Clad in Steel

by Kevin McLaughlin

  His words cut through Owen’s intentions like a knife. His hand dropped away from the control, and he stared back at the Naga. This time it wasn’t anger filling him, but instead a sense of resolve. If Garul wanted to get angry over what he said, so be it. “I killed the Naga who shot them.”

  Garul seemed surprised but not angry. “You did, yourself?”

  “Yes. I wounded him with my father’s weapon, then finished him with his own,” Owen said. The memories came pouring back again, but this time they felt less intense than before. He was able to ride them until they settled down again.

  “Impressive for a hatchling without training,” Garul said.

  “I have training!” Owen replied.

  “You do now. Did you then?” Garul asked. When Owen didn’t answer, he went on. “I thought not. So, impressive.”

  Owen was confused. He expected Garul to be angry at him for killing another Naga, but instead it sounded like he’d won some sort of weird respect. He knew the Naga had a warrior culture where fighting well was crucial to success, but the idea that extended beyond their own species hadn’t occurred to him.

  “You’re not mad?” Owen asked.

  “Why be mad? Was war. We were foes,” Garul said. “Now we are allies, which is better for all, I think. War is war, young one. Humans killed Naga. Naga killed humans. Now we fight side by side, so we all survive.”

  At first, Owen wanted to protest what Garul was saying. The old anger flared up. His parents hadn’t been combatants. They’d been helpless civilians, gunned down. His vengeance for their death was justice. That was what he’d told himself ever since, anyway.

  But then he thought back to the day. His father, holding the pistol in both hands while the Naga slowly rose from his crumpled cockpit. Evan McInness had fired the first shot, knocking the alien down. The Naga survived and returned fire. That wasn’t slaughter. Garul was right: it was war.

  He felt confused. If that was the case, then much of what he’d felt and thought since then didn’t make sense anymore. “I need to think about this some more.”

  “Do. Thinking is good,” Garul said. He leaned against a wall and slowly slid down it onto his haunches.

  “Are you OK?” Owen asked. He was surprised how much concern he felt for someone he’d always considered an enemy.

  “Yes,” the Naga said. He patted his side, where a bandage was stained red with his blood. “Is healing. Humans are not the only ones who have medical nanites. I will be well again soon. But the healing saps strength.”

  Chatter over the radio yanked Owen’s attention away from the Naga. Was that weapons fire? He turned up the volume so he could hear better. The communication was scratchy, passing over more distance than earlier. That meant Pahwel had reached the engines, or come close. Owen heard orders being shouted, gunfire, and then screaming.

  The screams chilled him. That wasn’t a scream of fear or even terror. That was the cry of someone in extreme pain. The rest of his unit was engaged out there, and the enemy was giving at least as good as they got. Owen tried to listen in more carefully, to pick out individual words.

  Finally, he heard Mateo’s voice clear as a bell. “Pahwel is down. Everyone with me! Pull back into…”

  After that, the signal broke up into static again. Owen fiddled with his controls, wishing they would come back to life. He’d stripped this Armor down to its bare bones, but the ones they’d had back in training didn’t have whatever shutdown trigger Captain Pahwel had used on his suit. Or if they did, it was buried in their code rather than being a specific device. He didn’t know how to wake the Armor back up.

  Even if he could, he was one person. They had the full force of his squad out there, reinforced by a bunch of Naga. How much difference would one more person make?

  “This is going badly?” Garul asked.

  How did he know? Had he heard the radio messages somehow? “Yes. I can’t make out everything, but our guys are retreating somewhere.”

  Garul growled something under his breath in Naga. He pulled a device from his side and tapped it a few times. It didn’t want to cooperate at first, but after a few hard shakes it lit up. A display appeared in the air above the device. It was schematics of the ship.

  “There!” Garul said. He pointed at a set of dots that were aft of the main engine room. “That’s your people. They are not in a good place.”

  “How can you be sure that’s them?” Owen asked.

  “They are all giving off radio signals. Naga do not. ‘Bugs’ do not. Has to be Humans,” Garul said. He shook his head. “They should not be there.”

