In A Flash – Part 2

Nothing helpful or useful will be typed here today due to nonsense.

In A Flash – Part 2

Merryl leapt backwards as the jagged after-flash of a plasmic bolt sliced through the air millimeters from the fingers she had been wiggling in faux-mystical fashion.  She slammed into the wall next to the opening hatch with a teeth-rattling thud.  Fingers numbed from impact, she began fumbling about in her bag.  Several of the gadgets that were inside became gadgets which were on the floor, but she found the real prize of the lot solidly strapped in place at the bottom.  As she placed her hand around the tooled leather grip, another set of after-flashes appeared over freshly scarred furrows on the airlock floor.  Apparently her attackers were just as scared of her as she was of them, and were trying to pin her in place while they brought one of their number forward for the kill.

It was cold, calculated, and showed they were all ex-military.  Unfortunately for them, they were about to be ex-ex-military.

With a fierce grin, she pulled her own weapon free.  She tapped a few dials, got the hydroelectric fluids swirling, and brought the power up to full.  She crept along the wall, pushed the barrel of the small pistol into the hallway, and dialed her suit dampening up to full as she pulled the trigger.

In the quiet of the suit, she kept time with her heart.

One second… *bump* *bump* two seconds… *bump* *bump*  three!

Merryl let go of the trigger as soon as she reached three, dialing the suit back to normal as she did.  As the interior dome of her helmet became transparent, she couldn’t help the smug smile which stretched her face near to breaking.

There were three of them, two at the back of the straight hallway, the third half-way up the hall.  They were moaning as they writhed upon the floor, trying to cover their bleeding ears and blind eyes at the same time and coming up two hands short.

“This isn’t the military gentlemen.  Now I feel even worse that you lot managed to damage my baby boy.  Ah well, nothing for it I suppose.”

The figures moaned and scrabbled in response, her statements falling on deaf ears.  Merryl carried on, heedless to the lack of response from her prone audience.  Replacing the flash-bang pistol, she pulled out a wrench which was way comically longer than the tiny backpack that had held it.

“You see, the point of a fight is not to show off fancy tactics, or have good aim, or any of that other nonsense.”

She raised the enormous wrench overhead like a samurai sword and brought it down on top of the first of her assailants.  They went still immediately, finally freed from the agony of burst eardrums and scorched corneas.  She let out a grunt and pulled the wrench free, bringing it overhead once more as she swung at the next in line.

“The point of a fight is to win.”

WHAM!

Stillness was imbued into another prone target via wrench, and Merryl grunted as she let loose another red tide upon pulling the wrench free.  The third of her would-be assassins tried to crawl away, moaning and crying and pleading.

“And if you’re going to take a shot at the Queen, you best not miss.”

Merryl paid the sounds no mind as she walked over and brought the wrench down for the last time.  After the last wet crunch, the only sound which remained was her slightly labored breathing.  She pulled a towel from her bag and began cleaning the wrench.  She didn’t spare a thought for the three idiots on the floor, but she’d need that wrench later.

After she had gotten every last bit of brains off, she collapsed the wrench back to a more portable size.  It didn’t weigh any less, but at least it would fit in the backpack once more.  She went back to the airlock and scooped up the tricks of the trade strewn haphazardly across its floor.  Once she had ascertained that they were all present and accounted for, she walked back to the scene of the carnage.

She pulled the power tank off each of the three weapons before tossing the tank-less remains back to their owners.  The guns were essentially worthless; tools of war ill-purposed for life on Mars.  No one at Vega would touch them with a twenty meter bison-prod.  The handheld tanks wouldn’t do anything to help her baby, but she’d be able to power her pistol with them.

She cautiously made her way further into the bandits base.  Merryl didn’t know if any other nasty surprises were waiting for her, but she had her freshly charged pistol at the ready just in case.  She needn’t have bothered; the rest of the structure was empty.  The assortment of rooms present in every long-term habitat were surprisingly organized and full to the brim with everything you might need.  More proof of the background of her assailants and the overall luck they’d had until meeting her.  As she passed the kitchen, Merryl snagged a fistful of protein nutra-sticks to shove into her pack.  It gave her something to do, and also allowed her not to give in to her creeping despair.

None of the rooms had contained fresh tanks of hydroelectric fluid.  The weapons that had broken her boy were all ballistic, and aside from the handguns, they hadn’t needed the usually omnipresent tanks of energy.

“That must be how they’d managed to get so well equipped.  Always a market for hydro-electrics.  Mother of Men, I’m so screwed.

As she peeled off the wrapper of a nutri-stick, she idly wondered again who Jim had been and why his nickname was Slim of all things.  She looked around at the full arms cabinet where her search had come to its end.  It may as well have been empty.  Bullets, missiles, plaspacks, tiny energy tanks that would hold hardly more than a few milliliters of hydro each, and various replacement parts for the weapons which had stranded her.  She flipped the light panel off, then on again.  She wasn’t sure what she was hoping for: darkness wasn’t going to make a full tank of hydro magically appear.

Off, *chew*, on *chew, off *chew*, on *gulp*, off.

On.

The light stayed on this time, Merryl locked in place as she stared at the light panel above her.  A powerful idea gripped her as she looked at the lights outside the room and the wall panels showing full power.  She turned the lights off one last time, then made her way towards the main generator.

She whistled as she walked.

To be continued…

Jimfully,

The Unsheathed Quill