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   Chapter 23 No.23

Loderunner By Christina Engela Characters: 5059

Updated: 2018-06-30 12:01


Just as he was about to go again, he paused to ask another important question. "You have working suits?"

"Sure!" Deire called after him in a satisfied voice.

"You better! I'm not going over there using that thing!"

Deire gave Vic a high five and grinned. "That'll teach 'em t'shoot at mah Celeste!"

* * *

The inside of the shuttle was quite neat and rather comfortable looking as Tim exited the small cramped airlock. Gravity was working again. He popped the seal on his helmet visor and his eyes found Jamie. He was sitting at the control console formerly occupied by the pilot, where he unlocked the door for them. Vic came past him from behind, carrying a bag of tools, popped her visor open and indicated stern-wise with her head.

"You know what to do?" He asked her.

"Jus' like throwing a wrench into a gearbox!" She grinned.

He waved at Jamie, who was looking his usual frightened self.

"You okay?" He smiled, and indicated the bag he was carrying. Jamie nodded and gave a sad little smile.

"Better get this on." He jibed. "It's cold outside."

"What did you do with them?" He asked. Just then there was a faint humming in the air, followed by the sparkle of materialization. When the light show faded, two round flat lumps hung in mid-air for a split second before thumping to the deck.

"That answer your question?" Tim smiled. Jamie looked like relief had just flooded over him, and he was still enjoying it. The boy rushed up to Tim and threw his arms around him.

"Hey, i

ed some mob stooges and rescued a hostage and blew up their shuttle at the next spaceport bar would be rather poor judgment. You don't want their friends to hear about it and come after us as well, do you?"

"Yeah. Yer right." Said Deire. "That would be bad."

Bad? Tim thought. Giggling Harry was just small fry, and he intended to have a little chat with him on his return, but these people were connected to more dangerous fish than him. People with connections. Resources. Money. A limitless supply of men with no necks. Bad? Bad didn't even begin to describe it.

* * *

"Okay Jamie." Tim smiled from where he sat in the ships' old and worn but rather comfortable lounge, looking at him across a coffee table, sipping a mug of hot choc. There were some old magazines and other assorted clutter on it. They were alone, where Tim was trying to get to the bottom of this whole mystery.

"My name is Jamie." Said Jamie, flicking back his short blond fringe. "But it's not Smith. It's Vallantdorf."

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