Furballs

<snip>Jaxx however was too tired and slow as the wave kept him from reaching the others in time. As he tumbled under water he helplessly saw the currents separate the crew-members in many directions.</snip>

Alex’s log caught on something, and the already aching man was tossed high, like a bronc rider in skeeter season.
He thumped against the curved wall as his crewmates whooshed onward without him. Great he thought, as he skidded back into the rushing torrent below just what I smeggin’ needed.
Before he could try and catch up, he was snatched by the water’s unmerciful hand and diverted into another tunnel, swept easily along like a mere discarded black ribbed nobbler. He hated the thought of any of his crewmates being thrown around in a similar fashion by the cruel water, and was especially uncomfortable at the thought of the far lighter Jade, Cass and Katrina being aquamauled. He bellowed in frustration, using language the perky doctor would surely not have approved of.
Eventually his flooded tunnel seemed to slope upwards, the rain died down to a spit, and the torrent and the current lessened, till, after a while, he could actually just stand and walk up the slope.
He slopped out, wet and angry, part of his mind thinking that modern technology (the small round lights studding the walls) mixed with the earthy tunnel was a weird combination.
As for the freakin’ indoor storm… Some sort of... environmental defence system? Crafty smegs.
P’raps he could disable it somehow, though the fact that the Roo were… thingies… Atemporal beings - meant perhaps that wouldn’t be so easy. Worth a go though.

He scruffed some of the water out of his hair and tried to get his bearings. There was a door up ahead. Looked like that was his route out.
He slipped his pack off, silently thanking Jaxx for grabbing it, and solemnly pulled out a submachine gun, a 9mm SNIG JLS. Hello, old friend. It wasn't actually one of the guns he'd used during his service, but the same model as his 'favourite'. He caressed it, and anyone watching would have seen his eye twitch, just a little.
The inner lining of his pack was waterproof, but even if it weren’t, the sleekly designed SNIG JLS was created to withstand water bore obstruction – you could go diving with one of the smeggers and it’d still work perfectly when you surfaced. Ammo? Plenty. He tooled up, and headed to the door.

---
Fifteen minutes later and, limping like a goodun, he found himself deep, deep in the warrens. The tunnel beyond the door was long, slender, and horribly claustrophobic. So far there’d been no Roo, no Dwarfers, and no doors. Just endless tunnel. It was dimly lit and it was an effort not to let the walls press in on him. He tried to concentrate on the fact the floor was sloping uphill, and imagined it was leading to the surface. It was probably bollocks, but it made him feel better.
He’d been in tunnels like this before-
“Gah” he shook the thought from his head. No. He wasn’t going to go there. He couldn’t go there. He pushed it away, the mental action practiced and precise. There it went… into the bottom drawer.

But, a less-disciplined part of him thought, as a layer of sweat breached his skin, it was almost like he was there again.
He span as he heard rifle fire and shouting behind him. The bastards had tracked him. But there was nowhere to hide, no vantage point from which to defend himself, and no doors through which to dart. He had one choice: Run.

He forced himself to hobble through the pain of his ripped calf, and the faster he hobbled, the more his adrenaline increased, the more freely he moved, and the less pain he felt, until eventually he was running, pelting up the deep, stuffy tunnel like his life depended on it. Which it probably did.
He burst from the top of the tunnel, through a double door, to find himself in a more human-construction-like corridor. It was still oval, but was brightly lit and sterile, not earthy at all. And there were doors.
He strained his ears but the rifle fire seemed to have stopped. Not wanting to get caught, he ducked into a room – it looked like some sort of classroom - and slid under a table, where he sat... shivering... like a frightened kid. Which wasn't very Alex-like.
Get it together, Solvay.
He mentally slapped himself and drank deeply from his water flask, thought for a moment, then also drank deeply from his hipflask.
A nasty, spiteful, frightening thought poked at him.
Had the rifle fire even been real?
F*ck.
“Gotta… Gotta disable the environmental controls” he mumbled, unconsciously rubbing one of his scars with an anxious thumb. His own voice sounded weird. Pushitaway pushitaway.
A throb in his head reminded him of his medi-bag caused wound and he pulled out his bandana – still packed for the Bedge mission – and tied it around his forehead. It made him feel better. It was nice and tight. Holding his mind together.
---
He stuck a careful head out into the corridor, before heading out and speed limping his way along it, looking for some clue as to where the weather systems might be. Maybe he wasn't even in the right area? Who knew!? He laughed, bitterly. Then slapped himself, not mentally but actually this time, and pulled it together. Gotta check the rooms....
Nothing helpful in this one - just a stockpile of sunflower seeds, or this one – a deserted rodentine gym, complete with enormous exercise wheels.
What about this one? He looked through the window to almost immediately dart aside. Shit! This one was occupied. It looked like some kind of monitoring room, complete with a pair of oversized, donut munching, security gerbils. So why hadn’t they monitored him?
He looked around the corridor, still wary of the rifle-wielding enemies, then peered back through the glass. He tilted his head at what he saw. The two male security gerbils appeared to be making sweet animal love, phasing in and out of this dimension as they did so. Alex had heard the phrase ‘humping like rabbits’ but never ‘gyrating like gerbils’.
He pulled a face and kicked the door open, brandishing his SNIG with calm-menace. “All right, which one of you furry fuckers is gonna show me the way to the environmental controls?”
They looked at wild-eyed human, separated themselves and – not cute at all, only seethingly vicious - leapt, huge teeth a-chomp.
Perhaps their coital activities had dulled their focus, because Solvay managed to smash one in the face with his SNIG, span and grabbed the other by the throat. After a second or two his hand passed through it - damn, they were doing something atemporaly, and he could only touch them for moments at a time.

Perhaps he couldn’t hold on to them, but maybe Roo tech could. Holding his gun in one hand, with the other he snatched at what looked like a souped up nightstick with all sorts of bits and bobs on it, including a TASER-like attachment. Cass had said most of the technology would slip through human hands. Most… He chanced it. Solid. He jabbed a button and a cruel ‘animal-control’ type noose shot out, only this one was fizzing with energy. That’d contain one of the bastards.
As for the other... Hmm. They were rounding on him. What could he do? He could touch them for mere moments… Maybe ‘moments’ was all he needed.
He booted the most obnoxious looking one in the stupid furry love spuds and it folded. The other snarled, pained to see his partner's equipment so brutally bashed, but before he could leap, Alex slipped the noose over its head and around its neck.

“Unless you want your nads stored in your cheekpouches,” he began “I suggest you take me to the weather control system, and turn the rain the smeg off.”
“That’s hamsters…”
“What?”
“Hamsters are the ones with the pouches.”
Alex twitched again, his whole head this time. “D-don’t push me, I will lose my shit.”
The gerbil felt the danger, and did as he was told.
---
After the environment was satisfactorily under control Alex kicked the stupid rodent in the nuts anyway, pulled him back to the room where his lover was still slumped, then headed back to destroy the control room.

To be doubly sure it wouldn't mess with them any more, he used one of his charges to blow it the f*ck up, striding calmly away and lighting a fag, as the room exploded hugely down the corridor behind him.

<To Be Continued>