A NEW BEGINNING
Chapter Ten
"Jak's New Interest"
14:31 - Planet Snivelak, Thug HQ, Bogon Galaxy
Half an hour later, as Natasha had promised, Vukar stepped into the lounge area where guests--or hopefuls--would normally reside during the waiting period of processing. Tucked beneath one of his arms was the girl's forgotten helmet and with the other he gripped forms, paperwork the captain had prepared. He found the weary Maktar champion at a table with her head down, her face buried hidden in the middle of her folded arms. Her body leaned haphazardly to one side of the lounge chair, suggesting that she was probably asleep, too, so he approached at a quieter stride. He stopped beside her, and with the forms he tapped her shoulder to rouse her.
"Dark. Dark? Hey, yar asleep?" he said, nudging her until her head rose a few inches from her arms.
He cocked an eyebrow when he saw a thin tendril of spittle connecting from the tips of her lips to the wooden table surface. Angela stretched her arms and yawned deeply, hearing a few bones in her body crack. She finally wiped her mouth on the back of his gloved hand in a lazy manner, and then felt a little embarrassed about drooling.
Her eyes were a little inflamed. "Huh? Whaa? Is it time already?"
"Vukar will show you yar room. Come," he helped her to her feet, then pressed her a helmet to her chest. "This is yar's, right? Vukar found it in the conference room."
In a groggy voice, "Thanks, Vukar. I'm much obliged."
She rose to her feet with a little numbness in her legs while pushing back the chair behind her with a screech, and followed him once again. While walking down the halls, he would periodically check behind him to make sure she wasn't straggling along. In minutes, they reached her designated quarters. With a special keycard, he quickly dropped it into the reader, and then yanked it out. The card reader chimed, followed by the sound of a lock mechanism being released, and then he pushed the door open. He moved to the side of the doorway and showed her to her new room.
"This is it," he said. "Is thar anything else yar need?"
Angela looked around the room with weary, burning eyes, noticing that there was a small bed, a night stand beside it, a miniature refrigerator off in a corner of the small room; a bathroom across the foot of the bed, and a single closet just before the bathroom, off to the left.
"It doesn't look like it. I just need--" she yawned again, "...some sleep, then I'll be back to normal. Maybe."
Vukar simply nodded. "Oh, befar I forget, here are some papers yur need to fill out. Captain says she will need them back befar dust off."
He stepped inside the room, walked over the night stand, and placed the papers and keycard down. Afterward, he stepped out as swiftly as he had come in, the door closing behind him. Angela used the time to herself to get acquainted with her room.
"Hm, not too shabby. Not like home, but it looks--comfortable."
She tossed her helmet on the bed before picking up the forms on the night stand. She flipped through them, reading what the captain had put down. There were some other questions that needed to be answered on many of them. She searched for a writing utensil, realizing she hadn't one, but nonetheless found one as it fell from in between the pages. Picking up the pen from the floor, she moved to sit down on the bed comfortably and begin filling out the rest of the missing information--about herself.
Midway through the forms, a buzzing sound other than the refrigerator she hadn't paid much attention to before took her mind off the paperwork. She looked across the room, above the refrigerator, and saw a digital clock. In large, lime digits, it was already fifteen hundred--five hours away before the next mission. Using this as just the impetus she needed to quickly finish the forms, her hand scribbled quickly over the papers, then signed her signature at the end. She placed the forms back on top of the night stand, sliding the pen back between the pages.
She collapsed on the bed, beginning to wonder why it had been so quiet all while. Staring off at the ceiling, her eyes motioning over to a small, rectangular window several feet above her, she rose and clutched the window blind that concealed the outside world. For awhile, she believed she would get used to hearing the thug military life, but she couldn't hear a single thing. Just where did the captain assign her?
"Surprise me, Natasha," she whispered, hesitant to lift up the window blind.
Behind the glass was a solid, red brick block.
She began laughing hysterically. "Yup! I just knew it," she lowered the blinds. "Oh well, I better get some sleep. Lights off."
The lights in the room remained on.
"Oh...right, I'm not home, Angela," she expelled a long sigh, running a hand down her face.
