Chapter 2:
Gimme a Hand
The soft hum of the faster than light engine filled the long, oddly colored hall. The walls were all a glossy black metal- not inviting at all. If it hadn't been for the insets in the walls, it would have been impossible to find the doors. There were no signs, directions, or maps to follow either. The floors and ceilings were made of glossy white metal plates, which were smooth and cool on his paw pads. Rocket got a strange feeling deep inside. The ship was altogether creepy. Maybe it wasn't the ship at all, he thought. It could have been that everyone of the agents wore black leather armor and helmets. The group known as the Deadlights weren't just a society, they may very well be a cult. Rocket decided that he would just see how this all played out for now, but as soon as the punch bowl came out, he was gone.
Rocket nursed his wrist, holding it tightly to his body. There was no doubt that it was broken. It had been worth it, he deemed, punching the smug bitch in her face. One of the males from before, Agent 4, Rocket assumed, clicked his staff against the floor. A light resonated through the floor in the form of a blue line, then it turned sharply to left. A wall panel opened into a larger room. Rocket was a little unnerved that he couldn't tell where the doors were, or even where he was in conjunction to the hanger. Nothing was marked. There didn't even seem to be any control pads for the doors.
Agents 4 and 5 turned sharply and led Rocket into the large room. There were a total of ten flat table like beds, five each on either wall. Each bed had computer devices above and to the side of them. Along the center of the room was a long counter top cluttered with different electronic devices and examination tools. Underneath the counter top were a long line of cabinets that opened on both sides. To Rocket's left were a row of lockers, black in color and pristine. Next to the lockers was a door, Rocket thought that it might be a bathroom. On the far wall next to the “bathroom” door was another door, again with no inscription. It didn't take long for Rocket to figure out he was in some sort of sick bay.
Agent 5 spoke this time, it was obviously him because his voice was deeper. “Strip down to your underwear and sit on bed one, a physician will be with you shortly.”
“Sorry 5. but I don't wear undies. I'm a free swinger. Should I strip down to the sac?” Rocket fluttered his eyelashes, his mouth bent in a goofy smile.
Both agents chuckled in unison, which sounded funny with the robotic undertone from the helmets. It had been the first human thing they had done since he'd come aboard, Rocket joined them in a playful chuckle. It was also the first time he'd noticed that they were only a foot and half taller than he was. They also had large leather clad tails. That's when it dawned on him, that they may be the same race as Agent 19. They abruptly stopped laughing and straightened back up. Another creepy feeling was washing through Rocket.
Agent 4 turned and walked to one of the lockers, his movements mechanical and soldier-like in nature. Whoever they worked for must have been very strict with the agents. That or the punishment was more severe than it had to be. Agent 4 came back with plain white hospital gown and laid it at the foot of bed one, before rejoining Agent 5.
“Be sure to take everything out of your pocket, because you won't be getting your clothes back.” Agent 5 took a few steps to the right and grabbed a black plastic tote, dropping it on the bed next to the hospital gown. “Put your things in the tote and we'll take them to your room.”
Rocket was skeptical at first, but decided that he was already in too deep to back out now. Being exceedingly careful with his wrist, he slipped out of his poncho, wadding it up and tossing it into the tote. After that he slipped the double barrel atomizer off of his back letting it clatter to the floor. Agent 4 was nice enough to scoop it up and put it into the tote. Agent 5 stepped in and pulled the blaster free from the holster on the right side. He held it out to Rocket, as a show of faith. Rocket smiled, taking the blaster and tossing it into the tote, followed by the other one.
The door on the far side of the room opened. Agent 19 clacked into the room, her boots hitting evenly, heel to toe. Just as everything else in the ship, she was pristine. New helmet and clean leather armor shimmered in the overhead florescence. Agents 4 and 5 straightened up and saluted her.
Rocket didn't regard her presence at all, he leaned down and unclasped the holster straps around his thighs. He unbuckled his belt and caught it before it fell to the floor. It was heavy from the ammo clips in the pouch at the back. Just like everything else he discarded it, into the tote. It was already filling up. He bent down and unfastened the strap on his dagger sheath at his leg. Dagger was too lacking of a word for it, it was more like a short sword in Rocket's small hands. It was an odd device that Drax had given to him. It gave new meaning to concealed weapon. The dagger was made from nano technology, it would collapse into the hilt and when you flicked the switch it would make a solid blade, that was guaranteed to stay sharp forever. Rocket had never used it before, but was looking forward to trying it out. Rocket dropped the sheath and dagger into the tote.
