"It just doesn't feel right. Sitting here, when they're fighting." complained Solomon to anyone who'd listen on the Bridge. It was clear he was the only one present who felt that way. Bridge crew, had gotten used to the safety of the room, warm heaters in the ceiling and at their feet. The coffee machine gently humming away in the corner. They had no intention of going into a combat zone, sleep in a metal suit, eat cold food from a can whilst bullets whizz past your head at any given moment. They worked and lived in almost luxury.
As ninth and tenth companies breached the hull of the pirate ship, they came across hostile forces instantly. The battle to get into the ship was short and bloody for the defenders, soon the ninth and tenth company had spread through the veins of the ship, like a cleansing cure, killing all the bacteria that freely flowed around the ship as pirates. Solomon watched on his screen the kill cam of the ninth company captain. He could see the darkened slightly corroded halls, hardly able to tell the difference between the blood or the rust that covered the walls like a rough paint job. Her weapon raised and trained at the end of the hall as the camera panned from left to right, checking the smaller conduit ducks for hidden enemies, Solomon could feel his own adrenaline pumping as his mind entered the combat setting, he licked his dry lips. "Door, right." came the voice of Ellen, the captain of the Ninth. She shouldered against the wall, as two others moved to the opposite side of the door, mirroring her action, they shared a quick nod, and then kicked the door in. Rushing in, weapons raised, shouting at the top of their lungs."Down! Down! Down!" they saw a wild haired man spin and run out of the far door, his white long coat billowing behind him as his steps echoed down into the darkness. "You two, after him!" ordered Ellen and she secured the room with her remaining four soldiers. The room seemed to be a savage form of operating theatre. Many large bright lamps stood over a long metal table that held a body, The body was pale blue and had sharp needle like teeth, its skin stretched thin over its almost exposed bones. "Nine-One to Command, are you receiving this?" came Ellen's voice over the radio, "Loud and clear Nine-One" replied Solomon "That's a Banshee on the table, make sure it's dead." he added quickly. Ellen responded by putting two bullets into the blue skull. Giving the order to make sure the room held no other enemies, they moved to the door that the white coated man fled through, the darkness engulfed them suddenly, almost like a thick fog. Solomon shuddered as the screen's void bled coldness onto his bridge. It took a second for Ellen and her squad to flick their body torches active as well as their rifle lights. Training the light over the rusted walls, the light beam revealing only too little of it, spending extra time checking the small maintenance vents to hear a voice just inside the blackness of the corridor, bringing her flash light up, revealing the surgeon who had so recently fled. "Hold it, right there!" he spat, Solomon swore at the image he saw. The two soldiers knelt on the floor, facing Ellen with their hands on the heads. The man stood behind them, holding a pistol to each of their heads. "I know the deal. You finally figured it out! But I'm not going back! Too many fingers in pies!" he dribbled loudly. The darkness and his wild hair shrouded his identity, but Solomon recognised the voice, even through the slight static of the receiver. "Fredericks." he uttered with disgust. "What are you talking about?" quizzed Ellen, asking both Fredericks and Solomon. "Come any closer and I'll blow their heads off! In fact, yes! Come closer, I shoot, less fingers in pies!" he spat with desperation. Solomon watched him for a second and smiled before giving Ellen her orders. "Take him down, but I want him alive."
Fredericks spat at the wall, letting some spit dribble down his chin, he chuckled. "Yessss... that's it. You don't ha-" a single gunshot echoed through the corridor, smoke spilled from the end of Ellen's gun. Fredericks was thrown backwards clutching his shoulder, that now spurted blood. Within the instant of the mad man going down, the two kneeling soldiers sprung to action and restrained him, kicking the two weapons aside, the man cried and squirmed. Solomon watched from the bridge as Ellen's medic stemmed the blood flow and made him ready to bring back to The Evergreen.
The two ships lay side by side, joined by two walk ways, almost like umbilical cords, feeding a steady flow of troops in and out of the two ships as needed. The taking of the pirate forced the attention of the bridge crew to watch the monitors, looking for any incoming contacts or keeping their eyes on the combat screens. Nobody noticed the planet below slowly growing in size as the two vessels had been caught in its gravity well and Merriden IV pulled ever so slightly. The Evergreen's engines did not have the power to maintain both ships connected in orbit.