'Hanniman, this is Smith, prep the ship for launch immediately!' he yelled into a discarded helmet that he had picked up. Phil didn't have time to wonder who it had previously belonged to or what happened to them.
He watched as the man cast it aside in frustration, clearly the comm system must have been blown out by the explosion he had caused. Hanniman had no way of knowing that they were coming, he just hoped that the Engineer had kept the ship primed and ready as Smith had suggested.
A roar cut through the chaos and made Phil's legs simultaneously move much quicker than before and turn to jelly. As a result he collapsed onto the jungle floor yet again, and this time nobody was stopping for him.
Turning his head and fully expecting to be trampled by a horde of pink aliens, he instead sighted something high above the trees.
It was as if someone had pumped an alien full of steroids, and blown it up to ten times the size. The only incongruity with the terrifying features was the strangely shortened trunk that hung limply from its face.
'Arrggghhh!' Phil promptly observed, trying to gather his feet underneath him once more.
'Rarrrrrggggghhh!' responded the beast, though he wasn't quite sure if it had seen him yet and was replying directly to his shout.
Then Annika was there, her flowing locks freed from her helmet and covered in twigs and dust. 'Captain, we have to get back to the ship and away from that thing!'
Phil nodded dumbly as she helped heave him to his feet, he certainly wasn't going to argue with that assessment.
The creature had started hurling trees in all directions and was generally causing rampant destruction. It was a matter of time before it either sighted them and crushed them or inadvertently did so with the debris it was flinging about.
Phil and Annika ran after Smith, there was still no sign of RJ or the Scavanger survivors, they would have to fend for themselves under such conditions.
They rounded a final bend and just as Phil thought he couldn't stagger any further, there was the clearing and the ship, the ramp already open and Smith hurrying up it.
The thrum of the engines signalled Hanniman's priming for take-off, they had made it just in time. What of the others though, could they really take off without them?
He collapsed upon the solid ramp and started crawling his way slowly forward, so long as he could just make the ship then everything would be okay, right?
He turned back and watched the carnage unfold, pink bodies splattered everywhere in piles of strange sticky goo and the thudding footsteps of the giant creature they had seen before. With a shock, he realised that the height of the thing meant he could watch its agonising progress around the bend, as its snarling head and shoulders towered over the treetops. Still there was no sign of RJ and the survivors, had they been eaten or killed already?
Idly Phil thought to himself that RJ and The Survivors sounded like a good name for a Motown group, then dismissed the thought as inappropriate.
To his amazement, the splattered goo had started to solidify and form into the aliens once more. Apparently the beast's errant limbs were not fatal to its kinsmen, though they did look even angrier than before at having been splattered over the jungle. Phil could hazard as guess as to who they were planning on taking that anger out on, and didn't want to stay on this accursed planet much longer to find out.
Though these newly-formed creatures were adamant about getting their revenge for this perceived slight, they kept clear of the lumbering feet of the monstrous beast and instead tried to hem in the path that the thing was taking. It became clear to him now, the large one was definitely chasing something.
Three small figures, one of them sporting a cowboy hat and two others that looked dead on their feet, were making their way toward the ramp that Phil sat upon.
He spoke into the helmet in the most authoritative tone he could muster, in the hopes that those in the cockpit would hear him. 'I've spotted RJ and the survivors, they're being pursued by that... thing. Stall the launch sequence until they're on-board.'
Annika's voice came back. 'Captain, if we stall for them then that big beast is going to make a real mess of our hull, we might not get off the ground at all.'
'You have your orders, Lieutenant. Get Smith back down here to lay some cover fire, we need all the help we can get.'
Faintly he could hear Smith raging in the background at that decision, demanding that Annika belay that order and take off immediately before they were all killed. Annika quite clearly refused him, speaking directly into the comm as she did so. 'No, I'm not going to abandon them.'
