Captive Galaxy 1: The Bellerophon: Ambush

by J. W. Kurtz

  Angelo turned his attention to the man on his left...who had stopped running and was on a knee taking careful aim with a weapon unfamiliar to him. Just as all four barrels from his shoulder and forearms mounted weapons came to bear on the stationary target, the nearby pistol atop the deck set to overload exploded sending a cascade of sparks, shrapnel, and molten droplets of steel melted plasma hotter than the surface of the sun. Angelo was sprayed was a great portion of this deadly debris, his person protected only by the 23rd century armored shell.

  He had expected a detonation but he was still shocked by ferocity of the sudden explosion. He staggered for a moment however he was not surprised to find that his suit registered little if any damage. As he regained his senses his attention again turned to the man, still aiming a weapon from a kneeling position approximately 15-meters away. He pulled the trigger and let loose a single cacophonous shot from the unidentified weapon.

  Amazingly the external microphone on the suit was still operational after the blast a moment ago but the noise canceling feature, which had protected the hearing of Anglo upon the explosion, was now apparently inoperable. The earsplitting sound, amplified greatly due to the setting it was last set on, rang tremendously in his ears. He shook his head as he ached from the savage pain. In the short span of a couple heartbeats he regained his composure and again focused on the kneeling form across the engineering compartment. The shot from the unfamiliar weapon had missed.

  In a rage Angelo decided he was not going to shoot this man; he was going to tear him limb from limb. He took a step toward the figure busily fumbling with the archaic looking weapon...

  ...Laaken and Petrov stepped around the corner in near unison and into the final stretch of corridor leading to their goal: the primary life-support control station. They were trailing two retreating defenders. Both Laaken and Petrov expected them to be waiting for them, again, around this final bend in some form of final stand. Instead of the weak bolts from a carbine and pistol, the two heavy suits were met with a wall of fire that included heavy plasma blasters.

  The ferro-ceramic armor easily shrugged off the bolts, even the heavy plasma blasts from the unexpected reinforcements resulted in only scarring and pitting of the advanced armor. The surprise to both Laaken and Petrov did cause their own return fire and aim, aim already reduced due to the damage to their targeting and optic sensors, to be less than accurate. At least initially. The two recovered from the surprising onslaught and bore down on the last organized group of defenders between them and their goal. Their combined fire quickly found the face of one of the bearers of a heavy plasma weapon. His skull now no more than a charred husk of blackened bone atop a lifeless body that slumped to the ground after a super heated bolt of energy passed completely through his face. The bolt barely lost intensity as it continued out the back of his head to impact upon a bulkhead further down the corridor.

  With their focus to the front, Laaken and Petrov didn't notice the two forms, encumbered by a heavy box cradled between them in jury-rigged cargo net, sneak towards them from behind. Both Laaken and Petrov were veteran fighters and had a sense about being in an ambush. They both understood, through practice, that when faced with one surprise it is common that a second is close at hand. The reinforcements here was obviously the first surprise. Laaken took a step back to check the corridor he and Petrov had just traversed, a cautionary measure to assess their flank and search out the second surprise he suspected was heading his way. All the while he never ceased firing his blasters at the defenders before him.

  Weston and Chavez carried the heavy Minervan box as quickly as they could. They should have been able to move faster with the enhancements of their battlesuits but in being in such close proximity, the strange effects of the radiation emitted from the box, disabled all the electronics on their person. Their weapons were no more than clubs hanging from their tactical slings. And of course their comms were down because of the disabling artifact.

  The tremendous racket of heavy blaster bolts could be heard ahead and as they turned the corner in the corridor they were hustling down they could see, and smell, the heavy acrid smoke and the bright plasma bolts impacting the L-intersection 20-meters further on. The battle against the two heavies was just around the corner. It was obvious to the two that the defense, mounted by Alpha, included more than the guns of just Bachman and Takashi. However, it wouldn't matter how many guns Alpha managed to bring to bear on the Ogre battlesuits they faced. Lacking heavy crew served weapons or heavy explosives they were beyond being overmatched.

