by J. N. Chaney
“Hughes,” said a man through the shared group link, his voice raspy and soft. “Can… can you…”
I tilted my head to find Barkley staring at me from the other side of the room, a large crack in his visor. The thick layer of blood pooled around his body, still pumping from his torn leg, told me he was likely bleeding out. I could barely see his eyes from this far away, but I knew the moment his body had gone limp, and he was still. There was no more life left in him now, and there would be no saving him.
“It appears Private Barkley is dead, sir,” said Sigmond.
“Are the shuttles gone yet?” I asked, my eyes still on the Celestial, who quickly deactivated its hard light sword so that it could navigate the small space with more ease.
Abigail backed up toward me, breathing heavily and licking her lips. “It just won’t…stop,” she panted.
“Yes, sir,” said Sigmond. “Only one shuttle remains. However, I’m afraid I couldn’t keep Ms. Lucia from—”
The Celestial reactivated its light blade, locking its dead eyes with my own.
“We have to do something about those weapons!” said Abigail.
Whatever Sigmond was saying would have to wait. I had other things to worry about. As long as those shuttles were on course for the Nebula Prospect, I was happy. Well, relatively speaking, anyway, considering the circumstances.
I raised my guns. “Agreed!” I barked. “Let’s shoot the godsdamn thing off its godsdamn arm!”
We unloaded on the monster, our bullets raining on the creature’s appendages. It tried to move out of the way, flinging its hands away from us, only to brush against the nearby wall. As it did, a series of hard impacts fell upon its wrists, and pieces of metal tore themselves from the place where the light had come.
I fired my pistols into the Celestial’s side as Abigail and I started walking backward, going deeper into the hall, toward the next room.
I reloaded, or tried to, when the Celestial decided to lunge in my direction.
Before I could react, I felt its hand—or whatever the hell it was—strike me in the chest, sending me nearly two meters back where I slid on my ass and into the far wall. I gasped for air as my eyes bulged from the shock.
Abigail screamed, and gunfire cut through the air around me as she emptied her rifle into the beast. It took me a moment to find my pistols in all the blood and chaos. They had slid across the hallway, a good four meters off.
The click of an empty magazine caught my attention as Abigail dove out of the way of a fist aimed right for her face. She rolled across the floor away from me, the Celestial no longer bothered with me in the slightest.
The rifle Abigail had given me on the way down to the planet was still strapped across my back, so I left the pistols on the floor for the time being and proceeded to draw the heavy weapon.
I fired off round after round as I slowly rose to my feet, steadily closing the distance between us, not caring what part of the monster I hit as long as I didn’t tag Abigail in the process.
The four-armed monster looked over its shoulder, that emotionless face watching me like a corpse with shifting eyes, and I never once stopped firing. It charged me as I unloaded the last of the bullets in the magazine. With close to four dozen bullet holes in its chest alone, the Celestial swung its arm at my neck. I barely ducked the blow. “Abby, get one of the other rifles and check for extra ammo!”
“On it,” she barked, racing toward the nearest corpse as I distracted the Celestial.
It swung again, and this time I lifted the empty rifle to block it.
The sword came back to life, manifesting in thin air as it cut effortlessly through the metal gun, and the back half of the rifle clattered onto the floor.
Before I had a chance to check on Abigail, a hail of gunfire cut through the room as she fired into the creature’s back. A loose bullet whizzed over my helmet, digging into the metal wall above my head.
“Hey!” I shouted. “Hit the big white monster, not me!”
“Deeply sorry,” she said as she unleashed another hail of gunfire.
The Celestial wailed in pain, not willing to just keel over and die already. It cocked one of its arms, ready to either swing its blade or punch one of us, I couldn’t rightly tell with this thing. Abigail shifted her aim, firing one round at the metal device on its wrist with expert precision. The blue sword began to malfunction and its hard light blade retracted, but that didn’t slow the Celestial down.
