By Dark Fox
Part 3
Part 3
| The Marx's Hand Movement,
also called MHM or just MH, started forming in large numbers sometime in
the year 3000. It was comprised of an odd mix of the power hungry, the
poor, students, political activists, angry colonists, and many who had
been taken advantage of by the colonial government. To them, the movement's
ideals, garnered from the writings of an ancient political writer,
of equality and wealth sharing seemed like a good idea. So, in 3145,
with money raised by the group's members, the leaders bought supplies and
building materials, and colonized several asteroids in the Doxy system.
This would have been the last anyone would have heard of the Marx's Hand Movement, because, despite their pledge to overturn the colonial government, the current leadership was content to have their own separate community. However, several years later, a colonial magistrate noticed what the MHM leaders had noticed before: Asteroids with enough size and resources to create self-sucifiant colonies. When the colony ships arrived, they were surprised to find their would-be homes already occupied. The MHM leaders appeared before a gathering of the Colonial Assembly to claim squatter's rights to the asteroids. While the claim was being debated, one of the ship's crew of colonists, mostly richer members, looking for cheap land to live on, went ahead and attempted to forcibly remove the MHM settlers. They were forced back, and the MHM took over the ship. The Colonial Assembly saw the seizure of the ship as an act of war, detained the MHM's leader who was arguing their case, and gave the order to send in marines. The MHM had already seized all the colonists ships, and had fled before the marines arrived. For the next 5 years, the MHM played cat and mouse with the Colonial marines and navy, hiding in abandoned outposts, asteroid fields, and sympathic colonies. The MHM eventually raided several penal colonies, securing enough fuel for an extended trip, and picking up some additional members, mostly small-time pirates and political prisoners. They began to colonize star systems far beyond normal hyperspace traffic routes. A few MHM members that had not joined the rest secured several small and medium cargo transports under the guise of starting a shipping business. They then took the ships and their cargo to the MHM secured systems. When the colonial government refused to return the MHM's leader, Albert Proctor, the hastily formed MHM ruling council decided to outfit their transports with modified drilling lasers and free him. The raid was a success, but, the ship carrying Albert Proctor suffered a hyper drive failure due to the laser outfit, and exploded. The lost of Albert Proctor let a more radical leadership take hold. While Albert Proctor was content to maintain a separate community, the new leadership took it upon themselves to "liberate" every human colony. Since then, the Marx's hand has been carrying out a guerilla war on the Colonial Government. While still using mostly modified cargo ships, the MHM has managed to obtain several regular warships, mostly escort destroyers and gunboats. The current location of the
MHM capital world is unknown.
"Alright! Shields up, bring the defense screens online, arm missiles, and bring the turrents to bear. If they're here to take us out, then by God we're going to give them all we got." Lt. Col. McCoy said, pacing the Command and Control center of the outpost. "Sir, I've sent a message to High Command. They say their working on how many forces they can send." Corpal Rodgers, the communications officer said. "You sound like you don't believe them." McCoy said to Rodgers. "I don't, sir. This is a Battlecruiser. It looks completely battle ready, but, isn't escorted. They're probably a scout ship." "What kind of fleet would send in a battlecruiser as a scout?" "A really big one. A battle cruiser would be pretty hard for our forces to take out. But the fleet that must be following it...the entire MHN couldn't take out. I mean, what chance would heavily modified freighters have against Drednoughts?" "But why hit us?" "We're one of the few Hand outposts they know about. I think the Colonials are going to try to wipe out the MH movement." "Adams, what do you think our chances of victory are, or atleast disabling that thing long enough for a rescue party to arrive?" McCoy said turning to his tactical officer. "Not good sir. Our shields and defensive grid are based around repelling small, quick raids. Unfortunately, now we're part of the raiders, and one of the big, hard hitting ships is baring on us. However, we're a lightly armed medical outpost. The Colonial government can't afford an incident by wiping us out. They'll probably take out the turrents, shields, damage life support,and then order us to surrender." Sgt. Adams said. "Sir, contact coming through the point." 2nd Lt. Lu said. A huge Leviathan-class Colonial Navy battlecruiser came through the jump point, heading straight for the outpost. "Contact confirmed. Leviathan class battlecruiser." Lu reported. "Commander, request permission to open fire." Adams said. "Permission denied, sergeant. I want them to fire first, so they can't claim they fired on us in self-defense." "Commander, the cruiser is hailing us, indentifing herself as the UCS Huntress. Serial number and markings confirm." "Rodgers, ask her what she wants." "Huntress, this is Medical Outpost 312. You are currently violating space claimed by the Marx's Hand Movement. You are asked to vacate this area as soon as you are able. If you require assistance to leave, we will offer what help we can." "Put the reply on screen, Rodgers." "Putting it on screen. Message is audio only." "Medical Outpost 312, this is the Skipper of the UCS Huntress. We are requesting permission to come aboard. We are in desperate need of medical attention. We are willing to trade you any supplies you desire." "Sir, how should i respond?" Rodgers asked. "Give them permission, then contact High Command and let them know this was a false alarm." "Understood, sir"
