Bastion: Barracuda - Chapter Four - Chop Shop

-Bastion: Barracuda-

-Chapter Four-

-Chop Shop-

Barracuda made his way to the cockpit, Frank was standing in the hallway waiting for him. They both looked at each other, Barracuda was carrying his helmet in one hand and a pulse pistol in another. Frank pulled out his gun. He squeezed the handle tightly, he was well within range and he was sure he was quicker. But he didn’t know what they were doing with Doc, he frowned and threw the gun on the floor, the metal clanging as it bounced on the grating. The tension in the air subsided and Barracuda holstered his weapon.

“There’s no reason we can’t be civilised.” He said, walking into the cockpit. “Is it only you up here?” He asked, scanning his surroundings.

“Do you think I can afford anymore crew?” Frank said, Barracuda scowled, a panel behind him falling off its hinges. He moved towards the pilot’s seat. He grabbed the top of the chair and spun it around.

“Why don’t you take a seat?” He said, gesturing to the chair. Frank reluctantly sat in the chair, he knew he had to bide his time, his ship was not going to be overtaken by this worm, he was stronger and this was his ship.

“Take us closer to the moon.” Barracuda said, he sat in the other seat. He put his feet up and pulled out a twelve inch knife, Frank caught its glint. Barracuda smiled and started picking his teeth with it. Frank thought about what happened. They were waiting for them, they had a projectile pod set up and ready. Which means…

“Rum you son of a bitch.” Frank whispered. He ringed the pilot control stick, imagining a certain someone’s neck.

“Yes, quite a good little set up. He sends us ships, like your one, we melt them down and sell the scraps. And take anything we want.”

“And what does he get?” Frank said, the ship hard to control, the engines limp of power.

“He gets to stay alive.” Barracuda said, a menacing grin cutting into his face.

Wise grabbed a piece of broken wood and placed it in his mouth, he charged the blowtorch and aimed it towards the pipe. He had to cut off the bent piece so it could be pulled out. He put the flame to metal. At first there was no real discomfort but the bar was metal, and that meant it loved the heat, more than he did. The orange hue crept down the grey surface, edging closer to his skin, he had to be quick and he knew that all too well. 

He was panting heavily and the fumes coming from the engine were invading the room. It was a death trap but he was the only one that could fix it. The bar started to bend away as the concentrated flame burnt through, but it wasn’t going down without a fight. Wise let out a scream, only slightly muffled from the wood in his mouth. The conducted heat had reached his skin. It licked at the surface, tasting the flesh as it was cooked. His knees buckled and he fell to the ground. 

He kept a focused head and carried on cutting. The pipe singed with blue smoke as it fell to the ground. Wise didn’t waste any time and pulled the rest of it out of his stomach. He wretched it out and threw it to the side. He spat the wood out and bundled onto the table looking for the sealant. Blood was pouring out of his gut, the heat had stopped some of the bleeding but he needed it to stop. He lunged out and grabbed the closest thing, he fell to the ground, it was a canister of pipe sealant, a foam that was slightly toxic and not particularly nice on the skin.

He took a deep breath and sprayed it on the wound, filling the hole on the front and back. Pain was something he was getting used to today but this was on a whole new level. Blood escaped his head and he fell back, his eyes closed and the can rolled away from his hand underneath the table. The red and blue energy pulse of the engine, covered the room in colour, soon the radiation would follow and the colours would be the last thing he’d see.

Harvard, Liz, Doc and Gomez were tied up in the cargo hold. Barracuda’s four pirates were stood around them, looking through some of the cargo that they had on board.

“The Captain said that this was the only crew…” One of them said.

“You think any of these people know how to work an engine. Don’t be stupid and go down and check the engine room.” The other one said. He nodded and followed his orders. Harvard looked at Liz and Doc, they knew that Wise would still be down there regardless of his well-being.

“We have to do something.” Harvard whispered to the others.

“You heard what Frank said, they’ll kill us in a second.” Liz said.

“You think they won’t otherwise.” Harvard said, the others didn’t have anything to say to that. Gomez stood up and got the attention of the guards.

“They are planning something, I heard them!” He shouted.

“Shut up!” Doc said. The guards moved in weapons drawn.

“What?!” One of them said.

“Yeah I heard them conspiring, they are going to try something.”

“You really are a worm Gomez!” Liz said. Harvard stood up. His hands were tied together at the front.

“Sit down!”

“Come on, give me your best!” Harvard said, he gritted his teeth and puffed his chest out. He slowly crept backwards. The pirates looked at each other for a second, gaining confirmation. They were colour coded, Red, Blue, Green and Yellow. The Yellow one had gone to the engine room. They all looked up to the Red soldier, streaks of his colour painted on his armour. Barracuda had white on his armours, but that was more for ceremony, they knew their place. The Red one nodded and Blue pulled his pulse pistol up and aimed it at Harvard.

“No!” Liz shouted. Harvard kept his eyes on Blue as he pulled the trigger. The pulse of energy ripped through the air and hit him in the chest. It lifted him off the floor and his body hurled over the crates.

“What have you done?!” Doc shouted at them. Red slapped her to the ground.

“He didn’t need to die, that was your fault.” Red said. Liz and Doc’s head fell into their laps, everything was happening a little too quickly. And it didn’t look like letting up.

They carried on with their duties. Blue examined some more of the cargo, his attention was drawn to the one in the centre of the room. It had been the one Rum had placed on board. He grazed his fingers across the edges, there was a faint embossed symbol of a fish on the outside. He scrunched his eyebrows and opened the unlock panel. He was about to bite off more than he could chew.

The Bastion was in close orbit around the moon now, the chop shop hungry and waiting for sustenance. A green light flashed on Barracuda’s arm, he waved his arm above it and answered the call.

“There’s something I think you should see, Boss.” He said, Barracuda sighed.

“I don’t have time, tell me what it is.” He said, he activated the camera system in the cockpit and focused the view on Blue and the crate.

“I think it’s for you.” Blue said, grazing his fingers over the fish symbol again.

“What is it?” Barracuda said, pressing his knife into the edge of the console. Frank smiled.

“A present.” Frank said, after hearing the so called deal with Rum he realised what it must be. Rum knew that if the Bastion didn’t destroy the pirates that they would end up being boarded and taken over. That would mean that the cargo was something not very nice. Something that had to go undetectable to get through their scans. Barracuda didn’t like not being in the loop, he lunged for Frank and grabbed him by the throat. He pulled him up and pinned him against the cockpit wall. Frank kept smiling, an angry opponent is a sloppy opponent. His hand squeezed tighter around his neck, the veins bulged and hissed at him. The green light was still flashing on his wrist. Frank pressed the side of his head on the cockpit intercom.

“Wise now!” Frank said. Barracuda growled and tapped the button off. Frank was expecting the ship to jolt or burst into high gear, but nothing happened. The intercom in the engine room was broken and the message didn’t get through.

“Was that your plan, pathetic hidden messages, and an engine room jockey? My soldier is on the way down there now, he’s probably already there with his hands covered in blood.” Barracuda said, followed by a howling laugh. He pressed his arm brace and tried to warn his men about the cargo. But there was something he wasn’t expecting. If a man carries weapons and grenades everywhere he goes, what else must he carry? Harvard stood up from behind the crates, he raised his stowed away pulse pistol. His shirt had a burnt away hole on the chest, a black carbon plate was showing underneath.

“Was that your best?” He said and pulled the trigger.