Tales Of The Rocket Patrol 3

    As the ship roared out of the atmosphere, things became a lot quieter as the transport left the atmosphere of Vector Twelve. The pilot has no trouble navigating the ship away from debris and into deep space. Once out there, he set a course for the Capital City and activated the core, which allowed the ship to move at the speed of light. It would take twelve hours for them to reach Earth Gamma, and when you were transporting prisoners, this was when the bartering phase of a prisoner's incarceration would kick in. For some reason whenever someone was arrested, they always assumed it was the transport worker who was more likely to be bribed or swayed to change their mind. For Captain Rogers, this was not the case. He was well paid, mostly because of his stellar record of long service to the Rocket Patrol. He was the least corruptible member of the unit and was given more benefits just because the Patrol didn't want to lose someone of his experience.

    Another perk was to get a rookie to do the heavy lifting for him. Rogers was even allowed to hand pick his own servant right out of the academy. No one every turned him down, not only because of his legendary status in the Patrol, but also because many recruits fresh out of the academy wanted to go out into space for their first assignment rather than get guard duty for the Capital City. It had been almost two decades since Rogers agreed to this special deal, and during that time he had worked with seven new recruits and molded each one into find members of the Patrol. The Patrol's only condition was that each rookie could only work with Rogers for a maximum of four years. Once that term was over, he had to pick someone new to work with. Only two rookies were unable to make it to the end of their term. His first was killed in action, caught off guard by a massive boa. Rogers had told the young man to stay close to the ship but he didn't listen. The other rookie that didn't make it was also injured, but she survived the ordeal. The result was the loss of a limb, which made physical work difficult. She now worked at Headquarters in the Capital City, with the division of central security if he wasn't mistaken.

    His last two rookies had taken a toll on the Captain, to the point where he honestly considered retiring for real this time. The previous rookie was none other than Amanda Starr. She was one of the toughest rookies he ever took under his wing and while some would use stubborn to describe her demeanor, Rogers preferred to call it a strong conviction. She was persistent and eager to get out there into the world. Rogers was quite concerned she would become the second companion to die on the field but it never happened. She managed to serve out the four years without much difficulty and when she took a position with the city at the end of her tour, while it surprised the Captain that she would volunteer for the job everyone dreaded to take, he had the feeling she was just giving the galaxy a breather before going back out and taking no prisoners. One of the finest cadets he ever worked with.

    Most people would have thought his favorite companion would have been Ben Roderick, but that was not the case. Rogers and Benny got along just fine and the four years flew by like it was only two months. They were so alike in both looks and personality, people could have sworn Roderick was Roger's long lost son. The Captain was happy to see Roderick move one, as the old man spent most of the four years concerned he would lose him like the previous first cadet. Roderick proved to be far too grounded, and lucky, to end that way. Rogers watched Ben's career flourish over the years but was still amused when he volunteered to do front line work with the other patrollers. The fact that a Commander wasn't too proud to do the grunt work with his fellow officers made the younger members of the Patrol look up to him. Roderick made Rogers very proud every time they met up on the field.

    Then there was his latest selection; the one that Rogers was hesitant to take. The academy literally begged Rogers to take this cadet, telling him that she was going to be expelled due to multiple counts of insubordination and he was her only chance to graduate. Miranda O'Brien had zero respect for authority, but the patrol could see her potential. She was from the planet of Ireland, and while they expected her to be a little tough, she was far worse than anyone could have imagined. In exchange for her services and efforts to round out O'Brien's rough edges, the Patrol offered to double his salary for as long as his tour with her lasted. Rogers and O'Brien struggled at first, and it led to a lot of fights. One of those fights even came to punches being tossed, and Rogers didn't hesitate to hit back knowing that people from the planet of Ireland hit everyone equally. After that altercation, and Roger's refusal to press charges for something that wasn't even illegal where she came from, O'Brien against respect for the old man and things got better from there. It was evident why the Patrol was willing to double his salary, they likely would have tripled it had he asked. It would have been well earned.

    Despite their ups and downs, O'Brien was molding into one of the finest and by far the toughest members of the Patrol the Captain had ever seen. Much so that Rogers was considering doing something he never considered before; asking for a second term with his current companion. Things were just smoothing out between them and the Captain was worried that O'Brien might fall into some old habits and mess up if assigned somewhere else too quickly. The young woman's toughness also made sleeping a little easier for him, which was important at his age. Taking on a new rookie would cause sleepless nights, something he wasn't ready to do again. Chances are if the patrol didn't approve his request to let O'Brien stay on with him for another term, or permanently, he was going to retire. After the bruises and crazy adventures he had experienced so far with the young Irish woman, Rogers couldn't see himself doing this again. When he was picking up the prisoners on the techless colony, Rogers had considered floating the idea by Benny to see what he thought about it. He decided not to tell anyone about it until he had made up his mind about what he wanted to do. He knew the other commanders, like Anders in Capital City, would want Rogers to keep taking on more rookies and use the old man as much as he could. The old man couldn't tell if he was able to do this again, especially if the next cadet was going to be as tough or stubborn as O'Brien. Rogers was clearly getting too old for this shit.

    The prisoners had been rather quiet, but Rogers could tell that one of them was eager to speak his mind. The old man, the one known as Montgomery, seemed to have that look on his face that clearly told Rogers that he wanted to speak with the Captain.

    "Don't even bother," Rogers said, holding up an open hand, "You have nothing that I want, and I make more than enough to keep me in line. Neither of us is willing to hear your offers of fortune and freedom, so keep your mouth shut and enjoy the ride to Capital City."

    "Are you sure about that?" O'Brien asked.

    "I am quite sure," Rogers answered, looking back at her and chuckling, "I know for a fact that a patrol salary is far more than what you would make on the potato fields. The work is more exciting as well and you also get to legally carry a blaster that works anywhere you want. We may not be the richest around, but you can't say we don't get our perks."

    "Should we send a message to the city?" O'Brien asked.

    "No," Rogers said without hesitation, "We're under orders to remain silent until we make orbit with the Capital."

    "Anders isn't going to like that," O'Brien told him.

    "I don't care if he doesn't," Rogers replied, "My orders come from someone who happens to outrank him."

    "Wait a second," O'Brien said, turning to face Rogers with a look of absolute shock on her face, "Roderick outranks Anders??"

    "He does," Rogers confirmed, "When two people share the same rank in the Rocket Patrol, the one who was promoted the rank first is the superior officer. So since my orders to remain silent came from Benny, what Anders thinks about it is of little concern to me, or the Commander."

    "Wow," O'Brien said, "I had no idea. What was a Commander doing at a techless colony? Why is he doing what's considered an unpopular assignment?"