Smith was still grumbling under his breath as he made his way back down to the ramp. 'I hope you know what you're doing.' he said, taking aim with his pistol and blowing off the head of one of the pink aliens that had got a little too close.
'I need you to unlock my pistol and give me a plasma rifle.' Phil stated to the man.
Smith did a double take and then let out a very deep sigh. 'Mr. Jones, while all the old sayings do suggest that your help would be of benefit in these circumstances, I feel inclined to tell you that we already have multiple ways that the ship could be torn apart. I do not plan on... facilitating another.'
The pink glove cut off all circulation to Phil's hand at that statement. Apparently it was rather important that he not let his second in command get his own way on this.
In a voice that wasn't his own, Phil responded. 'Agent Smith, that was not a request, it was a command. Now you will give me a functional weapon or I shall wrestle one off you, understood?'
Smith looked on with confusion and suspicion mixing over his face, he looked ready to fight Phil over such a request and Phil had no illusions about how combat would go against his security officer. Then as if the idea had been his all along, Smith acquiesced by silently handing him a plasma rifle before tapping an array of buttons on Phil's pistol and disabling the safety.
'I hope you know what you're doing, Captain Jones.' he reiterated. These were his only words, barely audible over the laser fire he kept discharging.
'So do I.' Phil muttered, noticing the considerable easing of the glove on his hand.
The pistol turned out to be ridiculously simple to use. Point, aim, shoot. He had braced for the inevitable recoil he had expected to tear his shoulder off but there was none.
A white blast of laser exploded from the tip of his gun with a satisfying sound, completely obliterating the pile of leaves that it had been aimed at without remorse.
Oh well, there was always next time.
He discharged several other shots at the fast-paced pink creatures, each time his aim was hopelessly wide. Had Smith deliberately disabled the targeting system so he couldn't hurt anyone? It was a life-or-death situation, the Agent couldn't be that cold-hearted, could he?
Phil continued to blast away ineffectively at the pink targets that were attempting to swarm over RJ and his companions. They were drawing closer to the ship's ramp now and that drew some hidden reserves of energy that forced them to keep one step ahead of their angry pursuit. It was going to be very close indeed, even at this rate.
Seeing that its compatriots were beginning to fall behind, the monster let out a blood-curdling roar and doubled its gargantuan strides, no longer looking to snatch up and eat its prey but simply squash it.
Already flat out, the roar had no effect on the pace of RJ, but the smaller whippet of a man with an afro seemed to break away now, sprinting into the clear and making for the ramp. The pink aliens attempted to crowd out and intercept him but Smith's cover fire prevented them from getting too close. At this rate at least one of the Scavanger's crew would make it off this planet alive to report back to Star Command of the ship's demise.
After viciously assaulting the fauna of the planet with some more wayward laser shots, Phil finally ceased firing and decided to watch things unfold.
He had to admit, Smith was a very good shot with a blaster pistol, every blast was clinical and deadly no matter how far away the ta
rget seemed. Occasionally he would take pot-shots at the monster's eyes when no pink aliens seemed in proximity to RJ. Phil couldn't tell if it did any damage or if he was just irritating the beast, he wasn't fluent in roaraneese. If he was he'd certainly ask the thing to kindly stop rampaging toward them if it wouldn't mind.
It let out another yell as Smith hit it right in the eye, was it Phil's imagination or was it even bigger than when he had first spotted it? Or it could just be getting closer, much closer. Yes, that would do it.
The afro-stricken sprinter had made the ramp, tearing up it and wisely avoiding Smith's line of sight, he promptly collapsed just inside the ship in a shuddering heap. Phil moved toward him to see what he could learn of the current situation.
'Who are you?' Phil asked, placing a hand on the man's shoulder.
This resulted in the shuddering heap leaping vertically and sending Phil stumbling back in surprise.
'Cadet... damnation. Ensign Trigger Hawkins of the SC Scavanger, sir!'
