If you knew everything a human is willing to do to themselves to win the fight, you would never fight them out of terror of what they might do to you. - Former Grand Most High Sma'akamo'o, from I Have Ridden the Hasslehoff
Lieutenant Gretilk jumped through the boarding tube, landing on the deck on the Ornislarp ship corridor, his armor taking the shock. He moved out of the way as the last of his platoon jumped down. Right afterwards a Terran, who looked slender compared to the ones in power armor and the ones that had been back by the back exit hatch, jumped down and moved over next to him.
"Sergeant Simmons," the human said. "I'll be your escort," he gave a high pitched giggle. "Or maybe you're mine."
Lieutenant Gretilk frowned. The human was only wearing adaptive camouflage with hard plates over vital areas and a breathing mask that only covered his eyes, nose, and mouth, connected to a bottle hooked to the belt around his waist. On the belt were two pistols, four knives, and a pair of short handed wide blade hatchets.
"You're not armored or protected," Lieutenant Gretilk protested.
The human smiled under the mask, displaying all of those meat tearing teeth. "Naw, I'm good," the Terran said.
Lieutenant Gretilk noted that the human's eyes were starting to get a strange amber glow to them.
Lieutenant Gretilk motioned at the squad that had gathered up around him. "Our objective is the port aft engineering control," he said. "Unlike Confed vessels, the Ornislarp divide up their ship controls in sections, rather than section and local backup stations."
"What about the EW guys?" Private Nershrum asked.
Lieutenant Gretilk shook his head. "Dropship doesn't have the processing power intact to run eVIs or DS EW boarders. We took some bad hits."
"So, do this or nobody gets home," Lance Corporal Spremluk muttered.
"At ease that shit," Sergeant Cantrod snapped.
"Let's move out," Lieutenant Gretilk said, taking the lead. He looked at the map in his HUD. It wasn't too far, only about six hundred meters after, two hundred meters to port, and a hundred meters down.
Ornislarp vessels used up a lot of space for ship functions, the hallways large and wide. According to the threat warnings in his armor, the Ornislarp Noocracy had eight different species, four of them military. Two large lizards that were combat arms, a small furry engineer caste, and a large weird creature that looked like an upright spider.
The last one made Lieutenant Gretilk shudder.
The Terran caught up, walking alongside the Lieutenant.
"First boarding action?" the Terran asked.
Lieutenant Gretilk noted the Terran looked pretty young. His armor put the Terran's age at between 25 and 82, early fifth of a Terran's lifespan. Lieutenant Gretilk nodded. "Yes."
"How many simulated?" the Terran asked.
"Sixteen. No Ornislarp vessels though," Lieutenant Gretilk answered.
The Terran shrugged. "Board one vessel, you've boarded them all."
"You aren't protected," Lieutenant Gretilk reminded the human.
"Eh, I'm hard to kill," the human said. He glanced at Lieutenant Gretilk from behind his mask. "I'm escorting or being escorted, but you're not in charge of me in any way, shape, or form, got it?"
Nodding, Lieutenant Gretilk ground his teeth. He'd noted the certain arrogance that Terrans seemed to have, but wandering around on an enemy spaceship with little more than adaptive camouflage, some hard plate, and a face mask seemed to take it a little far.
The human suddenly moved, streaking into a blur as Lieutenant Gretilk's brain registered a door starting to open. The human was suddenly in motion, a strange blur that Lieutenant Gretilk's eyes tried to follow. The human's right arm seemed to blur to his waist, the axe vanished, there was two hard hacks, spraying green-not-green blood across the ceiling and the opposite wall, then the human seemed to be facing the opposite direction even while Lieutenant Gretilk's brain was processing the two chops, the human chopping again.
"HA! GOTCHA!" the human shouted as two bodies fell from each just opened doors.
The helmets were split open, brains and green-not-green blood pouring out onto the floor.
Both axes were behind his back.
"Watch it, sir, we're on their home turf," the Terran said.
Lieutenant Gretilk blinked several times to clear afterimages from his eyes.
"What?" Lieutenant Gretilk started to say.
"Saw the door systems engage, saw the EM field start to pulse through the doorway. Two on either side, light shipboard laser weapons in the low megawatt range. Good enough to damage your armor, sir," the human said, still walking forward.
