Berret turned to those closest and said mischievously, "Don't touch! They bite."
They seemed inclined to believe him as while he stripped the rest of his armor off they cleared a circle around that section of the bar where the gauntlets lay.
The rest of the crowd cleared the tables and chairs from a large space in the middle of the lounge and the sergeant was already standing in the middle waiting for Berret. His escort caught his attention as he finished removing armor plates.
"Sir, the sergeant has never been beaten in unarmed matches. He's one of the fleets highest ranking champions," he told the Shrike.
"There's a first time for everything," replied Berret.
"No disrespect, 'sir'... but I hope the sergeant kicks your eema from one end of the carrier to the other. There was no call for what you said to him."
"There's a first time for that too," said Berret with a reckless grin as he stepped into the center of the makeshift ring to face the big man.
"The Shrike has keyed the beacon," she said unnecessarily. "Reading position now."
Andar waited anxiously as the woman worked. After a microt the Delvian uttered a small curse.
"What's wrong?" asked the Sebacean teacher.
"Its as I feared. Scorpius is keeping the codes in the most secured section of the carrier. We'll be able to travel the maintenance tunnels most of the way, but there is at least one level we will have to cross out in the open," she explained while tracing the route they would have to take on the carrier layouts with one slim blue fingertip.
Andar frowned down at the open ground they would have to cover on shear nerve.
"Well, Berret said we could call it off at any point should we think it too dangerous," he said aloud.
Malika nodded remembering the contingency plan. Should the plan be called off for any reason they were to wait inside the Wraith for Berret's return. Should the Shrike not return within a reasonable time or should they terminated the plan while in route to the location and/or met resistance, they were to fight their way back to the ship and command the AI to initiate a programmed escape vector. On command, the Wraith would blow open the carrier's hanger bay doors using a single missile. Backing it's way free of the bay; the ship would then next empty it's entire armament of missiles inside the bay causing a chain reaction explosion that would destroy the carrier and anyone left aboard it, along with the codes and hopefully the broadcast unit that would send the codes.
It had surprised the Delvian that the assassin would sacrifice himself for someone else. While she still didn't trust the Shrike it was beginning to appear there was more to him then she first believed.
Malika shook her head. "If the Shrike's willing to risk himself, I'll be damned to hezmana if I'm going to back out," she said stubbornly. "I'm still game for it if you are?" she told Andar in challenge.
Andar shook his head right along with her. "Well, someone with mature common sense has to be along to watch over you two crazy people. It might as well be me." The Delvian girl gave him a devilish smile as he said, "Let's go and do this."
The Sebacean man straightened and button up his commander's uniform while Malika scooped up their equipment bag. As soon as it landed the Wraith's stealth system shields extended to cover the bay from wall to wall and they had remained in that condition. The pair dropped out the rear troop deployment hatch and using the missile rack and one rear-landing skid to hide themselves from view, began their work.
Malika placed the sensors that would enable the Wraith's AI to disrupt and take over the carrier's alarm systems in that area so the bulkhead could be safely cut without setting off any warning alarms. At her signal, Andar lifted the somewhat bulky plasma torch and began cutting. One benefit of growing up on a backwater Sebacean colony was the man was use to doing hard manual labor. He quickly cut through the metal wall while Malika stood guard with his pulse rifle. When he was finished, Andar yanked on the magnetic handle that he had attached to that side of the freed plate and pulled it out of the wall. He pulled his pulse pistol from its holster and ducked his head and shoulder inside to see if anyone had observed the operation from the other side of the bulkhead, the area was clear. The man moved through the opening and signaled for Malika to pass the bag through to him. After she did, she repositioned the magnetic handle on the opposite side of the plate and stepped through the opening herself. Together they lifted the piece of bulkhead back into place. Andar held the piece up while Malika used strips of magnetic hull patches to anchor the hunk of metal in place, to the casual glance the wall would look whole on this side with the dim corridor light. By switching off the current in the patches, all they would then have to do is kick the plate back out of the wall to re-enter the hanger bay.
They hid the equipment they no longer needed. Malika gave Andar the pulse rifle back and he slung it off one shoulder as she started to lead the way through the dimly lit tunnel.
"Blast it! I feel naked without a weapon," commented the girl, "I wish I at least had my knife."
Andar paused for a microt and dug through one pocket.
"Here," He said a few more microts later as he handed her a small object.
"What the hezmana is this?" she asked as she inspected the item.
"It's a knife," said the man as if it should have been obvious to anyone who wasn't blind.
