S3, 06 Connections (RB) (June 2, 2016)

Corresponding text underneath each picture.

**22nd April 2094**

My hammer crashed down repeatedly into the sheet of metal that was to become my ‘project’s left arm armour. It was nearly bent into shape now, I just had to hammer out the final dents and then I could slide it over the top of the circuitry and electronics.

It took another few minutes but then I put my tools down and examined my creation.

Yup! Looked alright to me!

I reached over and grabbed the circuitry and then carefully spent the next couple of minutes sliding the new casing over the top.

Just as I finished, the cave door opened and Jarred came in. There was a storm outside and sand whipped all around and the wind threatened to extinguish the primitive lanterns that we used for ‘indoor’ lighting when the door was shut.

He closed the door behind him and pulled off his helmet with a groan.

Jarred: “That’s ferocious out there!” he commented, setting his helmet down on his bed.

Tank: “Yeah?” I asked absent-mindedly, as I began to attach the clawed ‘hand’, which I had already made, onto the brand new arm section.

Jarred must have noticed that I was distracted and came over to stand beside me.

Jarred: “Well, I must say, he’s lookin’ good!” he commented and I couldn’t help but smirk.

Tank: “Oh yea of little faith!” I joked and Jarred laughed.

Jarred: “Well, I’m sorry!” he began, still chuckling. “But when somebody says they’re goin’ to build a robot, in a cave, out of scrap metal, of course you’re going to be skeptical!”

Tank: “Yeah, but you know the difference?”

Jarred: “What?”

Tank: “I’m a genius.” I joked, as the claw became fully attached.

Jarred laughed and walked back over to his bed.

Jarred: “Oh, and by the way, *genius*, I found something you might like on the way back from the mission.”

Silently, I sighed. Every time Jarred mentioned one of his little ‘missions’, as he liked to call them, my heart dropped a little. I knew that he was a criminal, and that wasn’t going away any time soon, but I just couldn’t help feeling that ‘pang’, every time he mentioned them.

Jarred: “Here.” He nudged me from behind and I turned to find him holding a brown leather satchel. “Might come in useful when you’re out scavenging parts for… whatever you’re goin’ to name him.” He explained and nodded to the workbench. I took the bag from him and a huge grin spread across my face.

Jarred: “Happy birthday, pal.”

I’d forgotten! When you spend your life hidden away in a cave, dates, months, don’t matter. They all blur into one. Especially in a cave on a planet that doesn’t experience night! So the fact I’d forgotten it was my birthday wasn’t a big thing. But the fact that Jarred *hadn’t* was.

Tank: “Thank you!” I breathed, my emotions threatening to get the better of me as I examined the bag.

Jarred: “Hey, no worries, pal. You’re welcome.” He smiled and I couldn’t help it; I flung my arms around him and gave him a hug. Jarred laughed and patted me on the back. “You’re welcome.”

**11th May 2096: Present Day**

There was nothing! *NOTHING*!

Tracks grunted at me as I swept my arms across the desk and sent everything flying.
Tank: “No, I will not calm down!” I shouted at him.

But, never-the-less, I took a deep breath and just looked around.

I was stood in the office of an abandoned warehouse on Etrion, searching for any leads on Zeth Stripe, the man who had murdered my parents. After Judas had informed me that Stripe had used this warehouse as a hideaway at some point a few years ago, we’d had to spend a little over a week discovering which warehouse was in question, but then I had pretty much came straight here and begun searching for clues, however, after spending virtually the entire day searching the warehouse from top to bottom, I couldn’t find any leads at all! Nothing! Not a single hint that this ghost of a man had been here!

I wondered if maybe I was in the wrong warehouse, but these were definitely the co-ordinates Judas had given to me. I also wondered if Bowen, the man who had given these co-ordinates to Judas could have been lying, but I had no way of telling either way.

I just *had* to believe that I was in the right place; that I was on the right trail.

I looked all around the office with my hands on my hips and then took off my hat and ran a hand through my hair, pushing it back from my forehead as I thought.

Tracks whirred uncertainly.

Tank: “What?” I sighed, regaining my composure. Tracks pointed to an article pinned to a staff noticeboard on the wall nearby. I walked over to him and skim-read the old piece of paper.

