Unicorn Riders - Pinch (English)

Chapter 17: On her own account

She had not much time. But the more she had to do.

Two things were tumbling around in her head that had gained Vera's dislike since her departure from the medical centre. Igor might have been right with his speech about her not being prepared for what was about to come. If she really was to late to save the children... She didn't want to think about it any further, and she didn't have to. For Igor might know the dark sides of the galaxy where everybody was gearing up to kill each other, and he might have seen first-hand what the Comm wars and the following conflicts had turned the galaxy into. But he didn't know Johnson - unlike Vera. She was confident that Johnson would keep his end of the bargain that he had closed with his mysterious business partner, this Foster. He wouldn't harm the children unless he absolutely had to. And he had a tight commanding grip on his people - they wouldn't go any further than they already had. As long as their mission wasn't over and they had not found what they were looking for, Vera would have enough time left to free the children and get them to safety.

She couldn't wait for Strike Squad to do it. She had to take care of it herself. She had to go out there, as soon as possible. And she already knew how to do it.

But she had to prepare for it first.

Her first stop was her locker. Her thumbprint opened the lock instantly, and she found everything she was hoping to find in it. Kate's words had really impressed her, giving her a new sensation about what Igor and the other mercenaries at the academy truly saw in her. Little by little she understood that her thirteenth birthday was not just about the way other people looked at her and treated her. It was foremost about the image she had about herself. That she learned to accept who she truly was. Now she understood it. Now the time had come.

She took out the box with the combat suit that was gifted to her at her birthday and looked for a quiet spot to get dressed. She was again wearing her boots that she had worn at the beginning of her mission - they hadn't been among the clothes Chris had given to her mother. But alas her survival knife had remained in the pockets of her jacket. Oh well, there was certainly a way to replace it.

She pulled the top over her t-shirt and felt how it adjusted to her body while getting stiffer in her torso area. Carefully she felt over the surface of the top and noticed that it had become much harder and more durable. Body armor, she thought delighted. This was getting better by the minute. The trousers showed some similar effect - the surface around her upper and lower legs hardened up and stabilized even when she firmly knocked on it. The area around her knee joints still remained flexible to keep her agility. Naturally her clothes wouldn't be much help against a direct hit from a laser blast. Vera knew that much. But at least she had some protection against the effects of blunt physical violence.

She wasn't going to put on the jacket yet, though. There was something Vera wanted to do first. She seeked out a mirror and started braiding her long hair. She did this out of two reasons. On one hand it wouldn't be enough to rescue the children - she would also have to face Johnson and his goons. A fight was bound to happen. And no one that Vera knew of would go into battle with loose hair, unless he was a Metalian. Thinking about the upcoming battle though made her nervous - but braiding her hair like this had a soothing, almost meditative effect on her. With every turn, every inch of her hair she felt more and more prepared for it. Soon the braid was finished, and she secured it with a tight ribbon. Then she put on the jacket and examined her reflection.

It was like another person was looking back at her. The combat suit, the jacket, the tightest and tidiest braid she had ever done, and the all determined face... that was not Vera returning from no man's land in the north with a concussion. That wasn't even Vera tricking the criminals that she was a twelve year old harmless runaway.  She wasn't even resembling that eleven year old girl anymore listening to the buzz of a launching starship she had longed to get on board in a childish mood. No, the person looking back at her... was "Pinch". A mercenary whose young age didn't say anything about her capability of being dangerous. She had grasped the full meaning of this name, and for the first time in her life she carried it with pride. Yes, she was "Pinch", indeed. And anyone trying to thwart her would be terribly sorry.