by Isaac Hooke
“Hm, it’s not going to be so easy for the colonists to move down a few floors, considering that the common areas aren’t pressurized,” TJ said.
“I’ve analyzed the atmosphere,” Snakeoil said. “The pressure isn’t too different from our own. If they hold their breaths, and move quickly, they could make it between floors.”
“What about their eyes, and exposed skin?” Lui said. “There are some caustics in the atmosphere…”
“Their eyes will certainly water,” Snakeoil said. “And they’ll develop some skin irritations, but they’ll survive. Admittedly, a few might need medical treatment. Hopefully they have first aid kits.”
“Only twenty could go at a time,” Kicker said. “Given the size of the airlock we just left behind. Plus, keep in mind we’ll have to manually open and close the airlocks, as I doubt the emergency power is feeding the hatches.”
“We’re getting ahead of ourselves,” Tahoe said. “We haven’t found any colonists yet.”
Bender led the way to the closest stairwell.
“How do you think they opened the stairwell doors?” Fret said. “There are no marks on the door, or its handle.”
Bender grabbed the handle and opened it. “It’s not locked. They used their tentacles.”
The platoon proceeded down to the next floor. Lui and Bender cleared the hallway beyond.
“We got a breached airlock here, too,” Lui said. “You think it’s worth checking out? Any colonists are probably dead.”
“We’ll give it a cursory inspection,” Rade said.
Bender and Lui led the way through the airlock, and into the darkened office space inside. Since there were no breaches in the blast shield that covered the windows, it was mostly dark, with only a few emergency lights to guide them. The light cones of their weapons provided the illumination they needed, however.
Spread across the floor were at least fifty dead colonists.
“Shitty,” Lui said.
“Look at the relatively calm expressions on their faces,” Bomb said. “I think they were dead well before the airlock was breached. Only a few of the bodies have puncture wounds, near the hatch.”
“That would make sense,” Praxter said. “Considering these colonists were well within the gamma ray penetration zone.”
“How many more floors down does that zone extend?” Rade asked.
“Based on the exposure sequences I recorded during the battle,” Praxter said. “Another three.”
They made a quick sweep of the floor, and then returned to the airlock, and took the stairwell down.
The platoon made similar discoveries on the next two floors, though the number of dead colonists they discovered increased each time. The crowding was fairly bad. It might not be feasible to move them down to subsequent floors after all.
On the next floor, the expressions on the dead were not so peaceful. Their bodies were contorted, their faces set in a grimace as if they died in agony.
“These guys didn’t die from radiation…” Skullcracker said.
“No,” Rade said. “They died from exposure to the atmosphere when the airlock was breached.”
As they took the stairs down to the next floor, Rade heard a noise… a steady thudding, as of someone striking a hammer into a nail.
Or trying to hew through an airlock.
The knocking had a staccato quality to it, implying multiple strikes at the same time.
“To the next floor, quickly!” Rade said. “And quietly!”
Bender and Lui led the way, and the platoon padded down to the next floor. Bender peered through the small glass window in the stairwell door, at the hallway beyond.
Rade switched to his viewpoint. The hatch that led to the office area was already broken. There were no aliens in sight.
“The airlock’s already breached,” Bender announced.
Rade still heard that staccato hammering, coming louder this time.
“Next floor!” Rade transmitted, returning to his own vision.
The platoon proceeded down the stairwell at a quick pad.
Lui beat Bender to the small window, and when he peered past, he inhaled with a hiss.
“Got aliens,” Lui said. “Three of them. The lead pair are trying to break through the airlock.”
Rade nodded at Lui. “Get ready to open the door.”
“I’ll prop it with my boot,” Lui said.
“Pyro, Kicker, you watch the upper stairwell, make sure we’re not attacked from above,” Rade said. “Praxter, Rex, you watch the lower flight. Let us know if any aliens come from below.”
Praxter and Rex raced down past the stairwell door, and assumed a defensive position on the next flight. Meanwhile Pyro and Kicker remained in place, aiming up the stairs toward the floor the platoon had just vacated.
The others took up various positions along the steps and platform in front of the door, behind Lui.
“Now, Lui,” Rade said.
Lui engaged the door, and swung it open. He slid out of the way so that the others could fire, and held it in place with his boot.
Three aliens were crowded into the hallway beyond. Their backs were to the team, though the closest was swiveling its head around, apparently having heard the opening door.
Rade’s targeting overlay was still active: the third tentacles on the left flanks were highlighted in green, and a small X near the carapaces marked the vulnerable regions underneath.
Rade opened fire. The others mostly targeted the same alien, striking the vulnerability, and it squealed hideously as the laser cauterized the region. It shoved forward, its tentacles flailing wildly, with the alien only wanting to get away from the pain. It crawled over the Draactal immediately in front of it, and then squeezed past the next, and collapsed against the far wall.
But Rade and the others were already firing again with their laser rifles before the next alien could shield its vulnerable point, and it too was sent into a flailing frenzy. But this time, the alien spun about, and attempted to strike at its assailants. Those ax blades hacked into the metal doorframe, and struck at the floor just in front of Lui.
