This Chapter is a bit short but I already have Chapter 9 almost finished.
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Irish didn’t know what woke him up until he heard Laya’s voice in his head, ‘You have an emergency message.’ Irish rubbed the sleep and confusion of not waking up in his quarters out of his eye’s. Yellow lights were flashing over head proclaiming a yellow alert. ‘Chief must of had the Captain drop us out of Hyperdrive.’ Irish told Laya, ‘Laya please display the message.’ Laya replied speaking to his mind, ‘I can’t relay information you haven't seen.’ Irish was still mentally exhausted so he forgot Laya had limits, unlike the Laya of his Battle-space.
Since Irish didn’t have his data-pad he used the cells internal interface that was in-place for entertainment of the inmate of the cell. Typing in his link codes so Laya could excess it remotely. ‘Laya display the message.’
The message displayed on the cells terminal. It was text only from the Chief from a unknown terminus, ‘Hermano, if you can get your ass out of that brig. Theirs a mutiny going on. We need some help, here. Im safe for now but not for long. The Skippers dead. Commander Bosick is apart of the mutiny.’
Irish sat straight up in the bunk. ‘What the FUCK. Worse day ever.’ He looked over at the bars in his cell. ‘Nope not getting through those.’ Then he spotted his Battlesuite. ‘God damn brilliant, I left the suite open.’ If he would have closed up and secured the suite the security lockout would have engaged.
‘Laya can you still remote excess the X4 Battlesuite from here?’ Irish asked with his mind. She responded, ‘Yes, I can. Not many of the functions will operate unless it’s connected to the your brain port.’
Irish smiled saying allowed, “NOW I’M GOING TO BE ABLE TO RELEIVE SOME STRESS. By destroy some bastard mutineers.” Speaking in his mind to Laya he said, ‘Laya all I need you to do is move the suite over here and bend these bars back so I can get out. Even with minimum operations you should be able to do that. Can’t you?’
Laya paused a moment and the battlesuite still being opened, slowly started to moved over to the bars as Laya said, ‘Yes, I can do that.’ It half minute for the suite to move over to the bars showing how limited Laya was with remote excess or controlling the suite herself. With a screech the suit bent the cell bars back. It was extremely slow compared to how fast the suite could move but it was quick enough.
Irish squeezed through the bars and squirmed his way into the Battlesuite. The suite was never fully shut down into secure mode so he didn’t have to wait for it to power up. He immediately thought of talking to Chief but the com network was down. ‘Laya whats going on with the coms?’
She replayed, ‘Coms are locked out for certain crew by the orders of Commander Bosick according to the ships computer.’
Frustrated Irish asked, ‘Well how the hell did the Chief send me a message than?’
‘After seeing the text routing properties I can say with that Chief Engineer Rodgers sent the message on a private sub-channel using the power conduits to pulse the message,’ She said only making him more frustrated.
‘Laya, GOD DAMIT, connect me through that sub-channel,’ Irish screamed inside his own head.
Laya calmly replied, ‘I can only connect you through with text.’
‘Do so now, quickly’ Irish waited a couple of seconds until Laya told him to speak. She would be translating his thoughts to text.
[‘Chief are you still their? If so tell me your situation? What’s going on and who do I trust? I’m in my battlesuite and about to head to the armory for ammunition,’] Irish thought and Laya translated it to text.
Text came back, [“Your in your battlesuite? The Bosun and a few others made it to the hanger-bay and are holding out their against the mutineers. They only have the Bosun’s gun holding back the mutineers at the entrance door. They already have the side doors welded shut but can’t reach the main door. The Bosun's wounded but their holding out. Bones is their with them keeping the Bosun stable. No good on the armory. They already have locked that down. Get down to the hanger bay and get off the ship with the rest I’m going to blow this baby. You don’t have much time Commander Bosick and his flunky’s are almost done cutting through the hatch to Engineering. Hurry theirs only 20 minutes till the reactors overheat. I locked out the ejection safety’s.”]
Irish immediately start sprinting towards engineering at 45km hour ignoring Chief’s instructions. He didn’t slow around corners he just smashed into them using the walls to help him quickly change direction like a ping-pong-ball. The sound of him smashing along the corridors must have alerted Commander Bosick because him and 5 crewmen with him already had their armory issued autorails pointing down the corridor he was coming from. Two of them had simple light power armor, standard issue for the Ravengers crew. Irish hadn’t yet seen the merc crew in combat before but he wasn’t impressed so far. They were stupid enough to not switch from scatter shot when they seen him coming in a battlesuite. Their shots did nothing. It didn’t even scratch the optical paint that much. Irish was still bounding at 45km as he slammed into the group pulping the three without armor just by his speed alone. Irish and the group became tangled into a mass of limbs, flesh and blood. The two in the Light power armor Irish tore apart in seconds. The strength and speed of his Battlesuite made ripping apart the lighter armor feel like ripping tinfoil. One of them was now missing a head and the other Irish hit so hard on his breastplate that it caved in on the man mutilating most of his internal organ around the punching blow.
