War Of The Race's

CH 5: THE MISSION PT3

[...A threat far greater...]

FERNANDO HARBOR

"We all understand the mission?" Finpa asked as she, Melvin, Ckleck, and Azzrick stood in cover behind a building that leads to a harbor; the night sky and dimly lit yellow shade building lights disguised them as they went over their plans. "Yup Cap," Melvin said, "We buy enough time for Azzrick to hijack the destroyer's subnet, giving us a call home and the weapon's schematics, sounds easy enough."

"Got that Azzrick? gotta work quick," she told him. He gave a nod as they turned on their optical camo; moving from building to building that outlined the harbor; explosions in the distance ranged out the night sky; various colors of white blue, or pink bringing a scattering echo as they went off.
They moved past hundreds of parked cars; eventually having the harbored ships come into view; dozens of them sat docked; varying from aircraft carriers to light cruisers of all shapes and sizes.

They looked at the ships as Finpa pointed at one of them. "There," she said.
A large ship sat in port; big and gray with metal fold and antenna high; guns and cannons sat on its deck with a large UCA flag flying at its highest peak. They advanced toward it boarding; "All we have to do is find a computer now," Azzrick said.
They maneuvered the tight corridors until they eventually entered the bridge; computers lined the room in a half-circular shape; the interior a matte black and blends of grey; the outlooking windows overseeing the harbor.

"Get to work," I told Azzrick, moving up to the entrance and covering him; Melvin and Ckleck doing the same. "I'm glad This is going far smoother than I thought it would," Melvin said, "Why feelin' rusty?" Ckleck replied. Looking back on Azzrick I saw him typing away at the computers after inserting a cable into it. "How long?" "Should take only a few minutes; their security is seriously lacking. . ."

Melvin is right; this has been far easier than I thought it would be; on the way here there was barely any one home to greet us; even on holiday back home there were at least hundreds of personnel on patrol duty; not to mention other security measures; my gut turned the more I thought about it.

"Melvin, you spot anything unusual?" I asked "Nope, this place is a ghost ship."

Looking down the corridor that leads into the bridge; the smooth metallic gray walls hum; no doubt heavy pipping and wiring filled the inside of them; a tapping noise also catches my ears; it sounded separated by the rest of the sounds; going in and out in a rhythm like fashion instead of the low hum-footsteps.

"Someone's coming," I say. Melvin and Ckleck push themselves against the opposite wall whilst Azzrick fumbles his way into cover, the steps grow louder bouncing their way off the walls and descending into the room, a tall dark-skinned sli'mea turns the corner dressed in white and black with a mix of gold; multicolor decorative ribbons and medals covering his left breast.

He walks right past me, stopping where Azzrick was typing a few moments ago. "I could go for him," Ckleck said, "No, let's wait till he leaves; no need to get messy just yet," I tell her.
All eyes are on him; he reaches under a desk where a cabinet lies; pulling out some type of sli'mea liquor; taking his time pouring a glass, this is taking too long. "My option still available?"

I stay quiet hoping this sli'mea would hurry up and leave already.
"Care for a drink?" he suddenly says; I look around and then down the hall; there was no one else coming; observing his head and hands there was no phone or communicator on him; who was he speaking to? "Yes I mean you." He leans on the desk and turns his head around the room; his gaze meeting us but seemingly not sticking anywhere in particular.

Ckleck slowly raises her rifle toward the man's head; Melvin and I doing the same, "Come on out, I wanna talk, don't be shy." He turns his back on us refilling a glass, "Chateau cabernet sauvignon, dates all the way back to eight-teen southern France, one of the few remaining authentic's. . .Though," He turns facing back to a general direction. "I suppose Human liquor would be too weak for anthros uh; sorry, just trynna show a bit of southern hospitality, they say," he says chuckling.