Dr. Wats, the head of the medical staff, stopped a group of nurses hauling one of the victims. He pulled back the sheet covering the patient. What greeted him was a horribly disfigured face. He walked to talk to the chief medic. "Hi I'm Dr. Wats, head of staff here. What happened?" Dr. Wats asked as he extended his hand. "Lt. Beecher. I'll be damned if I know. " Lt. Beecher replied as he shook Dr. Wats's hand. "Just a few days ago, these men began to complain of pains. Before we knew it, all sorts of physicological changes began to take place." "Could it be a virus? Radiation exposure?" "I doubt it. All these men have perfectly normal genetic sequencing. And blood scans haven't determined any foreign organisms." Lt. Col. McCoy strolled out across the tiny docking area. "Do you have our supplies?" McCoy asked "Yes. Several crates of various antibiotics, bandages, new surgical equipment, food, and shield generator spare parts." Lt. Beecher said, reading off his electronic clip board. It still had the old manual clip, a tribute to the ECB's non-electric ancestor. It was rather useless now, considering paper was a rarity. "They're being offloaded as we speak." "You forgot the laser rifles. Your commander promised 10 crates. "Lt. Col. McCoy said, a bit displeased. "Those will be sent from the Huntress after satisfactory treatment of the sick." "Satisfactory?! We can't guarantee we can cure these people! I don't even know if I can save them!" Dr. Wats said with a degree of indignation. "We don't expect you to if the condition is untreatable. But, we want to make sure you atleast TRIED. If they die, and we determined you did all you could, you'll get your laser rifles, plus 3 crates for the delay." "And if we don't pass your little inquiry?" Dr. Wats asked. "Then you keep the supplies we've offloaded, and we go on our way. Just relax. If you don't screw us over, we won't screw you over." Lt. Beecher assured the station's commander. "You damn marines. The sooner you're off my station, the better." Lt. Col. McCoy said, heading back to the command deck. "He's not happy with the fact you have a battlecruiser parked outside the outpost." Dr. Wats said. "We're well out of maximum weapons range, and all our guns are offline. What's to fear?" Lt. Beecher asked "That you can move within weapons range." Dr. Wats explained. "But, enough of that. Lets go to the med facilities, and you can update me more on your patients condition." "Lead the way." Lt. Beecher said. "By the way, before you leave,
you and your crew might want to stop by the lab for some check ups. You
all look a little pale."
"Yes. First it looked like a muscular disease. The index and middle fingers moved together, as did the pinkie and ring. the thumb increased in size. So, we used a muscular relaxant on the hands, and that seemed to be the end of it. Then, the bones in the hand began to fuse, leaving them with 3 fingers. The middle fingers nail began to expand backwards, almost touching the knuckles. Then the middle finger detached from the nail, which began to resemble something more claw-like." Lt. Beecher explained. "What about with the face and torso disfigurements?" Dr. Wats asked. "Well, the body seems to be forming a new skeletal structure, excreting a substance like bone, only it isn't bone." "What?" "Well, its harder then bone, and a little lighter. It looks like bone. feels like bone, but, it isn't bone. And, when exposed to de-ionized water, it dissolves. It will dissolve in all but heavy saturated water solutions." "That is interesting" "Not so much as what we found out next. Under the new skeleton, is the old skeleton, perfectly intact." "That is odd. Any other side effects?" "Well, I'd hardly call them side effects. They seem to be developing quicker reflexes, and better eyesight and hearing. They also are developing a greatly increased muscle mass." "On your orders here, it says to keep giving them blood transfusions?" "Well, their livers seem to have shut down. Most liver functions seem to have been taken over by the body itself, but not blood cell replication." "Only a quart per week?" "Well, the body seems to do what it can to preserve and repair the bloodcells, and seems to almost supercharge them with hemoglobin from dead blood cells." "How do they do repair and modify the cells?" "Well, the body produces white blood cells with the rate red bloodcells are normally produced. and these cells are very sophisticated. They can actually alter themselves to form skin or muscle cells, to aid in wound healing." "Those are some magical cells they have. What about no UV exposure?" "The skin seems very susceptible to UV light. That's why my staff and I are so pale, we've been watching over them nearly all the time, and we can't bring even low-levels of UV light near the patients, or they begin to develop nasty radiation burns. One of them actually started to combust." "Combust?! "Dr. Wats asked incredulously "Yea, this was before we'd make the UV contection, and we were using powerful UV light to decontaminate him. We threw water on him, which didn't help matters too much. "Lt. Beecher said. "Because the body is saturated with an anhydrous acid? "Dr. Wats said, reading off the treatment information. "Exactly. Fortunately, the body seems to get all the water it needs from the blood." "And you are CERTAIN this isn't contagious?" Dr. Wats asked. "Well, it isn't virus or bacteria. They're genetically the same. We're going on the idea that the glands are sending out new chemical messages." Lt. Beecher assured him. "Yes...that would allow for the dramatic changes, while not causing genetic code changes. Can I talk to them?" "Go right ahead. They're perfectly aware, and they seem fine for now. But, we're worried about the direction this is taking. Which is why we to find a cure." "And I get bonus points if I can reactive the liver, while keeping those new white blood cells around, right?" Dr. Wats asked. "You got it." Lt. Beecher replied. "I do have one question." Dr. Wats said, opening the door to the treatment area. "Why did you come to 312? Why not a Colonial facility? They're better equipped and trained then us." "Because they are colonial facilities. You guys will try to save those people. A colonial doctor would report this to the nearest magistrate, and the patients would be sliced up, dissected, and who know what else by the government, trying to create some new weapon or something. I don't want to see fellow soldiers turned into lab experiments. So, we tried to treat them on the Huntress, but, we were just combat medics, really trained to just stabilize people for transport, not to do anything intense. So, we were looking for a facility that we could use that would keep quiet, and we came up with a defected medical outpost." Lt. Beecher said, following Dr. Wats to the first patient. "Who's he?" Dr. Wats asked, looking at the patient in the first bed. "Captain Louis Carver. He's our most advanced case." Dr. Wats noticed the patch
on the uniform the man wore, and whistled.
