by Ronan Frost
"They fell? Oh shit."
"We must go after them," burst Myshia, suddenly feeling very alone.
"Will do," muttered Shaun, looking around in the darkness. They had to find some way down...
For the second time in the past hour he cursed his stupidity. He had forgotten the Hartrias robots were still pursuing them with the mindless determination that only a machine can have. The fact that the ship had just suffered a major blow meant nothing to the sniper droids - their task was to root out the infiltrators.
Swearing lividly Shaun ducked down low, burying his face into the catwalk and shielding his head with his hands. The harsh chattering of automatic rifle fire echoed around their heads, filling the surrounds with terribly loud echoes. From the incredible noise the bullets made Shaun guessed they were explosive tipped - enough to rip huge chunks from the wall behind him, that was for sure.
"Get back!" shouted Shaun, urging Myshia forward away from the source of the fire. "Move into the tunnels, I'll keep you covered!"
"But what about Capac-" started Myshia.
"Later! Now get moving." Shaun had the laser pistol in his hands, feeling its stubby barrel in his shaking, sweaty grasp. He twisted the muzzle two notches, widening the width of the laser. He fired once, twice; blue bolts of energy lashing out across the chasm. In those brief, lightning-like flashes, he at last saw his surroundings. The catwalk had been totally demolished and had swung down against the far side of the chasm. The chasm itself was smooth and bottomless, metal sides glistening blue laser reflections. In that still moment, frozen midway between two eternities of chaos, Shaun saw why they had been so greatly affected by the torpedo blast. The chasm was in fact a massive air duct, some sort of scoop operating from one end of the ship to the other. When the blast struck the hull the explosion must have ripped through this duct like a child scooting down a water slide. The narrow catwalk had been torn like a thread of spiders silk by the buffeting explosion and shifting pressure.
A close whining brought his mind savagely back to the present. Those snipers were getting too close for comfort. Shaun sighted along the barrel of the pistol and fired repeatedly. He cursed the weapon, and found himself wishing for a shoulder slung tri-muzzled grenade throwing stutter gun. That was the sort of weapon one needed to break apart the opposition.
He ducked back into cover, not sure if his shots had found their target. He could spare no more time sitting there, though, and raced to the cover of a nearby tunnel.
He ducked into the narrow duct, almost tripping over a bulky form lying in the entrance. It took him a moment for his eyes to register that it was a Lectar, a wooden arrow jutting from the flesh between the plates on its neck. Judging by its twitching movements Shaun guessed the black armoured beast was out for good.
Myshia was close by, her bow still in her hands. Her eyes flashed pride. "I bumped into it."
Shaun smiled briefly in the darkness. Myshia must have been quick to take down a Lectar. "Keep moving," he urged.
"But what about Capac and Ashian?"
The question was answered for them as bullets ricocheted down the duct. Shaun thought he felt a projectile skim through his hair as he ducked down. "Later! The droid's are right on top of us."
Myshia acquiesced and slung her bow. As Shaun started to follow her deeper into the duct system he turned, firing a last parting shot back the way they had come. He must have been lucky, for the bright flash of laser light was responded by a sharp crackle and thump.
Heartened with his success Shaun took off down the smooth pipe-like duct, his head bowed low. The duct ran straight and flawless, its diameter just enough for Shaun to stand if he bent his knees and hunched over his back. The only thing wrong with it was that any firing from the other end and the bullets ricocheted straight through them.
"Turn off!" yelled Shaun at Myshia's shadow before him. "Find a turn off!"
He stopped long enough to fire off another blast back towards the chasm. The laser made an eerie humming noise as it rocketed down the seamless horizontal duct.
He almost bumped into and fell over Myshia. She had found a junction and was prising off the grating that lead to another pipe. She scrambled into the new duct that ran at right angles to the previous, this duct being nearly identical except for a considerable lessening of radius.
"Shit!" cursed Shaun, halfway through the entrance. "I'm stuck."
