Garth’s butt quickly became sore waiting on the metal staircase for Ralt to open the door to the command tower, and he considered walking over to talk with Miles as they waited, but he had seen Miles peek from the side of the crate, and figured it would draw less attention if Garth would stay put. So Garth waited on the stairs, Octorl quietly hovered in place asking on occasion: “Objective same?”
Garth would respond; “Objective same.” and Octorl would remain in place with a green indicator. After twenty minutes had passed Garth again banged on the door requesting Ralt finish his break, but Ralt responded:
“Go away you ignorant child. An adult needs to complete his meal, as meager as a mechanic’s lunch might be. You realize I got twice as much food when I was working on CLERGY 1?”
Garth rolled his eyes and slumped up against the tower, he pried open Octorl’s exterior shell and unplugged a wire, but Octorl then fell to the ground and rolled down the stairs, each arm clanging as they fell. Garth cursed under his breath and chased after him, Octorl was badly scraped from the metal stairs, but none of the wiring seemed damaged.
“Better to let Ralt to take a look, I guess.” Garth admitted.
“That is right.” A voice said from behind Garth, he turned to face a very tall and lithe Callos in a bright blue jumpsuit.
“I heard to drop the whole thing down the stairs. What, you want me to dismantle it?” Ralt asked jokingly.
“No. I need you to reactivate the privacy setting on it.” Garth responded.
Ralt gave Garth a curious glance and then asked:
“What are you trying to hide? Your fetish for some female Convoy…”
“No. No, not at all. Listen, I simply need the robot to do a job without being compromised as soon as someone thinks to interview it.” Garth explained.
“Sure. I understand, I can work my magic. Just know that the fix doesn’t work retroactively. Obviously if there is anything already in the system cache…” Ralt explained as Octorl began to speak:
“New command?” he asked.
“Stupid machine. Don’t you worry your innocent little head Garth, I’ll fix it up.” Ralt offered.
Garth shook his hand and turned to grab an electro-grafter.
“Hold on.” Ralt asked, “Wait.” He reached for the electro-grafter himself.
“Could I ask you to do me a favor?” Ralt asked, his eyes serious.
“Well, I. I’m kind of in a hurry. You did already make me wait for you to finish your lunch.” Garth reminded him.
“Yes. I know. I was obnoxious. I need someone to clear the hanger work log.” Ralt asked.
“The work log?” Garth asked.
“Yes. I haven’t been the most punctual this month, and the Captain has already put me on probation. If someone would clear my log…say you.” He pleaded.
The work log was Garth’s responsibility; he couldn’t falsify the document, especially since Ralt was on probation for the problem already. Garth didn’t want to encourage the laziness and irresponsibility of Ralt, but Garth needed Ralt to reformat Octorl.
“Yes. I will erase the work log. Only this once, as soon as I am back, I need you to be done.” Garth bargained.
“I will be done. Deal.” Ralt promised. “Secrets require secrets. I get it.”
Garth quickly marched down the staircase, passing a dozing Miles to the holo-foil work log adhered to the wall. Callos were beginning file in as lunch ended. Garth had perhaps only a minute until the majority of the Callos would return.
A scream broke the relative silence, Garth peered down the hall to see a tall female was running down the corridor towards the hanger, several of the mechanics were parting for her as she ran. Garth turned to look at the command tower to see Ralt letting Octorl hover down the stairs, the female was nearing and a few Convoy guards were in pursuit. It was Lalia.
Garth stopped erasing the work log; there were more pressing concerns. They needed to escape.
“Miles!” Garth shouted. “Miles wake up. Run! We need to get out of here!” Miles shuddered and woke; he climbed out from the crates and ran towards the shuttle. Garth beat him there and unfastened the hatch, Octorl slowly hovering toward them.
“Ralt. Open the hanger door!” Garth ordered, facing through the cockpit at the tower. Ralt stood outside of the tower looking down.
“Open the door!” Garth shouted.
“Did you erase the work log?” Ralt asked.
“Yes. I erased the work log. Open the hanger. We need to leave. Now!” Garth ordered.
Ralt then entered the tower and began the authorization process to open the hanger. Garth set Miles in the pilot’s seat as Octorl hovered into the shuttle. Garth then ran back out on to the hanger floor, Lalia rounded the corner her face void of color; full of fear and short of breath. The Convoy guards then unholstered their weapons firing a volley of hot plasma rounds.
“Doctor Tarrus! Come with us!” Garth shouted, beckoning her with his hands.
Lalia strode in a few steps into the shuttle as Garth sealed the hatch. Lalia fell into the passenger’s seat gasping for air, a blank-faced Miles staring at her. Octorl spliced one of his cabled arms into the pilot’s console and activated the shuttle’s thrusters.
The shuttle lifted its nose and slid out of the hanger, the Convoy guards shooting at the tail end, the plasma leaving molten red spots where they hit. The hanger doors open and the guards each donned masks and fastened themselves to safety cables that sprung from the ground. Several of the hanger’s personnel we lifted off of the ground only to be caught in a precautionary net a few feet from the gaping mouth of space. Ralt sealed the hanger at his console, he turned to see the chaos, but instead found Alvar Tarr and three of his men heavily armed standing at the door.
“We should probably talk.” Alvar concluded, with a gun raised between Ralt’s eyes.