Battlecruiser Alamo: Malware Blues

by Richard Tongue

   All Salazar could do was press on, trudging through the mud until reaching the blessed relief of the corridor. There was no time to pause, and no point even closing the door, a false security that would do them no good. Twenty-eight people had waded into the corridor, and only twelve were leaving it, the rest fated to remain there forever.

   “Keep moving,” Salazar said. “Lombardo, get going.”

   Nodding, he started to stagger forward, his hand clamped over his leg, and Salazar saw that the renegade technician was leaving a trail of blood behind him, still determinedly pressing on trying to keep a steady pace. None of the creatures emerged as they turned the first corner, presumably enjoying their feast.

   Salazar gasped under the load of the casualty he was carrying, finally having a chance to see that it was Ryder over his shoulder, her breath unsteady, a low moan from her lips as her painkillers started to wore off. Half a dozen of the survivors were wounded to one degree or another, and only a pair of pistols were in evidence.

   “Three turns,” Lombardo gasped, “Then a long corridor, and we’re at the lock. That’s ours, not under the control of the base systems. We installed it when we arrived. Hopefully we’ll be safe once we get that far.”

   “Unless they can tear through metal with those claws,” Ortega said. She’d abandoned the stretcher, and was now carrying her casualty in a fireman’s lift, staggering under the load.

   “Don’t be crazy, Spaceman,” Salazar said.

   “Right now, I’d believe anything,” the technician replied.

   “Just believe that we’re going to get out of here.”

   The group forced its way around the next turn, another howl echoing from behind them as they went. Wounded as they were, they couldn’t go any faster. Lombardo was slowing down, dropping back from the lead, determination in the drips of sweat on his forehead as he staggered through the pain.

   Looking behind, Salazar said, “We’re not going to make it like this. I need a volunteer.”

   “For what?” Ortega asked.

   “I’m going to try and decoy those bastards for as long as I can. Give you a chance to reach the lock. It might be lonely work, and some company would be useful.”

   “I’m with you,” Fox said, without a second’s hesitation.

   “Let me go. You’ve got a kid,” Lombardo said.

   “And you can hardly walk,” Fox replied. “Let them remember me as a hero, not a traitor.”

   Nodding, Salazar said, “You can serve with me any time, Spaceman. Get going, Lombardo. Someone else can take Ryder.” Fitzroy nodded, carefully taking his erstwhile commander and holding her up, already trudging off towards the exit.

   “Here,” the petty officer said, tossing him a pistol. “Two rounds in the chamber. Enough for emergencies.”

   “Thanks. Good luck.” Turning to Fox, he gestured back along the corridor, and said, “With me.”

   “Coming.” Fox looked back for a brief second, then followed Salazar as he charged back towards the sound of the howl, determination defeating hesitation as he followed him into battle, a combat knife flashing into his hand.

   While the wounded party fled down the corridor, the two of them retraced all too familiar steps, following the trail of blood and muck that they’d left behind them. Another howl sounded, and fear flashed into his soul, a desperate desire to run, to escape. Clutching his pistol like a lucky charm, Salazar pressed on, and saw the flash of a tentacle at the end of the corridor, just in sight.

   “This way!” he said, turning left, heading in as random a direction as he could manage, Fox easily keeping pace. “Spaceman, if you can run faster, do it. I don’t care who takes point. All that matters is that one of us gets clear.”

   “If you fall, sir, I’ll keep going. Otherwise I stick with you.”

   Shaking his head, Salazar struggled to set a faster pace, panting as he tried to keep up a sprint. With a muddy hand, he wiped the sweat from his forehead, the howls from the rear urging him on. He could hear the creature charging down the corridor, racing towards him, and idly wondered if it was intelligent enough to seek revenge for the death of its comrades.

   Turning a corner, he felt his feet catch a trailing cable, and tumbled to the ground, the pistol clattering out of his reach. He turned, twisting himself into the tangle, and reached down to try and free himself, the beast racing towards him.

