by Robert Brumm
Lanmer gritted his teeth. Hekfun was a good man, one of his best. Suddenly, the who, why, and where involving the escape or release of Specimen Six no longer mattered. That would be dealt with later. For now, the only thing that concerned him was a quick and hopefully painful death of the creature by his hands.
He grabbed one of the assault rifles with the least amount of blood splattered on it from Hekfun’s demise. He opened the ammunition cabinet and reached for several magazines of the deadliest cartridges aboard the ship. Down on RZ-237, the load out for the landing party was tranq rounds only, but Lanmer was not interested in sedating the creature. He slammed the magazine of armor-piercing fragmentation shells into the rifle and locked a round into the chamber.
The pounding and frantic screams coming from the other side of the bridge door finally ceased. Commander Fahlew jabbed a finger at camera twelve. “That man just retrieved a weapon from the rack. Artemis, I gave the command to lock down the weapons stores. Confirm!”
A moment ticked by as Artemis processed the response. “The command to secure weapons stores was processed, however a malfunction has been detected in the locking mechanism servos. Would you like me to perform a diagnostic, Mr. Fahlew?”
“Who was that man?” Captain Sekwee leaned closer as the figure darted out of the picture. “Lanmer?”
“It may have been. I could not tell.”
Artemis interjected. “Would you like me to perform a diagnos—”
“Of course not!” Fahlew roared.
“Calm yourself, my friend,” Sekwee said. “One man with a weapon does not spell disaster. Artemis, take all interior lighting off line, with exception of the bridge.”
Artemis obeyed and all the video feeds went dark. The security cameras were not equipped for low or no light visibility and the captain and commander lost their god-like view of the ship.
“We won’t be able to see, but neither will that man with the weapon,” Sekwee assured him. “I have a feeling it won’t slow down Specimen Six in the slightest.”
Lanmer turned the corner, his rifle tight against his shoulder, one eye looking through the optical sight. He jammed the muzzle into an alarmed Senior Medical Officer Maylew’s chest. Any harder and Lanmer might have accidentally pulled the trigger. Maylew shrieked in surprise and clamped his hand over his mouth.
“Lanmer, thank goodness,” he whispered.
“Where is it? Have you seen it?”
Maylew gulped and shook his head. “I heard something scamper by not too long ago out here in the passageway. I couldn’t stand another moment hiding in the medical bay.”
Lanmer nodded and brought the rifle back up to a firing position. “Stay close and watch behind me. If you even think you hear or see anything, shout out. This thing is fast.”
Maylew grasped the back of Lanmer’s flight suit and matched him step for step, panting on the back of his neck. “Where is the captain?” he whispered. “And why is Artemis not responding to my commands?”
Lanmer barely got a shushing sound past his lips to quiet the doctor, when the lights shut off and plunged them into darkness. Maylew shrieked in Lanmer’s ear. He slammed the doctor up against the bulkhead. “Get yourself together, man,” he hissed. “You are going to get us both killed!”
“Yes, yes. I’m sorry.” The doctor searched for something in his uniform. “Wait, I think I have…yes, here it is.” Maylew clicked on a small torch he used to inspect the men’s various orifices during examinations. It was weak but better than nothing.
“Good work, Mr. Maylew.” Lanmer patted him on the shoulder. “This will be a great help.” He took the torch and held it with his left hand along with the rifle grip. He raised the weapon and the small light illuminated the corridor anywhere he aimed.
They continued forward, both men becoming aware of how quiet the vessel had grown. Besides the low hum from the particle engines, they heard no other voices. No screams, no cries for help. Both men feared they were the last survivors but neither wanted to admit it.
They turned the corner and Lanmer paused as a soft clucking sound came from farther down the hall. They caught a glimpse of movement at the end of the corridor; Lanmer adjusted the aim of the rifle and the weak beam of the torch revealed Specimen Six.
The clucking sound grew louder as its mandibles clicked back and forth. It hunkered down slightly and squealed. Lanmer knew from experience, when they cornered the beast on RZ-237, that it was about to attack.