Tank: “So, what?” I asked Tracks, wondering why he’d found it so interesting. There was nothing useful about it. Just some information about a company buy-out several decades ago. Tracks whirred again and pointed to the accompanying picture. Or more specifically, at one man in the picture.

I glanced at it and shrugged but then something tugged at my memory.

Tank: “Wait a minute…” I muttered and looked at him more closely. “I know him…”

Then my memory kicked in and I reached into my leather jacket’s inside pocket and pulled out the old, ripped photograph I’d recovered from my family’s old apartment.

And there he was! The same man, looking up at me out of the same photograph as my parents.

Eagerly, I re-read the pinned-up article again, searching for a name.

Tank: “Yes!” I exclaimed as I found it. “Adrian West.” I read aloud.

I pulled my datapad out of my satchel and began looking Mr. West up on the internet. It didn’t take much searching before I found several different pages about him.

It seemed that he had been a prominent businessman back on Earth before the Shift, and since then had expanded his company out into our new system. The most recent article I could find said that he had retired to Qoter at the end of last year.

How convenient! I pulled out my comlink and began putting in Mr. Grey’s number, but then cancelled it. I didn’t want to ask him or the Brain for any more information, because that would mean asking for a favour. Instead, I put in Judas’ number and called it. I figured we were almost even now, but I was sure he wouldn’t mind finding out a single address for me.

A few seconds later, his blue figure appeared in my palm.

Judas: “Hey, Tank! What’s up?”

Tank: “Hey! I was wondering if you could find out an address for me?”

Later that day and I was piloting the Viper through the Qoter cityscape, heading towards Mr. West’s home address, as kindly discovered for me by the Governor. I knew from reports and photos that Antillio, the region of Qoter that I was now flying over, was one of the most beautiful on the planet. Home to the rich and famous, this city was populated only by the wealthiest of the wealthy, so it made sense that Mr. West should have retired here. This wasn’t the lead on Zeth I had hoped to find when I’d gone to Etrion, but it was certainly better than nothing.

I put the Viper down in the Antillio spaceport – Judas had given me a special code, allowing me free parking and fuel at all of Qoter’s spaceports! And from there, Tracks and I took a speeder to Mr. West’s house.

Well, I say house, it was more of a villa!

After pulling up outside, Tracks and I walked up the cobbled driveway to the front door.

Tank: “Well, here goes.” I muttered as I rang the bell.

A minute or so passed and I was just considering ringing for a second time when the door opened and a lady in approximately her 60’s opened it.

Lady: “Can I help you?” she asked in a firm tone.

Tank: “Um, hello ma’am. I’m here to see Mr. West?”

Mrs. West: “Is my husband expecting you?” she checked.

Tank: “Uh, no. No he isn’t. But I… I knew the Foster family and would like to speak with him about them.”

Mrs. West: “The Fosters? As in, Lana and Jeremy?”

Tank: “Yes, ma’am.”

Mrs. West: “Well, you see a little young for that, but never-the-less, I’m sure my husband will want to hear whatever it is that you’ve come to speak about.” She told me, stepping back and allowing us to enter their home.
Tank: “Thank you.” I smiled at her as I stepped into a grand entrance hall. Tracks grunted his thanks as he joined me and Mrs. West shut the door behind her.

Mrs. West: “My husband is in the drawing room. If you’ll follow me.” She told us as I stood, looking around at the rather splendid interior.

We followed the aging lady through a couple of other rooms before we entered what must have been the drawing room and there, sitting at a writing desk, was Mr. Adrian West himself.

Tank: “Thank you.” I smiled at his wife as she stepped aside to let us past.

Mrs. West: “Adrian.” She addressed him. “There is a young fellow here to see you. He said he knew the Fosters.” She explained and in his desk chair, Adrian looked over his shoulder.

Adrian: “The Fosters?”

Mrs. West: “That’s what I said. But, I’ll let you decide.” And with that she left the room, leaving Tracks and I with her husband.

Adrian turned his chair around to face us.

Adrian: “How on Earth do you know the Fosters, boy? You look far too young.”

