by Mark Tufo
“It will fall away and everything in this section of the ship will be sucked out into space because of the depressurization. Including us.”
“What if we’re in the ship?” I asked.
“I like that idea better.”
“Come on, before those Devastators get too far.”
“There will likely be crew onboard.”
“Good. I will consider them partial recompense for Tantor,” I said as I began to sprint down toward the ship. I was slowed somewhat as I either skirted or jumped over bodies but I still beat Dee, which I considered a victory all on its own. I’d no sooner bridged the docking gap than I opened fire. The Progerian officer checking the seal wasn’t wearing the armor so I guess he never figured to get in the fray. Two Genogerians came up on my left—where the hell they came from I didn’t know. Why I wasn’t cut in half instantaneously I was to find out momentarily.
Dee was directly behind me and had once again saved my life. At this rate he was going to start charging me interest. The Genos to my side began speaking loudly, their rifles trained on me. I was pretty sure I heard Dee’s name in his native tongue. He was now speaking rapidly back to them. I just stood and watched. I was convinced that to make any movement would make my life forfeit. There was more shouting—although really they could have been reciting poems—it all sounded like swears. Out of the corner of my eye I was thinking that possibly their rifles were coming down a bit. So instead of having my brains liquefied they’d just lop off my head neatly at the shoulders, not a vast improvement.
“Dee?” I breathed quietly.
“Do you not see me talking here?”
I suppressed a laugh. He sounded so much like my mom when as a youth I would interrupt her while she was on the phone.
“Something is funny here, Michael?”
“You can tell? Oh that’s right. You’re the human whisperer. Sorry, just now you sounded like my mom a bit. What’s going on?”
“They know who I am. I have told them of you and what has happened on this world and the Julipion. They are deciding if they wish to become part of the resistance.”
“If they decide against it?”
“You will not feel a thing.”
“You suck, Dee.”
We got our answer soon enough when their rifles once again raised up, but not for me.
Another Progerian came from the cockpit but he did not have a weapon in hand. His eyes widened when he saw us, hostility becoming the dominant feature when he saw the betrayal from his own guards. I watched as one of the Geno’s large knuckles whitened on the trigger. I didn’t know if this was going to cost me my forearm but the Prog was a pilot and I was going to need him. I placed my hand over the end of the Geno’s rifle. I shook my head, but who is to say that’s a universal symbol of negation? I might have just told him his mother sleeps with goats and I photographed it. I think I got my point across when he looked down at me much the same way Dee does, as if to say, “What is wrong with you?” and come to think of it, it’s a lot like Tracy looks at me. I felt like a fucking elf looking up at all those tree stalks. It was like talking to Ents. (Those are basically tree-like guardians of Middle earth forests for all of you who are not Tolkien fans.)
The Progerian pilot garbled his undistinguishable language to me and everyone else.
“Ask the asshole if there is anyone else on board,” I said to Dee.
Dee spoke their native tongue.
“He will not talk to me,” Dee replied.
The pilot’s mouth dropped open as I pointed my rifle at his skull. “How about now?”
Dee spoke again, the pilot replied this time. “He seems much more affable now, Michael.”
“I figured he’d warm up.”
“He says there is no one else worthy on board now that you killed his co-pilot and his guards have gone insane.”
“Tell him I’m real sorry about that. Actually hold that thought, he’ll think I’m serious and I’m not going through that whole thing about teaching him sarcasm. Tell him to get in his seat and move this bucket.”
I waited a moment for the exchange and the inevitable denial. I didn’t even wait to hear Dee’s response to me before I clipped the officer’s side. The round sizzled into the panel behind him, doing a considerable amount of damage to the electronics beneath it. He hissed in rage and pain. The Genos behind me winced almost as loudly. I didn’t know if it was in commiseration with their previous leader or chagrin that they had not been able to dole out the punishment.
“Let my new friend know the next round is going in his stomach and I’ll take my chances flying this thing.”