From this angle, I couldn’t tell what it was going to do until its fist was flying toward my face. Its massive knuckles cracked against the side of my helmet. The snap of the visor’s glass echoed in my ear. I flew backward, my body careening down the hallway toward Barkley’s corpse. I rolled, my head spinning, a splitting headache tearing through my skull as vomit burned in my throat.
Abigail shouted something, but I couldn’t hear it through the sharp ringing in my ears.
“Sir, you’re at risk of compromising the suit should you endure another attack like that,” said Sigmond, his voice oddly muffled and distant. “I suggest you avoid getting punched in the face in the future.”
“Yeah, thanks,” I muttered, shaking my head in an attempt to reorient myself. I could feel the hot blood rushing down my cheek, but I couldn’t stop, not with this thing still attacking us.
“Jace, I’m out of ammo,” Abigail said through the comm in my ear as I slowly got my senses back.
“You and me both,” I muttered, slurring my words as I fought what felt like a concussion. “No wait,” I added, getting an idea. “My pistols.”
“Behind you,” said Abigail, grunting with effort as she smacked her empty rifle hard across the Celestial’s face.
Nearby, I could make out the hazy outline of my pistol. I grabbed for it, missing the first few times before I was able to finally wrap my hands around the handle. A few meters away, I found the other one and holstered it, not sure which of these still had bullets.
The Celestial cornered Abigail as I tried to stand, backing her against the wall as it lifted a blue blade to end her. I stumbled, my shoulder hitting the wall as I fought to regain my balance.
I had to save her.
She skillfully ducked out of the swords’ paths, using what little ground she still had to her advantage to avoid a deadly blow. The blue light of the creature’s swords cut through my blurred vision, one of the blades still erratically slipping in and out of the metal device as the monster tried to cut her open.
I needed to kill this thing, and I needed to do it quickly. As disoriented as I was, though, I didn’t want to shoot Abby by mistake.
“Find yourself some cover,” I ordered, trying to stop the world around me from spinning. “Stand down so I can take another shot.”
“I can’t, Jace,” she said, grunting with effort as she ducked its blows. “This thing has me pinned. I can’t—” The Celestial swung, and she screamed in pain as the malfunctioning blade suddenly sprang to life, stabbing her sharply in the abdomen. The angle cut through her right side, and she arched her back in pain as the blade pierced her suit.
“Abby!” I shouted, a cold shot of dread tearing through the disorienting agony thundering in my brain.
My vision finally cleared. Fueled purely by instinct and adrenaline, I lifted my gun and fired. The bullet landed square in the back of the Celestial’s head, the force so strong it nearly fell over. It raised its head and clawed at the back of its skull, the blades retreating momentarily into its wrists as it tried to remove the bullet now embedded in its body. A thin line of blue blood dripped down its bald head, all of it smoking due to the lack of air, but I knew this thing wasn’t out for the count just yet.
I ran to Abigail as she lay on her side in the hallway, her hand covering the wound on her torso. “Abby, are you all right?”
“Fine,” she said through clenched teeth, the pain obvious in her expression.
“I thought nuns weren’t supposed to lie,” I said with a smirk, trying to
take her mind off the pain.
She chuckled, wincing as blood pooled over her gloved hand.
“Siggy, help us out,” I ordered, eyeing the blood with concern.
“Initializing suit containment,” said Sigmond. “Since the wound is far smaller than Lieutenant Rackham’s injury, I was able to remotely patch it using the suit’s inherent backup system.”
“Thanks, Siggy,” said Abigail, her voice softer than I was used to hearing it.
“Abby, this ain’t good,” I said. “We need to get you back to the ship, and fast.”
Quickly, I checked my pistols. One was empty, and the other had only a single bullet left. I checked my pockets, but I was fresh out.
I had one bullet left, and I was going to make it count.
The Celestial turned on us and summoned its swords once again, swinging at Abigail. With no better ideas to my name, I yanked the wounded nun with every ounce of strength I had left in me, pulling her out of the way as the Celestial’s blade dug into the ground where she had been mere seconds before. I hurled her empty rifle at it, more as a distraction than anything else. The heavy gun smacked the creature hard in the face, and it paused only long enough to roar at me.