  “Why not?” Owen asked.

  Garul took a few steps toward him so that he could better see the display. The dots all seemed to be in some kind of tube laying right between the main drives. That must be where they’d retreated to. The Bugs must have cut them off from returning to the ship.

  “This is plasma vent,” Garul said, pointing at the spot with all the dots. “Allows excess heat from the engines to bleed out into heat transfer vanes. But all Bugs have to do is turn on engines…”

  “And they’ll cook everyone in there,” Owen said. The Armor wouldn’t protect them against something like that! “Can they turn the engines on from there?”

  Garul shook his head. “Only from the bridge.”

  That was a relief. The bridge was still secure. The Naga had managed to hold that point against all attacks. If they could keep it up, then his people were safe. At least for the moment. But that didn’t solve the problem; it just delayed things.

  Garul pulled the bandage from his side and examined the wound beneath. He nodded, seeming satisfied, and yanked it the rest of the way off. The other Naga barked something at him, but Garul silenced him with a stare. Then he picked up a rifle and went to the ramp. He tapped the controls on the side and it lowered, opening the Lynx back up.

  “What are you doing?” Owen asked.

  Garul turned back to him. “They have engines. Now they will swarm the bridge, then your people will die. Best chance is they have left few guards on engines. If I kill them, free your people, might still save my ship.”

  He was going to go take on an unknown number of Bugs in the engine room — by himself? That wasn’t courage, it was suicide! Owen opened his mouth to tell him so but instead found himself saying something else. “Not alone, you aren’t.”

  “Your Armor does not work, does it?” Garul asked.

  “No,” Owen said. He climbed free from the harness holding him in place and jumped clear of his Armor, landing on the deck. “But that doesn’t mean I’m useless.”

  Garul narrowed his eyes. “Is not a game, young one.”

  “I know,” Owen replied.

  The Naga hesitated, and Owen wondered if Garul was going to allow him to come or not. His palms were slick with sweat, and he wiped them on his uniform to dry them off. This was crazy. It was utter insanity. But he couldn’t let this damned fool Naga go off and try this all by himself.

  Garul tossed him the rifle. Owen caught it.

  “You know how to use?” Garul asked.

  Owen slid the butt end of the weapon against his shoulder and readied it, just as he had that day in Miami. It was the same weapon he’d used to kill a Naga. Now he was going to use one to help a Naga. Could this day get any stranger?

  “Yup,” Owen said.

  Garul chuckled. “Good. Use this setting.”

  He stepped closer to Owen, who tensed. He’d never been so close to an alien before. Garul’s teeth and claws looked much more threatening at this range, but he held firm. Garul twisted a knob on the top of the rifle, dialing it all the way to the right.

  “Was idea from Beth. Smart Human. Incorporated it into all Naga weapons. Will now fire tiny ball, very hard, very fast. Punch through even Bug armor,” Garul said.

  “Thanks,” Owen replied. He wondered what setting it had been on before.

  “Thank me after,” Garul said, picking up another weapon. “Now we go
into battle.”

  Twenty-Two

  The pair all but raced down the corridor, Owen following as close behind Garul as he could. The Naga knew these halls like the back of his hand, but Owen would be lost immediately without him. They’d avoided the central passage that Pahwel had used, instead taking a ribbon of back routes. Owen assumed that was to avoid running into a horde of Bugs busy making their way up toward the bridge. He swallowed hard at the idea of running into one of them in the close confines of the smaller passageways.

  It wasn’t precisely dark, but the halls weren’t well-lit by human standards. Instead this part of the Naga ship was in a sort of half-gloom, with light cast from sources Owen couldn’t see. The decks all looked the same to him. He wasn’t sure how Garul was navigating and assumed he had to have simply memorized the entire layout of the place.

  They remained silent as they jogged through the ship. Somewhere along the line, Garul had picked up Human hand signals. He would raise a clawed fist to tell Owen to freeze in place from time to time, then they would move on again. Just how much did the Naga know about humanity, anyway? Garul seemed to have a lot more information about him than Owen did about the Naga.