Lieutenant Gretilk noted that the human had started swinging his arms back and forth, slightly away from his body, back and forth, and his stride had changed.
"Sir, fall back, let Private Fegrup take point," Sergeant Cantrod suggested.
Lieutenant Gretilk nodded.
"I'll stick with the lieutenant," the Terran said.
Lieutenant Gretilk let four of the twelve Telkan squad move past him, Sergeant Cantrod in second place. The human waited for Lieutenant Gretilk to catch up, still humming to himself as he swung his arms back and forth.
"Watch your intervals," Lieutenant Gretilk reminded them.
The forward elements of the squad went around the corner.
The ship was in vacuum, so the lasers flickered silently and the plasma hit the walls in silence.
"Ambush, huh," the Terran said.
The forward elements back up, their armor smoking. Private Fegrup's right shoulder pauldron was badly damaged, cracked down the middle from an energy transfer too high for the warsteel mark six to handle. Sergeant Cantrod's chest plate was pockmarked, the deep divots glowing red in the depths.
"There's at least a dozen of them," Sergeant Cantrod said. "We're going to have to reroute."
The Terran stepped forward. "How many?"
"Dozen. Looks like more, couldn't tell," Cantrod said.
The human stared at the passageway. "Shortest distance between two points," he said softly.
Lieutenant Gretilk brought up the map of the ship, looking for a new route.
The rest of the routes done by the microdrones didn't go far, but looked like they twisted away from the objective. Lieutenant Gretilk saw lines and text flashing by on the inside of the human's breathing mask.
The human sighed. "Welp, can't be helped," he said.
Lieutenant Gretilk ignored him, concentrating on the map. "Throw microdrones down these corridors, see if they link back up," he ordered, highlighting several corridors that weren't fully mapped.
"Roger that, sir," Sergeant Cantrod said.
The human pushed the thumb button on the cannister, inhaling deeply. Then he dug in the pocket at his right hip, bringing out a long thin tube that was decorated by a spiraling green and red line. The human took off his mask, hanging it from his waist, then lifted the tube in front of his face. He snapped it in half and powder puffed out from the ends.
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"Pixie sticks and slutty chicks," the Terran said.
Lieutenant Gretilk frowned at the fact the Terran spoke and he could hear the Terran even in vacuum.
The Terran lifted the ends to each nostril and inhaled sharply, pulling sparkling dust into his nostrils. The tubes dissolved into dust the human inhaled. The human kept his eyes closed for a moment.
"OOOOH YEAH!" the Human barked out. He looked at Lieutenant Gretilk, his eyes burning red. "I'll call out all clear."
"But..." Lieutenant Gretilk started to say.
The human suddenly vanished, leaving behind a streak. The streak ended at the corner, where the human was posing, facing around the corner. His feet were together, his knees tight and bent, his back curved weird. He had a finger in his mouth.
"Hello, silly billies," he said.
Lieutenant Gretilk noted that the icon for close range commo flashed every time the human spoke.
Before Lieutenant Gretilk could say anything the human vanished in a streak.
There were laser and plasma impacts against the wall.
Then nothing.
"Welp, he's dead," Private Fegrup said.
"Check it out," the Sergeant ordered.
The private stuck the barrel of his rifle around the corner, what the camera on the end could see appearing in Lieutenant Gretilk's vision.
The human was walking back down the hallway, swinging his arms in wide arcs. The human suddenly stopped, pirouetted, then leaned forward till his hands were on the floor. He kicked off so that his feet were in the air and started running down the hallway on his hands. Right before he reached the corner he somehow kicked off with his hands so he landed on his feet, jamming his hands in his pockets as he walked around the corner.
Behind him there was nothing but scattered Ornislarp limbs, broken power armor, and shattered equipment.
"There was only eleven," the Terran half-mumbled. "I wasted a stick for that."
Lieutenant Gretilk blinked a few times.
"Move out," Sergeant Cantrod ordered.
Lieutenant Gretilk kept eyeing the human as the squad jogged through the passageways. They were heading toward a hook in the passageway that was only fifteen meters from an eight point crossroad that also had a grav-lift up and down. The passageways off of the intersection immediately twisted and turned.