Malika found the small cut out designed to help a finger nail unfold the blade. The blade swung open and the girl stared at the finger of metal that was literally barely as long as her smallest finger.
"You call this a knife? What the yotz do you expect me to do with this? Clean my nails?" she asked in amazement.
"Well beggars can't be choosers. If you don't want it..." he said reaching for the knife.
"Never mind, it's better then nothing," she replied while pulling the small blade out of his reach.
She folded the blade back into the handle while muttering sarcastically, "At least I'm be able to slit my own throat if we're caught by the Peacekeepers, it'll save them the trouble."
She slid the knife under a leather strap and pulled Andar along behind as she started again on their journey deeper into the tunnel. "Keep up and try not to trip over anything," she said.
Scorpius gave Berret the run of the carrier for the next few arns... more or less, as he was accompanied by an armed guard/escort at all times. He was allowed to wander the unrestricted areas while the Command Carrier traveled to the commerce planet where they would get supplies. In their conversation, Scorpius had mentioned that Val'Cirrus was being held in a special cell at the opposite end of the ship from his private security room, which made sense to the Shrike as one wouldn't want to keep prisoners too close to sensitive areas of a war-ship. Other then removing his pulse pistol the Peacekeepers had not attempted to disarm him further, leaving him his gauntlets and other hidden weapons. Knowing that Scorpius wouldn't rely on a single PK grunt to be able to stop an armed Shrike, Berret knew he had to be under some other type of surveillance also, most likely a camera system was following his every move and keeping the half-Scarren informed of his activities and whereabouts. Wanting to keep Scorpius attention as far away as possible from his workroom so Malika and Andar would have their change to break into it, Berret chose to visit the Master Shrike at her cell; playing the part of the gloating adversary which is what Scorpius might have expected him to do.
The guarded guided him to the cellblock and Berret's hands began to sweat at the thought of seeing the female Shrike again. To Berret's surprise the cell was actually in the floor in this section of the huge Command Carrier. The ceiling of the cell was made of a clear substance allowing the occasional patrol of guards to look down inside the cell as they passed. The ceiling was at least three times the height of the woman trapped inside. Looking down into the room, Berret saw that the Shrike had been stripped of her armor and the boots with the deadly Bat'Rellite blades. The walls surrounding her had a dull yellow gleam to them that he realized had to be raw Qualta. That explained how the PK's got around the alloy tipped claws Val'Cirrus had. It surprised Berret that Scorpius had not simply ordered them ripped out. The fact that he was leaving the assassin locked-up but 'intact', told him the PK scientist had no attention of letting him go free even if he held up his end of the bargain. As soon as he would have handed Crichton over, Scorpius would have turned Val'Cirrus loose on him again.
Val'Cirrus glared up hatefully at Berret and let out an angry hiss. Dressed in a simple prisoner's uniform the female reptile looked almost harmless, except Berret knew that she was still very, very dangerous.
"You think you have won?" asked the Master Shrike venomously.
"I'm not the one in the cell," said Berret with a grin as he squatted down closer to the see-through floor.
Val'Cirrus raked a set of claws off one wall, sparks flared from the contact. "Scorpius betrayed the pact made with Arckatius," she rasped angrily. "After I escape from here and kill you, I'll come back and kill the frelling traitor."
Berret let out a laugh; "I don't believe Scorpius is the kind to leave that to chance. The only way you will ever leave this cell again is when they flush your dead body into space. I made a better deal with the half-breed. I win... you lose," he said tapping a finger on the clear floor for emphasis.
Val'Cirrus threw her head back and shrieked out a laugh of her own.
"Stupid, little Shrike," she spat. "Scorpius will betray you as quickly as he did the Syndicate." She looked at him and a sly toothy grin broke out across her scaly features. "Maybe if I wait long enough, Scorpius will throw you in here with me. Then I'll teach you your final lesson. We'll spend lots of time together before you die."
She leaned up against the wall as if having a causal chat with an old friend.
"Afterwards when I escape and take care of that vork, Scorpius, then I'll find your tralk Nebari bitch. Take her back to the Scarren Homeworld with me and save for special occasions. I'll only eat her a little bit at a time," Val'Cirrus hissed evilly.
Berret rose to his feet looking visibly shaken at Val'Cirrus' threats, a microt later his face twisted into a hateful glare.
"That will never happen, you depraved bitch!" cursed Berret. Shaking his fist at the assassin he said,
"I'll have Scorpius giving me your head on a Berillium serving tray part of the deal in exchange for Crichton. Enjoy your last days!"
