-SALOON AT THE EDGE OF EVERYWHERE-

Chapter Thirty Five

Rufus waited until the last second before lifting his ship to put the Golden Gate Bridge between his ship and the fast approaching mercenary ship. Traffic was light at this time of the day, but Rufus hoped the pilot of the other ship wouldn’t do anything too crazy, like destroying the bridge just to get a good shot at him. It seemed like a good bet, but one can never tell for sure.

Rubar was actually considering using a few of his drones to do exactly that, but he held himself back. Killing even more humans in full view of everyone might be a bad idea. Here he was laboring under the false belief that he had just killed the humans in the Navy launch.

Even as Rubar turned his mind to figuring out how he could get out of this galaxy without being followed, a voice came over his comm system on a powerful multi-frequency military hailing link.

“Reaver ship, Reaver ship,” said a commanding human female voice, “This is the U. S. S. S. Obama. You have fired on a United States Naval vessel. You are ordered to return to Treasure Island and land your ship now, or I will be forced to open fire on you. Reaver ship, respond and comply. Begin a slow-speed landing approach immediately. Reaver ship, do you acknowledge, over?”

Rubar had no way of knowing what types of weaponry this human ship might have. For all he knew the U. S. Navy might be purchasing Reaver weapons of their own, or something even worse. He certainly had no way of knowing that the Obama had not yet been mounted with any offensive or defensive weapons at all. But the human ship was big, and Rubar did know that he did not want to die if he could help it. He didn’t particularly want to go to prison either.

He let his mind race, trying to come up with a viable escape plan. I don’t know if I have mentioned to you yet that ships can not ‘pop’ back to a Nexus Point from within the atmosphere of a planet, but that is indeed the case, so that option was not open to Rubar. Also, with the large warship already in orbit above him, it seemed unlikely that he could break through the stratosphere without calling down an attack from above. They had all the advantages, so all he could do was stall for time. He dropped his speed and commenced a wide turn back towards Treasure Island, passing over the Golden GateBridge twice in the process.

“I am complying with your orders, Obama,” Rubar said aloud, but he went on, “I never attacked anybody. It was that maniac who ran into me! I think he crashed into the other small ship. This is all a mistake. Maybe they had a malfunction of some sort.”

A new voice came over the line. “Give it up, Rubar,” said the voice, “We know all about Enzyme Corp and the pirates, and your part in all this, so just land and give yourself up. I am following behind you in your other ship, and the Obama is tracking you with all its heavy weapons, so be a good boy, all right?”

So, this is the voice of the pilot in my other ship, eh, thought Rubar? Out loud he said, “I swear, there must be some sort of a mix-up. I didn’t do anything wrong. Can I ask who you are, sir?” He thought he sounded suitably sincere.

“My name is Rufus Blacke,” said the voice.

Rubar used one of his least favorite human sayings; “Oh, crap,” was the one he used.

Rubar was slowly dropping his ship to a hover next to the torn up cement where the launch had been blown to small shreds. So far he was following Rufus’s orders to the letter. He pulled a cell phone Dalton had supplied him with from a pocket in his battle harness and placed a call. He heard Dalton’s voice snap at him, “Why are you calling me? You should be on your way out of here by now.”

“We have a problem,” Rubar told the creepy little human, in what humans might describe as an understatement. There was silence on the line. Dalton didn’t like problems unless he was making them for other people. Rubar went on to say, “Rufus Blacke has my other ship, and he knows all about the Bosses’ plans, and so does the U. S. Navy. My ship has been damaged, and a Navy warship is blocking my escape route.”

Dalton refused to be inconvenienced by someone else’s bad luck. “Did you finish the job?” he asked over the phone.

Rubar could now see the passengers from the Navy launch emerging from the rocks at the edge of the field. “No, they were waiting for me. It was a trap. You have to hide me and my boys until we can figure out some way to get us out of here.”

“I don’t see how that’s my problem,” said Dalton icily, just before he hung up on Rubar.

Not your problem, eh, Rubar fumed to himself? Well, it’s about to become your problem.

As the two Reaver ships came to a halt inches above the Treasure Island landing strip, 2^nd Lt. Sarota led his mixed group out of the rocks. Two of the launches’ crewmen were leading the blind Marine by the either arm. 2^nd Lt. Sarota was not a happy man by any means. He did not yet know that his trooper’s eyesight would return later in the day, so he was feeling that he had lost one of his men to enemy action, but in a sort of preventable fashion.

The two ships hovering over the pad were identical, and he could not see through the thick, armored material of the windows. He assumed that the lead ship was the one that had attacked his people, but he was taking no chances. He had his eight remaining Marines spread out around both ships and cover them with their weapons. He himself kept an eye on the Wasp Whip prisoners, who were handcuffed together in pairs. The handcuffs were actually around their ankles because strangely enough, handcuffs do not work well on beings that have no hands.

The 2^nd Lt. saw a small hatch in the side of the rear ship pop open, and there was Rufus Blacke, waving away like he had just returned from a vacation and the Lt. was there to greet him. No hatches were opening on the other ship, he noted. He was about to order one of his men forward to bang on the hatch, when suddenly the ship shot forward straight at him. He had just enough time to yell for the pirates to duck, and then throw himself down on the landing pad. The Reaver ship passed over him at about twelve feet in the air and wouldn’t have hit anybody anyway, but the 2^nd Lt. deserves credit for being so quick, both on his feet and off.

Rubar had been looking at the OaklandBayBridge looming above him. It actually appeared to pass through a tunnel carved into the highest part of the island. Rubar decided to take a desperate chance to put some space between himself, the Navy warship, and that crazy Rufus guy.

He kicked his ship up and forward in a swift, gliding right-hand curve and began to fly along under the span of the bridge. No way the humans could possibly shoot down at him now, he thought happily. Not with car-loads of humans riding above him like a new force shield. He gave a grunting cough that was the laughter of his kind.

Oh come on, Rufus whined to the universe at large, why do all my plans go wrong half way through? But even as he was whining he shouted at the young Marine Lieutenant, “Get all your Marines on my ship now.”

In less time than it takes to tell, well, maybe not quite, but I do love that expression, Mathew Sarota had his eight troopers in the cabin of the Reaver ship. He left the blind one behind in the care of the Navy launch crew, but he couldn’t just leave the prisoners standing around, so they ended up on the ship as well.

The little cabin was fairly well filled by nine Marines, ten Wasp Whips and Kirk Wallson. Rufus was back in the cockpit already and the ship was moving before everyone could find a seat. There followed a rather amusing tangle of black, yellow and camouflage patterned limbs before everyone got sorted out.

“Don’t worry, Lieutenant,” the Lieutenant heard Rufus shout from the front of the craft, “I think I know exactly where that other ship is going.”

2^nd Lt. Sarota sighed. He was no longer sure if he was now under orders of the U. S. Navy, or just the crazy guy flying the ship.