Nellie and Nanites - Bk2 - Ch.7

Chapter Seven

Transport

Crush-Cha pushed out the grating on the roof vent and crawled out onto the frozen roof. The cold air tightened his scales instantly. He had built up quite a sweat in the tight confines of the vent work, and he couldn’t help but shiver.

Despite the freezing temperatures burning against his naked form, he was careful to stay flat against the roof as he crawled towards the edge.

Looking over the side showed a several-story drop onto metal grating, so that side was out. By the time he got around to the next edge, his hands and feet were going numb. What was worse was that he could see the wall was a good distance away.

Getting out of the city was his best bet, at least for now. The Hub was just too well guarded for him to escape detection. That meant over or under the walls.

First, he had to get off this roof before he froze to death.

A drainage pipe for runoff water was clinging to the corner of the building, but he ignored it. Idiots tried to climb up or down buildings on those things. They broke every time unless they were reinforced, and who reinforced a drainage pipe?

He kept going, looking for a better option. One that did not promise to drop him to his death halfway down.

He found his escape point on the third side of the processing plant. An angled external vent carried gases from the lower levels and delivered them to a condenser. It would be warm, which he needed, but not hot.

Lowering himself over the edge was an exercise in terror. They never eliminated that in training; they just taught you to work around it. Once his frozen feet touched down, he paused, letting the warm metal bring a bit of circulation back into them. Once he was sure he could balance on them, he lowered himself and walked his hands down the wall and onto the thick, warm ducting.

“Hey, it could be worse,” He told himself. “It could be snowing.”

Chuckling at his own joke, he crawled along the top of the duct as it slowly angled down the side of the building. By the time it vanished back into the wall, he was low enough to drop the last story to the floor, rolling as he landed.

Crush-cha thanked his luck for the fact the Feds seemed to be keeping this area clear of people. They probably didn’t want anyone to know exactly how many people they had killed.

He wondered idly if they were all from the Hub or if they were shipping them in. Deciding he didn’t want to know, Crush kept to the shadows, feeling the cold bite him again.

He found what he was looking for behind the processing center.

The Feds were stripping people. They no doubt intended to recycle their belongings into things they could use, so they had to store them somewhere. That somewhere was the large piles being shoveled into the backs of waiting anti-grave sleds by a set of mechanical arms.

Once more glad for the level of automation the Hub used, Crush sidled up to the edge of one of the sleds and dragged some items off it.

Hurrying back into the shadows, he examined his haul.

It wasn’t much, but it was a start. Shrugging into the overalls that were a size or two too big for him as he decided they would at least cut off the wind. He even found a belt to keep everything in about the right place on his body. Thankfully, he didn’t have much of a tail, or he’d have to cut a hole in this thing for it. As it was, it would be fine. All the better if he was seen to look as non-Brackta as possible. There were few brackta in the Feds.

It took him another trip to find a pair of boots that fit passably, and he tore up an old shirt as a scarf. A large hat pulled way down hid his lack of ears and let him start to warm up.

No gloves, unfortunately, so he tucked his hands under his arms as he walked away from the processing center, still keeping to the shadows.

In no time at all, he made it to the service tunnels. He’d not spent that much time at the hub, but life on a station gave you a nose for the service tunnels, even on a planet.

Some things were universal.

Dropping into the steamy, stinking tunnels, he grumbled to himself as he began to move in the direction of the walls. He had decided to make his way out under the landing bays. It was the busiest area, but one where noises like him trying to bash his way out would be hidden.

He hoped.

Crush was pleased to find the tunnels closer to the ships were warm, if only by comparison. He took the opportunity to listen at gratings as he went. Any news was worthy; anything he could learn now might be a weapon later on.

It was a poor crop on his way to the landing bays. Three groups grumbling about rationing, one woman complaining loudly that the Fed men didn’t like Brackta women, and a maintenance worker wandering along having an imaginary argument with his husband, who had apparently kicked him out for drinking too much after work.

A more pleasing bounty was the lockers he found in the small service depot. He got himself some better boots, a decent pair of gloves, and a pair of overalls that fit.

He put the larger ones on over the top, just for the added warmth. Crush-Cha felt a little bad about stealing the tools and the small carrying bag, but not too much.

None of it looked particularly well-loved and needs must in a time of war.

He also snagged a pair of goggles, as his eyes always complained in cold wind.

Suitably dressed, he slouched along the tunnels, trying to seem like a disgruntled maintenance worker forced to do overtime.