Berret turned and stalked away from the cell so abruptly he almost knocked over the guard. Behind him, he could hear the hissing laughter of the Master Shrike in her cell. Berret hoped he put on a believable show; the uneasiness he felt wasn't hard to fake seeing the Master Shrike set him on edge to begin with.
That can be dealt with later, thought the ex-assassin. Right now it was time to create a much bigger diversion. Doing his best to still sound angry, he abruptly turned on his escort.
"Take me to the off-duty lounge," he ordered the trooper.
"Ouch!" said Andar aloud as he bumped his head against a low hanging pipe in the dim corridor.
"I told you to be careful," snapped Malika to the man following behind her.
"You told me not to trip over anything. I didn't... I banged my head," he told her.
"Well, don't do that either. Now be quiet... we're getting close to the access port."
The pair had traveled unobserved the entire length of the service tunnel and had made good time. A few more microns and the Delvian girl brought them to a stop beside an entrance access-way.
"Here it is," she announced in a whisper. She dug through her small pouch and produced a medical device used to listen to a patient's heartbeat and other internal sounds. She placed the earpiece to one blue ear and the sensor end against the doorway. She signaled for the Sebacean to remain silent as she listen for sounds on the other side of the hatch.
A few microts latter she whispered, "I don't hear anything."
Andar nodded and check that his uniform was settled correctly. "Now's as good a time as any," he said as the girl stepped back out of his way.
Andar spun the lock open and pulled the door slowly inward. He stuck his head out for a peek, half expecting someone to be waiting there on the other side to put a pulse bolt in it as soon as he did. When the bolt never came he stepped outside and looked in both directions.
"The coast is clear," he said and in a flash the Delvian girl was out in the main corridor by his side. They pulled the hatchway shut and re-secured it.
"Which way now?" asked Malika.
Andar looked up from the small tracking device to see that the usually confident girl was nervous with being out in the open.
"That way," he said as he pointed to their right. He placed the device in a pocket and taking the girl's left arm looped it through his right as if they were two lovers out for a stroll.
"Relax," he said in a low voice. "Its like Berret said... as long as we pretend nothing is wrong and that we belong here, nobody will give us a second glance. We're just another PK Officer and a pleasure slave looking for someplace private to go."
The Delvian girl swallowed hard and nodded slightly as she let the man lead her farther away from the relative safety of the maintenance tunnels.
They had gone only a little ways when they ran into their first test. A pair of off-duty grunts turned a corner ahead of them and came in their direction. Talking and joking loudly, it was obvious that the men had been drinking. Malika's arm went tense in Andar's as she saw the troopers heading their way, so Andar improvised on the fly to hide her nervousness. Before she could react he shoved the panicking girl into a corner made up of a bulkhead and a hull brace. He pushed himself up close to her and cut off her protests,
"Put your arms around me and look only at me... not matter what, your eyes stay solely on me," he ordered.
The girl nodded and wrapped her arms around the Sebacean man and buried her cheek against his shoulder.
"Not so tight!" gasped Andar and she forced her grip to loosen on the man.
Andar began to loudly whisper sweet nothings into the girl's ear as the pair of Peacekeepers approached the couple. Neither could see the two men but it was obvious they had stopped somewhere behind them as one said to his partner,
"Didya see that looker?"
"Aye, that was one fine tralk," slurred the other drunkenly.
"I've never seen that one before in the pool, I wonder when she got here?" the first one said.
One of them tapped Andar on the shoulder to get his attention,
"Say, mate? Doya' mind if we have a crack at her when you're finished?" the first voice asked.
Andar made a show of stiffening at the contacted. Prying Malika's arms from around him he slowly turned to glare at the two grunts. "Yes, I do mind very much," he said in a highly cultured voice that dripped venom.
Both men's jaws dropped as they read the rank insignia on Andar's collar.
"We beg your pardon, Flight Commander!" the first man stammered. "We didn't realize who you were.
We thought when we seen... that you were..." he started but couldn't decide how to finish without insulting the superior officer.
Andar lifted a single eyebrow and let the men stew for a few microts. He finally waved the pair off saying,
"I don't give a royal frell what you two nurfers thought. Just get out of my sight before I put you both on report."
"Yes, sir! Thank you, sir!" both men stammered as they moved to get out of Andar's vicinity.
Andar made as if to ignore the men as if they were not worth his notice. He held out a hand to Malika.
"Come, my dear. We shall find more suitable surrounding to continue our conversation," he said.
