The Lucky 13 chapter two

"Sounds good to me" growled Rogers, wishing to turn around and glare at the two oafs. The pair of them would have been helpful or keep their big blabbermouths shut. Now it was looking like they were in it for an all out brawl with the Captain and a handful of her goons. So much for a duel between officers, settling the score between them (and getting his convicts off without a whipping, if he beat the crap out of the stuck-up bitch). Well it was too late to add any more terms to the deal. If anything, this proved that Valentine/Cartier shouldn't be trusted with any information other then was necessary, specifically if there was another big fish he could squeal to.

"I'll bring my three" he added, "You you can picked out three more of your squids to join us."

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Twenty minutes later, the Major and three convicts caught up in his power-play stood in front of the double hatch for the hanger. Each one of them were wearing emergency decompression gear,which consisted of a rebreather unit (a small tank worn on the back to recycled exhaled gases, connected by a tube to a face piece that covers the mouth and nose), a set of earplugs and a pair of snug fitting goggles. It was all standard issue for Navy personal (or Army of they were on board), to keep them alive should the ship suffer a hull breach, where all the pressure and atmosphere would be lost. Unlike a full vacuum suit, the emergency gear wont allow a human to survive out in space for a long period of time, twenty minutes was the longest recorded survival time. However, for what they were about to so, it would serve perfectly, as they were about to try to cut a number of sailors into submission.

The plan was simple, each 'team' would be issued emergency gear and a combat knife (the great great something grandchild of the KA BAR, an eight inch clip tip blade, weighing a little over a pound). After getting dressed, both 'teams' would enter the hanger to face off, the hatches would be sealed and the hanger would be slowly depressurized, then the gravity would be turned off, just like if a shuttle was being launched. Once you were no longer standing on the deck, the fight with whomever you squared off with could start.

"Remember" said Rogers, before he strapped on his face piece and put in the earplugs, "The only rules are no killing and no crippling injuries. Other then that, go nuts."

With his gear settled in place, the Army officer touched the hatch controls. The thick metal barriers hissed open, like a faint echo of the Colosseum crowd roars, admitting them to a strange dueling arena. Waving them to follow, he strolled inside, the knife unsheathed and gripped loosely his right hand.

The giant’s gaze was forced to be fixed upon her face as she routed around his lap for the lock. Inali had located the large cuff that secured the chains in place with relative ease. The prostitute’s skilful hand delicately probed the locking mechanism despite the awkward working angle. Shifting her weight forward she leaned in over her hand as she continued to work at the heavy clasp by touch with the archaic tool. To the camera at her back it simply looked as if the provocative whore was doing what she did best and had moved in for a playful tug.

“We don't tell anyone about this” She insisted once again tilting his head upward with his chin held firmly between her thumb and forefinger. “I mean, this is about trust right?”

“Inali, forget this war they wish to drag you into and run away with me. What do you really expect to accomplish anyways? Convicts seldom work well on the outside together, they’re selfish. Just look at what happened to us.”

There was a small click and Inali withdrew the bobby pin from the lock. Even as she slid the pin back into her pocket the enlarged convict could see the uncertainty see had in her actions. Her face turned pale and gaunt, her eyes became distant as if caught in an uneasy premonition of things to come as her hand slid from his face. Alistair was about to reassure her about her concerns when the familiar hiss of the door registered behind the unfortunate pair, timing was impeccable.

” Well ,well,well what do we have here?” Inquired one of the armed escorts that passed through the door catching a glimpse of the young vixen perched upon the prisoner’s lap.

“Come on Jarvis, it shouldn’t come as a surprise. After all her large black friend indicated as much when he spilled the beans to the Captain in effort to save his own hide.” Quipped the other following behind.


“The Misses didn’t explain what to do about her when we were asked to retrieve this one. I’m not one to complain mind you, Hank said she was sweet. Care to share some of what you’re giving out over there honey?”

Tony sighed and cracked his neck a bit as the conversation still lagged on. His ears only perking up when he heard his own involvement in the fight. Granted he didn't mean that he wanted to fight as bad as Valentine. He thought he made it rather clear that he thought this was all just a joke. A unnecessary distraction from the true mission. He wanted all these politics to just die out so they could concentrate on the real enemy. Tony wanted to get the crew together see who works well with who and what everyone can bring to the table, put the plan in action and then move on life. Hell who knows what life could hold after all this, well he supposes he knows what would be in store for him. Quick money, quick women, lavish accommodations and an end which would make him legend. He knew he had little chance to lead a normal life, less of a chance than Charlie or even Inali.

The final words of the conniving woman passed though Tony's ears as wind would a tree. His mind was stuck on his last thought. Inali. The conversation they had last night before she ran off to the majors room was still fresh in his head. Much had happened in their lives since they had last seen each other, more so for her than himself. But he also noticed other things in their talk, her body language was completely unlike the young vixen he had known for so long. Tony had chalked it up to her recalling so much in such a short period of time. Obviously her life had taken a complete 180 since he had last spoken to her, he chalked it up to her recalling her grand downfall into a prison whore.Now...he body language peaked when she spoke about....Tony rubbed his head and whispered a swear to himself. "You fucking fool...." His eyes scanned the room for her, he hadn't thought to before. He turned away in case the other 2 next to him might have heard his curse. Where was Inali?





Tony had missed the feeling of a real knife. Though this thing was so large, so damn clumsy and had no style; he could never understand peoples infatuation for blades like this. Give him a simple switchblade anytime. Tony was sure he'd grow use to it though as be began to throw it between on hand and the other. As he was beginning to throw flips in with it he slowly moved to the black human brickwall to his side. The major put on this mask after giving the other 3 a quick reminder of the rules. Tony stopped the big man before he put on his mask. "I have a feeling it's you in there Valentine. If it is, let's finish this fast. There's.....something not right here." As he moved back to his spot in the line he caught a glance from Charlie. He returned it in kind, a look that said stay out of my way. Tony took a deep breath as he flipped the blade once more from one had to the other before putting on the mask and earplugs.

The Major had sent him several telling looks that he was less than pleased with his little outburst. It was fairly clear the two brawling military stiffs were treating his outburst as if it was showing loyalty toward the redhead, which wasn't the case. It was more of a proclamation he held neither in higher regard than the other. He shouldn't have been surprised. Cartier expressed his own distaste as soon as the promise of instant action had faded slightly. Even as the Valentine drooled over the blade being placed in his hand Cartier nagged.

You fucked up. The Major is our foot in the door and you're barking at him like a rabid dog.
~ You could have stopped me. If you really wanted to.
I don't think that's fair.
~ Just because you need pills to make me less persuasive doesn't make me the cheater. If anything you're the guilty one.
I'm going to smooth this over so we aren't treated like second class citizens on this mission.
~ We didn't start anything Cartier. I'm just finishing it.

Cartier surged, the synapses firing wildly inside the large mans head as one tried to force itself on the other to no avail.

~ Tsk, Tsk my dear friend. You know you need me for whats about to come.

With a practiced hand Valentine grazed the edge of the knife across his palm grinning and wild eyed as Tony approached him. "I have a feeling it's you in there Valentine. If it is, let's finish this fast. There's.....something not right here." Tony put on his mask and took his place in line sending a sideways glance at Charlie, who seemed in an even larger tizzy over his previous monologue than the Major. Valentine's boisterous laughter filled the small air lock gleeful both at Tony's understated remark and the fact he was about to kill.

The Major made it clear there would be no deaths, no crippling injuries but he was a fool to think that the Captain and her lackeys weren't going to be out for much more than first blood. This was about to be a bunch of sharks thrust into a very small pool, as soon as gore was in the water there would be a frenzy. Valentine snapped the mask into place, his sculpted cheeks and almond eyes still crinkled from the toothy smile which was stuck across his face.

“Inali, forget this war they wish to drag you into and run away with me. What do you really expect to accomplish anyways? Convicts seldom work well on the outside together, they’re selfish. Just look at what happened to us.”

It was the type of thing that heartsick women read in romance novels. Normally it was the type of thing women didn't hear, only day dreamed about. Yet given her current situation it only seemed to make things more tense. Run away, her father ran away from the army and just got thrown into jail. Either way the destination looked grim, not that it mattered, all the roads they were taking inevitably lead to the same place.