Dee paused to look at me. “Really?” he asked.
I shrugged. “Sure, why not?” I can’t be certain because the alien language sounded like German spoken underwater while gargling sharp rocks but I’d swear I heard Dee say, “For the love of all that is holy please don’t let this human fly this ship” or something akin to that. Whatever it was the pilot immediately changed his earlier stance and got back into the cockpit with us close behind.
There was a heavy whirring sound as the Breacher door shut and then a loud popping sound as if someone had opened up the largest soda can in the world. We pulled away quickly, debris rocketing out of the gaping hole in the Guardian. I watched as dead Devastators were pulled out, then I was horrified when it was our own dead being sucked into the abyss. I had a sort of sick satisfaction as I watched the soon to be dead Devastators do everything in their power to not be sucked out into the vacuum of space.
“It will not get them all,” Dee said as he sat in the now vacated co-pilot seat.
“Will the remaining ones quit fighting now that their ship is gone?”
“Perhaps. Should I have this pilot dock in our bay?”
I was a hair’s breath away from telling him yes. “No, have him go to the Battle Cruiser.”
Dee turned to look at me. “Michael, I had truly hoped that you had found a new level of sarcasm but I can see by your facial features you mean the truth. Your pheromones indicate high levels of anxiety and excitement, which I find to be a very confusing mixture—it should be one or the other but not both. Excitement leading to conflict is generally reserved for sociopaths.”
“Looks like I forgot to take my meds today.”
“What do you propose we do when we get there?”
“I’ve always wanted to add a Battle Cruiser to my collection.”
“If insanity has an odor I do believe I am smelling it for the first time.” Dee turned back towards the front.
Chapter Four - Paul
The bridge’s attention was rapt on the battle in corridor C-47.
“They are in trouble,” Iserwan said as his hands tightly gripped the edges of his chair.
Paul watched in horror as Mike’s position was soon to be overrun. “Get out of there you fool,” he said as he stood.
Beth’s hands were over her mouth. Shots flew around wildly, the camera feed flickering and going black.
“What happened?” Paul demanded.
“A junction box was destroyed. I am trying to reroute the connection now,” a technician replied.
“Iserwan, we need to send more troops down there!” Paul yelled.
“It is not that I wish to hold them back, General. It is that I have none to send.”
“Help him....them, Paul!” Beth nearly cried.
“Iserwan! Any personnel that can carry a gun needs to do so, now!” Paul said forcibly.
“We need these men and Genogerians to fly the ship.”
“There will be no ship to fly if we do not stop them!” Paul shot back.
Iserwan was about to issue the command when a vibration and a loud puckering sound reverberated throughout the entire ship. The Guardian minutely canted to the side and then righted itself.
“Hull breach, deck 33!” the damage control officer shouted.
“Again?” Paul asked.
“The Breacher ship has pulled away.”
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“That had to be Mike,” Paul said as he hung his head.
“What? What happened?” Beth begged.
Paul was too lost in his distress to notice how deep Beth’s concern went.
“He knew he’d lost so he must have damaged the Breacher ship so it would detach, knowing that the hull breach would pull everything in the area out into space.” Paul braced his arms on the console in front of him.
“Mike is drifting off into space? You...you have to help him, you need to pick him up.”
“It’s already too late. He died to save us; we can’t let that be for nothing.”
Beth began to openly sob.
“Sir, I’ve picked up the Breacher on radar. It’s under power and flying towards the Battle Cruiser.”
“Target the Breacher,” Iserwan stated.
Paul went over to the panel. “Why, why would they do that?” he asked, perplexed. “Why would they leave their men in a battle they were obviously winning?”
“Target is acquired, sir.”
“Belay that order,” Paul said staring at the machine. “Can we talk to that ship?”
“Not without everyone else hearing us,” Iserwan said.
“That cagey fucking bastard.” Paul beamed.
“Sir?” Iserwan asked.