  They were halfway down the corridor when an unfortunate thing occurred. One of the two hostiles backed up, no doubt to check their flank against sneakiness like that being attempted by Weston and Chavez. They were caught in no-mans land, being too far from the hostiles for the box to have any disabling effect, too far from getting back around the corner from where they came and the safety it promised by being out of the line of sight.

  Both immediately recognized they were screwed and both reacted differently as the heavy box slammed to the ground between them.

  With his left hand Chavez shoved Weston hard to the side of the corridor, into the slight recess that existed behind a thick steel rib jutting from a bulkhead. This was the only tiny bit of cover in the area. With his right hand he dropped the duffel bag of tools he carried and unslung his carbine. He then moved forward and away from the box and its electronic neutralizing field of weird. His finger pressed on the trigger as fast as he could, sending a near continuous stream of plasma bolts from the now live weapon with it being out of the neutralizing envelope of the alien artifact. The barrel turned white and the weapon screamed as it quickly overheating weapon. Without a hesitation in his step Chavez strode toward his certain death.

  Weston, taken off guard by the shove to cover from Chavez, recovered quickly, but instead of preparing her own carbine and adding to what she knew was a hopeless but brave charge by Chavez, she found herself looking at the Minervan box in the middle of the corridor. The box, suspected to be at least 50,000-years old, appeared as if it was fabricated only yesterday. The artifact beckoned to her as it sat nestled in the poly webbing cradle atop the worn steel decking. They knew that the field disabled all electronics within a meter or so of the box. What was unknown was just how far that nullifying field would project if the box was opened. For all she knew it would still only radiate a meter or perhaps it would encompass the whole ship. Maybe the field was larger than that even. She also considered the possibility that perhaps the strange radiation would instantly be fatal to anyone nearby if the lid was removed.

  A bolt of energy screamed by a scant half-meter from her head. She could smell burnt hair.

  "We're all dead anyway...so fuck it," Weston muttered aloud as she leapt from cover, quickly examined the alien creation, as plasma bolts continued to rip through the near air as Chavez and the hostile exchanged fire. She quickly located the two sunken buttons on opposing sides of what they had determined to be the top of the box, and as yet another bolt zipped by narrowly missing her once more, she pressed the buttons simultaneously and lifted the heavy lid up and away.

  The lights went out.

  Chapter 22:

  Almost 500-meters aft, Ayad attempted to work the unfamiliar weapon in his hands. He'd snatched the antique and antiquated weapon from the Osprey and strapped it over his shoulder prior to the harassing pursuit undertaken by his team of two. He was near entirely unsure on the operation of the weapon. Chavez had quickly demonstrated how the weapon worked, shortly after they had taken the shuttle after pulling it from transit space, but it was more for Chavez to show off that he knew something than as an actual briefing resulting in any true education. Ayad was a quick learner, he just wished he wasn't learning at the end of a suicidal killing machine aiming four barrels of plasma blaster at him.

  The plan was for Swanson to distract the lone wolf, first with the improvised detonation of the overheated plasma pistol lobbed across the compartment
at the heavy battlesuit, and then with a weaving dash to one side. Ayad would dash to the opposite side of the compartment and try for a shot to the flank of the heavily armored helmet of the Ogre. The plan was a desperate one for sure but perhaps they could expose a chink in the armor with a lucky shot or perhaps the overloaded plasma pistol would deal some real damage.

  But the timing was off. Ayad witnessed Swanson take a bolt almost immediately and go down hard. The overloaded pistol, the improvised distracting explosive, went off later than expected after being kicked away from the scrambling boarder. After the plasma pistol detonated finally, a thunderous roar of an explosion, Ayad, himself shaken by the expected explosion, managed to get off a shot at his target.

