phil jones2 (16 page)

Smith was more picky with his fire now, showing a surprising amount of compassion in not wanting to hit RJ and the remaining survivor with any friendly fire.

The huge and seemingly unstoppable alien was getting awfully close to both them and the ship now. Whether Hanniman could see this happening on screen or not, Phil did not know, but the engines started to power up even louder than before which could only indicate that they were about to shoot off into space.

It also meant that time was running out for RJ to get onboard.

The comm signal in his helmet went off. 'Captain, we've calculated the creature's position with our scanners and projected the precise point we need to take off in order to escape intact.'

There was a frantic bit of conversation in the background.

'Sir, do you know of a Trigger Hawkins? He claims he can fly the ship if... if RJ doesn't make it.'

Phil really didn't want to think about that possibility right now. 'I sent him up there to join you, if he can fly the thing then... let's hope he doesn't have to.'

'Right you are, Captain. Annika out.'

He turned his attention back to the blasting that had temporarily been muted by the conversation with his Lieutenant, Smith seemed to be firing less discriminately. This was undoubtedly a bad sign, things must have taken a turn for the worse.

Things had taken a turn for the worse.

The aliens were no longer being held back by his rapid fire, they had swarmed far too close to a now unarmed and very disheveled looking RJ. His portly companion was faring much worse, a large gash had torn a rent in his shirt that exposed his flabby pectorals as he bounced up and down, sucking in air that could be his last breath.

Phil realised that from the look of consternation on Smith's face and the flagging footsteps of the man, that he probably wasn't going to make it. The glove tightened even further in response. He needed to do something.

Dashing over to Smith's side, Phil picked up the plasma rifle.

'Jones... now really isn't the time.' Smith managed between concentrated shots, his look turning to fear as his Captain completely ignored him.

Phil was eyeing the plasma rifle with intent, grasping it firmly and then hoisting it upon his shoulder and sighting through the lens. Smith was too engaged in fighting back the aliens that he couldn't stop him.

Raising the rifle in unfamiliar hands, Phil noticed some small red text flickering on a display screen on the inside of the lens.

WARNING! WEAPON PRIMED AND ENGAGED! DO NOT POINT AT LOVED ONES!

Phil briefly wondered if it was machine washable or a choking hazard before continuing to survey the jungle through this strange green scope.

As he swept the sight over the land he could feel his glove tightening and loosening its firm grip upon his trigger finger. He resisted firmly in the hopes of not discharging a fatal beam into the very people he was trying to protect, after all, it seemed to tighten as his sights drew closer to them. Did the glove really want him to shoot them?

Phil idly wondered what it would do if he aimed it at Smith's head, then stifled the thought. There were lives at stake here, he needed to concentrate!

He swept the gun over the field of battle, clearly targeting shots that would destroy aliens but leave RJ and his friend intact. The glove gave no indication that this was what it wanted from him, until he began to move closer to the struggling survivors.

He hovered just above their heads, then gave in to the tension mounting on his wrist and lowered it slightly so that the cross-hairs aimed directly at what now looked to be a fellow Captain's head.

Taking a deep breath, Phil fired.

He completely forgot about the recoil, which sent him blasting up the ramp of the ship and also sent the beam wayward.

An explosion rocked the jungle as Smith yelled something incoherent at him, then as the debris settled and the piercing light faded, Phil spotted two figures dragging their way through the chaos.

RJ hauled the visibly wounded Captain inexorably closer to the ramp of the ship, of the aliens there was no sign. Had the glove somehow managed to clear their path to the starship unopposed?

A roar dispelled that thought instantly and the huge lumbering pink alien cut its way through the smoke that the impact had shot up into the air with all the debris. It swiped at RJ as he slowly carried the Captain forward, limping himself.

Smith sent a series of laser blasts directly into the eyes of the monster, his gun blazing at a rate more than double its previous speed. Phil heard a sizzling sound and Smith dropped the discharged pistol with a yell, apparently he had overloaded it and it had burnt him for his troubles.

