Metal Boxes

by Alan Black

  Contact with the enemy started slowly. His suit registered the atmospheric pressure change first. The cabin pressure was rising as if air was leaking in. Then, he could see a small crack of light in the upper corner of the hatch. It stretched out and grew brighter. A rush of air whistled as the pressure between the shuttle pod and the hanger tried to equalize. Stone was sure the Hyrocanians breathed a comparable oxygen mix. They would not have attacked and tried to take over human colonies if they had not had close to the same physiology, with the same needs for oxygen, water and gravity.

  Stone would be protected whether they were compatible or not, but the drascos were not encased in combat suits designed to handle vacuum. They were tough creatures, but they still needed something to breathe.

  A hook slid into the crack. It clamped tight against the hatch and the frame. Jay’s tail spike jabbed at the light. It connected with the hook, shattering the chrome cover on the steel tip, but it snapped the hook off cleanly. She bellowed. It was a noise Stone had only heard once before, in a clearing on Allie’s World when the huge male drasco ripped through the trees in anger.

  Stone shrugged to himself; no one would have seen it inside the suit. He reached forward with the butt of his gun and slammed it against the emergency hatch release. A series of explosions ripped along the hatch frame, misfiring wherever the Hyrocanians had breached the seal. The explosions were followed by a secondary explosion that blew the hatch free at the top and sides.

  Stone grinned. The three metric ton hatch had slammed down to become a ramp, mercilessly crushing whatever or whoever was trying to peel it open. Along the edge of the ramp he could see mashed body parts, wiggling body parts, and parts that had become independent of their original owners.

  A cluster of Hyrocanians were gathered at the foot of the ramp holding ropes and nets, obviously intent of taking anyone in the shuttle alive. Melendez had shown him enough video footage for Stone to know that being taken alive was not the preferable course of action.

  The Hyrocanians were vaguely humanoid. They had eyes, ears, a nose and a mouth all in the right places, except the eyes were too small, the ears were hinged, the nose was too big and the mouth was jammed full with four sets of teeth. The upper and lower sets chewed horizontally and the side sets chewed vertically. Their bodies were, as far as Stone could tell, completely hairless and they were covered in slick oil that oozed from their pasty skin.

  It was hard to tell the size of the Hyrocanians in combat armor, but the rest were naked to the waist and no more than a foot taller or shorter than Stone. But they all massed much more than he did. Most of their bulk appeared to be roll upon roll of fat. He could not tell whether they were male or female.

  Stone shook his head and said out loud. “No thank you, I don’t want to know if you are male or female.”

  The most noticeable difference between them was that the Hyrocanians had four arms. The second set grew out of the same shoulder socket as the first set. The first set of arms was jointed to grab forward just like humans, but the second set was hinged to grab behind.

  The small cluster of Hyrocanians at the foot of the ramp must have been all that was left of the plan to take Stone alive. There was a second group forming a semi-circle behind the first group. The second group was encased in the Hyrocanian version of combat armor and was armed with hand-to-hand and shoulder fired weapons. Either they were under orders to take Stone alive or the first group was in their way. Whatever the reason, they did not immediately bring their guns to bear.

  Without waiting for an invitation, Stone squeezed the trigger on the TDO-960A. He sprayed the armored group with the blood of the unarmored Hyrocanians. Where he missed flesh the bullets spanged off the Hyrocanian armor, ricocheting across the hanger.

  Jay and Peebee screeched challenges and roared in anger, but stood their ground beside Stone. A couple of armored Hyrocanians, oblivious to Stone’s hail of bullets, reached down and picked up blood splattered ropes and nets from the pile of bodies at their feet and began to moving slowly up the ramp.

  Stone took his finger off the trigger. The bullets were not having any affect on the Hyrocanian armor.

  A three fingered hand grasped the side of the hatchway. A half naked Hyrocanian levered itself onto the ramp with surprising agility for a body covered in rolling fat. Peebee’s tail spike shot forward like a pike and speared the creature through an arm. Blood spurted startling the young drasco. She screeched and whipped her tail back and forth trying to shake the Hyrocanian loose.

