It somewhat abruptly decided to carry me up to the ceiling. The constant breath-stealing pressure let up, and just like that I was being dragged up the slimy, fleshy wall. I was glad to be able to move more freely, but being pressed between its body and the living wall of the ceiling wasn't really a whole lot better than being crushed by its claws.
The shift in position was enough to expose some of its legs to my sword, however. I was only able to use my wrist to generate power, but Bandersnatch still sliced out like the poisonous viper it really was and cut off several of the thing’s legs in just two short strokes.
At this, the creature paused in its siren shriek long enough to roar angrily at me before resuming its previous call.
It was doing something to my midsection, but whatever it was didn’t penetrate the battle suit, for which I was immensely grateful. If it weren’t for this suit, I would have been dead ten times over. That's just counting my time on the bug ship! Whatever his current grudge against me, Chief Engineer Spalding had done me a very good turn when he refurbished this power armor. Without it, I would certainly be dead.
Of course, I decided after a moment’s consideration, without it I would have been less willing to take half the risks I had so far and almost certainly wouldn’t be in this dire situation. Still, those were my failings, and most certainly not a reflection on the Chief.
When the big Bug let go of me and jumped down to the floor, I was surprised. When I didn’t immediately fall down after it, I was confused. Flailing my limbs, I realized I was stuck to the ceiling. My arms and legs were just as fee as any other captive the Bugs had on this ship.
I looked down. My mid-section was covered with one of those living straps the Bugs used to keep their captives in place. Pushing against the ceiling with my elbows and legs did nothing except flex the strap like a piece of elastic, which actually caused the infernal thing to squeeze tight.
I gasped for air, struggling with the exertion. These straps were almost as strong as the creature that put me here.
I considered just hanging out up here and waiting for a while to see if help arrived. Even though they were Bugs, I was sick of all this life and death, hand to hand action. There had to be a better way. After a moment, I dismissed a rescue as a fool's dream. If anyone was going to save me, it had to be myself.
Besides, there was no way I was staying up here like a fly on the wall while it finished eating one captive and started on another. I figured I’d make it up here, on the 'let's all just hang out' plan, until it went after me or another living food source, and then I’d have to come down anyway. So sooner was better than later.
I eyed the creature before carefully placing my heels on the somewhat less-slimy surface of the ceiling. I didn’t want to exert any pressure that would cause the strap to tighten, I just wanted to be ready to push off later when it was time.
As well positioned as a man in battle armor, hanging off the ceiling by a super strong strap of living tissue wrapped around his waist could be, I carefully raised Bandersnatch and angled it so that it would cut across most of the strap in one swipe.
In one swift motion, I was free. There was a sucking sound as the weight of the armor pulled me out of the ceiling, and I pushed off with my heels. One arm was raised to either break my fall or shield my face, the other poised with the blade, ready to slice open the giant Bug.
I was painfully reminded, once again, that I had only taken a two week course in power armor use and wasn’t a trained battle suit operator when I fell short of the bug and landed with a thump. For the very first time, I was grateful for the living floor of the bug ship. Because while I left a big indent where I crash landed, nothing was broken during the fall, especially not my all-too-exposed head or neck.
Somehow in all the confusion, I lost the head bag. I only realized this when stench of the bug floor reached my nostrils. Ignoring the evil smell, I scrambled to my feet and brought the sword up into position.
As if seeing me for the first time, the huge creature once again started screaming, and I realized the head bag had actually muffled its awful voice just a little. Now I got the full siren effect, and I have to say I wasn’t very pleased.
This time when the super Bug charged me, I was ready. With a cry, I jumped to the side and slashed a wide swath, severing almost half its legs on one side. Its momentum kept it going until it slammed into the wall, where it bounced off further than I anticipated, and reoriented quickly before coming back at me again.
This time, when I tried to make like a matador, I wasn’t just going for its legs. I was going to try and take off its head. Unfortunately, when I dodged to the side this time it was ready for me and tried to mirror my motion.
Who ever said a Bug can’t learn new tricks?
Its move caught me off-guard and instead of taking the thing in the neck, I only managed to cut off the top of its head before it caught hold of me and slammed us against the wall.
“Not again,” I gasped, before seeing the top of its head was gone. Inside, I could see what looked to me like insectoid brains (I had never before seen insectoid brains, but I was willing to bet that this was what they looked like). The creature was still very much active, however. Actively writhing and trying to crush me against the wall, that is. It also had regained a hold of my arms with its claws.
Everything hurt, but the sight of its brains gave me an idea. I grunted and strained to overpower its insect arms, and reached for its head with my gauntleted hands. It fought me the whole way. Not with any indication it understood what I was trying to do, but in the same mindless way these creatures had done everything else since I had arrived.
Still, the power armor clinched the deal; I managed after what must have been a full minute of struggle to force my hand into what passed for the thing’s head. I grabbed some of the brain-like substance and made a fist, then swirled my hand around inside the cavity the best I could.