“The only reason that ship left is because Mike is on it. He knew they’d lost the battle so he commandeered it and had them disengage from our hull in order to kill the invaders. For some reason only he knows he’s headed for the Cruiser.”
“Isn’t it possible they had a malfunction or were possibly recalled for a different purpose?” Iserwan posed. “We have the opportunity to destroy them and I think we should take it.”
“That’s possible, but this just reeks of Mike. Let’s make sure they have safe haven until they get to where they’re going.”
“What if he’s been taken prisoner?” Beth asked.
“Well then that certainly lends credence to not shooting it out of the sky.”
Chapter Five– Mike Journal Entry 03
“We can’t just land in the hangar, Michael.”
“I know, I know, I’m thinking.”
“Perhaps you should think faster.” The hull of the Battle Cruiser was dominating our field of vision.
“Are the Genos trustworthy now?”
“They will fight alongside us if that is what you mean. I only wish they could have perhaps tasted freedom longer.”
“Dee, are you thinking we are going to die?”
“Every day I stay alive around you is a blessing for my Cravaratar.”
“Hilarious. Ask them how many Progs are on the bridge.”
“You mean to breach the bridge?”
“Say that ten times fast. And yes, I think that is exactly what I plan on doing. Seems the easiest, most direct thing.”
The Progerian pilot seemed more stressed out with Dee exiting the cockpit. I happily sat down next to him, wearing the biggest shit-eating grin I could manage without my cheeks hurting too much. He kept glancing over and then quickly looking forward. I probably scared the hell out of him. I’d had an opportunity to get used to the Progs and Genos. Who knows? To him I was probably like a giant, hairy spider to a kid with arachnophobia. I thought about touching his shoulder to see if he would shriek like a little girl, but I had to remember this thing outweighed me by about three times and could rip my arm off with his mouth. He might be scared of me, but how many petrified kids had found the nerve to squish spiders under their feet?
I could hear arguing behind me. Dee and one of the Geno guards came back up.
“He says we cannot attempt to breach the bridge. There are gun emplacements all around it and as soon as we attempted to land they would blow us from the sky.”
“I guess they figured if they could breach hulls so could others. Shit, maybe we should go back to the Guardian.”
“He says there is another way.”
I perked up. “I’m listening.”
Fighters were engaged in battle all around us. The Battle Cruiser and her darker colored fighters were steering clear as were the Guardian’s.
“Paul figured out what’s going on,” I said thankfully.
Dee was looking down at me with a scowl.
“What’s the matter?” I asked, looking up.
“You took my seat.”
“Really? Well, maybe you shouldn’t have gotten up. Fine, you big baby.” I stood, feeling the pilot stiffen as my thigh came in contact with his shoulder.
Dee looked like a kid let loose in Legoland as he sat down. I thought about going back and sitting with the lone Geno guard but he looked hungry and I didn’t see a whole bunch of food on board. Dee began telling the pilot where to go as the other Geno guard standing beside me pointed.
“At what point will they start shooting?” I asked when we slid by the hangar.
“We can only hope they are distracted enough as to not consider us a priority or perhaps they believe us to be returning to the ship after suffering some damage.” As if on cue a volley of incoming something struck the Cruiser on the far side.
“Thank you, Paul.” He had launched the much-needed distraction.
“Agreed,” Dee piped in.
We flew to the bottom of the ship. There were more gun emplacements but they seemed entirely too busy with the fighters whizzing around. The Geno guard tapped his former leader on the shoulder and pointed to where he wanted him to go. The pilot hissed in return. I thought for sure the guard was going to shove the stock of his rifle through the pilot’s skull. Dee diffused the situation, though. I stepped away just in case. I’d be like a baby caught in between two pit bulls if they decided to go at it anyway.
It was a tense moment as the Breacher magnetized itself, or whatever it did, to the hull. Could have been super glue for all I knew. We could hear the torches or lasers I guess, doing their work and then the airlock was secured. I was heading for the door as the Geno guard wrapped an arm around me. For the briefest of moments I thought this was all some sort of ruse and the Earth Champion had finally been corralled. Then I let the egomaniac part of me go when I realized they had not a clue who I was.