"He's the leader." Lt. Beecher said. "He was the sole survivor of a mission gone bad." "How bad?" Dr. Wats asked, checking the sleeping figure over. "Full sub-surface detonation bad." "Holy shit. How many were lost?" "13, 10 of his fellow Angels, the dropship pilot and co-pilot, and the tech." "Well, the fact he's an Angel could explain how he picked this up. Do they spend alot of time sleeping?" Dr. Wats asked. "Well, we found it helps them conserve energy. That, and from what i gather, the changing is very painful." "Do you mind if I wake him?" Dr. Wats asked. "By all means." Lt. Beecher said. "Captain Carver." Dr. Wats said, gently shaking his patient. "Can you hear me?" "Quite well. Ugggg where am I?" Carver groaned, sitting up a little. "You're on Medical Outpost 312. We're going to try to treat your condition." "312...didn't you guys..." Carver slowly spilled out, still groggy. "Join the Marx's Hand? Yes. But, we're going to try to treat you. You friends don't want to see you cut up for the Colonial weapons program, and we don't want to face the results of what they come up with. Can you think of any place you might have contracted this....what ever it is?" "No idea, Doctor. I never caught your name." "I'm Dr. Wats. Other then the pain, any weird sensations?" "Not really. My jaw hurts a little." "It does look a little swollen" Dr. Wats said, looking at his jaw. "Lets see if we can drain it." Dr. Wats picked up his scalpel, and made an 'X' on the tip of Carver's chin, then got some simu-cotton and a metal tray. "We're going to pack that with cotton, and let it drain." Dr. Wats pulled back the flaps of skin. The legs of the 'X' started grow longer. And longer. Suddenly, Carver's jaw just flew open into 2 pieces, reveiling....a perfectly normal jaw. "Ohhhh yea." Carver sighed
in relief "That feels better. i thought it'd take some time to drain it
out."
He decided to check up on the patients on last time on his way to bed. We walked into the treatment area, and he saw Lt. Beecher, with blood down the front of his uniform....and was apparently drinking from a transfusion bag he had in his mouth, and blood was dripping from he corners of his mouth. "LT. BEECHER!" Dr. Wat's exclaimed. "What do you think you're doing?!" "Aaaaa!" Lt. Beecher screamed. "Don't sneak up on me like that." He then noticed the blood on him, and remembered he had a transfusion bag in his mouth. "Its not what it looks like! I'm used to field med transfusion bags, we normally just rip 'em open with our teeth, and they aren't pre-presurized like these, so we have to give 'em a squeeze. I squeezed this one, and blood went flying everywhere, so, it tried to stop the flow with my mouth while I hunted for the transfusion tube" He pulled up a clear plastic tube "And speak of the devil." "Lieutenant, this is a medical facility. We can't use that blood. Just flush it down the drain. Recyc could use some fresh fluids. And follow the directions on the next bag!" "I'll do that, Dr. Wats. And I'll get the mess. Good night!" "Night." Dr. Wats said, continuing
to his quarters.
Carver decided to take a shower. With water at a premium on starships, quarantine usually didn't have a shower. Carver stripped down, and opened the door to his shower. He really need one right now. He kept seeing his marine's faces. Especially McGuiness and Johnson, during the final assault. and riding the blast wave off the surface wasn't exactly smooth. The Tundra would be in the repair bays for weeks. It was more then he wanted to think about. He just wanted to get his shower. He turned the hot water up all the way, then stepped in. Carver bolted up right in bed screaming. It was dark. He was still in the medical bed, with tubes and electrodes hooked into him. He reached up and touched his face. The second jaw was there. It had been getting thicker and stronger. He could open and close it with his normal jaw, and and also swing the 2 halves in and out. The orderly on duty came rushing in, having heard Carvers scream. "It's alright. Just a bad dream. "Carver explained. "You sure you ok?" The orderly asked, sounding very concerned. "Do you need anything." She'd probably heard who he was, and figured he was having flash backs from his last mission. "I'm fine." he said. "Just a little shook up. . " "I understand. Its not every day one grows another jaw spring out, been impaled, and had facial construction undone. Well, I'll let you get your rest. If you anything, just push the call button." The orderly said as she left. Carver layed back in his
bed and closed his eyes. He remembered why he liked the doctors on these
small outpost. Despite he was part of the main faction ordered to destroy
her way of life, she still treated him just as she would an injured
Marxist Rebel. The galaxy needed more people like that. He made a
mental note to make sure not to kill her unless it was absolutely nesscessary.
