Putting Rouk down was cake. We hovered high and shuttled him down to the surface. Then zoomed to 'Frisco.

Not having snot to do with decanting the colonists, I took a pole position along with Reems in the control room. Reems dug his claws into the rubbery surface of the floor and kneaded it mercilessly. The site was the remains of a large school yard that Clacks said the Kreeb routinely used. Christa, Henry and Lisa stayed below, preparing the colonists.

A few of Clacks' Kreeb would go first. – Wouldn't look good, a mass of people getting off of a ship here. If all looked okay, the colonists would file out. Otherwise, it would be a slow process, transporting them a dozen at a time in the closed flier to empty sections of the city as seemed safe.

The ship settled, the doors opened. Clacks chittered into his console, then waved a member at me. “Is clear. Can debark passengers, OK?”

I blew out the breath I'd held. “Good deal.”

Returnees flooded out, a pandemonium of carts, sacks, kids and folks. I'd chatted a few up during the trip that mentioned staying in the city, and told them to look up Crandall. It didn't make for a homecoming, but as I was Clacks' “Guy” It would be a while before I could visit in person.

Save for a few overturned carts and such, the exodus went well enough. We buttoned up, rose, then the fun started.

It was getting dark out by the time we approached the armory. John, up from below decks, stood tense jawed with me in the control room. He squinted through the view-port. A uncharacteristically straight dirt road pierced the wooded area, ending apparently nowhere special. A graded square with a slope ending in a block wall shelved into the end of the grade, below surface level. - Like a culvert, or something. There was a bay door in it though.

“That's the place.”

“Seems unguarded, that's got to be good news.”

John shook his head. “No up-top guards, never were. Usta be fenced. Probably tore down by somebody for salvage. Don't mean nothing. The door's not breached. Gonna recon a little; if it seems okay, send out the guys with shovels.”

“To dig their way under the gate?”

“Oh hell no. Nobody's getting in through that blast shelter door. There's an emergency exit hatch buried just off the cleared area. The captain showed me it, - wasn't sapposd ta, but he did, when I was stationed here for inventory, case we hadta clear out. Things were gett'in bad, about then. Only a foot or two of dirt over it. Clear-able, barely, if had ta dig our way out. I can burn out the hinge points.” He dug into his backpack, flashed me a cutting torch of Kreeb design. “Got an eye shield too. Long cement tube 'n ladder down below the hatch. Maybe, going down twenty feet or so. Oncet inside, I can raise the bay-door, well, unlatch it anyways. May have 'ta pry it up. Should be emergency generators in there, but its been awhile, so prob'ly the power's off. Can't say.”

I bit my lip. Our people were as yet unarmed. If it was still defended...

We walked to the flier bay and one of the Kreeb opened the ship, and manned its controls. I started in but John grabbed my shoulder. “You ain't goin. Stay here. Just me.” He checked the Kreeb-built portable radio and nodded. “If I catch heat, I'll call. If it's okay, I'll call, take you to the hatch. No call, just leave, try somethin' else, got it?”

“you're unarmed...”

John pulled out a big knife and grinned. “Not so much. They's all kinds'a combat. Anyway, if there's trouble, I bug out.”

I tried to imagine what we could do unarmed, didn't care for any of the images that conjured up. We hoped, if thing went well, that Reese would just load the equipment into our bay, on the assurance of the Kreeb, that all was well. A scenario that faded into fantasy for me, the closer we came to trying that. We did have Segudson on board, what with the colony not wanting him around. I doubt he was of a mind to be very helpful. Or that his tore-up visage would be very comforting to the staff of Reese Corp, if we showed him off. Plan was, to dump him and his cronies off, after we were loaded.

The hatch closed, and the flier lifted.

From the control bridge, the flier dwindled, settling some distance from the armory. A crackle came over the com. “Starting in. Gimme fifteen, I'll report in, if not, scoot. Don't call me, Ill call you.”

Clacks, still in his hex-thingy, fired up his translator-box. “Have magnification. Want closer view?”

“That would be great, Clacks.”

