The banging on the door gradually ceased.
Michael put his hands gingerly inside the holes.
“Are you sure you should be doing that. What if it’s some kind of torture device?” Vargev asked, eyeing the chair suspiciously.
The holes were a little big, but not too much of a problem, usually designed for Krenaran arms and hands; Michael thought.
The arms of the chair began to take on the movements of his own arms, augmenting his movements with the mechanics contained within the chair itself. Michael lowered his right arm; and the chair arm did the same. Simultaneously the entire ship quickly pitched to port; throwing Vargev completely off balance, and landing with a thud on the deck plating.
“It’s a pilot’s chair!” Michael said elated.
“Good, now that you’ve thrown me on my ass.”
“Sorry about that. The controls take a bit of getting used to; the console display must be for speed, distance and heading.”
Vargev got to his feet; and brushed himself off, “what do you think the buttons on the grips are for?”
“Probably weapons controls, and thrusters.”
Michael returned his arms to level and took them out of the hand holes. The chair arms gradually returned to their original positions.
“This is supremely advanced; we don’t have anything like it in the E.D.F.”
He got out of the chair and walked with Vargev over to the environmental console. Reversing what he did previously; all the decks on the deck plan gradually lit up in their respective colours again; some red, some green, and some blue.
“What did you do?”
“I simply shut off the air supply to all decks except the command centre and detention area. The ship is now ours,” Michael replied smiling.
Vargev smiled back, “You suffocated them? I like it. What are we going to call our new ship anyway?”
Michael thought for a moment. “I haven’t thought about it much really; tell you what, we’ll call it the Liberty.”
“Why the Liberty?”
“Because I like the statue of liberty; and besides it sounds good,” Michael replied smiling.
“The E.D. F could do with a bit of luck at the moment; the Liberty it is then.”
“We have to get back down to the detention facility.”
Together they studied the deck plan on the monitor.
“If we go through that door the Krenarans were banging on, and head down the corridor; we should come to a second elevator. We can get to the detention facility from there,” Michael said, tracing his finger along the plan.
“Then let’s go then.”
They walked towards the battered doors; and with a heave. The two men managed to force a way through. The doors creaked with the groan of twisted metal. Four Krenarans lay dead on the floor on the other side; as Michael and Vargev stepped through, they could see another five lay further down the corridor. All of them suffocated; pushing their way past the bodies they eventually reached the end of the corridor and entered the elevator.
It said, “Gorush’te.”
“Shit, not this again.”
They walked back out of the elevator; across the command centre, and climbed down the elevator shaft again; it was easier going this time. Shortly thereafter they had made it back to the detention area.
Kerulithar said, “I am glad you remembered about us.”
Michael glanced over the small console where the Krenarans once stood, he saw a symbol that looked like a sheet of glass and pressed it.
All the Electrical fields in the detention centre shut down at once. The various species of aliens held captive all piled out of their cells. Michael and Nikolai were stood in front of them. “Can we have your attention please!” Michael shouted.
The aliens continued to mill about amongst themselves.
“It is no good, they can’t understand you,” Kerulithar said as he walked towards the two of them. “There are twenty or so different species here. Let me try; it’s always best when speaking to many different species like this to speak galactic common.”
Kerulithar turned towards the rabble and shouted, “Galtray! Galtray!”
The crowd stopped and quietened noticeably.
“What did you say to them,” Michael asked.
“Attention.”
“Tell them we have captured the ship; all the Krenarans are dead. But we need a crew for the time being.”
“Alvash kal untra krenar udlish, kormei alvat assak, dadloo antima galutha.”
“What was that again?”
“The rough translation is; Krenarans all dead; ship is captured; crew needed.”
“What was your name again?” Vargev asked.
“Kerulithar.”
“Remind me to take language lessons from you,” Vargev replied smiling.
A Large green spider like alien stepped forward; it had a huge bulbous body, and was stood on two legs, yet it had six. And two bright yellow eyes. It looked rather intimidating; both Michael and Vargev backed off slightly, as it loomed over them.
“Kallash a ganrush kaneil,” it said.
“Wha…What did that thing say?” Michael said to Kerulithar.
“He’s a Faccadian, they are a rare species in the galaxy now. Their world was destroyed by tectonic pressure several centuries ago.”
“But what did he say?”
“He says he is one of the best engineers of his species.”
“Gannat kamadi kellen Facad,” the spidery alien said.
“He also says that there are not many left of his species.”
“Does he know his way around an engine room?”
“Gallutat fallash angin forlam?”
“Vorkresh,” the alien replied.
“He said definitely.”
“Good, in that case he’s hired.”
“Kerulithar, I’ll leave the crew handling up to you since you know what you’re doing. But I’ll need you up on the command centre soon.”
“An excellent idea,” the tall Solarian replied.
“Oh and one last thing; what the hell is the Krenaran word for the damn command centre?”
“Sal’Krasht.”
“Thanks.”
They walked out of the detention facility; taking a different route towards the second still functioning elevator.
“You plan on using that thing?” Vargev inquired.
“Hell yeah, I’m not climbing up that damn lift shaft again, besides I’m going to get some use out of it, while we still have a ship.”
They both laughed; a short while later they reached the elevator and stepped inside.
“Gorush’te,” it said.
Michael thought he detected a slight tone to the voice; almost as if the elevator computer was teasing him.
Smugly he replied, “Sal’krasht.”
The elevator beeped its response, and headed to the command centre.
Once it arrived at its destination, Michael and Vargev stepped out onto the command centre once again.
“Okay Navy boy, so now what do we do?”
“We get this bucket of bolts moving. Right now we are a sitting duck; we need to make sure which is which, weapons, defensive systems, propulsion, and sensors.” Michael walked over to the pilot’s chair, and sat down in it once again; the metallic arms arose, and he slid his arms through the hand holes. As a test he pressed one of the red buttons located on the hand grip, on his screen a huge energy spike erupted.
A bright green energy beam shot out from the front of the ship.
“Well, at least we know how to fire the weapons.”
Vargev was beginning to get bored; he was a soldier and a damned good one, his place was on a battlefield and not sat at a chair onboard a ship. He browsed over a few consoles lining the walls of the command centre. Nothing he could do there. Then he came across a console that he thought contained sensory data. The chair was still intact, and he sat at the station.
“Now, here’s a job I can do,” Vargev said to himself.
“What’s the matter?”
“I’ve just found a job I can do, sensory officer. I spent some time as one when I was a sergeant; guarding some members of the intelligence services based at Foxtrot Charlie base.”
“Okay then, what have you got for me?”