Tank: “I… lied, sir. I apologise. I’m a reporter.” I lied. “But I do know a lot *about* the Foster family. I’ve done a lot of research and am investigating their deaths.” That part wasn’t so much of a lie. I had indeed done lots of research and was also looking into their deaths. But I didn’t know if I could trust this man or not, so revealing my real identity to him didn’t seem like a brilliant idea.

Tank: “You were good friends with them, weren’t you?” I probed. Mr. West “Mmm”’ed in reply and looked slightly miffed at the fact he’d been lied to. He sighed, seemingly like he was trying to find a way out of this, but couldn’t.

Mr. West: “Take a seat.” He indicated to the sofa, just to my side and I did so and Tracks then sat beside me. “So, what do you want to know? Why the hell are you investigating their deaths now? After all these years?”

Tank: “Some… new evidence has come to light.” I lied again.

Mr. West: “Oh?”

Tank: “I’m afraid I don’t know what this new ‘evidence’ is though. My boss just told me to look into the Fosters and so… here I am.” I made up as I went along.

Mr. West: “Mmm, shame. Well what do you want to know?”

I needed to ask about Zeth, but I couldn’t help having hundreds of questions about my parents come to mind. Speaking to somebody who knew them offered me a rare insight into their lives.

Tank: “What were they like? Lana and Jeremy?”

Mr. West: “They were… they were great people. And even greater friends. Jeremy was a good businessman, like myself. We always saw eye-to-eye. Lana was just… well, was just a delight. Always smiling, always welcoming and accommodating.”
I nodded and couldn’t help but smile at hearing my parents being praised.

Tank: “How did you feel when they were murdered?”

Mr. West: “Shocked.” He began. “Shocked and horrified. It came as such a complete surprise. Nobody expected it, least of all the ‘regulars’.”

As he said that, I remembered back to when I’d spoken to Uncle Barnaby last year, and the group he’d referred to as the ‘regulars’ – the group of friends whom my parents spent most of their time around.

Tank: “Do you believe that it was their son who committed the murders?” I asked, more out of curiosity than anything.

Mr. West: “Mmm… I don’t know.” He replied, scratching his beard. “One the one hand, he was such a charming young boy and his parents loved him deeply.” At that, I felt my heart twang. “But on the other, you never can tell with children. All of the evidence seemed pretty conclusive. He was the only other person in the apartment with them at the time and was found at the scene with the murder weapon in his hands. You can’t really get any more damning than that.” He reasoned.

Tank: “No, I suppose not.” I replied, quietly.

Tank: “Um, moving on.” I continued, shaking myself out of bad memories. “Have you ever heard of a man named Zeth Stripe?”

This was it. This was why I was here. If Mr. West knew Zeth or at least knew about him, I could track him down and finally get justice for my parents!

Mr. West: “Who?”

My heart dropped.

Tank: “Zeth Stripe.” I repeated.

Adrian shook his head slowly.

Mr. West: “No, I don’t think I’ve ever heard that name before, sorry.”
I couldn’t believe it. Every step I took seemed to come to a dead end! Now what was I supposed to do?!

Tank: “Well, never mind then.” I smiled sadly. “Thank you for your time, Mr. West.” I said, standing up, getting ready to leave.

Mr. West: “That was it? You didn’t even write anything down!”

Tank: “He has a built in recorder.” I lied, gesturing to Tracks who looked at me, confused, but then turned to the elder man and nodded. Adrian nodded slowly.

Mr. West: “Well, I hope this new evidence, whatever it is, clears the situation up.” He said, standing and shook my hand.
Tank: “As do I.”

I turned to leave but then had an idea. I pulled out the old, ripped photograph.

Tank: “Oh, one last thing. I don’t suppose you know who any of the people in this photograph are do you?” I asked, handing it to him.

After just milliseconds of looking at it he exclaimed,

Mr. West: “Oh yes! Of course! I had forgotten about this photo! Mind you, we did take rather a lot of group photos back then!” he laughed.

Tank: “Could you tell me their names?” I asked, hopefully, pulling out my datapad, ready to jot their names down.

Mr. West: “Hmm… let me see. Well, on the left there is Franklin Morales. I never did like him. Beside him is Barnaby Walsh. The lady at the back is Rosmarie Addison. Hmm, I must say, I don’t remember the name of the gentleman in the middle. And then there is myself at the back and, of course, Lana and Jeremy.”