He opened fire with a short five-round burst. The powerful fragmentation rounds filled the confined area of the corridor with deafening sound. The brilliant muzzle flash blinded both men. The rifle bucked hard against Lanmer’s shoulder and the torch slipped from his fingers.
“Did you hit it?” Maylew screamed in his ear. Before Lanmer could admit he had no idea, the general alarm sounded, accompanied by flashing red warning lights in the ceiling.
“Warning,” Artemis announced. Both men jumped at the sudden sound of the ship’s AI voice. For some reason it was more jarring than the alarm. “Reactor core damage to particle engine number two. Cooling system is offline. Automatic shutdown of particle engine number two has failed. Catastrophic failure is imminent.”
“Blast!” Lanmer cursed.
“What is happening?” Maylew grasped the back of Lanmer's flight suit even tighter.
Lanmer couldn’t believe his own stupidity. The engine room was directly behind the bulkhead at the end of the corridor. Even if he did manage to hit Specimen Six, they were now in even more danger. The armor-piercing rounds he had chosen in haste had done exactly what they were designed to do. They sliced through the bulkhead and damaged the reactor in the next room.
“Cooling system is offline,” Artemis reminded them. “Catastrophic failure is imminent.”
Lanmer was no engineer, but he was familiar enough with particle engines to know they overheated quickly with no cooling system. If they couldn’t get it back online, the Artemis would soon be reduced to a cloud of dust after a very violent and magnificent explosion.
“Artemis,” the captain said, “bring up all interior lights and shut down particle engine number two.”
“My apologies, Mr. Sekwee. Particle engine number two has sustained significant damage and my commands for shutdown are having no effect. I recommend a manual shutdown immediately.”
“It’s as simple as throwing a lever, Captain.” Commander Fahlew rose from his seat. “I know exactly where it’s located.”
“No. You have the bridge. I can take care of this.” Fahlew started to object but Sekwee cut him off. “The Artemis is my ship and I am responsible for starting this mad chain of events.”
Commander Fahlew solemnly nodded and addressed Artemis, not taking his eyes off the captain. “Artemis, release the sedative compound into the ventilation system.” He handed the captain his emergency flight helmet. “If you move quickly, this should filter the gas long enough for you to get back to the safety of the bridge.”
“My apologies, Mr. Fahlew,” Artemis said. “My command to release the sedative compound appears to be having no effect as well. I suspect the damage to the reactor core has crippled most systems of the ship, including life support and climate controls. Would you like me to run a full diagnostic?”
“Mr. Sekwee, I must insist,” Fahlew pleaded. “For all we know, Specimen Six is still at large and without the sedative it’s much too dangerous. Allow me to go in your stead.”
Sekwee pointed to the flight chair. “Sit, Commander. That is a direct order.” He placed the flight helmet on the seat of his own chair and removed his emergency service pistol from the underside of the control panel.
“Artemis, are the hatch controls still online?”
“Yes, Mr. Sekwee. They appear to have been undamaged in the accident.”
“Open the bridge hatch and lock it behind me. Allow nothing in or out except the commander and myself.” Artemis acknowledged and the door slid open.
“I’ll be b
ack soon, my friend,” he told Fahlew without looking back. He ducked out of the bridge and crept down the corridor, his pistol at the ready. The normal hum of the particle engines took on a louder and more desperate tone, sending vibrations through the deck under his feet. The general alarm continued to wail. Artemis reminded what was left of the crew of the imminent catastrophic failure once again.
The captain held his breath and gripped the pistol tighter around every corner. He finally reached the engine room and entered to find himself staring down the barrel of an assault rifle.
Lanmer continued to train his rifle at the Sekwee’s face. Senior Medical Officer Maylew stood behind Lanmer and looked properly relieved to see the captain. Sekwee lowered his pistol and after a moment, Lanmer lowered his weapon as well.
Sekwee forced a smile. “Thank goodness you men are all right. Quickly, we need to shut down engine number two.”
Lanmer nodded and pointed his rifle into the corridor. “Go ahead, Mr. Sekwee. I’ll cover the door.”
