The value of a Name: Part 5
20 Sep 2016Cartlidge1000
“Captain.” I heard a voice chime in. I was just about to turn on the datapad I was given when the call drew my attention.“What’s wrong?” Valentin asked the man to his right.
“We just finished the scans. There isn’t a single canister aboard that ship.” Scanners? There was no way. How did… how did I not notice the scanners lining the room? This wasn’t good.
“Care to explain… commander?” As if on cue, several of the man’s crew raised their weapons, waiting for the order. It was a bad situation, but not the worst I’ve ever been in.
I took a breath to calm myself down, dropping the datapad and placing my hands in my pockets. With my left hand I produced a small silver cylinder.
“Here. This should explain everything,” I said, closing my organic eye and tossing the device to Valentin. He caught it and looked it over for a moment.
“What the hell is this th-” BANG! The smoke grenade detonated, instantly filling the room with an impenetrable white cloud. I knew the blast would likely shatter the bastard’s arm, and his roars of pain confirmed it.
“Kill the fucker!” he shouted into the smoke. Immediately his crew responded with gunfire, but no one could find their mark. It always made the eye socket burn a little, but my cybernetic eye allowed me to see right through the cloud is if it wasn’t even there. With everyone’s vision impaired I started dropping targets with ease. I had to be quick, though. It would only be a matter of seconds before the station’s ventilation system cleared the air. Using my stun pistol I dropped the leader and one other soldier before I had to move to avoid getting shot. The next three fell just as easily, but the last one proved a challenge. By the time I had focused on him, he had donned a mask to filter out the smoke and highlight my location. I reacted quickly and dropped him as well, but not before he had fired his own weapon.
I hated automatic weapons. They were always significantly harder to avoid than sidearms. Today was no different. I reloaded my pistol then tucked it away in my jacket, slowly making my way back to where I had dropped the datapad. Each step I took sent jolts of pain through my abdomen and up my spine, as if I was ripping myself apart. Fuck I hated bullets. With each step I took the thought repeated itself. Shit… Shit… Shit… Shit… Bitter luck struck again to add insult to injury. During the firefight the datapad had taken a stray bullet. It was utterly useless now.
“C… C’mon. We gotta get out of here,” I told Ten as I limped back to the Trebuchet. I could feel the warm life bearing blood oozing from my left side onto my right hand. I desperately needed to stop moving and patch myself up, but knew it was only a matter of time before the thugs I had stunned woke up. To make matters worse the bullet was probably still lodged in my gut somewhere, meaning I had to get to a hospital, preferably one in a different system. As I continued to limp I noticed Ten make her way over to me. Without a word she took one of my arms and wrapped it around her shoulders so she could support me as we walked.
“Thanks” I almost whispered. I didn’t want to admit it to myself, but I wasn’t sure how much longer I would be able to stay conscious.
“It would have been problematic if I did not help. If you walk back to the ship on your own, your chances of survival would drop by 78 percent,” she explained bluntly, “and I do not know how to fly.”
“We’re gonna need to teach you how to be human again,” I half joked.
I don’t entirely remember what had happened next, but the next thing I knew I was lying in a bunk in the Trebuchet’s living quarters, with Ten looming over me like the angel of death.
“I passed out, didn’t I?” I asked, weakly.
“You did. With the equipment you have on this ship I think I’ll be able to remove the round.”
“Think?” It was an odd word for someone like Ten to use.
“I am 89 percent sure I can remove the round,” she replied.
“Fine,” I relented, bracing myself. She first injected me with a combat stabilizer. It numbed the pain but kept me awake. Once she was ready she turned away to use the room’s automated sanitizer. Finally she turned back to me.
“I do apologize if this causes any discomfort,” she said, pulling my shirt up with her right hand while her left hand hovered over the wound. Until now, I hadn’t had the opportunity to see her left arm, since it had always been covered by the suit. Only now had she actually taken the glove off. Her hand looked fairly normal, except for several seams where the joints connected, and a chrome gloss that gave it the appearance of liquid mercury. It also lacked any fingernails, having only indentations that simulated the appearance of nails. As her hand hovered, she widened her fingers, the first two of which split in half. Each half-finger stretched out on tiny pistons, each splitting at the end to create a set of four, rather disturbing, tiny pincers. The two outermost probes opened the wound for the innermost pair, as they reached inside to retrieve the bullet. I couldn’t feel a significant amount of pain, but the sensation was indescribable none-the-less. Once the bullet was out she tossed it aside.
Taking the small spindle of yarn I had used to patch my jacket numerous times she got to work sowing small bits of my flesh back together. The thread was strong stuff, as long as I was careful it should hold. Finally she took a can of biofoam and used it close up the wound before finally sowing it shut.
“The operation seems to have been a success,” she announced, cleaning her hand in the sanitizer before letting her fingers return to normal.
“That was quite a show,” I replied, forcing myself to get up.
“Your body will need time to repair. It would be advisable to rest.”
“I’ll rest when we’re out of the system” I continued my attempt but was eventually forced to lie back down.
“We already are out of the system” she added, pulling her glove back on.
“Wait, how? I thought you couldn’t fly” I complained.
“In times of emergency I am capable of learning rather quickly,” she turned and forced a smile, perhaps the first one I had ever seen. It was awkward at best. “On an unrelated note, the cockpit was… damaged in our escape. I had to seal the bulkhead to keep the ship’s main life support active.”
It was an obvious lie, but I couldn’t help but chuckle at the thought of Ten trying to get the Asp out of the mailslot. What’s more was that she was starting to show traces of her human side. Perhaps there were traces of it left after all.
But for now all I cared about was getting some rest.
[part 5]