by Chris Fox
"They're definitely making a push for the bridge," Dryker said, wiping sweat from his forehead. "We have teams on both B and C decks that are making their way here, but I don't know if they'll be here in time to push them back."
"The Void Wraith could have been here by now if they'd wished," Fizgig observed, blinking down at the map. "I believe they are being thorough, systematically wiping out all resistance on their way here."
"She's right," Nolan agreed, tapping three different locations on the map. "We've had fire teams go down here, here, and here. They're clearing a path to us, and they're wiping out everything they can between them and us. If they keep going at that rate, they're going to hit us in the next few minutes. All our Marines were in the shuttle bay, so we'll be virtually undefended."
"Not undefended," the big male Tigris growled. "There are six Tigris here. We will hold this doorway until we receive reinforcements."
"Captain?" Nolan asked.
"Go with him, and take all able-bodied bridge crew with you," Dryker commanded. He gave Nolan a sober look. "Nothing gets through that door. Nothing."
"What about the cube?" Lena asked.
"That stays here with us," Dryker said. "And so do you."
"Acknowledged," Nolan said. "Juliard, Ezana, you're with me." He pushed past the Tigris until he reached the hatch leading back into the CIC.
"We're with you too, human," the male said. "I am called Khar. Remember my name. It will be the name that saves you."
Nolan ignored the cat, hurrying into CIC and giving the place a quick survey. The room wasn't designed as a fall back position. They could use monitors and computers as cover, but that seemed like a bad idea. If the computers were shot up, controlling the ship might not be possible. Of course if the crew were shot up, then there would be no one left to fly the ship anyway.
"Fan out," Nolan said. "Get whatever cover you can, and make sure you've got overlapping fields of fire. We need to gun down anything that comes through that door." He moved for the Captain's chair, turning it around so the back faced the hatch leading into the corridor. It wasn't amazing cover, but he hoped the thick steel backing would ward off at least a shot or two.
"Commander," Juliard yelled, her voice tinged with panic. "The B deck hatch just opened. We don't have any fire teams in that area."
"Get ready for contact, people," Nolan bellowed. He gripped his pistol in both hands, ready to take a shot at whatever came through that doorway. "Khar, we've got nothing but small arms. You and your people are going to have to do the heavy lifting."
"Fear not, human." Khar gave a fanged grin. "My people will protect you."
Something shimmered in the doorway. Before anyone could react two bursts of blue energy shot into the room. The first took a cat in the face, and the Tigris dropped limply to the ground. She didn't rise. The second shot caught the monitor Juliard was hiding behind, sending up a shower of sparks and momentarily dimming the lights.
"Fire," Nolan roared, squeezing the trigger as fast as he could. The pistol bucked, sending a slug toward where he hoped the Judicator's head was. Its shimmering field dropped for a moment, exposing the emotionless metal face. Then other weapons fired--pistols from the humans, and the larger slug-throwing rifles the Tigris favored.
The Judicator staggered backwards, pushed through the doorway by the combined fury of both races. It staggered to the ground, crashing and not rising.
"Take cover," Nolan yelled. He ducked behind the captain's chair. A moment later a wash of heat and flame passed overhead. A mewling scream came from the near the doorway. Nolan glanced up. One of the cats hadn't gotten into cover in time.
Two more shimmering figures reached the doorway and began firing. Another cat went down, then another. Only Khar and two of his soldiers remained, all three behind cover. The Judicators were playing it smart, eliminating the largest threats first.
Nolan sighted down his barrel, then squeezed off two shots. He tagged one of the Judicators in the neck, sending up a spray of sparks. It ducked back into cover, leaving its companion alone in the doorway.
"For the Leonis!" Khar bellowed. He rose from cover, sprinting at the doorway. The Judicator fired, but the big golden cat was ready. He vaulted over the shot, twisting in the air, and came down with his bayonet extended. It sank into the Judicator's head, all the way to the hilt.