Sekwee tucked his pistol into the pocket of his flight suit and weaved through the tight maze of conduits and machinery of the stifling hot engine room. He passed a section of the bulkhead cut to ribbons from Lanmer’s weapon and tried to squeeze though two sections of pipe before turning back. The heat from the reactor core was becoming unbearable and it was impossible to reach the manual override switch on the opposite side of the room. Artemis declared yet another warning but Sekwee couldn’t understand it over the hissing release valves and warning claxon.
He turned back and climbed up the ladder, reaching the narrow catwalk above the engines. The heat was even more unbearable close to the ceiling but he held his breath and sprinted across the catwalk to the other side of the room. He skidded to a stop on the slick flooring and slammed up against the guardrail, causing his pistol to slip from his pocket and tumble over the edge. It landed below, wedged in between two narrow banks of wiring blocks.
Sekwee hurried down the ladder and finally reached the bank of manual levers. He yanked the shutdown lever for particle engine two and exhaled in relief as it spooled down. The reactor core was still dangerously hot, but the chance of catastrophic failure lessened as every micron passed and it was allowed to cool.
He made his way through the narrow openings toward the door and stopped at a tool cabinet along the bulkhead. Sliding open the drawers and rummaging through the tools, he chose a large spanner and slipped it into the sleeve of his flight suit.
Sekwee returned to the engine room entrance. Maylew looked relived to see him. Lanmer still pointed the weapon out into the corridor. “Mr. Sekwee, Specimen Six has escaped and killed most of the men, I fear.”
Sekwee wiped the sweat from his forehead and tried to catch his breath. “Yes, I know. It nearly attacked me in the passageway. Quickly, let’s get to the bridge where it is safe and we can assess the situation. Lead the way, Lanmer. I’ll take the rear.”
The three men walked the corridor toward the bridge. Sekwee glanced over his shoulder, convinced Specimen Six was about to round the corner and attack. “Quickly, men,” he whispered. They turned a corner, the safety of the bridge beckoning them with the hatch at the end of the hallway.
Captain Sekwee slowed his pace and allowed a wider gap between him and Maylew. He slipped the spanner from his sleeve and struck the doctor in the back of the head. Maylew cried out and tumbled to the deck. Lanmer spun around and lifted his arm by reflex, blocking the captain’s next blow effectively but painfully as steel met bone. Sekwee dropped the spanner and tried to wrestle the rifle out of Lanmer’s hands.
The two men struggled and tripped over Maylew’s unconscious body on the deck, sending them both tumbling. Both lost grip of the rifle and it slid out of reach, just in time for Specimen Six to come around the corner.
Lanmer and Sekwee both froze as it observed them. Its long and rat like tail twitched back and forth – the tip grazing both walls on either side of it. It crouched lower and spread its legs out, the stubby hooves of its back legs and the razor-sharp claws of its front legs making a racket on the metallic deck.
Specimen Six was covered with gore from slaughtering the rest of the crew. Dark and congealed blood oozed off the tip of its beak and mandibles. It’s barbed front appendage and crustacean-like claw were covered in a stinking medley of blood, bile, feces, and brain matter.
Captain Sekwee made the mistake of making the first move. He scrambled to his feet and Specimen Six pounced, clearing the distance between itself and the men in a blink of an eye. It landed on Sekwee and slammed him to the deck. Sekwee managed a quick scream before it disemboweled him with one swift movement of the tip of its beak, then sliced open the front of his chest cavity with its barb. Specimen Six grabbed the captain’s ribcage and pulled it apart, the ribs snapping like twigs.
Lanmer jumped to his feet, grabbed the rifle in one hand and the back of Maylew’s flight suit with the other. He dragged the moaning doctor down the corridor. Specimen Six squealed behind them.
Lanmer reached the hatch to the bridge and slammed his open palm into the manual door release. Nothing happened. “Artemis, open bridge hatch. Now!” The door didn’t budge; Artemis continued to ignore him. Maylew slowly got to his feet, groaning in pain and holding the back of his head.
