The Legion and the Lioness

by Robert D. Armstrong

  “Just stop! I’m giving them a portion, they’re starving! I’ll contact command, and they can come up with a plan. Captain, this is what separates us from the machines. We take care of our own,” Drake said.

  “What? Hold the fuck up. We take care of our own? What about the future of the human race? That’s what you’re risking here. We’re working against the clock. Every decision you make is paramount to our survival. You think the android fleet will just sit around and wait for us to figure out how to destroy them? Fuck no. They smell blood, we’re weak. You’re allowing your emotions to cloud your judgment, Colonel,” I stabbed my finger at him.

  “Captain Belic, I appreciate your input, but that’ll be all for now. I’m in charge in this situation,” Drake ordered.

  “Oh? Pulling rank, are we?” I asked.

  “Yeah, I am. You don’t see me telling you how to fly this spacecraft, do you? No. I respect your ability and the position you’re in,” he posed.

  “You respect it because I’ve proven myself. I’m tried and tested. Have you ever dealt with anything on this scale?” I asked.

  “Have you? I am as close as it gets on Titan. This is a human crisis situation and that’s why I’m here,” Drake snapped his back to me.

  “What are you willing to do, Drake? Pack them all in here and we sleep together? We barely have room with the three of us. Not to mention, we’d run out of food. They can’t come in here, and they don’t have enough oxygen in that pod. I’m in charge of this vessel and you are placing the integrity of my ship at risk,” I rattled. Drake spun toward at me, within a dozen centimeters of my face. His eyes were bulging.

  “The reason for you and this ship is to find out where an android base is. If the key to finding it is inside that drop pod, we have to make this work,” Drake whispered, pointing at the pod. Even though he lowered his voice, his intensity didn’t diminish.

  “Okay. Alright. Listen, let me say it another way,” I lowered my voice. “Every ounce of food you give them, it’s a waste. It’s a shred of false hope. Is it worse to torture them or tell them the truth?” I said.

  “So, you suggest we do what, Captain? Lie to them so we get the coordinates, then eject the pod?” he asked. Drake glanced over at Xena leaning against the wall. He stared at her for a couple of moments.

  This was the generational culmination of being an Earthling, I supposed this was the difference between myself and the Titans. War was in my blood. I was born during a war, and I almost died during another. Titans were peaceful, taught to look down on my kind, aim above our brutal society, bridging harmony through unity.

  This wasn’t peace time, not anymore. That made Drake, and the people of Titan fish out of water. Ironically, in this situation, it made me the voice of reason.

  “That’s exactly what I’m suggesting. Eject them into space,” I said calmly. Any alternative didn’t make sense for Titan’s survival or my chances of finding Luther.

  “You’re insane,” he replied.

  “While I suspect Captain Belic could have an agenda here, I must admit she’s correct, Colonel Drake,” Xena said. I snapped my head around toward her.

  “That’s not what I wanted to hear, Xena,” Drake replied.

  “More than likely, the androids are assessing data from our battle, readying a much larger fleet to destroy Titan,” Xena said.

  “I understand that! You don’t think that’s on my mind!” he shouted. Xena stepped within a meter of Drake, she stopped, crossing her arms.

  “We risk the survival of Titan if we’re not able to devise a means to acquire those coordinates. As stated, it’s possible the refugees know of a location. But both you and Captain Belic require adequate sustenance for your organic metabolism. The healthier you are, the higher the chance of mission success is if we’re forced to go to Earth. There are many layers to this decision, but it’s extremely risky to fully commit to these refugees’ survival,” she explained.

  “Oh, my God.” Drake slumped his head. I could see the pressure resonating on his face, the faraway eyes, the flushness of his cheeks. His next words could very well determine the future of humanity.

  “Then just make the call. You know the risk. You’re one of the best and brightest,” I said. He nodded, staring at the ground.

  “Take off your helmet,” he ordered.

  “What?” I asked.

  “Please. Remove your helmet, I want this to be as human an experience as possible. I want them to see all of us,” he explained.

  “Um, okay, not sure it will matter, not to mention it’s against the rules,” I replied.