He wiggled his torso to no avail, it seemed like his hip bone just would not fit through. Already the skin was scraped and the muscles pulled agonisingly as he tried to haul himself into the narrow pipe.
"It opens out a little here," explained Myshia. "If you can just get through that opening you'll be right."
"It's alright for you, shorty" muttered Shaun, still heaving. His legs stuck out into the other duct, the duct that the droids where racing along right now.
One final, desperate shove that felt like he was tearing muscle from bone, he was through narrow entrance, face plowing into the cold metal of the duct but he barely felt it - he was just glad to be free again. Shaun was never claustrophobic, but looking at his surrounds made a queasy sensation of fear rise up his throat. He was now in a perfectly circular silver metal duct that was no more than forty centimetres diameter. He had barely enough room to raise his head, feeling like a bug caught midway in a straw. His sweaty hands slid on the metal, his boots moving like slipping paddles as they propelled him forward on his belly.
Myshia's was already far ahead, her considerably smaller build enabling her to move with ease.
Shaun gripped the laser pistol in his hand as he pulled himself along, cursing as he realised there was not even enough room for him to bring his elbow up in order to fire a shot over his shoulder.
A string of oaths and curses left his lips, his neck beginning to cramp, as he followed after Myshia's form.
Chapter Thirteen
Battle Damage.
All men think all men mortal, save themselves.
- Edmund Young.
The captain of the Federation scoopship Beodart bawled into the com-link.
"Status report! Where the hell are we?"
The huge interstellar liner floundered as another blow took it portside.
"We've been arrested from jumpspace, Captain," came the response. "Shields down, I -"
Static overrode the channel and a deep echo rumbled through the ship. The Captain knew immediately the engines had been destroyed, along with the crew down there.
Admiral Karthorn stood hands clasped behind his broad back, watching the silent battle ensue. The cylindrical shaped Rplore battleship blasted the Federation ship with volleys of nuclear missiles, each striking with calamitous effect. Karthorn watched the Beodart crumble as if it were nothing more than a freighter ship.
The interceptions were becoming more often now, he mused. More Federation ships were entering jumpspace, and increasingly more were being destroyed. With Rplore on alert the Urisa could afford to sit back and watch.
The Admiral was just turning away from the huge monitor when a sudden flash of light caught his eye. He paused, eyes narrowing, as the speck grew. It seemed to be coming from the half-demolished Federation ship.
Karthorn raised his voice, his gaze never leaving the speck. "Avatar - what is that?"
The five controllers were engaged in furious activity as multiple warning lights flashed.
The computer's voice was calm. "Incoming hostile missile. Auto defence laser locking in, T-minus three seconds."
Admiral Karthorn couldn't explain it, but he felt a rising sense of distress watching the speck growing into something recognisable as a thin missile. Invisible lasers arced out towards the missile, converging upon the piece of machinery like the fingers of a giant.
And missed.
"What's going on here?" shouted the Admiral, impatient with long seconds of just watching the missile home in.
"It's equipped with retro's," explained the nearest tech. "It won't stay still."
&n
bsp; He caught a flash out of the corner of his eye, just seconds before the missile impacted. A distant roar went through the ship as the brunt of the blow was absorbed by the shields.
The floor tilted as the artificial gravity skewed, hesitated, then rightened. Admiral Karthorn was already regaining his footing.
"Avatar! Damage report."
"Processing..." the computer responded smoothly. Then, a second later; "Minimal structural damage to aft quarter. Repair crews are already mobilised."
"Air leak?"
"Negative. Fire control systems operating and damaged section is being sealed off. The force of the blast was taken by centre vent A-131."
Admiral Karthorn sank back into the command chair. He would let Avatar handle the repair job - he had more important concerns. He gave the order for the communications tech to connect him with the captain of the Rplore.
Captain Loakar's holographic image appeared. His face was calm and unruffled, for the rest of the battle had been executed without flaw. The Federation ship was now a burnt husk, and as he spoke salvage teams were already on their way over to see if anything of value was left.
