Neo Chronicles: Black Void
Episode 32: You See Their Uniforms?
Table of Contents
I make my way down the hall. Manage to get to an open area hanger type area
There're more of those armored soldiers on board. Tearin' stuff up. The pirates are doin' what they can, though. Definitely not goin' down without a fight.
The soldiers are comin in from the ceilings now. Like some sorta swat force. They slide down on cables or ropes. What's the word I'm lookin' for? Falling? No, it's like a controlled descent. They're uh—ooh, I know this—rappelling! Yeah, that's it. They're rappelling down from the ceiling, controlling their descent with one arm and carrying their heavy duty firearm in the other. They're shootin' us like crazy. Everyone's a target in their eyes. Don't matter who, how, or why. Plasma bullets, bolts, electrical pulses, they dang near got a gun or rifle for it all.
The pirates wield their weapons wildly. There's no form or order, especially compared to the soldiers. They shoot up at whatever's shooting at them.
I see a dude spiked crab lookin' dude tuck his arms and legs into his shell and throw himself at soldier. The soldier blasts the dude dead in his tracks.
I see a four legged, centaur lookin' somethin' gallop from around the corner and charge into some dudes. He swings a mace and chain—think it's called a flail—around his side. Makes some dents in the soldiers' armors, but it ain't nearly enough to really put any down. One of the soldiers ends up shooting some sorta somethin that attaches to the centaur dude's chest and shocks him. Like a taser, but a lot more deadly. And by deadly, I mean, it looks like the dude's dead. There's enough electrical voltage in that blast that the hairs on his body starts singeing. His skin practically ignites. The centaurs brought down on all four of his knees. And just to make sure, the soldier pops him one last time in the dome. Blasts his head clean out.
They ain't takin' no prisoners. This is the beginnings of a massacre.
I hear the rapid buzzing of wings creep up on me. I grip my sword and turn, looking up.
“Whaddaya standin' around for?” It's Rutra. That ol' wasp like dude that I don't like. He's hovering overhead. His four of his feeler leg/arm things each hold a handheld pistol of sorts. No doubt filled with his signature poison bullets.
“I'm doin' everything I can to not get killed.” I answer. “What about you?”
“Well, there aren't any real hiding places left. These pnoks are doin' their damnedest to wreck everything! I just had to fight my way through a sea of fire to get here.”
“What do we do?”
“How the staak should I know?”
“This hasn't happened before?”
“Kid, we're pirates! We're the ones who usually do the raiding. This mosst right here? I don't know what to make of it. They caught us completely by surprise.”
“So they're pirates, too?”
“You see their uniforms? That is grade-A law enforcement. These are cops. Trained killers. The guys we spend our entire lives trying to avoid. I hope you can see why.”
“If they're cops, does that mean, they're just here to arrest us? If we surrender, we'll be alright, right?”
“Are you blind? We're not fighting to avoid some petty jail time here. These are the mercenaries of the law. The guys they call in to take out the deadliest, most vile dregs of society in the galaxy. And in case you missed the memo, that's us! They're not here to take prisoners or put us on trial.”
The soldier mercenary cops turn their sights at us, and with it, a hale of lasers lights our way. Rutra buzzes off to the side to avoid the initial bursts. He returns the fire in kind. I do my best to roll in the other direction. Some of their lasers graze me. Most of them don't.
I take to my feet and run at a group of soldiers camped out in the middle of the wide open area. They're standing back to back, shooting in every direction. Figure if I can knock them out, there'd be more room for me and the crew to take cover. They're not makin' it easy, doe. I see they have that two-manned cannon blaster of theirs aimed on me. I tightly grip my sword with both hands, and pull it back. One good slash at the wind should send out an energy wave to knock 'em clean out.