Then she got up again; looking for the light switch. She found it by the door, but came to realize that sleeping in her Tuferalox armor would be too confined, unnatural. She removed it, piece by piece, placing the items on an empty shelf in the closet. Garbed only in her underclothes, the only clothing she remembered putting on at the last minute back home, she returned to the door and flipped the switch, believing at the last moment that no one would just come barging into her room at night.
In darkness, she made it back onto the bed, laying outstretched and exhausted. By the time her eyes adjusted to the dim light, something else began to bother her.
Green writing, possibly done by an luminescent marker, covered the walls around her, in areas where other soldiers had written their names, their year of service, and other graffiti. She rowed her eyes, turned over, and tried to go to sleep.
"Thugs," was one of the last thoughts that came to her as she drifted to sleep.
Angela later awoke to the sound of someone flipping through the paperwork she had filled out hours ago. Startled by the intruder, she quickly turned over and curled her hands into fists. When she saw who it was, she eased and breathed. It was Natasha. She stood at the side of the bed, looking down at her and raising an eye ridge out of curiosity, smiling at the pretense that the taller girl would actually do something. She finally sat down beside her, touching her knee to calm her further.
"So you work for Abercrombie, eh? A geneticist? Sounds useful, resourceful. We could use that field of expertise in the lab," Natasha greeted as amiable as she had been before.
Angela rubbed her forehead, staring at the clock across the room. "Do you always sneak up on the others, too, while they're sleeping?"
Without so much as a repentant look, Natasha responded with, "Only for the new recruits. I do it once, or twice, or thrice. So you better to get into a habit of setting your alarm clock. Otherwise, I'll wake you via microphone, and that's just embarrassing."
"I bet," Cross bellowed briefly.
Holding up the completed paperwork, "Thanks for finishing this, I couldn't have done it myself."--standing again--"What have you eaten since your last mission? Anything at all?" said the shabox, flipping the forms in order.
Angela yawned, "Just that uh...Nanobar...Stravek gave me. He claimed it was a stimulant, but I don't think it worked at all. I was still tired after eating it."
"Ah, but it does. You'll see when you're off to Siberius. It'll heighten your senses. It's common to see a few soldiers eat such things before a mission. Anyway, prep for take off in twenty, but meet with Jak boy first in the armory. As for your breakfast--it'll be abroad the drop ship. It's a scrumptious--surprise," the captain reassured with a wink. Angela didn't like the way she said it.
"Okayy," said Angela, giving a weird look. "What about my space fighter? I had it docked fairly far from the base."
"That was yours? Opps! It's probably been impounded. I'll have our people release it should you ever need it."
A little while later, in the weapons storage room, a separate building from the main armory of the thug army, Jak was already pulling down the gun racks. Various Gadgetron and Megacorp weapons were neatly locked into their respective places, according to smallest and weakest to largest and strongest arsenal. This arrangement was a personal preference that Jak established a while ago when he was given the title of weapon specialist. It was his duty to make sure all weapons were in perfect working order before every mission, and nothing less than perfect.
The Jobian lizard looked over his shoulder as Angela entered and greeted her, continuing with his selection of weapon for the upcoming mission. He had trouble deciding on which of the many sniper rifles to use.
"G'marning, Dark," he said, "Did yar rest well?"
He selected a weapon that looked familiar to her.
"Sort of, but Natasha scared me to death this morning by sneaking into my quarters and waking me up," she explained, making her way past a long table cluttered with many different firearms. Then she looked at the weapon that he had selected, watching how he ejected the cartridge from its bottom and pulled back its pin with expertise. She had a feeling that he would take great pleasure in disassembling and discussing any weapon if asked of him. Instead, she remained quiet, watching his hands work. Such busy hands.
"Rar-rar. She did the same to me. I like the boss. She is so crool."
Angela's ears perked up at the first sign of truth about the captain. "Uh? Cruel? Tell me...how did your CQC go?"
At the remembrance of that day, Jak paused amid his weapon check, thinking about the old days of his training.
"Ohh..." he began, "she took me by surprise. I nevar expected her to be so good. Too good...in...everythang. Rar, that first day was awful. I nevar been hit so many times in my life."
The sound of his first day of CQC sounded worse than hers, and for this she felt glad--rueful too--that she had gotten it easier than him.
