The ship rang like a bell as the first missile hammered into the portside engine. Collision alarms blared as officers and crew scrambled to their posts.
“Nav! Plot a course for the transit station and get us out of here!” Captain Haines shouted as he scrambled to his feet. “All stations report in!”
“Obs reporting! Multiple objects on collision course!”
“Nav here! Plotting evasive action now sir!”
“This is Med bay. Securing patients and readying response teams.”
“Engineering here. We can move but the port engine can’t take another hit like that!” Another crash reverberated around the ship and she continued. “Shit! Sir we’ve just lost the portside engine. We’ll try to compensate with the starboard but...” a rapid triple impact rocked the hull and the line dissolved into static.
“Jenn? Jenn!? Respond!” the captain turned to the comms tech cowering at her station “get her back on the line!” he bellowed.
She shook her head
“I can’t sir. Engineering…. it’s gone.” As if to punctuate this another series of impacts pounded the ship from bow to stern.
“Sir!” called out the helmsman, “that last one took out our engines. We’re dead in space.”
The captain hissed a curse and slapped his hand on the intercom switch
“All hands, this is your captain. Initiate emergency protocol one. I repeat, initiate emergency protocol one. All crew to lifeboats” he paused for a second, his finger still on the intercom switch.
“Abandon ship.”
Two decks below Quartermaster James shouldered his way through a knot of rushing crew and ordered them to check the rest of the deck for wounded. A sudden impact made the walls rattle and caused the lights to briefly flicker. He staggered and collided with a door frame. As he levered himself to his feet he heard a voice calling out from behind the door. Opening it he saw someone struggling to get out from under a cargo trolley. Rushing forwards he lifted one end of it just long enough for the young woman underneath to wriggle free. She began to thank her rescuer but as it dawned on her just who that was she began to stammer.
“Sir” she squeaked “it wasn’t me this time, I was stacking ration packs and there was bang and it went dark and it fell and-” her panicked babble was cut short as James grabbed her arm and hauled her to her feet.
“No time for that Sands,” he snapped, “we’re abandoning the ship. Get to your lifeboat now!” The pair ran from the room as another barrage smote the Donatello, nearly knocking them back to the floor. They reached a junction and the quartermaster checked his tablet. “Head that way” he said, pointing to the left hand path. “That’s the nearest lifeboat, get there, strap in and wait for me and any other crew. Prep a medikit in case we need it. I’ll finish checking this deck and join you. Now go”. She didn’t move, the reality of what was happening froze her to the spot. “GO!” he roared, finger stabbing towards the left path.
She ran.
Quartermaster Liam T. James pounded down the corridor, stopping at each door to check for stragglers. He rounded a corner and headed into the medical station. He found three crewmen tending to the crumpled form of Dr Hudd. The man was out cold, a particularly vicious strike having sent him headfirst into his desk. One of the men, a slightly built fellow with a panicked expression and a junior officer badge looked up as James entered.
“Sir! What’s happening? What do we do?”
“Evac,” James barked. “You,” he pointed at the junior officer staring up at him, “get to LB-17, it’s the closest. Get there and prep for launch, we’ll treat Dr Hudd once we get on board. You two, help me carry him”. The young officer ran out of the room as James stooped to help the other two carry Dr Hudd.
Ensign Mira Sands fled down the steel and plastic tunnel as fast as her legs could carry her. Every ten seconds another boom would rumble through the floor and walls, causing the lights to flicker, the floor to shake and for one brief terrifying moment the artificial gravity to shut off. She floated along the corridor, arms flailing for purchase. Its return sent her sprawling to the floor before a hatch marked LB-17. Safety. She hauled open the heavy steel door and scrambled inside, leaving it open for anyone who followed her. It was empty. A 5 metre long hexagonal tube with an airlock at one end and a console at the other, 10 seats filled the centre in a back-to-back row with crash harnesses and basic survival gear in overhead lockers.
The medikit was easy enough to prepare, a panel folded down from one wall, big enough to hold a prone body. The scanner booted up and patiently waited for further instructions. She’d just finished checking its store of various sundry supplies had been refilled and began to clip herself into the seat closest to the door, when the pounding of boots on metal caused her to start. A single crewman staggered into the lifeboat, eyes wild and chest heaving. He turned and began to heave the airlock door closed. Mira jumped out of her seat and tried to push it back.
“No! We’ve got to wait for the others!” she almost screamed as she looped an arm through his and tried to pull him away from the door. He didn’t reply, if anything the resistance only caused him to panic even more. His free hand flailed at Mira as the two wrestled for control of the airlock door. Suddenly he let go of the airlock and wrapped both hands around her throat, pinning her into one of the chairs. His lips curled into a snarl and a low keening sound escaped his throat. There was nothing behind his eyes except fear and an animalistic panic. Her hands flailed and slapped at his face to no effect.