Phil peered into the man's nervous eyes and tried to assemble some sort of dignity that befitted command.
'I... er... Phil... Captain Phil Jones of the SC.. of this vessel.' he hesitantly stuck out a hand, expecting the man to fly backward in shock. He couldn't blame him, especially after what he had been chased by. Who knows what else this young Ensign had encountered in the depths of both the jungle and his own misfortune?
The blasts from RJ's gun as he fended off the aliens were getting louder, the climax of this desperate action was about to commence.
'You had better get to the cockpit. We'll take it from here.'
Phil watched the young man leave with only a second or two of hesitation to snap off a brittle salute. The pink glove tightened over his skin, somehow he knew that he had to stay here and see the thing through, even if he'd much rather be hidden away with the rest of them.
Smith was more picky with his fire now, showing a surprising amount of compassion in not wanting to hit RJ and the remaining survivor with any friendly fire.
The huge and seemingly unstoppable alien was getting awfully close to both them and the ship now. Whether Hanniman could see this happening on screen or not, Phil did not know, but the engines started to power up even louder than before which could only indicate that they were about to shoot off into space.
It also meant that time was running out for RJ to get onboard.
The comm signal in his helmet went off. 'Captain, we've calculated the creature's position with our scanners and projected the precise point we need to take off in order to escape intact.'
There was a frantic bit of conversation in the background.
'Sir, do you know of a Trigger Hawkins? He claims he can fly the ship if... if RJ doesn't make it.'
Phil really didn't want to think about that possibility right now. 'I sent him up there to join you, if he can fly the thing then... let's hope he doesn't have to.'
'Right you are, Captain. Annika out.'
He turned his attention back to the blasting that had temporarily been muted by the conversation with his Lieutenant, Smith seemed to be firing less discriminately. This was undoubtedly a bad sign, things must have taken a turn for the worse.
Things had taken a turn for the worse.
The aliens were no longer being held back by his rapid fire, they had swarmed far too close to a now unarmed and very disheveled looking RJ. His portly companion was faring much worse, a large gash had torn a rent in his shirt that exposed his flabby pectorals as he bounced up and down, sucking in air that could be his last breath.
Phil realised that from the look of consternation on Smith's face and the flagging footsteps of the man, that he probably wasn't going to make it. The glove tightened even further in response. He needed to do something.
Dashing over to Smith's side, Phil picked up the plasma rifle.
'Jones... now really isn't the time.' Smith managed between concentrated shots, his look turning to fear as his Captain completely ignored him.
Phil was eyeing the plasma rifle with intent, grasping it firmly and then hoisting it upon his shoulder and sighting through the lens. Smith was too engaged in fighting back the aliens that he couldn't stop him.
Raising the rifle in unfamiliar hands, Phil noticed some small red text flickering on a display screen on the inside of the lens.
WARNING! WEAPON PRIMED AND ENGAGED! DO NOT POINT AT LOVED ONES!
Phil briefly wondered if it was machine washable or a choking hazard before continuing to survey the jungle through this strange green scope.
As he swept the sight over the land he could feel his glove tightening and loosening its firm grip upon his trigger finger. He resisted firmly in the hopes of not discharging a fatal beam into the very people he was trying to protect, after all, it seemed to tighten as his sights drew closer to them. Did the glove really want him to shoot them?
Phil idly wondered what it would do if he aimed it at Smith's head, then stifled the thought. There were lives at stake here, he needed to concentrate!
He swept the gun over the field of battle, clearly targeting shots that would destroy aliens but leave RJ and his friend intact. The glove gave no indication that this was what it wanted from him, until he began to move closer to the struggling survivors.
He hovered just above their heads, then gave in to the tension mounting on his wrist and lowered it slightly so that the cross-hairs aimed directly at what now looked to be a fellow Captain's head.
Taking a deep breath, Phil fired.
He completely forgot about the recoil, which sent him blasting up the ramp of the ship and also sent the beam wayward.