“Exactly Alistair.” Inali muttered, a small bitter smile on her lips as she shook her head. “Just look at what happened to us.”

” Well ,well,well what do we have here?”

Inali's head snapped towards the door, her eyes narrowing into small unhappy slits. The last thing she wanted was to be interrupted by two goons. What she should have done was get off the man's lap and out of the room. After all, she was technically still a prisoner and thus didn't have much authority at all in the ship. However, she was feeling far up on her high horse at that moment. With an indignant air Inali turned up her nose and started on saying something cross.

“Don't you have something better do to than bother me?” Inali spat, having forgotten her place. This seemed to make the guards equally indignant, starting towards her with scowls.

“Get up.” One of them glowered, grabbing her arm and trying to pull her off the giant. With her free hand Inali smacked the guards arm in a bratty fashion, muttering something along the lines of 'get off of me'. It was at this point that it had become apparent that she'd overstepped her boundaries. Grabbing her arm harder the man yanked her off Alistair, causing her to fall hard onto the floor.

“Hey! Just how do you think you are?” Inali hissed, standing up and trying to recover her pride after the fall. “I'm not done here!” She muttered. Perhaps this was a matter of territory in a more primal side of her female brain. Freckles had sent the men, and Inali sure as hell didn't want that red haired whore to think she'd one upped her.

“Oh, I think you are.” The other scoffed, dragging her a good few feet with ease. In her thoughts Inali damned being so lightweight, if she was heavier getting her from point A to point B would probably be a bit more difficult. Jabbing the man in the ribcage with her elbow Inali pulled free. This, however, proved to only put her further down on their shit list. Her resisting wasn't what they were expecting, and it sure as hell wasn't what they'd wanted. Almost as fast as she'd hit him Inali received a blow to the face as the man growled something which was blurred out by the sheer impact of his hit.

The fist collided with the outermost part of her eye socket, causing the bone to break with a sickening crack. Shocked Inali stumbled sideways, one hand flying to her eye as she let out a yelp. Being hit in the face wasn't something she could take gracefully, she never could. Slamming hard against the wall closest to her Inali took a moment to realize what had happened.

He had hit her in the face. Her face of all things! God, she didn't have status or money her looks were just about the only thing left. While the wound would more than likely bruise, and not swell her eye, Inali sure as hell didn't know this and was convinced that her eye would turn into a gelatinous tennis ball. Gritting her teeth Inali took a blind swing at the man closest to her only to have her arm caught and held behind her. She wasn't in a condition to fight, she wasn't thinking and she was no match for two burly(and armed) guards.

“You uppity bitch.” The man almost laughed, kicking her lower back and sending her to the floor. Landing against the cold floor Inali concluded that it was no place to be during a fight. However, at that point things had begun to move in their usual slow-motion Inali time. Her limbs felt like they were trying to pull through molasses as she tried to bring herself back to her feet, but a hand grabbed the back of her shirt and forcefully managed to pull her onto her back, before she could even land Inali was greeted by a boot to her abdomen.

“Fuck.” She muttered, staring up at the two silhouettes of men through her blurred vision. An arm went up feebly so as to cover her face as she hoped to God they didn't beat her within half an inch of her life. Penetration she could deal with, broken bones she would have liked to deal without. "Okay I give up." She squeaked, this was a battle she sure as hell wasn't going to win.

"It's too late for that." The taller of the two chuckled thus causing Inali to cringe inwardly. She should have expected something like this to happen, this was war after all.

“Hey! Just how do you think you are?” Inali hissed, standing up and trying to recover her pride after the fall. “I'm not done here!”

Now that was the Inali of old. A pint-sized firecracker that put up with nobody’s shit, filled to the brim with attitude and masterfully wielding a razor sharp tongue to cut others to a more manageable size. The problem was these were marines and not the low-browed guards they were accustomed to back on Jakau Gamma. No, these burly sailors marched to a different drummer as the verbally abusive brunette soon found out.


“Oh, I think you are.” The other scoffed, dragging her a good few feet with ease.


Alistair turned straining to look over his shoulder as the lightweight woman was pulled away. The rest seem to happen so quickly. A sharp elbow stuck the guard granting Inali temporary freedom only to find herself on the receiving end of a massive right hook in retaliation. The resounding ‘pop’ of the snapped orbital bone followed in conjunction by the agonizing squeal from the assaulted female left little doubt in the giant’s mind that the situation had gone from bad to worse.

“You’ve made your point, leave her!” Alistair boomed the intercession.

“ Uppity bitch.”

The prisoner's appeal fell upon deaf ears as the guard place a solid kick into the feisty prostitute sending her to the cell floor. She threw a thin frail arm up in front of her face in an effort to shield herself from further damage. Alistair angrily rose from the small metal chair vehemently shaking the heavy shackles. Desperately he fought to aid his fallen friend only to find himself still pinned in place by restraint locked upon his right wrist. Grasping the thick metal chain that held him captive he used his thick muscular legs as leverage giving the weighty cable a mighty tug. The resulting fore snapped the hooked pin from the floor giving him the freedom to intervene.

"Okay I give up." She squeaked.

"It's too late for that." The taller of the two chuckled.

The naval guard's amusement was short lived as the enraged mammoth wildly swung the coarse length of chain that hung from his wrist. The burly sailor's head twisted unexpectedly sideways upon impact spewing shattered teeth and blood against the stark white walls of the cell. Two quick steps and Alistair had closed the gap between that separated them only moments ago. Reaching out grasping the stunned opponent by each side of the blood covered face the sharp talon-like claws tore though the soft flesh digging into the unfortunate victim's skull lifting him from the ground. With an enraged roar the man-best administered a sharp twist snapping the man's neck before tossing him aside like garbage.

A sharp jolt rushed through Alistair's body causing him to step back turning to face the other threat in the room. A second burst emulated from the stun gun firmly grasped within the terrified sailor catching the adrenaline pumped cannibal square in the chest. The blast while sufficient enough to slow the behemoth it did not stop him. The giant lumbered forward grabbing the unfortunate fool driving the smaller man to the floor. A third shot ripped into the pale white flesh of the psychotic mad man as the intertwined. It was a fourth blast from a third party nestled in the doorway finally felled the beast. Quickly, a pair of cuffs were once again slapped upon the sleeping giant”s wrists as the four new arrivals dragged him from the cell.

”Leave the girl, you can come back for some fun after the show. Right now, let's get what's left of this beast back to Captain Meade. We're sure to be in enough trouble already.” Cautioned the low ranking officer.

The door slammed shut behind the evacuating troupe leaving the battered prostitute locked behind for future retrieval.


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His head still pounded, he had lost all concept of time as he was briskly prepared for the event. Brianne's offer was a simple one, kill the Major. The reward, other than the opportunity to wrap his hefty meat hooks around the Major's throat was appealing. A much more promising offer in comparison to rotting away in a cell or facing an alien in a war he did not want to participate in. The question still remained that if he came through with his end of the bargain would she. That was a chance he had to take a the moment.

The white cotton pants the navy supplied to him barely reached below the knee. The bleached with tank top stretched taut across his barrel chest. Alistair gently tilted his head from side to side trying to alleviate the tension had built up in his thick neck. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath as he put the earplugs in place. The snug fitting goggles were strapped into place and the giant preparing for battle. The last item sat sheathed beside him as the armed escort looked on in case of trouble.

The eight inch blade was dwarfed by the large menacing hand that grasped the grip. With his gear settle in place, knife sheath strapped to the upper thigh., Alistair rose and took his place behind the trio of sailors that were to accompany him into battle. It mattered little who fought by his side or whom he faced. The thick metal barriers hissed open admitting them to the strange arena. Solemnly, he strolled inside; the combat knife remained sheathed freeing his hands for the moment. Head and shoulders above the navy's best the grim killer strategically he scanned the field eyeing the opposition and formulated a plan of attack.


"Bring it, Major. Let's see what you've got."