A shout from the out in the corridor made them both turn. Quartermaster James was charging towards them followed by two crewmen. They carried a limp form between them, blood trickling onto the bare floor. Before they could get any closer the man pinning Mira released his grip on her throat and bashed her head against one of the metal restraints. Dazed, she could only watch as he wrenched the airlock closed. Seconds later the three men outside reached it and began to hammer on the now sealed airlock door. Before she could stop him he slapped his hand on the large red button beside the door.
A series of rapid thumps rattled the lifeboat as explosive bolts fired, launching it away from the ship. Mira had just enough time to pull the harness into place before the engine kicked in and crushed her into the seat. After 30 seconds the engine cut out, having flung the lifeboat a considerable distance from the Donatello. A static crackle caused her to look to the other end of the lifeboat. The other occupant was tapping away at the console, his back to her.
“You killed them.” she said softly, he didn’t look up. “You locked them out and killed them” she said again, louder this time. Still no response. “You killed them!” she screamed, tears rolling down her cheeks. With a scream of rage, she thrashed against the restraints but to no avail.
“It won’t work,” Whispered a quiet voice from the other side of the boat. “Some of the seats are jammed. It won’t unlock until we land. It’s a flaw in the programming”. He turned to face her, his own tears mingling with the blood of his burst lip to trickle down his chin and neck. “I-I don’t know what happened, I panicked?” He looked at the scrapes on his hands and then to her face. “I hit you.” A statement. He looked at the door. “I shut them out, I saw them coming and shut them out.” His eyes locked on to hers. “I killed them,” he whispered. A look of horror grew on his face. “What did I do!?” For the next twenty minutes the sound of weeping was the only thing heard.
The radio gave off another static crackle.
“Is anyone there?” said the panicked voice from the speakers.
“this is LB-25! We’re under fire! Requesting immediate assistance, we nee-” The message cut off abruptly. A flurry of messages began to pour in, each worryingly similar.
“This is LB-27 under fire…!”
“…eight souls aboard...”
“…-14 requesting assistance”.
“… There’s something out here with us! This is LB-19! I repeat we are being boarded!”
That last message made the crewman look up from his stupor and dash towards the small round window at the rear of the lifeboat. Mira, still locked into her restraints lashed out at him as he passed. If she connected he showed no sign of it. As he stared out into the dark he saw a strange craft approaching at speed. Nozzles mounted on the front spurted gases out into the void as it slowed. It was small, roughly the same size as the lifeboat but shaped like a teardrop and the iridescent green of a beetle’s shell. Four jointed arms unfurled from the front end, the longer two ended in a set of four fingered claws whilst the other two terminated in a wicked set of cutting tools. These began to whir to life as the claws reached out towards the lifeboat.
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The crewman recoiled from the porthole and stumbled towards the other end of the compartment.
“What’s happening?” Mira asked from her seat, still struggling with the restraints.
The crewman didn’t reply, he started hammering frantically at the controls, nothing happened. Dashing back to the porthole he pressed his face against the glass and watched as the unknown craft grew ever closer.
100 metres. He could see the arms extending and contracting, like an athlete warming up before the big event.
75 metres. The tool carousels on the smaller arms rotated in turn. He could almost hear the whirring and clicking as they slotted into place one after another.
“What’s happening? What’s out there?!” Mira asked, shouting this time.
50 metres. The babble of voices from the radio began to dwindle as one after another they cut out. The last to go was LB-19. Their words were drowned out by the shriek of metal on metal. And the shrieks of those inside.
25 metres. The grappling arms stretched to their full extension in an obscene parody of an embrace.
20 metres. With a sudden burst of light, the rear of the craft exploded, sending it tumbling end over end towards the lifeboat. It slammed into the side, bounced off and drifted away into the void. The impact caused the lifeboat to tumble and twist, rattling like occupants like beads in a maraca. Mira stopped wrestling with her restraints and clung to them as it rolled. The crewman was less lucky as he was hurled into the ceiling, the floor and two of the walls before finally crashing into the console. Gripping it tight he slapped his hand on a blinking light. Ports mounted on the outer hull immediately began shooting out pulses of gas, slowing the tumble and reducing the spin. In the space of a minute, the lifeboat had stabilised and the jets ceased.
“What happened?” asked a very pale Mira. The urge to panic rose up inside her alongside her breakfast. She suppressed both as best she could.
“There was another ship outside. It tried to grab us but it exploded before it could. I think whatever was shooting at the Donatello hit it,” said the crewman as he leaned on the console and tried to stop his head spinning.
“Is there anyone still out there?” she asked. He shook his head
“If they are, they're keeping quiet, I don’t know how many got away but they were being shot at too.”
Any reply Mira was about to make was drowned out as she finally gave in and threw up noisily across the compartment.
