Three Weeks Later…
It was 11:53 at night, precisely three weeks after the first file had been stolen. On The Manipulator, Blast sat in his chair in his quarters, unable to sleep, resting his head in his hands and staring at the opposite wall. Just thinking about who the intruder could be. He went through everything in his mind.
Whoever it was, never left the ship. They must have security clearance to open up the files on the system, so either they had stolen the codes from someone or it was an actual member of the U.R.S.. He prayed it wasn’t the latter option.
He checked the clock. 11:55. Suddenly an idea struck him. He rose from his chair and left the room.
A few minutes later he entered the corridor leading to the war room.
“Sir.” The guards saluted him.
“Good work.” Blast encouraged them as he past between them and entered the war room.
It was empty inside. All the lights were switched off and there was nobody else around. The only light came from the faintly glowing consoles. Blast walked amongst them and checked the main, circular one. The one the intruder used every night. He checked the time again. 11:58.
He walked back towards the door, but instead of going outside he walked over to the right, to where the wall dipped in before coming out again in the corner of the room.
He crouched down and backed right into the hole, hidden in the shadows.
One minute ‘till midnight. One minute ‘till the intruder was due to strike again.
Blast waited, listening out for any sounds from outside the room.
Then bang on midnight he heard two muffled cries. He frowned and pressed right back into the wall.
The door opened and the black figure strode in, it’s hood shadowing its face as always. Blast watched as it walked up to the main console and typed in the security codes. It was granted access and they instantly delved into the war files. All the plans for U.R.S. bases, blueprints for new weapons, planned attacks. Everything. The files streamed out and were sent to the F.I.S..
A couple of minutes past and Blast watched as more and more files were sent. He decided that it was time to act. He decided he was going to launch himself at the figure, but as he adjusted himself for the launch, his helmet hit the wall making a small thump noise.
Blast froze as the intruder’s head whipped in his direction. He kept perfectly still, hidden in the darkness as the figure stared into the shadows, trying to see what the noise was.
Then console beeped and the intruder grabbed their device and swooped from the room.
Blast breathed a sigh of relief and waited a few seconds before getting up and silently sneaking out of the room.
Up ahead at the far end of the corridor, the figure turned right and disappeared from sight. Blast jogged after it and stooped at the junction. He poked his head around the corner just as the figure rounded the next corner. The U.R.S. head darted after it and once again stopped at the end of the corridor.
This secretive following continued for quite a few minutes until the figure disappeared into one of the smaller hanger bays.
Blast frowned and followed it into the bay. He raised his eyebrows as the intruder walked up to a small U.R.S. Ram-Class shuttle called The Skylark and opened the boarding ramp.
Blast ducked down behind a crate as the figure checked behind them before walking up the ramp.
Blast leapt up and ran towards the back of the craft. He stopped with his back against the ship next to the ramp and waited, listening to any sounds from inside.
There were none. Blast slowly looked inside the ship and saw the dark figure, still in its cloak and hood rifling through some papers on the small desk with its back to him.
He stepped slowly and carefully onto the ramp and crept inside. He was now barely a meter away.
Blast acted. He went to grab the intruder but unexpectedly the dark person spun round and punched him in the face. Blast staggered backwards and the figure lunged at him.
Blast grabbed the person’s shoulders and pushed back against them as they attempted to push him from the ship. They grappled and pushed against each other and it soon became clear the Blast was stronger.
The figure groaned under the pressure and it’s grip slipped. Blast took the chance and flung the figure’s other arm off, grabbed the front of its robes,
and rammed it backwards against the desk.
The figure’s hood slipped off as their head flung back in pain.
Blast froze in horror and shock as he realized he was holding Elite Captain Jelli. She groaned and wrenched Blast’s hands off of her robes. She slipped out from his grasp, as he stood there unmoving, staring aghast at where she had been.
“I’m sorry.” She whispered as she slipped her black robes off and let them fall to the floor. She was wearing her armour underneath and opened up a cupboard and pulled out her helmet.
She tucked it under her arm and then walked into the cockpit and typed some co-ordinates into the navigation system. She set the controls to auto pilot then ran back to where her leader was still stood, shell-shocked, unmoving.
“Sorry.” She whispered again and leapt from the boarding ramp as it started to close.
She looked back as the ramp closed up and the ship started to hover and then flew out of the hanger, with Blast still inside.
The Skylark jetted off, away from The Manipulator, The Valentine and the U.R.S. with the legendary commander on board, unmoving. Frozen in shock. Unwilling to accept what had just happened.
Jelli stood watching from the hanger bay, her helmet at her feet. A tear formed in her eye but she blinked it away. She’d done what she’d had to. The hanger door opening behind her then distracted her.
“Who was that?” Padfoot asked coming in and walking up to her.
She looked at him and now she cried. She dropped her helmet and flung her arms around him, sobbing. “What’s wrong? Jelli; Tell me.” Padfoot asked, hugging her and looking down at her.
“It was Blast.” She cried. “He’s left us.” She lied through her tears.
“Yes. He said we were never going to win. He said we were doomed.” Jelli sniffed. Padfoot stared in shock out into space. “He wouldn’t.” he said in disbelief. “Not Blast.”
“He did. What are we going to do? We can’t carry on without him. We’ll have to surrender.” Jelli let go of him and looked into his eyes. The U.R.S. second in command looked down at her.
“No. We can do it. Prove Blast wrong.”
An unnoticeable flash of anger passed across Jelli’s eyes at the words. “We’ll continue the war. We’ll continue it and win it.”
“But who will lead us? We have nobody willing to do it.” Jelli asked wiping her eyes.
“I will. I’ll lead us. Lead us all to victory. Prove that deserter, Blast, wrong.” Padfoot said triumphantly. Jelli put a smile on her face.
“Are you sure? You could do that? Would the others follow you?”
“Yes. But we need to talk to the other leaders before anything is decided.”
Jelli nodded in agreement then went and picked up her helmet. “C’mon. We need to tell everyone what’s happened and discuss what we’re going to do.” Padfoot said solemnly and put his arm around Jelli’s shoulders.
Together they walked across the bay and back into the corridors.
BUT WHAT WILL HAPPEN NEXT? FIND OUT IN PART 15! COMING FRIDAY 27TH APRIL!
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