by Chris Hechtl
“Frack!” the dwarf snarled. “Get security on this!” he snarled. Then his eyes saw the twisted ruin of the docks. He moaned. “Son of a bitch!” he hissed between clenched teeth. “When I get my hands on them …”
“I'll help. But we're going to need a lot of help to get them within arm's reach I suspect,” Ali said, indicating the dot that was dwindling quickly away from them. Lights blinked on her flanks, and then her stern lit up as her sublight drive kicked on.
<===@^{:::}{<
Roger grinned as he noted the hijackers in main engineering. They had the doors locked down and had cut the video feeds, but there was more than one way to skin a cat.
Or in this case, stop a hijacking. “They locked themselves in engineering, but they don't realize this is a big ship. They just bottled themselves up.” He pointed to two of the techs. “The XO locked down the weapons control remotely, but we need to disconnect the ODN lines from the bridge to weapons control. Do that.”
“On it,” the first tech said with a nod. She took off for a Jeffrey's tube. She pulled the cover off, tossed it aside, then climbed in with her partner behind her.
“Smart. It'll take longer, but it avoids the bastards in the companionways,” the Chief engineer said in admiration. He made a mental note to commend the young woman's initiative later, if there was a later. “You two with me. We'll disable the hyperdrive and seriously screw them up,” the chief engineer said, pointing to the remaining techs. They nodded. “You know, why don't you two go take the nearest power room. Shut it down. Scram it.”
“Sir?”
“You heard me. Scram it. That's an order. Do the same for every reactor you can get to. Then get back to me,” he said.
The techs nodded dubiously but then took off when he looked expectantly at them.
He snorted once and then consulted his internal map before he went to a nearby Jeffrey tube and pulled the panel off. “Piss me off, huh? Frack with my ship? Kill my crewmates? I'm done playing games,” he snarled as he climbed inside and started up the ladder.
<===@^{:::}{<
“Armories are locked down, Captain,” PFC Watson reported. “All we have are the sidearms some of us had while on duty—those of us who hadn't been killed I mean,” he reported. He'd been stationed outside the captain's quarters when all hell had broken loose. He'd bagged one of the bastards before he'd headed out looking for more.
“Do what you can.”
“Yes, sir. I know we can't cut our way into the armory, not in the time we have. It's too well armored to resist that.”
“Yes I know. There is a small weapons locker in my quarters. The same for the bridge. I'm assuming they got the bridge locker. Send a team to my quarters to secure it.” The captain uploaded the codes to open the locker to the PFC.
“Sir, I'm not comfortable leaving you exposed,” the marine stated, frowning.
“Then be quick about it,” the captain ordered.
“Aye aye, sir,” the marine replied. He handed over his sidearm and then took off at a trot, grabbing two orange and green clad crew members along the way to follow in his wake.
<===@^{:::}{<
Mister Brown, aka Knight One, shook his head as he listened to the tactical reports. Miss Red covered him. He took his weapon out, checked his ammunition count, and then put the weapon back. “Be careful of your ammunition. It looks like some of the teams are almost dry. We're not picking up many weapons since the armories are locked down. It's a problem.”
“Definitely,” Miss Red replied. Her voice was slightly muffled by the mask. She shook her hair out, adjusted the scrunchy, and then reapplied it to put her hair up in a pony tail. “I'm counting three hundred on board initially, and Boogeyman killed what, half that?”
“Try one twenty,” the head assassin said, casually looking around. He wished he had a pocket mirror to better check corners without exposing himself. “Always be pessimistic with crap like that or it'll bite you in the ass.”
“I wish we'd thought of that before doing this,” Miss Red replied. “So, one twenty down, and another twenty to forty trapped. And I'm guessing the Pawns aren't the single-shot types,” she said.
“You can't get a single shot each time. Remember taking the bridge? We had to fire covering fire and of course missed,” Knight One replied.
“So, when we're out, we are out and down to our knives.”
