S1, 12 Dark of the Moon (LB) (October 30, 2014)

Corresponding text underneath each picture.

**31st December 2094: Present Day**

After losing Fredricks to Wolfhide this morning, Tracks and I had taken the Viper down into the city and had spent the rest of the day hiding out in an abandoned shop.

I was angry. Angry at Wolfhide and angry because I knew Mr. Grey would be angry with me.

I’d found an old toolkit and while we waited to be contacted by Grey, as the mission briefing had stated I would, I set to work on Tracks’ vocal processor.

Tank: “Right, let’s see if we can figure out why you’re not speaking.” I muttered, more to myself than to him, but still he replied with a few whirs and clicks.

I opened up the panelling around his neck and then carefully detached the processing unit that should produce his speech.

I spent the next couple of hours tinkering with his voice box, trying to figure out why he was no longer able to produce fluent speech as he had been before, but it was all to no avail. For the life of me I couldn’t figure out what was wrong! Nothing was missing, nothing appeared damaged, I just couldn’t figure it out! Tracks himself even sat up from where he was laying on the cold shop floor at one point and examined the core processing box but couldn’t find anything wrong with it.

My studies were interrupted then by the bleeping of my holo-communicator, which I pulled out and activated.

Mr. Grey: “Good afternoon, Tank.”

Tank: “Afternoon.” I replied, worried about what was to come.

Mr. Grey: “I’m going to get straight to it because I don’t have much time at the minute. You met with Wolfhide, yes?”

Tank: “Yeah, but…” I was about to explain what had happened but Grey interrupted.

Mr. Grey: “Good. Then I have your next assignment but I have to give it to you in person. Can you get to the moon?”

That took me aback a little.

Tank: “The moon? As in Earth’s moon?”

Mr. Grey: “Yes.”

Tank: “Um, I suppose so, yeah. Although isn’t that a bit dangerous, getting so close to the Imperial homeworld?”

Mr. Grey: “Tank, you blew up a weapons factory on Earth not that long ago. I think the moon is going to be fine.”

Tank: “Fair point.” I conceded.

Mr. Grey: “Good. It’s settled then. Meet me on the moon tomorrow at 3:00pm, Earth Time. I’ll send you the exact co-ordinates when you’re on route.”

Tank: “As you wish.”

Mr. Grey terminated the link and his hologram fizzled out of existence.

**Elsewhere...**

\*The holograms are crackly and bad quality – the transmission has been intercepted…\*

Figure One: “…the moon tomorrow at 3:00pm, Earth Time. I’ll send you the exact co-ordinates when you’re on route.”

Figure Two: “As you wish.”

\*Both holograms fizzle out.\*

Col. Ramson: “Bingo!”

**1st January 2095: Present Day**

I’d spent the rest of yesterday working on Tracks. Hammering out any dents that were in his armour, tightening loose bolts etc. I’d worked for a while longer on his voice box but still, nothing came of it. In the evening, we’d set off in the viper, because we knew it was going to take a while to get to the moon.

Tracks had plugged himself into the ship to charge up and had flown overnight, while I slept in the back, but now, mid-morning, I was in the pilot’s seat and Tracks was resting behind me. There wasn’t much to do in the way of flying. Mr. Grey had sent the co-ordinates, as promised, along with a message saying not to land at the meeting site. Land a little way off and then make your way on foot to the meeting point.

So the ship was on autopilot which meant I had plenty of time to try and think of what I was going to tell Grey when we got there. About what had happened to Fredricks. He obviously trusted Wolfhide, hence his command for me to hand him over to him. That meant that he was unlikely to believe what really happened. So as we flew and gradually got closer to our destination, my brain was working overtime to try and think of what I could tell him.

A short time later and we had arrived at the moon and landed on the ‘dark side’ as it was called on Earth.

Despite having been being partially colonised for a good 50 years now, the atmosphere was still unbreathable and so I pulled on an oxygen helmet which I’d picked up on Etrion before we left and then together, Tracks and I ventured outside.