Irish was hit hard from the back by multiple impacts fallowed by small explosion detonations. Turning he saw Commander Bosick standing their sending his rifle through reloading. He must of had only a few explosion rounds and no doubt trying to load armor piercing rounds. The problem he didn’t understand was he had only a 10mm railgun rifle. His suite can handle armor piercing rounds up to a single 20mm in the same area and multiple 15mm round into the same area. 10mm armor piercing will just gouge the crap out of his armor.
Irish rushed forward before the commander could reload and smashed him in the face plate of his power armor. It sent the Commander sprawling a couple of meters onto his back. All the Commander could think was, ‘Damn that FUCKING WHORE, she said not to worry about Irish.’ Commander Bosick’s power suit must have been a more top of the line model because his helmet was only slightly dented. Irish wasn’t waiting around though and he went straight for the kill while the Commander was still dazed from the first hit. Irish quickly brought his foot down hard on the Commander chest. Irish reached down and with all the strength of the suite set at one third power, he twisted the Commanders helmeted head right off of the power suites frame and his torso. Muscle tissue hung from the severed head as blood dripped to the floor, he tossed it away like trash, down the corridor.
Irish messaged Chief, [‘Chief I’m outside engineering come on out or let me in.’]
A message came back, [“How do I know its you Hermano?”]
Irish thought about that for a second, [‘We used carbon stenciling in the exoskeleton of my armor so that even if a piece fractures it will still hold together. Most suits don’t use carbon stenciling because it’s far more difficult and expensive to repair so most, not even the military's use it.’]
The Engineering hatch opened and Chief walked out saying, “Come on we have to get off this ship.”
Irish shook his armored head, “No I got this suit and now I can use their ammo. We can probably take back the ship.” As long as rail gun ammo was the same size or small than the caliber of his mounted railguns the magnetic rails would still fire them. He could even use other metallic items as long as they were the right size and balanced enough for an equalized shot along the rails.
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The Chief pointed towards the engine room, “No, no ones getting this ship now. I was planing on going down with the ship. I locked out the controls on the reactor and then I smashed every single console and port in engineering. It would take us two hours minimum to reverse what I’ve done. Destroying allot easier then fixing. Come on grab some ammo and lets head to the hanger-bay to help the others. You go on ahead and clear a path for me. We can’t lose the hanger-bay.” Chief bent over and picked up three rifles slinging them over his shoulder then picking up a fourth while stuffing his utilities with ammo.
Irish went over to the Commanders body and collected his ammo loading his 15mm ammo container on his right upper arm. He picked up the remaining rifle latching onto a magnetized spot on his back when he turned it on the magnet by thinking so. He then looked over at Chief real quick, “Chief you ready? I want you following as close as possible.”
Chief nodded and Irish took off from 0 to 45 kph within a couple of seconds making the floor screech loudly as he charged towards the hanger-bay.
Eight crewmen were trying to force their way into the bay as single shot rang out towards the group trying to get in. They auto fired into the bay trying to take down whoever held Bosun’s pistol. This time they didn’t hear Irish coming because of the rate of fire they sent into the hanger. Irish still wanted to relieve some stress of a fucked up day. He decided to save ammo and charged the group. Non of this group had power armor so Irish set about ruthlessly slaughtering them. However, one of them set off a frag grenade while Irish smashed into him. The man must have been in the motion of throwing it into the hanger before Irish smashed into him. The explosion lifted Irish off the ground battlesuite and all and slammed him into the wall. The suite ended up being fine but the impact on the wall dazed Irish slightly. The shock-gel padding couldn’t compensate for everything. By the time he got up Chief was already running around the corner of the corridor. He walked up to Irish who was still getting to his knees and shaking out the cobwebs in his head. Chief asked looking around at and trying to avoid the gore, “You alright Hermano?”
Irish finally stood up amongest the ribbons of flesh, bones and brains coating the floors, walls and ceiling of the entrance into the hanger, “Yeah Im alright Chief. I think we did a good job on this battlesuite. You go ahead and help the guys in the bay. I’ll guard this door. Send someone to come collect these weapons.” Chief yelled into the hanger-bay telling them he was coming in so no one would shoot him.
Irish had his sensors already turned to full as he began picking up rifles, grenades and ammo, along with anything else that was still undamaged from the carnage and placing them inside the hanger-bay doors. When Spacer 3rd Class Brighton came to the door. She began picking up weapons and slinging them over her shoulder. Irish asked her before she could leave, “Miss Brighton how many people do we have left in their?”
Miss Brighton responded, “Sir, altogether including you and Chief we have nine people.”
Irish instructed her, “Okay, tell Chief to get the two combat shuttles prepared. Have everyone that can still function normally scour the hanger bay clean of everything useful and pack it into the two shuttles. If it doesn’t fit inside strap it to the outside. Send two people back here to guard this door.”
Miss Brighton questioned Irish, “Sir, the combat shuttle don’t have Hyperdrive, Shouldn’t we try and fit everyone into the other ships.”
