Bob was bored, Part 5

Chapter 5

Bob was bored,he was bored,hewasbored,boredboredboredcalmdowncalmdowncalmdown. His heart pumped frantically as he tried to come down from the fight, perhaps ‘fight’ was a bit of an overstatement, the corridor he stood in that had formerly held the pirates boarding party, and all the rest that had rushed from the breach down towards him as reinforcements looked rather like someone had tied a bunch of chainsaws together and tossed them into a well full of beef, though several of the fluids that now stained the floor, and walls, and ceiling were distinctly not the classic Terran blood red and the melange that pooled around his feet had an odd greeny purple tint with an oily sheen floating atop.

All the pirates were obviously, abundantly dead… extremely dead, almost unbelievably dead to the point infact that if you tossed a load of meat into the piles it would be difficult to tell which bits of ragged flesh had even been alive recently.

The Arressi suits humanity had been issued were, when you got down to it, an extremely refined weapon package, even Bob’s issued by the Arressi Scout Service, or A.S.S holes as everyone had called them, was a tremendous asset in a battle.

Add in 5’1 of Napoleon complex, rage, and the extensive upgrades and you produced a package the Pira… probably slavers actually judging off the weaponry they had carried, designed for capture rather than fatal damages, the whatever, ‘boarders’ had not reckoned on having to deal with. So when Bob had sprinted through them whirling madly with the asymmetric blades that shot forward from his forearms, one thick machete or kukri style and the other sharpened linked sections reminiscent of whip swords from the old computer games Bob had played, it had very much the same effect as dropping them into a blender. Aliens, in Bobs experience, tended to be more low density and spongy than you might think. They were much larger sure, and a killing stroke often had to be much deeper simply to reach anything vital, often requiring his arm to follow the blade into the cut upto the elbow or even shoulder.

His hands shook viciously as he tried to think these things, trying to distract himself from the slaughter with cold analysis, but it wasn’t working… it never did…

Instead he broke down and started wailing, heaving sobs shaking his frame spasmodically as he sank to his knees.

The ‘upgrades’ would not let him calm the fuck down, it having been militarily efficient, to tinker with human biology before stuffing them in a suit and sending them to die. Battle drugs? No need! Humans already have the adrenal gland right, just make it ten times larger and produce way faster you can take those few moments they had naturally and stretch that shit out to, oh, half an hour or so… Hearts going to explode?… well wrap that shit in a mesh and just fucking force it to keep pumping. Hypoxia?… jesus you lot are so fucking fragile, fine upgrade the efficiency of the lungs and pipe oxygen directly directly to the alveoli, hey we can add a hipflask of LOX and in emergencies it’ll pump straight in, one litre is enough right? that’ll give you a full day even at high use… what the incredibly cold expanding gas makes it feels like you’re burning to death?, well the nanites will fix the damage, is all you can do complain?.

Bob ripped off his helmet as he heard the footsteps of the freighters crew start to pound down an adjacent corridor, the claustraphobia and pain overwhelming.

Clouds of frozen air flooded out his mouth and nose and he felt the extreme cold freeze his tongue and palette, sinuses locking in agony. Frantically he pawed at the bracer controls trying to close the various valves that had open automatically at certain physiological triggers, and felt a moments relief as the pressure that streamed out his airway slackened.

Imbedded elements started to defrost his frozen flesh, bringing heat from passively filled heat dumps located around his body, and the biotic nanites that flooded his system from a constantly producing factory of the things located somewhere in his chest, started to repair the flash frozen mush that currently represented his mouth.

The system was so fast that by the time the crew had come to the corridors end and taken a moment to process the butchery that filled it Bob had already started to vomit the unusable waste the ‘medic’ system had carved from his oesophagus, incidently agonising… what you want anaesthetic too?, nah, just be less of a pussy.

One of them moved over and grasped Bob’s shoulder as he began to gather himself.

‘’Courier?’’

Bob shook off the hand and rose unsteadily.

‘’Fine…, I’m fine…’’

The crewman panned over the scene and clearly caught notice of the invaders weaponry themselves.

‘’Slavers…’’

It motioned disgust.

‘’Thank you, we would not have resisted so many… we will report your braver…’’

Bob clutched at it desperatly.

‘’NO!, I mean’’ he struggled to assemble his thoughts but the panic cut through him automatically, ‘’...Please no, I’m not,’’ He gulped painfully, ‘’ Im not supposed to interfere… if you tell the Guild…’’

A deep breath and implored.

‘’Please they’ll take my promotion…’’

The alien glanced back at the others and received a few fervent agreements.

‘’Then this never happened, we will cut the ship loose and clean this up, but from each of us and our familys, a debt it owed…’’

It turned and started to issue orders about prying the boarders craft free but was interrupted by another tug on its arm from Bob, it turned and watched as he forced his helmet back on, the air pressure was to low on the ship for prolonged breathing.

‘’Wait…’’ He drew in deeply and straightened fully.

‘’Lets loot these bastards first...’’