Khar pressed a button on his rifle, and the bayonet detached. Then he planted a foot against the Judicator's chest and kicked with all his might. The Judicator was flung back into the hallway, past its companion. Khar ducked back into CIC, taking shelter next to the doorway. A moment later another wall of flame shot through the doorway, this time not harming anyone.
"I told you, human," Khar said, laughing manically. "We will protect you."
"Movement," Juliard yelled. "I see at least four of them incoming."
"Damn it," Nolan muttered. This couldn't be their main force, but that might not matter. Most of the Judicators were still spread on the lower decks wiping out the crew, but even the handful they were facing seemed likely to overwhelm the bridge if they didn't get some help.
Chapter 51- CIC
"Let's move, people," Hannan said, grabbing Edwards by the forearm and hauling him to his feet. Izzy darted to the doorway, peering cautiously through the smoke. Her nose twitched, then her ears. Finally she turned back to Hannan, and gave her a nod.
Mills finished refilling his clip, slammed it into place, then joined them. He paused next to Izzy, meeting the cat's gaze. "You saved my ass back there. I won't forget it."
Hannan could only blink. Mills rarely strung that many words together, and she'd never heard him express gratitude before. And to a Tigris?
"We have a saying," Izzy said, clapping him on the shoulder. "The count is not done until the battle is done. You may return the favor, and if you do there is nothing to be thanked for. If not, thank me then."
Mills nodded, and Izzy leapt into the hallway. Hannan let Edwards and Mills follow, before finally bringing up the rear. Back when she'd been a private she'd loved taking point, but one of the first lessons her sergeant had drilled into her was the need for command to be in a position to assess. Those who led from the front usually died at the front, and when they went down their troops were either routed or wiped out. Smart commanders knew that.
They moved up the corridor, turning down the T intersection and finally entering the barrel of the gauss rifle--a smooth-walled tube, twenty feet in diameter, that extended the length of the ship. A quick glance in either direction showed no signs of movement. Hannan had been worried that this might be a potential target. The pair of massive magnetic generators at the aft of the ship propelled a hunk of dense metal up the barrel. If that happened with the barrel closed, the resulting kinetic force would be transferred into the ship. It was as close to a self-destruct as the Johnston had, and something she didn't want to see exploited.
The doorway they'd entered from was set into a recessed alcove, and there was a matching one on the other side of the barrel. Since the place was empty, Hannan waved Izzy forward, and the Tigris darted across the barrel to the other door. Edwards moved next, then Mills, and finally Hannan. It all felt a little easy, but she wasn't about to question her good fortune.
As soon as Izzy opened the hatch, they heard the sounds of gunfire. Bullets ricocheted off walls, and occasionally they heard the telltale explosion of a Judicator detonating. The screams became less and less frequent as they advanced up the C deck corridor. It was sobering, and they all knew what it meant. The Judicators were winning, and if something didn't change it would only be a matter of time before they took the ship.
"How much longer to your bridge?" Izzy asked. She'd paused next to an open hatchway that led to the aft causeway.
"Another hundred yards," Hannan called back. She paused next to Izzy, peering through the hatch and up the causeway. "Might take us four or five minutes."
"I don't hear any gunfire here," Mills said.
&nbs
p; "Sounds like combat is mostly confined to A and B decks," Edwards replied. He leaned his M-601 against his knee, planting his butt against the wall. His chest was heaving from exertion, and Hannan could tell from his breathing that he was running on fumes.
"Less talk, more walk," she barked, jerking her head to indicate that Izzy should move through the hatch.
Izzy did so, and the others followed. Hannan brought up the rear. While she was just as exhausted as the others, she was very careful not to show it. Morale was the second thing her first sergeant had taught her about. It didn't matter how much you hurt. You never showed weakness in front of your men.
They crossed the causeway, which had short stairwells set every twenty feet. They advanced over the engines, then began looping back into the main body of the ship. Eventually they reached a hatch leading to A deck. The hatch was closed.
Izzy knelt next to it, then turned to face them. "I can't hear anything on the other side."
