Bug tube, Katadromiko 52, un-named system
A large group of heavily armed humans thundered around the bend three abreast, completely filling the space. Cleo noticed the look of surprise on their faces matched her own.
The front rank stopped abruptly, causing those behind to clatter into them and each other.
‘Captain?’ a voice from somewhere within the group blurted, both questioningly and suspiciously.
‘Don’t worry, I haven’t been converted,’ she said, keeping her hands clearly visible, demonstrating she was unarmed.
One of the group from the front row spoke, eyeing her sceptically.
‘How in Ancient’s name have you survived unarmed?’ he asked, jutting out his chin.
‘I was with these two and they are,’ she said, pointing into the rock room.
All eyes and weapons swivelled to cover the doorway. Cleo beckoned to Ed and Andy.
‘Come on out, guys,’ she said. ‘These appear to be genuine crew and on our side.’
‘Weapons down,’ the spokesman shouted to them. ‘If I see as much as a hand facing forward, you will be dropped.’
Three of the crew beside the spokesman dropped to their knees, bringing their rifles into the shoulder allowing the row behind to shoulder theirs. There were now seven rifles covering the doorway.
Ed came first, slowly, his rifle slung over his back, his palms held up and towards the newcomers, followed closely by Andy in a similar pose.
‘Tell us your names, ranks, numbers and planet of birth,’ he ordered.
‘Edward Virr, captain, no number as not a serving GDA officer and Earth,’ he said.
The spokesman’s brow furrowed, but before he could speak Andy did.
‘Andrew Faux, chief engineer, also no number for the same reason and Earth.’
The spokesman’s gaze flicked between them until a spark of recognition registered in his eyes.
‘Are you the civilian crew from that Theo ship we were sent to aid?’ he asked.
Before Ed had a chance to reply a patronising voice echoed out from the group.
‘That’s Edward Virr from the Gabriel, you moron, don’t you recognise him?’
The comment received a few sniggers from the rest of the group. The spokesman turned and glowered over his shoulder.
‘Thank you, Corporal Fees,’ he sneered. ‘That’s quite enough from you.’
The corporal stepped out from the throng, rounded the spokesman and approached Ed, his fist held out in front.
‘It’s good to see you, Captain,’ he said.
Ed knew from Admiral Loftt, the proffered fist was a marine greeting. He also knew it wasn’t like the Earth greeting where you bumped fists head-on. You tapped your fist on top of his and then he on top of yours.
Corporal Fees grinned when he did so.
‘You’re a friend of the admiral I understand,’ he said.
Ed noticed the spokesman’s eyebrows suddenly rise at that piece of information.
‘I apologise for my colleague here,’ he continued, jabbing a thumb over his shoulder. ‘He’s a catering manager and thinks he can order career marines around.’
‘I was the senior rank,’ the spokesman blurted. ‘It was only right I…’
‘If I’m not very much mistaken, your captain is the most senior rank and she is still in command,’ said Andy.
Causing the group’s attention to turn to Cleo.
‘Although, that’s not her,’ said Ed, pointing at Cleo, who took the cue to morph back into herself.
This garnered a collective gasp from the group and a few weapons to rise up again. Ed held his hands up and shook his head.
‘It’s okay,’ he said. ‘This is Cleo my sentient ship’s computer. Captain Whipper is still commanding the vessel from a hidden ROR. Cleo here poses as her to lure groups of bugs into hangars where they can be flushed out the door.’
‘What a great idea,’ said Fees. ‘All we’ve been able to do is blow a load of them away with these.’ He tapped his rifle and grinned again. ‘I must agree, that would prove a much less pungent way to dispose of them.’
‘Don’t go in there then,’ mumbled Andy, gurning a revolted face and nodding back through the door.
‘Ah. Have you secured that room?’ Fees asked, stretching his neck to peer around the corner.
‘We have,’ said Ed.
‘Any crew in there?’
‘Four, all unconscious but alive.’
‘Have they been altered?’
‘Unknown,’ said Ed. ‘Is there a medical room that’s functional?’
‘Not that we know of,’ said Fees.
‘Did you decommission the other rock room?’ asked Andy, pointing back down the tube.
‘Oh yeah,’ said Fees, patting his rifle. ‘With extreme prejudice.’
‘You’re my kinda guy,’ said Andy, patting his.
Ed rolled his eyes.
‘Can we move on before you two get engaged or something,’ he said. ‘We need to get to the water supply control room on deck 311, room 9020.’
‘Well remembered,’ said Andy. ‘Come this way, ladies and gentlemen, we have a private train awaiting to depart.’
There were seventeen of them, eleven men and six women. Some were still dressed in their relative uniforms and the remainder in various styles of civilian dress. All were armed though, most with laser rifles and a handful with smaller hand weapons, a few with both.
As they reached the tube stop and piled aboard, Ed noticed the original spokesman had a face like a wet weekend. He pulled him to one side.
‘When we’ve retaken the ship, we’re going to need you to organise feeding the survivors,’ he whispered in his ear. ‘It’ll be one of the most important jobs on the ship and everyone will be relying on you.’
He gave Ed a stern sideways glance.
‘Who gave you the authority to give the orders?’ he growled. ‘You’re not even a member of the crew.’
‘I did,’ boomed the captain, her sudden loud utterance over the carriage’s intercom making everyone jump. ‘The only reason we’re in a position to retake our ship is because of them. So, Mr Hertmayor, catering supervisor from the canteen on deck 190, you do as you’re fucking told.’
Ed heard Andy chuckle behind them, as Hertmayor blenched at the mention of his name and actual rank. He gritted his teeth and stared at the floor as everyone on the carriage turned to look at him.
‘Ship’s senior catering manager, eh?’ said Fees, patronisingly. ‘Well, well!’
‘Doesn’t matter who or what he is,’ said Ed, ‘we’re going to need him along with the rest of you to get this ship up and running again. Is everyone cool with that?’
A round of concurring nods and verbal affirmations echoed around the carriage. Even Hertmayor nodded his consent before sitting down and avoiding eye contact with anyone.
‘Why are we going to the water supply deck?’ Fees asked.
‘We believe the bugs might be attempting to poison the supply,’ said Andy.
‘What, to kill us all? Like what happened on the 38 a few years ago?’ one of the girls asked.
‘It was the Katadromiko 37,’ Fees corrected her, a faraway look crossing his face.
Ed noticed his change in demeanour.
‘Did you know someone on that ship?’ he asked.
‘My father,’ he answered, softly. ‘He was a marine officer on board.’
Andy reached over and squeezed his shoulder. Fees cleared his throat and adopted a more determined expression.
‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘Dark times.’
‘Well, let’s all work together and make sure this isn’t another one,’ said Ed, turning to face the girl who’d spoked first. ‘In answer to your original question, no, it isn’t,’ he said. ‘We believe they’re attempting to add the nano technology that they’re using to brainwash your crew. If they manage that then they’ll convert almost everyone in one fell swoop.’
Those still standing staggered slightly as the carriage pulled away. Ed glanced up at one of the cameras.
‘As near to room 9020 on deck 311 as you can please, Captain,’ he said.
‘Already programmed in,’ came the reply from Grogun. ‘The cameras are down on that deck, so I can’t give you a recce on the location.’
‘I can,’ said Cleo, garnering a collective gasp from the group as she morphed into a bug and promptly vanished.