“And they can get those from the galley,” the head assassin warned.
“You are just full of good cheer today,” Miss Red sighed. He hand signed for quiet then motioned for her to follow him.
<===@^{:::}{<
PFC Watson picked up the captain's small weapon cache as well as a tablet and the captain's skinsuit. He returned to hand them over. “Good work,” the captain replied. He took one of the weapons from his locker and handed the PFC's sidearm back. “This one is more my style,” he said simply.
“Aye aye, sir,” the PFC said, cracking a smile. He handed over the spare clips and then the tablet. “Thought you could use these too, sir,” he said.
“Good call. Form a party and go hunting. We're in contact with the other marines. They are lightly armed, but they are trying to get into the brig to get the weapons there. DCC Team 4 Baker is helping them.”
“Aye, sir. I'll see if I can give them some cover and keep the flies off them until they can get in there. It'd be nice if we could get into the armories though.”
“Yes, I know.”
The PFC frowned. “Sir, anyway you can see if we had a shipment coming in? I know some stuff is supposed to be sent directly to its intended destination but sometimes things get hung up or misdirected.”
“You are thinking weapons were sent to a cargo locker?”
“I know it's a stretch, sir,” the PFC said. “At the least we can see if we have armor or more ammo available, sir,” he said.
The captain gave a human nod and then turned to hand the tablet over to a Neodog sailor. “You do it. Check the inventory lists; they are on the tablet,” he said. He sent a code to unlock it. “Get back to the PFC with what you find.”
“Aye aye, sir,” the dog said, flicking his ears.
“Since we have pressure in the compartment, you can change in here, sir,” the PFC said, indicating a head.
“Convenient,” the captain said, draping his skinsuit over one arm. “I'll be back in a moment. Good hunting, PFC.”
“Aye aye, sir.”
<===@^{:::}{<
“No!” Mister Tan, Bishop Three wailed. He pounded on his station with his fists in frustration.
“What?” Mister Black demanded as all eyes were drawn to the navigator.
“They took out one of the reactors and the hyperdrive! We're screwed!”
“How?”
“We can't be in every place at once!” the navigator said. “This isn't a freighter! It's a warship! Four reactors, not one to secure, the hyperdrive is off on its own,” he said, throwing a hand out to one side, “multiple drive rooms and weapon rooms to secure … that we got this far is a miracle,” he said, running a frustrated hand through his hair.
“Can you fix it?”
“From here no. They physically disconnected the hyperdrive. It'll take hours to fix it unless they butchered the cables,” he shook his head.
“Keep us running,” King ordered.
“Where?” the navigator demanded, laughing bitterly as he waved a hand to the void. “In case you haven't noticed, there is nowhere to run to,” he snarled sarcastically.
There was a long silence as they digested that and the death knell of their plan.
“We've got more trouble. We've got limited sensors. I just picked up IFFs and sensor contacts. Shuttles are inbound,” Bishop One stated flatly in the ensuing silence.
“We can still fix this. Get the point defense online,” King ordered.
“We can't. They locked the weapons down. No remote access, we have to get to each station and man them,” Queen stated.
“Fra
ck, we're so fracked,” Bishop Three said, shaking his head. He laughed, hands going to his mouth as tears streamed down his face.
“Get a hold of yourself,” Mister Black growled. “There is always a way; you're just not seeing it. Get us moving. Change course randomly, keep the flies off us. Buy the teams time to finish the job.”
“Right,” Bishop One said, but her heart wasn't in it.
“Right?” Mister Black demanded, one heavy hand on the navigator's shoulder. “Otherwise,” he said in the man's ear. “… I don't need a navigator anymore,” he murmured softly, almost lovingly.
“I'll figure something out,” Bishop Three said quietly.
Mister Black squeezed his shoulder until the man winced and then patted it as he let it go. “Good man,” he said, walking back to his chair. He sat down heavily, rubbed his brow then activated the comm system. “Knight One, you'd better still be alive. I need you and Knight Two to drop your sweep and hit engineering hard. The Pawns there aren't doing the job right, and it just bit us in the ass.”