    "It's not unpopular to him," Rogers answered, "Benny always liked visiting the techless colonies, and he's been a great ambassador because of his ability to get along with them."

    "I could not handle going techless for a week." O'Brien said, shuddering at the thought, "I don't know how he does it."

    "He doesn't," Rogers continued, "If the colonies knew how much tech he really had on him, we'd never hear the end of it. His ability to blend in where others cannot is what makes Benny one of the best the Patrol has to offer. And I also recommend you never play poker with the man, unless you want to lose your shirt."

    "Duly noted," O'Brien said, turning back to her panel.

    That was the longest conversation they had the entire trip back to the capital. She wasn't much of a speaker, but the Captain knew she was dependable and could handle her own in any situation. In the end, that was all he could really ask for out of a cadet.

    It didn't take long for Rogers and O'Brien to travel back to Capital City on Earth Gamma. As instructed by Commander Roderick, Rogers kept radio silence and made no stops until he was approaching the city. Once he started to see the city from his windows, he cracked open communications and began protocol for delivering prisoners. He typed in his log and quickly delivered it and waited for a response. It took only minutes for them to get a response.

    "Capital Command to transport sixty-five."

    "Transport sixty-five, Captain Rogers responding," Rogers replied, "We are five minutes out and are carrying multiple prisoners for transport from one of the techless colonies."

    "You are breaking regulations!" the other side informed him, "You are to send all logs out as you are taking off, not when you're arriving!"

    "Unless," Rogers continued, aware of the full regulation, "You are ordered to do so by a superior officer."

    There was a long pause.

    "Commander Anders will not be happy about this." The voice retorted.

    "The man who gave me these orders outranks Commander Anders." Rogers added. He loved playing that card as much as he possibly could, just rub it in their faces: my friend outranks yours. "So unless you want to be reprimanded by that Commander, I suggest you process my invoice and prepare to receive prisoners."

    There was another long pause.

    "Please bring prisoners to gate seven." 

    "Thank you," Rogers replied, "Have a nice day!"

    The old man flipped off communications, and couldn't help but chuckle as he did so. At his age, he was determined to get his laughs wherever he could find them. For him life was getting too short to care what others thought about him. He was practically untouchable at this point. Unless he shot Anders with a blaster in front of dozens of witnesses, he couldn't get into trouble if he tried.

    "You're just having too much fun with that," O'Brien said, almost ready to roll her eyes at how childish the Captain was being.

    "When you eventually get to my age," Rogers replied, "You begin to enjoy the little things. I just can't help but enjoy reminding everyone that my friend Ben outranks Anders because he took a bathroom break before the ceremony, which caused him to be late and promoted last. Wasn't Ben's fault, as new ranks are handed out in alphabetical order. So all Anders had to do was show up on time and breathe and he would have been the higher ranking officer in the system. Yet he chose to take a leak, ended up showing up late, and because of that Ben was promoted first."

    "That's it?" O'Brien said, looking rather surprised, "Roderick outranks him because he took a piss?"

    "I know," Rogers said as he laughed again, "Ain't it great?"

    "I had no idea," O'Brien admitted. It was clear that Anders went to great length to hide the real reason why Roderick outranked him.

    "If he wants to confront who was responsible for that blunder, all Anders has to do is consult a mirror, "Rogers continued, "He'll get no sympathy from me, and I'll remind him of it as often as I can."

    "Must be nice to have friends in high places," O'Brien said, surprised that one of his former rookies was the highest ranking Patrolman in the system, "How did he get the rank of Commander so quickly?"

    "That's classified," Rogers answered, "I'm not allowed to talk about it."

    A few moments later, Rogers easily landed the shuttle at the loading bay he was instructed to connect to. Once the ship had landed, Rogers could tell there was going to be an issue as many officers were waiting them for him. Many more than was needed to take five prisoners off his hands.

    "Is that Commander Anders?" O'Brien asked, pointing out the side of her window. "He doesn't look impressed."

    "He never looks impressed," Rogers replied, "Just let me do all the talking. You're just a rookie following orders."

    "Yes, Captain," O'Brien said, eager to stay out of it.

    The side door opened and Rogers slowly strolled off the ship and walked up to Commander Anders and greeted him with a half assed salute. As O'Brien had observed; Anders didn't look very impressed. As he had indicated earlier, but Rogers really didn't give a rat's ass.

    "Commander," Rogers said as he saluted, "No need for the big welcome. This is just a routine prisoner transfer."

    "If this transfer is so routine," Commander Anders started, "Why didn't you follow protocol as instructed in the Patrol guidelines for transporting anything?'

    "Because I was following orders," Captain Rogers answered as he passed the manifest and a copy of his orders over to the Commander. "I am allowed to ignore protocol of ordered to do so by a superior officer."

    Anders took the paper work from Rogers, and quickly looked over it. Right at the bottom of the listed orders was the signature that he didn't want to see; the signature of the only person in the whole solar system that outranked him. After two years, looking at that signature still infuriated him. There was nothing he could do about it, and he was reminded it of it at the bottom of the form where Roderick had scratched down a message in the comments box:

Don't even think about it, Anders.
- Ben

    Anders took a deep breath and then handed the paper work back to Rogers. His face was flushing a bit but he was doing his best to maintain control. He looked like he wanted to toss Rogers into the brig with the prisoners. Rogers could tell he wanted to do something, but his hands were tied.

    "Do it," Rogers dared him, "Give Benny the excuse he needs to report you to Home World Alpha, and knock you down a few ranks. Then you can start taking orders from me."

    "I bet you'd get a kick out of that," Anders said to the old man.

    "There are not enough toilets in this building for you to clean that would satisfy my contempt for your sorry ass." Rogers spit back at the Commander, "But if you'll excuse me, I have a job to do... Sir."

    Anders face now looked like it was reaching a boiling point, but he took a deep breath and remained calm, "Carry on, Captain."

    Rogers didn't respond but instead gave another half assed salute and then walked away, to join O'Brien who was already unloading the prisoners.

    "He looked furious," the rookie said as she watched Anders and his people walk away, "Was that all about you and Roderick?"

    "No," Rogers said, looking back at them as well, "There's something else going on here that is bugging him more than I ever could, something big."

    As they were walking the prisoners to processing, he could tell there were people talking more than usual. This led him to believe something big had happened and he was going to have to find out what it was. As the clerks at processing were going through the paper work, Rogers turned him his charm and ability to small talk up to get the details.

    "What's going on around here?" he politely asked, "Things seem really tense around here and it's not even payday."

    The clerk took a deep breath. "We're getting word there was a blaster fight downtown earlier today."

