Able to Fight

I couldn't move, paralyzed by fear, even as the Queen came closer and closer to trampling me.

A strong hand gripped the back of my jacket and yanked me to the side, tearing the fabric. It almost wasn't strong enough to hold.

The Queen charged past and slammed head-first into the wall behind us. The wall dented with the impact, but the Queen kept her footing and staggered for a moment, trying to turn around while dazed.

Wolf spun me around and set me up straight on my feet. When he let go of me, I struggled to keep my balance, then took a breath.

Had to focus.

Life or death here.

Brutus smacked me on the bad shoulder, snarling, and I nearly buckled from the pain. Teeth grinding, I hunched over and tried not to collapse. The meaning was clear—I was being reprimanded. He didn't want me to drag them down. To drag Wolf down.

The Queen finally regained her composure and turned to us, her black hide tinted orange by the ship burning in the corner.

"What's the plan?" I asked, glancing at Wolf from the corner of my eyes.

In response, Wolf and Brutus took off somewhere. At first, I thought I would have to deal with the Queen alone, but she turned sharply to follow him, screeching with rage.

Something threw its weight into me and I screamed despite myself. The floor came up hard and I slammed into it, driving the air from my lungs. My head smacked hard onto the crust-covered floor and stars broke out across my vision.

I fought to focus my mind and blink the blurriness out of my eyes. A headache had already exploded in my skull, making my pulse throb against my temples.

Now was not the time to succumb to pain. I had to stand, I had to fight—

When I tried to shift my weight onto my knees, something yanked on my ankle and I sprawled out again, slamming my shoulder into the ground to keep from landing on my chest.

Before I could figure out a way to get the upper hand and turn the tables, I was being dragged across the floor. Just out of reach was my weapon, moving farther and farther away.

"No no no no no no!" I used my free leg and leveraged against the floor to fling myself forward. However, my palms slapped against the empty surface and my weapon was left behind.

Somehow I managed to push down the growing panic. I grit my teeth and turned enough to see the drone. It was dragging me over to a stack of eggs; one last ditch effort to bolster the ranks.

I flipped over and kicked at the bug's claws until I landed a blow hard enough for its spindly fingers to recoil and let me go.

Scrambling to my feet, I made a bee-line for my weapon. Though I slipped a few times on wet slime, I kept moving forward.

When it was within reach, I dove on top of it, but the drone pounced on me as well and I caught a glance of a green checker-patterned wound.

Its weight forced my body flat, but at least I had the blade. I fumbled with it, trying to grab the hilt, but the drone was scratching and screeching in my ears, shattering my concentration.

When it started to pull me away again, I grabbed any part of the weapon I could and swung backward at an awkward angle. It caught the creature in the arm and cleaved it straight off, but the blade bit into my palm and I dropped it almost immediately, hissing through clenched teeth.

As quickly as I dropped it, though, I scooped it back up by the hilt and tried to ignore the blood seeping down my wrist and the stinging pain in my palm.

Checkers—as I dubbed the bug hassling me—hissed and squealed, pulling its stubby arm against its chest. I stood, holding up my weapon, and waited for its move.

Acid blood dripped copiously from the wound I'd given it, and I wasn't keen on going anywhere near that.

While neither of us made a move, I took quick stock of what was going on around me. No more drones around, just Checkers. The rest had teamed up with the Queen to try and combat Wolf and Brutus.

Those parasites were on the ropes, the number of drones down to Checkers and two others. There wasn't much else I could glean without taking my eyes completely off my opponent.

Fangs bared, Checkers screeched and struck out at me with its tail. I had barely enough time to recoil away from the barbed tip, swinging my blade at the same time out of instinct. I jumped away when a chunk of tail skittered across the floor.

The drone wailed in pain and withdrew, giving me a chance to move in with my blade up. It lifted its slick head and wailed, flinging its tail around.

Blood arched through the air and I hit the ground, ducking under the acid and gasping. I wriggled to avoid any more splashes, but my pant leg started to hiss and smoke.

I cut the piece off with my blade and flung it as far as it would go, clenching my fist after accidentally touching part of it. My fingertips burned, but not near as bad as my shoulder had.

There was enough slime on the ground to rub my fingers in, soothing them. Meanwhile, I tried to keep my head up to keep track of my opponent.

Checkers seemed just as wary of approaching me as I was it. Its nub tail was poised over its body as if it had realized it could keep me away with the mere threat of being sprayed with acid.

With neither of us wanting to move in closer, we were at an impasse. I had to find some way to kill it, though, so I could go help Wolf—and Brutus, I supposed.

Every time I glanced in their direction, it seemed like they were evenly matched with the Queen. They had managed somehow to move out of that corner, and the Queen was caught between the two predators, trying to decide which of the two to focus on, only to have the other cut in.

My pulse was beating against my skull and chest, but the adrenaline kept me thinking at least semi-clearly.