  Garul made the motion to freeze, again. Then he leaned in close to Owen’s ear. Fear and anger tried to surge back up. Having those teeth so close to his face left Owen torn between flight and fight, and he struggled to remain calm.

  The Naga appeared to take no notice of his discomfort. “We are close. The engine room is over there.”

  Owen looked where he pointed, to a large set of double-doors. They were closed. There was no way to see what waited for them on the other side, and as soon as they opened the doors, they’d be seen. “Now what?”

  “Now we go sneaky way,” Garul said, showing all his teeth.

  Instead of heading toward the doors, Garul led Owen down a side passage. It terminated at a vent. Garul stopped there and reached out toward the vent with his claws.

  “Wait. We’re seriously going to sneak in through the ducts?” Owen asked.

  “Ducks?” Garul replied. “Is bird, yes?”

  “No, ducts. Vents. Passage for air,” Owen replied.

  “Yes, air tube. All through ship. Not first time they have been used like this. Your people did it, too,” Garul said. “Now we do.”

  The Naga yanked hard, and the vent came away with the sound of squealing metal. Owen whirled in place, aiming his rifle down in the direction they’d come from. If any of the Bugs had heard that noise, they were about to be in trouble.

  But no swarm of space-centipedes came storming down after them. The closed door was working for them in this, he realized. They couldn’t see into the engine room, but it also made it difficult for the Bugs to hear what happened outside them.

  “Come,” Garul said. The Naga had already lifted himself into the tube. He slid forward a bit to give Owen room to climb in.

  Owen slipped inside, almost cracking his head on the entry point. Once he was in, the Naga gently guided him to one side while he pulled the vent back into place. It was still loose in its housing, so they could kick it back out quickly in a pinch. Owen made a note of that, just in case they had to come running back out the same way they’d gone in.

  “Ready?” Garul asked.

  “As I’ll ever be,” Owen replied.

  The Naga chuckled, a sound Owen was finally growing accustomed to hearing. It wasn’t like a human laugh. The Naga sound was more guttural, like it was coming from the back of the throat. But the very fact that Naga, like Humans, had laughter implied they had so much more in common than Owen would have believed possible. They were from different star systems, but they were not so very different.

  Garul pushed on, placing his feet carefully on the duct floor so as not to sound echoes. But he moved swiftly at the same time, working his way toward the engines. After traveling about thirty meters, Owen figured they had to be over the engine room. They hadn’t run into enemies, but that didn’t mean much. The ducts were even gloomier than the hallways. It would be easy for a Bug to hide out, waiting for them. The thought made him shiver.

  He bumped into Garul; the Naga had stopped in place. Garul held a finger to his lips for quiet. Then he went to another vent and tested it. Whatever he’d hoped for, he hadn’t gotten it, because the Naga shook his head with frustration. Then he took two steps back, twisted a dial on his rifle, and fired it straight into the vent.

  The rifle fired with a sharp crack of sound. A ball of energy shot from its muzzle and smashed the vent open. It dropped to the floor outside with a clang. Garul was already moving ahead before the echoes stopped. He was out of the hole where the vent had been and moving, rifle up and at the ready. Owen followed, desperate not to be left behind. He wasn’t as quick as the Naga, but he managed to keep up.

  They were in the corner of a large room, but it wasn’t open space. Instead the whole place was filled with a variety of machinery. Owen couldn’t tell what most of it did, but he figured this had to be the engine room Garul had talked about. He stalked forward, the Naga rifle at his shoulder. Nothing moved.

  Then he saw them.

  At first, Owen thought they were just more Naga machines, but soon he was able to spot the two large lumps as what they really were — Armor units. Or they had been, anyway. One lay on its back, unmoving. He couldn’t tell what was wrong with that one. The other was much more obvious, having been shredded apart, steel plates pried back like someone had opened the suit like a can. Judging by the amount of blood, the pilot hadn’t survived.

  That was two of the Armor units from his squad, but where were the others? Owen looked around but couldn’t see them.

  Garul stepped away from him, crossing the room to the far side. “Naga dead here. Also a Kkiktchikut. They at least took down one of the hated enemies with them.”