At first what was going on around her didn't quite register with Inali. She hadn't even noticed that Alistair had gotten himself free, and at first didn't realize it was Alistair who had taken down her attacker. Slow motion Inali-time suddenly broke and quickly the woman pushed herself into the nearest corner before one of the guards could step on her again. They'd managed to piss Alistair off something awful, and watching him Inali hopped she didn't get him into more trouble; she seemed to have a habit of doing that.

Before she could so much as warn him Alistair was taken down by several stun gun shots and dragged away. As the door closed Inali made a feeble attempt at reaching it while it was open. This didn't work quite so well, and only caused Inali to slam into the door hands first. Instead of perhaps turning back and thinking like a sensible human Inali decided to take some time to act a tad un-sensible while slamming on the door and shouting out a few obscenities. She hadn't gotten her wits back just yet, but as the guards vanished from her vision she slowly felt her common sense coming back.

So that was it? They were just going to lock her in a room, maybe kill her friend, and probably try to group fuck her? That didn't seem pleasant.

The sex, well she didn't mind. Quite frankly she could do without it, but that wasn't what she was worried about. It was more or less what was going on outside of the cell. She heard the guards muttering something about a fight(or maybe it was a duel) as they dragged Alistair off. They really had to stop talking about things in front of prisoners. They were a bit incompetent, but then again they were goons. Goons weren't supposed to be competent.

Looking to her left as she stepped back from the door Inali's looked over the bloodied heap on the floor. If this man wasn't dead, he was damn unlucky. Gingerly she stepped over to the body, tilting her head to one side as she bent over the dead man. Why on earth they'd just leave him there with her was beyond her. He had to have something good laying in those pockets of his. Checking his dog tag Inali read his name and number before going off to his pockets to see what goodies she could grab.

Much to Inali's luck, she'd come across something that could most definitely help her: a card-key.

“Oh Mr. Wellborn.” She tutted, reading the name on the card-key as Ryan Lementiwitz. “Someone wasn't following regulation.”

Standing up, card key now tucked into her bra and a stun gun in the other hand Inali chuckled a bit. How in the hell she managed to get lucky so many times in less than a month was beyond her. She was just one of those blessed kinds of people. Though, she didn't count her blessings just yet, she still had to find out where Alistair was and hopefully find out what was going on with this duel.



Walking down the hallway, a passed out guard a few corridors down, Inali crinkled her nose as she touched her broken eye-socket. God, it hurt like hell. Perhaps that shouldn't have been her main priority, but damn it hurt.

Ducking behind a corner Inali peered over at the guard who was, quite obviously, guarding the door to where the supposed duel was taking place. She shouldn't have been able to find it, but it's funny what someone will tell you when you threaten to take a stun gun to their family jewel's. Unsympathetic? Yes, probably. Effective? Very.

Waiting, thought waiting impatiently, Inali watched as the guard turned away from her before shooting her gun at him. He didn't go down on the first shot, letting out a cross between a grunt and a scream. Grinding her teeth Inali got closer and shot another round, causing him to fall like a sack of potatoes. God, she hoped no one heard that. Getting passed another round of guards with what she imagined was maybe three or four more shots from her gun would be a bitch. Thankfully Inali had managed to slip through the door before anyone could check up on their unconscious friend.

“So just what in the blue hell is going on here?” Inali asked loudly, a wise-ass grin on her face despite the giant semi-circle of a bruise and the bloodied mouth. Her gaze shifted from Valentine, then to the Major, and then to Tony. “Hey guys.” She almost laughed at the situation. If she only had a dollar for every time she'd been somewhere where she shouldn't have been; she'd be even richer.

That conniving, backstabbing, psychotic son of a bitch! He’d snuck into her room, he’d gone through her file, and goddamn it he’d read through her personal letter to her brother. He’d read every line, and not content keeping that personal information locked up in his own twisted mind, he’d quite intentionally flapped his gums to the one woman who was threatening their very freedom and very possibly all their lives. Charlie hadn’t said a word since the two head honchos had decided on the field of battle, but the cold furry etched on her face spoke quite clearly that she was imagining a hundred different slow and painful deaths for Valentine. At one point while they were suiting up, Charlie considered attacking the backstabbing duel personality bastard while the fight was going on, but any such fury inspired plans were shot down at pointblank when she saw one of the men that Navy bitch had chosen for her crew. Alistair, that red head was nuts! Or tactically sound in a twisted sort of way, depending on your point of view.

“She’s trying to kill you.” Charlie said grimly towards the Major. And if they all weren’t carful, in the circumstances Captain bitch-wad had setup, she might succeed. This was going to be like playing a game of chess, where the other team could use the rules of checkers. Team convict’s goal had to be protecting the Major, their King in this scenario, from deadly intent, and couldn’t use it back. Being the General’s daughter here, insured that anything beyond a flesh wound to the smug redhead in this contest, would resulting capital punishment. Counter wise, at least one member of their team was willing to kill, and the rest were likely to be highly motivated in doing more than just flesh wound damage to the rest of the team. Tacitly, Charlie’s analysis put them at a disadvantage, nota good place to be.

“Look here.” Charlie said over to Valentine, managing to contain the venom. “Your little gum flapping fest accelerated us here, so keep your focus on Alistair.” Charlie said gesturing his way. “That crazy son of a bitch will stop at nothing to kill the Major. If the boss dies, we’re all looking at a one way trip to somewhere probably worse than any of the prison worlds we’ve been forced on, so keep Alistair out of threatening range of the Major. Got it?”

Valentine wasn't blind, even before Charlie started blabbering in his directions, he saw the cannibal standing opposite them, his furious stare dead set on the Major. It was likely the brute was the only other one that rivaled his own bulky frame on the entire ship so while it was an unexpected and gutsy move from the Captain he would be lying if he said he was as shocked as everyone else seemed to be. To her credit, this was the exact kind of move he would make in her position.
The angry vixen was right, the Major could not be allowed to die. And judging by his stare Alistair was the only other one besides himself dead set on killing someone in this little duel. So that meant going toe to toe with someone who could actually rival his strength rather than pummeling some random fodder.

Why can't you ever keep your trap shut, not only are we staring down the barrel of a gun but you made me look like a liability to the rest of our group.
~ As if its MY fault she leaves important things lying around like that for anyone to see.
You went into her room, opened a folder and read every last word, Valentine. Can you never admit when you're wrong?
~ You say wrong. I say I'm an entrepreneur.
I need my pills.
~ I need grape juice.
WOULD YOU STOP?! This is serious.
~ Not as serious as your allergy to the tastiest of all fruit juices.

It was just as Charlie finished that a most unexpected visitor arrived. "So just what in the blue hell is going on here?” The whore held the tinge of a grin upon her bloodied face as her gaze drifted across the four knife wielding teammates, though the term only loosely fit. "Hey guys." It was obvious she was taking this about as seriously as Valentine himself despite the fact she looked like she had gone twelve rounds with Tyson.

No one spoke, though there was muffled laughter from beneath the crazed giants mask as he managed to squeeze out a single question. "Who broke your pretty little face darlin?" This was followed by louder laughter, though it wasn't nearly as loud or as obnoxious as usual due to the tight fitting contraption strapped to his mouth.

Rogers glared across the hanger, his eyes fixed on Alistiar. He wanted to roar so loud, that he would be heard back on Earth and know his ire. That conniving little bitch had not only broken her word and dishonored herself but she had released that bastard from his cell. What would she do next, make contact with the Tarnakians and hand them (should they survive) over in some sort bid to get the soulless aggressors to accept her into their ranks? Damn her and damn all naval officers.

Then there was a commotion behind him. Although muffled by the earplugs and a little distorted by strange sounding laughter, it was Inali'. After hearing the different pitches the little convict's voice could reach (many times), it was hard to not be able to pick her's out of background noise. The Major sighed softly, turning so that he could banish her back to the hold and paused for a moment. Although she was smiling, her face bore the telltale signs of abuse. Suddenly the details clicked into place. She had gotten permission to visit the giant from him, now the giant was free and she looked like she had been beaten. A fresh surge of anger boiled his blood. That big bastard had tried to do it again (beat and devour a girl) but the prison whore had given him the slip.

