Star Hookers Space Pirates
Page 33
Marcus carried an M-179 machine gun, which disgorged 30mm plastic bullets that were devastating to flesh, but harmless to bulkheads. A slug thrower and the sonic torpedo launcher with two reloads, but he really did not want to have to use them. It would turn anyone in a room or corridor to jelly, even themselves if they detonated to close.
Bob-Six had a beamer, and a laser. John was armed with a beamer, slug rifle, and a few grenades,
Marcus gave the signal to Shirley to go, the cargo bay doors flew open, and the Lavana boiled out of the hold. Boss’s forces were obviously not expecting a platoon of blue aliens to come piling out of the hatch. Looking past, the broiling natives, Marcus could see mouths dropping in surprise, and he heard screaming as they fanned out.
The Boss had obviously converted his loading dock into a Quaxxin processing station since the last time they were there. The hold was full of ore crushers, filtration and condensing vats, shipping crates, a pile of packing materials, bags filled with white powder, work tables, and what appeared to be a pile of beaks and toenails in a corner bin. Was that like, leftovers from the Baloovians? Must be. Marcus wondered as he continued inward after the Lavana. He shuddered.
In only a few seconds, fifteen struggling workers of various races were down on the ground, being subdued and secured; they were naked and unarmed, except for two armed guards in uniforms.
The Lavana whooped, hooted, and chattered among themselves, excited at their initial victory. Marcus's initial relief at avoiding a prolonged gun battle, was cut short asBoss’s voice emanated from hidden speakers.
“Well, well, well! What have we here? A hold full of aliens, but no Baloovians? Peter? Are you trying to fuck me, as you humans say? Do you really think you can win in a fight with me? Peter...? Harrumph! Alright! Where’s Peter? Surely, he’s not cowering in fear inside the ship?" Seemingly frantically, a camera scanned the loading bay. “Ah! I see Floyd, and that other human; what’s your name? What do you think you can hope to accomplish? Peter answer me, come on-- lets work something out
Marcus gestured to Floyd to keep the Lavana moving, not speaking, and to ignore Boss. They skirted past the unconscious workers, and silently followed Floyd into the airlock leading to the station. Well, at least half of them did. Roomy as the lock was, only half of them could fit at a time.
“Why aren't you answering me, Peter? Who are these blue creatures? Peter, stop this at once or I will kill all your friends...! Hmm... Where can Peter be, and what are you playing at?”
The speakers went silent. Marcus, John, and their native accomplices, took advantage of the pause and cycled through to the hallway. It was crowded; the traveling and transport corridorsWhen Marcus caught up with his rear guard, Floyd presented him with some unpleasant information.
“Sir, according to the map, we are on level six, section F. We need to get to section L which is about an earth mile and a half away, completely on the other side. I would normally take us through the service corridors straight through the core, but its weightless at the core, and we don't have propulsion packs. I don’t think the Lavana could handle zero G well, and I don’t think they would understand the controls at all. I'm going to have to take them through the most heavily traveled corridors, commercial shopping centers possibly encountering heavy resistance.”
“I wonder why no alarms have sounded,” John said aloud, over the heads of the milling Lavana.
As if on cue, a klaxon sounded in the hallway.
“ATTENTION, CITIZENS! THE STATION IS UNDER ATTACK BY AN UNKNOWN FORCE. THEY ARE BLUE BIPEDS LED BY A PINK ASSASSIN ROBOT AND A DARK-SKINNED HUMAN. THEY ARE ARMED AND DANGEROUS. REPORT TO THE NEAREST SECURITY STATION AND WEAPONS WILL BE ISSUED. THIS IS NOT A DRILL! REPEAT, THIS IS NOT DRILL! SHOOT TO KILL. THEY ARE ON LEVEL 6. SECTION F AT PRESENT. UNKNOWN DESTINATION!’
