It didn’t matter how many times one of the Cognates took over the reins; it was still a sensation Samara had never grown used to. While Cherdor Hosk dispatched the Eleexx crew with brutal efficiency, she was a prisoner within her own body, unable to make it respond to even the most basic commands. She couldn’t even draw in a breath of her own volition, and that was damn unnerving. It didn’t matter that the Precursor controlling her anatomy was also ensuring she was well-oxygenated, it still felt like she was drowning. Every single time they took over, it was as if she had been buried alive. The fact she’d just spent the better part of two years experiencing something very similar to that for real didn’t help one bit.
So once again she rode as a mere passenger within her own body, while Cherdor Hosk went about his grisly work.
The first Eleexx was dead before realizing what had happened, the second and third were much the same. By then she was through the airlock and into the ship proper, and still, the alarm had not been raised. There hadn’t been time; less than two seconds had elapsed since the first enemy dropped. The crew didn’t yet realize there was an enemy on board, a lapse the Cognate had both planned for, and was taking full advantage of. That was how he always operated; swiftly and silently, like whispering death.
If it weren’t for their overwhelming sense of decency, Guardian and his ilk would flat-out terrify her.
Another pair of insectoid aliens appeared as she entered the main corridor, both of them dying before they realized they were no longer alone even as she flew past them, pressing onward towards the bridge. If the ship got the word out that they were under attack, that was it. All their plans would be for nothing. Even neutralizing the bridge wasn’t foolproof, it would still be possible to get a message out from elsewhere in the ship. But without orders, the other crew members would hesitate, and that was time Samara… and Cherdor Hosk… could put to good use.
The passageway branched, as Hosk automatically chose left without slowing. Another face appeared, another Eleexx died, and now they were starting to react. Samara could hear the sounds of raised voices, of frantic questions being asked, as she urged the Cognate to move faster. Around the corner, a handful of the enemy appeared before them, reacting in surprised panic. One even reached for a weapon, though he never touched it. Hosk gunned them all down in a pair of heartbeats as they breached the final hatch, as Samara stood on the bridge. Half a dozen officers turned to face her, the captain rising from his chair as he reached to trigger what she suspected was the “Repel Boarders” klaxon.
He never got the chance.
Taking down the ship’s highest-ranking officer had always been a priority, of course, and as they entered the compartment, Hosk designated him as the primary target, removing him from the equation a split second later, before moving on to the others. A whirlwind swept through the bridge as his guns reaped their souls… only for his weapons to run dry as they centered on the last survivor. Hosk tossed a pistol into the air as he yanked his knife free, hurling it at the crewman’s chest.
The Eleexx officer was jerked off his feet and thrown against the far bulkhead with force, propelled by the heavy combat blade now protruding from its thorax, pinning him there before he slowly slid down to the deck, gurgling his final breath. Hosk caught the tossed weapon and quickly reloaded before stepping over to the dying crewman. Ripping the knife free and re-sheathing it, he put a round through its head, ending its struggles.
Head for Engineering, Samara urged, even as the Cognate responded with an amused mental projection of his own.
Yes… I know, he thought wryly, his weapons at the ready as he charged back into the fray.
----------------------------------------
Remi and the others waited while the Eleexx crew searched Tyr for the Precursor relic. Knowing Samara, she’d have made it easy for them, leaving it someplace obvious for them to find. So… figure four minutes to get to engineering, one or two to secure the Repository, and another three at least to return to their ship. Call it nine minutes total… ten, if he allowed them some leeway. They wouldn’t want to tarry here, not the Troika, and their inexhaustible supply of hubris and ego wouldn’t allow them to even consider why their prize had been so easy to locate. A Terran would have been instantly suspicious, having taken to heart long ago the lesson that the universe was capricious, and anything that seemed too good to be true almost always was.