“Agent 19, Rocket Raccoon is arming down and preparing to be visited by the physician. We have everything covered here.” Agent 5 stated. Agent 19 gave a heavy nod.
“The physician is on his way. When Rocket is complete, you will take his stuff to his room.” Agent 19 spoke, her voice was colder than Rocket remembered.
“Yes ma'am, orders came down from Agent 0. He's informed us, of what we should do.” Agent 5 stated.
There was a long pause. “So be it!”
Agent 19 seemed frustrated, which made Rocket smile. Any suffering she was enduring made him happy. It was a childish way to be, but he was a childish raccoonoid at times. For the most part, Rocket was ignoring the military spectacle unfolding before him. Carefully he undid the clip on his wrist communicator and threw it in the tote. Rocket pulled his shirt off slowly, making sure to favor his wrist. Once off he balled it up and tossed it in with the rest of this stuff. There was a hesitation now as he leaned down, trying to manipulate the right pocket on his thigh, his hand hurting too much.
Agent 5 stepped forward, and he halted as soon as he felt a hand gripping his shoulder. When he turned around, he was face to face with Agent 19. Agent 5 nodded and stepped back to stand next to Agent 4, who remained quiet the whole time- Obviously he was a lower rank, or just didn't care enough to get involved. Agent 19 bent down and opened the pocket, pulling out a pipe pouch. A very familiar one, she smiled inside of her helmet, away from Rocket's prying eyes. As she stood back up, she held the item out to Rocket.
“Thank you.” Rocket said softly, feeling foolishly uncomfortable as he took the pouch and lightly set it down in the tote.
Agent 19 picked the pouch up handing it back to Rocket. “You keep this. I know you'll feel safer if it's on you.” There was a warmth in her voice despite the robotic sound.
“Thank you.” Rocket said again, this time it was more sincere than before.
Rocket undid his pants and pushed them down around his ankles before kicking them up into the air, so he could catch them. He rolled them up and tossed them into the impossibly full tote. Rocket cleared his throat and stood before the Agents, naked as a jaybird. The discomfort was palpable, Agents 4 and 5 took it as their cue to leave the room. Agent 5 grabbed the tote and they both filed out into the hallway, leaving Rocket and Agent 19 alone in the room.
“Staying for the show, 19?” Rocket teased, a smirk coming to his lips as he set his pipe pouch on the bed.
Agent 19 cleared her throat and crossed her hands in front of her. “No, I just want to be here to oversee your recovery. Dr. Adams is very good at what he does.”
Rocket sighed and unfolded the gown throwing it over him. It was easily three times his size and swallowed him up. He didn't care though, at least he was covered now. Rocket climbed up on the bed and looked down at his feet. Agent 19 shifted her weight to one leg, but said nothing. The silence of the room was eerie.
The door at the far side of the room popped open and a heavyset humanoid of unknown origin stepped into the room. Rocket cocked his head and watched the man fumble clumsily across the room. He couldn't help but crack a smile at the scene playing out. The man looked kind of like comedian Jerry Lewis back on Earth. Skin of a sickly faded yellow color, once black hair had streaks of gray running from his sideburns. Vintage Earth attire lay under a clean white lab coat. The oddest of things the man was wearing was red visor headset that looked like a pair of Steampunk goggles. It covered his eyes and his ears, the lenses of the goggles were made of the same opaque material as the eye pieces in the helmets. Rocket was starting to see a pattern, everyone aboard was either wearing helmets or visors. He couldn't help but wonder why.
“Agent 8, glad you could make it.” Agent 19 chastised.
“Dr. Adams, man, you know I don't dig that Agent crap you guys are always talking about.” Dr. Adams screeched to a haul in front of Rocket who was perched on the table. “Whoa! What the hell are you?”
Agent 19 didn't wait for Rocket to speak. “HE! Is Rocket, and you will give him your respect, Agent 8.” Her voice was frustrated again.
