Imminent Destruction

“Don’t shoot, I’m friendly,” Destiny said before entering.

Perspiration soaked her uniform. Fade grimaced as he folded his arms, and Destiny’s face went pale when she saw his wound.

“You’re hurt!” she said, “It looks serious.”

“Leave it alone! I’ll have to manage.”

Destiny collected herself, opened the gun closet, and pulled out a laser rifle. The indicator light gauge extended to full power as she readied it.

“That’s good, because I never succeeded in first aid,” she said, “I’ll help you catch them. You can’t do it alone, and I won’t let you.”

Fade put his gun back in the holster and his arms on her shoulders, shaking her back and forth until her head bobbed up and down.

“Don’t you understand the trouble you’re causing!?”

“Stop- shaking- my- he-he-head- please!”

When he finally stopped, she hobbled into him, breathing on his chest; still, she held her weapon with both hands, keeping the barrel pointed towards the ceiling.

“Now I’m dizzy,” she said.

Fade lifted her by the stomach, sat her down and attempted to take the rifle. Her grasp was too strong for his injured arm, which felt like it was going to come apart when he pulled, so he slid his finger up the side of the barrel before giving up.

“Give it up,” Fade said.

She refused, scrunching her face at him.

“Fine, keep it. I could care less. Stay here with Bert and Miss Howards, where it’s safe.”

Bert grumbled, “Great, why should I get stuck with the babysittin’ job? She’s a sergeant now, let her guard Miss Horror. I should be helpin’ you, with your injury and all.”

“Protect them, no funny business,” Fade said, “If Sergeant Payson tries to leave, you have my permission to use force.”

Bert looked a little wary of Fade’s instructions.

“Don’t worry about her,” Fade said, “She won’t shoot you.”

“Oh, yes I will.”

“Not with a gun lacking charge.”

She looked at the rifle’s indicator bulb.

“You dirty bastard, you discharged my rifle! How?” she yelled, but Fade was gone.

“Well, well, well. You seem more concerned about getting battle time then you do about Fade’s safety,” Bert said, sitting in the captain’s chair and using his own seat to prop his legs. He pointed his freshly charged laser rifle at Destiny. “Looks like I get to sit with the ladies. Boy O’ boy!”

Destiny threw the useless rifle, made two fists, and crossed her arms. Karen sat on her chair with her head between her legs, sobbing faintly. Destiny checked Karen’s abdomen.

“Hey Lieutenant, I think she was hurt down here. Take a look at this wound.”

“I’m fine,” Karen sobbed. “I haven’t even been scratched.”

“Yes you have, and trying to hide it like that will only make it worse.”

The ruffled blonde shifted away from her.

“Let me see. If she’s hurt, I better get some first aid,” Bert knelt, forgetting his weapon as Destiny shuffled her way behind them. Karen lifted her arms to show him she had not been wounded.

“You might have been injured around the chest. I better open your blouse and take a closer look.”

Both his cheeks met the forceful slap of her open hand, leaving him with sore red imprints.

“Worth a try,” Bert muttered with a smile.

“Well, I hope you feel gratified, you- you goon,” Karen said, “and I hope you know that the little brunette escaped with your rifle while you were occupied.”

Bert looked around the control room, no Destiny. The rifle by his chair was also gone, left behind was the drained rifle she had thrown aside. He turned around and banged his head against the control panel. Karen stood, wiped the moisture from her eyes as she smirked, and folded her arms under her chest. She paced back and forth while shivering in the dry heat.

-----

The hatch of the maintenance compartment was jammed half open. A system bypass card stuck in the panel’s key slot caused the screen to display random security code. Ace stood by the hatch, gun ready.

“I didn’t expect to see you here,” Fade said.

"I don’t like induced sleep, so I don’t take the drugs,” Ace said, “I was awake when Bert contacted Lieutenant Soel, so I’d thought I’d have at it, as the old Slemgut would say.”

They entered the maintenance hall separately, for the hatch plates only opened a half meter wide. There were gaping square holes in the wall where panels had been removed and never replaced. Some still laid on the floor or sat in the drainage gullies. The pipes of the water and fuel systems were laced with limp Hydraulic fusion lines, which leaked a pale dirty fluid. The lights illuminated portions of the ceiling and the walls, but so dimly that the floors seemed to creep with an undisturbed shadow.

“Stay where you are,” Fade said, “I’m going to check the storage compartment.”

