by John Walker
He dashed, moving faster than she anticipated he could. Lysa grunted as she thrust the pole at him, catching him in the gut. He batted it aside and kept coming. Maintaining her grip proved a challenge but she spun in a circle to gain some momentum, bringing the pole up this time.
A dull thump shook the pole as she slammed it into his shoulder. He grabbed it this time, yanking it from her hands. Tossing it on the ground, he pressed his hand against the injured spot, tilting his head. He muttered something in his language the translator didn’t pick up.
Lysa continued to back away, looking around frantically for another weapon. Her pistols were on the other side of the room. Her device on the altar beeped several times, indicating it had finished the download. Thank God for small miracles… I guess. She circled back toward the altar, stepping over debris.
He slowed to negotiate the scattered treasures. When he looked down, Lysa made a run for it, hurdling the bigger pieces of junk. Her opponent grunted then bayed like a yak before rushing her. The carnage behind her filled her head with images of priceless objects being tossed in all directions, trashed in the wake of his wild fury.
Lysa dove, arms extended over her head. She came down hard on the floor, knocking the wind out of herself but it didn’t slow her down. The weapon rested a few feet away. She coughed, shuffling toward it. Her fingers felt numb, her chest burning as she struggled to draw a breath.
Her fingers touched the weapon. She dragged it toward herself. Meaty hands grabbed her back, dragging her to her feet. He turned her toward him. Drool coated his chin as he started moving, his face splitting in a creepy smile. His tongue danced in his mouth as if it were a sentient being all its own.
Lysa pressed her pistol to his chest. She looked him in the eyes. He looked dead. There was no shimmer, no life to them. Just raw hunger, like an animal.
You probably needed help, Lysa thought. Sorry. She pulled the trigger. Three times, five… his grip finally loosened. She dropped to her feet, firing again and again. He stumbled, brow furrowed while he dropped to his knees.
Lysa shuffled back from him before pointing directly at his face. She shot again. This time, he went down, falling on his side with an expired sigh. As all the tension left him, he looked like a different creature. Peaceful somehow. A giant without any sense. The question remained of how he’d walked up on her so quietly.
She bent at the waist to catch her breath. Kyle burst into the room with his rifle aimed. “What happened?” He asked. His eyes fell to the body. “Who the hell is he? Are you okay?”
“The download’s done,” Lysa gestured to the key, “so that’s cool.”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“Let’s just say I’m alive… which is probably a miracle considering what he took to kill.” Lysa collected her weapons before returning to the altar. “Let me get this ready for transport. However we’re getting out of here, we should get to it. I’m ready to leave this place forever.”
Chapter 12
Vesper ventured into the hallway. Sounds from the right drew her attention; a strange tapping. As she paced closer, she found an ajar door on the opposite side of the room where Lysa worked. She peeked in, drawing back when she caught sight of five people working at the wall.
What the hell are they doing? Two more individuals rounded the corner on the opposite side, coming her direction. She ducked inside, aiming her weapon at the others. They were wearing headsets, which gave her some hope they had translators. Nothing quite like trying to take prisoners when there’s a language barrier.
Of the five people, only two of them wore armor and the pieces were mismatched, a hodgepodge of steel gray and gold. They were armed, though only the armored ones kept their weapons at the ready. None of them watched the door, which showed a level of criminal incompetence.
The other looked like technicians dressed in overalls, tall boots, and tool belts. Whether they genuinely worked on the Flotilla or happened to be engineers for some other ship, she had no idea. They seemed to be working on some sort of bomb, though. At least that was her assumption based on the flickering red lights on the thing.
“Do not move!” Vesper enunciated clearly. She trained her weapon on the two who should’ve been watching the door. “Don’t even think about it for a second. I will end you. Drop your guns! Now!”
The left soldier spun, prepping a hip shot. Vesper put a blast in his head, tossing him into his buddies. The chirp made the other dive for cover. She shot him in the leg before he hit the ground to return fire. His couple shots drove her toward the door where she took a knee, tapping the trigger three times in his direction.
The others started screaming, letting out bloodcurdling cries. Vesper risked a glance to see what the hell happened to them. Did they catch on fire? The fact they were freaking out didn’t make any sense. Until she noticed one of them kneeling on the floor, blood pumping from their wrist.
In all the shooting, she hadn’t noticed that one of their bombs went off. The worst victim of the blast seemed to lose both hands. Another had bones sticking in his face. Gore coated the final one, splashed all over their face, matting their hair. At least they’re out of the fight while they do… whatever they’re going to do.
Vesper slipped into the hall. She glanced in the direction of where she saw the others. The door to Lysa’s room was open. Damn! A couple shots blasted out toward her, narrowly missing as they slapped the wall directly behind her. She figured he had to have put them near her face, probably by her shoulder.
She took cover against the wall to consider her next course of action. Rush back to Lysa or finish the fight with this guy? Would he stop to help his friends or come after her? Whatever the case, I need to support my people. This fight is pointless. And they screwed up the breach anyway.
The screams continued within the room though now they were hoarse. Vesper stood, making a dash for the other door.
