Goose Saves Terra-Part V
From Betamountain.org
Goose Saves Terra-Part V
Zach sat and took in Hahz's advice, then stood up, dusting himself off.
"Well, that was well and good, but I'd like to know what these three factions are up to right now." He looked at Hahz. "You say that the last bit of Earth's protective energies or whatever will disipate when the Tournament begins?"
"Well, the Kombatants will not be protected from treachery, but the gates to the Outworld will remain mostly closed until the victor decides what to do with them. Between dawn and then, you may be subjected to attacks that you will probably not consider 'sporting', or even rational; do yourself and Terra a favor and get out of that mindset right now. You are facing Kombatants, and creatures, from many lands on both sides of the barriers, not all of which treat the martial arts as 'sports'."
Zach nodded. "Fair enough. I'd still like to get a look at the invaders' strategy, if we can find it."
"Or them," Niko said, rising and stretching. "Remember, if these particular three groups are stuck working together, you can bet that they're watching their backs and trying to find a way to stab their 'partners' in theirs."
Doc and Goose nodded assent as they got to their feet, followed by Buzzwang and Hahz. "I cannot tell you where the 'visiting' factions' fighters are quartered in the fortress," Hahz said with a frown. "All I can do is tell you where the usual locations for matches are, and let you examine them yourselves. Time is a bit strange here in the Outworld, but you should get some sleep before the Tournament." The gaunt man mentioned several locations, including a spot on a beach not too far from the boat-dock and a forest with a canopy so thick that it was deeply shadowed even at high noon, then let the Rangers go their ways.
Away from the stone garden in which they left Hahz, the Rangers discussed plans. Eventually, they decided to split up: Doc, Buzzwang and Niko in one group, and Gooose and Zach in the other.
"Since our chronometers aren't working right, we'll have to try to get together back at our quarters half an hour before dawn," Zach said. "Hopefully, we'll all find something useful. If anyone gets in trouble, we won't know about it until you don't show up for the Tournament."
"At least until someone shows us how to use the intercom," Doc added.
"What about traps, Captain?" Buzzwang asked.
"If you find any, try not to set 'em off," Goose said. "Deactivate them if you can, but just try to avoid them. Let us know where you found them, and we can go from there."
The adroid nodded.
As the others turned to go, Niko paused for a moment. "Before we go..."
"What?" Doc asked.
Niko spread her arms and motioned everyone, Buzzwang included, to move closer. "This place is so full of strange energy and powerful emotions, we should probably do something to keep our own spirits centered."
Doc blinked. "Niko, we don't have time to go through those meditations again..."
She smiled and shook her head. "Nothing that elaborate, Doc, we don't really have time. For now, I was thinking of just a not-so-ancient ritual of teamwork."
The group was arranged in a rough circle, about five feet across. Niko moved everone so that their shoulders were touching, then stuck her hand out into the center of the circle. Goose frowned, but Zach's face lit up from a grin the Rangers hadn't seen there in months; the Captain reached out and put his organic hand on top of Niko's and glanced at Doc.
Understanding dawned. "Got it! C'mon, Goose, Buzzwang, pile hands."
When there were five palms stacked on top of each other, five voices said in unison, "Galaxy Rangers, HO!"
Then, the group split up, but only one pair of hooded eyes hidden in shadow noticed the almost-invisible, golden glow surrounding all five as they went...
Zach and Goose made their way through the craggy fortress, passing galleries carved from the living stone and archways over apparently bottomless gulfs. The corridors they moved through were large, lit by a bizarre collection of sconces, torches, oil-lamps, and even, impossibly, large candles. They wandered for an hour or so, eventually finding themselves on a landing on the lower third of a grand staircase at least five meters wide.
"This place is gigantic," Zach noted as they went, shrugging and turning to head downward. Goose followed.
"Ancient, too," Goose said, noting the layers of dust along the sides of the corridor. As they passed a cobwebbed tunnel, they heard metallic clanking sounds and flat voices making not-quite-intelligible conversation.
The two men glanced at each other and nodded, pushing through the webbing.
A few minutes later, they were crouched behind a waist-high outcropping forming a handrail to a balcony of sorts, concealed among a half-dozen other irregularities in the wall. They watched a Crown Trooper in cream-white, bone-like armor sit on a thronelike chair and examine the contents of a feast-table before him; it seemed to be a collection of the finest and foulest that Terran cooks could create, the bowls and plates arranged in no particular order. To his right was the fortress's majordomo, who was selecting morsels from the selection with a pair of long chopsticks, his movements curiously graceful for such an apparently wizened old man. There were a good two dozen empty plates stacked near the edge of the table, though only ten more human-sized folk could have fit around it comfortably. Four of the silent, hooded men stood at the edge of the room, each with a large towel in one hand.
