“Doprel, get to the elevator shaft and open the door,” Kamak snapped. He’d put away his gun and immediately pulled out his communicator to call Doprel.

“Yeah. Kamak, is everything-”

“Fucking do it, Doprel,” Kamak snapped. He cut the call and shoved his communicator back into his belt. He needed to focus on climbing downwards, and on ignoring the sound of blood dripping down the other side of the elevator shaft.

“Kamak-”

“Don’t,” Kamak ordered. “Don’t talk.”

The cold silence in the elevator shaft lasted about ten seconds. Kamak hated it, and more importantly, realized an important proviso.

“Unless you’re warning me about something,” Kamak said. “Then you can talk.”

After all this, Kamak didn’t want to die because To Vo took one of his orders too seriously. To Vo was not quite that stupid, but she knew now was not the time to argue the point.

The elevator shaft trembled as the Timeka station shifted. The system failures caused by the invading aliens were starting to cascade and shut down essential systems, not just the main power. Kamak just hoped the gravity and life support lasted until they could make it to the ship. Or he hoped the life support went out soon enough the aliens didn’t find him before he suffocated. Oxygen deprivation was a better way to die than being torn to shreds, or whatever other myriad horrors the universe might have in store for him.

Of all the hundreds of horrifying options, being torn to shreds soon became the most likely. Spindly fingers found their way under the elevator door and began to lift. Where Kamak and company had struggled, the alien horde moved with ease, with a hundred limbs effortlessly lifting the heavy metal door. The sudden loss of tension caused Kiz’s body to drop down and fall past them, a brutal reminder of something Kamak was already trying to force himself to forget. He didn’t dwell on it, and kept climbing down.

Only two stories to go. Kamak focused on that. Just two stories to climb down. He could probably even jump the last ten feet or so. Then he’d be one step further away from imminent death. The ever-present spectre of death would always be there, of course, but there at least wouldn’t be literal monsters nipping at his heels, eager to deliver said death slowly and painfully, piece by piece.

“Kamak, they’re coming!”

“I know! Just keep climbing!”

“They aren’t climbing.”

Kamak looked up just in time to see two-hundred arms dropping towards him.

All of the two-hundred limbs latched on to him, and the surprising weight of the alien tore him off of the ladder and sent him into freefall. A few of the needling pincers dug into his skin, but most failed to find purchase as the two fell together. Kamak used what little coherent thought he had left to focus on turning, using his weight to direct the fall, and landing on top of his attacker. When they hit the ground, the alien hit first, and went squish in a horrifically unpleasant way as Kamak’s shoulder went “pop” in an equally sickening manner. At least it wasn’t his shooting arm. He kept that in mind as he laid on the floor, drew his gun, and took potshots at the rain of monsters pouring down at him.

Two of the falling aliens caught To Vo by the shoulders and dragged her down as well. She had less distance to fall, so she survived unharmed, though the aliens did as well. They continued to grab at her, and she kicked, screamed, and struggled until she managed to free herself from one of their grasps. The other latched on to her back and started clawing at every exposed surface, though it mostly managed to pull out chunks of fur, not flesh.

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

“Hold still!”

Kamak hadn’t dragged To Vo this far just to let her die now. She froze in place, letting Kamak grab the alien and hold it at the right angle to put a bullet through its circular central body without hurting To Vo. He turned his gun towards the other attacking alien while To Vo latched on to the dead body of the first one and tried to push it away from her. She held it in front of her face for a moment. Then a moment longer.

“What the-”

The shrieking metallic groan nearly made her jump out of her hoots, though she held firm to the alien’s corpse. Red illumination filled the dark elevator shaft as Doprel pried open the elevator door from the other side. Kamak bitterly noted how easy it was for him to lift the massive door.

“I’m never leaving you anywhere again,” Kamak mumbled. “Move!”

As the mysterious aliens continued to fling themselves down the elevator shaft, Doprel, Kamak, and To Vo all broke into a dead sprint for the hangar. To Vo started to lag behind, as she was, for some reason, dragging an entire alien body with her.

“To Vo, you idiot, drop it!”

“No!”

Kamak roared in frustration as loud as his hoarse voice would allow.

“Doprel, help her,” Kamak snapped. His hulking helper had been on his way to do so even before Kamak had ordered it. He nabbed the alien corpse and shouldered it, letting To Vo sprint full speed ahead. He figured there had to be something important about the dead body if To Vo was defying a direct order. Finding out what exactly was so important would have to wait until later.

Kamak cursed once again, this time cursing Timeka’s security policies. There had been an army of drones on the hangar paths on his way in here, now they were completely empty. Presumably all the drones had been diverted to more “critical” areas, leaving the guest hangars defenseless. A pointless exercise, if Kiz’s dead body at the bottom of the elevator shaft was anything to go by.

The drones were gone, but Kamak still got covering fire, courtesy of Farsus and Corey. The two stood on the Hermit’s boarding ramp and rained death on every pursuer while the other three stormed up the ramp.

“Time to go,” Kamak ordered. Tooley didn’t need to be told twice. The boarding ramp started to lift before Kamak was even all the way up it. He let himself tumble forward and fall onto the wall of the cargo bay, barely on his feet.

For the first time in what felt like a century, Kamak let his muscles relax. His pistol fell to the floor as shaking hands groped for his communicator and punched in a familiar number.

“Apall?”

The line was silent.

“Apall, are you there?”

“Kamak.”

His heart skipped a beat or two.

“Apall, where are you?”

“Executive meeting room of the production wing,” Apall said. His voice was shaking. “I’ve got a bottle of chatta with your name on it if you can get through the barricades. And the horde of monsters on the other side.”

The Hermit shuddered to life beneath Kamak. He contemplated the possibility. But only briefly.

“I- I can’t. I can’t. I’m sorry. I can’t.”

The pause on the other end of the call would haunt Kamak for the rest of his life.

“I understand,” Apall said. His connection was crackling, weak, as was his own voice. “Kiz?”

“She…”

Kamak trailed off. He knew the sentence didn’t need finishing.

“Apall, please, tell someone this wasn’t me,” Kamak pleaded. “Anyone. This wasn’t- I didn’t-”

“I know, Kamak,” Apall said. “I know. But long range comms are shot. I can’t.”

Kamak nearly threw his communicator the floor, but resisted the urge. It was the only link to Apall he had left.

“You’ll get through this,” Apall said, doing his best to sound reassuring. “You always were a survivor.”

“I’m sick of it,” Kamak mumbled. He’d outlived too many people already. “I’m so god damn sick of it.”

Apall sighed. He wasn’t exactly in the best place to be playing therapist. The scratching claws at his door made it hard to be too concerned about other people’s feelings.

“Kamak. These things. Any chance they’re interested in taking me alive?”

“If they are...you don’t want to go where they’d take you.”

“Hmm. Good luck, Kamak. I’ll see you in hell.”

“Yeah. See you there.”

The call ended. Silence reigned.

Kamak threw his datapad so hard it exploded on impact, and a thousand shards of broken plastic and circuitry scattered across the floor.