"Did she ever slap you by any chance?" she asked, looking contrite for asking.
"Oh yar--slapped, punched, kicked, bit--" he was interrupted by the sound of another member of the team entering the room.
"Rarr!" greeted Vukar, slamming a fist against his chest armor.
Jak returned a similar, if not identical, salute. He then turned his attention back to Dark, seeing that she was mildly interested in the weapon in his hands.
"This har is the Vaporizer. It shoots high calibar, explosive rounds, capable of penetrating most armars. When it hits its target, the bullet explodes, creating a small blast radius. I chose this because it has mar favorite scope; and it will keep yar safe from harm as long as it's in my claws."
"Gee, thanks, Jak. I feel safe already!" she grinned.
"Don't mention it. Yar life will be in my claws once we are out thar. Every Manhunter looks out for one another."
Vukar whistled to signal Jak. "Hey? Which of these Gadgetron weapons should Vukar take while guarding his tower?"
Jak eyes searched over the table of weapons and glowed when he picked one out. With a clawed finger, he pointed at one. "That one--the Bomb Glove. Vukar, yar not much of a sharpshootar like me, but at least you can throw bombs at the bastards."
"Easy enough for Vukar, so he will use it!" Vukar shouted, reaching down and checking out the glove before sliding it over his right hand. "Vukar wishes we war to go on more jobs that involve swords."
Jak slapped a clip into his Vaporizer, pulling back the pin and sliding a round into its chamber. "Yes, I know how good yar are with that machete. Don't worry, yar will get the chance to make mince meat of somebody soon."
The Jobian lizard looked down at Dark, admiring her commando suit and, in unison, trying to figure out where her weapons were. He slid a shoulder strap through the slots of his sniper rifle, and then slung it over his shoulder.
His eyes beamed. "Where are yar weapens?" he asked, lowering his long neck in search for them on her body.
Angela brought up an arm and pressed a hidden button at the sleeve of her gloved hand, where a small electronic device attached to the bottom of the forearm of the suit, and at a place where her fingers could easily reach a switch, she pressed it. Suddenly, a blade projectile slid into the palm of her hand. She held up the weapon.
"This is my Star Blade, a projectile weapon that starts off as a blade, but on impact it will burst into deadly stars with five notched edges. And this,"--she pointed to a small metallic hilt clipped into a scabbard on her right thigh--"is my Plasma Sword. It practically cuts through or burns most things. I still need to enhance it, and then it'll be something fierce."
Jak, bemused and bewitched by such advanced technology, couldn't suppress a malevolent smile. He endeavored to reach for something, anything, and snatched the star blade from her.
"This is...beautiful," he whispered with a strange hiss. "Wherever did yar get this?"
Angela stepped back in an exaggerated manner, holding her hands up. "I made it, but you can have that one." A short laugh followed.
"Oh, I will. I will study it. Maybe we will sit down together sometime and create something new?" he proposed with a friendly smile, waving the star blade in his hand.
Angela peeked at Vukar, who shrugged in return and went back to fiddling with his bomb glove.
"Uh, sure, I guess. I'm sure two minds together can invent new weapons faster than one can, right?"
"Yes, yes..." he said as a small explosion erupted from the other side of the room.
Jak ignored the smoke and debris that flushed over him and Dark. In response, Dark ran over to see what had happened. Vukar lied on his back, rubbing his head and looking at the bomb glove he thought wouldn't be too useful--until now. She helped him to his feet and dusted off his shoulder.
"Vukar! Are you okay? You must be out of your damn mind to actually use a bomb in this room. What'd you think would happen if you activated one and it just sat in your hand?" she nearly yelled at him, shaking him softly by his shoulders.
Vukar was in hysterics, fearing the weapon on his hand. He burst with insane laughter.
"Vukar had to get rid of it somewhere!"--he motioned to shout at Jak--"Yar right! This weapen is good for Vukar."
Angela slapped her forehead at the silliness.
Abruptly, a new announcement rang through the halls. The voice belonged to Natasha, giving another update. "Manhunters, report to Evac. Your drop ship awaits."
Jak snapped out of his reverie and headed for the door, holding it open for the other two. "C'mon, that's us. Time to bag our thief."