On the other hand, the Troika would simply accept it as their due, secure in the belief that the universe bent to their will, and not the other way around. You’d think the events of the past couple of years would have taught them otherwise, but that kind of arrogance took time to overcome… time he prayed the Troika no longer had.
Checking the HUD display in his helmet, and doing some quick calculations, Remi estimated they had about four minutes left until the search party’s reemergence, give or take. Tapping the helmets of the other two men, he held up four fingers, with Slavko and Isi both nodding in return. They understood and were ready, and of course, he’d expected nothing less. This wasn’t their first dance, not by a long shot.
Except that the stakes were so much higher this time.
The plan had to work. It had to. Humanity had gambled everything they had to give their race a chance, leveraging their meager position in the universe into something that actually held a prospect of success. The Alliance was holding together and standing firm against both the Yīqún and the Troika, but it was no guarantee. Against one enemy it was a crapshoot, but against two?
Defeating them both would take no less than a miracle.
Another glance at his chronometer, and then Remi raised his beam pistol, pointing it at the corridor up ahead. Any minute now. His sub-gun sat beside him, charged and ready, even as the others primed their own heavier weapons. He wanted to catch them out in the open, clear of any cover or places to hide, then shatter them in the first volley. If they do that, they had a chance. If they couldn’t…
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Remi froze as he spotted movement coming from the direction of engineering. Just as he’d suspected, the Eleexx were hurrying back to the ship, though they were at least paying careful attention to their surroundings, unfortunately. They were at least attempting to maintain a good tactical formation, but as the officer emerged clutching the Repository, it was obvious the exhilaration of locating a Precursor relic was making them act rashly. They were bunched together, hurrying back towards the airlock, eager to secure their prize.
Their excitement was about to be their undoing.
The beam weapon fired, striking the lead crewman square in the chest and flinging him backward, while Slavko and Isi hosed down the others with a steady stream of buckshot and plasma. They barely had time to react, surprised as they were, though one or two managed to draw weapons and return fire. Their shots went wide, missing the trio completely, as the Corsairs shifted their fire and took them both down within seconds. The officer turned and ran, desperate to escape, but Remi snatched up his sub gun and stitched a line of perforations up their torso, the last round shattering the back of the alien commander’s helmet. He dropped like a stone, twitched once, and lay still, the Repository landing by his side.
It was all over in less than a minute.
“Come on,” he told the other two, breaking radio silence, “Samara might need backup.” He rose to his feet and secured his weapons, heading for the airlock.
“What about that?” Slavko asked, pointing at the Repository.
Remi snorted. “It’s not going anywhere,” he sneered, as the three men headed for the Eleexx vessel.
As they entered the ship, they were greeted by an alien corpse, a single bullet hole in the center of its exo-skeletal forehead, right smack between its bulbous compound eyes. “Well, finding her shouldn’t be difficult,” Isi observed, “just follow the bodies.”
“She’s a lot of things,” Remi agreed, “but subtle isn’t one of them.” Moving deeper into the ship, they soon stumbled across other dead crewmen, each one as efficiently executed as the first. Minutes later they found themselves on the bridge, taking only a moment to ensure the Protean had cleaned house, before backing out the way they’d come and picking up the bloody trail once more. It only took the captain a moment to realize where she’d headed next, though as they made their way towards engineering it soon became clear they had forced her to make a few detours along the way, apparently in response to counterattacks from the crew. If so, they hadn’t coordinated their efforts very well, though Remi doubted it would have made a difference in the end.
With the abilities granted her by both the Protean Clan, not to mention the Precursors, she was, for all intents and purposes, unstoppable.
Gaining access to the engineering compartment proved to be a challenge. A dozen bodies or more choked the hatchway, blocking it open, forcing them to take a few minutes clearing them out of the way before they could enter. They’d fought a pitched battle in this space, defending it to the last, but in the end, they were simply outclassed. The sound of something falling to the deck whipped them around, their weapons at the ready, only for Remi to call out, “Hold your fire,” as he spotted Samara slumped against a console, her helmet off and wobbling nearby. Blood streaked her face and suit, her faceplate shattered, and as he knelt beside her, he could see she suffered from numerous injuries, any of which might be fatal.