Lanmer spun around and aimed the rifle at Specimen Six, still butchering the captain’s remains. This time, he switched the rifle to single shot mode and squeezed the trigger. Sweat dripped into Lanmer’s eye, causing him to twitch, which affected his aim. The rifle barked and missed its mark, hitting the deck directly in front of Specimen Six and showering it with bullet shrapnel. It squealed in pain yet received no fatal injury. It spun around and scrambled down the hallway away from Lanmer. He managed to get off another shot, before Specimen Six turned the corner, but missed again.
Lanmer cursed and aimed the rifle at the door release mechanism. “Stand back,” he shouted at Maylew and fired.
Sparks flew and the hatch opened. Lanmer grabbed Maylew and pushed him onto the bridge, right into a confused Commander Fahlew, knocking both men to the floor. Lanmer ducked inside and pulled the manual door switch, locking them safely inside.
The rifle muzzle pushed painfully into Commander Fahlew’s cheek. “Captain Sekwee just paid for his treachery in blood. Tell me, Mr. Fahlew. Where do your loyalties lie?”
The commander gurgled out a non-response.
“What say you?” Fahlew roared.
“My loyalty lies with the Federates and the Artemis, Mr. Lanmer,” he said. “You have my word. We were all betrayed by the captain. I have no doubt he would have turned on me as well, once he no longer needed me.”
Before Lanmer could decide whether or not to trust the commander, Artemis’s AI chimed in with more bad news. “Warning. Particle engine one losing power. Ninety percent and falling. Life support systems offline.”
“What?” Fahlew sat upright, forgetting the rifle pointing at him. “Artemis, damage report. What is the reason for particle one losing power?”
“Stand by, Mr. Fahlew.”
Lanmer lowered his weapon and took a step back, allowing the commander to take a seat at the helm. Maylew, looking woozy, sat down in the captain’s seat.
“It appears the overheating reactor core has damaged particle engine one as well. Eighty-five percent and falling.”
“What is happening?” Maylew asked.
“Life support draws power from the particle engines,” the commander explained. “If they both go offline, the Artemis will be subzero with little air to breath before the cycle is over.”
“Is there a Federate port or friendly planet in the system where we can land for repairs?” Lanmer asked.
Fahlew scanned the map in front of him before shaking his head. “No charted planets, no.”
“Seventy-five percent and falling.”
“This looks promising.” Fahlew pointed to a spot on the chart. “There’s a system within range if we have enough power for one ju
mp. There,” he tapped the dot on the display with his finger. “Third planet from the system’s star. It’s an oblate spheroid, consists mainly of iron, oxygen, and silicon. The atmosphere is a little too nitrogen rich for our liking but we should be able to breath. Surface temperature is also acceptable.”
“Fifty-five percent and falling.”
“Artemis,” said the commander. “Execute stage seven jump on my mark. Coordinates locked and confirmed.”
“FTL engine spooled and online, Mr. Fahlew. Awaiting your command.”
Fahlew looked over to Maylew in the chair next to him and then over his shoulder at Lanmer. “Artemis. Make the jump.”
The ship lurched and the display of the space in front of the ship melted into a blur of shifted stars and solar dust. They barely had time to catch their breath before the Artemis ripped out of hyperspace to reveal a bright blue planet filling the entire view of the bridge’s display. A new round of warning lights and alarms filled the cabin.
“Particle engine under five percent. Initiating controlled shutdown of ship’s power,” Artemis reported.
“Strap in and put on that emergency flight helmet, Maylew.” Fahlew commanded. “Lanmer, try to hold on to something. We will be coming in very hard and fast.” He put on his own helmet and prepared to perform a crash landing on the planet below.
****
It slowly crept from its hiding place in the dark recesses of the ship after patiently waiting. Since the crash, the vessel had been dark and silent. It stood in the doorway and deeply sniffed the still air in the corridor. All it detected were the signatures of the recent kills, no live prey. This was disappointing of course, but the bounty from the hunt was plentiful and the creatures that held it captive were no longer a danger.