    Rogers had a confused look on his face. "Here in the city?"

   "Yeah, right here." The clerk confirmed, "Your former partner was right in the thick of it. She was fired at by a few people but she managed to disarm and arrest one of them during the scuffle."

    "How did the blasters beat the grid?" O'Brien asked.

    "We're not sure," the clerk answered, "But the knowledge that the grid is failing to stop blasters has everyone nervous. The bad guys can fire back."

    "That would make anyone nervous," Rogers said, as he was old enough to remember the days before the grid was completed. It was like the old west, and like the techless colonies. People drawing on one another to settle disputes or shoot back at Patrol Officers who tried to break things up. It was a mess especially in such a highly populated area. The grid saved a lot of lives since it was built. If someone found a way around it, they could lose a lot of good people faster than they could replace them. It would be anarchy.

    Rogers used the com panel on his arm to send a message to his old rookie, Sergeant Star.

    ROGERS: Just heard about the blaster fight, are you all right?

    A few moments later, he got a reply from Amanda:

    STAR: I'm fine, just on my way to process an interesting piece of tech.

    Rogers took a deep breath and sighed. He always worried about her despite the fact that she was more capable of taking care of herself than anyone else, even Roderick. He typed out another message in to his com panel out of habit being the older one around:

    ROGERS: Top brass is freaking out. Watch your six.

    Rogers waited again for another few minutes before getting another reply from Starr:

    STAR: I figured they would be. I'll be alright, take care.

    Rogers looked at the message and could tell exactly what she was thinking. Whatever was going on with the grid, she was going to take it on like a ram on a hill top and anyone who got in her way was going to be knocking heads with her, even Anders if he wasn't careful.

    "Is everything okay," O'Brien asked as she could tell he was distracted.

    "It's all good," Rogers replied as he tapped the glass where the clerk was still working, "While I'm young, I'll be retired before you're done at this pace."

    "You should already be retired," the clerk shot back at him.

    "True," Rogers said, grinning, "But then again I would miss busting your balls every chance I got. Move things along here."

    The old man and his rookie were getting close to the end of their day when Commander Anders strolled over to their ship as they were cleaning it up, as per travel protocol. Rogers was actually helping the rookie with clean up because he was eager to get out of the building and join Starr for drinks and get the real story from her about all the chaos that was going on that day. From the look Anders had on his face, that day was about to get a lot longer.

    "Sir," Rogers said as he stopped cleaning, "You need something?"

    "We had a situation on New India," Anders replied.

    "There's always a situation on New India." O'Brien retorted, "What is so special about this one?"

    "We need to transfer three prisoners here to avoid unrest in the capital." Anders continued, "I need you two to get out there and retrieve them."

    Rogers took a few steps closer to the Commander, "You know we just got back from doing a transport, we've been out there for days."

    "You'll be cleared for overtime," Anders countered, "You'll both make double time for your efforts. I can't spare anyone else here today."

    Rogers usually loved to yank Anders' chain but after all the hoopla that Starr was experiencing today, he believed the commander. He wouldn't ask for something like this nor offer overtime unless he had no choice. If there really was going to be unrest in the capital of New India, the last thing Rogers wanted was riots and people hurt over someone political being in the slammer.

    "You good for some overtime, rookie?" he asked O'Brien.

    "Always," the young woman replied, as she stopped cleaning as well. No point continuing if you were just going to head back out and mess it up again.

    "Thank you," Anders said, actually looking relieved.

    "I suppose you want them back asap?" Rogers inquired, "No stops on the return trip?"

    "No stops either way unless it's an emergency," Anders confirmed, "Good luck out there."

    "Aye, Sir." Rogers said, giving a more respectful salute. As he walked back to the ship, O'Brien was already prepping it for launch. She was quick to catch onto things, which gave the old man hope she could be just as good as Amanda when she was ready, maybe even better. As if Amanda knew he was thinking of her, she sent him a message to him.

    STAR: Meet me at the pub, first round is on me.

    Rogers didn't like to cancel plans, but double time was double time. He knew that if anyone would understand, it would be Amanda. She loved doing overtime whenever they were offered it so he didn't expect any blow back when he sent her a response. 

    ROGERS: No can do, sport. We've been given a last minute assignment. Rain check?

    He paused for a moment, and seconds later Starr send her response:

    STAR: Not a problem. We'll catch up another time. Watch your six.

    Rogers turned off his communicator and the boarded the ship and watched while O'Brien got the ship ready to fly in what seemed like record time for her. He sat there and watched with an impressed look on his face but was unsure why she was in such a hurry.

    "I just got a message from Starr," Rogers said to her, "She'll take a rain check on those drinks and meet us when we get back."

    "That's nice," O'Brien said, not stopping while she chatted, "I just want to get away from this place and away from that pretentious prick."

    "Not a big fan of the Commander, I see." Rogers observed, "I don't blame you. He's a power hungry, political hack with the backbone of a slug. This would explain why you volunteered to do deep transport with me. You just don't want to be around him or the staff, do you?"

    "Not if I can help it." O'Brien confirmed, "I hate most of them."

    "There's hope for you yet," Rogers said with a smile, "Many people want to stay here and rise up in the ranks. The real adventure is out there. Keep up with your training and you'll be the best pilot we have in the fleet. You've got more guts than anyone I've seen ether, so stick with me and we'll go far. Yet when your time is done, and you're ready to leave the nest, you'll get no fight from me. Like Ben and Amanda, people with such raw talent for this job need to be set free to bug the shit out of people like Anders."

    "Now that's what I call a worthy goal," O'Brien said, closing the main hatch as she had finished loading the ship and getting it ready. "We're all clear to leave anytime you'd like."

    "That's good," Rogers said, checking his watch. "But if memory serves me right, we have an hour to get to Rosco's to pick up today's special."

    "It wasn't that long since lunch," O'Brien informed the old man, "Are you hungry again already?"

    "No, I'm not." Rogers replied, "I just figured it'd be nice to grab a few to go, unless you'd rather have Rocket Rations the whole trip."

    O'Brien nodded, "Good point, we have enough room to store a few meals in the fridge."

    "And we're also making overtime the moment we leave the station," Rogers reminded her, "So let's take our time getting out there and let him pay for tonight's dinner."

    Once the ship was off the platform and on its way to Rosco's, the two seemed to feel a bit better about the work ahead as they ordered a few meals for the road and stored them into the ship's fridge. While the machine was capable of making synthetic foods, known as Rocket Rations, and while they were enough to keep someone going the flavor was not going to win the hearts and minds of the patrol.