"Fuck" muttered Robert, although no one would hear it because of the mask, as he sheathed the knife. He would have to get the story about the bruises and blood later, right now he needed to get Inali out of the hanger. Any moment now, the double hatches on both sides would seal themselves and the automatic systems would start draining the atmosphere. If she didn't strangle to death, the losses of pressure would cause ebullism (which the emergency gear would hold off, at least temporarily) and she would die from that. There wasn't any time to waste on explaining, so he walked back through the ranks of his convicts. Without slowing down, he leaned forwards, wrapped an arm around her waist and hosted her over his shoulder. As an alarm started to sound and warning lights flashed, he jogged back through the hatches and deposited Inali (on her feet) back in the corridor. Flashing her a smile, that she wouldn't see, he nearly had to jump backwards into the hanger, as the doors slammed shut.

"Come on" said Rogers in a voice that would carry through the mask, redrawing his knife, "We have some fun to get to. Who feels like taking on the big one?"

One the far left wall, a couple dozen small ports opened in the bulkhead and began venting the hanger.
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Behind Inali, several sailors stood. Most where just enlisted but a single warrant officer stood there, a hand held stunner aimed at the back of the whore. Wordlessly, he pulled the trigger. The voltage was low, so that whomever the weapon was being used on, would be out long, a few minutes at most. The Captain wanted the prisoner awake for some reason and it was not his place to argue. Just to be sure however, he fired a second time and after she dropped, had his patrol disarm the convict and carry her up one deck, to the hanger control, where Brianne Meade was waiting.

Perhaps it was due to the head wounds Inali had previously sustained that she wasn't quite as quick on the uptake as she usually was. Standing in the room Inali wondered why on Earth the team was wearing face masks. Wasn't that useless when the ship had oxygen? The gears in Inali's brain were in need of some oil as she pondered just what could be going on. But, before Inali could even vocalize her inquiry on the gas masks she was hoisted up by the Major.

“Hey! Wait I have to-” Was the only thing she could get in edgewise as he carried her out of the room as some sort of warning light flashed. Placed on her feet Inali watched as the Major jumped back into the room feeling rather bewildered. Well, she wasn't going to get her answers in there though she could probably piece together what may have been transpiring.

Not even making a full turn around to catch a glimpse at the sailors behind her Inali was shot in the back with a stun gun, causing her to fall to her knees with not even a scream but rather a shocked gasp. Her vision blurred much like it did in Alistair's cell. Before Inali could even manage to pass out another shock was sent through her, causing her to black out entirely.



At times during the trip to the upper deck Inali regained consciousness, catching glimpses of the floor and hearing the muffled sounds of footsteps. Not quite asleep, but far from awake she could hear the people around her talking, though couldn't comprehend a word they were saying. What brought Inali back somewhat was the feeling of being shifted from one position to the other. While she hadn't realized it yet Inali had been propped up in a chair, sitting before her least favorite red head.

“Wake up.” Meade spat curtly, her arms folded as she stood in front of the semi-conscious convict who had seemed to take an interest in the lights. Inali didn't respond. This only made Brianna more impatient. “Wake up.” The second time was louder, a little more forceful. The inmate in front of her swayed forward, her hand rubbing her good eye.

“The hell just happened?” Inali mumbled as she squinted up at the red head who, though smiling, looked less than pleased. Realizing just who was before her Inali couldn't help but let out an audible grunt of distaste as she wished she was somewhere else. Being placed in a pit with a thousand irritated asps would probably prove to be more pleasant than being placed in a room with that Freckle faced whore(though Inali wasn't one to talk).

“Where to start? You broke into my inmates cell, you resisted an officer, you caused their death, you then proceeded to break out of the cell you were locked in, took down a guard, and--”

“I get it!” Inali snapped, feeling a head ache coming on. “And in my defense, I didn't break in, I was let --”

“Quiet!” The woman's voice raised, causing the smaller one to hush up. Inali shot Brianna an almost confused glance. Damn, she was angry. It was probably a territory thing. Turning her head to what she realized was a glass window(though she doubted anyone on the other side could really get a good look at them) and managed to see what she thought was her whole team. Inali raised a hand as if to point, but seemed to give up halfway through the motion.

“What's going on there?” She changed the subject tactlessly. This seemed to amuse Brianna, whose lips turned into yet another cruel looking smile as she took a few steps towards the window. Her eyes scanned the inhabitants of the other room, and then went back to Inali.

“There's a duel going on you see.” Brianna stated, walking back over to Inali. The older woman circled her chair like a vulture surrounding its prey. Perhaps a more accurate description would be a shark surrounding it's prey though, Brianna seemed to be more of a shark.

“Before you go making my migraine worse, don't go into detail on explaining why.” Inali brushed the woman off, leaning back in her chair. “Besides, if there's a duel, why aren't you fighting in it? Afraid that you can't pull off bruises on top of wrinkles?” Inali looked up at the woman hovering at the back of her chair. “Trust me, it would be an improvement.” She prodded childishly.

This only managed to get Inali slapped. Wincing she held the side of her face that had gotten slapped, which also happened to be the side which was already doing rather horribly. Not that she would have expected her to do any different, she seemed to be the spiteful type. Despite that, Inali kept on with it.

“I mean, you want to look your best for Alistair don't you?” Inali asked, pulling her legs on to the chair and draping the over its arm, sitting in a similar position as she had with her large friend. “What is it about my sharp toothed friend that turns you on Freckles?” Inali asked. “Is it because you enjoy being wrong; feeling wrong?” Inali kept going, idly swinging one leg.

“Or maybe, just maybe.” Inali stretched out the last part of her sentence, the pitch of her voice raising as she grew a large Cheshire grin. “You want to stick it to daddy. It's always daddy issues with you women.” It was true, all trouble making women seemed to have some sort of daddy problem, when you worked with prostitutes for a living you began to realize how common it was.

“Stop talking.” Brianna hissed, her mouth no longer in a smile but now in a scowl as she walked away from Inali.

“What? What is it? Did daddy not give you enough affection when you were little?” Inali cooed, pouting out her lips and making a mocking tone. The expression quickly changed. “Or, maybe he gave you a little too much affection.” This seemed to get yet another rise out of Brianna as she whipped around.

“Shut up!” She shouted, louder than any time she'd raised her voice thus far. Inali, out of shock, stayed quite for a moment as her mouth made a small 'o'. However, it didn't take long for her rounded features to slink back into mischievous curves. Shifting back in a sitting position Inali leaned forward and spoke two very simple words.

“Make me.”

This seemed to drive Brianna off the edge as she let out an angry sounding growl. She charged over to Inali in heavy forceful steps, grabbing her by the collar of her shirt. Their eyes met, Inali's a more collected malevolence as opposed to Brianna's who looked as if she was going to do something drastic. However, her look soon faded, and she let out a small chuckle.

“Make you.” She nodded, as if agreeing with a voice in her head. “Make you.” She repeated, walking toward a control panel in the room. “Fine. I can do that.” She muttered, tapping a few button. Inali tilted her head to one side, her smile waning as she got out of her chair.

“What are you doing?” Inali asked, watching as Brianna pressed the very last button in the sequence. A siren went off, and a few red lights flashed once more in the other room. Eyed widening Inali watched as the hangar began to open, revealing a mass of stars.

“Shutting you up.”

Before Rogers question would be answered, new alarms started to sound. He didn't pay much attention to it, assuming that it was part of the automated systems that controlled the slow release of gases from the hanger. In fact, it wasn't until his feet started to slide that he looked away from where he had been focusing on Alistair. Now, the pull of the vacuum had already been tugging gently on his clothing and hair, ever since the hanger had started venting but now, for some reason, it was dragging him across the floor.

As his eyes looked upon the great hanger doors, his confusion turned to marrow-freezing fear. Instead of a solid wall of metal, there was a widening gap, through which could be scene the tinkle of stars and the black nothingness of empty space. The Major felt numb with a terror he'd never felt before. Not once while patrolling in dense jungle, with bandit snipers waiting in the trees or crawling into tunnels that could have been laced with traps or even in the middle of a firefight had he been afraid. He had been worried, about his men, about civilians and a number of other things but he had never been afraid for himself. Now, staring at the cold void of space, that changed.