"Are you sure he'll be ok?" Dr. Wats asked, looking at the surgical probe currently embedded in Carvers chest. "Sure. We've noticed that impalement stuns the infected person. When you remove it, he'll spring back to life." Lt. Beecher said. "Well, I'm glad it stopped the regenerative process. I must have tried to saw these things off 10 times, and they'd just keep growing back." "Well, atleast its something." Lt. Beecher said. "If we can't cure the disease, we'll atleast beable to make them look like their old selves." "Yea. Its not much medically, but, not looking like a circus freak will definitely help their self esteem, and maybe help them duck some Colonial inspections." Dr. Wats said as he placed artificial cheek bones under Carver's skin. "That'll do it. Too bad you guys weren't about a month earlier. A raiding party was here on its way from the colonies. They'd found an old medical ship, and salvaged an organ cloning tank. I could grown him some new cheeks." Dr. Wats continued his operation, removing the last traces of Carver's second jaw, and correcting the slight elongation of his face. "I'm afraid its not much." Dr. Wats said, finishing up. "I'm not much of a plastic surgeon." "It looks good." Lt. Beecher said, looking at Carver. "I didn't know Carver that well, but, he looks like his old self. I was wondering if you could walk me and my staff through the process on the next one so we'll know what to do if this happens again." "Well, lets bring Carver out of it, and see what he thinks." Dr. Wats said, removing the probe. Just as Lt. Beecher promised, Carver sprang right to life. the hole the probe had made healed nearly instantly. "How do you feel, Captain?" Dr. Wats asked. "Ugh. About how I look." Carver said. "Well, i think you look pretty good." Carver said. He handed Carver a mirror. The incisions on Carver's face had nearly healed completely. "I look like my self! Doc, this is amazing!" "Well, all it took was about 7 hours of reconstructive surgery." "This is top-notch work! YOu should come to the Colonies and open up shop. Hell, I'll submit before and after photos." "Well, i'm just glad it worked. I'd like to keep you around for a week or so to see if we can treat the medical condition, but, i don't want to make you late for your docking date." "Don't worry doctor. We're a long-range patrol. They won't be expecting us back for months." Carver said, scratching his jaw with increasing intensity. "Is something wrong, Captain?" Dr. Wats said, noticing Carver's itching. "My jaw itches...." Carver said. In a matter of seconds, Carver's jaw was immensely swollen. Then it burst apart into 2 sections. "Oh no." Dr. Wats said, watching his facial reconstructions slowly being forced from Carver's body. "Damn it." Lt. Beecher said,
watching Carver regress to his pre-surgury state. "Back to the drawing
board."
"Yes Beecher?" Carver whispered back. "Sir, I don't think these people have a prayer of finding a cure, if there is one." Lt Beecher said. "What are you suggesting, Lieutenant?" "Sir, this place has alot of fresh blood, and a staff of about 135. The men are getting tried of drinking the stored, 1/2 synthetic stuff. They want some fresh stuff. I say we raid the place." "Do you think we could pull it off?" Carver asked. "Sir," Lt. Beecher
said with a smile, his fangs glistening in the dim light." they'd never
see it coming. They're too trusting."
"Sergeant, what are you doing?" McCoy asked. "Sir, preparing to move on the Colonial forces on this station, sir." Sgt. Adams said, powering up his RF-204 Laser rifle. "Who gave this order?" McCoy asked. "No one sir. I was just readying the troops. If you hadn't given me confirmation, I would have just gotten my men into position." "Position to do what?" McCoy asked. "Take the enemy dropship, and fake a message saying it was returning. Then we'd plant a small bomb near the fuel tank, wait for it to get about 8 clicks out, and boom." Sgt. Adams said. "Why? The marines have kept their word so far. "McCoy pointed out. "Sir, we've have a chance of saving their personnel. Our last treatment failed, and the medics that came aboard seem restless. Something's up." "You do have a point. " McCoy said thinking. "Do you think we could pull it off?" "Sir, they'd never see it
coming. They're too trusting."
"What kind of resistance can we expect?" A marine asked, slamming the battery clip into his laser rifle. "This is medical outpost. We doubt these people have had all but the most basic military training. But, this place still has a self destruct. So, we're going to take the C&C centre as fast as we can. After that, they'll be no threat. " Lt. Beecher then turned on his ComUplink "Majors, lower the ramp. Alright marines, lock and load, and lets move out!" The marines charged down
the ramp, right into the sights of several armed Marxist rebels.
"Shit! I thought these guys didn't know we were coming!" A marine near Beecher said, popping out from behind one of the dropship's landing struts too fire a few shots. "They didn't" Beecher said, taking his few shots. "They we're probably just planning on double crossing us." "We're pinned down." another marine said. Beecher felt something on his ear. A little bit of ash was trickling down through the crack in the landing ramp. He knew he had to get his men out of here, or they'd all be burned. "And they took out our weapons, too." Beecher thought, looking at an obviously gutted landing gun. Without those weapons there was no way off the station...alive atleast. He'd have to get the doors open. "Ignus, Wetsworth, Miller,
Burkowitz." Lt. Beecher said into his radio. "When I give the signal, we're
going to bolt for that door. Everyone else, I want you to give us cover
fire. Got it?" Lt. Beecher received a round of "Affirmatives."