  Jay stretched her neck across Stone and clamped her jaws on a flailing Hyrocanian wrist. She yanked up and backward trying to free her sister. Peebee twisted her tail to the side. Pulling in opposite directions didn’t dislodge the Hyrocanian; instead it hung across the opening, stretched out as it dangled with its feet off the deck.

  Stone put the sole of a boot in the middle of the Hyrocanian and pushed with the enhanced power of the combat suit. The greasy, fat creature flew backwards crashing into the two armored Hyrocanians moving slowly up the ramp.

  Jay spit out the Hyrocanian hand and bellowed a challenge. She leapt forward, slamming between two suits sending them smashing into other suited figures. She landed with all four feet on the chest of a third armored figure.

  Stone recognized the move. It was a tackling move Jay employed when playing against suited marines and navy when she was trying to recover her ball. The suits might be strong, but the angry drasco shoved the Hyrocanian to the deck. She stomped. Hard.

  Peebee still had a Hyrocanian arm dangling from her tail spike. She bellowed in rage. She charged after her sister, but instead of leaping, she whipped her tail. It connected hip high on a suit sending the creature careening into another suited figure and they crashed to the deck. She grabbed a suit encased Hyrocanian with her arms, held it over her body and shook.

  No matter how protected a suit was, they were not equipped with inertial dampeners. The creature inside the armor rattled back and forth. In very short order, it quit flailing about.

  Peebee tossed it aside and grabbed another.

  Two suited figures got between the drascos and trudged up the ramp, moving side by side, stretching a net between them. Stone swung a clenched fist. He connected with the side of a Hyrocanian helmet, but the creature grabbed his arm, trying to wrap him in netting. Stone did not want to fire with Jay and Peebee so close, but he was out of options. He put the muzzle against the chest of the Hyrocanian suit and pulled the trigger. The slugs bounced back, caromed off Stone’s suit and ricocheted off into the distance.

  Stone saw Jay still standing on a suited figure, drive her tail like a jackhammer against the armor of a Hyrocanian trying to grapple with her. The spike was slamming hard enough to keep the thing away from her, but not hard enough to pierce the armor. The spike skidded and slid upward, then Jay jabbed her tail spike through the face shield, shattering the visor. She yanked it free with a screech that was either metal and bone on glass or a dying Hyrocanian.

  Stone dropped the rifle and felt it snap back into the shoulder holster. He twisted the band around the suit’s left forearm triggering the cutting torch function. He jammed the blue hot flame against a Hyrocanian face plate. He could see the Hyrocanian face behind the visor. The little eyes grew larger as Stone melted a small hole shattering the visor and sizzling into the face behind it. He turned to the second Hyrocanian, lengthened the flame and burned it’s visor.

  Stone snapped off the torch and unholstered his rifle again. He glanced upward at the ceiling and said, “Crap! Well, at least it ain’t outside.” He advanced slowly down the shuttle ramp.

  Two of the suited things had finally grabbed Jay and were working to tie her hands. One of them looked up in time to catch a small burst of bullets from Stone through the visor.

  Jay threw the remaining Hyrocanian to the deck and impaled it, shattering the faceplate.

  The enemy broke and ran. Stone fired at their retreating backs. He knew it was useless, but it felt g
ood.

  A second set of suited figures raced toward them across the hanger deck.

  “Crap!” Stone shouted. “These guys look like they don’t mean to take us alive. Stay close, girls.” He dropped to one knee, hoping to steady his aim. Peebee shot past him before he could squeeze the trigger. “No, Peebee. Get back!” He was not much of a combat veteran, but he knew if they separated they would be cut down one at a time.

  Peebee raced past the first of the advancing figures and leaped at an armored suit. She hit it with such force it was knocked off its feet. She landed on its chest and whipped her head down. If Stone had not known better he thought it looked like she was trying to eat the creature’s face.

  Stone shifted his aim and almost squeezed the trigger when he heard a voice.

  “Peebee! Get off me.”

  “Hammer?” Stone shouted. He realized then that these suits only had one set of arms. “Marines!”