The creature went into a frenzy of motion, and before I knew it I was thrown into the air and once again landed with a thump. The raw power in its body was truly remarkable.
As I gathered myself and then staggered to my feet, I watched as it writhed and rolled around on the floor like a snake with its head cut off. Although now that I thought about it, the creature seemed more like a chicken. A chicken will run around, blood pumping from the hole in its neck where its head used to be until it suddenly keeled over, seemingly coming to grips with its own demise. I had seen a headless chicken run all the way around a barn before realizing it was dead and abruptly calling it quits. At least, I thought I had.
Yes, I finally decided as the creature slammed into a wall and started rolling again; it acted more like a chicken than a snake.
Of course, it could have just lost its vision or smell or whatever Bugs used to get around and started thrashing because it was suddenly in the dark. Then, bolstering my fowl assessment, it abruptly stopped moving and went limp, just like a chicken. ‘Guess that answers that,’ I thought.
My shoulders slumped and I went to lean against a wall. I ached in places I never knew I could ache before, and any place that didn’t ache felt like it was bruised. I needed to take a moment and leaned my head forward. White fire lanced up and down my neck. I groaned in agony and stumbled, catching myself against the wall I was leaning on.
The natives started babbling at me again in their strange way, but I couldn’t make heads or tails what they were saying. Of course, I wasn’t in the best shape right now, and I never claimed to be an expert at primitive linguistics.
Without looking up, I deduced that they probably expected me to cut them loose immediately, if not sooner. I took a glance, and my suspicions were immediately confirmed. They were all gesturing at their belts made of Bug ship wall, and making cutting movements while pointing to my sword.
There was even a redhead who had somehow lost her shirt trying to motion me over. I blushed as my eyes quite naturally went where they weren’t supposed to go and I hastily looked a
way. My eyes kept wanting to stray back to the surprisingly impressive display, but I tried to focus on something else instead.
I ended up looking at another woman beside the red head. My eyes just didn’t want to get that far away from the forbidden fruit. This one seemed to be the only one not yelling at me and demanding I free them and make everything all right. She was blond and I supposed beautiful, if you like icy features and eyes that bored right through you like a high-powered laser.
She wore a look that didn’t so much say 'you are worthless and I’m ignoring you,' as seem to ask the question of if I was worth paying any attention to in the first place. I was intrigued.
Chapter 25: Hate At First Sight
However, considering I had just smashed a giant bug monster and was about to free her (and the rest of the natives), it seemed an inconsiderate look to be throwing my direction, especially considering I was an Admiral personally present on a rescue mission.
Of course, she didn’t know that. That is to say, none of them actually knew I was an Admiral, but even a primitive native had to know I was the man who had just saved them. You’d think I would get a little credit. I glanced at the other natives who were the most squirming and demanding bunch of people I had ever seen. There was no gratitude there, either. Only a desperate, frothing need to get free.
I sighed. Oh well, it was just a look, and the rest of this bunch of primitives seemed worse. Noisier at least. I shouldn’t be making snap judgments about a culture based on a few abused prisoners in a bug ship, I reminded myself.
I had just taken the first step toward cutting the prisoners free when a furious chittering sound came through the now sundered portal. “Saint Murphy,” I muttered, whirling around to face the doorway. “What next?”
The insectoid Bugs didn’t clatter or clank against the walls, floor or ceiling. The living material of which the ship was made was a substance that cushioned and absorbed the sound of their feet.
If they had acted a little more intelligently, they could have snuck up on me completely undetected. Fortunately, instead of intelligently advancing on my position, they sounded more furious and enraged. And they were getting closer by the moment. Say what you will about these Bugs and their intelligence, they are unequivocally fast when traversing the passages of this slimy, putrid vessel.
No sooner had I run back to check the entrance to the chamber when the first clawed soldier bug arrived.
My reflexes caused Bandersnatch to flash out more quickly than I expected, so quickly that I almost lost my footing as the blade sliced neatly through the midsection of the creature, rendering it a chittering mass of oozing, nasty chitin. But there were more where that one came from. Lots more. I slashed and parried, stabbed and smashed at the doorway to the room, careful not to give ground, lest the mindless beasts pour through the room in overwhelming numbers. At least here, at the only obvious entrance to the chamber, I could kill them as quickly as they arrived.
A Prince-Cadet of the Caprian realm wasn’t supposed to be standing in the doorway of a Bug ship trying to save a bunch of helpless natives, I despaired. (The aforementioned natives had, predictably, resumed their panicked thrashing and wailing in that odd language of theirs.) I wasn’t supposed to be battling for my life against a torrent of Bugs, I thought as the bodies kept piling up. I was supposed to be wrapped in silk, closely monitored and generally scorned by everyone I came into contact with.
When the bodies of the ship's green-shelled defenders blocked the door, the Bugs paused to pull the corpses of their fallen comrades back out into the corridor. Then they came back with a vengeance.
