By the time their mysterious aggressor’s docking clamps plucked their lifeboat from the void, a series of radiation shielded memory units were already tumbling out into the stars as planned. Dima had come back to the upper deck where Sirius waited.
“I had the crew arrange a little welcome surprise for our ‘friends’ up there. It won’t do much, probably piss them off more, but knowing it’s there makes me feel a little better”, he smiled and shook Sirius’ hand, “Whatever happens next, it was nice working with you”.
“Same here”, Sirius said then tensed as the big man drew him into an unexpected bear hug, “Hey, what’s this for?”
“I figured…well, I figured this might be the last time either of us gets a handshake much less a hug for a long time”, Dima said, “Figured this might help us remember that things weren’t always all bad”, he said as he released Sirius from the embrace, “If this was overstepping, I’m sorry, I just wanted to be helpful”.
Sirius felt his face flush. Despite the initial surprise, he had enjoyed being held. He’d needed it. He had, for only a moment, felt safe in Dima’s arms. He’d felt like things would turn out okay. That it had ended so soon felt like a plaster being ripped off, baring him to the cold reality they faced, alone.
“No, no!” Sirius protested, “You did the right thing, just caught me by surprise. It’s just, not very often that this happens. I guess, on the off-chance we get a next time, maybe warn me first”, he laughed nervously, “But seriously, I appreciated it. You give great hugs”.
Dima’s expression became sadder, “I sure hope I live long enough to give a few more. I owe some people a few years’ worth”.
Sirius felt his heart drop, Dima had people waiting for him. Dima had people counting on him to come home.
“Whatever we need to do to make that happen, we’ll do it”, Sirius promised, “We’ll get you home”.
“And you too”, Dima said, “We’ll survive this. Us Program-types can survive anything together”.
Sirius started to say something else, but it was drowned out by the sound of small explosion, followed shortly by a much larger one. Then the sound of the “airlock breached” alarm.
“Stay behind me”, Dima told him, “Make sure that plasma cutter’s ready to go”.
“You got it”, Sirius said as he floated to a nearby foothold, hooked his foot in and powered up the cutter. He drew his knees to his chest; curled up like this he could get moving a lot faster when it came time. Dima did the same, stabilizing himself with one arm, his cutter in the other.
He waited to hear the clank of military-grade mag-boots on metal, or gunshots, or anything. Instead, there was a clatter on the lower deck, then a hiss as something pressurized released its contents.
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“Is that gas?” Sirius asked Dima, eyes wide.
“Lids on”, Dima replied, “Now”.
Dima dropped the cutter and floated to a locker and fitted a helmet over his own face first, locking it into his EVA suit with a quick flick on the locking tabs. As Sirius watched, he could feel his lungs burn slightly as the concentration of whatever they were putting into the air reached a noticeable threshold. Dima tossed a second one across the space to Sirius. He pulled it on and engaged the seals, struggling a little with reaching the one on the side of his missing arm. He felt the burning in his lungs begin to subside as he saw the helmet’s HUD flash green.
A dark shape floated through the ladder and Sirius kicked off a nearby flight chair and grabbed a handhold so he could turn to face it better. Or at least, he planned to. In reality, things worked out a lot differently.
Something metal slammed into him mid-flight and knocked him off course into one of the workstations. After a painful collision, Sirius grabbed the nearest handhold and righted himself, only to see a gauntleted fist flying at him. He pushed away across the small cabin space as the fist crashed into the workstation and smashed its screen. The maneuver bought himself a meter of room where he had a chance to look properly at their attacker.
They wore some sort of black-painted power armor that bore no other identifying marks. Their helmet glass was tinted black, so dark that Sirius had no way of seeing who wore the armor. The power-armored assailant recovered their stance with heavy thuds of their magnetic boots and closed the distance between them quickly.
“Hey! You!”, Dima shouted through his EVA suit’s external mic, throwing a tablet at the attacker, “Pick on someone your own size!” The tablet made a dull thud as it collided with the suit’s helmet. They turned to face him and Sirius could see Dima’s face go even paler as they stomped their way in his direction.
Sirius looked frantically around the deck for something, anything, he could use against the armored attacker. There. The plasma cutter. Floating just across the cabin.
He pushed off the wall he was holding onto and picked up the cutter as he floated into the opposite wall then re-directed his flight path. The one in the suit had pinned Dima against one of the walls, arm cocked back for a punch. Sirius flicked the cutter on just before he hit their assailant, jammed it into the nearest joint he could reach then used the attacker’s body to push off back to the relative safety of distance.
His opponent flailed, let go of Dima, then turned in Sirius’ direction. Sirius clicked the cutter on and off a few times menacingly.
“Come and get me motherfuck- oh shit”, Sirius was cut off as the attacker pushed off the floor and torpedoed in his direction. Sirius dodged and found himself crashing into an open locker. A vice-like hand grabbed him by the shirt and flung him into a wall. He stabbed the cutter into the most likely location of his attacker, finding only air. Another hand grabbed his wrist and slammed his hand into part of the locker, dislodging the cutter.
Sirius’ world flashed white as something, likely the attacker’s fist, slammed into the side of his head. He stared, eyes wide, through the new spiderweb cracks in his oxy mask at his attacker, at the black armor and the emotionless helmet. And suddenly he felt himself go heavy despite the zero G, like he hadn’t slept in weeks. His head was pounding and the light was starting to blur. The gas was getting through.
He fought the drug as long as he could, but given his overall exhaustion and the fact that his panicked heart was pumping it through his system faster than usual, it was a short fight. His vision blurred and he was sinking. Sirius went under quickly.