"Yes, Admiral?"
"The Urisa's taken a hit," Admiral Karthorn growled.
Captain Loakar immediately lost his smugness. "Our scanners did not pick it up."
"Neither did ours until the missile was practically ontop of us. It managed to evade the defence lasers and bored straight into us."
The Captain's heavy brows knitted as he studied something off-screen. "Avatar has just beamed your status over...it seems nothing's damaged-"
"That's not the point!" cut off the Admiral. "The fact is that the Federation had missiles that had avoided lasers and radar! If the Federation ship had more of a chance she would have launched a salvo, and if that had of happened this ship would become a permeant satellite!"
"I've heard reports of an upgrade in Federation technology," replied Captain Loakar. "But this is the first I've seen of it. I'd bet that these new missiles come from the Skeeters."
The Admiral nodded - that made sense. The Skeeters were a highly developed race and had stayed out of the war until recently. Their alliance with the Federation meant the Hartrias Kingdom would be up against some deadly hardware.
The Admiral knew that if the Federation ship had been given time to reboot their offensive and defensive systems they would not have made such easy prey for the Rplore. It was only the fact that they had been caught unaware that turned the battle.
"We'll have to be more alert next time," said Captain Loakar.
But the Admiral was not as dismissing. "Have the Kingdom send updates on the new technology," he ordered. "I want the defence systems upgraded immediately to deal with these things."
"Aye, sir."
A punch of a button and the three dimensional image disappeared. The Admiral was about to ask for an update on the repair situation when a thought stuck him. His question was probably pedantic, but it was best to be safe.
"Avatar," he ordered. "What happened to those infiltrators? I trust they've been eliminated?"
The computer's face paused momentarily as it searched its databanks. "Last report was at 1903 hours. The missile hit must have disrupted comm lines temporarily. Going from the last report, it seems the threat has been eliminated."
The Admiral nodded. It was good to know that he no longer had hostile forces running the length of his ship. "Very well. Avatar, give me a full report on the aft sector."
* * *
Ashian heard Capac cursing in the darkness. A little light filtered down from overhead, casting narrow wedges of illumination amongst the tangled steel.
They lay in the wreckage of what had been the catwalk, its structure totally bent out of all symmetry. Ashian raised a shaking hand and moped his brow. As he pulled his arm away he noticed his leather sleeve was splattered in blood, and, mildly alarmed, probed for injury. As sensation began to come back he felt a growing stinging settle in, and he found a long narrow gash just below his eye. He dabbed cautiously at the wound, wincing as sparks of pain echoed through his mind.
Ashian relaxed for a moment, watching bright flashes dance before his eyes. His limbs were so leaden, he felt as if he could just lie here forever.
It was only with great effort that he opened his eyes again. Sudden realisation of where he was and the vulnerable position he was in drove vigour into his brain. All that concerned him now was getting out.
He moved, and was surprised to find that he could slip out of the twisted wreckage with ease. He blessed his good luck, knowing that if he had been just centimetres to either side he would have been pinned.
"Capac?" he called, knowing the eloprin was somewhere close. His call was answered and he scrambled over to intercept it.
"Capac," he breathed, suddenly feeling a whole lot better. The dreadful feeling of desperation and loneliness dissipated as he saw his companion grin in mock woe.
"I feel terrible," muttered Capac. He still lay with his back against the catwalk, a mass of steel poised over him.
"Are you alright?" questioned Ashian, already dropping to his knees to help.
"Bruised, but alive. Scroch, that was some fall." Capac heaved himself to his elbows then prised himself free. His gemlike eyes studied Ashian's form.
"You're hurt," he said abruptly.
Ashian shrugged and tenderly touched the gash that ran from just below his eye and ran down the length of his cheek. He knew it would scar.
"It's not bad. At least the bleeding has stopped."