When the moon was first colonised, scientists fitted gravity-enhancers all over the planet’s surface, so that the gravity was the same as it was on Earth, meaning Tracks and I had no issues as we walked the short distance to the meeting point.

As we got nearer, we could see a lone figure waiting there for us and when we got closer still could identify it as Mr. Grey, looking as smart as ever in a green suit, even with his oxygen mask on.

Mr. Grey: “I cannot be here long. The Brain is very busy at the moment and I have a lot to do.”

No hellos then. Straight to business.

Mr. Grey: “What happened with Wolfhide?”

Wait… did he know something had gone wrong? He sounded annoyed. Had he heard? Had Wolfhide contacted him already and told him a lie? I should have thought about that and got there first! Dammit!

Tank: “Wha… I…”

Mr. Grey: “Fredricks failed to check in to the outpost on Zarus as Wolfhide knew he had to. What happened?”

Tank: “I…”

I tried to think of an excuse, but the story I had come up with en route now wouldn’t work because he knew that something was wrong! After a few seconds of not being able to think of a story, I just came out with the truth.

Tank: “Look, I rescued Fredricks from the base just like you said, and found Tracks here in there too.” I indicated to Tracks who was stood behind me. Mr. Grey didn’t look the slightest bit interested. “We got out and made it to Etrion where we met up with Wolfhide, again, just like you said. But then *Wolfhide* shot him off the damned room!”

Mr. Grey: “What?” he asked disbelievingly, like I was a kid telling a really obvious lie.

Tank: “There was nothing I could do! It was completely unprovoked!”

Mr. Grey: “So you’re telling me that the highest paid marauder in the galaxy terminated his own charge?”

Tank: “Yes!”

Mr. Grey: “Well needless to say I don’t believe you.” he stated curtly.

Tank: “Well what do you want me to do?” I was starting to get angry now and Tracks joined in with a series of indignant and defensive whirs. Mr. Grey sneered at him like he was some wild animal.

Mr. Grey: “Please keep your… droid, under control.”

Tracks: \*Growl.\*

I took a deep breath to calm myself.

Tank: “Tracks.” I warned quietly and he took a step back with another warning growl. “So what *do* you want me to do? I can’t prove anything to you.”

Mr. Grey: “No. You can’t. All I have to go on is your word.”

I couldn’t think of anything to say so instead remained silent.

Mr. Grey: “For all I know he could have been killed during the escape from the facility.”

Tank: “He wasn’t.”

Mr. Grey stood silently for a good period of time, just looking at me and then just when it was beginning to be unbearable, he spoke again.

Mr. Grey: “Okay. I believe you.”

Once again, the mysterious man took me by surprise.

Tank: “What?”

Mr. Grey: “Look, I don’t have time to argue. I have decided to believe your story. I’ve thought it all through and it’s only logical, so yes; I believe you.”

Tank: “Oh…. Okay then?” I was rather taken aback by his sudden change in view.

Mr. Grey: “Now here, take this.”

He passed me a small, handheld console.

Tank: “What’s this?” I asked, examining it.

Mr. Grey: “It’s a more secure way of us communicating and it also allows me to send you your assignments directly, meaning we don’t have to meet up every time you complete something for us.”

Tank: “Oh okay then.”

Mr. Grey: “The Brain feels that it’s not the best use of my time.”

Tank: “Fair enough.” I conceded.

Mr. Grey: “Now, I need to be going. I have much to do.”

Tank: “Of course.”

Mr. Grey: “Your next assignment is already loaded onto the datapad.”

I glanced at it but it was currently turned off.

Tank: “Am I ever allowed a break?” I joked.

Mr. Grey: “Only when we allow it.” He replied seemingly serious.

Tank: “Oh…”

He started to walk away.

Mr. Grey: “Contact me via the datapad once you’re done.” He called back over his shoulder.

I didn’t reply, instead I just turned to walk away, turning on the datapad as I did.