Malika joined him and fell in close to his side, her back to the departing men. Andar casually laid one hand over her swaying hip as they walked away.
When they thought the pair was out of earshot the first man turned to the second.
"That explains why we never saw that one before... she's been kept up in officer's country."
"Damn frelling officers! They always keep the best ones for themselves," complained the second man in answer.
Berret's escort led him to a noisy smoke filled lounge where a large number of the Peacekeepers off-duty congregated to relax, that is if you considered the chaos in the lounge relaxing. Here and there troopers drank, gambled, talked and joked loudly and in some instants fought. The Shrike pushed his way to the bar, some of the soldiers drunkenly ignored him while some of the more sober ones stepped out his way after realizing what the cloak and armor meant, the stares he received ranged from the uneasy to the outright hateful. Letting him do the work of forcing a way through the crowd, his escort followed behind Berret. The Shrike made it to the metal counter that served as a bar and had to reach over a seated Peacekeeper grunt with a bandage crossing over one eye to attract the attention of the barkeep. The gunmetal colored gauntlet on Berret's arm caught the low light over the bar and the glyphs and icons imbedded in the metal shone like Delvian Fire Runes. The seated man glanced up with his one good eye and then shot out of his seat as if somebody had shocked him with a stun baton. The good eye grew large with mindless fear and the man started backing away from Berret, all the while making a wordless animal-like cry. He backpedaled away from the Shrike until he tripped over some unseen object and toppled over a table. Before the occupants of the table could voice a protest, the man jumped back to his feet and continued his hasty backwards retreat, all the while keeping Berret in sight and sounding his wordless never-ending cry. Almost tripping and knocking several other patrons out of his way the man made it to the doorway and ran down the corridor away from the lounge, followed by the mocking laughter and hoots of the other Peacekeepers witnessing the clumsy display.
Berret looked as his guard and asked, "What the frell was that about?"
The PK grunt snickered, "That's old Asmanz. He had a run in with that female Shrike. It seems he got resleked up and decide to have some sport with the old girl one night when she was in here. She didn't take too kindly to it and removed his eye for him with one of those claws. Ate it right in front of him. I guess she was planning on eating the rest him but Scorpius put a stop to that just as she was describing how she planned to serve him up."
Berret forced himself to suppress a shutter at the thought of the Master Shrike but the guard seemed to catch it.
"I guess Asmanz had enough of you Shrike's for one lifetime... I bet he was thinking you were going to eat him too," he finished with a sadistic grin. Berret took the now vacant seat before answering the man.
"I don't eat my prey," he told the Peacekeeper as he raised up one armored arm and willed a single blade to slowly appear from the gauntlet and spear a nearby salt-covered snack food that John said reminded him of a big pretzel, whatever that was. He lifted the pulse-pistol size bake-good so it was eyelevel with himself and the guard. "I personally prefer to take 'other' trophies." The blade snapped back into it housing, startling the guard with its speed. In a blur, the blades on the Shrike's other arm shot out and slashed upward. The metallic snap of them closing again cut through the noisy room. The hunk of food seemed to hover by itself for a microt and then fell in two pieces straight into Berret's waiting hand. The Sebacean swallowed visibly as he realized that the Shrike performed the act without taking his eyes from his own. He then realized how quickly and easily he could die if the assassin wished for him too. With a smile, Berret offered the guard one half of the hunk of salted bake-good.
"I understand... sir," the escort said while refusing the Shrike's offer. Berret shrugged then tore off a hunk of the snack food and began to eat. The barkeep had wandered over and caught the last part of the show and Berret thought he was about to comment about there being a 'no weapons' rule in the lounge but the armed guard waved the protest off saying that the Shrike was a guest of Scorpius'. Berret turned his attention to the man standing behind the bar.
"Reslek... strong and now!" he demanded in a louder then necessary voice.
Berret hated Raslek, he had no idea how Chiana and the others could drink the stuff. Still it was one of the more potent drinks and something that the microbes could easily handled and filter from his system, something to do with it being grain based, unlike that wine Chiana and he had gotten drunk on a while ago. The ex-assassin noticed one of Scorpius' toadies watching him from one corner trying to be discreet so he forced himself to have several more of the dreadful drinks. At least the salty snack foods helped kill the taste he thought to himself. Berret casually surveyed the room every few microns and soon he found what he needed for the next phase of the plan. At a nearby table was one of the biggest Sebacean men he'd ever seen. By the scars on the man's face he had to have been a fearsome fighter... or at least he was by the stories he was sharing with his circle of friends. The big man eventually got up from the table to buy a around of drinks for his comrades and came over to the bar to stand close by where Berret was sitting.
