"Care to tell me what has gotten over you? Why have you ditched them?" asked Vindril confused, ducking down to avoid a series of bullets from hitting him. Sorin, who was responsible for unleashing the blaze of fire and metal that was currently destroying the whole room, was right next to him, shooting some high-power bullets from his rifle. For whatever reason, the man had decided to side with him and Ar. Not that Vindril wasn't happy about such a result. But still…
"I guess I didn't like what the other side was offering. The Empire didn't exactly feel trustworthy. It's just-boom- a thing that had to be done." said Sorin, perhaps annoyed by such a gruesome fight. "After all, I don't like being used, just to find myself with a knife on my back. Those assholes were surely going to do that. I just know it. Anyway-boom- we should find a way to take care of them."
Then Sorin turned around to address Ar, who was busy emptying their guns against the nearest enemy. "By the way, tin man, I suppose you haven't got something around that belt of yours that can get us out of this alive…right?"
"Instead of wasting time asking stupid questions like that, why don't you focus on killing as many assholes as possible?" asked Ar, clearly annoyed by such a pointless question. If they had something like that in their possession, surely they would have already used it. Or if they had not, then they would have surely had devised some plan to use it. So what was the point of even asking something like that?
"Oh, excuse me for asking something so trivial, Mr perfection. I'm sure an asshole like you has already planned everything ou-"
Vindril got in the middle of it before it could have gotten out of hand. He was already stressed enough as it is, with mercs shooting at him like he was some sort of shooting target to be shot down; and he certainly didn't need to add a quarrel to calm down to his already full plate.
"Why don't we -bang- focus at the task at hand? You two lovebirds can -boom- quarrel all you want on board of the ship."
"What?!" they said, almost in unison.
Great. Now their focus was directed at him. Now what the hell was he supposed to say?
Failing to come up with anything that might have convinced those two, that were evidently two polar opposites, to work together, he shifted his focus on shooting straight. However, he was aware that he didn't have enough ammunitions to carry out a lengthy gunfight. The situation had to be resolved quickly and without a plan that required a lot of firepower. However, even though he knew it was like that, Vindril did not come up with any bright ideas that he so much yearned for. It seemed like that was the end of the read for them.
Or was it?
"Take this." suddenly blurted out Ar. In their hand, ready to be thrown to the enemy, there was the grenade they had been tinkering with in the last minutes. As they passed to him that spheric object, Vindril paused briefly to inspect it. Something had obviously been altered. That much was obvious. Still, no matter how much he inspected it, he just couldn't seem to understand what removing a part of the outer shell could have accomplished. If anything, it was just more likely to explode prematurely.
"What am I supposed to do with this?" he asked confused.
Ar pointed straight ahead. "Launch it there, right beside that pillar."
Vindril groaned, but looked ahead nonetheless. "…I, uhm, fail to realize what would doing that accomplish?" He tried not to sound stupid, feeling like he somehow needed to show a certain acumen to what were soon going to be his traveling companion. Needless to say, he failed miserably.
"…I swear, sometimes I even doubt my sanity. If this is all that you amount to, than we kiss goodbye to our chance to leave the planet."
"Assuming we can even reach that mysterious starship of his. Which, I think is highly unlikely as things stand now."
"That is something that can be changed, if he stops wasting time and do as I told him."
"I guess-" said Vindril angered. "That you two can agree on the strangest things." He was tempted to lash out all his frustrations, but ultimately decided to stop; he figured it wasn't exactly the wisest decision to create another tense situation just to feel better. Ignoring both of them, he pressed down the activation button, hoping it wouldn't outright explode into his hands. Then, when nothing of the sort had happened, he launched the grenade right where Ar had insisted. A metallic noise would have followed the thud the grenade made when it fell right beside the pillar, just a few paces away from the solid base that supported it. But the constant gunfire that was reigning supreme in that small confined space was so loud that it engulfed it without any sort of problem.
"…Now what?" asked Vindril. That was a little bit disappointing. Were was all the fire, death and destruction he had imagined?
"Now we wait."
"…For wha-"
BOOM!
Vindril crouched down as the powerful explosion raised enough dust and fire to resemble a volcano. He didn't know, and honestly he wasn't even sure if he wanted to, what Ar had done to that heat grenade, but that was no normal detonation. Sure, heat grenades were powerful devices that packed a punch, but that thing was on another level. That small explosive weapon had packed so much force that it had destroyed the pillar, making it collapse in sea of dust and rubble that covered them all in a thick layer. He cursed out loud. What the fuck was that thing? He had to know. Sorin instead looked just pretty fucking pissed about it.