Beecher and his men ran at
full speed towards one of the loading lock's doors.
"Dang! I guess the 205 is more powerful!" One of the rebels remarked as his target ignited. "It isn't the 205." Another one replied "My pistols buring these guys too." "Well sergeant, so much for
your prison exchange. " a rebel remarked, waiting for his pistol to power
up its next shot. There was a sudden barrage of enemy fire, and the rebel
went flying, knocked asided by a blur.
Carver picked up the man he backhanded. He closed his entire jaw around the man's neck, his second jaw allowing him to increase the amount blood he could draw. The man went limp, and Carver swallowed the last salty, rusty drops of blood. Then with strands of blood and saliva dripping from his mouth, some connected to the man's neck still, Carver looked at the one with the broken arm. He was writhing in pain on the floor. Carver advanced, and as he opened his mouth to deliver the strike, and laser bolt struck near him. Carver turned, and saw several
of the stations personnel behind him. Carver hissed, and ran through the
other door.
"GRENADES!" A rebel called out. The barge of grenades, though thrown and shot wildly, was a threat to the area, as a hull breech could implode the entire station, so Adams ordered his men back to the entrances to the loading area, then shut and locked the doors. "CnC?" Adams said into his com. "This is CnC. What's up?" the reply came back. "This is adams. I was wondering if you could drop the pressure doors to the loading lock and kill the electromagnet for the main outer door." "Sir, that will make it impossible to breath in the loading lock without gear in about 4 hours." "That's the plan. We'll suffocate
those bastards. And i'll be nice and slow, so they won't know till its
too late."
"Yes sir?" Wetsworth asked, looking up from the console. "Any luck?" Beecher asked. "None sir. The best I got is control over the water Recyc system and the life support readouts." Beecher thought back to the previous night, when the doctor had caught him feeding. He knew the recyc systems pipes went all over the station. While too small to crawl through... "Wetsworth." Beecher whispered. "I want you to get a pipe route from the restroom nearest the blood bank to the loading lock. then pump it dry and seal it off from the rest of the system." "Yes sir." Wetsworth replied. "Miller, you stay here with
Wetsworth. The rest of you, with me. We're going to make sure this mission
isn't a total waste."
"Good job Oren." Beecher said. "I want you to find the main drain for the loading lock, and remove the armor plate around it. Then i want you get the cave operation gear from the dropship, and await further orders." "Understood." Oren said. He turned to the marines. "Ok, people, i want you,
you, and you" Oren said, picking out marines "To find the main drain, and
remove the plate covering it. I want someone to get the cave operation
eq from the dropship. Lets go!"
"Typical generalities" McCoy thought, crumbling the paper in his hand and putting it on the armrest. "Lu" McCoy said "Any changes with the Huntress?" "None to be reported, sir. I could do an active scan if you want." Lu said "No, that's fine. That means the jammers are working. Or they haven't tried radioing out." "But why?" Lu asked. "Because if there are colonial forces out here, they could pick up even a tiny radio signature in hyperspace, and all the radios the colonial ships use have an identifier subband. I think they colonial government is after these people." McCoy said. "What makes you say that? everythings checked out so far." "Look at it. Its a solo battlecruiser. That's not a expedition ship. They send those out to support small operations. And it doesn't have any fighter bays. You can see that her bays were modified to make more room for dropships. It is a troop landing ship. They're only sent out to specific targets. I think the colonials know that Carver's infected. I think they're hunting for him. Rodgers, can you send a lowpower message that the Huntress can't detect?" "I can sir." Rodgers responded. "What do you want it to say?" "Medical Outpost 312 to Colonial
Task Force: Have current position of UCS Huntress and her crew"
Beecher walked into the bloodblank.
He contacted the rest of the marines.
"Good." Oren replied. "I sent one of the smaller guys down, and he said it looks clear." "Excelent. If Wetsworth can
keep them dry, we'll be in business."
Carver sat still in his hiding spot, in some wiring behind a big pipe. The pipe was in an alcove, created, Carver guessed, when the crews had to get at it, and removed the wall panel, and never replaced it. The pipe was part of the water recycling system. The pipe wasn't making flowing water sounds anymore. That meant a crew could stop by and check it for leaks. Carver pulled at his collar. Despite his changes, carver was thankful he could still wear clothes. He's have to get uniforms with wider shoulders, but, he'd atleast not have to walk around naked. Not that there was anything really to cover up. But, 38 years of training was hard to undo. Carver sat and waited to
make his move.
"Oren." Beecher crackled over Oren's radio. "Is the pump working?" "Yes sir" Oren replied. "Ok, i want you to empty every fuel tank on the Hercules except the left main. I want to get every container that will hold liquid ready. And set them to get filled by the pump." "Got that." Oren said, as
the right main fueltank on the Hercules emptied out, and soldiers attached
the empty line. The pump continued to suck air, until it started to suck
on something solid. Then it began to sputter out a red liquid.