"Open it," Hannan ordered. Mills slung his rifle over his shoulder, then bent to the hatch. He spun the wheel, pulling the door towards them.
Izzy was through the tube in a flash of white, quickly followed by Edwards. Hannan dropped to one knee, scanning the corridor beyond with the barrel of her rifle. She could hear faint screams in the distance, broken by sporadic gunfire. It was weaker here than it had been on C deck.
Once Mills was through, Hannan shot to her feet and trotted after him. Her squad leapfrogged their way across the starboard side of A deck. They circled wide, hugging the outer hull of the ship until they no longer had a choice. Then they shifted inward, making for the CIC set into the heavily armored core of the ship.
The gunfire grew louder as they approached the CIC, and a massive explosion echoed down the corridor. The gunfire paused, then resumed a moment later. It was mostly small arms fire, which Hannan found alarming. Fighting these things with pistols was a quick way to get killed. She was thankful that at least a few of the shots were the deep booms she'd come to associate with Tigris rifles.
"Izzy," Hannan called, softly. The cat's ear twitched, and she shot an inquisitive look Hannan's way. Hannan glided forward until she'd gathered all four squad members and they were crouched a few feet from the corner of a T intersection. "This is it. As soon as we round this corner, we'll have a view of the hatch leading to CIC."
"How do you want to do this?" Edwards asked.
"We wait until we hear another push. The Judicators engage the bridge crew," Hannan said. "Once they're engaged, we throw everything we have at them from behind. Down every target you can. If they pursue us, fall back around this corner."
"Simple, but effective. I like it," Izzy said, nodding. Her tail swished endlessly against the floor, which Hannan assumed was an indicator of stress. If so, Izzy hid it well.
"Get into position," Hannan ordered.
Chapter 52- Last Stand
Nolan glanced around at the remaining bridge crew. Emo, Ezana, and Juliard had taken cover. A few techs were still up. That was it. Khar was their last Tigris. They'd fought off three assaults, but Nolan knew a fourth would be the last. There was no way they could endure another assault.
"Prepare yourself human; they come again," Khar roared from his place next to the hatch.
Nolan darted forward and scooped up one of the Tigris rifles. It was heavier than he'd expected, and he struggled to get the barrel aligned with the doorway. The foot-and-a-half blade at the end threw off the balance, but fortunately it would be hard to miss at this range.
A Judicator entered the doorway, its shimmering form bending the light around it. Nolan squeezed the trigger, and the rifle bucked. The stock slammed back into his shoulder, and he grunted in pain. That was going to leave a bruise for days.
The Judicator staggered backwards, the shot temporarily disrupting its cloaking field. It took a step back towards the room, but Khar stepped into the hatch and ended the Judicator with a head shot. Nolan clutched the rifle to his chest, and dove behind a console. Heat washed over the top as yet another explosion detonated in the hall.
How much more punishment could that corridor take?
"Two more," Khar roared, though Nolan could barely hear him over the ringing in his ears.
He struggled to his knees, raising a hand to touch his right ear. A thin stream of something sticky flowed down his neck. He touched it with two fingers, then held them up before his eyes. Red. Blood. Nolan knew he wasn't thinking clearly, but everything felt so far away.
"Commander, we need you," Khar roared.
Nolan blinked, then shook his head. That caused massive pain, but the pain brought him back around. Another assault was beginning.
Two Judicators advanced on the doorway. The first was caught by small arms fire from the remaining bridge crew, each shot causing it to pause mid-step. The collective assault dropped the cloaking field, but the Judicator seemed otherwise unharmed. It raised its plasma rifle and fired off three quick shots. Two screams came from behind Nolan, but he didn't have time to see who'd gone down.
He raised the Tigris rifle, aligning the crosshairs with the now-visible Judicator's face. The rifle kicked again and he felt more than heard the shot. The butt drove into his shoulder a second time, renewing the pain there. But the shot was accurate. It took the Judicator in the face, and it crashed to the ground. Unfortunately, it crashed to the ground inside the CIC.