Three hours later a vomit splattered Mira looked up from her seat and glanced over to the other occupant. He sat in a chair next to the console, fiddling with a small silver cylinder.
“What’s that?” she asked, pointing at the small device.
He held it up so she could see it clearly. It was small, about 15cm long and 5 cm thick. Three small round buttons lined its length and a thin line circled it about a third of the way along.
“it’s a transmission key. It’s how we got here.” He slipped the device into a pocket on his thigh. “When we launched the captain used one of these to send the password and coordinates to the transit station. No coordinates, no travel. No password, no catch field. Without that we’d just shoot off into space at 200C. We’ll use it for the trip back too,” he paused, “we were supposed to use it I mean.”
“Why do you have it then?” She asked.
“All senior officers were issued one in case of emergency, when I evacuated I picked up Dr Hudd’s on the way out,” he said, shrugging.
“On the way out?” she said, her expression hardening. “You left them to die! Quartermaster James was at the airlock and you left them to die!” she spat.
“I know!” he shouted back, advancing towards her. “You think I don’t know that? It’s all I can hear. The pounding on the door....” His voice drifted to a whisper and slumped into a seat opposite her.
More hours passed in uncomfortable silence until Mira spoke again.
“So what do we do now?” she asked. “Do you have a plan? What do I call you anyway?”
“Jaz” he said “Sub-lieutenant Jaz White, Engineering. It’s how I knew about the bug in the harnesses, my team were supposed to be working on the problem tomorrow. As for a plan... we’ll be making planetfall in about 6 hours, provided we don’t get slapped out of the sky or grabbed or something new and awful,” he shrugged, “in all honesty I’m surprised we made it this far. Once we land we can take it from there. This pod’s got enough stuff to keep 10 people alive for 72 hours. With just the two of us that’ll last a lot longer. Any other pods should come down in a similar area so we can link up with any survivors.” He nodded, quite pleased with his chain of thought until another struck him. “You’ll tell them what I did, won’t you?” he said softly, rising to his feet as he spoke.
Mira felt a chill run down her spine at this. “You know I will,” she said, reaching up to touch bruises around her neck “you left him...” She trailed off as her voice wavered and tears began to sting her eyes. She blinked them back. “You left them to die! I’m not going to keep that a secret”.
He advanced towards her, a blank expression on his face. She tensed and fought the urge to panic. Before she could warn him off he slumped into the chair next to her, head in his hands. After a long moment he looked up and met her gaze.
“You’re right,” he said, “what I did was… beyond awful, the only reason I’m not curled up in a ball and crying is because every time I do something worse seems to happen.” He chuckled at the weak joke, stopping abruptly in the face of her stare. “If you have to tell them then I’m not going to stop you,” he looked down at his hands again, “it’s no more than I deserve” he said in a small, sad voice.
Before Mira could reply a rapid series of tones chirped out of the console. Jaz stood and wandered over to it. “We'll be starting planet fall in the next few minutes,” he said excitedly, “computer estimate has us landing on the African side of the Mediterranean.” He checked another screen and the enthusiasm drained from his voice, “I’m not picking up anymore lifeboat signals, I think we’re alone out here”. He slid into the seat next to the console and began to lock the restraint harness into place.
“Why did they stop shooting?” asked Mira, checking her seat and harness. “Why did they even start?”
Jaz shrugged and finished settling into his seat. “I don’t know, maybe we’re too small a target or we’re in between them and the planet. I don’t know. I was in the mess when the alert sounded.” He seemed almost surprised at how calm he sounded. “We can worry about it after we land, there’s nothing we can do from here anyway.”
Several hours later, a slight rumble ran through the little ship as the engines fired. Soon the bow began to glow red, then orange and finally white with the heat of re-entry. It screamed through the atmosphere at incredible speed, using the air itself to slow down. Eventually it had decelerated enough to begin the next phase. With a sudden jolt the parachutes deployed, leaving the lifeboat drifting 8,000 metres above the ground. Inside Mira relaxed her white knuckle grip on the seat arms and concentrated on keeping her stomach under control. Her uniform stank and she vowed to do a better job than the last time.
“How… how long until we land?” she asked, shouting over the noise of the wind outside.
A similarly pale Jaz checked the screen. “Computer estimate is 20 minutes; we’ve still got a lot of speed to bleed off. Nothing we can do. Just sit back and relax”.
They sat in silence for a while, both contemplating what their immediate future would hold. Periodically Jaz would check the console and call out the numbers.
“6000 metres.”
“4500 metres.”
“3000 metres.”
“2000 metres.”
