Attack of the Space Pirates!

Doc whispers, "Hold up Steve, we've got company."

Doc and Steve both ready their Pain guns. Doc grips his switchblade tightly, his thumb on the release.

"Oi, maets, theres a fakin ferk intha road ahed!" One of the pirates says.

"Bout fakin taime. Letsch goe!"

"They're comming this way," whispers Steve.

"We should go back," insists Doc.

"Too late," Steve responds.

Doc watches the three men get to their feet and come around the corner. The red and blue superimposed blobs become flesh and blood faces. Three rough-looking characters who look like they were just tossed out of a bar, not for brawling but for fighting dirty. They have the surprised look of rats in a corner.

Doc fires his pain gun at their leader almost instinctively. Steve follows suit and hits the one to the left.

"FAK ME RUNIN," screams the leader. He tries momentarily to block the pain but finds all he can do is run back down the hall they came from. His right hand man does follows him, hunched over in pain as he goes back around the corner. Their other friend remains stunned in suprise.

But only for a moment. The pirate reacts with fighting instincts. He draws his own pain gun and fires it at Doc. The new armor helps, but that unfortunately familiar sting stabs him in the face like an elephant wearing golf shoes standing on his eyes. He has no choice but to back off and try to recover.

Steve turns his pain gun on the last pirate. His gristled five o'clock shadow mug gets assaulted by microwaves. He runs off with his friends. Steve backs off and joins Doc.

The leader of the pirates comes back around the corner, drawing his peculiar pistol from his leg holster. There is a lound blast as a lead slug breaks the sound barrier as it exits the muzzle of the weapon. The bullet whizzes overhead as Doc and Steve instinctively duck down.

Steve hits him again with the pain gun. Again he screams. He drops his weapon as he ducks back down the hallway. His buddy appears in his place, also wielding his pistol. He fires at Doc, but the shot goes wide and ricochets off a wall behind him.

The pirate that stunned Doc comes back around the corner, machette drawn. Doc sees him going after the fallen pistol. It's a race. Doc dives across the hallway and snatches up the weapon just as the pirate reaches for it. Suddenly, he's back in the holobooth playing Shootout! Doc turns the gun on the pirate and pulls the trigger.

There's no smoke or gunpowder, but the little thing has quite a kick. The bullet slides easily out of the muzzle, into the pirate's gut, and out the other side. The machete falling towards Doc head slumps weakly to the ground. The pirate doubles over, clenching his gut.

Meanwhile Steve keeps the second pirate back by hitting him again with the pain gun. The gun wielding bastard is again slammed with radioactive pain and is forced back around the corner.

The pirates' leader comes back around the corner an throws his fist at Doc's head. "Yeh fakin shot Donneh yeh faken mathefaker!" His rage amplifies his strength, and Doc takes it full on the temple like a wrecking ball.

Doc ignores the wounded pirate's pathetic attempt to avenge himself. The machete falls weakly against his armor, not even cutting through his uniform disguise. Instead, Doc turns the gun on his attacker and plugs him. Pirate leader's chest explodes against the back wall, and he falls to the ground to quietly bleed to death.

Steve attempts to kick the wounded pirate in the head, but he's still got enough faculties about him to move out of the way of the thick rubber lab boot.

The remaining pirate, the one who still has a gun, appears back around the corner. "SHAIM!" he yells as he levels his gun at Doc. His eyes are red with tears from the pain of loss and microwaves. The gun goes off wildly before his aim is anywhere near complete. The recoil removes the weapon from his shaking hand, flinging its self backwards down the hall. He slumps to his knees before his fallen comrade.

It's not long, though, before vengance returns to him. He draws a combat knife from his belt and charges at Doc. The blade sings past Doc stomach as he jumps back out of the way. Doc pops off a round at him instinctively, but it misses as his aim moves during the dodge.

"Ye killed Shaim! FAKER!" Yells the wounded pirate as he swings again with the machete. This time the blade connects. Doc feels the impact reactive gel stiffen up as it absorbs the blow.

Meanwhile, Steve runs down the hall for the gun. The knife wielding pirate takes a wild swing at him as he passes, but fails to accomplish anything. The wounded, machete wielding pirate named Donneh is unfazed by his inability to wound Doc, and takes another miserable swing, missing by a long shot. Steve reaches the gun. The unwounded pirate slashes at Doc.

Reacting on instinct, Doc catches the cold blade with his naked hand and immediately regrets the decision. The cut goes deep, but Doc holds on. He uses it to pull the pirate right into the muzzle of the gun. He fires. The pirate releases his grip on the blade and slumps to the floor.

"GAFF!" Yells the last pirate, Donneh. "Ye killed meh maits! YE KILLED MEH MAITS!" He raises the machete with a newfound well of strength and determination. He releases a warcry and begins to bring it down upon Doc. His brains leap from his skull and splash across Doc's face. The pirate falls to the ground, his weapon clanging to the floor beside him.

Steve holds the gun in his shaking hands. "I've never done that before," he says, shocked.

"You saved my life," Doc replies, nearly out of breath. "He was going to kill me. You had to do it. You saved my life."

"Yeah. Yeah, I guess I did."

Doc takes the satchel from him and digs out the medkit. He disinfects his cut, wraps it up, pops some pain pills, and does his best to wipe the blood off his face and uniform.

Steve inspects the bodies. Each of them were carrying InstaCredit cards, which are in essense miniature, portable electronic banks with no identification information attached. He also finds a keycard.

"Here's how they were getting around in here. Looks like they got a card off of some poor, probably dead staff officer. CPO Noel Peterson, QM. No idea where it leads. He could be a secure data courier, he could be in charge of laundry."

"QM is Quartermaser."

"Still, he could be in charge of handing out firearms or potatoes at lunchtime. Then again there's always the slim chance it will take us directly to Veronica. Should we follow it?"