"Beecher, you magnificent bastard." Oren said as he watched the flow of blood become more stable "I do what I can" Beecher
replied.
"Damn." Wetsworth said, sending the link to another terminal "I hate this jumping around. I also hate radio silence. I wish Beecher would get a move on." "We gotta stay silent. Who knows what the situ up top is. " Miller said, scanning the catwalks. The reactor room had a mirad of hiding spots, but, was rather small and cramped. If they were discovered, they wouldn''t be able to hide for long. "Ok, I'm routing it to an
abandoned corridor. We'll go there for a bit, then i'll send controls back
here. It'll keep them guessing." Wetsworth and Miller walked down the corridor.
Wetsworth thought he heard a sound, but, as he turned to Miller to ask
if he heard it, both their heads went rolling back in to the reactor room.
"F***!" Carver said, realizing he had just killed two of his soldiers. "What the hell were the doing down here?" Carver noticed one of the maintenance terminals in the hallway had sprung to life. It showed the lay out of the station's water pipes. Most of the pipes were filled blue, which meant they were filled and working. Several orange pipes showed pipes that were leaking slightly, but, still usable. Carver noticed there was a lot of pipes that were blacked out. Even for a Marxist outpost, there were too many. Carver found his position, and noticed the pipe he had been hiding behind was blacked out, despite the fact it seemed in perfect condition, and he could hear liquid flowing through it. Carver then typed in a few commands, and brought up a 3-D view of the station's plumbing. He noticed there was a system of pipes blacked out, all interconnected. Carver traced the ends of the pipe to 2 rooms. He brought the information about them. The blood bank and the loading lock. Carver smiled. Beecher wasn't disappointing him. Carver picked up an empty
electrical conduit covering, left behind by a rushed repair crew, and walked
toward the pipe.
The bloodbank was almost
gone, and they'd only been at it about 2 hours. It would take the pump
several more to fully pump it into the tanks and other containers. Then
they'd still need to find a way to open the doors to space so they could
get out. There was a small problem with the station's laser turrents. Most
Marxist outposts had their defenses set on repelling massive Colonial assaults,
and their dropship would have no problem evading them. However, this station
used to be a colonial holding, and their turrents were designed to target
fast moving, lightly armored craft. The dropship matched this description
perfectly. If he could get the Huntress to lay down surpressing fire, they
might have an easier time of it. The trick was getting a hold of the Huntress.
"Any luck?" Oren asked "No sir. They really knew their stuff. The lasers were stripped clean. I guess that's what we can expect from these guys. Expert salvagers." "What about rockets? Any chance we could get them working?" Oren asked "No sir. The Marxists just took off the warhead cover, placed it in the missile slot, and made off with the rest." "Corporal" Col. Majors yelled from inside the dropship "We've got problems." Oren ran up the ramp to where Col. Majors was in the dropships cockpit. "What is it?" Oren asked. "I've been monitoring a steady drop in the airpresure of this room." Majors said "We think the rebels have cut power the electromagnetic seal on the air doors, or it was cut by our explosions. Right now its working for us by helping speed our pumping of the blood. But, when the blood gets low and starts sucking air from other parts of the station, the pipes will clamp off. We still need air to live." "Majors." Oren said "Where's
the dropship jack? I think i have an idea of how to get us out of here."
"None sir." Rodgers answered. "If there is a colonial task force out there, they aren't responding. Or they all jumped to normal space." "Not likely. The Colonials never bring their full force out." "Sir!" Lu said "I'm getting a reading from the inner loading lock door. Its open" "Can we shut it?" McCoy asked, concerned. "No sir, the wires have been cut." "What is the atmosphere pressure in there?" McCoy asked ".63 atmospheres and dropping." Lu reported. "How's the outter door?" McCoy asked "Its holding, but we don't have power to it. Structural intertry sensors are reporting increased strain on the airlock." "They've moved the ship in the airlock." McCoy said. "Adams, power up the gun turrents...slowly. I don't want them to get away. It'll be easier to say they tried to get away with out paying then explain why we killed the patients and were waiting for them with weapons." "Sir." Adams said. "About the patients. It seems one got away. my men are looking for it right now." "which one?" McCoy asked "Captain Carver" Adams said. "Damn. I hate to have him
running around my station. He seems like a clever bastard."
"That was one tough son of a bitch." Carver said, beginning to catch his breath. "Almost a shame its finished." Carver felt some of the blood run into his mouth. It was a good taste. It was a pity it would go to waste. Carver opened his eyes. He
was exactly as he had been several weeks ago, only less human, and less
out of breath. He was drenched in blood from the pipe's walls, and some
of it still trickled onto the floor. The blood was cold from its storage.
Carver climbed into the hole in the pipe he made. Blood flowed through
it from above. He slid down the slick pipe into a sea of blood.
