Chapter Seven

“Nel, see if you can make it to the Ferrin! Sorn, get over here you sniveling bastard! Why you are on this Mission is beyond me when you obviously are a goddamn hindrance and a liability!” While Helena was cursing out Sorn over the eruption of the ion plasma from her blaster, you chance a glance around the corner of the burnt metal edges of your cover. The edges of the container are bright red as the metal around the plasma burns melt away under your worrisome gaze. The Ferrin sat silently like a beckoning ghost, luring with a promise, but when you get too close, the poisonous fangs emerge for a fatal bite. Looking over to the most important part; the cockpit had smoke billowing from the broken glass, smothering the hope we had of using it to retreat. Cursing your terrible fortune, you twisted your head to look over your shoulder, Helena knew the minute your Ocean blues made contact. Her swirling multitude of blues held their eternal brightness, yet you saw the small uncertainty hidden in the depths, flicker.

“It won’t work! The Sandarians dismantled the flight controls!” You report.

“Damn it! I was hoping they were too stupid to think that far ahead. Blast!” Helena’s teeth grind with her rising frustration, her cheeks peppered red as she flustered over the next course of action.

Blaster fire rained down around us. Sorn’s cover barely still stands bit by bit, it’s slowly torn away from the barrage. Helena returns fire of her own, angry grunts and whines hiss as each bolt hits home in some of the Sandarians.

The ship rocked as another explosion erupted somewhere on the ship. The emergency lights in the hangar, the only real bastion of light at this time, flicker with each progressing explosion. Each time the lights flickered it took longer for them to boot back on, and each devastating wave shaking the ship threatened the little light the group had left.

“Helena, what do we do!?” Sorn shouts which you barely caught as the deafening roar of the Sandarians attack swallowed almost all sound.

Glancing once at your fallen comrades, sending them a silent prayer, you immediately swivel looking for an escape route. Not much to see with your eyes only, so you flipped your wrist, your deft and agile fingers a blurring motion as you pulled out possible exit points. A blaster bolt hit your cover to the corner of your head, hunkering down lower you continued without missing a beat. You’ve been under pressure before, and you aren’t about to crack now.

Through the clearing in the smoke a large group of Sandarians were firing from behind their own protective covering, some using the bodies of their comrades, and others like the much larger ones, they wield rather large Vibro hammers. They don’t have a unique name or anything, but they are the ones to really be nervous about as your eye locks onto the few pushing through the front of the attacking Sandarians, shrugging off direct blast fire like you would a Gnat.

“Nel! Sorn! Get down!” Helena grabbed one of the flash tubes and tossed it over her head. Throwing her arms over you she flattened you to the ground, her body a protective barrier.

Within seconds a bright flash exploded in the room, burning bright enough to melt your eyes in your sockets if you look directly at it. The grunts and roars of the Sandarians' pain echoed off the far corners of the room.

Helena picks herself off me and pulls me up with her, “We need to get out of here, or we’ll be trapped!” Helena’s hand was firmly gripping your arm, like she was afraid to let go. You slowly pry her fingers off your arm, she whips her hand back and shakes before offering a timid smile.

“What about the Ferrin!?” You glance at the smoking cockpit of the Ferrin once more, a raging inferno sitting in the pilot seat. You shake your head at Sorn, “Like I said, that’s not happening. It’s completely useless.”

Heavy pounding footsteps panged off the metal floor as armored boots beat down with rapid succession. All three of you look towards the hallway you came from, the flickering lights teasing your senses. Another wave of Sandarians came running through the doors, these were wearing bulky armor that sprouted spikes from the shoulder pads. Bulky boots which have activators so they can walk in space with those things. The boots have the ability to stick you to any surface without fear of falling.

Without missing a beat amidst the violent barrage of plasma fire, you and Helena both lean over your cover and aim at the new brutes. Like a singular entity, you both squeeze the trigger at the same time, the lead attacker's head burst with a gush of blood splattering everywhere.

“We can’t move! They’ve got us pinned down!” Sorn still sat soiling himself in the corner.

“Goddamn it! Open fire, open fire!!” Helena yells out.

Pulling the trigger your rifle jolts with each pull as you focus on taking out the closest Sandarians. The hiss of escaping steam as it expels extra heat from the shots to help prevent from overheating, blast you in the face with each shot.

“There’s too many of them!!”

“Don’t let up, Sorn!” You only hope that your words hold more confidence than this fleeting feeling gnawing at you.

“Keep Firing!!” Helena shouts over her shoulder. Her shoulder piece was hit as is corroded and melted where it was blasted. Testament to how seriously one of those blasts can be.

Debri exploded all around you, pieces of concrete and ash clung to your hair and face. You can feel the sting of various cuts forming all across your body. Your body suit is sustaining tears in the fabric as a fresh cut is visible on your thigh, blood seeping down your leg from the cut.

“Argh!!”

“Nel! Watch out!” At Sorns warning you twirled, rifle raised, but it wasn’t fast enough and a huge Sandarian jumped the crated circle and pounced on you. His heavy weight slammed into you. It felt like a 1-2 double punch by a locomotive.

“Gah!” Hitting the ground hard you bring your knees up between you and your attacker. Shoving your knees into his chest you pushed keeping him at bay. “ Bring it you overgrown Frog!”

The Sandarian raised his vibro hammer above his head and swung. You quickly bring your rifle up horizontally, blocking the heavy strike. Your arms shook violently and you felt the tremors roll through your whole body. They sure pack a punch you mused.

The force of the strike had your knees buckle under his weight. Taking the advantage the huge brute straddled you while you bucked with all your might attempting to dislodge him.

“Why are you so goddamn heavy!!?” Your fists slam into his meaty flesh, you can feel his ribs crack but he made no signs of discomfort or slowing. It wasn’t enough as he raised his war hammer above his head. My rifle was forcefully discarded after the last strike.

“Shit...this is it...sorry, Helena. Sorry...that i’ll be leaving you alone…” Your fist kept slamming into his ribs over and over, with still no give. Looking up and over the shrouded form of the Sandarian you can see a firelight show of reds and greens fly through the air from the gun fire.

“Get off her you green slug! No one can touch her but me!” Out of nowhere Helena jumped on the Sandarians back and wedged two blades into the side of its neck. The Sandarian tried reaching for Helena but she was quick and very agile, she leapt out of the way. Helena had a frenzied look on her face as she forced the knives deeper until the Sandarian slumped over dead.