But then, in a loud, crashing sound, something big lands to my left. Next thing I know, I'm feelin' a heavy, metal armed block of somethin, ram itself right in my left cheek bone. Knocks me clean off my feet. I'm sent floppin' all over the floor, crashin' an' bumpin' an' rammin' into crates, cargo, junk, people – you name it. If it's in here, I hit it. Finally stop when I hit the nearest wall. I'm shook. Felt like a ton of bricks. Bout near gave me a concussion. Dang. Dang and Ow.
When I look up from the rummage I've made for myself, I see the dirty poser that decked me. They got mechs now? Sure, why not? I see a nine or ten foot, mechanized robotic suit, all bulked out, armored out, arms as thick as a tank. Homie's got more guns than he knows what to do with. Barrels juttin' out from its back, on its forearms, from its chest. You know somethin's up. A'ight den. I'm game. Time ta throw down, ya feel me?
I pick myself up and look at the robotic monstrosity. I notice my sword's lying between the two of us on the floor. If I can get to it, shouldn't be no issue in cuttin' that thing down. I'm fired up. Got my fists clenched, shoulders out, my mean-muggin' game face on. These fools don't know. They don't e'en know. I'm bout ta tear through every last one of 'em.
BEAST MODE!
I leap into action. The mech's already shootin' me with everything he's got. Gatling gun fire from his chest. The bullets pick and tear at me like hornets. Nothin' penetrating my skin yet, but, it stings. It hurts. Doesn't stop me, doe. Then come the shoulder cannons.
The barrels that were jutting from the mech's back come down and aim lock on at me. One for each shoulder. They each fire. Two very loud, high octane, green laser blasts sent my way. Can I tank it? I'm not willin' to find out, so I dash, I duck and make it to the side. I don't need to look to see the devastation it causes behind me. I can hear the lasers tear through the very fabric of this ship. The beams are continuous. Drilling their way all the way down to the level beneath us.
They're still firing. The mech turns to try and get me caught up in the beam. I may not be the fastest somethin' around, but when my life's on the line, I'm fast enough to get the heck outta dodge. I run out to the side. Hate that I didn't get close enough to grab my sword, but priorities first.
Out of the mech's arms come missiles. I'm still running away from him, but the missiles are trailing me. I stop and change direction. The first two missiles whiz by my face. I'm coughing from having to inhale their smoggy exhaust. I twist my upper torso to barely avoid the next missile. Lift up an arm and watch this other one fly under my armpit. All this bobbin' an' weavin's made me lose a lil' bit of my footin'. I find myself diving—or falling, depending on your perspective—headfirst at the next two missiles. I bury my head within my arms, and brace myself for the worst.
Two heavy, explosive impacts on my forearms as I skid across the floor. Feels like my arms are on the verge of breaking. I lie on the ground for a moment, just to catch my breath. Hot steam and adrenaline is all I got to keep me goin'. I look up and see the mech is two feet in front of me with his giant boot tryna ram its way down on my head. I roll out of the way.
The impact of the mech's stomp puts a giant hole straight through the floor. I chuckle a bit. The ol' dumb-bot's foot is stuck. While he's focused on trying to free himself, I spread out my arms on both sides, duck down, an' lunge at the dude. I'm throwin' all my weight on him. It's a straight up tackle. I grab his free leg in my charge, and use all the momentum to take him down to the ground. MMA style.
Our weight—mostly his—combined with how hard I ram into him is just enough to not only topple the mech over, but also break through the floor. We're both heading down to the next level of the ship, the B-level.
My body hurts all over. My bones ache. My muscles are sore all over. I look at the wreckage me and the mech've caused. The upper level's still fallin' down. Dust and broken rubbish is all over.
This lower level of the hanger's jus' as messed up as it was up there. Soldiers and pirates all over. A blaze of lights flickering, shimmering, an' shootin' every which way. I see Rutra's still buzzin' around bein' a pain to anyone an' everyone he can. Good for him.
The soldiers on the ground tryin' they darnedest to shoot the bug down. Rutra's too quick for 'em, doe. It's like he's got a sense for danger, an' knows just the right twists an' turns to take in order to avoid it. His aim's dead on, too. Dude's wieldin' four different hand guns, an' manages to find marks for alla' dem. Each shot hits a soldier dead in the chest, dead on the head. The shots are clean and deadly, leavin' holes, blastin' off limbs, tearin' up appendages.