"Are you out of your fucking MIND?!" screamed Sorin as the last piece of rubble settled down.
"Yeah!" echoed Vindril. "What the hell was that?"
In response Ar simply shrugged it off like it was nothing. "I had to do something. You two were standing there waiting for who knows what. I admit I might have underestimated….just a little bit; but it has served us well, didn't it? Most of the mercs are dead. I don't know what you're complaining about."
"And blowing up the whole thing was the damned solution? You lunatic asshole!" screamed Sorin. By the spirited look his eyes were giving off, he was even madder than before.
Vindril calmed down. Now wasn't the time to investigate…whatever Ar had done to that grenade. "…Oh well. At least we've taken care of the mercs. I sure would have liked a warning though…"
"…How the hell are you so calm?" he thundered looking at him in the eyes. "This asshole had almost got us killed, with whatever the hell he did to that grenade, and it doesn't bother you?"
"I never said I was ok with it. But I still find it intriguing."
"Intriguing? What part of it, any of it, you find intriguing?"
"Well, you have to admit that whatever the hell that was, it was sight to behold. I've never seen something like that before…"
Sorin deadpanned him. "…"
A sound made Vindril pause and turn around. It was a merc.
Vindril quickly shot down the unfortunate man that had managed to survive that damned explosion, effectively putting him out of his misery. A metal bar, short and deadly to the point, had pierced him through and through, probably perforating his lungs by how short his breath had seemed. "Listen, I'm not saying you're in the wrong. Far from it. It's just…we have other things to worry about." said Vindril as he placed the gun back into its holster. "Let's just be grateful we've stopped them without dying."
Everyone silently nodded.
Vindril stopped at that point, not wanting to waste away that small victory they achieved thanks to Ar and their pocket bomb. If nothing else, that was one problem down. Time to solve the other one.
//////
Despite their shared knowledge, transporting a heavy cryo-statis capsule without having at disposal any of the correct equipment to do it wasn't exactly one of those things that was in the realm of any of them. Moral of the story? They had to improvise.
First thing first, they wondered around in order to make a list of what could have been used to craft something solid enough to transport that thing, avoiding the utter devastation the room was in. Many lifeless bodies were scattered all around, some more torn apart then others. To Vindril it was a gruesome picture he could barely stomach. Even if had already dealt in the past with dead bodies, the horrific display that was in front of him was so crude and barbaric it reminded him of a butcher's shop, with blood and bones constantly donning every single wall. A gag reflex, pure as it was visceral, almost made him empty the contents of his stomach all over the remnants of what had been a perfectly even floor. The corpse beside him was the cause of such a reaction. The lower body was mostly intact. Only a couple of wounds were littering his flesh. The upper instead -Ugh-
He averted his gaze before it was too late. The man's face had been so devoured by the flames, the projectiles, and every other contraption that was capable of mingling a body, that it looked like a deformed piece of meat than a living person face. Maybe being blasted into oblivion by a hyper heat grenade wasn't such a bad way to go…
"I've found something." said Sorin. By what Vindril could tell, his gaze was pointed at a pile of rubble that was nearby.
"Is it useful?" Ar asked.
"Of course." replied Sorin annoyed. "Why would I tell you otherwise?"
"I don't know. Just like I don't really know you, save that you're called Sorin. Which makes you a liability at best, a problem at worst."
As Vindril reached Sorin, standing right beside him, he saw him turn around enraged. Vindril tried to interfere; to calm things down like he had done before. But this time Sorin wasn't having any of that. "Now listen here. And listen very well. I've had enough with that damned character of yours. I might not be the best brawler in the galaxy. Far from it. But I'm never going to let myself be disrespected like that. A problem? Don't fucking kid me. After that last explosion, you're a much bigger problem than I could ever be…"
"…That was the only way. You know it. You can delude yourself if you like. It shall not change reality."
Vindril gritted his teeth, frustration evident on his face. The tension was already boiling hot, and Ar wasn't exactly the type to shy away from a fight. True, that time when they had sneaked inside that damned place in the Academy, they chose to not fight it out with the guards they had encountered on their way. He had to admit it though. In the spur of the moment, Vindril had thought them to be cowards. It was his preference to outright remove a problem when he was faced with one, not avoid it. To his own experience, it was just better that way. Every time he had left a thing unresolved, it always had come back to bite him in the ass at the worst possible time. But now? Well, now he saw things differently. At least in that particular situation.
