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   Chapter 17 No.17

High Steaks By Christina Engela Characters: 5689

Updated: 2018-06-30 12:01


"Okay." Tim said after the wave of mirth had faded. "What's your plan for getting outta here?"

"Plan?" Said Deire. "No plan, Mr. Skooch! Those fellers've set up a shield of some kind over the tarmac!"

"Yuh." Triple-J agreed. "No way to take off or land through it!"

Well that's a bit of a bugger! Thought Tim. If they couldn't get the ship off the ground, then they were stuck here! A shield like that wouldn't keep an incoming ship from landing anywhere else on Deanna – but since that was illegal, all ships on Deanna were already parked on the tarmac under the shield at the time of the seizure, and were therefore trapped! That way, obviously, the fascists hoped to keep anyone from leaving the colony!

"No gaps in the shield?" He queried hopefully. "Are you sure?"

"Touches the ground all the way round!" Bubba said, pointing dramatically in a circle, almost hitting Triple-J on the head. "Like a lid on a pot!"

"Can't be!" Said Tim. "We just drove a Jeepo through the fence and onto the tarmac!"

There was an awkward silence.

"Weeeeell…" Said Bubba, "It touches the top o'the fence, then – all the way round. Er – except where it goes along the roof of the terminal building!"

"We still can't get through!" Deire shrugged. "There ain't any gaps big enough fer muh Celeste!"

The average loderunner would never fit through a gap under the height of the fences anyway. Not that Celeste was average…

"But – what about the terminal building?" Asked Dory, excitedly jumping in.

"The terminal buildin'?" Deire asked, giving her a blank stare.

"Yea – it's not very strong – it's basically just glass and roof sheeting in places! Can't you just fly the ship through it?"

n, she brought out two lengths of discarded metal pipe from behind her back and, whirling them around, she delivered a barrage of crushing but melodic blows to her target's faces, necks and abdomens! Moments later, the two troopers were lying on the tar, unconscious and bleeding!

Tracey felt quite pleased with herself! It had been a while since she'd done anything like that! She dropped the pipes and relieved the troopers of their weapons, slinging one over her shoulder. Then she retrieved her jacket from behind the Jeepo, fixed the hem of her top, and approached the tricky choice she had between the two bikes.

Both hover-bikes looked like recent models. They weren't built for high speed, they looked like a couple of cruisers, high chrome handlebars with dangly leather straps on the ends, funky paint and chrome bits. They were flashy, made for image. Tracey picked the one that had raised metal letters spelling 'HOG' on the hump in front of the saddle. On older bikes, that would have been a fuel tank, but on these, it was only a baffle plate that covered the fuel cells. It had skulls and ankhs painted across it.

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