  “Just, please...” he lowered his voice.

  “Colonel, your heart rate is elevating far beyond normal. Do you require medical attention?” Xena asked.

  “No. I’m fine,” he said, pulling a huge sealed container from the locker. It read ‘MRE large pack’ on the labeling. He stormed back toward the airlock, stepping up and in. I followed close behind.

  “What’s the plan?” I asked. Drake ignored me.

  “Viktor. This portion will feed your people for now. We have another pack like this we’re readying,” Drake said in a hurried tone. Viktor paused, glancing over his shoulder. He nodded his head slowly. “Yes, please.”

  “Again, we agree that you give us the coordinates when I hand this over, right?” Drake said.

  “Yes. I will give location,” he replied. Drake paused for a few moments with his finger on the microphone. He seemed to be collecting his thoughts before speaking.

  “Viktor, we’re going to open the final door here and hand over the food pack, but keep in mind we have to seal it back after the transfer is made,” Drake instructed.

  He handed me the package. “Hold this so I can open the door.”

  “Don’t open it completely, Drake, just enough to get the food through. Those people could be sick. Without our helmets, we’re fucked. The instructions above the handle state you can open the door partially with a half-turn,” I whispered.

  “I’d planned on it,” Drake snapped.

  “Just a reminder,” I said. He turned the circular handle embedded in the glass shield halfway, pressing it in. The door split horizontally from the middle, opening about forty centimeters. Drake turned to me, grabbing the MRE food pack.

  Viktor smiled, extending his filthy, rough hands through the opening. I stared at his hands as they shook slightly, only a few dozen centimeters from my face. I thought of Earth, my home. I felt a special kinship with him. His grandparents were likely alive when I fought against the machines. I wondered what he’d seen in his life. No doubt he’d fought and worked for every breath. I quickly closed off my thoughts, his existence was likely coming to an end.

  Viktor paused when he got his hands around the MRE pack, squeezing it. He slumped his head. “Forgive me.”

  “What?” I mumbled. In one motion, he slung the MRE behind him, immediately lunging forward, stuffing his arms through the hole, attempting to fit through.

  “No!” I yelled, pushing Viktor back, but he easily shrugged me off, like a gangly wild animal full of adrenaline. A loud roar erupted behind him as everyone piled toward the door in a mad rush, stuffing their arms in-between the glass gap.

  “Seal the door!” I yelled.

  “No! It’ll kill `em!” Drake shouted.

  “Drake! Shut that fucking door!” I yelled. All at once, someone stabbed a metal pipe through the opening, then several refugees jumped on it. They began to hinge at the glass shield with their weight, bouncing up and down on it. It was inching open. A woman began shoving a small boy through. His yellowed teeth snapped at my hand as I pushed his head back.

  “Get the fuck out! Out, out!” I yelled, attempting to shove the boy back in.

  “Colonel? Orders. Colonel!” Xena shouted. For once, I heard a sense of urgency in her voice. Drake’s eyes bulged. He was frozen in fear.

  “H-he lied to me,” Drake muttered, backing away. I lunged to the side of the flailing arms. I gr
abbed the circular handle, attempting to close it.

  I felt them clawing at my face as I smacked them away. “Get the fuck off me!” I yelled. Their fingernails were filthy, packed with black grime. The smell was almost unbearable as body odor, urine, and dried blood funneled through the gap.

  “Xena! Stop them!” I yelled with hands clawing at my face, but she was unresponsive to my order. I wasn’t in command.

  The door began to bounce and sway. I lost my grip on the handle. The glass cracked as a bearded man was smashing the door with a larger beam. I didn’t notice him before. Both of his arms were cybernetic, allowing him to thrust the massive object with ease. Each impact shook the drop pod.

  “Drake! Help me!” I attempted to turn the handle as they pulled at my arms. Then all at once, the glass shield door gave way, opening completely. I was knocked backward as the mob shrieked in excitement. I scampered across the deck in retreat as Xena yanked Drake out of the airlock by his collar, tossing him inside the XU-97. He kicked himself backward all the way to the hull in shock.