Good. As much as I hated looking at the thing’s ugly face, this gave me a chance to take proper aim. I raised the barrel of my pistol and took the shot, hitting the disabled creature square in its eye.
It jerked, falling backward as it clutched its face. It staggered through the hallway, disoriented as it tried to put distance between us. A blast of blue light sailed from one of the devices and bore into the ceiling, leaving a smoking hole in the otherwise flawless metal.
“Abby, get Barkley’s gun!” I shouted.
She nodded, grimacing in pain as she clutched the wound at her side, stretching to reach the rifle. I frowned, her injury obviously worse than I had realized, and grabbed it for her.
“I nearly had it,” she snapped, sitting up against the wall as the creature screamed before us. Blood coated her gloves, and her grip slid once or twice as she cradled the rifle weakly in her hands, trying to get the butt of the gun up to her shoulder.
“You’re welcome,” I said, patting down the Union soldier’s corpse for more bullets. “He’s out.”
Abigail lifted the rifle, aiming it toward the Celestial, and pulled the trigger—only for us to realize the magazine was spent.
She snarled and tossed the weapon aside. “Delightful,” she muttered.
“Stay behind me,” I ordered, standing between her and the Celestial as it smashed against a wall, still disoriented and holding its face. My gaze flitted again to the hole in the ceiling, my mind racing with ideas on how I could get this thing to stab itself. It was a risky move full of doubt and dumb luck, but it was all we had left.
The Celestial’s form shimmered again as it tried once more to turn invisible, only this time a bare whisper of blue light flowed over its skin.
It couldn’t cloak. We’d loaded the creature so full of neutronium that we had completely disabled its ability to hide itself.
“Jace, we’ve got to finish this,” Abigail said, wincing in pain as she moved a little too suddenly. She held her side, glaring at the monster at the end of the hallway.
My mind raced. If its cloak was malfunctioning, maybe its phasing ability was, too. That meant I could corner it, make it panic, and maybe—just maybe—get the damned thing to stab itself in the face. Or neck. I wasn’t picky.
I only had one option left, and I didn’t quite like it, but just maybe I could pull this off.
Time for a good old-fashioned bluff.
I lifted my empty pistol, aiming for the Celestial’s other eye, and swiftly closed the gap between us. This thing didn’t understand our language. It didn’t know we were out of ammo, and it was clearly in a panic after my last shot to its eye.
This was either going to work brilliantly or get me killed, but I was fresh out of other ideas.
As the Celestial noticed me stalking toward it, the creature scrambled to back away. Its cloak engaged once more, and this time it tried to phase through the wall behind it.
And, much to my dismay, the phasing worked.
Its body hummed and shimmered, disappearing into the wall. But as it darted through the metal surface, its chest wouldn’t pass through. The creature’s torso was too riddled with neutronium, and it abruptly lurched backward. The cloak malfunctioned once again, and the phasing failed. The Celestial returned to its normal, ugly self halfway through the wall, its body instantly cut in half. The creature released a loud, wailing as the wall cut it in two. The top half of the creature hit the ground before us with a wet thud, its eyes slowly fading out of focus as it stared at me in its final seconds.
For a moment, I could only stare at the corpse, not quite believing it was dead. My pulse beat in my temple as the alarm continued to light up the area around us. Blood slowly trailed down my jaw from the wound at my temple, and I breathed heavily as I kept my empty pistol aimed at what was left of its body.
Abigail’s soft groan of pain snapped me out of my daze, however. As the world flooded back to me in a rush, the alarm was suddenly louder. I quickly returned to Abigail, kneeling by her as I checked her wound.
“I’m fine,” she said, refusing to lift her hand as she clutched her side. With a grim frown, she leaned her head back against the wall.