Peter had secured a repair pod and was maneuvering along the outside of the hull to the approximate location of the women. He thanked his lucky stars Boss liked full gravity and was located on the outer rim, or they would have had no choice, but to make a frontal assault. Between the automatic weapons system, and the military robot they probably wouldn't have stood a chance of rescuing the girls. Bare minimum, they would have suffered high casualties. Heck, they probably would have all been killed! Who was he fooling?
His wrist com announced he had an incoming call, and he looked to see who it was. A groan escaped from his lips and his face collapsed into a grimace when he saw ‘The Boss’ appear on his caller ID. He considered whether he should answer or not and decided there was no reason not to.
“Hey Boss man, how’s it hanging? Over your snot butt I'm sure.’
‘Where are you, Peter? Show yourself!”
Peter had pushed the no video button.
‘Sorry, Boss, but I politely decline.’
Peter was doubly glad Boss couldn’t see his face as his frown grew deeper. Damn, how does he do it?
‘So, you are crawling around somewhere on the surface of the station, or through the station ducts,” Boss continued fishing, “for what purpose, I can't imagine. There are no maintenance hatches near my offices, and even if you could find the precise location, what are you going to do, blow a hole in the surface of the station? Not only will that kill your friends, it will kill many innocent others too. I doubt you are that blood-thirsty or unconcerned about injuring your friends.
I don't know what you hope to accomplish with this ridiculous army of yours. If you get within a hundred meters of my offices, which I severely doubt, I'll kill your precious friends. In fact, just for your impertinence, I'm going to kill them anyway-- all of your friends, while you watch.” He sighed theatrically. “What is wrong with you humans? I offered you a perfectly good deal that most would kill for, and this is how you repay me? You used to be this lazy, perfectly useful wimp. When did you become this stupid do-gooder?”
“Oh, poor you. If you would have just taken no for an answer, you wouldn't be having this conversation. I find it hard to believe you couldn’t find other pilots willing to break the law and round up Baloovians for you. Sorry, I decline to answer your questions, and since your surrender is probably out of the question... I'll see you in hell... hopefully, way after you!” Peter snapped the com off, smiling, but with a dry mouth, and clenched stomach. It felt great to use a corny old line from a holovid. Probably never get to say that ever again, and mean it, but the clock was ticking.
Chapter 26: Showdown
Meanwhile back in the station’s corridor-- Marcus told Floyd his plan.
“Left, right, it doesn't matter which way we go, it’s basically the same distance to the power station. Boss’s offices are left, or right of J' section. Then its three levels down to the nine deck for you, John. Let’s go that way!” He said pointing right.
This time Marcus led the way, and they double-timed it toward the power station. At the first intersection they came to, someone shot halfheartedly at them, nicking one of the Lavana in the arm with a lucky shot. His comrades pulled some leaves from a pouch it was carrying and made a field dressing on the run while they continued on to the next corridor. They ran into a little more opposition here, where ten station defenders opened fire on them as they rounded the bend. A small group of Lavana dropped to their knees and fired, providing cover for the rest of their group as they sped past. One of the defenders got off a good shot and dropped one of the Lavana. They pulled their comrade from the hallway examined him and turned to Marcus shaking their heads. Dead obviusly. There was a hole drilled through its head.
“Being called Marcus, we not question orders, but not fair we no kill and Lavana’s die?” The Lavana called Plays-with-it-too-much, snarled.
Marcus had to stop and think for second. “Yeah, you're right. They are not being very sportsman-like about it, are they? Uh, Pees-on-Tree-Trunks isn't it? He had come to admire the scrappy aliens
“I Plays-with-it-too-much-- he Pees-on-tree,” the translator grumbled, said Plays pointing to another Lavana.
Marcus pulled his sonic torpedo launcher off his back and screamed, “F- you!" He leaned around the corner and fired a rocket down the coridor. Seconds later they all heard a large boom and a concussion wave rolled over them.
“Let’s go!” he yelled, not stopping to see what damage the torpedo had done.