"Beecher knows he's going to have a hard time getting back here. Better to pull him out in the commotion of a full-scale boarding." Oren said. "Corpal!" A marine private yelled "Something's up with the pump!" Oren walked down the dropship ramp. The pump was audibly straining. And the hose going into the drain was taunt. "What is it, private?" Oren asked "Sir, I don't know sir. The pump began making weird noises, and the hose went taunt." The private answered. Oren walked over the drain. He knelt beside it, and looked in. He narrowly missed being swiped in the face with a large sickle-like claw as a 3-fingered hand emerged and grasped onto the side of the drain pipe's opening. "Holy..." Oren said, jumping back. He then looked down, and saw a figure climbing the pump hose. The figure was horribly disfigured, covered in blood, and barely human, but, Oren recognized it as Carver. "Captain Carver?" Oren asked, incredulously "Yes." Carver said. "Now, if we're through with introductions, help me out of here." "You heard the captain!"
Oren yelled at a group of marines. They ran to help Carver out of the pipe.
"This is Beecher. We've finished with the last of the blood." Beecher replied. "That's good. We've got Carver. Just go and hide out until the boarding parties arrive." "Carver? Damn, first good news I've heard today. Take good care of him. Tell him I'm looking forward to hearing about his escape." "I'll do that. You stay frosty. Hercules out." "Ok, Ignus, you found a place to hide?" "Yes, Burkowitz found a nice broom closest. There are glass doors, so we'll be able to tell when anyone comes in if they are friend or foe." "Good work Burkowitz." Beecher said, walking in. The 3 marines hide behind the mops and boxes of supplies stored inside. "Lets see if there's an intercom in here..." Beecher said, scanning the walls. It was hard to make out buttons on the walls in the dark. He found one beneath a speaker. "We're in luck. Ingus, see if you can work it." Ingus creeped out, and turned on the intercom. There was nothing but silence with a slight hiss. "Sir, it seems to be just receiving from the unit on the other side of the wall...there's another button here...I think it'll patch us into the main com net." Ignus pushed the button. There was sight hiss as the door sealed airtight. A crackly computerized voice came on over the intercom. "Warning, prepare for decontamination procedure. UV microorganism cleanse will commence." The lights came on, and Beecher saw they were in a decontaminating room, that had been used to store cleaning supplies. "Damn those lazy rebels."
Beecher said as the UV lights came on and reduced him and his men to ash.
"I hate to say it." Majors said "But this more of Green's line of work." "Yea. Too bad Lotatan ripped his heart out. He couldn't be revived. I have full confidence in you, Majors...punch it!" Majors opened up the dropships
throttle and screamed full speed towards the Huntress.
"Adams, get ready." McCoy said. "They're going to be blasting out of the lock like a bat out of hell." "I'm hot and ready to kill." Adams said looking at the holographic read out. It had the the status of the 2 turrents and a central cross hair that was right above the loading lock. The dropship bolted from the lock. Adams lined up his shot, and opened fire. The dropship's weaving and jinking was no good against Adams' dead aim. The shields began to get weaker. With a sudden shimmer, and a shower of sparks, from the dropship, the shields went down. Adams' lined up the killed shot, and pulled the trigger nothing happened. He looked at the turrent status. Both of them had flashing "Malfunction" signs over them. "F*** IT!" Adams yelled. "Sir, the turrents are malfunctioning." "Briggs." McCoy said to his station coordinator "Get a repair team to the turrents, ASAP. If its minor, me might be able to fix it in time for a final shot." Suddenly, the laser turrents began to fire. "Sir!" Adams said "The turrents are back!" Adams noticed they were firing on a delay of his previous commands. Something much have sapped the CPU. Adams compensated for the aiming lag, and fired his shot, barely getting it off before the ship entered the Huntress's shield. It hit the drop ship right in the starboard engine. The ship began to spin on its horizontal axis, and kept its course right for the the landing bay. An explosion from the bay let the bridge crew know the dropship had landed, badly. "Adams, what happened?" McCoy asked. "Well, the CPU starting lagging
bad. We don't have the computing power we used to." Adams answered. "And
the only thing on the same CPU as the turrents is a few of the contamination
rooms. Storage 3, Greenhouse 2, Bloodbank. Some idiot was probably using
them to heat up a burrito."
"Majors, you ok?" Carver asked, shaking the arm that was resting on the throttle. "Yea." Majors replied. "I'm squished pretty good over here. Press into about a 2 inch gap. My ribs are gone, completely crushed. If I wasn't dead right now, I would be dead." "You're not are on fire or anything?" Carver asked "Nope. We're clear. Sucks to be the guys in the back." Majors said, looking out a back view mirror at the flaming wreckage of the Hercules with his uncrushed eye. "Yea. Looks like I lucked out again." Carver said, taking 2 cigarettes from the pouch, watching as the flight crew were extinguishing marines they were dragging from the interior. "Yea. You suck Carver." Majors said. "2 missions we've been double crossed, and two missions you've made it back alive, unscratched." "Well" Carver said, lighting the cigarettes. "Technically, i didn't make it back from either mission "alive". Here" Carver said, putting a cigarette in Major's mouth. "You know Carver, these things will kill you." "Your a real character, Majors. Oh look! Oren made it out. Good. He's a good man." Carver said, watching the action. "When do you think they'll whip out the jaws of life and dig us out?" Majors asked. "What's the rush?" Carver asked, putting his feet up on the dashboard. "I'm comfortable right here." "Oh real funny." Majors said "I'm going to kick your ass when this heals tonight." "I'll be waiting." Carver
said, watching as the salvage vehicle and crew moved towards him.