It seemed to work, as no one gave him a second glance as he made his way past the landing bays and the massive scrap piles above and into the less-used areas.

Just as he was about to call it a lost cause, Crush felt a cold breeze on his face and followed it down one of the drainage pipes.

To his surprise, he found a hole in the metal grating. Looking carefully, it almost looked like it had been cut.

Taking his luck where he could, Crush sat on the edge of the pipe and waited for the sounds of a shift change above.

===<<<>>>===

Nellie arrived back at the yard after dropping Karl-Oti off at the town to find a large shuttle parked outside the earth walls. Lucy had warned her that the Duke’s people had arrived when they got back in range of her robots, so she didn’t panic.

A heavy-looking digger was cutting a deep trench around the outside of the yard, prepping for the walls, she imagined.

The machine's massive blade was biting several feet into the ground in a single go, and there was already almost a mile of trench dug. The machine itself was pure Duke all the way through.

It had probably been yellow originally, but it looked like a graffiti artist had a meltdown at some point. A massive snarling face on the front led back through reds and golds until a massive pair of golden brown, scaled buttocks marked the back.

Nellie landed and headed over straight away, noticing Paren was nowhere to be seen.

“She’s on the digger,” Lucy told her immediately. “Where else would she be?” The AI sounded highly amused, and Nellie quickly saw why.

Paren was standing on the roof of the digger’s cab, yelling charge every time the digger cut into the earth.

“Hey, Sis!” Paren yelled and waved. “Can I have one of these? Please?”

Nellie just waved as she looked on from the top of the wall.

“Get the scouts to carry you down!” Paren yelled, “That’s what I did!”

Good to know she hadn’t just gotten excited and leaped down. That would have been hard to explain.

Lucy brought the scouts over and lowered Nellie to the floor.

A woman with orange and blue hair came over to see her immediately. The woman had the longest tail Nellie had ever seen on a brackta. It swished and twitched constantly as she introduced herself.

“Hey, I’m Vic-Ki. Duke sent my brother and me over to make a start on the wall.” She smiled warmly, her dark scales marked with bright flashes of orange in stripes. “Call me Vic,” she said, shaking Nellie’s hand.

“Nice to meet you,” Nellie smiled. “I hope my sister hasn’t been bothering you too much?”

“Are you kidding?” Vic laughed. “My idiot brother Vinnie finally found someone who likes that exercise in bad taste of his.”

“It makes an impression, that’s for sure,” Nellie glanced at the large pair of buttocks, breaking into a laugh as a belch of steam came out of the hidden tailpipe.

“Scuse me!” A man’s voice called in mock embarrassment.

“For the love of the bolts!” Vic sighed. “Vinnie, act your damn age!” She yelled at the top of her lungs.

The machine belched out another blast of steam, and faint laughing could be heard.

While Paren kept up her demands from the top of the digger, Nellie had Lucy working on the parts she had gotten today. The massive digger was a great distraction, and in no time, the control boards were repaired.

With a little nanite cleaning and touch-up, the rest of the parts were ready to be transferred, and Nellie sent them back with the twins when they were done digging.

Paren looked forlorn as the mighty digger, her new favorite thing in the world, was loaded onto their ship and flown away.

“Wherever we go,” Paren said wistfully, “I want one of them. Or two.” She grinned. “So, what’s next?”

“Dinner,” Nellie said, “Then some sleep. Getting all those parts isn’t exactly easy, you know?”

“No,” Paren said dryly, “I don’t because you won’t let me come with you.”

“This is a little hard to hide,” Nellie tapped on the smart gauntlet. “Something like that stands out.”

“And the crappy-looking shuttles don’t?” Paren asked.

Nellie showed her the trick with the shuttles.

“Cheat!” Paren accused as the paint and rust rolled back and forth into several different patterns. “You’re using nanites!”

===<<<>>>===

Crush-Cha pushed off from the wall and let himself slide down the slight incline. It wasn’t much, but it would save him from breaking his legs.

The impact at the bottom still hurt; there were just some things you couldn’t roll away from.

Catching his breath, Crush-Cha wished he believed in the ancestors, gods, or anyone else to pray to.

The next few minutes would be everything. Either the auto-cannons would recognize his borrowed maintenance overalls and toolbox, or it would shoot him.

Balling up the overlarge overalls and holding them in his arms, Crush-Cha made a run for it.

Not that it would help if the cannons fired. They were designed to hit ships. He wouldn’t even be mist.