The suction grew from what could have been compared with a gale-force wind to something immeasurable, as the hanger doors opened wider. With nothing to hang hold on, as the deck had been cleared, they didn't stand a chance. Robert was lifted from the metal decking, as he continued to be pulled towards the doors and went flying head over heels out the gap (luckily which was wider then a few men at this point), like a cannonball. As he went hurling out into space, a single thought burned like a brand through his fear, "This wasn't an accident".

The Navy men that accompanied the original convict giant, had realized the danger well before the Arny officer and had tried to ran back to the double hatch on their side of the hanger. It was futile however, as the hatches remained seal, no matter how hard they pounded on them or how frantically they shouted into the comm unit. Only seconds after the grunt went for his flight, did they follow in roughly the same manner. Not all were as luckily however. As one burly sailor went through the gap, his body wasn't aligned to go right through the middle like the rest and clipped the middle of his forehead against the hanger door, smashing his skull open.

Betrayed. That was the feeling that overwhelmed the menacing giant as the three sailors push past him and ran towards the double hatched doors from which they had just entered. Frantically the trio pounded upon the thick steel doors. Even their pathetic cry for help bellowed through the comm unit was ignored by their comrades safely nestled upon the other side of the barrier. All previous bargains with the red-headed bitch could be assumed null and void. He now found himself to be tossed out with the rest of the bath water.

He could already begin to feel the increasing suction pulling against his body as the strengthening winds swirled past his body. Alistair gripped the eight inch combat knife blade tightly in he right hand, wedging the thick blade into a small gap between two plates. The effort effectively anchored the intuitive convict in place and none too soon as the first burly grunt took flight past his position. Followed closely by a second, his body improperly aligned to go right through the middle like the first smashing his skull open against the hanger door.

The great hanger doors spread open like a huge menacing maw, seemingly laughing at the futile struggle to survive. The two sailors floated helplessly against the tinkle of stars and the black nothingness of empty space confirming the early victory. A trap had been sprung and Alistair found himself smack dab in the middle of it. He couldn’t help but feel elated momentarily as he witnessed Major Roger’s lifted from the metal decking and pulled towards the doors flying head over heels towards the gap. Problem was that if he was to survive this ordeal he may need to draw upon the experience the wily veteran. First order of business was survival; revenge while sweet may have to wait.

Charlie’s earlier anger, frustration, and steely determination was all gone, and instead replaced by panic and instinct. She had known that the red headed captain was crazy, but this went beyond intrigue. She had no honor; she was trying to kill them as well as her own men, by flushing them all into space! Would she get away with it, pretend it was an accident? Probably; her daddy was the general here, and from the looks of things he was trying to reconcile with his psychotic little girl. He’d either believe her sugar coated lies, or more likely recognize it for what it was. How he acted from there would depend on what he could keep on his conscience, and how much he liked the Major. Either way, those options left her dead in another twenty to thirty minutes in deep space, a nameless victim of an “accident” that would never see justice for herself or her family…Ty…

It was unlikely the Major had already mailed that envelope, and if it went to that Navy bitch’s possession there was no telling what could happen, but she knew that letter would never be sent. She couldn’t give into the panic or despair; she could not let herself die here. As she went flying through the hatch, suction finally taking her, her mind was whirling, looking desperately at the ship. A hatch, she needed to find a hatch on it, anything, even a garbage hatch. If they could get there, she could pry open the control box with her knife, and rewire the circuits to make the doors open and let them inside. It was a sketchy plan, but it was all she had, and that the moment she needed to keep her mind moving positively, and she clung to that dim hope like a life raft.

Charlie found the Major quickly, and clutched onto his arm, grateful to have found someone, but the look in his eyes stopped her cold. The shear panic and fear she’d felt earlier was in his eyes. That kind of fear in a situation like this, especially when she needed him and his stupid affinity for her real name and overbearing confidence, was deadly.

“Major…Major…Robert! Get a hold of yourself! We've got to get back to the ship, find a hatch, something! If we stay here, do nothing, we’re all dead!” Charlie said, disparately trying to bring him out of the place it had taken remembering her brother to bring her out of.

Roger's felt cold, as if the void of space was sucking the heat from his very bones. His wild tumbling slowed to a very gentle spin, as something collided with him. It interrupted the horrible and fatalistic thoughts of his body floating preserved in space, until he was burned up in a star or during entry of a planetary body's atmosphere. With eyes tainted with panic and anger, he glanced down at his left arm. It was Charlotte and by the way her face was moving behind her mask, she was talking. He couldn't hear her of course, mostly because sound waves can't travel through the vacuum of space but even if they could, he was still hearing earplugs, so his head didn't pop. He didn't see a mirrored gibbering fear in her face, as he expected too, there was something else, something strong.

And he felt shame suddenly flood his being. He was an officer by Buddha's blue balls and trained to operate under any condition (although, floating in open space was never really covered during his classes at the Federation's Infantry Academy) and here he was, acting like a frightened child while some convict was keeping her head. Hanging his head slightly and looking towards the vast moving ship, a plan started to form.

They couldn't reach the hanger again, not at the rate the frigate was moving away from them and even if they did, what good would it do? Those double airlocks wouldn't open up again, not for them. The doors to the hanger would have to be closed first off and that bitch Brianna wouldn't close the doors, not to allow them back inside. Even if they managed to get a control panel open, rewire the door controls and prevent the things from fusing with the airlock when they started tampering, it still wouldn't do any good, save to shoot them back out into space again then the decks beyond the doors decompressed.

However, memories came back to Robert, was he watched the armored plates of the ship slide by. Back when it looked like the 9th Regina Light Infantry was going to be shipped out for service offworld, the regimental officers had been given a briefing on the basics of every navy vessel. One common trait most shared were maintenance hatches, which would allow engineering ratings out onto the hull to perform repairs without a big fuss opening the hanger. If they could find on, they could pop it open, get inside, close it and get dumped inside the ship. Now, they just need to reverse the direction they were spinning in.

Glancing around, Rogers looked that the others, squids, monster and his own convicts. There was nothing he could do for any of them, accept to punish the one responsible for this. He looked down at the knife in his right hand (which he hadn't stabbed himself with by the grace of god). The finally piece of the puzzle fit in place. Switching the knife to his left hand, he used the now free right arm to pull the rebreather unit off his back and press the thing to his chest. Waiting until his back was to the frigate, he stabbed the air canister, took a deep breath and pulled the blade free. A sudden rush of escaping gas propelled him and Charlotte back towards the Private Daniels.

The Armyman grunted as his back bumped against the thick armored skin of the frigate. With a sudden frantic thought, he jammed the knife back into the hole he had punctured in the airtank and held it there, hoping to trap what remaining gas he could. The big breath he had been holding escaped his lungs and he desperately tried to suck in more. What was left was thin and barely could be considered air. He wouldn’t last more then a few minutes like this. As his chest burned, he started to crawl along the hull, pulling Charlotte with him. There had to be a hatch close by, there just had to be.

Luck was with them, there was a hatch nearby and they were heading towards it. The control panel was hidden under a bright orange cover, which seemed to float in a sea of uniform gray. After he popped the thing open, Robert made hand gestures at the thing, his breathing labored and black spots obscuring his vision. For a moment, he closed his eyes and then he was suddenly being pulled down, into the open hatch way. His eyes fluttered open, as he reached up to pull the hatch closed behind them and he looking towards the others that had been thrown out to space.

Alistair managed to pull himself along the metal decking towards the control panels next to the docking doors. Prying off the panel cover he was greeted with a tangles mass of wire and hoses. Given enough time he could find the right combination and bypass the external controls to shut the doors. Problem was that time was in as short supply as the small tank of oxygen that was now supplying his lungs and that wouldn’t be enough to get the job done. Without the hangar doors closed there was no way in hell that the interior safety protocols could even be considered to be overridden.