"The Huntress seems to have contained the fires in the landing bay. But it looks like it won't be back to 100% for a week or two. Huntress is making no movements, detecting no weapon power ups." Lu responded. "Drop the main screen, go to condition red. Until the Huntress leaves, we aren't anywhere near out of the woods." McCoy said. "Charge the shields and get them ready to raised." "Sir, Huntress is moving on the jump point." Lu said. McCoy saw the 3-dimensional scan of the outside, showing the the Huntress moving towards the station's jump point. Suddenly it stopped. "Adams, shields!" McCoy yelled, seconds before the Huntress's rear batteries opened fire. The shields absorbed the blasts, but, the Huntress was turning. "Sir, shields are at 64% and holding. "Adams reported "Huntress powering up main guns! "Lu said. 2 laser beams streaked from the Huntress and hit the station's turrents, reducing them to slag. "Sir! Turrents are gone. "Adams said "Permission to launch missile strike." "Permission..." McCoy began,
but the Huntress fired her main guns, sending balls of white-hot plasma
through the station's shields and raking across the missile racks, shaking
the entire station.
"Sir, heading for jump point." The Navigation officer said. "All stop." "All stop Aye." the officer said, as the huntress eased to a halt. "Weapons, bring our rear batteries to bear on the outpost, and fire at will." Carver said, grabbing a Cigar from the arm of the captains chair and sitting down. "Communication, I want a view of the station on main screen." "Aye sir." the respective officers replied. The translucent LCD screen came down from the ceiling of the bridge, and showed the station as the shots from the rear batteries hit the stations shields. "Hmm. They weren't as trusting as I thought." Carver said. "Navigation, bring us around, Weapons, charge our main guns and power up the lasers. Take out their turrents with out lasers, and then take out their missile racks with our main guns. And communications, make the main screen a little more opaque." "Aye sir." The weapons officer said, relaying the orders to the firing control center. Carver watched as the his ship's weapons ripped into the station. "Sir, firing orders?" the weapons officer asked. "Charge all forward weapons to full. Navigation, bring us on a dead-on position with the station's bridge. I want them to see this coming. And have an extraction team ready to go get Beecher." The Huntress slowly maneuvered
in for the final kill.
"Detecting weapons charge. Shit, I've never seen anything like it. Every forward facing weapon they have is armed and pointing at us." "Why aren't they firing?" Sgt. Adams asked. "They're going to send this one right down our throats." Lt. Col. McCoy said, watching the sensor screen. "They're lining this shot up so it'll hit us dead center, right here. The outpost will implode." "Sir, Hyperspace sensor has detected 2 contacts moving towards the point, Achillies class light cruisers, markings identify them as colonial navy." Lu said, as blips appeared on one of his screens. A hyperspace portal formed, and the first light cruiser came through. It instantly turned its main particle cannon turret on the Huntress and opened fire. The Huntress was caught off guard. The shots blasted through the underpowered rear shields and tore a hole in the Huntress's right main engine. The Huntress wheeled, and opened fire. The second cruiser came through the portal, and also began to open fire on the Huntress. "Sir." Lt. Lu said "The navy vessels are engaging the Huntress." "Hot damn!" McCoy said. "I never thought I'd be glad to see Colonial Navy. Adams, do we have anything to support the Navy with?" "Missiles 2&10 are undamaged, hot and ready to go." Sgt. Adams reported "Arm them, and launch on my mark....Mark!" McCoy said. He watched on the translucent LCD as the 2 missles streaked towards their target and impacted on the Huntress's shields. "Sir, we are detecting several dreadnaught battle groups enroute to here." Lt. Lu said "The Huntress sees them too, and is making a breaking for the jump point." The Huntress moved at top speed towards the jump point, taking heavy fire from the 2 light cruises, who were scoring several hits to the Huntress's hull and weapon's pylons. The Huntress had several large holes in her hull and had lost all power to her left engine by the time it made it to the jump point. "Rodgers." McCoy said. "broadcast our surrender to the cruisers." "Broadcasting. The Colonial Navy vessels are responding, they are accepting our surrender. The Acqura is sending shuttles over to evacuate our personnel." Rodger said. "Ok. Rodgers, tell everyone
to pack up and prepare to move out." McCoy said, slumping back into the
command chair. He looked at the fortune resting on the arm of the chair
"Today was a day of great changes." McCoy thought, as he saw the line of
Navy shuttles approach.
"Ok, Captain." One of the ships captains said, his uniform indentifing him as a high-ranking Marxist Hand Navy admiral. "I'm here. Now, you'd better have a good reason for this meeting, cause if not, I suggest you start preparing to be boarded." "I have a very good reason. I can help you bring down the Colonial government." A voice said over the ships speakers. The captain of the ship had refused to use video. "You'd better be telling the truth, Captain." The admiral said. "I am. And please, call me
Carver."
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