I could feel the grin on my face as I finished writing down their names. Barnaby had given me a few of their first names last year, but I had forgotten to write them down and even if I had, it had only now occurred to me that I might be able to chase them up as leads on Zeth. If Zeth had murdered my parents, then surely he must have had a motive. Surely one of them must know about him!

Tank: “Thank you!” I exclaimed as I took the picture back and tucked it safely into my jacket. “I don’t suppose you can remember who’s in the missing part of this picture, do you?”

Mr. West: “Hmm… no, I’m afraid not.” He replied.

Tank: “Okay. No worries. Um, you said you didn’t like one of them, Franklin, was it?” I asked, probing, trying to find a possible lead to follow.

Mr. West: “Mmm, yes. He was always so smooth and such a kiss-up. He was very much a ladies man.” He explained. “I never did trust him. If you’re looking for new suspects start there.” He told me, point blankly.

Tank: “Thank you!” I repeated as Tracks stood up.

Mr. West: “Now, is there anything else?”

Tank: “No, that’s all.” I smiled. “Thank you for your time.”

Mr. West: “Not at all.” He smiled in return and Tracks and I turned to leave. “Oh, I never did catch your name?”

After so long talking about my family, my real name very nearly slipped off of my lips, but luckily, I held it back.

Tank: “Chain, sir. Chain Rockwell.”

He pulled a face as if he’d been expecting somebody else, but nodded curtly and with that, Tracks and I left.

**The Next Day...**

Riley had called me earlier this morning, saying that Judas had given her the afternoon off and so she was asking me to meet her for lunch at our usual little café. I had happily agreed and so now, here I was, walking through the door. Still in good spirits from my discoveries yesterday, a lunch date with Riley could only add to my good mood.

Riley was already seated at our usual table as I arrived and she grinned and waved as I approached.

Tank: “Hey!” I greeted.

Riley: “Hey, you.” She smiled in return. “How’s things?”

Tank: “Really great!” I replied honestly.

Riley: “Oh! Well that’s good!”

Tank: “Yeah! I’ve had a possible breakthrough in a case that I’ve been working on for… well, for a long time now.”

In my excitement, I had very almost forgotten that she didn’t know I was really Frank Foster. Once again, I *sooooo* wanted to tell her and also to tell her how much I loved her and always had done! But I couldn’t. There was just too much danger involved. So instead, I returned to silence and wishful thinking.

Tank: “How are things with you?”

Riley: “Yeah, good thanks!”

Tank: “You got the afternoon off then?”

Riley: “Yeah, I’m not sure why though. I was in the middle of piecing together reports about random robot attacks that have been happening all over the planet, but oh well!”

Tank: “Robot attacks?” I queried.

Riley: “Yeah. There’s been several reports of robots randomly attacking people. Seemingly without motives or even aims. Two of the reports claimed that the droids looked like they were made from scraps, which is odd.”

Tank: “Yeah, strange.” I frowned, wondering what could be going wrong. Short circuiting, maybe?

Riley: “Oh well, an afternoon off is a rare thing, so, not complaining!” she laughed and I found it to be contagious.

Tank: “So, got any plans?” I asked as the waiter came over and then took my order.

Riley: “Well,” she hesitated slightly. “I was kind of hoping you’d be free to spend it with me?” she said.

I wasn’t sure why I seemed so surprised. We’d hung out quite a lot recently, but there was something about the way she said it this time that seemed different.

Tank: “Um, yeah. Sure!” I smiled.

Riley: “Great!” she grinned and took a sip from her drink. “Have you ever been to the Knightborn Botanical Gardens?” she asked.

Tank: “I can’t say I have. Why?”

Riley: “Oh! We *have* to go! They’re just so lovely!” she exclaimed.

Tank: “Okay, sounds good to me!” I nodded in agreement, loving her enthusiasm.

Riley: “There’s a beautiful bridge where…”

Suddenly the power went out.

Tank: “Whoa…” I muttered and Riley grabbed hold of my arm in shock.

Riley: “What was that?”

All over the café, people were looking around in confusion.

Tank: “Power’s out.” I muttered, looking out of the windows. It was the middle of the day, but down here at ground level, with the skyscrapers towering over us, casting very long shadows, it was rather gloomy. As I looked around at the street outside and the buildings nearby, it became clear that everything had ground to a halt.