One of the Lavana slammed a fist against his chest. The rest, brandishing their now deadly weapons in the air, screamed as one in perfect Galactic, “F- you!”
It surprised Marcus but also brought a smile across his worried face. With a smile still stretching ear to ear, he screamed, “F- you!” and raised his own weapon in the air. Once more they charged down the hall, this time Floyd tossed a frag down each corridor before crossing an intersection, Marcus gulped to hold his gorge down as they passed the literally pulped bodies of eight station defenders. Marcus like most beings had seen death before in holovids, and training simulations, but it had not prepared him for the actual horrendous smell of blood, internal parts and sight of mangled limbs.
At the ‘J’ block, Johns group said goodbye to Marcus and the other half of the Lavana’s as they pushed the button for the freight elevators down to Boss’s level.
Marcus’s group suffered no more casualties as they neared the main control room. A few station militia peppered the corridor with weapons fire as they skidded to a halt at the sight of them, and then beat a hasty retreat back around the bend of the corridor. Marcus peeked around the corner quickly to see the entrance to the power plant had been cordoned off by a large party of beings holding riot shields, the rifle barrels protruding past the clear plastic shields like spines on a sea urchin. Marcus was thinking furiously about what their next move was. There was not a scrap of cover for the squad of Lavana and their leader, other than a few columns and the entrances of shops on the promenade deck of the mall area where they now found themselves.
"Well, men, uh, Lavana’s, it looks like we are going to have to rush them with no cover other than our shields and engage them hand to hand. This could get real hairy. Engage shields!"
Their Mini-kin shields deployed in a chorus of, “Snick!”
"Ready?"
"Not understand hairy. We are hairy. Not like smooth skins. What that have to do with battle?" Dances-when-insects-stings said.
“Never mind. It means difficult and dangerous,” Marcus said.
“Lavana not worried. Smooth skins should be scared,” Dances grinned with his formidable teeth bared and grasped his knife.
All of the Lavana had insisted on bringing their knives. Marcus knew they were wicked sharp, even if they were flint or something like it.
“OK, when I say ‘go’ and raise my hand, attack! Floyd? Toss four frags and a few smokes at them around the corner, then give them a few pops with the air hammer.” After seeing the horrible carnage wrought by the sonic torpedo’s, Marcus was reluctant to use them again.
The grenades bounced off the opposite corridor with deadly accuracy as Floyd tossed the grenades to where the defenders laid in wait. From shouts of ‘grenade! and screams they knew Floyd’s accuracy was spot on.
Marcus counted to four and waited for the booms, then Floyd leapt into the corridor firing the air hammer at the power station defenders, “Chang! Chang! Chang!” The deadly weapon sounded as it bowled them over.
“Go! Go! Go!” Marcus raised his hand and screamed.
They rushed the defenders of the power plant with the Lavana firing their guns-- knives in the other and screaming their new blood curdling battle cry-- “F-you!”
They charged the remaining defenders and they fired a volley of shots, but the Lavana were soon among the militia and making short work of them with their knives. Blood sprayed, and dismembered body parts flew through the air with abandon. This was the kind of fighting the Lavana’s excelled at and loved-- hand to hand. The remaining beings fled in terror, especially as several Lavana had cut off the heads of several of their fellow defenders and brandished them about, hooting and screaming triumphantly. It was a fearsome sight not seen for centuries-- at least in civilized space. Marcus was sickened by the carnage, but they had won the battle for the power plant.
Marcus yelled at them to stop snacking on the corpses. Several Lavana with a bloody muzzle’s looked guilty and hastily dropped something disgusting looking to the ground. “Tarcacks! Was that someone’s liver? Shit!” Marcus said horrified, “Floyd, watch them will ya! No more corpse mutilation. Got it?” Marcus looked fiercely and angrily at the Lavana’s, “for fucks sake, you guys! Come on!” he said disgustedly gesturing at all the bloody body’s and parts on the ground.
Some of the Lavana’s kicked the ground and grumbled, others shrugged.