  “One Kkiktchikut over here, too,” Owen said. He understood the satisfaction Garul felt in his peoples’ death not being in vain. But it looked like the Bugs had gotten the better end of this fight.

  A glint of light as something moved near the corner caught Owen’s eye. He turned, the rifle already on his shoulder, and fired as soon as he saw what was coming his way. It was a Bug — a Kkiktchikut — but seeing one face to face was nothing like the simulations. It was enormous, its silver armor glistening as it slipped past lights on its rush toward him. Those deadly legs gleamed and seemed to almost sparkle. Any one of those legs could cut him in half in under a second. Without his Armor, Owen had no real protection against this foe.

  His round slammed into the Bug, slowing it down. Owen dove off to one side, ducking behind a large machine to avoid its attack. It simply reared up over the obstacle. He looked up and saw its jaws open wide, mandibles snapping. Then one of those terrible jaws snapped off. Blood sprayed from the Bug’s mouth, spattering down around him. It turned toward the new threat. Garul’s weapon whined and snapped a second time, slamming into the Bug. It chittered and rushed toward him.

  He fired a third time. This shot took it down.

  But there was no time to rest. Owen saw more movement behind Garul. Another Bug had been waiting among the steel bars on the ceiling. It dropped almost silently, then dashed forward to impale the Naga from behind. Owen raised his rifle and aimed it directly at Garul. The Naga’s eyes widened. Owen wasn’t sure if Garul realized what he was doing or thought he’d lost it and was going to kill him, but there wasn’t time to explain.

  “Duck!” Owen shouted.

  Garul hit the deck. Owen fired a split-second later. The Naga rifle bucked in his hands as it spat a tiny pellet of energy downrange toward his target. The projectile slammed into the Bug’s head, blasting it backward. It chittered distress. Owen advanced on it and fired as soon as his weapon had charge again. Garul’s shot joined his. Together, their guns took it down.

  Owen sagged to the floor, panting. The whole fight took just seconds, but he felt like he’d run a marathon. He kept the rifle up and aimed outward, unsure i
f more attackers waited for them. “Was that all of them?”

  “I think so,” Garul replied. “But no way to be sure. Stay on your guard. We need to get your people out of the plasma tube.”

  The others! With the Bugs trying to break into the bridge, his teammates might be fried at any moment. “Where are they?”

  “Follow me,” Garul said. He led the way to a huge hatch in the rear wall of the room. He tapped a control console beside it, then hesitated.

  “What’s wrong?” Owen asked.

  “I’m just hoping they don’t shoot us as soon as the door opens,” Garul said.

  “Oh! Yeah. Hang on,” Owen said. He still had a portable radio. He tapped it on. “This is McInness, can anyone hear me?”

  “Mac? Where are you? We’re pinned down,” Mateo replied.

  He’d survived! Owen was glad the plucky tech had managed to stay alive. “Actually, you’re not. I’m just outside the door. You can come out now.”

  “What?” Mateo asked. “You’d better not be screwing with us.”

  “I’m not,” Owen said. He nodded to Garul, who entered the final commands to open the hatch. It slid up into the wall.

  Inside were six very nervous looking Naga, and four Armor units. They were all packed into a space far too small for the lot of them. But every single one had their guns trained outward toward the door.

  “Holy shit, it really is you,” Mateo said over their radio link. “How did you deal with all the Bugs?”

  “I didn’t,” Owen replied. “They only left two behind. The rest went to take the bridge. We need to stop them. Where’s Captain Pahwel?”

  Mateo didn’t respond at first. Owen waited, then asked again. “Captain Pahwel? Where is he?”

  “Over there,” Mateo said. “He died in the first strike. A Bug punched right through the chest of his Armor and killed him instantly. I’m in charge of the squad, now.”

  “God help us all,” Kowal added.

  “Hey, we’re still alive!” Mateo replied defensively.

  Kowal laughed. “Hiding in the ship’s exhaust pipe, but sure. No, you did fine, Sergeant. Good as anyone could have.”