by Christi Smit
Christian, however, was trained and fully prepared for such an attack.
“I’m going,” Nathan’s voice rising as his anger grew, “let go of me.”
Locke held on to Nathan’s shoulders, interjecting himself between the angry Titan and the door, casting a glance over his shoulder to Pyoter who was blocking the observation room’s doorway. Pyoter’s size blocked almost the entire doorway, his bulk better than any flimsy iron door.
“Stand down Lieutenant. This is not your fight.” Locke had to hold on tight, Nathan was stronger than he looked, much stronger.
“Captain, give me the order, let me go, this has never happened before.”
Nathan’s face was hidden behind his helmet and mirrored visor, hiding his expression of anger and concern, but Locke knew his second would be difficult to reason with, this had to end now.
“If you can get past Pyoter, you are free to do go.”
Nathan looked towards his captain and gave Pyoter a nod. The nod was something he did regularly, instead of having to speak to anyone.
“No,” the giant said. “You stay, we watch.”
“He is right Lieutenant. We all have to go through this in our own way. Stow your personal feelings before this goes too far.” Locke let go of Nathan’s shoulders. “Have faith in him.”
“I don’t think I can, I lost that ability long ago.” Nathan said nothing for a moment. “Whatever.” he added with a grunt of surrender.
The other Titans, Rivers and Xander, watched in silence, there was no point in interfering with Nathan’s outburst, the captain had dealt with it swiftly enough. They were, however, ready to jump on his back if he forced his way past Pyoter, an impossible task in any case.
Locke looked back at Pyoter as Nathan reluctantly took his seat again.
The giant just shrugged in bewilderment, an awkward sight to behold from a fully armoured Titan, Pyoter’s size making it seem even more awkward.
A voice on the edge of panic broke the silence in Locke’s earpiece. “Captain, you have an incoming transmission from....” The voice trailed off, the person speaking sounded very nervous
“Buck up soldier. A transmission from...? Let me hear it?
The radio operator on the other end swallowed hard. “It’s from the Stygian Council, sir.”
“Oh. Shit.” was all Locke could say.
The force of the blow from the fat monster had broken the wall and hurled both of them deep into the adjoining room. Christian would not be able to regain his footing when they landed because they were almost vertical as they approached the powdery floor.
He knew what he had to do as soon as they hit the ground. The moments seemed to stretch for an eternity before they met the floor. The bone-crushing impact did not surprise Christian, his suit had compensated for the coming impact while in mid-air. The sudden lurch of gravity reasserting itself over their bodies gave him the opportunity to break free from the deadly embrace.
The monsters had no idea of knowing that the Anvil shield on the Titan’s back had more than just the one obvious ability of stopping things. With a word from the Operator the arm mechanism holding the shield in place sprung loose with a shocking blast, causing the entwined pair to bounce like a skipping stone on a quiet pond. The stocky enemy had no grip on the Titan, its club-like limbs unable to hold on with any real strength. The force of the initial connection had made them stick together, but Christian was in no way trapped and the shield manoeuvre had forced them to separate.
He used the separation to bring his knees up and kick the monster in the chest. His armoured boots connected with the beast with a sickening sound, caving in its ribcage with ease. The double kick was enough to fling the fat one backwards, crunching into the gangly one that poured into the room through the new cavity in the wall.
He watched the two scrambling to stand. He had rolled back from the kick, skidding to a halt on all fours. The fat monster was breathing hard, no doubt having punctured lungs from pieces of ribcage wrenched through his vital organs. It struggled to rise, trapping the other beneath it.
He wasted no time. He got to his feet and moved to the mound of squirming mutated flesh. He yanked his blade free from the shoulder of the larger beast with his left hand and plunged it through the forehead of the fat nightmare, it stopped breathing almost instantly. Pulling the blade free of his first kill’s skull he stepped on top of it and brought the heel of his right foot down on the head of the other one. Its head cracked under the sudden pressure, squeezing its brain matter through the cracks of it misshapen skull.
Both were dead silent now, leaking their life blood into the ground of the Labyrinth.
Christian was silently proud that he still held onto his rifle, never letting go of it during the clash.
He finally reloaded his rifle and left the room. There was no reason to be quiet anymore; whatever was left in the Labyrinth would have heard the struggle. He picked up the pace, jogging with his rifle shouldered, ready to mow down anything else he encountered.
At the end of the corridor a bright light highlighted the edges of the wall splitting, revealing a hidden doorway to the next section of the Labyrinth.
Christian ran through it without hesitation.
The new section of the maze was a giant hall, with round pillars protruding from the ground. The pillars did not reach all the way up to the ceiling of the hall. They varied in height forming what looked like platforms to areas above him. Every pillar was big enough for an armoured troop carrier to perch on, with only a few feet space between every pillar. It hampered Christian’s ability to see the side walls of the titanic hall. He noticed that the floor had changed, it was bare stone, matching the colour of the brown pillars everywhere. If he didn’t know better, this could have been the inside of an Egyptian pyramid brought to New Horizon for the sole purpose of confusing Operators.