An explosion rocked the jungle as Smith yelled something incoherent at him, then as the debris settled and the piercing light faded, Phil spotted two figures dragging their way through the chaos.
RJ hauled the visibly wounded Captain inexorably closer to the ramp of the ship, of the aliens there was no sign. Had the glove somehow managed to clear their path to the starship unopposed?
A roar dispelled that thought instantly and the huge lumbering pink alien cut its way through the smoke that the impact had shot up into the air with all the debris. It swiped at RJ as he slowly carried the Captain forward, limping himself.
Smith sent a series of laser blasts directly into the eyes of the monster, his gun blazing at a rate more than double its previous speed. Phil heard a sizzling sound and Smith dropped the discharged pistol with a yell, apparently he had overloaded it and it had burnt him for his troubles.
'Jones.' he hissed. 'Whatever you do, don't aim your rifle at that thing, it'll just devour the energy and grow in size.'
Phil felt the tightening of the glove though, as he spun the rifle up to the creature once again. The glove was countermanding Smith's pleas, did it know something about warfare that his security chief didn't?
It tightened most when he had the rifle lined up with the creature's mid-riff. There was no time to think, one more swipe or stomp and RJ and this defenceless Captain would be history.
His finger let go of any resistance and slammed itself down upon the trigger with surprising force, this time he braced his considerable weight behind the blast so that it didn't knock him off his feet with the discharge. The beam arced true and thudded into the chest of the beast, who paused mid-strike to soak up the energies his plasma rifle fed it.
Soaking up the energies... it dimly came to Phil's mind as if through many layers of foggy incoherence.
'Smith!' he bellowed in a shout that he'd mastered over many PVP encounters. 'Hit it with your rifle, now!'
Surprisingly Smith complied to the authoritative tone without argument, perhaps he already figured they were doomed and saw little reason to deny Phil's orders. Or maybe, just maybe he was coming to terms with Phil's position in command.
The second beam smashed into the beast and it staggered back slightly, as if struggling to absorb so much energy at once. RJ saw his chance and redoubled his efforts to limp toward the ramp,
the Captain also seemed more lively now that certain death had stalled its arrival.
The beast swelled in size, its veined skin pulsing and throbbing from a deep red to an almost-white pink. It took several staggering steps forward but its momentum wasn't enough to carry it within reach of the now-escaping musical duo of RJ and The Captain.
Phil really needed to stop thinking like that.
He seemed to watch from a disembodied distance as the pair made the ramp and started to crawl up it, he shouted down the intercom for Hanniman to take off, the ship blasted them all back into the hallway leading to the now-closing ramp.
He engaged a final burst from his gun and the giant pink alien trembled terribly, sending a giant clenched fist the size of the ship hurtling toward them.
It then exploded in a gooey mess that they were spared from by the majority of the ramp.
He'd done it, he'd saved them once again.
'Sir. Are you alright?' RJ asked, grimacing through his own pain.
Darwin rose groggily and failed to find his feet properly, lurching horribly with the motion of the ship and tripping over Smith's expended pistol before slumping down to the floor. 'What did you pull me away for...' he said, squinting up at Phil's hazard suit in confusion. 'Cadet... I had them right where I wanted them to want me!'
The finest Captain that Star Command had to offer swiftly passed out.
Smith sighed, almost as if he regretted saving the man. 'Gentlemen, I give you Captain Darwin.'
Chapter 19
Keening! Jamming! Jam!
The intercom crackled over their heads as Smith tended briefly to the inanimate Captain Darwin while the man reposed on the uncomfortable-looking plate of the ship's floor.
'Captain Jones.' Annika said. 'We still have the Voravian mothership to contend with and our temporary pilot claims that they're impossible to outrun.
Smith nearly dropped Darwin's head, making Phil wonder if the deck plating would have been worse off in that collision. 'Mr. Jones, I believe we will both be required in the cockpit.'
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