Then I hear some mechanized whirrin' sound. Come to find out, the mech I took down is still live an' tryna aim his shoulder cannon dead at my face. Can't be havin' that.
Before the mech can fully charge up, I grab the barrel an' squeeze as tight as I can. Searin' pain. Burnin' pain. The barrel is hot! I see smoke seep out from it. Then with all of my might, I pull back, tearin' the gun from its back. After tossin' it to the side, I pull back a fist. Then the mech's gattlin' gun chest open fires.
A thousand tiny bullets spray all over me. Like the hottest of pebbles, bangin' against my chest. It's almost too much for me to bear. It is too much. I can't stand it any longer, but I gotta. I gotta do somethin' to stop it. Block out the pain. Cry about it later. Concentrate. God, it hurts. You know it hurts.
I cover up one of the Gatlin's with the palm of my left hand. The bullets still firing. A thousand tiny fire ants. None of 'em are piercin' through, but I can't help but wince at all the things goin' on underneath the surface. Just the repeated impact of the bullets is enough. I grit my teeth to try an' endure tha struggle.
I swing my right fist down like a hammer on the mech's head. Smashes right through his visor. I pull back an' hammer down again. The dent is deeper. I keep smashin it's dome until I finally plow my way through it. This last punch digs its way all the way through the mech's head. I was hopin' t'get through an' see the pilot somewhere in there, but no such luck. It's all mechanical. Exposed wires, sparks of electricity shootin' out, gears still turnin'.
Jus' means I gotta go deeper.
I pull back another fist, and aim it just a little lower. I throw the punch at his torso. It goes through the Gatlin that's still shootin'—that was shootin'—at me. There's a small explosion that's set off as a result. And as for the other Gatlin, the one that my hand's still coverin' up, I clench it, tight. The parts barrels that set off the bullets stop turnin', an' I manage t'summon enough strength to pull it apart, rippin' it straight outta the dude's chest.
I toss the scraps to the side an' keep on diggin'. Every punch I throw from atop this dude ends up breakin' the mech apart more an' more. Bit by bit, piece by piece. There goes an arm, there goes the other one. Now I'm pullin' it apart. Bare-handed. The shootin' finally stops. There's nothin' left t'shoot with.
Still haven't found any man or creature or alien inside. Maybe the mech really is mechanical. Through an' through. That bein' the case, I don't feel so bad about doin' this: I lift up both of my arms, clench my fists together, an' swing down as hard as I can. I end up crushin' what remains of the mech's torso. Through an' through. This thing ain't gettin' no more.
I fall back on my tail, an' look up at the ceilin'. Everything hurts. I don't think I can move. Shoot, I'm done, dawg. I am done!
Then I see the soldiers start pilin' on Rutra. He's flown an' zipped an' buzzed as best as he could, but they finally done got him. I see one grab him by the arm, pull him out the air, an' slam him on the floor. Another steps on his hand. I can hear the crushing, squishing sound of somethin' breaking. Dang. Ol' dude can't go out like dat!
I pick up one of the broken pieces of this mech I'm sittin' on an' toss it they way. It clunks the soldier straight on his dome. Gives Rutra the split second he needs to crawl on his feet, an' fly away.
I see Mera's duck-billed, green, dinosaurian self runnin' away from a group of soldiers. Runnin' with her is another dude. He's not as tall as Mera, but definitely wider an' heavier set. Blue skin all over. Face of a bear, ears of a rabbit, body of a pig, arms of a man, legs of an ostrich. No fur or feathers, but he's covered in a black vest an' some black camo shorts. All that covers his blue skin. Different shades in different areas. You know aliens be all over the place wit dey looks.