At the massive heliport, a new drop ship welcomed the trio. Piloted by Sandz, he pointed to something new, at the back of the ship; a drone bot that manned a powerful gauss cannon. The others gaped. They continued toward the aircraft. All around them, other members of the thug organization, all differing in squads, observed the privileged bunch, some folding their arms in envy while others were curious as to know where they were going.
Dark climbed aboard, followed by Jak, then Vukar. Inside, she and Jak decided to sit beside each other, while Vukar went into the cockpit of the drop ship. Sandz rose from the pilot's seat and returned it to its rightful owner, and then stepped into the back where he decided to sit down beside the ship's sliding door, adjacent from the robot. He buckled his safety seat.
Dark nodded at the drone. "Sandz? What's that doing on board?"
Sandz laughed, slapping his thigh. "Don't you recognize it, it's XL-17. He's undergone some modification from a spared Extermibot that another team of the army picked up at Damosel some weeks back. He's been reprogrammed to ride shotgun, serving as the ship's gunner. Armed with the gauss cannon, he'll make short work of anything--and I mean anything--that dares to attack our only means of transportation back home."
XL-17 sported a black and gray chassis that seemed to glow in the setting sun. His robotic legs were short and small; his feet, big, protected by a chrome of silver plating and strapped down to the floor board; his large, metallic hands looked like he wore a pair of metal gloves; but his head, however, went through a considerable change, and now was shaped like a parabola with small, circular green eyes, and atop his head he had two stubby, protruding antennae with tips that flashed a red light that displayed his mode.
The defense unit remained standing with his hands gripped firmly around the rests of the laser cannon.
With a slight mechanically noisy turn of its head and confirmed, "Affirmative. Defense unit, XL-17, Manhunter drop ship gunner," and then it turned its head back around, looking ahead and followed the movements of personnel shuffling about the heliport.
Vukar's voice suddenly came over the speakers in the back of the ship. "Vukar says put on yar belts, kiddies, shut up, and prepar for dust off. We'ar heading to Siberius."
Dark and Jak clicked in their safety belts as the floor beneath XL-17 began to slide inward, bringing the unit inside the ship. Once it was in fully, Sandz slammed the side door closed, locking it into place with a turn and press of a lever.
"What will you be doing once we reach Siberius?" asked Dark, tapping nosily on her helmet with her fingers.
"Who? Me? I'm just along for the ride," Sandz admitted. "And before I forget, here are your breakfasts."
He reached behind him, into a small compartment, and grabbed a couple of tubes. Tossing them over, Jak caught his in his mouth, while the other fell onto Dark's lap. She picked up the strange looking tube and squeezed it, being certain it was full of paste or something like it. She wondered if the byproduct had a good taste or not, but turning to Jak answered her question.
The Jobian twisted off the cap of his, reared his head back, and squeezed the contents down his throat greedily. It didn't look like he cared to chew it, nor swish it around in his mouth to enjoy the taste--he was just hungry. She looked back at Sandz, the trooper encouraging her to give it a try with a nod. All of a sudden, the drop ship vibrated as its engines came to life with a roar, humming deeply.
Dark twisted off the cap of her "breakfast" while looking out the window of the ship, watching how the headquarters, the soldiers outside and around it, as well as the other ships in the air, grew smaller. By the sudden rock that sent her back against the boarding of the ship's seat, she knew they were making their ascent toward space. The ship began to rattle as it forced itself through the atmosphere of Snivelak. During this time, she placed the tube to her lips, and caught a glimpse of Jak from the corner of her eyes, watching her.
"Try it, Dark. It's good," he said.
His hand reached over and gripped the tube for her, squeezing it. "Let me help yar,"--he squeezed the contents into her mouth--onto her face too--"Good, no? Opps!"
Dark made a look of disgust as the fur on her face became a mess with the paste. She turned to the Jobian and punched him in the shoulder as hard as she could while being restrained by her safety belt.
She screamed, "JAKKK!"
The drop ship made it into the dark vacuums of Bogon space, en route to Siberius, but judging by all the shouting going on inside the big ship, one would believe they were, instead, actually going to turn back and drop off a nuisance.