The human just reached out with one hand to run his fingers down the wall.
Lieutenant Gretilk wondered why the human was wearing fingerless gloves with beveled squares of warsteel over his knuckles.
At one point the human lagged behind a moment, standing perfectly still in the middle of the hallway. Its hands were folded in front of it and its head was bowed.
The doors on either side of the Terran opened and the Terran moved again, two streaks. Lieutenant Gretilk blinked his eyes at the afterimages. The Terran was stock-still, using a the edge of a flattened hand to somehow chop through an armored neck to sever the head. Another stock-still image Gretilk could see at the same time was the Terran half turned in place, the severed helmet in his hand. The last stock still image was the Terran frozen in the middle of throwing something, the large bulky lizard-shaped armor flying backwards, feet and tail off the ground, the helmet exploding out the back of the armor.
The human caught up. "They tried to ambush us from the rear," the human snickered. "I could hear their armor."
Gretilk glanced at the human and shook his head slightly. Sound didn't carry in a vacuum, but if the human didn't want to tell him, that was fine.
"Don't be confused, Lieutenant," the human suddenly said.
"What?" Lieutenant Gretilk asked.
"It's just the way things are," the human said with a big grin. His grin got bigger. "At least I'm not one of the Monster Class dudes."
"Uh, ok," Lieutenant Gretilk answered. "How can I hear you?"
"Mastoid and trachea implants," the human said. "High tech telepathy."
"Oh."
The squad reached the corner and started to move toward the grav-lift. It was eight levels down, but the shaft extended twenty levels down.
"Might want to tell your men to hold up, Lieutenant," the human said.
"Why?" Lieutenant Gretilk asked.
"See the bends on all the hallways but this one?" the human said, lifting one hand palm up. A hologram of the area appeared, the other hallways lighting up. "This is a killzone. Each of those hallways have the bends to allow a reinforced counter-boarding team to hide behind cover. This hallway is where the other hallways feed to. Sure, it's a primary passageway through the bulkheads, but it's also the killzone."
Lieutenant Gretilk tagged the Sergeant. "Halt the squad."
Sergeant Cantrod passed the order and the squad halted, getting close to the walls, going down on one knee for the forward ranks, standing up for the rear.
"I'll do recon," the Terran said.
Before Lieutenant Gretilk could say anything the Terran moved forward, a weird shambling walk that staggered from side to side. He reached the grav-lift and stopped. He looked down each of the hallways then stuck one foot out to tap the air in the grav-lift's circular empty area.
A forcefield crackled under the Terran's boot toe.
The Terran stretched, then looked around. "Come out, come out, wherever you are!" he called out.
Non-Ornislarp armored troops rolled out from behind the corners, weapons already held tight. They opened fire during the roll.
The Terran was already moving.
Straight into the enemy ahead. His hands were moving and Lieutenant Gretilk blinked.
The plasma shots and lasers were hitting the walls around the Terran, the Terran's hands and arms moving in a blur. None of the shots continued down the hallway to threaten the Telkan troops. The angled corridors couldn't see far enough down the corridor Lieutenant Gretilk's troops were hunkered down in to threaten, so they concentrated fire on the Terran and hit nothing.
The human suddenly streaked into the group of Noocracy troops. The troops flew up, then changed direction, usually shedding limbs, their head, or their armored torsos bent wrong. The axes were flashing, too fast for even the armor's systems to register anything more than a blur. The human disappeared around the corner.
Bloodspray showered from around the corner, coating the wall.
The human came back, swinging the axes nonchalantly until most of the way up the corridor. The Terran suddenly blurred again, going right. Lasers and plasma packets streaked into the gap, hitting the ceiling or floor.
Then they stopped.
"What... the... fuck?" someone asked.
The human streaked the other way.
Lieutenant Gretilk noted that the human left a rooster-trail of green-not-green blood behind it that sprayed the ceiling as it ran up the opposite corridor, easily clearing the gap of the grav-lift with one long step.
The fire dropped.
The Terran streaked back, his image frozen for a second right next to the grav-lift, the streak going right and toward the Telkan, down the other corridor. There was more fire, that suddenly stopped. Then fire from the opposite corridor.