The view zoomed in, and as the sun was still up, watched John bail out from the lander soon as it settled. He wound through the surrounding greenery hunched over, and began circling the buried compound. The circles spiraled closer. Eventually he stopped, pawing ground away from beneath a thorny bush. He pulled the com up. “I got to the hatch. - still there.” It was already getting dark again by then. Suddenly, the loading door started to open. “Aw crap, wait.”

The Ranger pulled the big knife, and scuttled back. I lost sight of him as the sun went down. The bay door opened maybe a foot. A shadowy figure rolled out from underneath it, and slithered like lightning toward the hatch site. I lost sight of that guy too.

A minute later, both figures burst from the surrounding forest right in front of the door. The ranger's big knife was against the other's throat, but lowered after a time. The com fired back up.

“It's cool. Door's open. Come on down.”

Didn't look so okie-dokie to me. “Who's that with you?”

“Ah, you see that? Just a deserter, usin' the place as a shelter. - Had access. Says he was tryin' to figure a way ta sell off the contents fer food. Name's Theo. Been here a couple weeks – ran out a' rations. Say's the armory is still stocked. He'll help load us, fer food. We okay with that?”

“Sure, there's no one else inside?”

“Naw, don't suppose so. I'll check though. Hold on.”

Both guys rolled back under the door. Twenty minutes passed, and the sun was back.

“Clear.”

Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

I stared at the receiver, wondering if that meant it was safe to go in, but the door started raising more, and John popped out.

“Coming down then.”

Clacks moved a few controls, and the ship descended.

###

About a dozen of Henry's best worked at a long table in the armory. We did have to set up some accessory lighting from the ship. There was emergency power left in back-up cell banks, but the generators were out of diesel, and the cells themselves old, on their last legs. We saved that power to operate the bay door, just in case. Small arms and automatics were being field stripped, checked and reassembled at the table. Small gray bottles of gun oil, soft cloths, and boxes of ammo littered the bench. Some larger, but still portable stuff was being brought up from storage. John and Henry checked these out together in the room's corner. Ammo cases were being shuttled to the flier as fast as the assigned crew could portage them out. By my count, the flier had already made two trips. A bucket of what appeared to be vanishing oil to remove rust, and various rags, were piled around John, as Cosmolene preservative, stained brownish paper, and a growing stack of opened wood boxes got separated from a carefully laid out assortment of stuff I couldn't guess the names of. Such items as John and Henry agreed on, left the floor for the ship bay, as did a constant stream of the small arms and ammo.

Lisa strolled in, which surprised me. Hadn't expected her to disembark here.

“Clacks wants to remind you about Rouk, Yah? May want to finish whatever you're up to on board. We need to pick him up in about an hour.”

“Aw jeeze, I forgot. That's right. I'll tell Henry.”

The deserter, hovering around the tables, seemed fidgety and wasn't doing much in the way of helping prep the equipment. I turned and walked over to Henry. “We need to finish up soon. Gotta get Rouk.” Henry nodded and started to reply, when the Theo character grabbed up an assault rifle off the table. He rushed Lisa and shoved the rifle clumsily under her chin. She froze, and Theo's eyes darted around the room, while pulling her back towards the bay doors.

“Back away from the table! Now!”

Those at the table froze in confusion, then hesitantly withdrew.

John's brows knit, hands slowly raising. “What's this, Theo? You can't be serious about try'in ta stay on here?”

The man stared wildly at John, while awkwardly struggling to keep the rifle on his charge. “Not about that. I'm a corporate man now. Was here to catalog th' place. We're gonna clean it out. You all need to leave. Just drop the stuff and go.” He bumped the rifle harder under Lisa's chin. Lisa gasped, her hands open and fluttering.

“So, not old military after all.” John's face tightened.

Theo backed her with him towards a point that would put everyone in direct view. Lisa tripped as he pulled her, knees buckling. The rifle came away from her neck. As the man's attention shifted, John's arm became a blur, and his big knife suddenly appeared in the creep's shoulder. Several at the table grabbed up arms. John bounded at Theo and sprawled the guy onto the hard floor, then held him there, face to the floor, by the big knife's handle,while pawing after the rifle. The rifle, still somehow in Theos hand, went off in Henry's direction. Henry collapsed with a cry. John did some additional twisting with the blade, and shoved again. Theo's eyes bugged out, and the man went still.