There simply wasn’t enough time. If he was to die in such a manner he was at least going to satisfy one final desire before he gave up his last breath. He searched the star covered backdrop for his quarry floating among them. It took am moment to realize the significance of the situation as he watched the Major and the convict Charlotte propelled against the flow of debris away from the Private Daniels. They had made it easy they were coming to him.

Alistair felt the cold frigid temperatures of space biting into his flesh. His giant body may well die of hypothermia before it ran out of oxygen provided by the tank strapped to his back. White knuckled he forced his fingers to close tighter around the hilt of the combat blade. With his free hand he groped around the exterior surface of the ship finding a hand-hold from which to secure himself.

Anchoring his enormous frame against the cold metal plates of outer he once again sought to locate his prey. He managed to catch a glimpse of Rogers before he had disappeared completely from view down an open hatchway. The resourceful military bastard had found a way back into the belly of the metal beast. The realization hit the notorious cannibal like a brick. If he didn’t act fast the others would escape and he would die alone.

Without further hesitation he frantically scurried towards closing hatch. Grabbing the twelve inch diameter hand wheel with both hands before it began its travel to lock the metal cap into place he yanked for all he was worth ripping the hatch open once again. With a crazed look in his eye he peered down at the two bewildered occupants of the tiny sanctuary. It was time to put their differences aside and work together or they all were to die for their obstinacy. The question was would they accept his presence or die themselves?

Rogers had been about to lock the hatch in place when the wheel started to turn in his hands. For a moment, he let go in surprise and lost control of the situation again. Before he could do anything, the cap over the opening in the ship’s hull was ripped from the vessel’s skin and there was the giant bastard, his bulk plain to see against the stars. The beast’s eyes were crazed, in a kind of feral desire to live or at least take as many people with him in death.

For a second, the Major thought to pull the knife from the tank of life giving gas and plunging the blade into the monster’s throat. It would solve the current situation after a fashion and get ride of one of the greatest problems this mission had going for it (other then this being a near suicide mission and the lovely Captain Meade). He could hold his breath again and it wouldn’t take more then a simple push of a button to drop them back into the air rich environment of the frigate.

For some reason though, he didn’t. The Army grunt would later try to rationalize it to himself by saying that Alistair had quick hands and the thrust would have been stopped. He also used the argument that the giant still had his knife and longer arms then he did, along with the “high ground” at that moment, an attack would have been futile. Perhaps the true was, he could see a little of himself in the giant, a man betrayed and tossed into certain death.

Muttering savagely to himself (for the sound wouldn’t have carried), Rogers reached up and grabbed Alistair’s shoulders, before pulling the man into the emergency access hatch. As soon as the mass of the giant passed him, the Officer grabbed the wheel and yanked it down, making the seal. Within seconds, atmosphere flooded the little chamber, as gravity pulled the trio down to the hatch on the bottom. Without warning it opened and dumped the three of them into a service corridor.

It isn't everyday you see people you give a crap about tossed into the vast vacuum of space.

This was probably what made the harlot's heart sink as she watched the group get tossed haphazardly out of the safety of the ship. Her face dropped, which garnered an amused reaction from Meade, as she stayed frozen completely unsure how to remedy the situation. Inali whipped around to face Meade, only to turn back and look out the window, her neck turning once more so fast she could have gotten whiplash.

“Wha-what!?” Inali spat out, not quite sure just what she was trying to say. Taking a few steps towards the red headed she beast Inali's mind became more clear, though not quite intelligent enough to think of anything worth saying. “Put them back!” She demanded in her typical bratty demeanor, her eyes shifting towards the button on the doors. This didn't seem to get much of a reaction out of Brianna, who simply continued on with her amused grin.

“Maybe if you asked a little nicer.” The red head retorted in a spiteful tone. The already brusied Inali bit her lip, balling her hands into fists so hard that her knuckles turned white and her nails made indents in her palms. Not thinking, perhaps due to her beating earlier or the shock of the situation at hand(or both), the inmate flung herself at the red head.

A gripping onto a handful of hair the inmate jumped onto Meade and wrapped her legs around her waist. Surprised more than anything, the woman was knocked back as Inali sunk her teeth into her shoulder, her free hand taking a shot at the woman's ribs. In between gasps Brianna managed to collect herself enough to roll over onto the smaller female, pinning both her arms down. Head crashing agains the tiles, Inali let out a whimper just long enough for Brianna to get her shoulder free. For a moment the older woman glared bitterly at the chunk of hair held in Inali's fist before going back to her previous demeanor.

“I'll let them go.” She began, her face inches from Inali's. “But only if you beg.” This only seemed to anger the younger, who had found herself in a situation she'd be hard pressed to get herself out of. Wiggling around beneath Brianna she let out several obscenities. The outburst went on for a moment, filling the room with her frustrated shouts until she stopped to catch her breath.

“Well?” Brianna asked, a cocky smile on her lips. As far as she was concerned, she had won. Inali remained silent, her mouth moving slightly as she sucked in her lower lip and flared her nostrils. And then suddenly, splat! A dark liquid stung Brianna's eyes, causing her to falter enough for Inali to get free. “You little fucking barbaric bitch!” Meade roared, hands going to her eyes as she tried to wip the blood from her vision. Taking advantage of her freedom Inali went to the biggest thing that wasn't nailed to the floor, which in this case happened to be the chair, and hoisted it up over her head.

The chair hit Meade with a a loud crack as one of the legs landed smack dab on the middle of her head, causing her to collapse once more. If she wanted to, Inali could have stopped right there, but she was feeling vindictive that day.

“I don't need to tell you who this is for.” Inali muttered, a small smile on her bloodied lips as she swung the chair again, dropping the makeshift weapon before running to the control panel.

Perhaps she wasn't fast enough, or maybe it was due to the injuries she'd sustained, but either way Meade had gotten to her before she had found her button of choice. Pressing her weight against Inali she restrained her one arm by keeping it behind her back and the other was pinned firmly between herself and the control panel. A frustrated tear or two slipped out of the inmates eyes as she trashed again. A broken arm was far less pain in comparison to the guilt she'd feel if her little mismatched group got killed in space.


“Guards!” Brianna shouted, blood oozing onto the bridge of her nose. “Guards!” She shrieked again, pulling Inali away from the control panel. Inali, who at this point was half acting and half completely and utterly serious about Brianna getting the hell off her, feebly attempted to hit the button with her hand only to be grabbed by Meade.

“Let me go!” She grunted, bucking her legs upwards, and managing to hook one onto the panel. This only further agitated Meade, who kicked her other foot out from under her, causing Inali to slip. However, as pure dumb luck would have it, Inali's foot slid over the shiny square of a button, causing the doors to open once more.

Meade, on the other hand, didn't seem to notice. Mouth open in disbelief for certainly not the first time that day Inali let out a small chuckle, confusing the goons who had take both of her arms.

“What are you laughing at you bitch?” Brianna growled, this time it was her turn to ball her hands up into fists. Standing there, utterly defenseless against any blows thrown her way, Inali put her head down and allowed herself to laugh a second time. This didn't last long however, for Meade had taken the liberty of introducing her fist to her gut.

“It doesn't matter now Freckles.” Inali managed to cough out, spitting more blood out onto the floor.

Rogers rolled to his left, off the tangled pile of bodies. As luck would have it, they came down in the order of Alistair, Charlotte and then himself. In a slightly panicky manner, he tore the mask off his face and took a deep breath, filling his lung with breathable gases. After a few more gasps, he pulled the rest of the emergency equipment off is person and liberated the knife from the oxygen tank.

“Alright” he said, jumping to his feet, his hands held in front of him, “How about a truce Alistair? We both have someone in common we want to kill, why not do it together?”

Relief, astonishment, and anger all flooded Charlie as she and the Major were propelled through space by his punctured air canister. The Major had snapped out of his state of cold panic, and somehow by the grace of god, they’d managed to find a maintenance hatch, and were once again aboard the ship; just the two of them. And from there came her anger; Tony and Valentino were both still floating out there, and in all likelihood were going to die. She was still pissed at both of them, but they were still part of her team, and though she wouldn’t call them friends by any means, she was already taking their impending deaths personally. She was tired of the people around her being murdered, and never finding justice. Well, not this time, no; this time there was going to be blood to pay.