'Jones.' he hissed. 'Whatever you do, don't aim your rifle at that thing, it'll just devour the energy and grow in size.'

Phil felt the tightening of the glove though, as he spun the rifle up to the creature once again. The glove was countermanding Smith's pleas, did it know something about warfare that his security chief didn't?

It tightened most when he had the rifle lined up with the creature's mid-riff. There was no time to think, one more swipe or stomp and RJ and this defenceless Captain would be history.

His finger let go of any resistance and slammed itself down upon the trigger with surprising force, this time he braced his considerable weight behind the blast so that it didn't knock him off his feet with the discharge. The beam arced true and thudded into the chest of the beast, who paused mid-strike to soak up the energies his plasma rifle fed it.

Soaking up the energies... it dimly came to Phil's mind as if through many layers of foggy incoherence.

'Smith!' he bellowed in a shout that he'd mastered over many PVP encounters. 'Hit it with your rifle, now!'

Surprisingly Smith complied to the authoritative tone without argument, perhaps he already figured they were doomed and saw little reason to deny Phil's orders. Or maybe, just maybe he was coming to terms with Phil's position in command.

The second beam smashed into the beast and it staggered back slightly, as if struggling to absorb so much energy at once. RJ saw his chance and redoubled his efforts to limp toward the ramp, the Captain also seemed more lively now that certain death had stalled its arrival.

The beast swelled in size, its veined skin pulsing and throbbing from a deep red to an almost-white pink. It took several staggering steps forward but its momentum wasn't enough to carry it within reach of the now-escaping musical duo of RJ and The Captain.

Phil really needed to stop thinking like that.

He seemed to watch from a disembodied distance as the pair made the ramp and started to crawl up it, he shouted down the intercom for Hanniman to take off, the ship blasted them all back into the hallway leading to the now-closing ramp.

He engaged a final burst from his gun and the giant pink alien trembled terribly, sending a giant clenched fist the size of the ship hurtling toward them.

It then exploded in a gooey mess that they were spared from by the majority of the ramp.

He'd done it, he'd saved them once again.

'Sir. Are you alright?' RJ asked, grimacing through his own pain.

Darwin rose groggily and failed to find his feet properly, lurching horribly with the motion of the ship and tripping over Smith's expended pistol before slumping down to the floor. 'What did you pull me away for...' he said, squinting up at Phil's hazard suit in confusion. 'Cadet... I had them right where I wanted them to want me!'

The finest Captain that Star Command had to offer swiftly passed out.

Smith sighed, almost as if he regretted saving the man. 'Gentlemen, I give you Captain Darwin.'

Chapter 19

Keening! Jamming! Jam!

T
he intercom crackled over their heads as Smith tended briefly to the inanimate Captain Darwin while the man reposed on the uncomfortable-looking plate of the ship's floor.

'Captain Jones.' Annika said. 'We still have the Voravian mothership to contend with and our temporary pilot claims that they're impossible to outrun.

Smith nearly dropped Darwin's head, making Phil wonder if the deck plating would have been worse off in that collision. 'Mr. Jones, I believe we will both be required in the cockpit.'

'Bridge, number one. Call it a bridge.'

Smith furrowed his brows. 'I see no troubled waters crossing under it, Captain. One moment as I lay this buffoon down.'

To Phil’s faint relief, Smith didn’t immediately drop the Captain. He had been vaguely wondering if the man treated all his superior officers with such contempt, and what he’d do if they weren’t conscious.

The turbulence that buffeted the craft and nearly sent him off his feet indicated that they were passing through the planet's atmosphere. Soon they would come face to face with the mothership responsible for sending the Scavanger crashing into the planet's surface. How exactly were they meant to challenge such a huge vessel if they couldn't escape it?

Phil realised that as the Captain he was probably supposed to have the answer to that question. He raised his arm and looked at his glove hopefully, but it was obscured by his hazard suit. There was no familiar tightening and no suggestions being beamed into his head with which to escape this fate. It was up to him and his crew to fight their way out of this potential disaster, it seemed.