“That don’t look fine,” I said, pulling back her gloved hand as I studied the sharp gouge in her suit. A buzzing blue light covered the hole, containing her oxygen, but it didn’t do a thing for the wound itself. I had to get her help, and fast.
“It’s minor, Jace, honestly,” she said, too proud to admit she was in agony. I grabbed her arm to help her up, and it struck me as worrisome that the proud woman actually let me help her stand. Once on her feet, she gestured for me to give her the empty rifle, then she held it at the ready.
“You aiming to shoot the air with that empty gun?” I asked, nodding toward the rifle in her hands.
“Maybe I just like holding a gun,” she snapped impatiently. “Let’s get back to—”
A crash beneath our feet interrupted her, but I couldn’t tell where it had come from. Instantly, the alarm turned off, and in the dim that followed, the hair on my neck stood on end. “Siggy, what—”
The ground beneath us rumbled before I could finish, throwing both of us off balance. I caught Abigail before she could fall, hands gripping her shoulders tightly as I kept her upright. She grimaced, almost dropping the rifle, but I held her in place as the world around us shook.
“Siggy, what the hell is that?” I asked, shouting over the din.
“Sir, I would suggest you make your way to the remaining shuttle as quickly as possible,” said the Cognitive, not really answering my question. “I’m afraid everything just got quite a bit worse.”
17
“What do you mean, worse?” I yelled into my comm as Abigail and I hobbled our way through the hallway, trying to get back to the last remaining shuttle in the hangar. Abigail gripped her side, limping as she leaned heavily on my shoulder. I debated carrying her, wondering if that would just be faster and cause her less pain in the long run, but every now and then my world still spun from the concussion. I could barely walk straight, much less keep from dropping Abigail on her head.
The world around us rumbled, the metal walls groaning from the vibrations of whatever the hell was going on.
“I’m picking up very peculiar readings,” said Sigmond. “It’s as though the megastructure instantly came alive the moment the alarm was shut off. I’m picking up movement at the furthest reaches of the twenty-five hundred meter radius on the Union’s scanner.”
“Rackham’s tech guy is still here?” I asked, mildly impressed by the soldier’s courage.
“Oh, no, sir. Not at all,” corrected the Cognitive. “He was the first aboard the Nebula Prospect the moment he got word we were evacuating. He didn’t even think to bring the Union’s device, od
dly enough—he simply left it in the hangar. Dr. Dressler took a moment to grant me access to the device’s internals, which has allowed me to scan and analyze its design. I’m quite confident we can replicate this on our own once we return to Earth.”
“I like your optimism, Siggy,” I admitted as the planet shook violently around us. At this rate, I wasn’t completely convinced we were going to make it back in time. A sudden surge in the rumbling quake threw me against the wall, and Abigail groaned as she fell to the floor. I quickly threw her arm over my shoulders and lifted her again, moving us as fast as I could through the shuddering metal halls. “How much farther to the hangar?”
“Not far,” said Sigmond. “You’re only about four hundred meters from the nearest entrance.”
“Is there any movement nearby?” I asked, trying to gauge how screwed we were.
“Thankfully, no,” said the Cognitive. “A few isolated pockets of movement are unnervingly close, their trajectories all suggesting they’re moving quickly toward the hangar, but you should arrive before they do.” Sigmond paused. “Barring any distractions, of course.”
“Distractions?” I asked. “Care to elaborate?”
“One Celestial in particular seems dangerously close to beating you to the bay entrance,” admitted Sigmond. “I suggest you move as quickly as possible, as it may be a very close call even if you get to the ship before it does. Thankfully, most of the enemy activity is moving toward your previous location, and they don’t appear to be deviating despite your change in direction.”
“I bet that Celestial sent out a signal to them,” I muttered, shaking my head in frustration. I hadn’t seen it pause to fire off any distress signals, but perhaps it had sent something before we arrived. “How many Celestials are we talking, Siggy?”
“I detect four individuals moving as a unit,” he answered. “However, an additional three appear on the outer parameter of my scans moving in the same direction.”