“1500 metr... What the fuck!?” With a sound like a hammer on sheet metal something slammed into the lifeboat, shaking the occupants. Alarm chimes began to sound from the console as the lifeboat was gripped by something very large, very strong and very, very angry. Mira’s scream caused Jaz to jerk up and stare at the airlock door. Through the small window something was thrashing around. With a screech of protest, the airlock door was ripped from its socket and multiple questing limbs slithered in. Pale blue and thickly muscled these claw tipped tentacles flailed around inside the tight confines of the lifeboat. One of them gripped Mira’s leg, the large hooked claw sinking into her thigh causing her to scream in pain. An answering roar from outside nearly deafened her and the tentacle began trying to pull her from her seat.
“Mira!” shouted Jaz as he tried to unbuckle his restraint harness, only to be victim to the same system flaw and trapped in his seat. The other tentacles wrenched panels off the walls and ripped open supply packs. He saw several thinner tendrils slither in through the open doorway. As one drew near he slapped it away and his hand immediately fell, numbed and limp. Another wrapped around his left leg and suddenly it too went cold and numb. As a third began to wrap around his chest his free hand stabbed out and hit a button on the console.
With a roar the engine burst into life, burning away the parachutes and sending the lifeboat, its two occupants and their new passenger hurtling towards the ground nearly a kilometre below. Over the roar of the engines Mira could hear the roar of the thing outside as it fought to disentangle itself. She screamed again as the limb wrapped around her unravelled itself, leaving a claw stuck deep into her leg. Before it could extricate all its limbs the lifeboat smashed into the ground. Everything went black.
___________________________________________________________________________
The first thing that struck her when she awoke was the smell, burnt meat and hot metal, wafting through the little lifeboat. Then the pain hit her. All manner of aches vied for her attention. Bruised from her fight with Jaz, battered from the tumbling in the void and now from the crash landing. All of these paled in significance when compared to her leg. The visible part of the claw was almost as long as her forearm, hooked and wickedly barbed. It had punched into the meat of her thigh and she could feel it grinding against the bone of her femur. She tried to move but the restraint harness was still in place. As she became aware of her surroundings, she realised this might be a good thing.
The crash had been immense and had sent the lifeboat with its new passenger rolling and tumbling across the ground like one of god’s own dice. It had come to rest on its side leaving Mira dangling from her seat face down. She could see Jaz in his seat next to the now dim console. His head lolled at an unnatural angle. A thin blue limb wrapped around his shoulders and neck. The hole where the airlock used to be looked out onto a bright blue sky. All manner of packages littered the floor below her. Mixed here and there with blue tentacles draped over the seats like particularly ugly pillows.
Showing a very bad case of timing the restraint harness picked this moment to finally fail, sending her face first into the floor. The claw caught on one of the straps and ripped out of her leg on the way down. She screamed in surprise and pain before hitting the floor and blacking out.
The next few moments (or were they minutes? Hours? Days?) passed by in a haze. She remembered crawling on her hands and knees out the hole in the lifeboat. She remembered soft grass and a strong breeze. The pain made it hard to concentrate. She remembered seeing the thing that attacked them for the first time. The massive tangle of sky blue limbs and tentacles, the huge staring eyes and the gaping, fanged mouth. She really hoped it was dead. She remembered calling out, for her friends, for her mum, for anyone to come and save her. She remembered everything fading away as unconsciousness took her.
When she woke again it was to a soft pale light and the sharp smell of antiseptic. A dull throb emanated from her wounded leg, she reached for it and found it had been washed and bandaged. With a sudden start she realised she was no longer in her ship suit, lying under a blanket in little more than her bra and undershorts. Panicked, she looked wildly around the room. She was the sole occupant, lying on a camp bed under a fabric roof. A tent? All manner of cartons and boxes were stacked neatly on each side of the tent. On closer inspection she realised that these all had the insignia of the Donatello on them. Everything here, except the tent, was part of the supplies from the lifeboat.
A shout from outside caused her to jump. A second one made her shrink back into the blanket. She could hear people outside arguing. While she couldn’t understand the words there was no mistaking the tone. A long, low threatening growl came from right outside the tent, causing her to glance around wildly in search of a weapon. Outside the argument had become even more heated, raised voices shouting in a guttural language. Suddenly a loud crack split the air and then everything went to hell. All around her she could hear sounds of violence. Gunshots, the sounds of metal on metal, the sound of metal meeting meat. The growl outside rose into a weird hissing roar as whatever it was entered the fight. Mira’s questing hand found a heavy duty metal torch; she raised it in front of her like a club. With a loud crunch the noise outside finally fell silent.
For what felt like an age Mira sat there, her makeshift weapon at the ready. After maybe an hour she heard a noise outside, footsteps, coming closer! Mira raised the torch as the footsteps stopped right outside the tent. The zip holding the tent shut slid upwards and a large figure stepped in. Stooping slightly to avoid the low ceiling he walked towards her.
“Stay back!” she shouted, brandishing her torch “don’t come any close-” The words died in her throat as the tent flaps rustled again and a massive reptilian head nosed its way in.