Dr. Adams turned his attention to the much shorter Agent 19. “Wait a minute Agent 19, when you're in my sick bay, I am the superior officer. If you want to chastise me, you have to wait until I'm in the hall or somewhere else.” He turned his chubby humanoid face back to Rocket. “Sorry lil dude, no one told me what to expect when I got here.”
“No problem, it happens all the time to be honest.” Rocket scratched his side casually.
“Yeah, they just told me to bring these kid size shorts with me to sick bay.” Dr. Adams tossed the shorts down to Rocket. “Here you go, cover up your nuts and bolts, man. You can call me Dr. Adams as everyone should and does when I'm in the sick bay!”
Rocket cackled absurdly, more because of Dr. Adams putting Agent 19 in her place than the joke he made. “I like this guy. He's funny.” Rocket shimmied into the tight elasta-fabric shorts, they were snug but comfortable.
Dr. Adams rose the table up to his waist, so he could see things better. “Alright lil dude, what seems to be the problem?” Dr. Adams pulled a pair of rubber gloves over his oddly inhuman fingers, instead of four fingers and a thumb, he only had three fingers and a thumb.
Agent 19 glared daggers at Dr. Adams. “He had a fractured wrist. Agent 0 wants you to do a Class 1 treatment on just his right arm up to the elbow.”
“Oh man, that is tits. It's such a simple procedure. Can't wait to get this done.” Dr. Adams walked over to the center counter and dug through the draw.
When he came back, he was carrying a metal surgeons tray with two items on it. One was a small metal, cylindrical item about the size of a cigarette. The other was a clear looking band aid with a round black spot in the middle of it. Dr. Adams set the tray down at the foot of the bed and cleared his throat.
“Alright you furry bastard, lay back. I gotta strap you in.” Dr. Adams chuckled playfully.
“Dr. Adams! What did I tell you about respecting him?” Agent 19 grumbled loudly.
“He doesn't mind at all, do you 'lil dude?” Dr. Adams felt around the edge of the bed slowly, an energy restraint crossed over Rocket's upper arms and chest pinning him down.
“If it pisses her off, I'm all about it.” Rocket looked up at her with a wide mouth grin.
Agent 19 growled, her voice was low as if she were trying to say it under her breath. “Childish!”
“What was that?” Dr. Adams said through a chuckle, his words barely heard of Rocket's cackling.
“Nothing, can we get this over with in a timely manner.” Agent 19 voice was a forced even tone as she was fighting to keep her composure.
“Alright Rocket, you're going to have to trust me with this. I'm going to have to make an incision in your hand before I introduce the nanomites into your system.” Dr. Adams explained as he was looking over the back of Rocket's hand.
“Nanomites! That's pretty extreme, don't you think?” Rocket tried sitting up, but felt the energy restraints tighten.
“Nah, man, if you're going to be a part of the Deadlights Society, then you'll eventually have nanomites inserted throughout your body. Think of it as instant super powers.” Dr. Adams reached over and picked up the smooth cylindrical object.
Rocket growled. “Flark that, I didn't sign up for this.”
Agent 19 reached up and touched his face softly. “Calm down Rocket, if you feel so strongly about it, then we won't implant them throughout your body. Unfortunately we need you active right now. We can't wait until your hand heals. You'll have to accept this procedure.”
Rocket glared at her masked face. “Alright, I'll agree to that. But after it's done you have to take off your goddamned helmet.”
“Fair enough!” Agent 19 snapped back, appalled by this childish display.
Dr. Adams aimed at Rocket's wrist with the strange cylindrical device before pressing the button on the side. A red laser beam shot out and sliced a half inch cut in Rocket's wrist. Before any blood could pool in the wound, Dr. Adams slapped a clear bandage over the hole and stepped back. Agent 19 also took a step back, both of their eyes locked on him. Rocket felt a lump appear in his throat. What was going to happen to him that made them back up?
There was a crunch and then a crackle, and searing pain running up and down his arm at high velocity. Rocket looked down at his hand and stared as his finger broke, twisted, disintegrated, and then reformed back into the shape of his hand all in a matter of seconds. There was a screaming in his ears as he watched in horror. Just like that the pain was gone, there wasn't even a residual pain. The only thing that remained was the loud screaming in his ears, and then he realized that it was him screaming. He stopped and swallowed hard before looking from Agent 19 to Dr. Adams.