“Roger,” a scratchy voice replied a moment later. Mister Black grimaced and then turned to the next problem.
<===@^{:::}{<
Knight One looked around, unsure of where the bastard had gone. He'd seen someone come out, and he'd also seen a damn elf duck into a low air return. The elf he could deal with later; there was no way in hell he was going to flush out the little bastard in the warren of air ducts, not anytime soon.
But the human, he was a different story. He trotted around the corner to find the two Pawns from the bridge trying to figure out their map and obviously arguing about the directions.
“Problem?” he demanded.
“This damn map is screwed up.”
“No, you're the one screwed up,” Jock snarled. “We're low on ammo.”
“Join the club. Single shots. Use hand to hand as much as possible,” the assassin stated, going past them. “You didn't see anyone come through here?” he demanded. “Not too long ago?”
“We would have chased him down if he had,” Mo said. He frowned and looked around the companionway. He could hear something, a faint whine picking up in pitch and volume. “What the hell is that?” he demanded.
“Trouble,” Knight Two said, looking around as well. She closed her eyes and focused on her aural senses. She narrowed it down to an area behind a bulkhead. She went over cautiously.
“Careful,” Knight One warned, glancing at her and then to the intersection nearby. “You cover the other direction,” he said pointing to Mo.
“Wh …,” Mo cut himself off before he said anything else stupid. He shrugged and went to the corner to check. He was careful. He knelt and popped his head for a second, then did it again when he realized the coast was clear. He gave a thumbs-up.
“It's …,” Miss Red managed to check the panel for booby traps and pull it off but the whine had changed to a steady tone. She grimaced and reached around the plasma conduit until she felt something with her fingernails. She knelt and tried to get a look. “Something's back there. I don't know,” she said.
“We should get clear,” Jock warned just as the fires from hell erupted in the female assassin's face. The plasma breach vaporized her as well as Jock, and then rebounded off the opposite bulkhead before he split and rampaged down the companionway in either direction.
Knight One heard the sound, looked back and got a few meters before he saw someone coming at him. His instincts kicked in, but they played him false. He took cover just as the plasma breach reached him and tore him apart in screaming agony.
Mo managed to get a half a dozen meters before he tripped over a near invisible line. He went down, and the plasma found him. He kicked, screaming and cursing as he tried to get away from the superheated stream. The stream had lost some of its temperature upon exposure to the air and surroundings, but it still burned hot enough to sear the man. Instead of being vaporized he writhed and twisted until the fire and pain overwhelmed his nervous system and he fainted.
<===@^{:::}{<
“Hard way to go,” the elf said over her implants as she vacated the ducts she'd been hiding in.
“Better than some of the stuff they did to our crewmates,” Commander Young replied. “You leave the holo projector behind?” he asked.
“Yeah,” the elf replied. “Should I have brought it with me, sir?”
“Never mind. We can try another trick,” the engineer replied. They had used a hologram of himself running to get the group concentrated, then another to make one of the hijackers stop running away to be vaporized. “Got more of that line? I think we can weave some webs for the right flies,” he said.
“Yeah. I wish I had some molecular line though,” the elf replied, “or a torch.”
“Now who's the one being vicious?” Commander Young asked. “A cutting torch though …,” the possibilities immediately presented themselves to him. With some minor modification, the torch would work as a jim-dandy improvised weapon. “Now you're talking! I'll check the nearest DCC station. You meet me there,” Commander Young ordered. “And pass the DCC idea to anyone in range,” he ordered.
“Aye aye, sir,” she said dubiously as she slid down a panel into a junction.
<===@^{:::}{<
“Plasma breach, deck eleven. Knight One and Two, plus the two Pawns from the bridge are down,” Queen reported dispassionately. The bridge crew looked up, surprised. “Engineering is locking down the leak. Don't bother asking status on the group; they are well beyond done and closer to vaporized. Definitely so with Knight Two,” she said.