The Terran streaked by again, an image of the Terran perfectly visible for a second in front of the grav-lift gap, digging in his ear with one finger and grimacing.
It was covered with green-not-green blood.
The human streaked down each hallway before finally coming back and stopping in front of the grav-lift gap. His hands were empty but his uniform was dripping with at least three different colors of blood, including that weird green-not-green.
"All clear," the Terran said. He looked around. "Got a little messy."
Lieutenant Gretilk glanced when they moved up to the lift.
Body parts and hacked open torsos littered the corners. Blood was sprayed liberally everywhere.
"Forcefield is still up," PFC Dundrelk said.
"Oh, hang on," the Terran said. He lifted up one foot almost straight up then brought it down with a sharp outcry.
The forcefield shattered and sparks exploded from the emitter.
"Cheap ass parts," the Terran shrugged when several Telkan turned to look at him.
"Man, why are we even here?" PFC Gunkrel asked over the squad channel.
"To keep them off me," the Terran replied on the same channel. The Terran grinned and tapped his ear. "I can hear some EM frequencies and your radio is in my hearing range, although it sounds like you've been sucking on helium."
The Telkan all looked at him and he smiled, his mask back on. He thumbed the switch on the bottle and inhaled. "Oh yeah, that's the stuff."
The Telkan Marines looked away from the maniac in their midst.
Private Fegrup stepped into the gap in the middle of the intersection, dropping down slowly in the grav-lift. Lieutenant Gretilk jumped into the lift after the Sergeant, floating down eight levels and waving his hand at the light so a tractor/pressor beam pushed him into the right hallway.
The human came last, making slow somersaults in midair.
"I love grav-lifts," the Terran said, sticking their feet out of the field and perfectly rolling out. They bounced up and down on the balls of their feet, their boots squeaking. "I'll pull drag."
Lieutenant Gretilk sort of felt they could have just sent the Terran to do all the work.
The last blast door was locked down and PFC Gunkrel knelt down, attaching a cable from his forearm to the door panel. He looked up. "Power's cut."
"How long to cut through?" Lieutenant Gretilk asked.
"Five, maybe ten minutes," Gunkrel said.
"Get to it," Lieutenant Gretilk ordered.
Time passed slowly, the human humming and slowly moving in circles in the middle of the wide corridor.
"Getting boooored," the human said. He tabbed the tank and inhaled when it hissed. "Ah, much better."
Lieutenant Gretilk looked the Terran over. There was blood spatter all over the uniform, the plates had a few places where they were marred or had slight pockmarks, but not many. The Terran's uniform wasn't even torn or scorched.
"Got it," Gunrkel said, stepping back. He kicked the blast door in the middle of the door shaped cut.
It just thumped and shifted slightly.
"Three layered," the Terran said. He moved up. "Do you mind?"
"Sure, whatever," Gunkrel sounded slightly miffed and Lieutenant Gretilk understood the feeling.
The Terran ran his hand slowly over the door, then over the edges.
"Power's cut to the motors. Power controls on the inside wall. Door can still be opened from the inside. Three blast doors, overlapping plates on the interior," the Terran said softly. He breathed deeply. "I can clear the doorway, but all of you need to be ready."
Lieutenant Gretilk nodded. "All right."
"Keep your eyes peeled," the Terran said.
Then jogged back the way he had came.
"What is with that dude?" Private Kelprag asked.
"He's a Terran. They're all weird," the Sergeant said.
"At ease the chit-chat," Lieutenant Gretilk ordered.
Minutes went by, the tension thickening.
The door suddenly groaned and started to open, leaving behind the plate cut out.
"Miss me?" the Terran asked. He was completely covered in gore.
Lieutenant Gretilk looked around as he followed the squad into the control room.
There were bodies everywhere. He saw more than one headless one and in one case a large armored figure's chest was caved in with a helmet clad severed head in the middle of the deep dent in the armor.
The squad looked around as Gunkrel moved to the consoles, plugging in the wire from his forearm.
The Terran grinned at the Lieutenant.
"Easy peasy lemon squeezy," the human grinned.
Lieutenant Gretilk just stared at it.
What the hell are you?