Tracks and I walked back in the direction of the Viper and I flicked through the new information on the datapad as we went. I was still reading when Tracks started making warning bleeps and whirs.

I looked up and we both stopped in our tracks.

We were near to the Viper now, but surrounding the ship was a large number of Imperial soldiers and in front of it: a tank.

Tank: “S\*\*\*.” I cursed and tucked the datapad into my satchel.

I had been hoping that the troops hadn’t seen us but that very second, they started running towards us, weapons aimed.

I put my hands up and Tracks did likewise after looking at me like I was a coward.

We were marched closer to our ship and stopped in front of the tank. A second later, the roof hatch opened and an Imperial Colonel half emerged.

Col. Ramson: “Greetings Mr. Rockwell!” he shouted down at us.

Tank: “What do you want?” I asked, getting straight to the point, however he ignored me.

Col. Ramson: “I am Colonel Xavier Ramson of the Galactic Imperium. And I have here a warrant for either your capture or your extermination.” He held up a datafile.

Col. Ramson: “So what’s it going to be? I’m happy either way.”

Tank: “On what charges?”

I full well knew the charges but I was stalling – trying to figure out a way out of the situation. Because I was *NOT* going back to prison and I certainly was not going to be killed!

Col. Ramson: “On two counts of prison break, one count of breaking and entering and twelve counts of murder.”

So they’d seen me on the security footage inside the containment facility… Great.

Col. Ramson: “So are you coming with us or do I get to terminate you?”

Tank: “How about neither?”

Tracks had always been good at guessing what my plans were and so as I drew my pistols and blasted down the guard nearest to me, he did the same.

He continued shooting the guards as I ran as fast as I could *towards* the tank.

I could see the Colonel’s face turn to confusion as I ran towards him. He shouted something down into the belly of the tank and the turret began to rote towards me. But I could move faster than the turret and so had quickly got around to the rear of the vehicle and climbed onto it.

Col. Ramson: “What the hell are you doing?” the colonel bellowed as I dropped to my knees at the rear of the turret. It kept turning though, the gunner inside trying to locate me, which meant I kept having to move around with it.

Col. Ramson: “Stop!” he bellowed and began to climb out of the hatch. I quickly leapt up and shoved him hard and, not expecting it, he toppled backwards into the machine. I slammed the hatch down, hoping to buy myself some more time.

But instead, I was nearly knocked off my feet as the turret let rip and the whole beast shook. I fell over and had to cling on to stop myself falling off. I looked over and to my horror discovered that the shell had hit only a meter or so from the right wing of the Viper!

I pulled myself back up and hurriedly fiddled around with the wiring in the control box and at last found what I was looking for.

I ripped out a cable and then, using another one, short circuited the turret’s controls and managed to take control. I swung the turret around to face Tracks and the remaining GI soldiers who were still locked in battle.

Tank: “TRACKS!" I bellowed and he saw me.

He leapt out of the way just as I made the cannon fire.

The shell exploded amid the GI soldiers and blew nearly every one of them up.

Tank: “Go!” I shouted at tracks who sprinted towards the Viper and opened the cockpit and climbed in.

I leapt down from the tank just as the colonel managed to open the hatch again.

Col. Ramson: ”Nooooooooooo!”

I leapt into the pilot’s seat of the viper and we took off, flying straight over the tank and the few remaining men. As I looked behind us as we flew away, I could see the Colonel waving his fists in the air in anger.

However, our joy at escaping was short lived when we discovered that the shell explosion next to the wing had obviously caused some damage.

Just moments later, a small fire broke out on the wing and the ship began to tilt to that side.

Tank: “No, no, no, NO! Come ON!” I shouted and fought to remain in control.

There was only one thing I could do…

Take us down to Earth: Homeworld of the GI.

It was a bumpy ride, but throughout I kept control: just, and was soon able to bring us down to land on the planet’s surface.

Tank: “Great…” I muttered aloud sarcastically.

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