6:27:32
"I don't know what to tell you, Blake…" Anderson
said, rising from the corpse and shaking his head. "Whatever these things
are, they sure aren't natural. This armor, it's fused to the tissues, but
not like it was fused on later. More like it was grown there. Frankly,
the some of the tissues themselves don't really look like they are from
the same creature."
"So what are you telling me, doc?" Blake asked,
trying to be patient.. "I asked you if these things used to be human. Are
you telling me these things are synthetic? Clones of some sort?"
"No… no, I don't think they are clones." Anderson
hesitated. "They don't have the synth look of cloned tissues. It's almost
like they are some sort of patchwork. There are areas that look like they
should be scars, but instead you just get more unmatched muscle."
Blake blew out his breath, nice and slow. "Okay…
You are the expert, and you don't know what these things are. What do you
need, so you can find out?"
Anderson looked pale. "Med-bay four has a DNA scanner.
If I can get some time there, I should be able to give you some better
answers. Just don't get me killed."
Blake looked away and smiled. Normally a comment
like that might have been offensive, but Med-bay four was outside of their
controlled zone, so it was noteworthy that Anderson was even willing to
suggest it.
"Don't worry, Anderson. We'll do our best to make
sure that you don't even hear any gunfire."
Plugging in the last connection on the camera, Blake
saw the green light flicker to life and gave a sigh of relief. The detail
work was nerve wracking when you never knew when a combat drone was going
to come around a corner… Straightening, he brought up the security schematic.
The repaired camera showed as an amber dot, next to the green dot indicating
him.
Damn. Further down the screen, Blake noticed a cluster
of red moving through one of the corridors. He thought they had sealed
that area… Maybe the drones had burned through a door? For a moment he
watched the patrol, figuring out where its route would take it. Abruptly
he lurched into motion, his plasma rifle swinging forward into his hand.
"Hansen- you have incoming. They must have come
through hull breech four, where we don't have cameras yet… We'll figure
it out later. Problem is they are inside our perimeter." Recklessly, Blake
ran full-speed down the corridors, the deck plates ringing with his heavy
footsteps. "All the other bulkheads are sealed in that area, Hansen. They
are going to get funneled right through med-bay!"
"Gotcha, boss." Hansen's voice was fuzzy- his armor
must have fed him more painkillers. "I've got the brain covered…"
"No good, Hansen. There are too many of them. Fall
back from the intersection, to Med-bay's door. I know you won't have the
power coupling, but all you have to do is hold them there long enough for
me to get to you."
Hansen's only reply was a hiss of pain as he started
to move. He was a die-hard marine, tough as nails, but like all the other
marines Blake had, he was walking wounded. In his case it was his legs.
Bad enough to keep him doped, and he moved like a turtle, but he could
still shoot. Blake just hoped he could shoot well enough.
Blake hit the A4 intersection still running full-tilt.
Though they were right in front of him, he almost missed the second patrol
in the dim emergency lighting. At the last minute he saw the fusion cutter's
flare and threw himself into the cross corridor just as the shock wave
roared past.
"Goldstien! Where are you at?" Blake barked, switching
channels.
"All clear here, sir. Just passing secondary engineering,
at F8." Goldstien was a youngster, his first term. He had been chewed up
pretty good in the assault, but was more mobile then the rest, so Blake
had him holding one of the choke points further out. "I should be in position
in a few…"
"Shut up, Goldstien! I am pinned down at A4." Blake
interrupted roughly. He could hear the drones moving up the corridor. Without
bothering to look, he poked his plasma rifle around the corner and squeezed
of a few blasts.
"Understood, sir! I will get there as soon as I
can!" Goldstein sounded far too enthusiastic.
"I said shut up, Goldstien!" Blake yelled, as plasma
fire lanced up the corridor again. "I am fine, but they are going to hit
Hansen at Med-bay four. I need you to go and support him- I can't get there
in time."
Even as he heard Goldstien acknowledge, Blake knew
that he wouldn't make it in time. Poking his head around the corner, he
counted six combat drones. Though humanoid, they looked somewhat insect-like,
their composite armor bonded straight to their flesh. At least they didn't
have shields. Blake set his own armor's shield generators to full, and
set the plasma rifle to maximum power. It would eat up energy like crazy,
but he didn't have time to finesse this.
Leaping around the corner, he caught the first drone
in the head, and it fell bonelessly to the floor. The second one took some
hits before they could react, but then it got messy. His shields flashed
as they reacted to near misses, then glowed red at a solid hit. Out of
the corner of his eye he saw the readouts dropping, but didn't stop. A
couple more shots and the second drone went down, wreathed in plasma.
The third had the fusion cutter. Doctrine says never
take a fusion cutter at close range, but he had no choice. At the last
second he jinked, dodging the core of the blast, but even so, at that distance
most of the shield indicators bottomed out. Pivoting as he rushed past,
Blake shot the gunner point-blank in the back with the plasma rifle. Good
as marine powered armor was, he certainly couldn't take a second shot like
that.
Despite their confusion, the drones were still firing.
Blake felt his armor take several hits, but nothing had blown through,
yet. The fourth fell as he passed, but the other two would have to wait
till later. Zigzagging a little, he managed to turn a corner before they
scored too many times.
"Talk to me, Hansen!" Blake yelled into the radio,
panting slightly.
The reply was garbled by the sound of plasma fire,
and the strange, keening cries of dying drones. Through the chaos he heard
a voice yelling "Boss, there are just too many of them!" Then there were
more human sounds of pain, along with Hansen roaring "Take that you bastard!
Bastards! You bastards!"
Gritting his teeth, Blake changed channels, knowing
how that would end. "Anderson, tell me what's happening." He snapped, trying
to keep his voice calm.
"Jesus, Blake, you've got to get me out of here!"
Anderson's voice was panicked. "Hansen didn't make it to the hatch in time-
he is still in the corridor. All I can see is a lot of plasma fire and
flames…" Anderson's pause was punctuated by a muffled explosion. "Oh God,
Blake- he's down. All I have is a sidearm, I am so fucking dead, so fucked…"
"All right, Anderson, this is what I want you to
do." Still racing towards the battle, Blake tried to sound in control.
"Drones are not very smart, so I want you to play dead. Are you listening
to me Anderson? Play dead. We know they take the bodies, Anderson- if you
are already dead, you may get taken last. At the very least, we get another
chance to intercept them."
"I hope you're right, Blake. Oh God, they're here…"
Anderson's voice was little more than a whisper. "Get me out of here, Blake.
I don't fucking want to die…"
By the time Blake got there, it was all over. Weaving between
the bodies that littered the corridor, Blake surveyed the scene with a cold
eye. He had to admit, Hansen had taken quite a few drones with him. In addition
to the bodies and pieces of bodies still there, it was obvious the surviving
drones had dragged some of their dead away with them. Stepping into the empty
armory, Blake knew that one of the bodies dragged away had been Anderson. Probably
chosen because he was one of the more intact after Hansen's suicide strike…
Checking the readouts, Blake saw that Anderson's vitals were
still green- there was still some hope. Bringing up the map, he traced possible
paths. They were loaded down, so they would take the most direct route, meaning
they would head for hull breach number five.
"Goldstien! Forget coming to the armory, we are already too
late. Instead, I want you to meet me at intersection C12, as fast as you can."
"Yes sir!" Goldstien replied immediately, despite the obvious
pain in his voice. "What is the situation, sir?"
"Hanson is dead, and they have taken Anderson." Blake growled.
Shaking his head, he began running back up the corridor. "If we really push
it, we may be able to catch them before they get to hull breech five. Otherwise,
Anderson is going to find out about these things the hard way…"