The run up the small hill was the longest few seconds of his life. With every step, he expected to be vaporized. His mind fixated the whole way on whether he would feel it or just be gone in an instant.

Throwing himself down the far side of the hill and scrambling into the cover of the trees, he felt like his heart was going to burst through his chest.

Crouched with his back to a tree, he waited for the shaking and trembling to pass before pulling his extra overalls back on and forcing himself to his feet.

He had watched the approach they took to the Hub, and his eyes had picked out what looked like a small village a few miles to the south.

“First task, escape.” Crush-Cha said to himself as he broke into a fast jog, “Second task: survive the escape.”

The area around the Hub was generally pretty safe, but he kept an eye out as he jogged, just in case. Crush-Cha didn’t make much effort to try to hide his tracks. If anyone tracked him this far, they would catch him long before he got to the village.

If he got there first?

Well, then they could suck an egg. Crush-Cha would be gone.

“Damn you, Bartlett,” Crush-Cha growled to himself as he ran over the half-frozen ground, “Did you really need to hit the damn planet?”

As he jogged along, his eyes raked the dust cloud blotting out most of the sunlight. “Did you even consider what would happen to it once you did?”

That was a pointless question, of course. Crush-Cha knew Bartlett from when they were both grunts. The man followed the letter of the rules and regulations. Never a deviation.

He was also a cold bastard and would give exactly zero shits about the people on this planet on the best of days.

Crush-Cha may have been the intelligence officer in their outfit, but Bartlett was enough to give even their commanders nightmares.

Rules were all very well and good, but following them blindly would always end in nightmares.

That was the reason they kicked Bartlett out of the regs. Too good at following orders.

None of that changed the fact some idiot gave the man a badge. Crush-Cha had to admit the man had stood his duty, however. When the shit hit the fan, Bartlett was there.

“A lot of good it did,” Crush stopped for a second, getting his breath back. The hunger was really starting to gnaw at him now. “But I will admit you tried.”

The village was not exactly what he hoped for. Crush had jogged around the outside, calling out for help. Once he found the breach, it was clear why no one answered.

The place was empty. Not even a single soul remained. Boot marks were everywhere, and Crush was willing to bet the Feds rounded all this lot up and took them to the Hub.

Were they amongst the dead? Crush-Cha shook himself and got to work searching. Most of the places were cleared out, looters having picked over the area some time ago.

The breached wall didn’t make much sense at first until Crush realized it stopped people setting up here. Those walls were not just decoration, even this close to the Hub.

Well, he decided, it didn’t matter much as he sure wasn’t staying. While he struck out most places, Crush did find some food in the odd storage cupboard or overlooked house.

His best find was in a run-down place that was built right up against the wall. It was a small anti-grav bike with fully charged cells half buried under some fallen boxes.

To his delight, there was an old rifle tucked along the side. It was an antique, but it would still shoot.
“Well, Crush,” He said to himself, “Looks like you are gonna make it after all.”

He dragged everything out and then got the bike out. He then put everything back, hiding that the bike had ever been there.

With a last longing look towards the nice, warm houses, Crush grabbed the controls and piloted the bike out of the village.

People were fighting back somewhere, and Crush-Cha was looking to join up.

===<<<>>>===

Nellie hovered carefully as the twins hooked up the giant metal lines that would securely hold the wall section. It was a massive thing, and even the large cargo shuttle had to be empty to lift it.

She could have left it to Duke’s people, of course, but with her help the wall could be done that much faster.

“All secure,” Vic’s voice came over the radio, “Slow and steady there, Bea. This big bitch will take you out of the air if it starts to sway too much.”

“Roger that, Vic, slow and steady,” Nellie called back over the radio as she gently eased the shuttle up. She felt it strain against the weight and, for a second, was tempted to push the engines harder.

Resisting the urge, she felt the massive weight start to lift. She smiled despite the tension running through her.

“All clear, Bea,” Vic called. “Try not to take any more turns than you have to, okay?”

“Gotcha,” Nellie replied. “Slow, steady, and in a straight line!”

They avoided any formal arrival and departure stuff at Duke’s place. Too much chance of someone listening in, she guessed.

Nellie eased the craft forward, getting used to the weight below her as she flew.

“Great job!” Lucy said in her ear. “You must have been taught to fly by a real expert.”

Nellie smiled. “Oh, I was. She was a right taskmaster, though.”

“A little discipline can be a lot of fun,” Lucy laughed back. “Trust me.”

Nellie flew on, trying to pretend she wasn’t blushing.