The underside of its carapace was exposed as it hacked away, and Rade and the others released more shots, targeting its belly, concentrating on the region close to the vulnerability. More bore holes pocked the area, and at last the alien couldn’t take the pain, and it too retreated, landing on its back next to one of the elevators.
The next alien rushed the stairwell, but Rade and his team were ready. They concentrated their fire on the vulnerable point, and the beast howled in pain.
Bender threw a grenade, and the detonation blew a blast crater in its carapace, not far from its head.
It kept coming, frantically hacking away. The pain seemed to blind it somewhat, because its aim seemed almost random.
Still, Lui was forced to retreat, along with the others closest to the door. The Draactal shoved its body through the gap, keeping the door open, but then finally it simply collapsed. Its flanks moved in and out quickly as if it was panting.
The team kept firing, targeting the fresh blast wound, since the vulnerable spot underneath the tentacle wasn’t visible presently, not with the creature collapsed like that. The alien swung its head back and forth, as if it could somehow shake off the invisible laser attacks, but then it crawled backward, retreating.
It collapsed again in the main hallway, but this time its flanks ceased moving.
“Damn, that kinda took a lot of work,” Fret said. “It’s times like this you really miss the mechs.”
One of the stricken aliens still convulsed as it lay there on its back with its legs crimped above its body.
“Is it dead?” Fret asked.
Bender walked inside and rammed his laser rifle between the mandibles, and squeezed the trigger.
Those legs swung outward suddenly, striking the ceiling, but then crimped right up again. The convulsing ceased.
“Now it’s dead,” Bender said.
“I still hear thudding,” Tahoe said.
Rade paused, listening. He heard it too. A staccato thudding sound, repeating.
“They’re a floor or two below,” Rade said.
He sent the platoon down, and discovered two more Draactals crowded into the next hallway, and similarly trying to break through the airlock beyond. The platoon used the element of surprise to clear them out, targeting the vulnerable regions just like before.
They still heard knocking, and discovered another three on the next floor trying to break in. Again, the platoon beat them, though this time it required some extra grenades, because this particular trio refused to die.
Finally, when these last three went down, Rade heard no more sounds of forced entry.
“I’ll take Lui, Manic, Rex, Fret, and Kicker down to check the next few levels,” Scotts said. “You head back up to the intact airlock upstairs. See if you can contact the colonists. Go inside if you have to.”
Rade nodded, and hurried up the stairs with the remainder of the platoon.
They reached the first airlock, and stepped past the alien bodies.
“This one is too damaged to enter,” Snakeoil said, running a hand through the tears the Draactals had made in the outer hatch. “We won’t be able to open the airlock, not without partially contaminating the interior.”
“Can you contact the colonists?” Rade asked.
Snakeoil shook his head. “I’m not picking up any remote interfaces. I’ve tried sending a broadcast, but haven’t received a response yet. Without building power, the comm nodes will be offline; and any Implants or aReals they possess obviously aren’t strong enough to penetrate these walls.”
“Keep broadcasting,” Rade said. “Scotts, are you there?”
No answer.
Rade glanced at his overhead map. The status indicators of Scotts and his team remained frozen where they had passed out of range. The comm nodes in the jumpsuits were short-ranged as it was, and the thick material of the stairwell would have only interfered. As the comm officers, Snakeoil and Fret had the most powerful comm nodes of the lot, but evidently, they still weren’t good enough.
“Cyclone, Bender, Rex, Snakeoil, with me,” Rade said. “The rest of you, stay in the stairwell and protect the entrance.”
“This is a good chokepoint,” Pyro agreed. “We’ll be able to stall the aliens for a very long time.”
“Maybe we should try to collapse the stairwell with a few well-placed grenades?” Kicker asked. “Since we already agreed the mechs are going to fall, eventually.”
“Grenades won’t do the trick,” Praxter said. “They’re designed to impart the maximum fragmentation damage possible. They’re not demolition blocks.”
“Then we’ll use demo blocks,” Kicker said. “I know a few of you transferred some from your mech storage compartments.”
“That’s not a bad idea,” Rade said. “Place some blocks at strategic spots along the ceiling, but don’t detonate them yet. Save it as a last resort so that you collapse the stairwell on as many Draactals as possible. Also, I’d suggest moving these bodies…” Rade nodded at the Draactal corpses. “Pile them into the upper portion of the stairwell and form a makeshift barrier until you decide to blow the ceiling. As more of the incoming Draactals fall, their bodies will become part of an ever-growing barrier. You might not even need to collapse the roof at that point. Anyway, I’ll be back.”
Rade rushed down the stairs with Tahoe, Bender, Snakeoil, and Rex.
Halfway to the next floor, the scouting team led by Scotts returned, much to Rade’s relief.
“It’s clear for the next five levels,” Scotts said. “What news on the colonists?”
“We weren’t able to contact them,” Rade said. “And the airlock was too damaged to allow entry. I want to take these men down to an undamaged airlock and then enter.”
Scotts nodded. “Permission granted. Check on the colonists. There’s no point in staying, giving up our lives, if the colonists are all already dead. If I don’t hear from you, I’ll send someone down to get you when the aliens arrive.”