Irish snapped at her, “DON’T QUESTION MY ORDERS! Go tell the others what I said including Chief. Were to far out on the rim of the solar system, months away from anything by even hyperdrive. No one would last a week in the Peniace's and the fighters. Just do as I say and if Chief has a problem with it tell him to come to me. Now stop wasting time and go.” She responded to the affirmative saluting then running off back into the bay. The weapons on her back clacking together as she hurried.
Irish knew with the help of Laya as a reminder, that their was food and water in the shuttles but only enough to last a week for nine people between the two of the shuttles. He had to make a run to the galley. When two crew came up to the door with weapons Irish didn’t wait, “guard the door, ill be back shortly.” Irish took off at a full one third powered sprint.
It took less than a minute to make it to the galley. He was only looking for crates of rations. He never had a reason to look before. It took another minute to find them. He looked at the timer Laya idiomatically set when Chief gave him the time till the reactors would go critical. He had just under 5 minutes. He hoped the Chief had the Hanger door open already. Irish picked up two large crates of rations and began making his way back.
By the time he got back the inner airlock was already opening. Chief was waving Irish over to one of the shuttle when he noticed 7 blips on his sensors appear down the corridor leading to hanger bay. He yelled to the Chief, “Get both shuttle’s in the airlock and start cycling them. I’ll be right back.” Irish tossed the crates in the back of the shuttle Chief was in almost taking the Chief out in the process.
Making his way quickly to the corridor Irish sent 10 rounds down it towards the blips. He killed two and he almost froze when he saw that one of his round tore off Scarlet legs. Non of them were wearing power armor. He hadn’t known she was apart of the mutiny. He was in a way hoping she was with the shuttle and in another way hoping she was already dead. The rest of the remaining mutineers scrambled back around ta corner.
Irish dashed for the inner bay doors that were cycling shut. Barely making it under the massive airlock bay door as it closed. He rushed into the same shuttle Chief was in. He still had the back ramp open, waiting for him. The ramp door quickly closed behind him as he rushed in trying to be careful not to damage anything with his battlesuite. Irish was still not used to the armor and had needlessly exerted himself while using the armor, sweaty and out of breath, he huffed out,
“Chief can you emergency release the outer bay doors?”
Chief smiled nodding his head, “Yeah, I can and would have already if we weren't waiting for you. I was just cycling us through to give you time.” Chief pressed a button on his data-pad and the to shuttles shot out of the airlock into space from the explosion decompression of the airlock.
Irish asked, “Chief how far do we need to be away from the ship before it goes boom?”
Chief reassured Irish, “Don’t worry hermano. We only need to be about 100km away and we got plenty of time.”
Irish walked into the cockpit had them pull up a course towards the station they were already headed to. Max burn, then drift for about three weeks was the plan. He told the pilot to bring us within 50m of the other shuttle when both shuttles changed course and to pass the word to the other shuttle.
Irish sat on a bench next to Chief, “Were going to have to do an inventory check for both shuttles. We got most the food here so eventuality im going to have to go EVA to get them more rations over in the other shuttle. How will the life support hold up for three weeks?”
Chief patted Irish on an armored shoulder saying, “Life support will be fine and looking at the rations you brought us we should be fine for a whole month. You won’t have to go EVA either. Once the ships are drifting will have this one dock port hatch to port hatch with the other.”
Irish looked at the time. It was a minute and a half left till the Ravenger would blow. He was surprised when he received an ominous video message from Scarlet. Her face was in pain, allot of pain as she grunted out, “Irish I forgive you for blowing off my leg.” She looked pale as she shivered, “I never meant for you to see me like that. I didn’t want to hurt you. I was just doing my job. You won’t believe me when I tell you, your were the only one aboard that wasn’t a job for me but you probably won’t believe that... Please say something” The camera she was using fell away as she lost strength. Irish stayed silent not knowing what to say to that. Scarlet continued, “T-this... game is not just a game. Its far more than that. It will effect everything. Y-your smart enough to f-figure that out soon... Enough. I do care.............” The timer ran out and the Ravenger blew up making his connection with Scarlet terminate.
She died aboard the Ravenger but Irish knew she would respawn in her battle-space. ‘What the heck was she talking about?’ Even though he shouldn’t care, he wondered what else she was about to say. ‘Maybe the whore was delirious. She was spouting a bunch of nonsense.’
Irish was physically, mentally and emotionally drained. He needed to take a break from the game for a bit so he told the Chief, “Chief, I need three day’s to get my head screwed on tight. Just keep... keep the ships on course for that time. I still be here but I won’t if you know what I mean. I’ll be out of it. You’ll be in Command until than. Ill help when need but I’m shutting off my brain for now. I should be good to go in about three days.”
Even though Chief technically out ranked him, Chief wasn’t a Command Officer. That left Irish in charge. He never did ask about what happened to the Skipper. Irish needed a break from the game so before Chief could ask him what he was talking about Irish logged out.
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