hard, disabling the mechanism that would draw the undercarriage inside. “Oh I think they'll notice that.”
Hernando Ramirez
The ship was massive, he'd only been aboard something as large when he was in the infantry. The drop ship he served on was huge, but all he really saw was the gymnasium, the berth, drop bays, disciplinary room, the showers and the head. Grunts didn't get to see much of anything else. Despite that, he wasn't quite out of his element.
He was still ducking behind corners, running through hallways, firing off at a pair of pursuers trying to gun him down. That was the most familiar thing about the situation and it was all he really needed.
It was becoming evident that men knew just as much about where they were as he did; little to nothing. They were new aboard, so the advantage of familiar ground belonged to no one. He came to a skidding stop at the end of a hallway and ducked around the corner, looking for doorways. The lighting was dim, the corners were dusty, but the ship was very well constructed and there was a bulkhead every twenty meters. It was built to an older standard, meant to last. Any wall was good cover, their ammunition couldn't penetrate but neither could his.
The map he had downloaded from the ship computer wasn't as detailed as he would like, the security built into the computer didn't allow labels to appear and he wasn't an engineering genius like Finn, so he couldn't tell the crew quarters from the galley. From the looks of it there was a lift at the end of the hallway that lead up into the rear of the ship and the doors between lead to four large sections.
He peeked his head out from the corner and glimpsed the pair who had been chasing him. A shot narrowly missed and to his dismay there was no time for him to make it to the lift. He couldn't guarantee that the doors would open or close fast enough to provide cover.
Instead he took the few steps required to get into the nearest room, only the doors didn't open. He ran to the next and fired down the hallway at the pair of security officers. They were using the corner for cover, and firing wildly around the bend without looking.
The hall was sealed off, and he took one last chance, rolling across the floor to the elevator doors. The panel to one side lit up, indicating that a car was on its way. He got as low as he could and fired back, hitting the corner the pair were firing from and firing just past, trying to intimidate them into not risking their hands or forearms as they stretched out, firing blindly.
With a glance upward he could see that the ceiling was completely sealed. Other than a few pipes and heavily insulated cables there was nothing, no panels, hatches or other ways out. One of the guards tried to peek and take an aimed shot at him. Ramirez caught him squarely in the forehead. The light energy deflected off the man's vacsuit, but the initial heat must have done the job. The guard slumped to the floor, motionless.
The elevator doors parted and he backed inside. The second security officer took several shots at him and just as the doors closed one caught him above the right hip. Ramirez fell to the ground and checked the burn. It was more painful than the shot he had taken in the leg, but he could move.
“Finn, I'm out unless I can find pain killers, something,” he said, breathing raggedly. He reached up to the control panel and pressed the top level button then the rest. “Finn, do you hear me?”
“Yes, I'm looking. Are you okay?”
“I took a hit. I'll probably live but I'm out of the action. Can you see where I am?”
“In the lift?”
“That's me.”
“Okay, there's an emergency station just outside on the fourteenth level.”
“Fantastic, anyone there?”
“Nope, like most of the ship it's pretty much empty. Now that you mention it, there's automation all over the place. It's like the Triton was rigged so a hundred people could run it.”
“Interesting,” Ramirez said while grinding his teeth together. The pain in his side was so intense he saw spots as he stood up on the opposite leg and cancelled all the floor requests except for the fourteenth.
“Sorry, you probably don't want to hear me go on.”
“No, keep talking, it distracts me from feeling like someone's slowly sawing me in half,” he tried to take a deep breath but was rewarded with stabbing pain. “How is Agameg doing?”
“He's stopped in the brig, he's been there a while but outside the cells.”
“I've managed to become the brig watchman. Have they started moving people from the Samson yet?” Price asked in a hushed whisper.
“Nice work buddy!” Ramirez commented. The lift arrived on the fourteenth floor and he struggled out of the car and into the hallway. The emergency medical kit was just a couple meters away but it seemed much further. He steeled himself, ground his teeth together and moved as quickly as he could, falling against the emergency medical station. He cried out involuntarily in response to the sudden pressure on his middle.
“I'm going to help Ramirez,” Price said.
“Stay there! I'll be okay.”
“I'm sorry, I heard you and assumed.”
“I'm getting treatment,” he replied as he activated the emergency station. “Well, self medicating I hope.” A bed came out of the wall and he leaned on it. “I'll try to keep it down next time.” Hurriedly he looked through one of the drawers and found a package with a green cross on it. The universal symbol for pain killers. The package came undone easily and relief was instantaneous as he injected himself with whatever was inside.
“That guard is taking the elevator!” Finn warned.
“Dammit!” Ramirez rifled through the drawer for a moment, then just took a hand full of packages and limped down the hallway. “Always running out of time. Any way for you to stop the elevator?”
“I don't have that kind of control.”
He turned towards the next doorway and found it sealed. “What the hell? How much of this ship do they actually use?”
“What?”
“None of these doors are opening,” he complained as he crossed the hall to another.
“I can't access door controls for that area.”
Ramirez looked around, he had no cover. “Well, I'll see you real soon if I'm lucky Agameg,” he griped as he dropped his gun and looked through the medical packages for anything that could help. “Hey, what does a blue and green cross mean?”
“I think that will increase your rate of recovery,” Agameg replied.
“Like nanobots?”
“No, chemically. Didn't you take emergency medical training?”
“Sure I did, fifteen years ago and five sectors away. Okay, here goes,” He injected himself with the six ounces of dark red fluid. The lift doors started opening and he held his hands up. Luckily, the security officer wasn't overly trigger happy. “I surrender!” Ramirez called out before falling to the floor, unconscious.
Agameg tried not to look worried as Ramirez was delivered to the brig on a hovergurney.
“Bastard shot Berman and jumped into a lift. Open cell five,” the guard ordered.
Agameg pressed the door control and watched the cell open.
The guard pushed the gurney inside and rolled Ramirez off onto the floor unceremoniously. “Injected himself with an emergency stasis dose right before I caught him. Strangest thing I've ever seen.”
“What?” Agameg slipped.
The guard looked right at him. “Yup, he'll be out for at least eight hours. Probably feel better than any of us when he wakes up too,” he kicked Ramirez before pushing the gurney out of the cell. “Close it up.”
Agameg complied.
“You look better. Feeling okay now?” Asked the guard.
“Much better, thank you.”
“Got a frog in your throat?”
Agameg didn't understand and cocked his head. “I don't think so.”
“Ah, you just sound a little different, probably just a bug.”