    When they finally reached orbit, due to increased activity in the launch lane being the reason Rogers filed in the report, the ship went into cruise control and started to make the trip for New India. Rogers allowed the rookie to take over controls, like he always did. While regulations said he should be present at all times whenever she was flying, Rogers was comfortable with her skills as he went the room behind the cock pit and laid down to rest. It had been a long day and the old man wanted to rest his eyes.

    "You've never been to New India yet, have you?" he called out.

    "No Captain," O'Brien replied, "This will be another first for me."

    "It might not be your cup of tea," Rogers said to her. "If you get off the ship, I would recommend leaving your helmet on with the visor down. You will also have to wear your laser vest."

    "In that heat?" O'Brien asked, aware of how warm it got on that planet. "Why do I have to bulk up so much?"

    "Tradition on that world," Rogers replied, "Women are not allowed to be seen at all, just their eyes through a slit in their face veil."

   "Rotten pigs," O'Brien spat out, unimpressed. "They're still practicing their archaic beliefs despite all the evidence. Religion is a dinosaur, and science was the comet that wiped them all out. That's the only thing I hated about nations moving to their own worlds, now we have planets with those barbaric customs instead of just a small nation."

    "You mean like your planet?" Rogers countered, "Last time I checked, you still download mass from the Irish world database every week."

    "At least I have the choice," O'Brien replied, "Over there they still execute people for disobeying the scripture. It's barbaric."

    "That may be," Rogers said, laying back in his cot, "But they still make a curry that is out of this universe."

    "I do like spicy food." O'Brien said, dropping the big hint.

    "We'll get that one to go as well," Rogers informed her, "I don't want to spend too much time down there either, not with the unrest and protests going on over there."

    "What's going on over there?" the rookie asked.

    "Same crap, different century." Rogers answered, "Separating the countries by giving each their own livable planet may have stopped all the wars on Earth Prime, but that didn't stop the nations from feuding with themselves. Even after all these years, they still feel the need to rebel, even against their own. The irony of it all is deafening."

    "Enjoy your nap," O'Brien said, concentrating on her board. "We're well on our way and I've got everything under control."

    "I have no doubt about that," Rogers replied, "You have an exceptional instructor, the best in the known universe."

    "Nice self praise," she countered, "Guess it's better than none."

    Rogers laughed and then rested into his cot and closed his eyes. While he was right about the great instruction he had given the young rookie, it still wasn't enough to prepare them for what was go to come next. Rogers wouldn't open his eyes again until twelve hours later, four hours after they crashed.

    When Captain Rogers finally opened his eyes, he had an aching sensation on the side of his head. He groaned a bit as he tried to get up, but sat back down as he started to get a bit dizzy from the effort. There was no doubt about it, he had sustained a pretty impressive concussion. As Rogers inspected his head, there was dried blood, which was likely the source of the concussion. The old man took a moment to focus and when his eyes were working well again, he notices that the ship was sitting in a diagonal slope and that told him two things. The first being that the landing gears were not used, which led to his second conclusion: they had crashed. He didn't remember what had happened, which was likely also caused by the head trauma, so he was going to have to rely on the memory of is rookie, if she didn't knock herself out either.

    "O'Brien!" he called out, but there was no response.

    Rogers huffed as he struggled to get to his feet. He started to get dizzy again, but this time he grabbed something to hold onto as he started to make his way to the back of the ship. He got about halfway when O'Brien noticed he was walking and ran over to grab Rogers before he fell over. He let out a groan as she grabbed onto him.

    "Ouch," he softly said, "That hurts just a bit."

    "You shouldn't be standing," O'Brien said, helping his sit down in one of the more comfortable chairs in the middle of the ship.

    "What the hell happened?" Rogers demanded.

    "You mean besides the fact that we crashed?" O'Brien countered with her own question.

    "Well, I gathered that much." Rogers said, holding his head as it ached. "Any idea where we are and when during our route we went down?"

   "I'm afraid I'm not sure, Captain." O'Brien answered, "I was flying the ship while you napped and suddenly I blacked out and woke up after the crash as well."

    "You fell asleep?" Rogers said, sounding rather concerned.

    "No," O'Brien denied, "I was not tired. I just blacked out. There's a difference."

    "Odd," Rogers said, "But I believe you. It wouldn't be the first time someone took out the cockpit to provoke a crash."

    "But why?" O'Brien asked, "Why would someone want to crash us?"

    "That's the big question," Rogers replied, as he tried to get up but crashed back down on his arse as he failed to do so. "We haven't got anything of value, not yet at least."

    "What do we do now?" O'Brien asked, hoping her Captain had all the answers.

    Rogers took one last try, and heaved himself up to his feet with a loud huff. He groaned for a bit as he started to walk back to the rear of the ship.

    "We need to find out where we are," Rogers answered, "Are scanners working?"

    "No," O'Brien answered, "I was trying to fix then when you woke up."

    "Well, one way to find out is to look outside," Rogers suggested.

    "Not yet," O'Brien said, pointing to the main windows. "There's a storm out there, we should wait till it dies down."

    "Good idea," Rogers said, "I'll fix the sensors while we wait. If the replicators are down, let's be thankful we picked up something on our way out. We might have to ration that."

    "I understand," O'Brien said, not relishing the idea, "But the replicators are functional for now. I already used them and made several jars of water in case they went down later."

    "Smart girl," Rogers said, "Make a few more and some food to go with them while I work on the sensors. There's no telling how long we'll be down here, or how long that storm will last."

    "I can't see it lasting more than a day or two," O'Brien said, not thinking much of it. 

    "Don't be so sure," Rogers countered, "I've seen some storms last over a week or two. We have no idea what kind of weather systems this planet has, so let's prepare for a long haul rather than a short one."

    "Yes, Sir," O'Brien said, "I understand."

    While Rogers spend a few hours working on the sensors, O'Brien used the replicators to create crates of patrol rations. She hoped to never used them, but it was the best to used as they took several months to expire. Rogers took a break and they created a meal since the machine was still working and sat down to eat. There was a lot of rumbling going on outside the ship, as the vessel shook from the vibrations.

    "That bolt was very close," O'Brien said, looking up from her meal.

    "Not that close," Rogers disagreed, "We'll be fine anyway. This ship is well grounded. It can take a full tactical EMP and keep on ticking."

    "At least the replicators are still up," O'Brien said, rather thankful for it. She didn't want to ration her purchased supper and was happy to have options.

    "We should be fine, but it was good to make a back up." Rogers agreed, "Once the storm lets up, we can take a look around."

    As if the weather had heard the statement, the winds and rain eased up and the sun started to shine through one of the windows. Rogers slowly got up and took a look out to see that the storm had indeed stopped.

