The two Krenaran guards appeared to be summoned elsewhere, and left the room. Instantly Vargev sprang into action. He took off his combat boots and pulled at their heels; with a faint click they separated, revealing a small compartment, within each compartment there were some small mechanical parts.
“What are you doing?” Michael said.
“While you have been chatting away like an old woman, I’ve been thinking of a way out.”
“What are those?” Michael asked looking at the parts.
“Parts for a stripped down hand laser; we don’t have much time, the guards will be back soon,” Vargev replied.
He rammed his fingers down his throat; and was promptly sick on the floor of the cell. Michael gave the Russian a look of disgust; feeling queasy himself, he held his nose and turned away.
Vargev fished around within his own puke, and found another small part.
“You’re disgusting,” Michael said with derision.
“It’s going to get us out of here, isn’t it?”
“What is that you just puked up then?”
“Pre-fire chamber, I swallowed it this morning.”
“You knew we were going to be captured!” Michael shouted; desperately trying to quell a rising temper.
“Be quiet; no I didn’t, but I prepared for it anyway, first rule of battle kid, nothing is quite what it seems.”
He connected the pre-fire chamber to the other parts that were hidden within his boots; together they formed the barrel of the weapon.
“Very inventive your friend is,” Kerulithar pointed out to Michael.
Next Vargev fumbled around inside his underwear, and fished out three more small parts, Michael recognised these. It was a small pistol grip; a press button for a trigger, and a small laser ammunition pod.
“I bet that must have been uncomfortable.”
“You learn to live with it,” Vargev replied as he slotted the press button into place on the grip; then attached he grip to the barrel, and with a faint click it too was secured. Finally he plugged in the laser pod and the weapon was ready.
“When you see the guards coming, pretend you’re really ill, so that the guards will come closer; got it.” Vargev said to Michael.
Michael shook his head, “as if they are going to fall for that old chestnut?”
“They might; they don’t know anything about us really either,” Vargev reminded Michael.
“Okay; but it’s only our grave if it fails.”
“Will you stop with the negative; it will work,” Vargev reiterated. “Listen this hand laser is only good for ten close range shots before it runs out; so when I kill the guards. You grab the weapons understood.”
“In case you haven’t noticed, their weapons are grafted onto their arms,” Michael protested.
“Then un-graft them!” Vargev replied growing more heated.
“A simple, but effective plan,” the Solarian replied.
“Be quiet!”
They waited for at least ten minutes; the guards didn’t re-appear. Michael turned and looked at the Solarian’s clothes and wondered why he didn’t notice how strange they were before.
Kerulithar also looked down at what he wore; following Michaels gaze. Finally he said, “it’s a Gudakra, a Solarian ambassadorial robe; my badge of office.” The robe was a golden colour, with deep red bands that ran its length; strange golden symbols adorned each band.
“What do the symbols mean?”
“They are mediations that I have taken part in. All Solarian ambassadors wear these robes.”
Vargev heard movement, and turned just in time to see the Krenaran guards re-enter the room.
Michael pretended to cry out in agony; dropping to the floor screaming and writhing for all he was worth in mock pain. For once Vargev was impressed with his acting.
The guards hurried over. “What is wrong with this Terran!” they said in their deep gruff voice. All the while Michael was screaming and writhing in pseudo agony.
“His appendix is rupturing, he needs help; he can’t survive without it!” Vargev lied as convincingly as he could muster. They shut off the field and bent down to lift Michael up.
“Axus will be angry if his prized possessions are damaged; however you will not die,” one of them said.
“But you will!” Vargev shouted as he instantly brought the small weapon up and opened fire at point blank range, blasting a small, neat hole through the first Krenarans skull; white ichor spewed out from the wound, and the Krenaran fell backwards with a thud. Narrowly missing landing on Michael.
The other Krenaran tried to bring his weapon into play but two shots, one through the chest which staggered the brute; and the second slammed through his eye socket, silencing him forever. The remainder of the captured aliens were screaming and yelling to be set free; both Michael and Vargev could barely think under the din.
Michael quickly grabbed the arm of the closest Krenaran, and tried to blow off the arm of the other. However he couldn’t find the trigger to the strange weapon. His heart was pounding; they would both be discovered soon for sure, Vargev was covering the doorway.
He tried pulling and pushing but couldn’t get the weapon to fire; the shouts and screams from the prisoners were almost deafening. Finally he twisted the long shiny metallic barrel; and with a click, the weapon came away from the arm.
“They’ll be here any minute!” Vargev shouted back desperately to Michael, who had found that the weapon was connected via a thick cable; to a power supply embedded in the Krenarans’ shoulder.
“I’ve got to be real careful with this!” Michael shouted over the din.
“Just do it damn quickly!”
He found that the trigger was a red coloured button, actually within the barrel of the giant weapon. Carefully he aimed the cannon; and blasted the other dead Krenarans’ arm off just above the shoulder. A spray of white ooze splattered over the nearby surfaces; Michael raced over to the amputated arm and disconnected the fist from the weapon.
Using all his strength he gradually tore the power unit out of the dead Krenarans’ shoulder, slinging it over his own; it was still wet and dripping with white ooze. He hefted the heavy barrel of the weapon with both hands; now he was ready.
“You finally ready now? Never ask a fucking Navy boy, to do a soldiers job,” Vargev muttered as he slowly poked his head around the entrance; it was clear.
“Move!” He shouted as the Russian ran down a straight corridor; Michael in hot pursuit.
“What about the Solarian?”
“We’ll come back for him once we’ve secured the ship,”
Vargev replied, eyeing up the next corridor.
Two Krenarans emerged out of a set of automatic metal doors. Surprised at seeing the two humans loose on the ship they hesitated for a split second; Vargev dispatched one with ruthless efficiency. Two laser shots slammed into its head; the Krenaran fell against the corridor wall, pumping white ichor onto the wall and floor.
The second managed to fire a shot off, Vargev could feel the heat from the shot as it fizzed past him and blew a hole through a bulkhead behind him. That was damn close.
Michael fired his new makeshift weapon; the recoil of the thing nearly knocking him backwards, the shot hit home; blasting a deep ragged white hole in the Krenarans’ chest. The force of the impact knocked the Krenaran campletely off its feet; it slammed into the end of the corridor with a dull crack as its head the wall.
“Five shots left!” Vargev shouted as they sprinted past the dead Krenarans.
“We need to get to the bridge; or whatever this ship uses as a command centre.”
“Good plan. Do you see a map anywhere? Neither do I; so let’s move!”
Together they sprinted along the corridor those two Krenarans came from; as he was running, Michael spotted something just out of the corner of his eye.