Chapter 19. Easy Money
I woke up with a start. I asked Sherlock to let me sleep for no more than 6 hours because I didn’t want to waste more time than absolutely necessary. Between showering, eating, and talking with Tiff, I figured I would lose about eight hours all in.
“Sherlock, did I oversleep?” I asked with a little bit of concern.
“No, Captain. It has only been five hours and fifty-seven minutes. I would not allow you to sleep past your scheduled wake-up time; otherwise, what kind of assistant would I be?” Sherlock said with an unusually pleasant tone.
“So, now you’re my assistant? What happened to me being a dirty monkey who doesn’t deserve the privilege of wearing the precious Havok Bringer armor?” I asked as I sat up on the cot and rubbed the sleep from my eyes.
“Oh, Captain, I believe we may have gotten off on the wrong foot. After all, If Tiffantrimore Clarivox holds you in high regard, then who am I to think less of you?” Sherlock said, “I believe this relationship can be mutually beneficial. I also think you have a worthy cause, so I will do my utmost to assist you with your mission.”
“Well, that is mighty fine of you Sherlock. I am gonna need help and it looks like it’s just you and me,” I replied.
“I am gonna touch base with Tiff, and then we can head out to try and get off this first floor. Now that we have an idea of where to go, we can try to push through the rest of this floor. Hopefully, we don’t run into anything too unexpected along the way.” I said, “I'm gonna grab another quick shower first since I don’t know how long it will be before we get back to another safe room.”
I stumbled out of the cot and toward the small bathroom/shower area. I was a little disappointed when I realized that I hadn’t changed my clothes. I had been wearing my uniform from the Bloodhound when I was transported to the tower. It crossed my mind how well I had acclimated to wearing an entire uniform under the battle suit. At first, I found wearing the uniform under the armor uncomfortable, but I barely noticed it anymore.
“Oh, feel free to walk around in the nude, Captain. There is nothing that I would rather see first thing in the morning than your pathetic human genitalia,” Sherlock said in a disgusted tone, “If we are going to be bunking together, could you at least comport yourself in an acceptable manner?”
“Hey Sherlock, I hate to break it to you, but if we are in here too awful long, I am going to have to go commando inside the armor as well. I can't wear the same clothes for weeks at a time without washing them.” I smiled as I walked toward the shower.
“That will be wholly unnecessary, Captain. If you would kindly check the small locker to the left of the washroom, I think you will find what you need.” Sherlock replied indignantly.
I stopped and opened the grey locker, which was about 18 inches wide and about six feet tall. Inside, a charcoal-colored body suit was hanging. Small nodes and wires were stitched into it and located all over the body suit. I reached out and lifted one of the sleeves and noticed my interface identified the body suit.
Battle armor Gambeson
An advanced suit meant to be worn underneath a set of battle armor or an orbital drop suit. The material is lightweight and breathable, and it offers the wearer diagnostic capabilities beyond the limits of most current-generation battle suits. The material is self-cleaning and self-repairing, though the time required for repair is proportional to the amount of damage taken. The Gambeson will also protect the wearer from extreme heat and cold, even offering some protection against total vacuum.
“Hey, this is sweet!” I said as I took the gambeson out of the locker, holding it up in front of me to get a better look, “I’ll try it on after I get out of the shower!”
I laid the gambeson on my cot and returned to the shower area. I started the water running, letting it heat up before I stepped in. I stood over the sink and took a look in the mirror. My beard was getting pretty thick, but I kind of liked it. My hair was longer than I usually let it grow as well, now covering my ears completely and hanging down to cover my neck completely. None of it seemed to matter, though. This new reality I was living in left little time to worry about social norms or grooming expectations. The hair was one thing, but my face seemed different than it did in my own self-image. It was hard to explain, but I looked… tired. I remembered hearing about battle fatigue as I pulled at the skin around my eyes. There was a hardness there; it wasn’t actual fatigue. It was more like my soul was getting tired, and anyone who looked at me would be able to see it in my eyes.
I sighed as I took another look. “This is reality now; you have to be willing to accept the changes, whether they are external or internal,” I said to my reflection, shaking my head.
A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
I took a shower and walked over to the cot to try on the gambeson. It covered literally everything from my feet to the tips of my fingers, only stopping at the top of my neck. There was a zipper in the front, well, kind of a zipper. Instead of a traditional mechanical zipper, there was a small tab that went up and down, creating an opening in the material, but there were no interconnecting teeth. As I pulled the tab down, the material simply parted. When I pulled the tab up, the material completely melded together, and there was no sign that there had ever been an opening.
“Weird,” I said, looking down at the suit,” It’s a bit big for me, don’t you think Sherlock?”
“Standby, Captain. That will be resolved shortly.
Sure enough, as I watched, the many nodes on the gambeson began to flash and glow as the suit activated and shrank perfectly to my body.
“I guess there are some perks to advanced technology,” I shrugged.