    "Open the door slowly," Rogers told her, "Make sure it doesn't jam in case we need to close it up again real fast."

    "Why would we need to do that?" his co-pilot asked.

    "I don't know," Rogers answered, "In case a big creature tries to have us for supper?"

    The door had no trouble opening and didn't appear to be damaged, as they both stepped out and started to look around. They were in what appeared to be a small forest, with tall trees and bushes all about. The leaves of the trees were all kinds of colors that made the area look a rather beautiful. There were some well sized puddles but Rogers stopped O'Brien from walking into it.

    "Get a PH tester," Rogers ordered, "I want to know how acidic this storm was."

    While O'Brien was testing the puddles, Rogers moved a little further away from the ship looking for anything that might be a clue to where they were. He didn't recognize a damn thing. He looked up into the sky and noticed two suns up above.

    "This is the Echo quadrant, I'd bet my salary on it." Rogers called out.

    "Are you sure about that?" O'Brien asked.

    "About as sure as I can be," Rogers answered, "This is the only system with two sons. Now all we have to do is figure out which planet in there we are..."

    Rogers stopped talking and just stood there in silence for a moment, and he was so quiet that O'Brien couldn't help but notice.

    "Are you alright, Sir?" She called out.

    "We're not," Rogers replied, "Get back to the ship, right now."

    "What?" O'Brien said as she put away the test kit. "What's going on?"

    "Look over there," Rogers said, pointing to something. "What do you see?"

    "The storm," O'Brien said, "The one that just passed."

    "No," Roger said, pointing the other way, "According to the direction of the wind, that's the storm that just passed."

    "Two storms?" O'Brien said, laughing. "How likely is that?"

    "Not likely at all," Rogers agreed, "It's not two storms; it's the same storm!"

    "What?" O'Brien cried, "What do you mean?"

    "Get back to the ship!" Roger repeated, this time a little louder. "This is the eye of the storm! We're about to get walloped again!"

    When the second half of the storm barrelled into the area, the ship was rocked back and forth for a while, and the winds were super fast. Those winds also led to debris slamming against the hull of the ship, but barely dented the spacecraft as it was made of some very tough material and could handle hits way harder than what this storm could toss. Rogers was able to make himself a little more comfortable during the second half of the storm, unlike the first half which he was knocked unconscious for. He used the replicator to simulate some decent food, keeping the natural stuff in supply in case the shit lost power. Standard procedure was to use the tech as long as you could to make sure natural supplies were kept safe. Rogers also ordered simple things as to not push the machine or use up too much power placing orders.

    O'Brien was watching the storm through the window, watching nature on this planet destroy whatever wasn't nailed to the ground.

    "It's just a storm," Rogers said, nibbling on the soup he had the machine make up. "It still would have happened even if we didn't crash here first."

    "That's not comforting," O'Brien said, not even looking at her Captain. "We should use what we can to help anyone out there who might need it!"

    "We don't even know if this planet or moon is even inhabited!" Rogers corrected her, as her attitude was starting to get on his last nerve. "Unless someone comes up and knocks on our door we have no idea what's out there or might need help. So zip it, private!"

    O'Brien finally looked back and nodded, "Yes, Captain."

    "I never said we couldn't help anyone," Rogers corrected her, "But that doesn't mean we risk our lives looking for something or someone who might not even be out there. So unless something shows up on radar, or as I said, just knocks on our hull... we stay put until the storm passes or we get rescued, which ever comes first."

    "What makes you think someone will be looking for us so soon?" O'Brien asked.

    "Anders," Rogers said, sitting back down to eat his chow, "The moment he realizes were late, which I never am, he'll try to use this to get back at me for what happened earlier so he can bust me down a few pegs. He'll look, but for the wrong reasons."

    "You don't sound worried about that," O'Brien observed.

    "Once he files a missing report," Rogers continued, "That's when Benny will get involved. He's got the pull to double or triple our search party and take over it himself. That will piss Anders off but he'll have no choice and you know why."

    "So, you think Ben will come for us?" O'Brien asked.

    "I don't think," Rogers replied, "I know he will. Benny is a team player and he treats everyone in his command like they're family. He'd take a bullet
for us, and wake up the entire fleet if one of his own went missing. So sit tight and wait for the Commander to make his big entrance."

    "What if someone else comes instead?" O'Brien continued to inquire.

    "We be as friendly as we can," Rogers answered, "And keep waiting for Benny. As long as we stay alive, he'll eventually show up and save the day. That's just how the lad rolls."

    "What is he, a space cowboy?" O'Brien asked with a smirk on her face.

    "More like a space gunslinger," Rogers told her, "Never piss the man off because he can draw his pistol and shoot you out of your boots before you even get your hands on your grip."

    "No one is that quick," O'Brien said, showing her doubts.

    "I used to think like you," Rogers admitted, "Until I saw it with my own eyes. That man is the fastest draw in this galaxy, possibly the entire universe. For some reason he can feel when you're about to draw and just instinctively beats you to it. It's like he can read it all over your face. It's unnatural."

    "That explains why he isn't afraid of the techless colonies." O'Brien added.

    "Exactly," Rogers agreed, "To Benny a week in the techless colony is like a vacation to him. The commander actually has fun out there and it's why he volunteers to represent the Patrol out there every time. It's another reason why he's so popular: the men and women look up to him because he's not afraid to do some of the grunt work and lead by example."

    "That is a true leader," O'Brien concurred, "Someone who leads the charge rather than giving orders from behind the army. The fact that he also happens to be dashingly handsome doesn't hurt either."

    "I had a feeling he'd do well," Rogers admitted, "I had that feeling when he was training with me years ago. I knew he'd climb the ranks and be someone who made a difference."

    "You make a difference too," O'Brien said, "Don't sell yourself short."

    "I have made a difference, but that was a long time ago," Rogers said, putting down his empty bowl. "But today I still do by training the grunts that no one else wants and turning them into fine officers of the patrol. I take that lump of coal, and turn them into diamonds."

   "I'm a lump of coal?" O'Brien repeated, shrugging it off. "I've been called worse."

    "Considering where you're from, I believe you." Rogers said, "But I also take the trainees that others are too ignorant to give a chance, especially when I see so much potential."

    "You think I have potential to be great?" O'Brien again repeated. 

    "You do," Rogers said, "You have the potential to be just like Amanda or Benny. I see a lot of both of them in you, rookie. In other words I see you becoming another gutsy Patroller that will annoy the crap out of Anders but always gets the job done."

    "That's the nicest thing you ever said to me," O'Brien replied, feeling touched.