He followed Smith in a daze, wondering if there was anything he could do to prevent the inevitable assault about to be unleashed upon them.

'Smith to Hanniman, RJ and Darwin are in considerable distress near the entrance ramp, if you could get them to sick-bay and treat them that would be useful.'

'Agent Smith, I'm an Engineer, not a doctor!'

Smith paused briefly in his stride. 'Is your title not Doctor Hanniman?'

'Yes... but that's a Doctorate in applied...'

Smith cut him off. 'You are a Doctor, Doctor Hanniman. You have patients awaiting you, get to it.'

A series of incomprehensible grumbles issued from the comm system before being cut out.

'Hanniman has basic medical training, and our engines are running at more than full capacity already thanks to your... interventions. We can afford his absence.'

Phil would have argued the point but he wasn't an expert on the intricate details of hyperwarp engines. Hopefully the stasis field would hold long enough under any sort of sustained bombardment from the vast mothership.

They reached the cockpit without incident, Smith managing to keep him from bumping into anything vital that could trigger a self destruct mechanism. They were greeted by the flustered dark features of their new pilot, Trigger Hawkins.

'Captain, that vast mothership is powering up its weapons for a sustained bombardment.'

Smith quickly seated himself at tactical and was immersed in a series of rapid button-presses.

Phil still didn't feel anything from the glove, he was on his own in this critical situation.

'Steady as she goes, Ensign.'

Trigger took several deep breaths and continued his course directly toward the giant Voravian vessel.

'I have control over both engines and weapons, Captain.' Smith intoned smoothly. 'We may use them whenever you are ready.'

Now if only Phil knew exactly what it was they were meant to do.

'Threat analysis, number one.'

Smith stared at him as if he had taken leave of his senses. 'The Voravian mothership is capable of destroying us at any given moment, Captain Jones. Might I advise that we avoid flying directly toward it?'

Phil nodded. 'Evasive manoeuvres Ensign Hawkins, we'll try and outrun it back to the fleet. Smith, see if you can disable their weapons a second time.'

He looked at him as if he had sprouted three heads, clearly there was some logistical impossibility involving the combination of the flight pattern and the order. Nevertheless he swung around to his console without complaint and attempted to do just that.

'The enemy mothership is closing fast, Captain. Judging from their last attack they'll be in weapons range within one minute.' Annika informed him.

'Smith, I need you to keep us out of weapons range, divert all the power you can to the engines and let's see if we can outrun them.'

'Captain, you just informed me that you wanted their weapons disabled, I can't do that if we're trying to keep out of range.'

Phil shrugged, trying not to sound indecisive. 'Belay the weapons order then, we'll save our fire power for when it's needed. Get us as far away from that thing as you can.'

The engines increased their volume as Smith started to stretch them further, the blue and purple hyperwarp seemed to flicker over the screen without quite initialising.

'Something is blocking us from entering hyperwarp.' Smith said.

'Can we out-run them without it?'

The tactical officer shook his head. 'Not likely, we may be smaller but it means nothing in space. That ship probably has thrusters the size of our vessel.'

The rear-view screen clearly showed the giant sphere growing closer with each passing moment.

'They'll be in weapon's range within 30 seconds, Captain.' said Annika.

'Shields full to rear, prepare for evasive manoeuvres, Ensign.'

Hawkins' shaking hands fluttered over the instrumentation as he braced himself for incoming laser fire. His nervous disposition seemed contagious and didn't give Phil any great degree of confidence in the man's capabilities. He was from the flagship of the fleet though, surely he couldn't be that incompetent?

An explosion to their right was pumped through the invisible speakers, making both Phil and Trigger jump.

'Evade those blasts, Ensign!' Phil shouted at him, heart pounding at being startled like that.

The frantic man's hands flew into action, pressing keys innumerable and tugging wildly on the flight-stick that popped up, presumably to allow manual control.

Whatever the nervous young man was doing, it was working, there had been no more close calls with the lasers, even though the mother ship continued to gain on them.