***
Yellow lights flashed along the dark windowless corridor and a low siren wailed. As if they needed a reminder of the danger. To their credit, most of the children remained calm. The walls shuddered from the weapons fire outside, but the attackers wouldn’t risk blowing up the ship with their own people on board. At least that’s what Jayson told himself. What worried him more was who these attackers were. Athens was a known Confederate hotspot, but he’d expected to be dodging drones until he could speak to the Fletcher assassins. He’d been going to join them, instead he’d taken the students away from the Academy’s defences. Idiot. He should have seen it coming.
He herded the children down the narrow passage from the cockpit to the crew quarters. The kids bunched up around the bunks and kitchen, a few even grabbed a quick snack. No sign of any Fletchers yet. Good. Jayson waded through the mass of children and flung open a set of lockers on the wall. It was filled with Academy jumpsuits. He pulled them out and threw them over the heads of the children.
‘Put these on, quick!’ he ordered. They didn’t need any further encouragement.
Jayson strode over to the spiral passage leading down to the engineering section. From the corner of the wall he selected a compact rapid-fire machine gun, which could be wielded one-handed, and a knife as long as his forearm. It was straight and sharp, made for stabbing.
‘Divide yourselves up,’ he said. ‘Those of you six and under, barricade yourselves in my quarters down the hall.’ He pointed the way they had come. ‘Seven to ten; stand guard by the cockpit as a last line of defence.’ He looked at the taller children one by one. ‘The rest of you, pick a weapon and come with me,’ he finished, and led the way to face the Fletchers. A dozen children, dressed in Academy jumpsuits two sizes too big followed at his back.
Jayson picked his way down the staircase, the sub-machine gun held out in front of him as he tried to peer around the curved inner wall before taking the next step. His hand wavered under the weight of the gun, so he sheathed the knife in his belt and brought his palm up to steady his aim. It wouldn’t look good to show fear in front of the children. They needed an example. Behind him, he could hear them removing guns off the wall. A few argued. ‘Leave the Stunners, we’re going to kill these sons of-’
‘Quiet!’ Jayson commanded. He took another step and the silver reflection of a sword cut across his path, lodging into the wall on his right. It took him the space of a heartbeat to realise there was a camouflaged Fletcher standing two steps down from him who had lunged ahead at the sound of voices.
A blue Stunner blast followed up the sword and Jayson dodged left, inside its aim. The shot seared past him and caught the first kid in the knees. He collapsed in a twitching heap. Those further behind gasped, others snarled in anger.
Jayson returned fire. His sub-machine gun peppered the walls with lead. Splotches of red splattered in every direction, and the outline of a cloaked Fletcher assassin slumped against the bulkhead. Jayson checked the clip in his gun. One third depleted. Damn. He checked the walls of the spiral staircase. They were stripped bare; his miniature army had claimed every weapon. There was one spare ammo magazine, Jayson snatched it up and pocketed it. Damn these antiques. What I wouldn’t give for some grenades about now.
‘Okay listen up kids. Do exactly as I say and I’ll get you back to the Academy.’ A dozen wide frightened eyes nodded dumbly back at him. ‘We’re going to clear the engineering deck before they can do any damage. Stay close to the walls; scan the corners of the room and watch for their jumpsuit shimmer. You see movement, shoot first.’
Jayson hefted his gun with one hand, pulled out his knife in the other and held it backwards while balancing his gun. He took three quick breaths, charged through the doorway, stumbled and hit the deck. The children ran over him, shouting as they fanned out into the engineering room.
Jayson had collided with a Fletcher, come to follow up his comrade. Jayson’s leg kicked out, contacting the Fletcher square on the back where his toe became stuck under a protruding metal socket.
The Fletcher panicked, flailing his arms around trying to get Jayson’s foot off his back. Jayson straightened his leg to keep him away. The Fletcher aimed a crossbow around his body, pointing back at Jayson.
‘Silly weapon for close quarters,’ Jayson said, and flicked his knife hand down. The taut wire of the crossbow severed and whiplashed around, catching Jayson over the eye. He snapped his head back in pain and fired the sub-machine gun, hitting the Fletcher on the shoulder.
Jayson tore his foot free and put his knife at the man’s throat. He hesitated as he glanced up at the engineering bay. The children were dying around him. Their oversized jumpsuits hindered their effectiveness, making them easy targets. Invisible assassins stepped out of the shadows and broke their tiny necks, or plummeted from the upper deck like a sack of bricks to crush their fragile bodies. Jayson turned away, unable to watch. He could hear their high-pitched screams as a Fletcher kicked children out of the hull breach, silenced as they were flung out over the open ocean.
Jayson still held his knife at a Fletcher’s throat. ‘You can’t win,’ the assassin whispered. ‘Sir Fletcher is coming. He will find you soon. Don’t throw your life away with these scum.’
Jayson tried to ignore him. He requested a direct channel to the cockpit through his iPC. ‘Julie, are you still there?’
Her voice came back in sharp bursts, full of fear. A thumping noise could be heard in the background. ‘They’re at the door, Jayson. There’s no one else left.’
‘Open the cargo bay doors, Julie,’ Jayson said, keeping his voice level.
‘But... but our altitude! You’re still in there. You won’t-’
‘Julie, it’s over. Do it!’
The banging in the background stopped with a final crash. Julie screamed and the comm went dead. The cargo bay doors opened.
Jayson let the Fletcher go and jammed his knife into a crack in the deck plating. The assassin flipped head over heels as the air blew him out of the rear of the plane along with anything else not tied down. Dead students were flung outside, nothing more than leaves blowing in the wind. A thick fog developed as water vapour in the air condensed. All sound was drowned by the roaring of the wind, and Jayson felt as though he were in a hurricane.
A couple of Fletchers, finished with their killing frenzy, had the presence of mind to have their suits clamp down on the floor, securing them from a similar fate. Jayson took aim at them with his sub-machine gun, but the bullets bounced off them in every direction. How...? Jayson gaped. A flaring purple bubble surrounded them. The Fletchers advanced on him with swords gleaming, one slow footstep at a time against the wind.
The intense pressure pulled a bulkhead free. The heavy metal strut hurtled at the Fletchers. They ducked. A clean miss. Jayson swore. The bulkhead lodged onto another strut on the roof. Jayson took aim and launched himself off the floor. He slammed into it chest first and wrapped his arms around it, his legs dangling out the back of the aircraft. He aimed his gun at the backs of the Fletchers, who were too slow to turn with their boots clamped to the deck. He fired. The first bullets pinged off the purple bubble as it flared but he finally struck through at the power packs. Their magnetic connection broke away from the floor, sending the Fletchers tumbling outside.
Jayson clambered over the strut and hit the manual override at the head of the ramp. It closed up and the noise died. He tried the comm but got no response. Jayson was left to catch his breath, alone once again.
Scout's Honour Page 9