    She turned back to the window and continued to watch the storm, while Rogers chose to lay down on a pillow and just relax. He fell asleep moments later while his rookie keep watch to make sure there were no unexpected visitors. There were none for the remainder of the storm which lasted until the next morning.

    O'Brien volunteered to take the first watch as she was unable to sleep and knew she was going to be up for a while. The ship crashing appeared to spike her adrenaline and she was unable to relax for quite a while, so it make sense for her to take first watch. Rogers wasn't the kind of guy to take a gift horse in the mouth, so he went to sleep and tried his best to rest despite his head still throbbing a bit from their crash. While it only felt like a few seconds to him, Rogers was shaken awake by something and realized that more than a few hours had passed by. He groaned as he hopped out of his seat, and slowly made his way to the side door of their space vessel. Upon looking outside, O'Brien was outside doing what looked like some Tia-Chi exercises, moving slowly while also stretching her muscles as she did so.

    "What the hell are you doing, rookie?" Rogers called out as he also exited the ship.

    "Just a little exercise," O'Brien replied, not even bothering to look behind her.

    "Aren't you supposed to be keeping guard?" he asked her, still sounding a little grumpy.

    "I am," she softly whispered as he walked closer.

    "Is there someone watching?" Rogers whispered back.

    "There is," O'Brien answered, "But unless we landed on a planet of midgets, it's just a child."

    "I see," Rogers said, resisting the urge to turn around to look for it. "Is there just one?"

    "I'm not sure," O'Brien replied, "I've only managed to spot just the one. There could be more so we maybe should set some parameter devices to keep a look out for us."

    "I'll check the ship," Rogers said, and then he stopped whispering, "When you're finished doing your lame exercises, do a patrol and I'll fix up some chow."

    "Yes, Sir," O'Brien answered, aware that her Captain was saying that to hide what they were really discussing.

    While the spacecraft has a decent supply of survival rations onboard, Rogers preferred to leave them be as an emergency backup. He instead used the ship's replicators to whip up something that would be more than enough and a little extra for their watcher if he or she chose to get closer. O'Brien was walking back to the ship as he emerged with two hot plates.

    "Shouldn't we use the rations to conserve power?" she suggested.

    "I am aware of the regulations," Rogers replied, "But take it from me, you use the power while you have it to stretch out all options. Unless you'd like to start hunting for food sooner than later."

    "Fair enough," O'Brien conceded, as the man had a point. She took the bowl and started to nibble on the food the machines had prepared.

    "What of our new friend?" Rogers asked.

    "Still watching, but keeping their distance." O'Brien answered, "Do you think there is a village or a colony not far from here?"

    "It's possible," Rogers said, "But there's no telling what state they're in after the storm that just passed by us."

    "I never considered that," O'Brien said, "Should we look into it ourselves?"

    "Hold on," Rogers said, as he held up a hand. "We have some activity."

    There was some rustling in the bushes across from their position, and seconds later a young boy emerged from them and slowly walked up. He was wearing handmade clothing but it was enough to keep him covered up. A lot of it was still wet, likely from the harsh weather that had passed through their area earlier. The boy spoke a few words, but they were in a language neither of the could understand. After realizing the didn't understand the boy decided to use visual references and pointed to the bowl that Rogers was holding. Rogers replied by pointing at his own bowl and then to the young man. The boy understood what was being asked and nodded. his approval.

    "You're offering him your bowl?" O'Brien said, "What happened to stretching out rations?"

    "We'll be alright," Rogers said, sounding rather calm. "I made three bowls."

    "Of course you did," O'Brien said as she should have know better.

    Rogers reached his arm out and extended the bowl out towards the young man. He was hesitant at first but the reached out and took it from him. He immediately took the spoon and shoveled some of the food into his mouth, proving how famished he had been. He looked back up at Rogers with a smile on his and nodded again to give his thanks.

    "I hope you made a lot more," O'Brien suddenly said as she noticed something.

    Rogers looked up to see what O'Brien was referring to. Several more kids emerged from the bushes and had walked up to the two Patrolers.

    "I'll be right back," Rogers said as he started to back pedal towards the ship, "Share yours with someone and I'll get you a new bowl."

    "Yes, Sir." O'Brien said, as she had already handed her bowl over to a young girl that had walked up to her. She took a big bite and seemed happy with the food as well.

    Rogers was happy he chose not to use the rations, as he used the ship's replicator to make more food for the rest of the kids and then for himself and O'Brien. The ships power seemed stable, so he didn't feel bad using the ship to make more food for everyone, especially if being nice would make a good first impression with who might be their neighbors until the Patrol came looking for them.

    "Are you sure this is a good idea?" O'Brien asked as Rogers gave her a new helping.

    "I have no idea how long we'll be down here," Rogers confessed, "The last thing we need to be doing is feuding with the locals while waiting to be rescued. I'd prefer to remain in their good books for the time being."

    "I get your logic," O'Brien replied, "But I hope you are aware what happens when you feed a stray, right?"

    "We'll burn the bridge when we get to it," Rogers said, taking a bite of his own food. "After we finish supper, we have other work to do."

    "Such as?" O'Brien asked.

    "Your job will be to get the solar panels installed," Rogers answered, "That way we can use the sun to keep the replicators online for as long as possible."

    "I'll get right to it," O'Brien said, as she wasn't eager to dig into the emergency rations.

    "While you do that," Rogers added, "I'm going to access the ships translator logs and see if we can find out what language these kids speak. Things would be easier if we didn't have this language barrier between us."

    "Good plan," O'Brien approved, "I don't like not knowing what they're gabbing about."

    "That makes two of us," Rogers concurred, "I don't like it either. Let's hope the machine has something that will work for us."

    "For now they seem content," O'Brien observed, "As long as we keep them fed."

    "Understood," Rogers said, "That should work for now... but let's get to work."

    True to his word, Capt. Rogers didn't mess with the rations and conserved most of the ship's power so they could all be diverted to heating the ship and keeping the replicator running. O'Brien's successful installing of the solar panels also helped out a great deal, as the two suns on this particular planet were keeping the ship well powered throughout the day. Yet one thing the two of them noticed was that it was never getting dark. The twin suns in the sky made it near impossible to sleep since the night never came to them, like ever. The lack of darkness was starting to get on O'Brien's nerves.

    "The last time it was even remotely dark was during the storm," She noted, as she was tempted to kick the fire but good judgement got the better of her. 

    She was using the fire to boil some water to make her own coffee as she wasn't a fan of hot liquids that were prepared artificially. Rogers let it go as he also enjoyed a homemade cup of java, and knew that letting her have this was his way of picking his battles.

    "We'll be alright," Rogers noted, "We'll just cover up the windows with something solid and try to make the inside of the ship as dark as possible."

