Orson and his two lackeys had split off from them, heading towards the hanger for his own ship. He had muttered something about gathering his scattered marines and Aileena had laughed. Greddog was fond of that trick, using the splendours of his casino to separate potential threats. She had stopped when she realised, she and Brekt had committed the same mistake.
“We haven’t gathered any supplies!” Mellok said as he rushed past. He turned around in the airlock, his feather swishing as he did. “That was the whole point of stopping here.”
“You want to stick around and wait for Greddog to land so we can get our money back?”
“I see. You do have a point.” Mellok vanished, disappearing as he headed towards the control room.
“Everyone in, that includes you, robot man.” The two gladiators had rushed past Aileena, Michael following behind them. Clive had stopped at the bottom of the ramp. He turned to face the dock entrance, then the ship. He flip-flopped between the two, conflicted at what to do.
“I’m not sure I should leave, Lord Greddog needs me and I…”
“Greddog will turn you into scrap metal. You helped us, now we’re helping you, come on, get in.”
Clive turned and started up the ramp. As he did so, the doors that led from the landing dock to the corridors of Ossiark slid open. A squad of pirates came springing through, weapons clutched to their arms. The last stragglers left on the station, a makeshift watch. They opened fire, vengeance for a game they would never finish, cards knocked from the break room table as they hurried. A blast of energy struck Clive in the back, exploding from his front in a shower of metal and sparks. Lubricating fluid poured forth like blood, running down the ramp in a torrent.
Aileena reached down and gripped the stricken robot, dragging him up the ramp. He was much heavier than he looked, and her green skin took on a darker shade as she strained. There was a loud tone, an odd sort of screeching wail and a purple beam lanced out. It raked across the ground, energy angrily converting into fiery sparks as the dock floor exploded. A second beam fired again, incinerating one of the pirates.
“Here, I got you.” Michael reached down, gripping the other side of Clive, pulling along with Aileena. “Let’s get him in the ship.”
“You used the defence array. By choice this time.”
“Yeah let’s not look into that too much. We need to get the hell out of here whilst we still can, right?”
The Seeker rose screaming from the landing pad, its side engines roaring at full power. She twisted upwards towards a gap between the web of metal and stone, then fired her main engines, blasting through into space beyond. She came around, hurtling away from the assembled pirate fleet, heading out towards the deep void.
“He looks in a bad way,” Kestok said, bending down next to the stricken android. Clive wasn’t speaking, but his mouth was moving open and shut. His eyes rolled around uncontrolled in their sockets. They had propped him against the airlock wall in a seated position. “Took a hit through his central power source. He’s just on the backup batteries.” Kestok looked up at the bewildered faces around them. “I was an engineer, before, well stumbling my way into the fighting pits. This robot body is scrap, I’m afraid.”
“That sucks,” Michael said. “He helped us you know, we owe him.”
“Oh, I think I can still help him.” Kestok ran his hand across the back of the robot’s head, his fingers searching through its hair. There was a click and Clive’s face came loose, dropping to the floor. Behind it was what looked like muscle, but deep grey. It smelt strongly of salt. Kestok pushed the synthetic muscle out of the way, revealing a large red plastic tab about half an inch high and six inches across. He pulled on it, and it slid free, revealing a thin slice of clear plastic attached to it. The plastic was etched with thin metal lines like a circuit board.
Kestok walked into the control room, the slice of Clive in his hand. He took a right at the entrance, searching the wall panel. He smiled and flipped down a metal cover, revealing a slot the same size as the object in his hand. He slid it in and closed the cover with a snap.
“Ow, that really hurt,” said Clive, his voice pumping through unseen speakers. “Oh, I do feel rather strange. I seem to have gotten noticeably rounder. I must cut back on that delicious food that humans love so much.”
“So, Clive is a spaceship now?” Michael asked
“Basically. I took out his AI matrix and inserted it into the ship. It’s not the same as his old body, but at least he’s alive. Or well, as close to alive as he could get.”
“I have the strangest sensation, I am almost certain I’m being followed,” Clive said. “Ah yes, there is a small craft after us, one of Greddog’s patrol vessels. Strange, I remember them being considerably bigger.”
Aileena and Brekt sprinted across the control room, slamming themselves into the front two chairs, clicking the belts together. The other occupants of the ship got the message, selecting their own positions. Michael grabbed his usual chair whilst Kestok took the other, leaving Meggok and Mellok to take the couches on the back wall.
“I think I can squeeze a little more out of the engines,” Kestok said, his hands confidently working the console.
“Do it,” Aileena said. “We lucked out to get an engineer. Other blue guy, you got any skills aside from cracking skulls?”
“I’m a chef,” Meggok replied.
“Good, but kind of useless right now. There’s got to be a hell of a story how you two ended up as gladiators, so the plan is surviving this so we can find out.”
“It’s not that interesting, a honeymoon gone badly wrong basically. Can we jump away?” Meggok leant to the side so he could see Aileena, clasping the straps on the couch.
“At this range, they’ll be able to track our destination, that’s if we can even get anywhere with the pitiful fuel we have left.”
“There is another ship coming, it’s gaining on us quickly. It is different from the first, I believe it is Commander Orson’s ship maybe?” Clive said.
The Gallant pushed her engines as hard as she could, squeezing every inch of power from them. Within her crew were shouting between each other, issuing orders and responding in kind. She came up behind the pirate ship, a small patrol cutter, not unlike the Gallant herself. Where the Gallant was a sleek claw, a mixture of form and function, the pirate vessel was an ugly box, oversized engines stapled to a ship that was struggling to control them.
The Gallant levelled itself, and then a single deadly shot flew free from it, energy lancing across space. It struck the pirate vessel amidships, piercing directly through it. There was no massive explosion, no brilliant fiery star, instead, the ship died a more typical death. It split into fragments, the force of the shot melting supports and evaporating rooms. Inside the crew would be scrambling for life-saving vacuum suits if they weren’t dead already.
The Gallant twisted away, altering its course. It sent a single tight beam message to the Seeker, before vanishing off in the other direction.
“Oh, what a strange sensation. The pirate vessel is gone, and I think we have a message. Yes, that’s what that is,” Clive said.
“He’s right,” Kestok said. “Sensors say the vessel was destroyed by Orson’s ship. It’s changed course and its heading away from us. We do have a message, playing it now.