Pain exploded in her left shoulder. The tunnel blurred. Her HUD lit up, showing red letters she couldn’t read as she fell. All sound tunneled for half a second then came rushing back when her armor clattered against the metal deck.
Scans showed massive damage to the armor plate on her back. Her left arm went numb. She knew whoever blasted her would likely deliver a coup de grace at any moment. Sweat instantly covered her chest and face as she screamed, rolling to the right.
Firing her rifle one-handed, she took her attacker out at the knees. He dropped, returning fire. This blast got her in the hip. Her HUD again went nuts, indicating catastrophic damage to her defenses. She pulled the trigger as fast as her finger would move, grouping every blast in the man’s torso.
The weapon grew hot until she felt it through her armor. She finally stopped when she saw through his chest cavity. Shoving to her feet, she glanced in both directions. Her original opponent remained in the room with the wounded. She kept her weapon trained on that place as she stumbled for her allies.
The HUD let her know she suffered from some compression bleeding along with a nasty set of bruises. “Shit… can you guys hear me?” Vesper struggled to swallow. Her throat went dry. “Anyone on comms at all? Hello?”
“Some ass clown attacked Lysa!” Kyle called. “Where were you?”
“Getting shot myself,” Vesper replied. “Is she okay?”
“She will be. What about you?”
“I’m fine. Do we have a ride out of here?”
“Kind of. Not the best choice, but I guess it’s better than staying here.”
Vesper made it to their door, stepping in. She leaned against the wall, hissing from the pain in her shoulder. “Christ… that hurts. Is the download done?”
“Yeah,” Lysa replied. “We’re good. I can take a look—”
“Not now,” Vesper interrupted. “Let’s reach out to Niva. Find out what they’re doing and if we’re leaving with the Manager’s ride.” She motioned to the door. “There’s a guy out there with a gun still so one of you should keep an eye. In c
ase he comes looking for me. They were going to blow a hole through the wall… or trying to.”
“Is that the weird pop I heard?” Kyle asked. “Did it not get them through?”
Vesper huffed. “Let’s just say one of them won’t ever play the piano again. Reach out. We need to prep for extraction ASAP.” Before we have to deal with more assholes causing trouble.
***
Niva took Quilla’s place at the terminal. She brought up the long-range communicator. Fortunately, the Flotilla maintained a reasonable FTL burst emitter. She had no idea where the Brekka might be, but a coded signal could be sent with their system ID. It may not get there right away but it was better than nothing.
She kept the message to text in order to make it smaller. Maybe this will get it there quicker. “Molush, Griel, see the attached coordinates. That’s where the Flotilla stopped. We may need help. We’re trying to get out of here on our own. It may not work out.” She concluded the message with her personal credentials, to prove her identity.
The message showed green, indicating it dispatched. Other screens flickered to red, showing offline. Different services throughout the station turned off from some other source. A technical center with overriding authority to the admin module. Most of them involved security, cameras and motion sensors.
Weapon fire erupted behind her. The fight began. Niva needed to join them but hesitated. One of the screens indicated a module had been released. That can’t be right.
“Quilla!” Niva shouted. “Can you come here?”
“A little busy…” Quilla grumbled. He came regardless. “There are a lot of people in the hall trying to get in here.”
“I know,” Niva replied, “but does this mean what I think it does? Are they breaking parts of the station off?”
Quilla squinted at the screens. He checked several others. “It does!” He slapped the console. “Those bastards are untethering hangars! I thought these two were part of the original structure as well! What is going on? What are they doing?”
“I…” Niva shrugged. “Why maroon us here? They have to know we’d turn on them.”
“We have to deal with the forces in the hall.” Quilla gestured. “Come on!”
Niva clenched her fists. He was right. None of it would matter if the enemy got to them. Tiller crouched on the left firing down the hall with Milna supporting him. Alon was on the opposite side with Jok. There wasn’t a lot of room for more to get involved but she took a look, poking her weapon between Tiller and the wall.
Enemy forces kept to their own cover, making the angle hard to get at them. A few bodies littered the hallway. Not enough to have made a big dent in their numbers. Niva backed away, clapping Tiller on the shoulder.
“Get to the corner, stay low and aim at the door.” She nodded to Milna to join him. “Alon, you’re on the opposite side.” As they got into position, she stood off center from the door, crouched and aiming. The enemy continued to root around out there for almost a minute before they must’ve realized they were no longer under attack.
Andrews remained out of the way. He held a pistol, ready but not participating at the moment. We may need him to fly us out of here. Depending on what we end up with.
A few inarticulate grunts brought them closer. The first one through died in an instant, shot by five rifles. They dropped on the floor, their feet still in the room. A woman yelled, “They can’t get us all! Prepare to charge!”
Niva braced herself for it. They had the advantage, funneling them through two at a time. There were enough of the enemy forces to take them down… providing they agreed to take their chances with whether or not they’d be the one to die. It all came down to how clearly they were thinking.
And how much they valued self-preservation.
“Go!” Several shouted at once. The fight was seconds from starting. A high-pitched squeal burst from the overhead speakers, ripping through the entire station. It gave everyone pause. Niva frowned, risking a glance at the console behind her. Someone opened a channel to the entire station.