There was a grinding sound and a rumble from under his feet, a mechanism of some kind had come to life somewhere far below him. In the distance the floor split and fell away, like express elevators falling away from view. Christian acted by jumping on the lowest pillar nearby, he had decided to jump just in time, the floor he was standing on fell away moments later. Looking down he could not see the bottom of the hall, darkness consumed the depths below him, a gloom not even his dark sight could penetrate. The pillars started shaking, slowly they started to move. He stood, shocked at what he was seeing, the creator of this place was indeed a genius.
The movement of the pillars formed a spectacular, yet intricate, sight. They moved and shifted, never colliding to create a challenging task to any Operator. As he watched the pillars moved around one another, patterns emerging as he watched, simple at first but the constant shifting concealed the end of every pattern. It was obvious he had to climb to reach something or somewhere.
Balance and speed would be the key to getting through this. It would waste time if he was trapped on one of the pillars moving on the outside of the pattern. Luckily, Christian was never afraid of heights.
He took a good run up and leaped to the next pillar that was only slightly higher than the previous one. He landed firmly, still clutching his Kicker in his hands, scanning the edges of the pillars above and below him. The shifting of the hall warped one’s perception, blurring it at the edges of one’s vision, it was almost sickening to be on the pillars as they moved smoothly by some invisible guiding hand.
Up he went, jumping on pillars, going ever higher.
Christian had to lock the rifle into place over his shoulder after the first few pillars, the distance and height difference between platforms was growing. He would need both hands to help him climb. His reap sight was silent, no enemies could be detected, no movement or sound except for the stone pillars dancing around him.
He should have known better by now, the calm before the storm was always the most deceptive. He leaped and barely made the edge of the next platform on his climb upwards. Christian regained his balance and looked back at his ju
mp point; movement to his left caught his eye. It was just a blur between two pillars, something fast, very fast. His rifle would be useless here, the shifting would break his line of sight and the pillars would ensure another close quarter fight with whatever was in the hall with him.
He caught sight of a second blur between more of the pillars shifting, then a third, a forth, and a fifth. This meant big trouble, if these were anything like the previous encounter, his odds would not be good.
At the exact moment he was calculating his odds when one of the blurs jumped on a platform below him. It was smaller than the nightmare duo in the first section, its skin glistening from what looked like mucus, half the size of a human but similarly shaped. The creature had extra limbs extending from its back and sides, each of which ended in a sharp spike. It was sniffing like an animal around it. Christian could see the lack of eyes on closer inspection. He kept still, watching the horror smell the air for traces of prey. His reap sight revealed something terrible and horrifying about the monster. Its age shocked Christian to his very core. It was classified as twelve years old, a human child transformed into something barely resembling its previous form. The Beast had no discrimination when it came to what or who it infected.
Four more misshapen and smaller creatures joined the first on its platform, barking and snarling like rabid dogs at one another. They had the same basic mutations with the only variation being extra limbs with pincers instead of spikes on the ends. They acted as a pack, waiting for the biggest one to act first.
It did move, Christian’s reap sight zoomed in on the movement. The largest of the five stopped sniffing and looked in his direction. Its slimy lips parting to reveal a swollen purple tongue, licking its lips as the others turned to face him as well.
They stood there, just watching him, waiting for him to move; they wanted to play, to hunt him and enjoy it.
Christian drew his blade and the Anvil shield from his back, and vowed to not give them the pleasure of feasting on him too easily.
He turned his back on them and sprinted for the furthest edge, diving for the next platform. He had to separate them somehow.
“Mister Locke.” The voice stank of arrogance.
“I have a rank, call me by it.” Locke replied, already knowing who it was, and already irritated with the voice on the other side of the transmission.
“As do I, Captain.” The captain dripped with sarcasm.
“You hold no rank in the military, and you are no Lord of mine.” Locke matched the sarcastic tone word for word.
“Still playing the big bad wolf I hear. I control P-SEP’s interests in this sector, and by extension I control you.”
“What do you want Vincent?” Locke’s ire was growing with every word this so-called royal filth was uttering.
“Why are you not searching for the Fateful Moment? It has been weeks since you were ordered to do so.” Vincent was calm, every word over pronounced like the rest of his bloodline.
“My orders are none of your business, we are resupplying here then we are leaving for the rebel sectors, the Hyperion is ready to leave as soon as we are done with our new recruit.”
“You would do well to show some respect.”
Locke did not reply immediately, he chose his next words carefully, making sure that it would have the necessary impact and clarity. “You and your superiors can kiss my armoured ass.” Simple yet effective, he thought.
Vincent’s voice betrayed his anger, his calm exterior lie breaking slightly. “You dare speak to me as if you are my equal!” Vincent regained some of his composure before he spoke again. “You have been a thorn in my side for too long, I will see you punished for this.”
“I am not some dog you can punish whenever I bark back. Go to hell you bastard. I will see you there.” Locke cut the transmission with a word behind his visor before Vincent could reply. That scum had agitated him. They needed to move soon, before that fool in orbit did something stupid or reckless.