"Take cover," Nolan roared. He dropped back into a crouch, and covered his head with both arms.
Ezana leapt over Nolan, using his own body to covering the Judicator's. Nolan started to rise, desperately wanting to tell Ezana to get out of the way, but it was too late.
A wave of fire and shrapnel blossomed. Ezana's body muted the force of the explosion, but even with his body shielding the blast, shrapnel destroyed a number of key systems--including the view screen.
The stench of smoke, ozone, and gunpowder filled the area around Nolan, and he found himself coughing furiously. He tried to get to his feet, but it just wasn't going to be possible. He couldn't hear. Could barely see.
He'd landed on the floor next to the terminal he'd used for cover, and that terminal now had a gaping hole in the middle where one of the Judicator's limbs had punched through it. The hole showed four more Judicators advancing up the hall, their shimmering forms unmistakable amidst the smoke.
Then the first one slumped to the ground, becoming visible as it toppled. Its head had simply ceased to exist. The second and third Judicators pivoted to face the way they'd come, but it didn't save them. The first had both knees severed as the unmistakable roar of an M-601 pounded on Nolan's remaining eardrum. The third Judicator was launched backwards from multiple attacks. The fourth managed to get off several shots at its attackers, but the answering volley cut it down.
The resulting explosions, as all four Judicators went up at virtually in the same instant, shook the entire ship. When the shaking stopped Nolan, was unable to rise. Unable to think.
So he passed out.
Chapter 53- Desperate Plan
"Your plan is terrible," Fizgig said, looking down at the map Dryker had drawn. Dryker grimaced, but didn't respond--not immediately, anyway.
Finally, he sighed. "Do you have a better plan?" he asked. The sounds of gunfire were ever-present, even though they'd closed the hatch to the ready room.
"No," Fizgig said, sighing. "Which of us do you wish to have stay behind?"
"I'll do it," Dryker said, glancing at Lena as she entered the ready room from the opposite hatch. "She has to get to the Void Wraith vessel. Make sure that she does."
"Captain?" Lena asked, closing the hatch behind her.
"How many are there?" Dryker asked, withdrawing his sidearm and testing the action.
"Six," Lena said. "Each has a ninety-minute supply of oxygen."
"Perfect," Dryker said, starting for the hatch that led back into the CIC. It was hot to the touch. Not a good sign.
"Where are you going?" Fizgig asked, her tail t
hrashing in obvious annoyance.
"Back to CIC. They're losing out there; if they go down, the plan is for naught. We need to get the situation there under control, and get some armed personnel ready to escort Lena," Dryker explained. He spun the wheel on the hatch, pushing the door open a few inches.
The smoke was thick in the CIC, and the moans of the dying layered with the crackling of electrical fires. A quick glance around the room told the awful truth. There was no way the Johnston could fly. The nerve center that controlled her vital functions had been destroyed. That couldn't be helped. What could was the desperate plan he'd concocted. To pull that off, he was going to need something resembling a cohesive fighting force.
Dryker moved into the CIC, running in a low crouch until he found someone moving. He knelt next to a prone form. It was Nolan. "Commander, can you hear me?"
"Ow," Nolan said, his eyes fluttering open. They widened in alarm. "You have to get back into the ready room sir. We're about to lose the CIC."
"No, you're not," came a loud voice from the doorway.
Dryker looked up to see several figures striding through the doorway. Hannan was in the lead, flanked by Edwards and a white-furred Tigris. Mills crept in after them, then attempted to close the hatch. It was so badly bent in its frame that the best he could do was close it about sixty percent of the way.
"Hannan, sit rep," Dryker said. He seized Nolan's arm, and hauled him to his feet. Dryker didn't know the extent of the commander's injuries, but if the man could walk, Dryker needed him on his feet.
"CIC is secure for now, sir," Hannan said, glancing back through the hatch into the corridor. It was littered with bits of metal and circuitry, and the walls were caked with soot from repeated detonations. "I think we've stopped them for the time being, but there are still teams all over the ship. They'll be on us again in a few minutes."