The panel labeled “Storage 2” sparked as he entered the code. The electronics were recently damaged; it had to be opened manually. A rusty wheel hid behind a nearby panel, but it required much strength to turn as the hatch opened only a centimeter with each full turn. By the time it was half open, Fade’s right arm went numb and electric pain stirred in his shoulder. The muscles in his upper arm tingled as his underarm became moist with fresh blood that soaked through Bert’s shirt sleeve bandage.

Fade pulled a small yellow ball from a compartment inside his trench coat, squeezed it, and threw it inside the storage compartment. A yellowish gas streamed outward, but no sound besides the hissing of the gas. The bandage needed tightened so he huddled in a corner. His right hand was so numb he couldn’t make a fist. Ace went to investigate the room, but Fade stopped him, assuring him no one was inside. He picked up his communicator as Ace checked around the corner.

“Bert, monitor the ship. Have Horace engage the security sensors.”

“Done already,” Bert said, rubbing a swelling and darkening eye socket.

“I need you to get a fix on this guy’s location,” Fade said, “I don’t think I can continue this manhunt much longer.”

“I can’t get a fix on his location because he keeps disabling Horace’s security sensors. He’s also destroyin’ the cameras. All I know is that he’s not in waste management or the main engine maintenance area, yet. Horace still has a picture in those areas.”

“Great, that really helps,” Fade said, “If you can’t fix it, see if Destiny can.”

“Oh, ya, by the way, Kitten. She’s...”

“What about her?” Fade snapped.

“Well, she scaped with my rifle.”

“She what! Never mind, back to work. See if you can’t get some help from our military friends, but don’t beg.”

“I just lost two cameras in engine maintenance,” Bert said.

“So, he’s in there,” Ace said before running toward the engine maintenance hatch. Fade followed and soon took the lead, as he was more familiar with the ship.

The open repair hatch revealed the wide halls inside. A huge fusion-liquid pipe lined the left side, glowing blue liquid seen flowing in the clear windows on the pipe itself bubbled. On the right, machinery alternated between huge pistons and electron generators that charged the batteries. The pistons, even within their crystal chambers, were incredibly noisy, clanging against one another to create a massive, atom-crunching, shock-wave buffered by a protective energy field. Moisture hung in the air, condensation had pasted droplet patterns on every flat surface, on steel or iron rust marks grew. The pale lights and the purplish hues that sprung from the outer mesh of the electron generators illuminated airborne dust.

The combined hiss and grind of the pistons, the whir of recycling systems, and sizzles of the electron containers made for a melancholy screech. Fade tripped over a small magnetic tool box that sat idly on the floor and caught himself by grabbing a fusion pipe with his good hand. Thick greasy dirt on the warm metal smeared across his palm. He dropped his revolver. It hit the titanium floor panels with a clang, but he pulled it back with his foot. A scratching noise from the side alerted him; a tawny rat gnawed at the circuit box for the lighting system. Its red eyes glowed. It scratched with its claws against the floor, drumming the metal. Fade kicked the tool box to crush the creature against the wall.

“Another stowaway,” he muttered.

Fade hobbled a few steps further, then sat down. A large vertical recycling pipe served as a leaning post as he stretched his feet toward the opposite end of the hall. The numbness attacked his shoulder; his right arm remained immobile. Ace leaned nearby, examining the dirty blue rayon wrapped like a tourniquet around the shoulder even as congealing blood escaped through it.

“It’s too tight,” Ace said. “Want to lose your arm over a flesh wound? Let me take it off.”

Crimson soaked through the stiff double knot. Ace’s fingers borrowed the hue as he worked it loose. It ripped unevenly, with threads hanging from the ends. The stain on the inside was less severe than the blood that soaked the outside because the bandage had been tied away from the wound. Ace threw it over the tool box, working as quickly as he could. He placed the medals of his pilot’s uniform in his pants pockets so he could use his shirt as a fresh bandage.

“You’ve lost blood, nothing life threatening, could have lost more if it wasn’t for the burn,” Ace explained, “The wound needs to be cleaned. Why aren’t there any med-kits on this vessel? What kind of idiot uses a filthy rag as a bandage?”

“We have a med-bay, why would we need kits? I’ll be fine. Let’s get this over with,” Fade hobbled up with the aid of one arm. His wounded right arm tingled like it was raining needles on his skin, though it was already regaining movement, despite heavier bleeding.

Footsteps approached. They readied their weapons, holding their fire as a shadow turned the corner, becoming a male figure with his arms in the air. It was Adritah. Destiny had him.

Yet he held a small, black, restriction device in his left hand.

The metal grills on its surface glowed as it activated.