   “Get out of here!” Salazar yelled, but Fox snatched the pistol from the floor, knelt down on one knee, and fired a shot into the eye of the creature, bringing it down. As Salazar struggled free, he looked at Fox, the young man’s eyes darting between the barrel of the gun and the body of the monster behind them.

   “I did it,” he said, dazed. “I didn’t think, I just did it.”

   “We can worry about the after-action report later,” Salazar said. “We’ve got to keep moving.” Rising to his feet, he resumed his random path down the corridor, another howl sounding, this time more distant. Fox turned to follow, easily catching him in a dozen fast strides.

   “With luck, Lombardo and the others will be at the lock by now,” he said. “How well do you know the layout of this place?”

   “I did a few rounds of guard duty. Not that well. I might be able to get us there.”

   “If your memory is better than you think, we might just live through this. Take the lead.”

   Nodding, Fox pressed forward, racing down the corridor, his eyes darting about as he tried to find landmarks. Salazar concentrated on the rear, looking for any sign of pursuit. A pair of distant howls resounded along the walls, but they didn’t seem to be any nearer.

   “This way, I think,” Fox said, pointing at another door. “An unused dome, then a corridor, left-right-left-left beyond.”

   “Got it.”

   Opening the door, Fox stepped over the threshold, cautiously watching for an ambush. Salazar followed, hurrying across the room. If they ran into another creature, all they’d be able to do was choose which one of them would die first. Speed was the only weapon they had that might save them.

   The two of them sprinted across the sand, their destination a door at the far end. Another howl, this one nearer, urged them on, but Salazar was struggling, a stitch in his side, trying to keep up with the faster Fox, who slowed his pace when he saw he was drawing ahead.

   “I told you…,” Salazar began.

   “I’m already up on charges of treason. I don’t think insubordination will make it worse.”

   They reached the door, then turned to see a creature bursting in after them, eating up the sand in slow, loping strides. The submarine lock was just a few hundred meters away, but he knew that they would never make it. Fox turned to fire, taking his shot, as Salazar worked the door, but the bullet harmlessly bounced off the creature’s carapace.

   “Go, sir,” Fox said.

   “Not a chance,” Salazar replied, grabbing his collar and tugging him on. They ran through the door, side by side, the creature gaining pace with every stride. In seconds, it would be on them, and only one of them even had a knife to defend himself with.

   “What’s through there?” Salazar asked, pointing at an open door.”

   “Barracks,” Fox breathlessly replied. “Stores.”

   “Quick,” Salazar said, racing through the door, looking around. He tipped a bunk on its side, pushing it towards the door, grinning as he saw it nicely block it. Fox raced over to another one, and the two of them pushed it on top, forming a barrier that the creature crashed into, the tentacles writhing around as it tried to pull it free. The two of them pulled back, and after a second, the creature pushed back.

   “Is there another exit?” the exhausted Salazar asked.

   “Just one way in,” Fox replied.

   Nodding, Salazar said, “I think we’re safe for the moment.”

   As a chorus of howls sounded from outside, the two of them returned
to holding the barricade in place, Fox said, “Not much longer, though.”

  Chapter 20

   As the shuttle dropped to the sand, Cooper stepped back into the rear cabin, pulling his plasma rifle from the charging station and hefting it in his hand. Gurung was standing at the airlock hatch, Arquos, a Neander who had already proven himself a crack shot, behind him. The doors slid open, both at once, and the Espatiers charged out onto the beach, heading towards the other shuttles, a quarter-mile distant.

   Bobbing up and down on the water, he saw what had to be the submarine, a body lying sprawled on the deck. A nightmarish howl resounded from behind him, and he turned to see a tentacled creature charging him, if anything worse than the descriptions Salazar had given them. Before he could give an order, Gurung leveled his stabilized pistol at the beast, dropping it with a single armor-piercing round.

   “I thought I ordered plasma weapons only,” Cooper said.

   “After the first,” the Sergeant replied with a shrug. “I thought the science team might want to take a look at one.”