  “Oooyah!” a dozen voices roared back.

  “So much for radio silence, you mutts,” Allie shouted, her voice echoing across comms. “Hammer, get off your can, quit playing with Peebee. Grab your packages and let’s get out of Dodge.” She spun and ran toward the closed hanger hatch.

  There were a dozen voices laughing as they grabbed their crotches, shouting back. “I got my package, Lu.”

  Stone was not sure what a dodge looked like, but if it bore any resemblance to the inside of a Hyrocanian spacecraft hanger he as all for getting out. He also wasn’t sure who Lu was, but if she was leading the way out, then he was going to follow.

  Two marines grabbed him by the shoulder and spun him away from the shuttle and half carried him toward the hanger hatch. They dropped him next to Allie. She looked at him through a clear visor. She did not smile, but she winked.

  Stone saw two other marines tossing what looked like backpacks into the shuttle.

  Four other marines laid strips of explosive cord in a wide loop on the hanger door. Allie held a remote detonator in her hand, her finger twitching over the button.

  “Let’s go, people. We are burning daylight here,” Allie said.

  Stone shouted. “Don’t blow the doors! Jay and Peebee can’t breathe vacuum.”

  “I can’t get ‘em in their boxes,” Hammermill spoke calmly.

  Stone saw two marines holding an emergency medical box. It would be big enough for a drasco if it had been stripped out. The med-boxes could seal against vacuum and would allow for any wounded to breathe until a medic could get to them. A second team was trying to get Jay into another box. Neither drasco wanted to get in a box. There was a third box, but it lay abandoned on the deck. Someone had melted the controls and the interior functions. Stone realized the third box was for him, but since he was in a suit it was not necessary.

  “Hammer!” Stone shouted. He pulled an ooze brick from a hip container and threw it at the marine. Hammer missed as the throw went wide, but another marine caught the toss.

  “We have company coming back,” a voice called out. The words were punctuated by weapons fire lighting up the dark corners of the hanger bay.

  The marine with the ooze did not waste time. He ripped the chunk of dried tree sap into two pieces and tossed half in each box. Both drascos dove into the boxes after their candy. The lids to the med-boxes slammed shut.

  “Fire in the hole,” Allie shouted and hit the toggle on her detonator.

  A wide, gaping hole appeared in the hanger hatch. The piece blew out and barely missed the edge of a marine shuttle hanging in space a few meters away. Atmosphere sucked at them as everything that was not nailed down or in a combat suit blew out the impromptu exit.

  At the same time as the hatch blew, two muffled explosions rocked the shuttle. Stone could see his shuttle begin to fold in on itself. It quickly melted into a puddle and sank into the deck plating.

  Two marines raced forward carrying a med-box. They threw it out of the hatch exit and directly into the open hatch of the marine shuttle. They leapt out the hole and followed their charge across. The second team tossed the other drasco.

  Stone glanced across the hanger. He saw a line of marines backing toward the hatch door firing weapons as they moved. He did not know what type of weapons they were shooting, but they were definitely more powerful than his TDO-960A. He could not see what they were firing at, but wherever they shot it tore holes in the Hyrocanian ship. He started to reach for his weapon to move and help them, but two marines grabbed him and tossed him out through the hole in the hatch and across the open space.

  He flailed at the vacuum, trying to guide his flight, but flew through the open hatch, crashed to the deck and slid to a stop in a heap. He looked up into the visor of a grizzled old marine master chief.

  “Get up, Mister Stone,” the woman said. “Move it! Do you wanna get stepped on!”

  EPILOGUE

  ‘Get up, Mister Stone. Move or you’re gonna get stepped on.’ The voice still rang in Stone’s ears even after nine weeks. Sometimes the voice in his head was a grizzled old marine and sometimes it was the voice of Senior Chief Tsosie. ‘Move or get stepped on.’ ‘Get up and move.’ Stone grinned. It had almost become his mantra.

  He had not had much option but to keep moving.