“Forgive me, Captain, but you are the holder of the most advanced piece of individualized battle tech in the universe, yet a gambeson impresses you?” Sherlock asked, sounding truly intrigued.
“It’s the small things that really matter, Sherlock,” I said as I walked toward the exit of the safe room and activated my armor, “Now, let's go kill some shit.”
I quickly stopped, snapping my fingers as I remembered I needed to check in with Tiff.
“Tiff, you there?” I asked, knowing that my comms would connect automatically.
“Of course; how did you sleep?” Tiff asked in response.
“Decent enough,” I replied, “hopefully, I will find the second-floor safe room quickly. Sherlock and I are going to make a push to finish this first floor and move on to the second floor soon. I don’t know when I will be able to contact you again. I just wanted to let you know I was heading out and say thanks.”
“Thanks for what?” Tiff asked.
“Just for being there. It seems like you have been there since the beginning, and I just wanted to let you know that it means a lot.” I said.
“Andrew, I’m not going anywhere. I hope you know that.” Tiff replied.
“I'm getting there, but thanks all the same, Tiff,” I said.
“You be careful, Andrew. I will take care of things out here until you get back, so don’t worry about that. Good luck, Andrew…and please…be safe, okay?” Tiff said.
“Yeah…of course, I'll be careful. Thanks for worrying about me. I mean, not that you are worried. Just it sounded like you were worried, and I wanted to say thanks for that,” I stumbled over my words badly as a message flashed across my interface.
Increased heart rate detected
The gambeson was feeding my vitals directly into my interface and even had handy prompts to let me know what was happening.
“uhh…Okay, gotta go. Bye,” I heard the small click as the line disconnected. I sighed heavily and shook my head in frustration.
“You are nothing if not eloquent, Captain,” Sherlock said, “A regular Casanova,”
“Just. Shut. Up,” I said as I stepped back out into the swamp.
Natasha had organized an attack plan, but it was heavily dependent on timing and teamwork. The Flaming Retribution and Princess Danae would have to time their attack perfectly, or the Bloodhound would be left hanging out to dry.
“Natasha, have you prepared the coordinates?” Danae asked through an open comms channel.
“Of course, Princess Danae. I have calculated a 76 percent chance of success. That is, of course, dependent on you and your strike team successfully completing your roles,” Natasha replied.
“I understand your lack of faith in us, Natasha, but we have assisted the Bloodhound on more than one instance and fully intend to do our parts here,” Princess Danae replied, “We don’t intend to let Captain Dawes, your crew, or the people of Earth be left undefended from an orbital threat. It is only a matter of time before the Rerek battle cruisers locate and bombard the points of highest resistance on the surface. We need to act before that becomes a reality. Have you completed the necessary code restructuring on the virus you told me about?”
“I have, but it is of little consequence if we don’t eliminate the orbital threat. Once we have taken those battle cruisers off the board, we can worry about crippling the remaining Lacertine forces,” Natasha replied.
“Agreed,” Danae replied, “Then we better get to it.”
The Bloodhound exploded out of space 100 kilometers from the trio of Rerek battle cruisers as alarms sounded on the bridges of all three.
“Captain, an unidentified vessel has jumped into orbit 100 kilometers to our stern. Orders?” A Rerek navigations officer on the bridge of the ship named the Red Oblivion said.
“Activate defensive measures and bring the ship around to face the unidentified vessel. Tell our other ships to do the same, then stand by for further orders. Open a channel!”
“This is Captain Drokin of the Red Oblivion. We have commandeered the space around this planet as ordered by the Universal Council, and I demand that you identify your vessel and yourself immediately or be fired on,” Captain Drokin said in a gravelly voice.
“Sir, the ship seems to be disabled. Our readings indicate that it is losing hull integrity and venting its warp plasma reserves. It also seems to have lost environmental containment and is venting oxygen. If there are any life forms on board, they are more than likely dead,” The XO said as she looked up from her station's display.
“Show me!” Drokin growled.
The display screen located on the front wall of the bridge lit up as Captain Drokin slowly backed up toward his chair and sat.
What he saw was unexpected. A long rectangular ship was rolling uncontrollably through space plasma and gas venting from what seemed to be several holes in the hull of the ship. There were no active lights or signs that the vessel had power of any kind. He reached up with one hand to run a clawed finger along one of the obsidian horns that rested atop his red-skinned head.
“And we thought there would be nothing of value gained from this mission. Ship salvage can be lucrative, especially if the vessel has a functioning warp core. Lower shields and prepare a team. We can attach tow cables to the vessel. Inform the Captains of the other vessels not to interfere; this is my bounty, as I was put in command of this expedition,” Drokin smiled as he thought about the extra credits he would be able to get out of the vessel on salvage alone, not to mention any valuables that might be located inside the ship.
“Easy money, boys!” Drokin yelled with excitement as he thought about the easy money he was about to make.