Tank: “Everywhere’s gone out.” I commented.

Riley: “Like the other day?” she asked, referring to the planet-wide blackout that had occurred when we’d been in Judas’s office.

Tank: “Yeah. Seems like it.”

But no sooner had I said that, power was restored and the lights came back on.

Tank: “There we go! Nothing to worry about.” I smiled, comforting Riley, who still had hold of my arm and was looking rather worried.

Tank: “Hey, it’s okay.” I smiled reassuringly.

Riley: “I know… I just…. The one thing I’m afraid of; the dark.” She explained in a small voice, still holding my arm. I couldn’t help but laugh.

Tank: “Aww! Bless you.” I smiled down at her and put my arm around her shoulders.

Riley: “Protect me?” She asked jokingly with a cute smile, her composure returning. I laughed again, looking down at her beside me.

Tank: “Of course. Always.”

And then… it just happened. As I sat there looking down into her eyes and she sat there looking up at me, she reached up and gently pulled my face into hers and our lips met.

My entire being tingled, my body felt like it was alive - *really* alive! My lips stayed pressed against hers for a good several seconds and then slowly, she pulled away.

My eyes stayed shut for a few moments more, my very core shaking, not really knowing how to feel, and then I opened them and found Riley grinning at me, her hand still on the side of my face. She giggled and I did too.

We sat in silence for a good few seconds before she spoke again.

Riley: “Botanical Gardens?” she smirked and I simply nodded, grinning, unable to speak at the moment.

MY FIRST KISS!!!!!!!

**Elsewhere…**

Gunfire rang out as Beta Squad stormed into the drug den that intel informed them two escaped prisoners were hiding out in.

Darkblade: “Download, are they here?” he asked aloud, visually scanning the room with the camera built into his helmet.

Download: “Give me a sec.” came the reply in his earpiece. None of the front-line members of the Squad had ever met their tech support guy, ‘Download’, but he was always on hand with vital information and help with technical solutions. They all wore earpieces, meaning that they could speak to him at all times. He could hack pretty much anything, which made breaking and entering a heck of a lot easier, and all without being there. Heck, he might not even have been on the same planet; they didn’t know.

A Valard, who was clearly off his head on some sort of substance came charging at them, waving his hands all over the place. Wolfhide raised his pistol and brought the alien down with a single shot to the chest.

Download: “Negative, squad leader. Targets are not in the building.” Came Download’s voice.

Darkblade: “Dammit!” he cursed and fired off a laser into a druggy who was somehow managing to sleep through the siege.

Ranger: “Now what?”

Darkblade thought for a few moments, looking around. The attacks had stopped coming now. Those who remained had either hidden or were too high to care what was going on.

Darkblade: “Nothing.”

Wolfhide: “What do you mean, “Nothing”?! We just gonna sit on our asses?”

Darkblade: “If I say so, **yes**!” he bellowed in return.

Darkblade: “We’ll set up camp here for the night. Move out in the morning.”

Hammerstrike grumbled and wandered off as Darkblade heaved a dead body off of the dust-covered, moth-chewed sofa and then slumped down onto it.

Wolfhide: “You know, your leadership skills are sourly lacking!” he growled.

Darkblade: “Oh yeah?! And I suppose you think you could do a better job, huh?”

Wolfhide: “As a matter of fact, I *KNOW<* I could!”

Darkblade: “Oh yeah? Well, you can show them off when I’m not around no more!”

Wolfhide frowned.

Wolfhide: “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

Darkblade didn’t reply.

Wolfhide: “You planning on quittin’ on us?” he demanded to know.

Darkblade stayed silent for several seconds before replying calmly;

Darkblade: “Go with Jaws and get some food. That’s an order.”

Wolfhide’s lip curled, but without another word he turned and stalked away, leaving the squad leader to stare absent-mindedly out of the window.

**BONUS PICTURES**

The set for the office in the abandoned warehouse.

The front of the house.

An alternative picture for Tank and Tracks at the front door.

The set for the study.

As my series is going to be jumping around though time, I will include a date on each episode and add it to the timeline at the end of each episode so that you can follow it.

TIMELINE