  The Periodontitis had saved the fleet. The Ol’ Toothless had proved that while she may have been toothless, the old girl still had plenty of scrap left in her. Melendez had come out of hyperspace and driven her through the gap in the Hyrocanian containment bubble. Moments after the marines pulled him and his drascos out of the hanger Melendez pounded the shieldless Hyrocanian spaceship to rubble while using his shields to protect three fleet ships. They had completely broken the back of the Hyrocanian containment bubble. Those enemy ships that could escape had jumped to hyperspace, the rest were pounded to scrap by a reinvigorated fleet.

  While the Periodontitis supplied the fleet, Stone and his drascos were wined and dined on dozens of ships. He was hailed as a hero and the savior of the fleet. Wherever he went enlisted ratings lined the corridors to catch a glimpse of him. Admirals shook his hand, clasped him on the back and in one case, hugged him with tears in his eyes.

  Stone was relieved when he had ordered them back into hyperspace. A lot of people had been involved in saving the fleet. He kept insisting to every admiral who pinned another medal on him that there were others who deserved it more than he. They had just laughed and gave him more medals. He was tired of fancy dinners, fancy dances and fancy dress uniforms.

  Agent Storovitch had been overjoyed when the fleet was completely resupplied and Stone could finally order Melendez to set course for Lazzaroni Station. He was so excited to be getting his investigation back on track that he kissed Commander Wright in front of everyone. He was embarrassed at first, but lost his embarrassment when she grabbed him by the ears and kissed him back.

  He knew hyperspace meant five weeks transit time, but this time he was determined to ‘get up and get moving’. The five weeks fairly flew by as he jumped into his studies. He did not lack for tutors, but Allie shooed them all away and returned to teaching. She was determined to keep her distance because of his captaincy, her duties to teach him and to be the head of his security detail. She was a great teacher and a superb protector, but she failed miserably at keeping her distance.

  Stone even did a few shifts in third watch warehouse three-whiskey. He was surprised when P.O. Watkins showed up sober every shift in a spotless uniform. He was also surprised when Ensign Shultz from first watch bounced prettily in to relieve him early each time he pulled a watch, flirting shamelessly with him each time.

  He was relentless in his ‘get up and go’ attitude. He thought it would become annoying to others, but he was surprised at how infectious it became to the officers and crew around him. The trip flew by.

  Before she had clearance to dock, the U.E.N.S. Periodontitis was redirected to head for lockdown at the navy yards. Her crew had not been cleared by the E.M.I.S. agents and was being held on board. He was relieve
d of command and told to take some time with his family.

  Stone now found himself walking down the corridor on Lazzaroni Station between the navy shuttle docks and the class B waiting area. He was wearing his dress midshipman’s uniform. It almost jangled with a dozen shiny metals and colored bits of metal-backed ribbons. The pant legs were striped with the blood red seam marking him as having been a captain of an Emperor’s spacecraft that had seen actual combat. Many navy captains never earn their combat stripe no matter how exalted their rank. He was not sure any other midshipman had ever earned the stripe.

  Still, Stone felt naked. Without thinking, he felt his collar for the missing captain’s tab.

  “Do you miss the captain’s patch?” Allie asked.

  Stone smiled at her. She was in her best marine uniform and looked stunning. She walked beside him although she was no longer head of his security detail.

  “No,” Stone shook his head. “I didn’t think I had been a captain long enough to even notice when they took it away, but I do feel lighter than before.”

  “Yeah, command feels that way sometimes.”

  They glanced behind them at the short squad of marines following them. They were a mishmash of officer ranks and a variety of uniform styles, some with baggage and some without. Except for him and Commander Wright, the marines were the only personnel allowed off the Periodontitis. Allie and Lieutenant Heller were the only marines with him that were permanently assigned to the Periodontitis. The remainder were transient marines transferring to other stations. Maggot, Bob and Jake trailed along behind the marines.

  Stone had argued that many of the crew of the Ol’ Toothless had gone above and beyond in saving the fleet. He and Commander Melendez had approved dozens of commendations. He believed holding them without allowing outside communications was unjustified. He had been overruled by Maggot, by Maggot’s boss’s boss and by the fleet admiral in charge of all naval operations in the sector.