Her thoughts were so dark in that moment, she almost didn’t notice Alistair enter though the same hatch, but when she did, Charlie greeted him with a defensive and resentful stare. And she did resent him, resented him for once again living while better men would die. She was surprised that the Major was even offering to work with him, even with the “the enemy of my enemy” philosophy filling the room, but as long as he kept his pointy teeth pointed in the same direction she’d be pointing her knife, she didn’t overly mind.

“So we gonna just stand around here, or we gonna kill that backstabbing bitch? Inali’s still up there, and there’s no telling what that crazy cunt’s got in mind for her.” Charlie nearly snarled after removing the facemask and all the equipment off but for her knives, her gold green eyes dangerous slits

Finding themselves secured once more within the belly of the Federation ship both men’s reservations were quickly answered. It wasn't what one might expect as Alistair didn't even comment on the officer's proposal before reaching out and accepting the outstretched hand of the Major. He simply chose to move forward pulling his massive frame to his feet with the aid of the other. It wasn’t the best of circumstances and there was still much to resolve between the two. Still, for now the stood upon common ground and their vast differences had been set-aside for the moment.

The opinion of the other in the room offered little to the equation at this point as she flashed a resentful glare at his very presence. “Food for thought.” The savage best mulled over the inspiration in his mind as he pulled off his emergency breathing apparatus sucking in a deep breath of the ship’s oxygen. “I hope she still has that much spunk in her on the occasion when we find ourselves alone.” A delightful urge threatened to override his restraint tot the notion of sinking his teeth into her velvety flesh. It would have to wait along with the other.

“Well, if we are going to pull this off we are going to need to bring more than a knife to this fight. No doubt the back stabbing Captain assumes we are dead. We have the advantage right now. Let’s use it while we still have the element of surprise on our side!”

Without waiting to see if the others understand the plan or had, Alistair hurried out the maintenance corridor cabin, long powerful strides covering the corridors and hatchways swiftly, until he reached the armory. Swinging open the door to the small closet sized storage he surveyed the inventory and prepared to distribute the contents. Several such lockers were scatted about the decks of the ship, so that sailors could arm themselves in case they got boarded. Each one typically contained ten shotguns, four hundred shells, five handguns and either twenty-five clips or ten powercells depending in the age of the vessel. It wasn’t the caliber of the technology he had taken from the Tarnakians during his first attempt at escape but it would do in a pinch.

“Let’s take what we need and pay the Captain our respects”

Rogers had followed on Alistair’s heels, after sheathing his knife and waving Charlotte to come after him, just in case this was some sort of trick. If the giant tried to turn on them while in the tight confines of the corridors, he would catch the weapon (in his hand or chest if need be) and allow the only person he could trust at the moment to finish the treacherous bastard off. This plan however, seeming wasn’t needed as they charged through the thankfully empty maze of maintenance passages. It would be bad for moral if the crew learned (and they would) that an Army officer or his cronies had murdered their way through shipmates, only then to kill their captain. If he was to complete this mission, he would need the crew to be willing to follow his orders, at least long enough to reach Londinium.

When they reached the armory, he selected a Mark IX pulselaser pistol, much like the one that was sitting in his cabin. Before the others could grab weapons, he picked out two more pistols, nine of the powercells and closed the weapon closet. Handing each of his comrades a weapon and their fair share of the powercells, the Major went about loading the pistol he had taken.

The powercell was warm to the touch, a clear sign it was still had a full charge and was roughly the size and shape of a deck of cards. It slide smoothly into the slot in front of the trigger of the Mark IX, which resembled the centuries old Mauser C96 in many respects, save for the signature of that old pistol, the round “broomhandle” grip, as it was more like that of the Colt M911. Of course the weapon was also made of modern metal alloys and synthetic materials.

“No Killing” growled Rogers, as he flipped the power setting to the second, non-lethal setting, “The Captain is an exception. We’ll start looking in the hanger control, I can’t believe that Captain Meade would give up an opportunity to push the button and watch us die herself.”

After watching to make the others had powered down their weapons, Robert took point, as he was the only one that had enjoyed the freedom to roam about the frigate. He was surprised to not find any of the ship’s Armsmen patrolling the corridors, as he thought that the captain would have had the ship in near complete lockdown by now. It would come out later that most of the them had been deployed to the various airlocks along the ship’s hull (not the maintenance hatches though, it had never occurred to the sailors that a grunt might know about those) or two the troop compartment where the rest of the team was stowed.

The only crewmember they came across was a single low ranking sailor, whom had been spending his watch cleaning the corridors of the Federation vessel. The young, fair haired man had tried to run at the sight of them, has the pictures of the inmates had been handed out, incase they tried to take over the ship again but he had been brought down by the Major peppering the back of his legs with low powered, flesh searing laser shots. After a quick pistol-whipping, the man was stashed in the very janitorial closet he had drawn cleaning supplies from.

“Alright” said Rogers, as they neared the door to the hanger control, “On the count of three, we storm the room. Shoot anything that not us and we’ll sort them out after everyone is down.”

Pistol held in his right hand and pointed towards the ceiling, Robert pressed himself against the wall, to the right of the door and rested his elbow against the door control. Taking a steady breath, he started to count.

“One…”
“Two…”
“Three…”

The door hissed open.

In that one look that Alistair gave Charlie, a cold chill swept down her spine. Something about that look promised he had something perverse on his mind, and while she felt very confident on her ability to take care of herself, she was not deluded enough to think she could fight off an insane cannibal that was more than twice her size should he catch her alone and off guard sometime on ship. But that was only if they managed to get themselves out of this pickle, and if the Major was fool enough to give him leave of their next ship. Good thing she would never mistake the Major for a fool, and as far as she was concerned, she was getting no where near Alistair again once this was over, and was well reassured by that fact. She sent back a hard stare in Alistair’s direction that said in no uncertain terms that if he so much as looked at her or the Major wrong during this arrangement, she would happily turn her laser pistol off of stun and onto kill, and there would be an entire cartridge devoted towards the direction of his head.

“No, I don’t suppose that vindictive psycho would.” Charlie agreed as the Major began his run down of orders. The two pistols in her hands were poised and ready as they headed towards the hanger, Charlie behind the Major, and prepared to fight the vindictive bitch.

The weapons acquired from the ship’s locker would afford him little advantage when groped by his enormous paws. Alistair bolted through the sliding door lowering a stiff shoulder into the first sailor as he passed through the door and stepped to the left. Contact made he continued to drive the bewildered sailor backwards into a second armsman before sandwiching the between himself and the ship’s wall.

It was all he could do to restrain himself from finishing the job he started. His clawed hands darted out clenching the raw flesh of the sailor’s throats His teeth flashed as he released as ferocious roar lifting the two well built men from the decking. In one swift motion he slammed the two heads of the guards together and watched them crumple to the floor upon their release. Perhaps it was best that he had not armed himself as the others and even managed to leave the combat knife sheathed at his side.

He could already make out the distinct sounds of laser fire behind him. Here’s hoping that Charlie and the Major were cutting down any opposition behind him as they passed through the narrow opening. Alistair had managed to catch a glimpse of at least three other guards with Brianne stalking a beaten Inali held in their restraint.

The two guardmen in his field of vision restrained Alistair turned his attention towards Brianne and her victim Inali. Fire has already begun to build within the giant’s belly. She had meant to kill him all along. His knuckles cracked as he balled his fists and prepared to exact his revenge.

Rogers waited for a few seconds, after his giant comrade went charging though the open doorway, before entering the hanger control room himself. Anyone with half a braincell (not that he gave most of the Naval Armsmen that much credit) would be paying attention to the maniac, rather then watching the door at that point.

He was proven correct, as the officer stepped inside, anyone who wasn’t already distracted by the cannibal’s entrance, was stunned by his bestial bellowing. With a calm cool, the Major level his pistol at one armsmen, who was bring his shotgun to bare on Alistair’s back, and fired. The atmosphere crackled, as the barrel of his Mark IV belched a red light, the bright laserbolt ionizing the air around it, until the energy slammed into the man’s shoulder. The bullyboy screamed, dropping his weapon, as his uniform briefly burned. The skin where the round hit bubbled, blackened and split, as the muscle underneath cook.