Capac grunted and turned his attention to the darkness. "What happened?" he asked in a bemused tone. "The last thing I remember was crawling on my back away from the droids...the next thing I know...I'm here."
Ashian had retained consciousness and could remember vividly the chaos of the explosion. He related briefly the wall of fire that had swept the frail catwalk from it's mountings. "We must have fallen with it," he finished. He craned his neck upwards, but could only see darkness above. "Who knows how far we've fallen. It seemed like a long way."
Ashian had regained his footing and was looking around confusedly. "Looks like we're in some sort of bowl." Then he noticed rows upon rows of ducts leading into the cavernous bowl, as if they were pipes feeding to some sort of insanely huge scuba tank.
Capac did not spare any time for sightseeing. He had clambered atop the rumble, his eyes narrowed. "Can you see the others?"
Ashian suddenly felt a leaden sensation in his belly. If Myshia had been hurt...? And where was Shaun?
He had his infrared telescope out, looking for the bright red splotch that would be Shaun. He realised Myshia would not show up on the scope with the grease on her body.
Not if she's bleeding, a part of his mind whispered. If she's cut, her insides will show up like fire.
He angrily shook off the morbid thought and applied increased vigour into his searching. Still nothing showed.
They both looked up as one when the sound reached their ears. It came as a distant rattling, a sound that Capac recognised as gunfire. They saw small yellow flashes spark overhead, appearing and disappearing quickly. Intermixed with the yellow light was the harsh blue hue of laser fire.
Ashian felt an urge to take cover but he resisted, knowing by the echoes and subdued noise that the shots were being fired far overhead and were disjoint from their surrounds. Ashian was sure that they were not included in the fire fight - but who was?
He watched the flashes of light uneasily. "What do you think it is? The droids?"
"It has to be Shaun," grinned Capac in sudden relief. "Only he could stir 'em up like that."
Ashian grinned in spite of himself, feeling relief that Shaun was still alive and kicking. He momentarily forgot that the latter was still under fire. His unerring faith in Shaun led Ashian to the firm conclusion that the human would be about to pull himself out of any difficulty.
Capac had other concerns. "Do you think Myshia is with him?"
"I hope so." Ashian looked around worriedly. "She's not down here..."
"Then we have to assume Shaun's got her," finished Capac hurriedly. "I don't think it's safe for us to stay here much longer. I would guess the computer will have robots here soon."
Ashian swirled to face him. "You're right. Any ideas?"
Capac extended his arm in the direction of a secondary duct leading into the bowl like hollow they now sat in. "Head in there, and get ourselves lost deep in the machinery." As he spoke Capac started to move off towards their destination. "And keep moving upwards until we reach the others."
Ashian leapt over a twisted rung in the darkness and had to jog tiredly to keep up with Capac. His eyes were wide and nervous. "Do you think we'll find them?"
"We need to." Capac shrugged, indicating he was weaponless. "I lost my rifle on that fall, it could have fallen anywhere-"
He stopped, his weight balanced upon his toes, knees bent into a half-crouch and ears cocked, as he assumed the position of the stalking hunter. His seamless leather shoes made a grinding noise on the broken portions of flexiglass underfoot as he drew to a halt.
On the wall on the side of the bowl a door opened, spilling in faint white light from the narrow passageway beyond. A tall figure stepped into the darkened cavern like duct, heavy boots clanking on the stairs as he descended.
"Get down!" hissed Capac, already hunkering down low to the ground. Ashian followed his orders quickly, his breathing tight. The open door was only ten metres away to the side and about two metres higher than the level on which they stood. They sat still like rabbits caught between the headlights of a car as the figure walked closer. Ashian felt a prickling of fear down the back of his neck, knowing that the Sunlord was well within hearing range.
The two frozen natives jumped as a bellowing, incompressible shout rang out. Ashian half stumbled to his feet, poised to leap away - a motion that would have surely attracted the Sunlord's attention had not Capac held him back. "Stay still," he hissed.