When last we left Commander Reed and Mr. Schultz, they were not seeing eye to eye, but rather plasma cannon to eye...
"Any last words?", Reed asked menacingly.
Schultz took a deep breath, "I hereby relieve you of your duties, Space Fleet regulation twenty eight point..."
Reed began applying pressure to the trigger, relishing the resistance in its pull, as though the weapon itself were reluctant to commit this heinous deed.
"Drop your weapon, Commander.", came the familiar voice of Sgt. Stauch from somewhere behind him.
Reed whirled, firing blindly in the direction of the voice. Stauch dove behind Reed's imitation, leopard skin love seat, narrowly avoiding the blast. Spinning back around to finish off his Huckster
nemesis, Reed was astonished to find that Schultz had not retreated, but rather advanced, arms outstretched and fingers splayed.
Recognizing the paralyzing "Huckster Face Grab", the Commander threw himself to the ground, rolling, his back coming up hard against a large oak chair. Where the hell did that come from, he wondered distractedly
as he began to lift his arm in an effort to dispatch Schultz once and for all.
A booted foot slammed down on his wrist, pinning it to the ground, and forcing Reed to relinquish his grasp on the weapon. Snarling, Reed looked up to find the business end of an M-19 Vorpal assault rifle
looming inches from his face.
"Enough Commander.", Stauch said in low tones from the other end of the weapon.
"Stauch", Reed growled, "you traitor. I'll see you hung for this insolent act."
"Hung", the sergeant asked darkly, "or demoted to sergeant?"
Intent on Reed's crazed eyes, Stauch was did not see the strange, twisting motion of Reed's free hand. Nor did he note the dagger that fell into the Commander's had once he'd triggered the release mechanism
on his wrist sheath. Reed brought his arm up in a swift motion revealing the six inch blade to Stauch's surprise and horror.
Howling with insane fury, Reed prepared to plunge the dagger deeply into the commando sergeant's very being.
