Chapter XII
One principle of warfare is if you're short on everything except the enemy, you're in combat. I had no option at that point, other than to take evasive action. Ducking for cover behind an armored panel of the gangplank, I scanned the tactical situation. It wasn't good. The door behind me was wide open, and so was the gastight compartment beyond it. Another squad or two could easily come charging through the corridor and cut me down so there wouldn't be a thimbleful of me left. I had no chance slugging it out with the troops on the docks, so I donated a flechette grenade and ducked inside, slamming the door shut as the rain of metal impaled many bodies.
The corridor I found myself in was the one leading toward Main Engineering. I did a security sweep via the internal radar in my wrist monitor, and found that there were four squads converging on my position. The twenty guys on their way are not coming for tea and crumpets, I guessed. I figured that I had about five minutes, so I made for the Chief Engineer's office, which was right outside the main reactor and down the hall from the Omni-Directional Barrier chamber, where the main defensive barrier was generated in our battle with Dolza. There would be a computer terminal there, which could enable me to locate Lisa, the other prisoners, and the plague.
The room had always been cavernous, and the stealth my mission required magnified every nerve in my body to abnormal heights. I never knew how many engineers ever worked down there, so I was always a little afraid that one would jump out from behind a pylon and shock me. As a kid, I'd always been slightly afraid of large, darkened areas, so it seemed natural that it would carry over into my adulthood. Now, I really had to clamp down on my fears, because the slightest light would give me away.
The office was separated from the rest of the room by a metal ladder, the kind usually found on a child's playground, complete with emergency fire pole. It was kind of strange, all the modern technology on the base, and yet, we still used some of the same equipment we used before the SDF-1 revealed itself to us.
The shadows played to my advantage, especially when I heard booted feet rushing by the corridor. I ducked behind an engine plate as they looked into the room. Bright flashlights rebounded off the far walls, curving towards infinity in the unlit darkness. Radio buzzes signaled their departure from the engine room, and I let out a breath I didn't realize I had been holding.
The terminal was on, and the unknown user had still been logged in. I did a scan of the interior compartments, seeking the integrity of the hull in various locations. Maybe, by luck, the prison compartments would be reinforced against escape attempts and would appear abnormal on an integrity scan.
The computer told me it would take approximately five minutes to do a complete scan. I opened another window that showed the personnel jackets of all the RDF personnel. Someone wanted to take a look at Lisa's, in particular…This doesn't look good; it appears that they are looking for her weak points…
I glanced over her file, and was amazed at what I read. It recounted her injuries from the beginning of her service in the RDF. Apparently, she was in the Research and Development division straight out of the academy, and was among the redesign crew for the SDF-1. She, under the tutelage of Dr Lang and the rest of the team, helped to design the shielding and reflex weaponry on board the vessel, after finding a way to adapt the technology to human standards. Apparently, the first time they fired up the test generator, there was an imbalance in one of the chambers, leading to a forced evacuation of the compartment. Lisa, even though she was only a newly commissioned Ensign, took charge of evacuating the wounded and getting everyone out of the room, and was, herself the last to leave. Just as she went through the door, the generator blew up, and she took a load of shrapnel in her backside. For her actions, she received her first Purple Heart, as well as her first Bronze Star. She was credited with saving Dr Lang's life, as well as the life of the rest of the research team, though doing so caused her severe muscle damage and blood loss.
Her recovery was prolonged and extensive, and some muscles never healed properly, along with the extremely small crack at the base of her spine. In bad weather, it would cause her pain, but it was impossible to operate on, for fears of complicating matters and immobilizing her. The person who had opened this screen that day was looking for information like that. There were notes at the end of the file listing certain pressure points and medicines she was vulnerable to, along with recommendations on how to apply them.
The scanner gave a muted beep, signaling it was finished with the scan. The results were a mixed blessing; the prison was located in what had been the secondary shuttlecraft-docking bay, and, as such, had no extra shielding or energy barriers, but the easy access points worried me. Granted, the lack of defensible points worked to my advantage when assaulting the prison, but they were a liability when I could release the prisoners, especially because I'd have to get them through an open field of fire towards the primary shuttlecraft hanger.
The guards were stationed in groups of two, pairing off every two hours, with comm checks every half hour and full-squad sweeps of the complex every fifteen minutes. The guards were dressed in triple-thick armored vests, strong enough to withstand a flechette grenade up close and personal. They were armed with Beryl 96 rifles, a Polish rifle system that fired a standard NATO 5.56mm round but was modular and rugged like the AK-47 series of weapons. It could hold thirty rounds, and the thought of sixty full-metal jacketed projectiles hurling in my general direction was discomforting, to say the least. Not to mention the MOG's they carried, which put them on the same playing field as me. How could I divert their attention and rescue my comrades? More importantly, how could I do that and still recover the plague?
I decided that stealth and luck were my only allies, since my hacking skills could be outclassed by a fourth-grader with a head cold. My only chance when I got to the shuttle deck would be to create a diversion of some kind and escape with my friends in the confusion. The hangar was only two floors above me, and with the right amount of luck, I could just make it in time…
Then a lone flashlight shone in the darkness, filling the office with blinding illumination. "Who's there?" came a voice. Then came a single gunshot…
AN: The weapons of which I write are either real prototypes (Like the FMG and the Beryl), or complete figments of my imagination (like the MOG). As I said, I like trying to keep it as realistic as possible. That, and it allows me to use my imagination in conjunction with my interests. Everyone; keep posting your stories! They give me inspiration, and, in turn, make my stories more interesting to you. Kind of self-replicating, isn't it? {grins} But very true. And, yes, to gain self inspiration, I am basing my interpretation of Rick's desires for Lisa on my own emotions concerning someone I know…(yes, yes, I wear my heart on my sleeve), so if it seems a little odd, some of the things that happen, take that into consideration. As always, review and critique.