"Every Mission a Success"

[Shane 0]

The bionic arm landed on the work bench of the Engineering Lab with a bang after Shane heaved it up with his real hand. He opened a toolkit and preceded to remove the damged hose from its connection ports. The work was slow going with one hand, but Shane had learned to manage over the years. One couldn't always rely on others to help, especially in his previous line of work.

 

The cyborg's thoughts once again wandered to Simon, the famous Minos that everyone had feared. A small sense of satisfaction warmed in the cold-hearted man. For years he had wished for an opportunity for revenge. Revenge for wrongs against former comrades. Against himself. The Orion and Manning had provided the ideal opportunity for fulfillment by putting Shane on the same ship as Minos. Pher had even gone to the point of knocking him out cold on the bridge.

 

Shane picked up a piece of hosing that he had found and sterilized in Engineering. The former chief had kept the place well organized, making the process of locating the standard size relatively easy. He slide one end into the port, feeling it seal, then attached the other. A slight hiss was heard as the air in the tube escaped and the blood circulation began to flow. He flexed the piece of machinery slowly, testing the connections.

 

Pher more than likely suspected him. Shane wouldn't be surprised if she had already contacted the Guardians with a warning. But he wasn't worried. Any video data that the security systems recorded wouldn't reveal much as he had only touched Simon when checking his pulse. With all the scraps and bruises on the small man, the Guardian medics would be hard pressed to locate the millimeter sized slit on Simon's neck, where Shane's device had entered.

 

According to the pre-set timeline, the nano-device had already maneuvered it's way through Simon's bloodstream and settled behind his forehead, where human males have a concentrated iron deposit. That combined with an unique coating would make it unnoticeable to any grade of sensors the Guardians would use. In a weeks time, the device would release an alkaloid-based poison and cause an almost instantaneous death. By then, the Qob will be gone and hard to suspect.

 

Using a damp rag, the cyborg began rubbing some of the dried blood from the metal. The past several days had turned out well. He was still breathing, his arm was repaired, he had a potential job and one more name had been crossed off a long list. They had gone very well indeed.