   Pulling out his communicator, Cooper said, “Shuttles Two and Three, anything else up here?”

   “Shuttle Two, Manning here. I took one out with my landing jets when we came down. Aside from that, we’ve only seen the one you killed.”

   “Might be more out there, boss,” Hunt said. “It’s a long coastline.”

   “We ought to keep our force together,” Gurung said. “They can’t get through the shuttles, and the pilots can warn us if there’s anything waiting for us when we come back to the surface.”

   “Agreed.” Gesturing at the submarine, he said, “Think you can manage it?”

   “Watch me,” he replied, tossing his rifle to the nearest trooper and sprinting for the lake, jumping in and swimming towards the vessel. The rest of the squad chased after him to the water’s edge, plasma rifles at the ready in case the creatures turned out to be amphibious, all of them waiting for the first sign of trouble. Gurung charged through the waves, hacking at the water as he closed the distance to the submarine, finally pulling himself up onto the deck.

   Throwing open a hatch, he disappeared down into the ship, and all was quiet. Cooper waited for a moment, then pulled out his communicator.

   “Cooper to Gurung, come in.” After another minute, he replied, “Cooper to Gurung, reply at once.”

   There was a loud cry, and Cooper glanced across at Hunt, lowering his rifle to the ground. He looked at the water, but before he could put his long-forgotten swimming skills to the test, the communicator crackled into life.

   “Found someone on board who didn’t want me to borrow this tub,” Gurung said. “If there are any sharks down here, they’ll get a good feed tonight. There should be a gangplank around there somewhere. I’ll bring her in. Passenger compartment is empty and ready for you.”

   “Thanks, Sergeant, and good work.”

   “This must be it,” Nash said, gesturing at a long strip of hull metal dumped in the sand. She walked over, and gestured for Rhodes to help her, the two of them lifting it up and carrying it to the water’s edge.

   As the submarine motored towards them, Cooper looked around the underground cavern, shaking his head. It was a beautiful haven, a bright light shining from the far side, an artificial sun that bathed down with its warmth, fresh, sweet air, a refreshing breeze, and a salty tang from the crashing waves.

   “Lovely spot for a battle,” Hunt said.

   “We always do pick the best ones, Corporal.”

   The submarine turned, drawing close, and Nash carefully spun the gangplank around, dropping it into position by the open hatch. Cautiously, Cooper led the way, careful not to look down at the water as he navigated the wobbling strip of metal, sighing with relief when he stepped down onto the deck.

   “Get over here on the double,” he said, waving at the others, before climbing down the ladder into the passenger compartment, taking a seat on the cold, hard benches at the bottom. The rest of the squad followed him, the last of them tugging the hatch closed, pushing the wheel around a few times to secure it.

   “A bit primitive, sir,” Hunt said, dropping down next to him.

   “Hold on, everyone,” Gurung said, his voice booming over the wall-mounted speakers. “I think I know how this works, but it could be a bumpy ride.”

   With a loud gurgling, the submarine began its descent, rocking back and forth as it vanished beneath the waves. The hull began to creak, Cooper glancing around, half-expecting it to cave in at any moment. Peering out through one of the portholes, he saw the light grow dimmer as they dived, the ship drifting back and forth on the current.

   “It’s amazing,” Medodkis said, his eyes filled with awe as he looked out at the view. “I never knew this much water existed. The biggest lake on Thule is a puddle compared to this.”

   “One of the perks of the job, Specialist,” Cooper replied. “We do get to see the sights.”

   “Something over there,” Nash said, pointing. “Looks like some sort of dome. I guess we’ve found Salazar’s base.”

   “I just hope we’re in time. Tactical deployment, people, as soon as we dock. You know what the creatures look like now, so no excuse. Shoot at anything with more than four limbs. Medics on standby for the wounded, so I want Medodkis and Jackson at the rear.”

   “I see the docking port,” Gurung said. “Damn it all, there’s no way for me to get back to you. Just one hatch.”

   “We need you to drive us home, Sergeant. You’re the only one who can work this thing.”

