The headache was the first thing Ed acknowledged as he emerged from the fog of oblivion. Luckily the armoured suit had taken the heat out of the heavy stun shot, but being of Klatt design it merely transferred the load of the charged bolt around the whole body, in reality, only saving him from a localised burn mark. His ribs throbbed every time he took a deep breath too.
Opening one eye cautiously, he took in his surroundings. A small cell of some kind. Grey painted walls, with a backlit ceiling, far too bright in his opinion. What looked on first glance like a bundle of rags in the corner was in fact Pickyrd, lying just as he had been dumped, with his tied hands sticking up at an awkward angle.
‘Captain,’ he croaked, nudging Pickyrd with his foot.
‘Shiity fuuckk,’ was his mumbled reply, which Ed considered summed up the moment exactly.
Slowly opening both eyes, Ed sat up and stretched as best he could.
Pickyrd eventually did the same thing, only even slower. With his hair plastered down over one eye, he reminded Ed of a new wave singer on the cover of one of his dad’s dodgy old eighties albums. Pickyrd noticed his disparaging glance.
‘You’re no beauty contestant yourself, Virr,’ he wheezed, wincing as he ran his eyes around the cell. ‘Where the hell are we now? And why are we still alive?’
‘He doesn’t have permission to bundle us out an airlock,’ said Ed. ‘Whoever’s calling the shots wants us alive for some reason or other.’
Movement outside the cell caught their attention, the squeak of boots on polished floors. A range of toned beeps sounded before the door swung open.
‘Morning, you pains in the arse – sleep well?’ asked the Skirmat Eagle, grinning like a Cheshire cat. ‘Saved the presidential suite specially for you,’ he added, running his eyes appreciably around the cell. ‘Luckily, because of operational radio silence, I have been unable to converse with my employer, which means I don’t have permission to send you on a cold walk just yet, but I’m sure it’ll happen quite soon. In the meantime, enjoy the resort’s facilities and galaxy-renowned cuisine, I’ll be—’
A shout and thump from outside the cell interrupted him. He turned to see a pair of legs prone on the floor outside the cell and another of his personal guards fly backwards past the door, followed by a thump then a crash.
‘Oh dear – having staffing problems?’ said Ed. ‘New ship and all that, takes a while to get the right team together.’
The Skirmat sneered and stepped back towards the door, drawing his personal weapon as he went.
‘Sergeant, what’s going on?’ he called.
Before he got a reply, a male Klatt face peered around the door frame.
‘Hello,’ he said, smiling. ‘Engineering department to sort out your electrical fault. Did you know there are people sleeping on the floor out here?’
The Skirmat pointed his laser pistol at the engineer’s face.
‘Who the fuck are you?’
‘Games,’ he said, stepping into the doorway, completely ignoring the weapon in his face and inspecting the interior of the cell.
‘Games who?’
‘Game’s up,’ said the engineer, morphing into Cleo, a weapon in her hand too, pointing at his head.
The Skirmat fired. Cleo disappeared, reappearing just to the left of where she’d been before. The bolt, thudding into the wall on the opposite side of the corridor, started a small fire.
‘Oops,’ said Cleo. ‘You’ve scratched your new ship.’
He curled his lip, moved his aim across and fired again. The same thing happened the other way round this time. He growled and tried again and again, with the same result. The corridor wall was now mostly gone and the fire had become a little more serious.
‘Are you bored yet?’ she said. ‘Cuz I am.’
He flew back across the cell doubled up as Cleo lowered her aim and fired into his crotch.
‘Fuck me,’ said Pickyrd, pulling his legs in tight and covering his crotch with his hands.
Ed laughed and struggled into a standing position, holding his hands out to Cleo so she could untie them.
‘Hi, beautiful,’ he said, accepting a hug once he was free. ‘I take it the ship is nearby?’
‘Well, I hope so,’ she replied, looking a little sheepish.
‘You’re not sure?’
‘Well, that’s just the thing,’ she said. ‘When I arrived, I didn’t have any memory of why or what I was here for.’
‘Excuse me,’ said Pickyrd, picking himself up and eyeing and pointing at Cleo apprehensively. ‘Just who the hell is she?’
‘Sorry, Captain,’ Ed said. ‘May I introduce Cleo, our sentient ship’s computer.’
Cleo stepped forward, a serrated eight-inch knife appearing in her hand. Pickyrd’s eyes widened and he instinctively stepped back, his shoulders immediately hitting the rear cell wall. She smiled at his reaction and pointed at his hands still tied in front of him.
‘Oh,’ he said, his relief palpable as he offered them up to have the plastic ties cut. ‘Is he dead?’ he asked, eyeing the Skirmat lying awkwardly at his feet.
She shook her head.
‘I am unable to take a life,’ she said, cutting Pickyrd’s bonds and kicking the Skirmat in the side of the head. ‘Doesn’t mean I can’t dish out a little discomfort to the occasional arrogant fuck head,’ she added.
‘What caused you to have a memory lapse?’ Ed asked, peering out the door to make sure they were alone.
‘This ship has excellent shielding, it must have come back online before my transfer was complete,’ she said.
‘The shielding was offline?’ Pickyrd asked, his anxious gaze meeting Ed’s equally concerned look.
‘The weapon must have been fired,’ said Ed, glancing back at Cleo. ‘Do we know what at?’
Cleo shrugged.
‘No idea,’ she said. ‘I only found out you were here when I found your bracelets on the shuttle and started searching for you. Everything else is a blank.’
‘The shuttle is okay?’ he asked.
‘It was fine when I left it. I rebooted it and programmed an embedded jump into neutral space, so if you gentlemen would like to follow me, I’d like to fully execute this daring rescue. At least I hope that’s what this was supposed to be.’
Dragging all the unconscious bodies into the cell and locking it, they armed themselves from the collection of weapons lying on the corridor floor and followed Cleo as she made her way aft, quickly retracing her footsteps before the bellowing fire alarms brought unwanted attention.