Time to put part two into effect silently thought the Shrike, time for another distraction.
"Did I hear you say you were at the battle of Galron Seven?" asked the Shrike in a slightly slurred tone to the Peacekeeper who was waiting for his drinks.
"Yes, my entire regiment fought there," replied the trooper. "It was a hezmana of a fight too. Those Tresh Regulars where dug in but we went in and kick some major eema," he continued proudly.
Berret let out a choked laugh as he spat out half his drink and then pounded his hand on the bar top as if he found the Sebacean's statement to be the funniest thing he'd ever heard.
"Why are you laughing for?" asked the soldier confused.
Berret let his laughter die off into snickers before answering the man.
"The Tresh had a Shrike advisor, and he reported back that the Peacekeepers who landed on Galron couldn't find their eemas with both hands in broad daylight. Not only where they inept, but when it came to hand to hand fighting the Peacekeepers turned tail and ran away..." Berret let out another deep belly laugh and slapped the man on the shoulder.
"That is an outright lie!" bellowed the big man.
"The advisor went on to compare the Peacekeepers screaming as to that of teenage Hynerian females at a Luxan horror vid-show."
Berret looked oblivious to the man's anger or the crowd they were drawing as he went on.
"Come now, big man... show us all the Hynerian war-cry you made famous on Galron Seven. I'll wager that you can reach a pitch that will break glass," Berret said holding up his empty Raslek tumbler.
The Peacekeeper smashed the glass from Berret's hand and stood glaring and panting hard in front of him. He glanced at the armed escort who looked at a loss as to what to do. Turning back to the Shrike he said,
"If you were not a guest of Scorpius' Shrike coward, I would..." the Peacekeeper started to growl out.
"Do what?" snapped Berret back at the man, his good mood seemingly gone and replaced with his own anger. "Teach me a lesson? Show me what a brave warrior you are? Peacekeeper dolt."
Berret gave him a smile that didn't touch his ice blue eyes, "Without your pulse guns, you Peacekeepers are nothing but spineless cowards."
The man looked like he was about to lose his mind when one of his companions spoke up from their table.
"Big talk from a man with knives strapped to his forearms. Sergeant Pikes is unarmed," said the female PK.
"A very good point," said Scorpius' lieutenant as he pushed his way to the front of the group.
The Peacekeepers, including Berret's new large 'friend', came to attention as the man appeared in their mist. "At ease," he said to those around him. "The 'no-rank' rule inside this establishment applies here to everyone," he said to the crowd. Turning back to Berret, he added, "That includes you also, Shrike. That is unless you were planning on hiding under Scorpius' protection. In that case, please go on belittling the sergeant here and he will take it like a good Peacekeeper should, and follow his orders not to harm you." He looked around at the huge man and the crowd to see if they were listening closely before going back to the Shrike. "Or... you can follow the same rules as everyone else and back your hypothesis up while allowing the good sergeant a chance to defend his and his unit's honor."
The lieutenant folded his hands in front of him and waited for Berret's reply with a smile. The crowd was silent as they waited for him to respond and Berret scanned the surrounding faces, many of them angry.
"I don't need that Scarren half-breed's protection," he said with an evil grin. "Let's see what you got?" he told the big man.
The crowd cheered as the huge sergeant took off his uniform shirt, the man was much bigger then Berret originally thought. The lieutenant had decreed that the contest would be empty-hand and would continue until either only one man was standing or the other surrendered. Berret walked back over to the bar and held his forearms over the counter-top. With a sharp click both gauntlets released their hold on his forearms and fell to the bar's shiny surface. Before the watching patron's eyes the two pieces resealed themselves into single units again without the Shrike touching them.
Berret turned to those closest and said mischievously, "Don't touch! They bite."
They seemed inclined to believe him as while he stripped the rest of his armor off they cleared a circle around that section of the bar where the gauntlets lay.
The rest of the crowd cleared the tables and chairs from a large space in the middle of the lounge and the sergeant was already standing in the middle waiting for Berret. His escort caught his attention as he finished removing armor plates.
"Sir, the sergeant has never been beaten in unarmed matches. He's one of the fleets highest ranking champions," he told the Shrike.
"There's a first time for everything," replied Berret.
"No disrespect, 'sir'... but I hope the sergeant kicks your eema from one end of the carrier to the other. There was no call for what you said to him."
"There's a first time for that too," said Berret with a reckless grin as he stepped into the center of the makeshift ring to face the big man.