Marcus entered the power station and a few remaining personnel fled out toward the back in fear, probably having watched the carnage on camera.
“Okay, Shirley, you're on! Where do you want me to plug this in?” he said to the air and waving his com around, so Shirley could get a look at the set up.
“See that blinking red light right next to the yellow slider knobs? Jack me into that port next to them.” Marcus took the control pack and plugged it in as she instructed, “Yes-- that’s it! Thanks, Marcus. I'll contact Peter. Let’s get this done!”
~
John, Bob-Six, and their small group of Lavana, were having a harder time of it a short distance from Boss's offices. Unbeknownst to John and everyone else, Boss had put hired and trained killers around the office complex. Johns group had previously examined the blueprints and knew better than to enter to the corridor close to Boss's offices. Nevertheless, the forces against them were inflicting heavy casualties among the Lavana. A couple of well-tossed frag grenades from Bosses forces had been skillfully bounced off the corridors walls and taken out two Lavana, even though they had their shields deployed.
The trained forces were using their machine pistols, loaded with plastic bullets to bounce off the bulkheads and walls as well, sending a hail of projectiles raining down on them and they were firing a lot of bullets. A good half dozen Lavana were bleeding from superficial wounds, scratches, and chunks taken out of ears and such. They were starting to look a little scared. They were not used to fighting an unseen enemy in narrow corridors with no cover.
“Shirley, how’s it coming?” John called to her on his com. “We need to get the hell out of here. Boss's forces are chewing us up!"
“Sorry, John, I just got jacked in,” She paused and then her voice came through again, “Uh, how’s that?”
John looked around and noticed the firing had lessened but was still sporadic.
“I think you got the automatic ceiling weapons,” he answered, “but they still have a lot of live soldiers plinking at us.”
“Good John—now get out of there! You did your part of providing a diversion. No reason to stay—go buddy! Retreat!” she urged.
“OK! Fine! We're out of here then!” John waved his arm back down the corridor and made the signal to retreat, but he noticed the firing had stopped. There was an ominous silence, followed by a faint whining, and a then a thump, thump, thump, thump. Boss's military robot appeared around the corner and stopped.
Except on videos, and movies John had never seen a combat robot up close. The designers had obviously been set on only one design mission-- make it look scary as hell. It had spikes everywhere for no apparent reason other than to intimidate. It was big, black, and loaded with weapons.
John sucked in his breath and thought, my god, are those Flox-eating teeth?
It chomped its stainless-steel teeth at them.
What sick bastard gives a robot flox-eating teeth?
It ran forward, picking up two Lavana with ease and slammed them together. Tissue squashed, and purple blood flew everywhere. John did not have to give the order to retre
at; the Lavana had never seen anything like this, and brave as they were, they ran like hell, accompanied by John. It’s definitely time to split thought John
The Lavana were fast and in moments had a lead, but in spite of its bulk, the robot moved pretty fast also. It fired one of its rockets from a shoulder launcher. It was a miss, but the explosion blew some Lavana off their feet. They rolled—recovered immediately and continued running again.
John and the Lavana’s kept tossing grenades backwards at it, but it staggered through the explosions, and seemed unaffected. They had two satchel charges carried by Bob, but they were two busy running to use them. It fired its lasers and cut down two more Lavana.
“Shirley! Help us! This robot’s kicking our ass!” John screamed frantically into the com.
“OK! I'm on it! Give me a second! The paranoid bastards got, like, three firewalls on the overrides.”
“We don't have seconds, Shirley! We are almost to the elevator."
John looked at Bob-Six running beside him and shouted, “Looks like we're fucked, buddy. We have a small lead, but unless we can slow that shit down or Shirley gets control, I don't think we have enough time to get in the elevator and cycle it.”
Bob-Six wordlessly looked at John and plucked the two magnetic satchel charges off his belt and skidded to a halt.
John kept running but slowed down, “Bob! What the fuck!” he called back to his friend.