Chapter Eight

“Goddammit,” Gray cursed.

“Shit,” he continued, as the shuttle slammed against the side of the space station.

“Goddammit, shit—for the love of God!” he screamed.  He struggled to hold his shuttle in place as the ricochet effect from the collision threatened to push him into deep space.

The spinning stopped and Gray was able to keep the shuttle alongside the station long enough to attach a grappling suction-hook.  He breathed a sigh of relief, and stepped out of the cockpit to the back, where he dressed in his battle suit.  The familiar scars and dents in the suit were comforting this time; he was in his element and he knew it.

It was clear that Warner was in trouble.  From what Gray had been able to determine, Linda had tricked Warner into taking a trip to the Station.  The purpose of that trickery was still unknown to Gray, but he knew that it had something to do with the rebellion inside the Station.  It was obvious now that Linda was coordinating the Rebellion’s efforts inside the Agency, and unfortunately Warner had been caught up in it, his love for Linda clouding his normally keen sense of observation and caution.

Gray opened the external airlock and met the view of the Station’s hull with his tired eyes.  The hull was normal enough—gray, pitted from collisions with mini-asteroids, and glowing slightly from the energy shielding.  As usual with space, the utter lack of sound and atmosphere—wind, gravity, anything—caught him by surprise.  The painting along the Station’s airlock was standard issue also, informing him that he was in all likelihood dead if he was presently reading the words on it.  He chuckled a bit and withdrew a small tool from his pocket.  He placed the tool next to the door and waited.

Five seconds later the door opened, exposing the inside of an airlock.  Gray stepped in and pressed the button to close the door.  The hissing of the oncoming air into the chamber startled him, making him reach for the phaser on his hip.  The sound subsided though, and he relaxed a bit again.  Not entirely of course, but his anxiety level decreased as the gravity filled the chamber.  With a final loud beep, the internal doors opened and he stepped into the Station.

He looked around the room and was surprised once again at how unfinished the Station seemed.  The walls weren’t painted, the floor was still a grate showing the communication fiber lines, and the ceiling was a collection of fluorescent lights and status monitors.  The monitors weren’t on of course—the Station resident had long since turned them off in their first action of rebellion.

His thoughts were interrupted with a sound—the room’s door was opening!  Gray quickly tore off his space suit and threw it into the corner.  He moved his phaser to the back of his belt, and leaned against a nearby computer console.

The door opened, and a young Station crewmate walked into the room.  He was whistling, but stopped upon seeing Gray.

“Oh, I’m sorry sir,” he said, seeing Gray’s insignia.  “I didn’t realize the airlock was being used.  The computer showed it open.”

Gray looked up from his apparent concentration at the computer screen.  “Nah that’s ok, just figuring out how this door keeps triggering an alarm.  Do you know anything about it?”

The man crewmate shook his head.  “No sir, that’s why they sent me in here.  The alarm went off that the external door had opened but we didn’t show any activity planned for this room.”  

Gray turned back to the computer and feigned typing on the tactile keys with one hand.  With his other he reached behind his back to the weapon.

The young man walked closer to Gray and stood in front of him, with the computer console between them.

“I don’t mean to be impolite sir, but I don’t recognize you.  Which group are you with?” he asked, upon getting closer to Gray.

Gray ignored the man and kept his concentration on the screen.  Nothing was on the screen of course—the computers weren’t functioning.  If the crewman came around from his side of the console he’d see that.

“Uh, sir…” the man said, his voice a little uncertain now in addressing Gray.

Goddamit, thought Gray.  No easy way out of this one.

“I’m from the Agency,” said Gray, his voice firm and quick.  “I need you to help me.  I’m here investigating the security issue you’ve just been sent to check out.”  He said this very authoritatively, trying to win over the crewman with his seniority.

The crewman though, to his credit, reached for his belt where he kept a communicator.

“I’m sorry sir, but you know how it works.  I’ll need to—“

His words stopped and his face froze in shock as the blast from Gray’s phaser hit him mid-chest.  He dropped to the ground and his body shook a couple times, and then was still.

Gray stood over the man, shaking his head.  Another life lost to these guys for no reason.  He holstered his phaser and bent down to drag the man’s body to the corner of the room, behind the computer console.  He searched through the man’s pockets for an ID or anything else that could be of use.  He took the communicator and a key from the crewmate’s pocket, but everything else he left.

Ok, I’ve got about ten minutes before they start to wonder about this guy, he said to himself.  That means about ten minutes to find Warner or I’ve got problems.