Vindril's mouth almost dropped to the floor when Ar simply walked the distance that was separating them in the calmest demeanour he had seen from them. And yet he was certain, as certain was death if exposed to the frigid temperatures of open space without heating, that Ar, as far as he could tell, wasn't like that. He shrugged, clearly confused by such development. Then he turned around, completely disinterested.
After leaving his companions to…whatever they were keen on doing, he focused on analysing the thing Sorin had pointed out.
Buried beneath a piece of the broken pillar they had blown up, hidden by the remnants of what he assumed to be a broken piece of tech, there was an armor. How, exactly, had it found its way down there wasn't clear to him. A possible explanation could be that it was somehow lost during all that chaos that had ensued in the previous fight with the pirates firsts, and the mercs later. It was a possibility worth considering. He paused for a brief moment. No. That was just too unlikely to be true. It must have found its way there in some other way. Too bad he wasn't all that interested in finding out about its origins though. What he really wanted to know was why had that piece of equipment attract Sorin's attention. So he knelt down to one knee and began looking at it thoroughly. However, nothing looked particularly interesting. To his eyes, that was just an armor that was sold without any kind of regulations on the Starnet infinite range of protective gears. Even to the second glance he threw at it, nothing seemed to stand out. He concluded it was nothing special. Ohhh how wrong he was…
Perhaps there were some parts of it that could be used to craft a contraption capable of aiding them in moving that damned thing? He seriously doubted that piece of metal could offer them any worth the trouble; but he also had to admit he wasn't an expert in protective gears. Yeah, he could point the metal they were made. Even the maker, if luck was on his side. But recognizing the endless possibilities those protective gears could come equipped with? No chance in hell. The was outright impossible.
Maybe his fellow companions could provide some insight as to why exactly was that thing supposed to help them in their time of need? Unlikely.
While Sorin had been the one that had pointed that thing out to begin with, Vindril had no way of knowing how knowledgeable was that lazy, lover of novels really was. Sure, in the months they had spent together he had always seemed pretty smart, no matter what might have transpired. Still…it's not like he really knew him.
"Turn it over." said a voice, making Vindril suddenly flinch as he realized how engrossed he had been in it. "That's where you're supped to look. Unless you fancy staring at something completely useless. If that's the case, than by all means, be my guest. But I am not going to wait for you. For any of you."
Vindril was surprised. When the hell had he moved behind him? Wasn't he busy in carrying out a pointless discussion with Ar? Weren't they on the verge of coming to fists? It seemed he had thought about it all way too hard, if didn't even notice a thing. Nonetheless, now he was curious. What was on the back of it?
As Ar also joined them in their inspection, standing right next to Vindril's bruised body, Sorin knelt down and turned it over without too much of a stride. Vindril squinted his eyes, his curiosity growing exponentially. After a couple of seconds, he sighed out loud. Nothing, literally nothing, stood out. To him, that was just another discarded, or perhaps abandoned in a hurry, piece of equipment that had been deemed to be worthless. But was it really?
Vindril tried to understand what was causing Sorin to affirm he had found something. He really tried. But for the love of God, he couldn't really understand what that man was thinking. "…Is showing me that supposed to uplift my mood? 'Cause it sure isn't."
Sorin deadpanned him. "…Seriously? You're not noticing anything? Even like this?"
He turned the armor he was now holding in his hands near a piece of rabble that was on fire, to give him better view on it.
Vindril shook his head. "Uhhhh…no?"
Sorin let go of the armor, making it bounce on the tattered floor. Then, very softly, he mumbled something under his breath. Whatever was that he said, it clearly wasn't a compliment.
When he calmed down, he grabbed the armor once again, only to fiddle with his gloved finger over the cold surface of it. Moments later, a blue light popped up, only to reveal a couple of small, hidden propulsors from it. Well, well, well. Now that was a surprise!
"Now do you see why I'm so interested in it, or do I have to spell it out for you? I better hope it's the first one…"
Vindril simply stared at propulsors, not uttering another word. Were those little things supposed to carry them out the Plains? There was no way those minuscule things could accomplish something so difficult. Leaving aside their propelling force, they were bound to run out of fuel, whatever that was, sooner or later. Probably sooner, given their compact size.
…Right?
There was only one way to find out. He looked up at the ceiling, pondering how on earth he had ended up in that absurd situation. Ahhhh…what a day…