I edged around the drone, glancing at my surroundings. There had to be something I could use, anything. The scout ship was still burning, but the edges of the room were still in darkness, leaving much to the imagination.

For a brief moment, I thought about throwing my weapon at it. Maybe I'd impale Checkers and be done. However, I didn't trust myself not to miss and once disarmed, that would be the end of it.

Not worth it.

We took to circling each other. One of us was going to have to break the cycle. Why did I have the feeling it was going to be me?

A distraction came from across the room. Wolf's roar echoed through the big room and I turned to look—he was on the floor, but at least trying to jump to his feet.

The Queen was opposite him, about ten yards out, and had Wolf's wrist blades stuck in her crest, torn straight out of his gauntlet.

He wasn't unarmed, at least, with his large spear in hand.

Brutus was on the Queen's back, keeping her from descending upon Wolf, jabbing her in the back with reckless abandon.

Screeching turned me back to my own fight. It startled me into taking a step backward; Checkers was coming at me.

I had enough time to fall on my ass before it was on top of me. I cried out and thrust my weapon upward, chipping off Checkers' shoulder spine, but it twisted and wrenched the blade from my hand.

It skidded across the ground, bouncing onto a piece of machinery.

"Shit!" I spat.

The thing scraped its claws across my face and I cried out in pain, kicking wildly. I managed to land a lucky blow and sent the thing reeling, but before I could scramble to my feet and get to the weapon, it jumped on top of me again.

Snarling, I groped around with one hand while using the other to push the drones head away from my face and came up with nothing but a handful of dried-up slime.

I pulled the fistful of crust away from the ground, then shoved it hard into the drone's mouth.

Checkers reared back, scrabbling at its mouth with its one good hand. I slipped out from under it and sprinted in the direction my weapon had flown. I knew that little stunt wasn't going to keep Checkers at bay for long—I could already hear its heavy footfalls behind me—but I prayed it would be long enough.

Prayed that I was fast enough.

I was within reach. I fell to my knees and picked it up. Just as soon as it was in my hand, I swung backward in a wild arch.

Checkers screamed and I heard the sound of tearing flesh. I was on my feet, turned to face it. The drone had a new cut on his head, and he was backing up.

No more playing chicken. I lunged toward Checkers as it swung its tail, but by now the blood had clotted and no acid splashed at me.

Putting all my weight into this one lunge, I drove the blade through the top of the drone's head, all the way up to the hilt. It slumped almost immediately and I crouched there on my knees, panting, still holding the blade.

"Fuck you, you ugly motherfucker," I hissed, allowing myself just that one moment of triumph before pulling my weapon free.

I wiped blood off my face and on my pant leg, then checked on Wolf and Brutus.

Brutus was completely missing, thrown from off her back. Wolf was facing her alone, dodging her tail and leaping out of the way of her jaws. It was like an awkward dance—one would make a move, the other would trot out of the way.

She was missing a chunk of her crown and Wolf was bleeding from a deep puncture in his shoulder. Both were on the ropes, but the Queen was bigger and still fresh from her long rest.

If I wanted to help Wolf and get off this ship anytime soon, I'd have to do my job.

I locked on to my quarry: the eggs she had just birthed before the fight began. It was time to do what I did best.

Crack open a few eggs.

It was the only thing I could think to do, at least. It wasn't going to pay me any attention when Wolf and Brutus were a bigger threat. If anything else, I would be doing the lord's work by destroying those stupid things.

So, carefully, I made my way toward the gathered eggs. Checkers had tried so hard to bring me over there, now I was doing it voluntarily.

Brutus had returned to my field of vision, sporting a heavy limp. Dutifully, though, he charged the Queen and joined the fray with Wolf—only to be smacked back across the room post haste by the queen's thrashing tail.

Nothing I could do except hope my plan worked.

At first, I wasn't sure what the most effective way of doing it was, but then I decided egg massacre didn't have to be pretty.

So, I started chopping. One egg, two . . . I checked to see if the Queen noticed. She had not, because she was too busy wailing on my allies.

/Alright then. I'll make her pay attention!/ I thought.

"Hey! Hey, bitch!" I shouted at the top of my lungs, throwing anything I could get my hands on at her. Chunks of resin, hefty peices of eggshell . . . Anything.

A hunk of metal thumped her right in the leg and turned to face me with a squeal. Her body heaved with the effort of coming to a sudden stop.

Her chest was heaving, and her lips were drawn back in a silent threat. I stared back, suddenly unsure of where I was going with this, partially frozen under her gaze.

In the end, I just sliced another egg in half. Why stop now?

She reared back and let out a terrible cry of pain and anguish that made me start violently. It was the kind of sound that filled me with dread and made my blood run cold.

I had just made a terrible enemy.

Her head swept right then left, as if taking in the rest of the eggs, and then she roared and charged me.