  The shot had missed, and missed badly.

  The surprising kick and obnoxious report from the antique had caused the weapon to be pulled high, to send whatever type of solid projectile it shot into the overhead directly above the target, narrowly missing a thick colorful pipe labeled with numerous signage denoting danger and hazard.

  Finally he succeeded in working the bolt which ejected the spent casing to roll across the deck. He was relieved to see another metallic shell, the second to last one, pop up from the internal magazine and slide into the breach as he shoved the bolt forward.

  He knew his second shot would have less time for proper aim than the first. The first shot had been a charity in its own right. In fact he was surprised to have had even the time to reload the weapon as he completely expected himself to be charred chunks of matter sprayed throughout the room by now. But, instead of being met with expected near instant oblivion, he quickly understood, as his foe moved toward him, in a near saunter, that his end was to be met via the enhanced strength of powered gauntlets. The lone wolf moved forward to tear him limb from limb. It wasn't out of fear that Ayad froze, as the nearly 3-meter tall killer approached, it was acceptance. Acceptance that it was over and that there was only time for a whispered prayer to his creator.

  The rifle in his hands dropped to the deck as Ayad closed his eyes and slightly raised his hands from his side as he offered a silent prayer. After death was late in coming he opened his eyes to see what was holding up his killer. He blinked several times as he was surprised that the compartment was pitch black. He blinked again when he realized he was still alive.

  "Swanson? You there?" Ayad asked into the pitch blackness, and as he'd easily discovered, zero-gravity of the main engineering compartment.

  A cough and a soft rasp could be heard in reply, to soon be followed by a more definitive raspy, "yes..." croaked across the way. "Why are the lights out...and why are you not dead?" the weakened voice asked warily.

  "I don't know...owww! Fuck!" Ayad exclaimed. "Something just hit me in the face. Hard. I think my nose is broken. Fuck!" repeated a very pissed off Ayad.

  "What? You okay?" followed by another wet and heavy cough from Swanson.

  "Yeah, yeah I'm fine. Minus the broken nose of course. We're weightless you know." Ayad asked rhetorically.

  "I noticed. I'm clinging onto what I thinks a deck cleat with my good hand. The other one...well I can't feel anything really. There's pain but not from the wound which isn't a good sign. I know it's bad. I can't see it of course... hope it's still attached," Swanson joked while trying to hide the hurt and concern he obviously felt.

  "I think I know what this is by the way."

  "An opportunity? The power's out. We damage a breaker?" Swanson offered.

  "Yes, and no," Ayad answered with thought heavy in his voice, "the lights, the loss of artificial gravity, the fact that the lone wolf here appears to be in the dark like we are but even more so. He's still in here somewhere but I'm betting if we had a non-power reliant light source we'd see him floating nearby, his motors, gears, and servos frozen by a complete lack of power."

  "What is it? How long will it last?" Swanson asked. His voice was stronger than before. This recent turn of events in their favor dumping adrenaline into his system to a point of complete saturation now.

  "Ummm, well...I know what it is but I don't. I'm sure it has something to do with that Minervan artifact we discovered on the shuttle. As for how long...I have no fucking idea," Ayad then paused momentarily while he considered the limited options one had while floating in absolute darkness , defenseless, with the threat of an enraged killer nearby chomping at the bit to complete his work. "You have any sort of light source? Anything? A lighter even?"

  "No. I don't smoke. I think the only two that have lighters are the Doc and Bachman but," Swanson coughed heavily before continuing, "there is most likely emergency chem lights stashed in the aid kit secured to the bulkhead alongside the hatches to this compartment. The trick is finding them of course."

  "Well, since you appear to be in no shape to be navigating blindly here in zero-g, I'll give it a go for no other reason than I don't think I'm in the best of spots right now."

  "Where do you think you are?" Swanson asked with concern in his voice.