  “Ugh, oh God,” Drake muttered. The horde piled toward the secondary airlock, diving to prevent us from closing it. Xena and I rushed to seal the final door, our only defense against the mob taking over the XU-97.

  Xena pulled the door across her body with incredible speed, within several centimeters of closing it, a metal pipe thrusted through, stopping it. The door clanked loudly, bending the pipe. I could hear the Russians yelling and chanting inside. As a combat pilot, I’d never witnessed desperation like this, up close and personal, its ferocity on full display.

  I was admittedly terrified.

  I peered through the crack in the door. Several people were tugging the pipe in a mad scramble, attempting to wedge the door back open. A larger beam suddenly shot through the gap.

  “Fuck!” I yelled.

  Xena struggled to overpower them as more bodies piled on top of the fulcrums. They’d wedged themselves over the rods, using the confined space to negate Xena’s strength advantage. I jumped up to help her, using my weight the best I could.

  The handle on the airlock was slowly bending as she held her ground. Her body shook as her short, white hair vibrated under the tension.

  “Colonel, I-I’m cannot hold this much longer,” she warned. Her eyes jumped back and forth around the door.

  “Hold the line! What about this eject button, there’s another one beside this airlock!” I yelled.

  “No, we have to seal the airlock first,” Xena replied.

  The door began to pry open further, a man drove his head through the gap as people shoved him inside. “I’ll die! I don’t care! Fuck you!” he yelled with a thick accent.

  Drake ran behind Xena, pushing her back. With every second, the Russians gained a centimeter. I hurried to the weapons locker, grabbing a C-12 pistol. I steadied my aim through the crack.

  All at once, the door buckled under Xena’s might, flinging open violently, sending Drake to the deck. Xena recovered quickly, clamping her arms and legs around the circular airlock doorframe, blocking most of the flooding horde.

  One man made it past her. He scurried in my direction, elbowing me in the nose. My vision blurred, but I fired the pistol, melting a softball size hole through his chest cavity. We fell to the ground as my pistol skipped across the deck, out of my reach.

  I scooted from under the corpse, smelling body odor mixed with scorched flesh. I frantically panned around for my pistol.

  I glanced over at Drake. He’d been cut badly on his right shoulder, applying pressure as blood gushed out. Xena was holding the line as best she could. They were bashing her in the face with metal pipes and their fists, screaming at her to move.

  Behind them, the bionic Russian was readying a larger metal beam to use as a battering ram. People were lining up on each side of it. They began to swing the massive beam into Xena as sparks flew off her head and torso. With every blow, her body shifted violently from the deafening impact. The metallic lip around the doorframe curled downward from Xena’s steadfast grip.

  “Drake!” I yelled.

  “Co-lonel Drake. Please, give me the order,” Xena pleaded.

  “Drake, I can’t order her to stop them! You’re in charge!” I yelled. It was them or us. Kill or be killed. Drake glanced over at me. His eyes were glossy.

  He bit his lip. “Xena, I-I’m ordering you...protect the people of Titan!”

  As he gave the order, the battering ram knocked Xena off the doorframe and to her knees. She quickly sprang back upright as the first man filed into our ship, screaming and leading the savage charge.

  He ran toward me with a shiv-like blade in hand. As I looked up at his face, a fist appeared as Xena punched a hole through his skull, knocking his teeth and bone fragments into my lap. I wiped my face, staring back at her as blood stung my eyes.

  Xena snatched another man off the floor by his throat before he could enter. I heard his neck snap as his head dropped lifelessly, like a dead duck being carried by a hunter’s dog. She slung his corpse into the airlock like a bowling ball of bones. The violent impact knocked down several people.

  She marched inside the airlock as the bionic grizzled man stood his ground, poking the steel beam at her. “Poshyol ty'!” He shouted in Russian, flashing his blackened teeth.

  Xena rushed him, punching the metal beam on its end. The rod shot out of his hands through the airlock with the speed and sound of a high-powered rifle discharge. It punched grapefruit sized holes through three people, clanking against the bulkhead and deck as the refugees toppled over dead.