My breath caught in my throat and I stumbled backward. I wound up tripping over an egg and fell flat on my ass.

Every uncertainty I'd felt, every insecurity, played across my mind.

What was I doing? I wasn't a fighter. I wasn't some sort of warrior. When I played soccer I wasn't on the front lines, I was in the back between some goal posts. It was nothing short of a miracle that I had lasted this long. How was I going to fight this thing off?

She stopped at the edge of the egg nest she'd created and stepped around them, somehow still managing to bear down on me with all the power of a train.

I lifted my weapon and readied to defend myself. Maybe if I could inflict just one wound before dying, it would help Wolf out.

However, she was dragged to the ground quite suddenly, her momentum dragging her over her precious brood. I had to leap to my feet and sprint out of the way to avoid being crashed into.

Wolf was off to the side, holding a—was that a whip?

He yanked on it hard and the Queen's arm came clean off. She screeched in pain and struggled to stand up. Meanwhile, Wolf flourished the whip, then cracked it when she turned her head toward him, slicing a deep gouge in her exposed throat.

I thought for sure that would be a fatal blow, but she was on her feet.

And she was pissed.

The Queen's tail arched and she turned slightly to the side, fighting range with range. She lashed out to stab at Wolf, but he moved back and snapped the whip, making her draw the appendage back with a fresh wound. If she hadn't swept it out of the way, he probably would have been sliced it off.

For a brief moment, I wasn't sure what I was supposed to be doing. He seemed to have the upper hand now, though I wondered why he didn't just end it quick with that shoulder-mounted cannon. A closer look revealed that it was missing.

Had he lost it one of those times he was laid out? Did he abandon it when it ran out of ammo?

I swept my gaze across the large room, looking for his cannon. I had to skulk around the edges, behind the eggs and sticking close to the wall. The Queen made it hard to see as she darted around, avoiding the bite of Wolf's whip.

Momentarily, I wondered if Brutus was alright. I couldn't see him, and I hoped he wasn't dead.

Despite the absolute terror and unrelenting trembling, I still felt like there was something I should be doing to help. Part of me understood that this would have to be mostly on them, but there was surely something I could do.

Cut off her tail, or distract her again, or anything. Could he kill her with just a whip? I couldn't see his spear anywhere, so he must have lost it, as well.

My fingers gripped the blade in my hand and I glanced at it with a sharp flick of my eyes. I could give him the blade . . . he'd lost his wrist blades in the Queen's crest, so he needed a slashing weapon.

It would also be more reliable than trying to find Brutus. He might have been dead or unconscious for all I knew. Laid out and useless. All looking for him would do was waste time and make it more likely that the Queen killed Wolf.

And I cared a lot more about Wolf than I did Brutus.

All I had to do now was get the giant knife-sword to Wolf so he could chop the head off of an alien parasite. It felt good to have a plan.

I grasped on to that little bit of meaning and my grip tightened not out of fear, but resolve. I stalked around the edge of the room, watching and waiting.

Wolf continued to lash with the whip, and the Queen continued to sustain more and more wounds. Her gait faltered several times, and her head drooped.

They were close. We were so close. We just had to finish it.

Now it was her backing up and trying to dodge lashes of the whip. I edged closer and closer until I was only a few feet away from Wolf. He had closed the gap between him and the Queen enough that each crack of his whip landed somewhere on his prey. She was curled and defensive, crying more than screeching. It was now or never.

"Wolf! Catch!"

He turned his head just a little bit and I did my best to toss my blade in a way he could catch it. It soared in a little arch, and at first, I thought it was going to land way short, but Wolf rolled to intercept and caught it by the hilt.

The Queen turned her head toward me and I stepped back, but I had moved within her range. She squealed and lashed out with her tail, barely missing me with the spike by a few inches.

The thickest part of her tail caught me in the ribs and I was thrown several feet across the room, landing on the floor in a heap. My breath was stolen and though my mouth was open, I could make no sound.

I forced myself to roll over and watched, coerced myself to my hands and knees. Every shallow breath hurt and I could hardly see through my tears, but I needed to know how it went.

If I'd helped at all. If what I did mattered.

Wolf rolled back up to his feet and as the Queen turned her attention to him, he spun with all the grace of a weird muscular dancer, slashing with the knife in a whirl of movements.

At first, I thought he'd missed, but in the time it took me to blink and wheeze in some air, the Queen twisted and fell to the floor. The force of impact made her head pop right off.

Wholly disgusting, but I was too happy to care. I let myself fall limp on the floor.

She was dead.

The Echo was dead.

All that was left was any straggling drones, any juveniles waiting to grow.

My body was heavy with dried slime and blood. Fatigue seeped through my limbs and I though I bal of pain and suffering, I was relieved.

Almost done. We'd jumped the biggest hurdles.

Finally.