Eventually the small group finally reached Mach I. Obviously, Vindril took a breath of relief at the sight of the familiar sight of the shop. And how could he not? The journey to reach it had been one of the hardest things he had subjected his body to. And by the way his companions sort of dragged their tired bodies around, they were pretty much in the same shape. If the made-up thrusters had managed to carry them out more or less to the halfway point, they had been forced to walk the remaining distance the old-fashioned way: by foot. Needless to say, moving that capsule at scorching temperatures literally worn them down to the bone. But they still did it, damn it! Take that, fucking rock of a planet!

However, they still couldn’t relax. Not in the least.

As the shop’s silhouette started to became clearer the more they got near it, leaving behind them a trail in the soft and hot sand, reality hit them in all its harshness.

Vindril cursed and laughed maniacally at the same time. Of course the Empire had sent guards to surround the shop. Honestly, he wasn’t even surprised by the obvious fact that someone had clearly discovered that he had a ship in it, and that they were going to use it in order to escape. He was even so sure that nobody had spoken about it outside their private conversations that he just knew that the Empire had controlled their every movement.

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.” exclaimed Sorin. His usual lazy demeanour had been replaced by a more confronting, and much more direct one. “Tell me this is a fucking joke. There’s no way something like this is happening.”

“No. I fear not. It’s true dammit.”

“When the two of you are done with your little jest, let me know.” said Ar, their usual neutral tone a bit more agitated than what normally was. “We have to figure out a way to sneak in there.”

“Well, no shit. I figured as much.”

“Good.” answered Ar, retrieving something from their belt. “At least you’re not as dumb as you look.”

“D-dumb? Did you just call me-.”

Vindril stared at Mach I, his eyes scanning left and right to spot all the enemies he could find. He blatantly ignored the two of them, preferring instead to focus his energies in doing something productive, rather than waste away what little patience he had left in quenching down another pointless argument. He just hoped those two would resolve those issues they were clearly having sooner or later. Preferably sooner. He didn’t know how long he could stomach a thing like that without losing his temper after all.

Sighing at the absurdity of it all, he focused once more to the shop; or to be more precise, to find a way in it. He soon realized how…limited his options were. The front entrance, the one he knew very well, was guarded. He didn’t know it for sure, as he had not laid his eyes on it, but that was the most logical course of action. So he quicky discarded that. Secondly, he could try a side entrance, if there were any to begin with. It was true he was somehow familiar with Mach I and his layout; but to clearly know where all the possible entrances were located around the kilometres long compound? Well…that’s another thing entirely.

Suddenly, as his hands trailed over his back, which had giving him some trouble after the last forced trek they had done under the scorching and relentless sun rays, he recalled the minuscule thing Yurian had given him before all that wasps’ nest had exploded. Without missing a beat, he grabbed the small transmitter and hastily pressed the button to fire it up, which was located somehow on the back. A faint hum, so faint that it was barely perceptible, appeared shortly after.

“Yurian…” said Vindril, pressing down the only other button available on that thing. By logical conclusion, that must have been the one that connected it to the particular wave length it had been connected to.

No answer came. So Vindril quickly called his friend’s name once more. “Yurian…Yurian!”

“Shhhh!” silently yelled Yurian. “What the fuck are screaming for?! Do you want me to get caught by those assholes?!”

“Has the Empire gone inside Mach I?” he asked. He must have sounded completely surprised, for even those two companions of his stopped their bickering immediately, only to surround him in a circle.

“What the hell is that? I’ve never seen one of those before…” asked Sorin intrigued.

“…A transmitter. An older model, probably tuned to a certain wave length that hasn’t been in use since a long time. Congratulation, you’ve just signalled the Empire our position.”

Vindril had enough. Perhaps it was a mix of fatigue and pain that made him so grumpy, but he had enough nonetheless. He even had mustered up enough energies to lash out at them, even if he wouldn’t have accomplished anything concrete in doing so; but Yurian, as it was on most times, spoke first.

“All of you, shut the fuck up! I don’t know who the hell are you two, but you’re getting on my nerves. Vindril, listen to me.”

A deafening silence, broken only by the light gusts of wind that was howling weakly on the hot sand, fell on them. Fortunately, if Yurian was the one that had created that uncomfortable situation, he was also the one that fixed it.

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“…Look, we don’t have time to lose on this shit. Hell, I’m risking my neck here by doing this. So shut up and listen, ‘cause I’m not going to repeat myself.”

Vindril’s brows furred. Yurian risking his neck? Now that was something he couldn’t ever picture, no matter how much he tried to. In his mind, that man with eyes the colour of the sea was so resourceful that forcing him in any kind of risky situation was just outside the realm of possibilities. He also realised that if that was the case, then things were dire indeed…. or where they?

“…Then what the hell are we supposed to do?”

“There’s an entrance. It leads into a long tunnel I’ve built many years ago as a sort of ace up in the sleeve in case I needed to vacate the place in a hurry. It’s one of the many, but is also safest one.”

“What are you talking about?” he asked confused. “What tunnel?”