Dee rose out of his chair and checked his rifle. “Michael, the depths with which you will go to get yourself harmed are almost limitless.”
“You should see me with power tools,” I retorted. “Could you call off the guard?” I asked, not even bothering to struggle with the iron arm around me. I didn’t want the guard to know just how much stronger he was than me. He might regret his decision to fight with us if I did so.
“Michael, the Genogerians have no idea of what has transpired. If you were the first to walk through that door they would most assuredly kill you. The guard just saved your life.”
“Well, I could have figured that out on my own. (Belatedly, was my internal thought.) Could you please thank him for me.”
Dee did as I requested. The guard let me go and may have nodded at me as he did so. I noticed that he made sure to block my egress though, as if he didn’t quite trust me. Smart Genogerian.
The two Genogerians stood shoulder to shoulder in the opening as I peeked around the lip of the airlock. There were at least a couple of dozen Genos with rifles in the corridor. The truly troubling part was the Devastators peppered among them. The two guards did not seem to be conveying their message clear enough because there was a lot of confusion on the regular Genos’ faces and the Mutes seemed to be getting pissed off at the traitorous talk. That all changed when Dee showed his face.
I had no idea just how famous my friend had become. Almost every Geno, in the corridor, hushed down. I knew, to the word, what Dee was saying about living free, out from under the rule of their oppressive leaders. But to see just how swift a reaction it caused in the warriors was dumb-founding. It was amazing just how close to the surface their rebellion had been—that a few uttered words could sway them from nearly everything they had ever known for their entire lives.
I’d always known that the pen (or in this case - the spoken word) was mightier than the sword but sometimes you just don’t really get to see it in that swift of an action. I guess it didn’t hurt that Genogerians weren’t duplicitous; there was no underlying hidden agenda in Dee’s words. What he said was the truth and they would accept it as that. Anything human leaders said to their populaces was always taken with a grain of salt, and we would always look for what he or she really meant from the words that were spoken. That was something the Genos got right in their evolutionary tract. Although when Mrs. Geno asked if she looked fat in her armor...well that led to its own pitfalls.
The Geno rifles pointing at us were either going down, as they wrestled with this new promise, or up as they celebrated their impending freedom. The Devastators realized when the corner was turned, though, as one of them shot at Dee. The shot went wide and caught the guard in front of me. The heavy bolt cut completely through him and struck the back of the Breacher. The metal peeled back from the hit and I wondered just how many layers were left before the void of space was exposed. I did not want to be extruded through a hole no bigger than my fist. I’d look like human Play-Doh as I drifted off into the darkness.
The second guard was already shooting, with two of his shots striking his companion’s killer. And, just like that, it was on. It looked like pro wrestling in that hallway as pairs, trios and even quads of combatants squared off. There were a few shots taken but for the most part it was all paw-to-paw combat. The Devastators held their own for a bit, but the far superior Geno numbers turned the tide quickly enough. It wasn’t long before the Genogerians were lining up to honor and give praise to Dee. I was completely forgotten in the shuffle, except for the sidelong glance from time to time. I think they thought I was his pet or maybe his personal porter, I’m not sure.
It was the pilot that almost screwed everything up and I guess for good or bad got me noticed. I saw him get up from his chair to see what was happening and then just as quickly head back to his seat when he realized it had not gone as well as he’d hoped. I ran to the front as he was messing with buttons and controls. He was meaning to dislodge from the ship and kill everyone in that corridor. I think it was my shot neatly slicing off the side of his face that dissuaded him from his course of action. He slumped down, the top of his head smacking the wheel, or whatever you call a steering device in a spaceship. The Genos began to look at me like they’d seen me for the first time. Dee would later tell me that he then told them I was the Earth Champion come to liberate them. At the time, I did not know what the hissing and cheering were for.