Any kinda way, Mera an' the blue dude is runnin'. They each carryin' wit 'em da heavy duty. Mera shoots out behind 'em with an automatic assault rifle. The soldiers return the fire in kind. The blue bear shoots out in front of 'em with a huge pulse cannon. The soldiers return the fire in kind.
Through all of the commotion, the soldiers shoot a missile at them. Mera's quick reflexes allow her to see the missile's path and evade it, but in spite of her warnings, ol' blue bear isn't quick enough to react himself. He gets hit dead on, right in the back. He goes down, tumblin' an' rumblin'. Mera stops runnin' an' tends to the dude. She's a sittin' duck right now, but she don't care.
Against every fiber in my bein', I stand up. My knees is shaky, legs barely feel like they can support my own weight. Arms feel scalded. My suits all but tatters surroundin' my torso now. It hurts to move. It hurts to breathe, but I trudge on. But get this.
Before I can even take three steps in their direction, I'm hit. It's dat same ol' electrical bolting pulse shot almost took me out before. Hits me square in the chest. Knocks me off my feet, sends me flyin' back. Soon as my now bare back, skids across the cold, hard, metal floor, I'm holdin' myself. Dang, it hurts. I'm reelin' in agony over here.
Where the crud's my sword?
If I can find it – darn it! I look around the ground. It ain't no where to be found. Crud. I can't take another hit like that. The bullets are fine. The lasers, I can endure, but that pulse? No way. Crud.
I hear it. Blocked out all the other noise in the area: the shoutin', screamin', bulletfire, plasma bolts; I hear it. The whirrin' sound it makes right before firing. Where's it comin' from? There! I see them. Two soldiers, hidin' behind some crates. One holdin' the front end, the other pullin' the trigger. Jus' like before.
It fires. Move, dangit. Move!
Just about made – nope, nope, nope. Not happenin'. Crud.
I manage to stand, but beyond that, nada. So I cross my arms, shielding my head an' upper torso, an' brace myself for the worst. I don't know if it's because I'm standin' in an upright an' ready position, or if it's because I'm too tired to fall, but the blast doesn't knock me down this time. It definitely scoots me back, doe. I see the skid marks on the ground. At least three feet.
That same surge is pulsatin' through my body, except more, because it is more. I lower my guard, an' just throw myself forward into a run. I run as fast as I can. One foot thrown in front of the other. My sights are set on the soldiers hidin' out now. They're the numba one priority right now. I can't let them get another shot off.
I already hear the whirring. Am I gonna make it in time?
The two giant mechs crashin' down in front of me answer that question. All of their weapons are drawn an' aimed at me. The ridiculousness, the sheer audacity of the situation offends me. I'm runnin' on fumes now. Pullin' out all the reserves for this.
“You have got t'be,” I duck down, clench my fist together, “kiddin' me!” an' jump up, punchin' straight through the torso of the mech on my left. Straight through. Through its very core. The mech immediately explodes. Pieces of its robot body go flyin' every which way: arms, fingers, legs, guns, the whole nine.
Through all the smoke an' dust that's kicked up, I grab the second mech's arm an' jus' start pullin'. I hear the mechanics shriek as the mech tries to pull against me. Two things workin' in complete opposition to each other. What do you think happens? The mech's arm tears clean off. Sparks cackle an' fly rapidly an' randomly every which way.
I then kick at the mech's legs. Roundhouse. The kick is clean. The kick is forceful. The kick has a target. Right at the inside of its knee. I kick clean through it. The mech topples an' tumbles over.
Still, it tries to open up, an' aim its barrels my way. At that same moment, I see the soldiers in hiding have finally fired their latest pulse. First thing that comes to mind is to punt it.
“Just shut up!” I yell at the mech as it starts shootin' its rapid fire bullets at me.
An' that's exactly what I do. I punt the ol' rust bucket, an' it's headin' straight for the blast.
BOOM
A violent collision. Explodes right on impact. The shockwave sent out from the mech hitting that electrical pulse blast forces everyone in this wide, open, bay area to collapse.