  "Pretty sure I'm clinging to the wolf here...I can hear muffled obscenities being screamed through the surface of whatever I'm holding onto. I think my foot is purchased on a forearm blaster. I can feel the heat from the recently active tube radiating up my leg. Yeah, I need to be elsewhere. I'm gonna use your voice as a guide, so keep talking to me so I can find myself to the regular deck and from there I'll feel my way to a hatch and maybe get us some light going. So talk to me," Ayad directed.

  "Roger that, sir....let me tell you how much I like being an engineer and how much I hate being shot at because now I know how it feels to be shot!" Swanson hollered.

  "Perfect. I think I know what is 'down' now. Please...continue your bitching."

  *****

  Chavez found himself floating in the near completely dark corridor where moments ago he was sure his death was all but imminent. Only the glow of superheated steel from plasma bolt strikes supplied a dim reddish-orange light that was quickly fading. Chavez thought to himself that when the lights went out, and he was suddenly weightless, and the thunder and lightning of weapon strikes and discharges ceased, he at first believed himself to be dead. But then he heard a familiar nearby voice as well as several other recognizable voices sounding from down the corridor.

  The nearby voice was that of Marie Weston.

  "That you, Chavo?" she asked. "I opened the box."

  "No shit. And thanks, though the Boss told you not to. We were just supposed to get it close to the bad guys to shut 'em down."

  "Well, considering the circumstances I think he'll forgive me. Unless I killed the ship that is...but I figured we were all dead anyway so better to ask for forgiveness for the mess rather than be the mess that gets cleaned up, right?"

  "Yeah," Chavez chuckled in reply.

  "He'll forgive you, Weston," the voice of Wray sounded from a shadow that just emerged into the waning light from around the corner. The shadow quickly merged with the growing darkness as the light from the glowing steel from the plasma bolt strikes quickly cooled, ending the superheated materials usefulness as a light source. "But it'll come out of your paycheck if any systems are permanently damaged."

  "You sound serious about that, Boss," Weston said. There was a long silence. Soon it was obvious that Wray was not going to respond. She shifted gears to the present concern and not her future paycheck. "You got the duffel with the gear we humped with us, Chavo?"

  "Humped? Oh, year. Carried. Ummm...I dropped it near the box, it should be floating around somewhere nearby...there I think. Damn I wish there was some light. There was a shadow below...behind...next to your left foot, Marie," Chavez fumbled as he became confused with there really being no "up" or "down" in zero-g.

  Marie Weston held still so as not to confuse directional reference any further. She bent her head to look through the near complete black to her feet. She sensed more than saw the duffel bag floating weightlessly. Deftly she spin a 180 and pushed off a nearby bulkhead she had drifted toward and slowly moved towar
d the waiting bag of equipment. She caught the bag and carefully unzipped it enough to fit her arm inside without exposing the rest of the contents. The concern being that without care the contents would spill out and go floating in every direction to be found only after a scavenger hunt in the dark. Rummaging around in the bag she soon found what she was searching for.

  "Got it!" Weston exclaimed to know one in particular in the now absolute black of the corridor. A black only exceeded by the heart of a singularity. There was a snap in the dark and then the corridor was bathed in the radiant yellow-green glow from the emergency chem glow stick activated by Weston. A second snap followed and then a third. She floated a stick each to Chavez and Wray, with each catching the glowing chem stick as their eyes blinked in adjustment to the sudden return of bright light.

  "Thanks," Wray and Chavez chorused.

  Weston used the small clip attached to her chem light to secure it to her battlesuit so she had both hands free to continue working her way through the duffel bag of tools. She wrapped her legs around the large bag to make doubly sure it wasn't going anywhere. A couple more snaps produced even greater light as she activated more chem lights. She pushed them down the corridor in the direction of the floating hulks of the boarding team, frozen in their heavy armor. Now was the hard part...burning their way with the plasma torch through the deactivated armor to get at the mercenaries trapped inside.