“Not funny,” Bishop One said. She sucked in a breath and then let it out. Her eyes fell on the boss. “Sir?”
“Keep the Pawns moving. Find the crew and eliminate them,” he ordered, not looking up from his station.
Bishop One shook her head and locked eyes with the A.I. The A.I.'s avatar shrugged helplessly. She turned to look at Mister Gray but he too was busy. She frowned and then returned to her work. It was all she had left it seemed.
<===@^{:::}{<
Commander Young looked up to see the lights flicker. He hoped someone would lock the plasma breech down soon; there were magazines close by. They'd eat their way through eventually. He shook his head and then accessed the tablet. Sure enough there was the magazine but also one of Leopold's A.I. core rooms. As he stared at the Damage Control Tablet, the rooms went dark and flashed red. “Oops,” he muttered.
“We've got more company coming. Four of them,” came over an open text on his HUD. He looked up sharply then nodded once. He put the tablet away and picked up the torch. He'd worry about the damage and the fallout later.
<===@^{:::}{<
Dale, aka Pawn Seven, wasn't a happy camper. He'd done his mission, killed two clips worth of sailors, but they seemed unending. He knew they'd chased one into the compartment but he'd barricaded himself inside what looked like a closet on the schematic.
His team had completed two side missions, but he'd lost contact with engineering and the other fire team. He knew damn well he'd get his ass chewed when he finally came in, tail wagging. Hopefully bagging this last guy would keep him in any good graces that were required.
It wasn't like they could just shoot him or space him. They needed every friendly warm body. Especially now more than ever.
“I heard someone on the other side of this bulkhead,” Pawn Seven said, pointing to a compartment wall. He cautiously leaned in and pressed his ear to the wall. He frowned, trying to listen for someone but then he heard a click. He nodded. “Yeah, someone's …”
He got about that far before the modified cutting torch tore through the bulkhead and his head. A device designed to cut through frame members and bulkheads to rescue a trapped crew was more than a match for his soft tissue. He didn't get a chance to scream as the water in his head flash boiled and exploded into steam.
One moment he was there, the next his headless corpse was crumpling. The other Pawns gaped in shock and horror, momentarily
overcome by the loss.
The elf managed to loop a wire down through an air duct around the neck of one of them. The improvised noose made him grab for it. The others turned to him allowing Commander Young to relocate and then launch a second attack, this time super heating a water line with the torch.
“What the hell?” a Pawn demanded, turning to help his comrade. His hands clawed at the line. He got enough of a grip with his gloved hands to put some weight on it, but the elf had wound the other end around a pipe several times.
“Get his feet up. Give me some slack here!” Dan snarled just as the water pipe burst. It sprayed water towards them. He coughed, looking away.
He missed seeing the electrical lines that had been spot welded to the deck he was standing on. Commander Young threw the improvised switch and a thousand amps of electrical current flooded the compartment killing the three remaining men. They jittered and then fell, their hearts stopped, their bodies burned.
“That's four more. We've got what, four more in engineering to take care of?” the elf asked as she came out of hiding.
“Four outside. I'm not sure how many in main engineering,” he said.
“I can look,” she offered.
“Do that and get back to me,” the commander ordered, cutting off the power. He made certain the power was off before he went to a valve and turned it, shutting the water flow off or at least getting it down to a trickle. He waded through the water to the first body, kicked it, then picked up the weapon and then with his free hand searched the guy's pockets for ammo or other goodies.
“Yeah, I'll um, yeah,” the elf said, clearly shaken by the seemingly casual nature of her commander's actions. “I'll be back, sir,” she said.
“Yeah, get on that,” Young said absently as he continued to secure the weapons.
<===@^{:::}{<
“Four more Pawns have gone dark. Vital signs flatlined. Engineering is turning into a black hole,” Queen warned.