“A little flarking warning would have been nice, you assholes.” Rocket screamed at them again, feeling his heart pound in his throat.
“Alright! Seems like it was a success. How do you feel, raccoon dude?” Dr. Adams said nonchalantly, as he stepped up beside the bed retrieving the metal surgeons tray.
“I think you're going to have to wash the bed, other than that... my wrist feels great.” Rocket was shivering hard from shock.
“Well, you came through it was flying colors. Usually people pass out and then shit themselves.” Dr. Adams joked as he turned off the energy restraining belt, lowering the bed back down.
“I can't guarantee I didn't shit myself.” Rocket sat up and hopped down on the ground.
“All free and clear up here, dude. Not only did you pass with flying colors, but you passed without leaving the color brown.” Dr. Adams stated as he knelt down on the ground in front of Rocket.
Rocket rolled his wrist around, amazed at how tight and responsive it was. “I hope I get a cookie for being a good boy.” He pulled the clear plastic band aid off amazed that the hole was gone.
“You don't need a cookie, you got something better right there. Now 'lil dude, lets see how your new hand is holding up. I want you to punch this metal tray as hard as you can.” Dr. Adams braced himself against the ground and held out the medal surgery tray.
“Are you nuts? That'll break my wrist again.” Rocket snapped back as he looked down at his hand and flexed it.
“No Rocky, you gotta trust me here buddy. Give it a good whack.” Dr. Adams braced himself again.
“You guys are flarking loonies, you know that?” Rocket stepped up closer taking a classic boxer stance.
Agent 19 leaned over the table, watching closely. Rocket focused, took a deep breath, his gaze focusing on the spiral metal pattered that went from the center of the tray out to the raised lip. Dr. Adams gave him a reassuring nod from over the top of the tray. That was it, Rocket launched a stiff right jab with all of his might. The punch hit the dead center of the tray and ripped through it. The sharp metal shredding his hand, throwing blood, fur, and fleshy bits into Dr. Adams face. Yet Rocket didn't feel a thing. No pain, no aftershock. Dr. Adams dropped the tray, and furiously wiped his face off with his lab coat. Rocket pulled his hand back through the hole, feeling a gentle snag here, a tear there. After a moment of hesitation, he decided to see the damage to his hand. What he saw raised the hair on the back of his neck. The blood had already stopped, the bones were being resent and the open gashes on his hand were slowly closing up.
“Well flark me, no wonder why you were able to get up after I hit you.” Rocket snapped a look at her.
“Nah man, she doesn't have those things in here. Her body rejected them, straight up burned them and absorbed them. It was flarking awesome.” Dr. Adams excitedly rambled out, as if it were a secret that no one was suppose to know.
“That's enough Agent 8.” Again her voice was cold. “My nano technology is in my suit, it's special made for me. There is one of this same make back in your room.” Her red visor gaze fell upon him.
“How soon can you put the rest of these things in me?” Rocket leaned back against the bed still looking at his hand.
Again Agent 19 was smiling to herself. “I'm glad you opted for the nanomites, they're much better than the suits. You can expect to have the surgery done as soon as we rendezvous with the Mothership. It should be in the next few days.”
“Fantastic! Now it's your turn. You have to live up to your part of the deal. Take that helmet off.” Rocket reached up and grabbed his pipe pouch with his left hand, not wanting to take any chances he might crush it with his super hand.
There was a long hesitation before she finally spoke. “Later, in a more private setting. For now Dr. Adams, will you kindly show him to his quarters for me. Do give him the run down of our facilities. I have to report our current situation to Agent 0. If you will excuse me.”
Rocket and Dr. Adams watched as she crossed the room double time, and disappeared through the door. “What a pain in the ass, did you see how she deliberately broke her promise?”
“First of all, man, no one get to see her face except for the boss man.” Dr. Adams started for the door, Rocket in close tow.
“Who is the boss?” Rocket asked hurrying his steps, one and a half steps to every one of Dr. Adams.
“No one knows, we just call him Boss, or Agent 0. The only thing I've ever been able to decipher from is that Agent 0 is Agent 19's father.” Dr. Adams walked down the hall.
“So what you're saying is she's like a princess, or a millionaire's daughter. All the reward without the risk. That's why she wouldn't show me her face. Didn't think she had too.” Dr Adams stopping so abruptly that Rocket bumped into the back of his leg. “Signal before you do that, damn it!” Rocket rubbed his muzzle.