   “Everyone’s taking a course in this when we get back to the ship. You hear me back there?” He paused, then said, “Stand by for hard-dock. And I mean hard, there’s a strong current. Hang on.”

   With a loud crash, the submarine slammed into the lock, the clamps sliding into place, securing them in position. Before they could make a move, the wheel on the hatch began to rotate, and the squad raised the guns to cover it. The hatch dropped down, and a familiar face looked in, a smile spreading across her face.

   “Ortega?” Cooper asked.

   “We need help,” she replied. “We’ve got a lot of wounded up here.”

   “Medodkis, you come with me. We’ll start bringing down the casualties.” Cooper climbed up the ladder, Ortega moving back to let him up, and looked around the cramped, dank shuttle lock. Nine people were packed into space sized for three, most of them with the signs of a recent battle. There was a body on the floor, one he vaguely recognized, a man weeping over the corpse. After a second, he identified her in his mind. Ryder. Puncture wounds to the leg and chest. Even Alamo’s sickbay would have struggled to save her.

   “Ensign?” a man asked, his voice weak, iron in his eyes. “We left two behind.”

   “They’re dead,” Ortega said. “They must be.”

   “Sub-Lieutenant Salazar. He’s out there, somewhere, with Spaceman Fox. You’ve got to go and get them.”

   “Damn it, he didn’t have a chance,” Ortega replied, tears streaming down her face. “They gave their lives to save us. All of that is for nothing if we don’t get away.”

   The wounded man tried to stagger to his feet, saying, “Give me one of those plasma rifles, and I’ll go back for them myself. Alone, if that is what it takes.”

   “That won’t be necessary,” Cooper said.

   “Don’t you understand, I should have been the one to go back. I didn’t deserve…”

   “Easy,” Cooper replied. “I’ll go and take a look.”

   “Request permission to go along, sir,” Medodkis asked.

   “Thanks, Specialist, but you’ve got a lot of work to do here.”

   “Besides,” Hunt said, “I outrank you.”

   “Stewart?” Cooper yelled down the hatch.

   “Yes, sir?” the lance-corporal replied.

   “Take command here. Get the survivors down into the
cabin, then post someone up here on lookout. If we’re not back in ten minutes, or you hear any sign of one of those creatures heading this way, get out of here.”

   “Aye, sir. If you aren’t back in ten minutes, come looking.”

   “Damn it, Stewart, this isn’t a time for heroics. If we don’t make it back in ten minutes, then we aren’t coming back at all. Understand?”

   With a sigh, he said, “Aye, sir. Acknowledged.”

   Clapping the man on the shoulder, seeing the Petty Officer’s flash on his uniform, Cooper said, “If he’s out there, we’ll get him.”

   “Thanks, sir,” the man said, his eyes closing, unconsciousness claiming him. Nash climbed up the ladder, plasma rifle at the ready, and looked at the two frowning faces of her superiors.

   “I’m faster than either of you, and I’m a better shot than Hunt, sir,” she said.

   “Can’t argue with that,” Hunt replied.

   Shaking his head, Cooper said, “Fine, take point, Private.” Raising his voice, he added, “Three idiots risking their necks is more than enough. The rest of you wait here.” Looking at Hunt, he nodded, and the trooper cracked the outer lock, stepping into the bare corridor, alert for any sign of life.

   Cooper followed, doubling down the corridor, rapidly reaching a crossroads. Hunt looked at him, shaking his head. The place was a maze, and ten minutes was far too little a time for any sort of search.

   “That way,” he said, gesturing to the right. Hunt looked dubiously down the corridor, but shrugged. Salazar had a one in three chance of getting through this, assuming he was still alive at all. As they turned around a bend, a wild, desperate howl echoed around the walls, freezing them in their tracks, plasma rifles rising to their ready position, the three of them lined up. The noise of scurrying feet rattled the floor, and the trio raced forward, towards the noise, turning around another bend.

   “Look there,” Hunt said. “Blood on the floor. This might be the right track.”