She lifted her head and smiled at him as blood dribbled out of her mouth. “Just… give me a minute,” she gasped with a liquid-sounding wheeze. “Guardian’s on the job.”
“Samara… we need to get you back to the ship,” he said carefully, though truth be told, he wasn’t sure what they could do for her. Unlike the last time they were on a mission together, no Knights were on the passenger manifest. There was an ugly wound in particular that had his full attention, a hole the size of his fist in her ribcage near her heart. How she’d survived this long…
“Holy Mother Terra,” Slavko whispered, making signs to ward off the evil eye as he slowly backed away. Remi turned to snarl at him, only to freeze in shock when he spotted what had spooked the gunner. Even as they watched, her ribs were knitting themselves back together, the hole in her chest closing itself back up. She jerked suddenly, her eyes rolling back and showing white for a moment as she drew in a ragged breath.
“... I hate it when he has to shock my heart into beating again,” she groaned. “Hurts every fucking time.”
“How the hell are you even alive?” Remi whispered, staring at her in wonder. “Let alone move and talk without a goddamn heartbeat?”
The Protean grinned. “Upgrades,” she chuckled, taking another deep breath, and this time it sounded less… gurgly. He repressed a shudder while she attempted to stagger to her feet.
“Damn it, Samara, give yourself a chance to heal, at least,” he told her, easing her back down. If she fought him on the matter, there was little he could do about it… the evidence on that topic literally surrounded them… but he hoped she might at least listen to reason.
The Protean sighed and sat back down. “As you wish,” she agreed, before cocking her head briefly. “Guardian says he only needs a few more minutes to finish repairs, anyway.”
“Can I safely assume the ship is secure?” he asked her.
“You can,” she nodded. “Piece of cake.”
He stared pointedly at the gaping wound in her chest, though admittedly it was much smaller now. “Yes… I can see that,” he said dryly.
Samara chuckled at that. “They’re all dead, we’re still alive, and they didn’t get a signal out. What would you call it?” she asked him.
“Something else,” he fired back. “I know you’re a one-woman killing machine, but you’re not invulnerable.”
“No, just very, very, very, very hard to kill,” she grinned, before suddenly furrowing her brow. “Where’s the Repository?” she demanded.
“Where the search team dropped it,” he shrugged. “Figured it was safe for the moment.”
“I don’t like leaving it unattended,” she told him. “You mind sending someone to fetch it for me?”
“... I’ll go,” Slavko quickly volunteered, scurrying off before anyone could say anything.
“I believe I make that man nervous,” she giggled, already sounding much improved.
“You think?” he said sarcastically, earning him another laugh. “Just sit tight. I need to check in,” he told her, activating his helmet radio. “Remi to Gyrfalcon, respond,” he transmitted.
“Oh, thank God,” Xuilan said in a rush. “You had us worried, Cap’n. Is everyone all right?”
“We’re fine,” he assured her, “well, except for Samara, but she’s healing nicely,” he amended. “The ship is ours. Any transmissions get out? Anything on sensors?”
“No and no,” she answered. “I don’t know how you guys did it, but I think we’re golden.”
“All right then. Maintain watch but send Mairead over. We’ve got a lot of work to do.”
“She’s already standing by,” the pilot confirmed. “I’ll pass your message to her.”
“Outstanding,” he grinned. “Keep me posted.”
“Aye aye, Cap’n,” she acknowledged, before clearing the circuit.
He turned to Isi, who was already eyeing the work ahead of him. “I know, Cap’n… just like before,” he shrugged. “Ditch the bodies and bring over the supplies.”
“And there’s no time to waste,” he confirmed, “because our next stop?”
“Terra Nova,” Samara said with a grin.