As he felt Charlotte enter the room behind him, Robert put two more shots into the guard, making the man drop to the decking, writhing in agony. Other armsmen started to reacted but couldn’t decide which target to engage, the giant or the shooters. With a more then slightly sadistic glee, he started firing, placing between three and five rounds in each sailor. The smell of burnt skin and hair mingled with the scent of ozone.

Rogers only stopped when he glanced down the sights of his pistol and found he was looking at a battered Inali. Rage flashed across his face, twisting his features into something ugly before smoothing back into his mask. With fires burning behind his dark blue eyes, he pointed his weapon at the guard on the convict’s left arm and fired. The red flash of energy smashed into the armsman’s cheek, burning through the thin layer of tissue and shattered three of the man’s teeth.

Getting beaten up was one of those things Inali just wasn't a fan of. Who was really? She was sure even those leather wearing fetishist didn't enjoy getting punched in the gut, or maybe they did. Inali wasn't going to judge them, especially since with the way Brianne's fist was probably slamming into her already fractured ribs, it just didn't leave any room for judging hypothetical situations. Her vision began to blur both in her good and bad eye as she grunted, almost falling back had it not been for the two guards restraining her. A part of her was ashamed for even getting into such a situation, while the other part was insisting that this instance in no way counted for anything considering she was unarmed and ambushed. Three to one just wasn't a fair fight, especially when the one was already beaten to hell to begin with.

Whatever the matter, Inali didn't initially notice Alistair when he first barged in the doorway, she didn't really notice anything as Meade sent a few knuckles at her cheek. It was only after Meade caught sight of the giant that Inali's head turned to see what had the freckle faced hag so distracted. Noticing the giant in the doorway Inali wasn't all to sure how to feel, a temporary sense of relief washed over her, considering she wasn't getting pummled anymore. However, she never knew what kind of lapse in judgment stunt Alistair would pull, for all she knew the giant might very well kill her in the midst of tearing out the guards throats.

"Alistair." Meade began, apparently unfazed by the dead guard on the floor. "I wasn't expecting you back so soon. . . Well, I wasn't expecting you back at all really." She began, a still smug smirk on her face. It was clear she wasn't ready to accept defeat just yet. This was her ship, she had the home team advantage.

While this was going on Inali had been lucky enough to have one of the guards get shot in the face, by who she didn't quite notice, not like it mattered. What mattered was it gave her time to slip away, pushing all her weight onto the wounded guard who fell to the ground with her. Rolling over, she grabbed his firearm, scrambling back enough to take aim at the other guard and let loose. Considering her overall lack of aim due to the previous events Inali felt the shot wasn't so much good as it was good enough, causing the guard to fall over clenching his sizzling chin. It wouldn't keep him out of the game, it wasn't much more than a graze, but it proved to be a distraction.

"Hey guys, what took you so long?" Inali breathed as she spotted the Major and Charlie, her mouth forming back into it's usual smirk. Spitting out blood onto the ground and trying to fix her hair into something that hid her eye Inali slowly regained her usual composure. "Nice to see you aren't dead." Turning back to Brianne Inali raised her pistol, back up so as to be behind Alistair.

"You know, if you just admit was a horrible human being you are and how I'm better than you in every way, I might not be as tempted to disfigure you right now."

"Fuck you." Meade snarled, her eyes flashing with an unmistakable hate for the convict.

"Wrong response." Inali almost sang, letting her trigger happy finger get only one shot out at the woman. Falling back the Captain let out a screech, clutching one side of her face. The smell of burnt flesh became even more prominent as Brianne fell to her knees, trying to brush the hair off her wounds in vain. "Somehow, I feel like this is a bit poetic, don't you think?" She muttered, a shit eating grin on her face as she began to make her way toward the door, the burnt Captain not leaving her vision. Even if she was on the ground, Inali didn't trust her, not unless she had several more rounds pumped into her.

The red headed woman’s words only served to add fuel to the fires of hatred that now rages within the giant. The smug smirk said it all. She had played him, at which point he really wasn’t sure, but he took exception to the fact he had allowed it to happen. A sore spot he was about to take restitution to resolve.

Even as Alistair lumbered towards his arrogant opponent laser fire continued to crisscross the room. One such beam managed to strike the naval gorilla that had been retraining the battered prostitute providing a brief opening. An opening that the wily young convict quickly turned to her advantage securing a weapon of her own and embedded a burning beam into the chin the bookend to her captivity.

"Nice to see you aren't dead." She spoke taking her place slightly to the rear of the monstrous wall of flesh.

And there it was the two partners in crime side by side once again struggling for survival. Whatever their differencing opinions of the incidents aboard the HMS Triumph she had almost by instinct aligned herself at his hip. The contemptuous vixen at his side wasted no time in exaction a measure of revenge of her own even before Alistair managed to react a single shot marred the freckled white flesh of her assailant and captors face bringing Brianne sobbing to her knees.

Something wasn’t right. For all the Captain’s holier than thou self-righteous outbursts it didn’t seem in her character for her to go out without a fight. What was there to gain by simply giving up? She would lose everything in this failed gambit against the Major and his crew of misfits. Alistair could not see a woman such as this accepting a life of exile so readily. It was then he noticed something distinctly out of place.

Clasped within her hands was the small incinerary device she attempted to obscure. Also between her knees lay the pin and lever already discarded from the currently live grenade. Such a blast in close proximity to the observation glass looking out over the hangar would have a devastating effect. With the bay doors already open in her earlier attempt to rid the ship of the Major the safety glass was the only thing between them and another free floating experience in the vacuum of space. The insane woman had no intent on living. She was going to take them all to the grave with her.

“GRENADE!!”

There was very little hesitation in the lumbering giant’s mind as he cupped both Brianne’s hands and the live grenade within his massive paw-like hand. He was already as good as dead given his past indiscretions. While he wouldn’t mind seeing the Major and the traitorous Charlie go down with them he wasn’t willing to sacrifice Inali in the process. Not again. He made his choice.

With one fluid motion he lifted the lightweight officer off the ground holding her close to his body wrapped in a secure bear hug. Pushing past the curvy battered prostitute and the others that had accompanied him into the small room he hastily broke though the open doorway and down the narrow corridor. Alistair had little idea just how much time he would have before the tiny hand held bomb went off. He only knew he wanted to put as much distance between it and the others as possible. He was several steps out of the control room and around the first corner when the inevitable took place.

Boom

Everything had been going just fine. Inali was rescued, the goons were down and the honorable captain had been brought to her knees. Then the giant had bellowed but a single word and spelled doom for everyone in the control room and probably for anyone in that section of the ship. No one save the most insane terrorist would use an explosive aboard a spaceship.

Rogers followed Alistair out of the control room, no more then a few steps and watched as the big man disappeared around the corner. Unconsciously he touched the hatch controls, sealing the two women convicts inside with the injured goons. Within half a breath of the door hissing shut, the corridor was filled with a rapidly advancing wall of flame.

However, before he was cooked, the Major was knocked to the floor, landing on his back. Because of the tight confines of the ship’s corridors, the explosion’s seismic wave was condensed into something that hit harder then a heavy weight boxer and save the life of everyone involved. The only burns the army officer would suffer was a small, second degree on the tip of his beakish nose.

With a moan, Robert rolled over and pushed himself up on his hands and knees. Standing up, he slowly walked towards the corner where the pair of his least favorite people had disappeared. The once gray corridor was charred and the only illumination was coming from red emergency lights. Alarms blared dimly in the distance.

As he rounded the corner, Rogers was surprised to find both Alistair and Meade, still alive. They lay side by side, with the top of Alistair’s skull resting against the hull. Both were burned, the Captain on her left side and the convict on his right. Raw red flesh stood out from the blackened edges of clothing. Almost half of Brianne’s red hair was gone, replaced with thin layer of soot. When medical teams arrived a few minutes later, they found the Major still standing over the pair, his pistol moving from one forehead to the other and a look of indecision on his face.