  As horrible as it was, I couldn’t stop watching.

  The robotic man stared down at his empty hands for a moment in confusion. He turned in retreat. Xena lunged at him, pulling his arms toward her, she kicked him in the back, ripping his arms from the shoulder joints. She began to bash him violently with the metallic arms as he attempted to retreat. I could hear bones snapping as she beat the rest of the refugees back like a pack of whipped feral dogs.

  The survivors scurried back inside the pod. They backed against the far wall. Xena tossed the unconscious and dead bodies back inside with them, one of them was the young boy who I saw initially.

  Drake shambled toward the airlock. I rushed to the medical kit, grabbing a large gauze pad. “Put pressure on it,” I said, placing the pad on his wound. Xena walked by us as she exited the airlock. She glanced down at me, her blue eyes peering through the red blood spatter on her face. “Colonel, Captain, the threat is neutralized,” she said calmly.

  “R-Roger,” I stuttered.

  Viktor stood in front of his people. He’d survived. He was crying, holding a young boy in his arms. “Look!” he yelled, putting his blooded face up to the glass. He was dead. Part of his skull was missing likely due to Xena’s ferociousness.

  “My brother! And now my son!” he yelled hysterically. Drake stared a million miles away, shaking his head.

  “T-this is the result of your actions Viktor! You lied. You didn’t give us a choice!” Drake shouted as I stepped back in the airlock with him.

  Drake glanced back at me. “Out of the airlock,” he ordered with authority. I hurried back. I could tell he meant business as he lowered his eyebrows and stabbed his index finger at me.

  “No chance. None of it makes sense. Not enough food. Room. Oxygen. This is not the way of language in my world. We must kill to live,” Viktor responded.

  Drake exited as well. He placed his hand on the pod’s eject button. He stared through the open airlock door into Viktor’s eyes. “Then maybe, maybe, I need to learn to speak your language?” Drake asked, slamming and sealing the door shut as he smashed the eject button.

  “Gotta start somewhere,” he added.

  Viktor’s eyes widened before the door closed. The XU-97 rocked back and forth. I glanced up through an observation window as the pod was flung violently into space tumbling end over end.

  Instantly, I could feel the vacuum of space tugging at me f
rom the gap in the warped doorframe. Xena lunged forward, bending the lip on the door back with her bare hands. “Hull breach detected. Hull breach sealed,” Xena confirmed as she adjusted the door.

  I wiped blood from my jumpsuit. I wasn’t sure whose it was. My bottom lip quivered as I put my hand over my mouth. I collapsed to the floor, attempting to hold back the tears. Drake put his arms around me as I braced against the deck. My chest was aching.

  “Ah, slow breaths,” I mumbled to myself.

  “I-I don’t know. I just don’t know why.” Drake shook his head in disbelief.

  Xena stared at us confused for a moment, then she nodded, as if her programming alerted her of the emotional gravity of the situation. “Captain Belic, Colonel, I understand that was an intense situation, but we should inform Titan of this immediately,” Xena suggested. I glanced up at her. Stripes of blood still swooped across her face like war paint.

  “Fine.” Drake spun around. He stood up, attempting to pull me up. “I’m okay,” I said, standing up on my own. As I stared at Drake, I noticed my nose was offset to the left, possibly broken.

  “Both of you have injuries that need attention. I’ll tend to the wounds, then I will clean and sterilize every inch of the interior. For now, I would suggest stripping down your clothes and steering clear of this area. As was stated earlier, these people could have been host to any number of diseases, known or unknown,” Xena instructed.

  “Help Drake first. He’s lost a lot of blood,” I said.

  “My wound could be infected. The bar that stabbed me w-was rusted.” He scanned around the room.

  “You’re in shock, Drake,” I said. I’d been there before, I knew the look. He snapped over at me, his eyes widened.

  “You’re running on adrenaline, slow breaths,” I added. He slumped his head as he sat down, gazing toward the airlock.

  I leaned up against the hull, overlooking the carnage. Blood and brain matter had been splattered everywhere.