I dropped to Henry. His leg was torn just above the ankle, and pumped blood. I grabbed at the wound trying to slow the flow with my hands.

“Help! Quick.”

John left the quiescent corpse on the floor, grabbing clean rags from a sack on the table as he came. Working quickly, he packed cloth over the wound and tied it up. He used another longer strip to make a makeshift tourniquet above the bloody mess, tightened with a snatched rifle barrel, with which he also splinted the lower leg. Henry howled continuously,and fainted a couple times during all this. His face went white matching his clearly visible clenched teeth, and was obviously in shock.

“Gotta get Henry to the ship quick. There's shattered bone and stuff. Needs serious attention. I can't do it. Needs ta' be quick.”

I stared like a deer in headlights, shook and remembered Lisa. A glance showed her undamaged. While I recovered my senses someone else had gotten word to the ship. My com fired up.

Clacks' voice-box chattered over it. “Am a stretcher sending on flier. One male says, is nurse, have on board some antibiotics, coming down too. Is all can do. Is okay?”

The complete inappropriateness of my position, lack of knowledge and sheer stupidity wracked me. I nodded at the com, then remembered to reply properly. “Have to do. We'll have to get Henry better help soon.”

John shot me a look. “We gotta clear out anyway. Don't know when that joker's corporate team is coming, but we won't wanna be here when it does.”

I tightly nodded in agreement, then motioned everyone toward the bay doors. “Pack up. Grab whatever you can carry out and wait for the shuttle.”

Even this much left me in doubt. Maybe I was exposing them to incoming fire. Maybe they should wait inside. Maybe...

A middle-age colonist ran into the room with a collapsed gurney under one arm, a largish tin box swinging in his opposite hand. He quickly made his way to Henry, and started unfolding the stretcher. Others bundled up whatever they could, and headed outside. Between them, John and the medic managed to move Henry onto the thing. The medic hung a fluid bag, which he handed to John, who held it as the medic injected Henry with something, and checked the leg. He took the fluid bag back and slung it around his neck. Worriedly,the two hustled the older man for the door. Henry lifted an arm weakly, and John lowered his head, nodding as they rushed on.

Oh jeeze, the colonists would be crowding the shuttle. I ran for the shuttle, waving my hands at the boarders.

Things got sorted out. Henry lifted first with a few of the colonists,including a still panicked Lisa and whatever supplies had been loaded. John stayed on the ground, recruited a number of the remaining workers, and trotted quickly with them back into the depot. The ship itself was further off, where landing space for it was available, so the shuttle was still used to load up. By the time the shuttle returned, John was back, his crew toting a couple large wooden crates and a train of several smaller containers. John himself stumbled forward toting a large white plastic case, a prominent red cross painted across it. He shrugged at me. “More medical stuff. Saw it on the way down.”

John dumped the case in the ship, then ran back out with an olive green box that had a mast antenna on it, as the others piled up their cargoes. He dropped and fiddled with it, then waved me aboard. “Go, Go. Go!”

It sounded important, so I hiked it quickly aboard the shuttle, John hit a switch on the box then followed on my heels. We had just cleared the ramp, When a concussion bellowed behind us, followed by a firestorm of flame, smoke and debris. Things pinged and bonged off the exterior of the rising ramp. A few whizzed over the top of it to dent the internal walls. One piece ricocheted off an internal plate, to nail one of John's people on a shoulder, knocking him down. An acid smell choked the inside of the hold.

“Few satchel charges, here 'n there, around the facility. Didn't know how much time we had, so armed 'em for radio det, instead'a timers. Don't want give over the armory to Corporate, if I can help it. Should'a been more careful. Sorry. ”

He loped over to the fallen man, and tore off his sleeve, and inspected the bruised and bloodied shoulder.

Lisa was waiting when I re-boarded the ship. I gave her a quick hug, felt her shiver against me, then asked after Henry.

“He's in the second storage room. Just next cabin over out the hall door, yah? We cleared a place for him in it. Christa's there with the medic.”

John followed me, hauling the white crate. A mild elevator feeling told me the ship was already rising.