“Don’t interrupt me. As I was saying, there’s a tunnel. It’s located near the north east of the compound, right beside a giant rock. Wait there. I’ll send someone to meet you.”

“Wait? Wha-”

“I’ve got to go. See you later.”

Vindril tried to stop him from leaving him like that, but it was too late. Yurian had closed off the communications.

“I don’t know who the hell was that, but I already don’t like him.” said Sorin. “Do we trust…whoever that was?”

Vindril shrugged. “You can trust Yurian. You have my word. Will we be able to find that tunnel? Honestly, I don’t a clue. But what other choice do we have?”

Yes. What other choice indeed…

//////

“You look like shit.”

Vindril groaned. Standing there in front of him, right inside the tunnel’s entrance Yurian had directed them to, there was Jarik. The smirk that was currently plastered on his rough looking face, beyond the thick beard that had grown since the last time he had seen him, was making his hands sweat. Ohhh, how much he wanted to make that maddening thing disappear from his face…

Just a quick punch to the face and he could calm down. Well, sort of. He had to reach his ship, board it with his “crew”, turn it on, and pray that he would reach space before anyone could stop him. All the while hoping that everything would run smoothly. Ah! Easy!

…Shit…

“Well, you would look horrible too if you had to cross that fucking desert land on foot, all the while carrying this thing behind you.” said Vindril. With a flick of his head he pointed towards the cryocapsule they had carried till there with lot of difficulties. He could have cursed everything and everyone his gaze landed upon, but chose to stay silent instead.

“Why do you-” tried to say Jarik, but ultimately stopped. “You know what? I don’t even want to know. I’ve already got my hands full dealing with all the bullshit you’ve unleashed on this place. Shit.”

“…Is it that bad?”

If looks could have killed, Vindril would have dropped dead on the spot. “That bad? It’s a complete mess, that’s what it is. And you’re the one at fault. Anyway, come inside. Quick! The sooner you leave this planet, the better it is for everybody.”

“AH!” exclaimed Sorin. “No objection from me on that.”

“Good. Then move it!”

As they slowly made their way down the short staircase that led underground, they did so while balancing the cryocapsule on their backs. Fortunately, the stretch had been a short one, or Vindril feared he would have found himself folded in half after all the weight. No jokes, that thing was the heaviest thing he had ever lifted in his entire life. And he sincerely hoped he would never repeat the experience again.

Having said that, how were they supposed to carry that thing to the other side of the compound? He would have rather pointed his beloved Mary to his head and pressed the trigger than carry that thing by hand, if that was even possible; and he rather doubted it.

Vindril looked around in order to find anything to carry that damned capsule. Even if he was technically still outside the perimeter of Mach I, he hoped to find a cart, or anything that could have carried that thing without any issues. He looked to the right, and then to the left. The cold light that was coming out of the long series of lamps mounted on the ceiling of the tunnel, which was covered in a thick layer of something dark and metallic, made the task extremely difficult. Vindril didn’t understand the reason behind such a coverage, but Jarik, who had just sealed tight the entrance behind him, quickly noticed his stare and explained the reason behind it. Apparently, that was not a single material, but a series of foils of varying thickness. And always according to Jarik, it served to conceal the presence of the tunnel from any snoopers, imperial or otherwise. He was half tempted to ask for more information, but quickly decided that finding a mean of transportation had a much higher priority on his to do list.

He didn’t have to wait for long.

Jarik typed in something into the bracelet he was wearing around his left wrist (Vindril didn’t manage to make out what the hell had that man just typed in.), making a brief sharp sound emanate from it. Moments later, a robotic helper appeared out of nowhere, as if materializing from the same walls that surrounded them. A silly though of course. Matter couldn’t be simply made to appear or disappear at will. Either there was, or there wasn’t. There was no middle ground to be found. Simple as that.

The droid, ignoring everything and everyone, detached itself from the small flatbed that had been attached to his bulky frame, rattling his iron limbs to their very core. Then, without uttering a single, metallic syllable, it hastily made its way towards the capsule, gripping it hard. In the few seconds that followed, his powerful arms and his perfectly engineered frame moved the heavy thing down the dusty soil, raising a cloud of dust that made everyone cough in protest. Vindril half cursed that soulless being. Couldn’t it move the damned capsule without covering everyone in that dust? Why had the roof undergone that treatment, and the floor instead had been left as it was? He just couldn’t understand the thought process behind such a decision. But he also had to admit that an escape tunnel as the one they were currently standing in wasn’t thought out to be comfortable, or perfectly furbished. Its sole purpose was to ensure the safety and the escape of anyone who found themselves needing such a last option. On that regard, Vindril couldn’t voice any complaint. Far from it. Were it not for the existence of such a thing, he really didn’t know how the hell would he have gotten inside. Thanks, Yurian.

When the droid had finished loading the capsule on the iron flat bed, he reattached itself, only to silently signal everyone to board too. Vindril frowned. Were they supposed to reach…whatever the hell was at the other side of tunnel on a phantom cart trailed by some droid? He sighed. Better get it over with than waste precious time. A sentiment that was shared by the others too, considering that they simply opted to board without a single complaint. Ahhhh. What a thing to do…