“Attention. This is Custodian Four. As you are all in the middle of wasting time trying to kill each other, you may not have noticed that we have untethered all but a handful of starships. You are stranded here.”
“What?” Jok grunted, checking his computer. “He’s right. My tag on our ship shows it’s in a new position.”
“We can bring them back, allowing you to depart—however, before that happens, I need you all to work together toward a common cause. You will defend this station against a Kahl invasion force and preserve our freedom from them. Seeing as how you are all so eager to shoot one another, you can use those guns for me.”
“What’s he talking about?” Jok asked. “What invasion force?”
“Watch the door,” Niva said. She brought up the station scanners. Her shoulders tensed as she took in a battleship. They must’ve tracked us. “That one.” She pointed. “Looks like one of their real cruisers.”
“As I’m sure you would all like to survive, you will fight your best. Our automated turrets will keep us safe at least from casual attacks. If they go all out, we will not survive. That’s also where you come in. Please ensure we are not taken. That is all. Good luck, and we’ll be in touch soon.”
“Look!” Quilla gestured to one of the screens. A ship launched; a massive luxury liner. The silver hull caught the light, glistening as it rocketed away. Whatever hangar it used must’ve been part of the original design.
Then it dawned on Niva. The Manager’s ship! Did he take Kyle and the others with them? I hope they weren’t stupid enough to leave like that. The Kahl ship practically appeared on top of them. Their pilot would have to be incredible to get away without capture or destruction.
Niva hailed the ship. “Attention! What are you doing? Return to the station at once. There’s a Kahl battleship barreling down on us. You can’t possibly—”
“Sorry, girl,” the Manager interrupted. He sounded incredibly smug. “I’m afraid I had to get out of there before your friends returned. I’m sure you understand. It’s nothing personal. I just didn’t want to be burdened with you when you undoubtedly planned to turn me in to the authorities.”
“You pile of filth!” Niva hammered her fist on the console. “We planned to work with you! Let you go for helping us! What do you think will happen now? You’ve abandoned several key personnel from our—”
“I don’t care,” the Manager chuckled. “You’re all done. That ship won’t get me. With the Custodian dead, the station’s no good anymore either. Therefore, all I can say to you is… farewell, my fine young lady. Farewell.” The line went dead.
“Vesper, do you copy? Lysa?”
“We’re here,” Lysa replied, “we had a bit of a situation. The Manager took his ship and ran!”
“We just saw. I assume you heard Custodian Four’s request?”
“I’m guessing we’re not down for that?” Kyle asked.
“No.” Niva hummed. “Standby.” She approached the door. “Listen out there. I don’t think any of you want to fight the Kahl. No idea why you came down here… don’t really care. But how about we call a truce? Seems like we all need a way off this station as soon as possible. I’d say our best bet is to work toward that.”
“Prytin scum,” a woman’s voice spat, carrying more hatred than Niva heard from blood enemies. “You think we’re going to let you sneak out of there? We want the treasure room, and we want a ship. Quilla’s will do. Since he sided with you lot, he’s given up his life. Send him out for judgment and we’ll leave.”
“That’s absurd,” Niva said. “He worked with us because he wants to get out of here as much as you do. I’m not sending anyone out. Do you want to die here today? There are plenty of ships out there, we just need to get our hands on them. So… will you back off or do we get back to shooting?”
Milna approached. She leaned close to Niva, “This is a waste of time.”
“What do you propose?” Ni
va asked.
“I’ll take care of it.” Milna stepped toward the hall.
“Wait!” Niva reached for her too late. She moved too fast. Dammit!
***
Milna had no idea what the point of negotiation was anyway. The Prytins were fierce enough fighters but she never doubted why they hadn’t won the war yet. They liked to talk; to work things out in what they called ‘civilized’ ways. Often, if they simply pulled a trigger, they might end a situation far more efficiently.
She stepped into the hallway. Guns lifted from six people on the left and eight on the right. Their leader, a dark-haired woman, stood closest.
Milna removed her helmet, tossing it on the floor. Their eyes met. “Listen. All the rest of you, I mean, not her. We have better things to do than listen to scum. You all know it. This Custodian Four wants to extort you into doing some specific work. None of you are interested. Therefore, I have a proposal.”
“Don’t listen to her!” the woman shouted, turning in place. “You know what I promised!”
“Promised,” Milna said, “without delivery. Yet I can deliver.” She motioned with her head. “I’ll show you to the treasure you seek. You can take as much as you want. I’ve got the only thing I came for which is my companions. Now. To help make your decision simpler…” Milna lifted her gun, blasting the woman in the face.
The other pirates recoiled. Most stiffened, taking a step closer with their weapons. The body dropped. The man standing nearest the dead woman wiped bits of her skull from his face.
“Now you can make up your own minds,” Milna said, “without her raving. After all, how many people do you need to tell you what to do?”
That last line set them off. They cried out, throwing their arms over their heads. None of them aimed their weapons at her anymore. She picked up her helmet again, tucking it under her arm as she backed down the hallway.