Locke switched channels and hailed the Hyperion.
A female communication officer’s voice answered the hail almost immediately. “Captain Locke. How can I assist you?”
“Inform Captain Gray that we will be departing soon. We have had an unfriendly nudge from the Stygian Council’s commander.”
“Captain Gray will be informed.”
Locke removed his helmet with an escaping hiss, looking at his squad in turn. His next words were difficult, he knew the implications of the order he was about to give.
The rest of the squad had heard nothing of the conversation between their captain and the other person. They had just seen the irritation in their leader’s movements.
Locke took a breath and looked at Nathan. He hesitated before speaking. “Get him out.” Nathans was already checking weapons. Locke turned to the other Titans around him. “Go with him, be quick, we are leaving.”
In orbit the Hyperion’s plasma core was awoken from its slumber, brining ship systems online across the board. Captain Gray was a veteran of many void battles, having fought in the Rebel Wars many years ago before his ship was commissioned to carry his current cargo. He liked the Titans, especially Locke and the quiet big one. He respected Locke for his strength, and for his ability to easily piss off any commanding officer with just a few words.
The Hyperion was a spear of silver armour plating, its spear tip a flattened-off snub nose that housed the bridge and vital ship control rooms. Thicker sections of the hull were spaced apart behind the flat prow, almost coiling around the ship in loops of armour plating. The core and its generators, and the all-important BEAM drive, were behind these heavily armoured sections. It all ended in an array of void engines, able to power the Hyperion between the stars with phenomenal speed. In the belly of the Hyperion docking bays were hidden behind immense bay doors. These doors would open and expel its contingent of Crescent fighters and Firefly drop ships whenever they were needed. Even the weapon arrays were hidden in the vessel’s hull, and only revealed when something needed to be killed.
Captain Gray watched his bridge crew work, he was proud of every one of them; their efficiency and competence was second to none in the entire galaxy. Gray was bulky, no doubt the genes from his father the champion ring fighter having something to do with it. He was almost seven feet tall without any augmentations, muscled arms and meaty legs were all hidden underneath his pristine officer’s suit. Anyone that ever opposed him found out the hard way how strong he really was. Many junior officers and piss for brains soldiers experiencing his power in unsanctioned boxing matches on-board the Hyperion. He enjoyed those moments in the ring, earning respect from everyone on-board with every victory, the big and silent Titan the only one to ever best him.
Gray smoothed down his silver moustache with his sausage-like fingers, eyeing the female officer next to his command chair. His silver hair echoed the colour and bristle texture of his moustache.
“Why so nervous my scrumpet?” he said, knowing that P-SEP, nor the military, had no policies against sexual harassment.
The female officer huffed at him. “I am not nervous sir, just eager.” She looked at the dark ship on the screen in the middle of the bridge, squinting as she took in details the ship systems were adding to it by the minute. “That ship would put up one hell of a fight, sir.”
Gray smiled at that, such a petite and beautiful young thing, yet so passionate about shedding blood. Perhaps that is why he was so attracted to her, not that he would ever mention it to anyone.
“Indeed, it would put up hell of a fight right before it blasted our little ship to excrement and junk.”
“So, shields up then sir?”
Gray nodded. “You read my mind Remy, shields to full. Bring us about, show the bastard our most flattering side.”
Remy responded instantly, yelling out her captain’s orders to the rest of the bridge crew.
The Hyperion’s engines flared, its manoeuvring thrusters making it drift away from the Stygian Council.
Its thrusters making it drift away from the vessel beside it, baring its backside to the larger vessel.
Twice they had almost killed him. He had been forced to stand his ground on one of the platforms, fending off the pack multiple times as they sought to bring him down. The last time was the closest he had come to being skewered by one of their spikes. The pack was down to only four now, slaying at least one during the fierce fighting.
Christian had no time to think on what would happen if he failed here, his timer was down to twenty-one hours already, who knew how long the Labyrinth would take to conquer, who knew how many more rooms or obstacles he had to traverse before the end. The fight had been raging for more than an hour, constantly attacked from all sides, testing his weaknesses like true killers.
One of the little horrors darted towards him, bringing its sharp pincers trailing behind it like tails. He side stepped it with ease only to see another leap from the edge of a nearby pillar. It did not leap directly at him, instead it used another pillar to try and leap at his flank. Christian met the monster with his Anvil shield, directing its blows away from him, swinging at it with his combat blade. This opened up his other flank to the third terror, the largest one, rushing at him with spikes outstretched in front of it. Christian pivoted just in time, the creature’s spikes glancing off his shield’s smooth edge, momentarily throwing the monster off balance.
He seized the opportunity and kicked at the beast with all of his strength, the kick connecting with a crack of bones. It was sent flying over the edge of the platform they were fighting on, squealing as it fell. Christian thought he had killed another, but the largest of the pack was far from incapacitated, he saw it rise on a pillar that had shifted up close to the platform he was on. It would take more than just a kick to fell the beast child.