    "Hold on," O'Brien said, as she noticed something. "We've got movement again."

    It had been a few days since the kids has dropped by to share a meal with them, but one of them had finally reemerged from the forests. He slowly approached the fire and smiled at O'Brien. The child started to speak to them, but it was still in a language neither of them could recognize. Every time the child spoke, Rogers tried to get the ships computer to try to find out what language it was through a universal translator. It was of no use, as the machine was also unable to detect what dialect that was being spoken by the boy.

    "Sorry, kid," O'Brien said, "We don't have a clue what you're saying."

    "I think the feeling is mutual," Rogers noticed, "He has no clue what we're saying too."

    The young boy still ate with them that morning, enjoying the breakfast Rogers has prepared. He found the hot coffee rather strange but watched with awe as the two people he was with slowly sipped away their drinks until the hot liquid was gone. After they had eaten, the boy got back to his feet and motioned to them.

    "What does he want?" O'Brien asked.

    "It looks like he wants us to come with him," Rogers said, "Back to where he came from."

    "Are you sure that's wise?" O'Brien said, as she seemed fearful.

    "Well, it might be better if we go to them," Rogers suggested, "Or he'll bring his people to us, and the less people who know where our ship is the better.

    "Alright, I can dig that," O'Brien said, "But we'll need to pack up. There's no telling how long it might talk to walk to wherever this kid calls home."

    "Sounds like a plan," Rogers agreed, "We'll take a few days worth of food with us, and something to sleep in. Standard equipment for survival on new worlds. Hopefully we'll get a warm welcome." 

    "What about the ship?" O'Brien inquired.

    "I'll lock up," Rogers informed her, "Just remember where we parked."

    Once they were packed up, Rogers and O'Brien followed the kid as he led the way. Thankfully for the two of them, it only took a few hours to make the trip. The small he was leading them to was a lot closer, as the strolled towards what looks like a village that depended on agriculture more than anything else. There were vast fields of various crops, animals that were being left out to pasture and workers picking harvests from the field.

    As they walked closer to the village, the two officers could tell that every person they passed by was stopping to stare at their new visitors. Rogers had dealt with enough locals on other planets to know what this felt like, but this was different for various reasons.

    "Now I know how your friend must have felt," O'Brien said, "Being in an area completely void of technology."

    "It's a little different here," Rogers replied, "In the techless colony, the people are capable of using the tech but refuse to. Here, however, that tech has never been invented. I cannot begin to tell you how many laws we are breaking by making first contact with these people."

    "We didn't choose to be here," O'Brien reminded him.

    "That might be a good defence," Rogers said, as she was making sense, "But we need to be careful what we show off. Use a little tech as possible. Is that understood?"

    "Understood, Captain," O'Brien said, as she knew full well what he was referencing.

    As they were entering what would be the core of the village where most of the locals homes were located, it was evident that they were drawing everyone's attention. Most of the villagers stopped working and stared as they just strolled on by, following the young man as he continued to lead them to the center of town. As they were passing by a bunch of women to appeared to be hand washing what appeared to be linens, A tall male emerged from one of the larger homes and appeared to be shouting at the women. Clearly he was ordering them to get back to work, but one of the old ladies pointed to their two visitors. The man took notice as well, and started to walk up towards the two officers. He was shouting something in that language they couldn't understand, but he was also carrying a weapon. A long piece of leather that looked like it was half belt, and half whip. As he was shouting at the two of them, he appeared to be more angered by O'Brien's presence as he walked closer to her and even cracked his whip like tool to get her attention.

    "I don't need to understand him to know what vile pig he is!" O'Brien called out.

    O'Brien backed away from the aggressive alpha male, trying her best not to engage. Yet that only angered the man further as he appeared ready to attack her. Before the man got a chance to get any closer to her, a bright beam came out of nowhere and knocked the aggressive man clean off his feet. O'Brien turned to face her commanding officer.

    "What that really necessary?" O'Brien called out, after watching her Captain blast the man off his feet when his blaster. "What happened to using as little tech as possible?"

    "I had it set to stun," Rogers informed her, "I think having a woman kick his ass might have been a bigger hit to his ego, so I decided to step in."

    "So, you get to be the hero?" O'Brien asked.

    "I am your superior," Rogers corrected her, "I'm merely showing them our hierarchy."

    Without warning, even more men started to run over. They were all armed with spears, and more of those weird whips. The boy who was with them stepped forward and tried to speak with his elders. And while some of them were appearing to listen, a few of the others ran off. A few moments later they returned with another man, who looked different and clearly looked like he didn't belong amongst the locals.

    "Hello there," the man called out, waving at them with a grin on his face. "From the uniforms, I believe you are members of the Rocket Patrol?"

    "We are," Rogers called back, "I'm Captain Rogers."

    "What are you doing out here?" The man asked.

    "We're not entirely sure," Rogers answered, "But we could use your help."

    "I'll do what I can," the man replied, "Come, let's get you out of the sun."

    The locals backed away from the two visitors as they were welcomed by the man who had been living with them. Rogers likened him to an anthropologist, working mainly in an observatory role. It was a valid deduction to work from until they were told otherwise. As they followed their new guide, Rogers felt rather thankful he showed up when he did as the situation could have turned more deadly if the man hadn’t shown up to speak with them. Despite how grateful he was, Rogers still needed to get his bearings.

    “Who are you exactly?” Rogers inquired.

    “I’m a scientist,” the man replied, “Dr. Markson, I’m here to do a study of the local peoples on behalf of the interstellar science academy.”

    “How long have you been here?” O’Brien asked.

    “A few years,” Markson answered, “Long enough for these natives to give me the benefit of the doubt and show trust.”

    “Can you speak their language?” Rogers asked.

    “I couldn’t at first,” Markson replied, “But I managed to get the hang of it after living here for a year and change.”

    “That’s impressive,” O’Brien added while still watching their six. The natives hadn’t made any indication they would be hostile, but she insisted on keeping an eye out to protect her captain.

    “It wasn’t too difficult,” Markson said, shrugging it off.

    “Don’t be so modest,” Rogers said, as he kept following. “The work you do here is amazing and I’m sure the science academy appreciate your efforts.”

    “I hope so,” Markson conceded, “But just being here to help the natives is all the thanks I need. Now if you’ll follow me there’s someone important that I’d like you to meet.”

    “You mean like the chief?” O’Brien asked.

    “There is no chief,” Markson corrected her, “That was one thing that made this operation so easy to delegate. There was no leader, so it took very little time and resources to have one installed to control them.”

    “Control them?” Rogers repeated, “For what purpose?”