(I wonder why these guys didn't eat at the feast with the rest of the guests,) Goose thought.
"Jamadou," the Crown Trooper said, his voice low and rolling, as he turned his head slightly to face the other. "...Again, I want to know why I was not allowed to poison the Kombatants and end this farce quickly."
The ancient-looking fellow paused, holding a crayfish between his chopsticks; the hidden Rangers could see that the mottled-green creature was still alive as it waved its legs and claws with feeble motions. "Commander Conch," the man replied, "I had thought that your Queen of the Crown had explained that Terra's defenses will allow no active treachery before the Tournament begins. Did you not see how the food near that fellow from that delightfully damp European country... 'England', I believe... glowed brightly enough for every eye in the hall to see?"
The Trooper nodded, spearing what looked like a purple Swedish meatball with a double-tined fork and slowly rolling it back and forth in his grip.
"That glow was Terra's warning of poison, Commander. The Master knew that there were at least four Kombatants in the Tournament who had the... shall we say, 'competitive drive' to trim the competition before the matches began, but only this one chose to follow the stragegy through. Hence, he 'volunteered' to display Commander Quartzite's prowess and show the other Kombatants what they were up against."
Commander Conch drew the meatball closer to his helmet with a pensive motion, cupping his chin in his free hand. "I recognize the strategy," he said, looking for all the world like he was smelling the morsel. "Allowing the subjects a bit of hope of victory before crushing it." He replaced the meatball in its bowl and replaced the fork on the table. "I suppose that it wouldn't do for two Marked Troopers to duel before the Tournament began..."
A pebble rolled away from Goose's fingertip; he had risen from a crouch and supported himself on the 'handrail' to get a better look at the Marked Trooper. (I'll finally get to see how these guys eat,) he had thought to himself, but hadn't noticed the loose pebble until it was too late.
Both of the diners' heads turned in unison toward the Rangers' observing post, but neither seemed to see them precisely. "I believe that the spiders are getting bigger," Jamadou said, raising two fingers of his free hand and gesturing at the hooded attendants; a pair bowed and stepped through a nearby door.
Zach and Goose stayed just long enough to see Jamadou's mouth flare open as two vertical mandibles extended, engulfing the still-struggling crayfish...
"We could serch this place for weeks and never find a telephone, let alone the Crown Troopers' quarters, the Sorcerors, *or* this 'Shang Tsung', Doc was saying, as the other group made their way through a lava-tube corridor.
"Not exactly," Niko said. "Remember that the Crown contingent, the Sorcerors, and Shang Tsung's people are supposedly working together, but none of them like it very much."
"That's what Hahz said," Buzzwang put in, trying to keep up with the humans' rapid steps.
"But how does that help us?" Doc went on, waving to indicate the entire fortress. "They could be anywhere! Even right next to us, behind some spooky hidden door."
"Well, I think that the Sorcerors are likely to be near whatever library this place might have, and the Crown Troopers would probably be as far from Shang Tsung's people as possible. We know where the Terran Kombatants are quartered, so why don't we start near there and work outward?"
Doc stopped walking and considered this; the others followed suit. "Actually, I'm kind of curious about the effects that this place has on my tweakers," he answered, patting the CDU on his belt. "I haven't had a chance to run a diagnostic since Tripwire messed up that magic surveillance in our quarters."
"Do you want to spend Badge energy on that?" Niko asked.
"Y'know, I would," Doc said after a moment. "While Tripwire was out, it was like he was pulling energy from the air, but it was flowing through me and getting me pretty winded. Then, when he came back to the CDU, it was like I'd just finished a couple of laps at the track; I was a little tired, but not near as drained as I felt like while he was out."
"Hmmm..."
"You could put one of the tweakers in me, Doc," Buzzwang put in. "That way, you could check my functioning and test their operations at the same time."
"It might be a good idea, at that," Doc said after a moment. "We don't seem to have found any sign of anyone that we're looking for, and I can't see that we're in any particular hurry..."
He unclipped his CDU, and held it out, facing Buzzwang, but before he could hit his Badge, Niko hissed, "Someone's coming!"
The Rangers ducked into a deep, shadowed crack in the wall as a troop of hooded servants rounded a corner from a perpendicular passage. They were silently marching in pairs, carrying loads of paper and writing utensils in baskets and hung from poles supported at each end by one of the silent servants.
Doc, closest to the opening, observed their burdens and whispered to his companions, "Follow 'em?"
Niko nodded, Buzzwang agreeing a half-second later. Doc waited until the servants were well past the Rangers' hiding place, then he motioned for the others to follow as he darted out to another hiding place...