Dr. Adams ran his fingers slowly along the smooth black wall, a set of doors slid open into a square black metal room. “No one gets to see her face except her dad, I just told you that. The fact that she agreed to show you is an honor man, and she'll keep that promise. But she sure as hell ain't going to do it in front of a flunky like me.”
The pair climbed into the tiny room, Dr. Adams again felt around the wall and the small room started going down. “As for her being a Princess, that's not true either. No one works harder than Agent 19. Her dad always has her running around, doing stuff for the Deadlights Society.”
Rocket didn't say anything, he just nodded slowly. He was starting to wonder if it had always been part of a plan. Maybe she hadn't had a choice in the matter after all. Her falling in love with him couldn't have been part of a plan. Agent 19, not Silas, had fallen in love with him. He could tell. Perhaps she deserved another chance... besides, pretty much all the cards were on the table. There was only one card left to flip over. Who was she? Agent 19 promised to reveal her identity to him. If she did that, then he would would forgive her, maybe even give her a second chance.
“You feeling alright man? I was talking to you and you were all glazed over.” Dr. Adams interrupted his thought process.
“Oh yeah, just a touch of vertigo from the elevator ride is all. You were saying?” Rocket looked up at him, the elevator slowed to a stop.
The doors slid open and Dr. Adams walked out into the hall, Rocket fighting to keep up. “I was just saying, when we get to your room, there will be a total of three outfits for you. One will be your lounge clothing, for everyday use. The second your standard issue uniform. The third will be your armor. If you're going to be on the upper levels you have to have your uniform or your armor on. Make sure you get dressed first, before you put your headset on.” Dr. Adams rounded a corner too tight, his shoulder hitting the wall solidly, but he recovered instantly and kept walking.
“What about weapons, can I use those?” Rocket asked, trying to stifle a chuckle at watching the doctor almost biff it.
“You may outfit yourself with any weapons you see fit, they're not anal about that. You must have your headset or helmet on at all times, even when you're lounging. It's one of the cardinal rules. You're allowed thirty minutes a day to take it off. In that time, you're expected to shower and shave. Not that you have to worry about the shaving part.” Dr. Adams chuckled, his crooked teeth showing through his smile.
“Or the shower part, am I right?” Rocket jabbed back, his chuckle was more of a cackle.
Dr. Adams started to laugh and then stopped abruptly. “Eww man, no you have to shower. We're in a confined place. I'm pretty sure there's a rule in place for that.”
Rocket stopped walking for a moment and stared at him. “It was a joke, man, come on. I'm a sentient being, not an animal.”
Dr. Adams didn't respond, he continued moving down the hall. “Sorry, I just got notified that someone is waiting for me in the sick bay. I want to help you get to your room though before I head back.”
“That cool, if you want we can run the rest of the way. It looks like you could use the exercise.” Rocket smirked up at him.
“Very funny, dick. But no, I don't want to run. I'm just trying to make sure I didn't forget to tell you anything. Oh yes, there is one more bit of information. When you put your headset on, there's a tutorial mode that will help set it up. The set up process is rough though, don't try to absorb too much. Once it's configured to you, it will be easier on you. And no one else can use it. I know it sounds complicated, but it is easy once you start doing it.” Dr. Adams stopped abruptly again, panting heavily from rushing all the way down the hall.
Rocket watched his hands closely and realized that the doctor was pushing invisible buttons. Things were starting to come together. The visors, helmets, and headsets allowed the Agents to activate parts of the ships. It was an ingenious way to keep pirates from accessing the systems, or in case of a mutiny. Whoever this Agent 0 was, he knew his stuff, and seemed be loaded. Maybe after all the danger is put to bed, Rocket could request a large reward. With that thought, the door in front of him slid open onto a beautifully decorated room.
“Welcome to your new home, man. The boss wanted you to have the best, and there it is.” Dr. Adams said in a cheery voice. Rocket walked passed him into the room.
If this was a sign of the perks that came with the job, then he thought he could definitely get used to it, hazards and all. Dr. Adams bid Rocket a farewell, before turning on his heels and heading back the way they had come. The door closed behind Rocket, leaving him to contemplate his new surrounding. His new home.