    “We use them for labour,” Markson answered, “And in return we use limited technology to prevent their extinction. This planet develops some rather sizeable storms this time of year.”

    “We noticed,” O’Brien replied, “There was a massive one recently.”

    “That was a small storm,” Markson informed her, “The bigger ones have the power to wipe whole villages off the face of the map.”

    “What tech to you use to assist them?” Rogers inquired.

    “Like radar,” Markson said, “Simple stuff that I would use to protect myself, so I can see a storm coming days, maybe even a week before it hits. That kind of warning can mean life and death for the locals.”

    “Where do you seek shelter?” Rogers asked.

    “Over there,” Markson said, as he gestured to something in the distance.

    They were walking close to the edge of town, where there were large tents and a small vehicle that was meant for transport. Yet that wasn’t what the scientists was gesturing towards as there was something massive in the distance. Rogers held his hand up to block the sun to get a better look, but the structure itself was too far away to identify. It was however quite tall, and he could understand why it was so far away. They had to keep it away from the village to make sure the tech inside it wouldn’t influence the locals.

    “What the hell is that place?” Rogers demanded.

    “It’s where the master lives,” Markson replied, “He not only funds my research, but he does his own work there where no one can bother him. He also uses the village to supply his operations.

    “Is that even legal?” O’Brien asked her boss, almost whispering.

    “I’m not sure,” Rogers honestly answered, “Markson, I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, but do you and your master have the necessary permits to be working with a techless tribe?”

    “The master said all the necessary paperwork was taken care of,” Markson said as he started to prepare his vehicle for departure. “You can ask him yourself; I’ll take you over there to meet him.”

    “Sounds good to me,” Rogers said, as he watched the man prepare what looked like an old jeep like vehicle. He clearly had it covered up to prevent it from being rained on during the storm.

    “Should we be walking in this blind?” O’Brien whispered again.

    “We don’t have a choice,” Rogers replied, “We’re stranded here, and this might be our only way to get off this planet. Let’s just be careful and try to get back to work before Anders blows a gasket. If they have the paperwork needed to run this operation, then there’s nothing to worry about.”

    “What if all of this is illegal?” O’Brien asked.

    “Then Anders will be the least of our worries,” Rogers said, as he knew what O’Brien was so worried about.

    “All set,” Markson called out, “Let’s get on the road before it rains again.”

    “Again?” Rogers repeated.

    “Storms on this planet are quite frequent,” Markson informed them, “It’s best if we get back to the Master’s compound. That way we can stay dry and get you two back off planet and doing your inter-galactic duties.”

    “Won’t get any argument from me,” Rogers said as he hopped onboard. “Let’s go O’Brien.”

    “Alright,” the young lady replied as she took one of the backseats.

    “No need to worry,” Markson said as he started up the jeep. “The man running this show has been quite outgoing and supporting. I couldn’t ask for a better backer for my research.”

    “Sounds good to me,” Rogers said, hoping for the best.

    The ride back to wherever this master went by rather quick as the trip was uneventful and boring. Rogers could sense that his partner was a little uneasy on the border of paranoia. Rogers knew that the young patroller has trust issues, and that’s something common on the planet where O’Brien originated from. Rogers didn’t have a problem with how she felt, but it was clear the captain that she needed to work on her poker face. Anyone could read her like a book right now, and that would in time cause problems. Yet as they reached the gates of the building where Markson’s “Master” resided, Rogers started to believe O’Brien’s gut was right. There were markings, kind of like a logo, that informed them a company was at work rather than just a single man that was backing science projects. There was an entire operation going on here, and Rogers had the feeling this company likely didn’t like uninvited men of authority dropping in on their business. When Markson pulled up to the door, there were two men standing at the main door on guard. They were in full body armor and carrying rifle sized blasters, which gave Rogers the impression that members of the Rocket Patrol might not get a very warm welcome here.

    “Markson,” one of the guards called out to the driver, “What the hell are you doing back so soon?”

    “Apologies,” Markson said, as he stepped out of his jeep, “I ran into these two at the village and felt it would be best to bring them here, so they wouldn’t make the natives any more nervous than they already were.”

    “Who are they?” The other guard asked.

    “Rocket Patrol,” Rogers said as he also stepped out of the jeep.

    “What are you doing out here?” the first guard asked.

    “We had an unfortunate accident,” Rogers explained, “And crashed on this planet after falling off course from our mission.”

    “So, you didn’t mean to come here?” the other guard inquired.

    “No, we did not,” Rogers confirmed, “We would just like to contact our people so we can get out of here and get back to our own work.”

    “I’m not sure that’s going to be possible,” a voice called out from above.

    Rogers looked up, and there was a slender man with black hair standing on the balcony about twenty feet above them.

    “Holy shit,” Rogers said, as he unbuckled the flap on his pistol.

    “Who is that?” O’Brien said, as she stepped out of the jeep to and already hand her hand on the hilt of her blaster.

    “Doctor Attacus Sommers,” Rogers said, as he started to back away from the guards, “It’s been a while.”

    “It has,” Sommers confirmed, “It nice to see you again, Sergeant Rogers.”

    “Actually, it’s Captain Rogers now,” Rogers corrected him.

    “Is it now?” Sommers asked, his face even amused. “Come inside and let’s catch up over lunch.”

    “I’d rather not,” Rogers said, as the request send a chill up his spine.

    “I’m not asking, Captain,” Sommers said, his voice carrying a dark tone.

    The moment Sommers made that last statement, a dozen more men in the same body armor as the two guards came up behind the jeep with their laser rifles drawn and pointed at the two officers. Rogers could tell they were outmanned, and definitely outgunned, so he slowly removed his pistol from its holster and dropped it to the ground. O’Brien did the same as she didn’t feel like getting into a firefight without anywhere to go for cover.

    “So, what’s for lunch?” Rogers asked.

    “And ruin the surprise,” Sommers said, grinning back at them, “I don’t think so, Captain. Come on in and find out for yourself.”

    “Are you sure about this?” O’Brien asked.

    “You don’t realize how dangerous the situation actually is,” Rogers whispered to her.

    “How dangerous are we talking?” she asked her captain.

    “If headquarters knew this man was still alive,” Rogers started to explain, “Then he would still be the most wanted man in the galaxy.”

    “Crap,” O’Brien said, as she was finally beginning to understand.

    “Precisely,” Rogers concurred.

    “Get inside,” one of the guards called out while the other was holding the door open.

    As the two patrollers walked inside, Markson watched as one of the guards walked over and picked up their blasters. He looked over at him and gestured to the door.

    “You too, Markson!” he called out.

    “Okay, okay,” Markson said, as he cowardly whisked into the building.