“Understood,” Rade said. “We’ll mark the airlock with a beam notch.”
He continued down the stairwell with Tahoe, Snakeoil, Bender and Rex while Scotts climbed up with the other team.
They soon passed out of range of the rest of the platoon.
The next two airlocks weren’t as badly damaged as the previous, but the aliens had still caused enough damage to break the outer seal, rendering them useless.
The third airlock on the floor below was intact.
“Snakeoil, anything?” Rade asked.
“I’m still broadcasting,” Snakeoil said. “No response on any channels.”
“Cyclone, mark it,” Rade said.
Tahoe fired his laser rifle in rapid succession at the metal wall next to the airlock. He formed eight quick bore holes, vaguely reminiscent of a moth.
“Door marked,” Tahoe said.
Rade nodded. “Bender, Rex, the manual access, if you please.”
Bender and Rex knelt next to the opposite side of the door, and removed a panel in the wall. There was a manual airlock ratchet here, meant for emergency workers.
The pair turned the wheel with the ratchet, slowly opening the airlock. A crack appeared, and Rade heard a small hiss as the air equalized.
When the twin doors were big enough to wedge past, the team members squeezed inside the airlock compartment. Bender and Rex opened another panel, and proceeded to ratchet the doors closed again.
“That should do it,” Bender said when the ratchet refused to move any further. “Should I activate the vent valve?”
“Do it,” Rade said.
Bender opened up the valve in question, and the yellow hue of the room slowly cleared as the air was sucked out through vents near the floor.
“The external atmosphere is clear,” Snakeoil said.
Rade nodded. “Close the vents, and open the release valve.”
Bender closed the vent valve, and then turned another beside it. White mist rushed into the compartment. After a few moments that mist was no longer visible, though Bender hadn’t yet closed the valve.
“Atmosphere is breathable,” Snakeoil said.
“Close the valve,” Rade told Bender.
His friend did so.
Bender and Rex slid aside another panel on the far side of the airlock, and proceeded to ratchet open the inner hatch. When a crack appeared, there was no hiss or sudden rush of air—a good sign.
“Stay clear of the doors,” Rade said.
As the twin doors opened wider, Rade and the others stayed beyond the edges, keeping out of view of any occupants within; Rade was worried not just about potential attacks from Draactals, but also nervous colonists.
“I’m getting a reply to my hail, finally,” Snakeoil said. “It’s the colonists.”
“Tell them not to shoot,” Rade said. “Tell them friends are coming inside.”
29
But Rade needn’t have worried about any attacks. When he entered after Rex and Tahoe, shining his bright weapon light into the faces of the colonists, who quickly shielded their eyes, he realized they were all unarmed.
Rade lowered the weapon, pointing it at the floor, and made room for Bender and Snakeoil behind him. The weapon light reflected off the floor, providing enough light to illuminate a small circle of people gathered around him.
Though the air was breathable, Rade was reluctant to remove his helmet. From past experiences, he knew that biocontagions could contaminate even the most innocent seeming environs.
“Keep your faceplates sealed,” Rade said.
The colonists could see he was human through his helmet glass anyway. They might have suspected a deception, of course, since it was possible to change how one’s features looked by activating the one-way OLED display built into the composite. Assuming the colonists actually knew about that. He wasn’t too concerned either way at the moment.
&nb
sp; He activated his external speaker system. “I’m Rade Galaal, chief of Alpha Platoon, MOTH Team Seven. Who’s in charge here?”
“No one is, we’re just citizens,” a tall man said, coming forward. His hair was matted, as if he had been sweating, and he had a thick layer of stubble on his face, much like the other male colonists nearby. “Are you here to rescue us?”
“We’re here to update you,” Rade said. “And protect you, until the cavalry comes.”
“I told you they wouldn’t abandon us, Cornelius,” a pretty woman said, gripping the man’s hand.
But Cornelius squeezed his jaw defiantly, and said: “So update us, then. We’ve been stuck here in the dark without food for twelve hours. And water is running low. We had to stop flushing the toilets hours ago.”
“How many of you are here?” Rade asked.
“Two hundred and sixteen,” Cornelius replied.
“Sounds crowded,” Rex commented over the private channel.
“So, your update?” Cornelius pressed.
“I’m afraid I don’t have good news,” Rade told him. “The city has been overrun by aliens. Draactals. The army divisions are pinned on rooftops several neighborhoods away, and the fleet is on the defensive in orbit.”
“No doubt the United Systems is sending reinforcements?” the woman beside him asked.
Rade nodded. “Yes, but they will still take time to arrive. The Slipstream in this system alone is five days away.”
“But we only have enough oxygen for another two and a half days!” she said, her voice cracking.
Cornelius hugged her reassuringly with one arm.
“The fleet will prevail in orbit,” Rade said. “And they will return in time to evacuate you, or replenish your oxygen supplies.”
Cornelius was quiet for a moment. Then: “You’re here… so have the aliens penetrated as well?”
“They have,” Rade said. He refused to lie to these people. They deserved to know the truth. “I have a platoon deployed a few floors up. We’re going to fend off any Draactals that come.”