I hacked and stabbed, slashing for everything I was worth, but this time the Bugs had a new tactic. In addition to a second horde of angry claw-clacking soldiers, a number of furiously chittering tool-wielders poured through the top of the gory flesh-door.
Hanging up-side-down from the ceiling didn’t slow down the little cut-wheel wielding Bugs at all, I noticed with horror.
I managed to hack through one of the smaller ones as it passed overhead before slashing through another angry soldier. But for every small Bug I was getting, two more escaped through the top of the door.
Without the larger Bugs to hold me down, I wasn’t too worried about the tool-wielders right now. But not all the smaller ones coming through the door, equipped with crystal tipped cutting wheels, were trying to jump onto my back. Several were heading toward the natives still imprisoned by the flesh-bands attached to the walls of the ship.
There was no way I could hold the soldiers at the doorway and stop the cutter Bugs at the same time. At least not the ones that had already slipped by me and were heading towards the prisoners. Any little bug that tried to come at me directly was just waiting to get skewered.
Putting thought to action, I stepped on a cutter bug that had dropped from the ceiling and apparently tried to land on my unguarded head. The crunch it made under my armored boot was deeply satisfying, I must admit.
I glared at my sword and glanced at the little Bugs who had almost reached the prisoners by this point. What good was this double-edged boon of a vibroblade if I couldn’t even use it to save the prisoners? What I needed right now was a plasma rifle, now that would really keep the doorway clear and let me intercept the smaller ones that had gotten past, all at the same time.
Sensing movement I jerked to the left and saw a massive claw clamp down where my neck had previously been. I had almost gotten my head taken off by a mindless soldier bug because I wasn’t paying attention to my surroundings. Then an idea occurred to me. Maybe the sword could be used in place of a plasma rifle to free the prisoners and give them a fighting chance against the cut-wheel wielding Bugs.
I didn’t really want the blasted sword, anyways. Well, ok, at that exact moment I actually kind of did want to hang onto the thing, but the prisoners needed it more. I tried to convince myself that I was better off without it, but standing in the way of the seemingly endless horde of killer insects, the thought of losing my only real effective weapon was terrifying.
I gritted my teeth. If I stood by while helpless prisoners were slaughtered, just to save my own skin, then I wasn’t any better than the ancestors who nearly ruined my home world, or the Imperials who had abandoned the citizens of the Confederation after rendering us essentially unable to defend ourselves.
I turned around quickly and drew back my arm for the throw, trying to strike a javelin-hurler's pose. I knew they wouldn’t understand me, but it seemed fitting to say something anyway. “Here, take the cursed thing and cut yourself free,” I snarled in the same secret language I had used to insult the Imperial Captain prior to his disembarkation. It somehow seemed fitting to use a language I was certain they wouldn't understand when casting it away from myself, since I couldn't understand what they were trying to say, either! I guess when I get stressed, I occasionally revert to the secret tongue my mother taught me as a child.
I threw it to the icy blonde because whenever I looked back at the group of prisoners, my eyes naturally sought out the half-naked form of the redhead right beside her. Also, I was momentarily filled with fear that I might accidentally hit the busty red head. It's not like I was trained at throwing swords. “There’s been nothing but trouble ever since I picked it up!" It landed point-down in the floor, with the hilt coming to rest against the wall between the two women.
There, my good deed for the day was done and no one could later say that I was just another self-serving Montagne who would let people die to save his own neck.
The blond woman, while decent enough to look at (if you were into that whole icy disdain thing) just didn’t inspire the same thought clouding emotions as the exposed red head. So it seemed safer to throw the vibro-blade at her and let her save the red head. It just didn't seem proper to risk a helpless, disrobed woman's life at a time like this.
Unfortunately, I took too long getting back in the fight at the entrance to the room (I find no shame in admitting that I was caught
staring at sights better left to private encounters) when I should have been turning around to continue the fight of my life. Instead of some societal matron twisting my ear at a court ball or other ostentatious function, it was a six foot tall killer bug trying to take off my head. The scariest part might have been that I felt certain the critter had designs on what to do with my head after it had been removed from my neck.
After slamming into and knocking me over, the Bug almost got its claws around my exposed neck in the mad scramble that followed. Barely getting an arm up in time, I struggled for all I (and the modified power armor) was worth. Kicking and smashing at anything that moved just wasn’t the same thing as wielding a legendary (albeit dangerous to possess) vibro-weapon. I wasn’t able to kill the bug and free my arm before being swarmed over by another mad rush of soldiers.
A woman shouted in outrage, and I got the odd feeling that it was directed at me. It took a moment to register that I actually understood what was said. “You are offering me a sword at a time like this? A Cursed sword?! What do you take me for, some kind of...” she finished the sentence using a bunch of words I had never heard before.
Admiral Who? (A Spineward Sectors Novel:) Page 23