Great. Now everyone's attention is on me. Soldiers an' pirates alike. The soldiers are the first to recover. They pretty much drop what they're doin' an' aim the rest of their fire my way. It comes at me from all directions. Like rain, the bullets trickle down. Like hail, the plasma bolts crash over me.
All in slow motion.
Episode 32: You See Their Uniforms?
Table of Contents
I make my way down the hall. Manage to get to an open area hanger type area
There're more of those armored soldiers on board. Tearin' stuff up. The pirates are doin' what they can, though. Definitely not goin' down without a fight.
The soldiers are comin in from the ceilings now. Like some sorta swat force. They slide down on cables or ropes. What's the word I'm lookin' for? Falling? No, it's like a controlled descent. They're uh—ooh, I know this—rappelling! Yeah, that's it. They're rappelling down from the ceiling, controlling their descent with one arm and carrying their heavy duty firearm in the other. They're shootin' us like crazy. Everyone's a target in their eyes. Don't matter who, how, or why. Plasma bullets, bolts, electrical pulses, they dang near got a gun or rifle for it all.
The pirates wield their weapons wildly. There's no form or order, especially compared to the soldiers. They shoot up at whatever's shooting at them.
I see a dude spiked crab lookin' dude tuck his arms and legs into his shell and throw himself at soldier. The soldier blasts the dude dead in his tracks.
I see a four legged, centaur lookin' somethin' gallop from around the corner and charge into some dudes. He swings a mace and chain—think it's called a flail—around his side. Makes some dents in the soldiers' armors, but it ain't nearly enough to really put any down. One of the soldiers ends up shooting some sorta somethin that attaches to the centaur dude's chest and shocks him. Like a taser, but a lot more deadly. And by deadly, I mean, it looks like the dude's dead. There's enough electrical voltage in that blast that the hairs on his body starts singeing. His skin practically ignites. The centaurs brought down on all four of his knees. And just to make sure, the soldier pops him one last time in the dome. Blasts his head clean out.
They ain't takin' no prisoners. This is the beginnings of a massacre.
I hear the rapid buzzing of wings creep up on me. I grip my sword and turn, looking up.
“Whaddaya standin' around for?” It's Rutra. That ol' wasp like dude that I don't like. He's hovering overhead. His four of his feeler leg/arm things each hold a handheld pistol of sorts. No doubt filled with his signature poison bullets.
“I'm doin' everything I can to not get killed.” I answer. “What about you?”
“Well, there aren't any real hiding places left. These pnoks are doin' their damnedest to wreck everything! I just had to fight my way through a sea of fire to get here.”
“What do we do?”
“How the staak should I know?”
“This hasn't happened before?”
“Kid, we're pirates! We're the ones who usually do the raiding. This mosst right here? I don't know what to make of it. They caught us completely by surprise.”
“So they're pirates, too?”
“You see their uniforms? That is grade-A law enforcement. These are cops. Trained killers. The guys we spend our entire lives trying to avoid. I hope you can see why.”
“If they're cops, does that mean, they're just here to arrest us? If we surrender, we'll be alright, right?”
“Are you blind? We're not fighting to avoid some petty jail time here. These are the mercenaries of the law. The guys they call in to take out the deadliest, most vile dregs of society in the galaxy. And in case you missed the memo, that's us! They're not here to take prisoners or put us on trial.”
The soldier mercenary cops turn their sights at us, and with it, a hale of lasers lights our way. Rutra buzzes off to the side to avoid the initial bursts. He returns the fire in kind. I do my best to roll in the other direction. Some of their lasers graze me. Most of them don't.
I take to my feet and run at a group of soldiers camped out in the middle of the wide open area. They're standing back to back, shooting in every direction. Figure if I can knock them out, there'd be more room for me and the crew to take cover. They're not makin' it easy, doe. I see they have that two-manned cannon blaster of theirs aimed on me. I tightly grip my sword with both hands, and pull it back. One good slash at the wind should send out an energy wave to knock 'em clean out.
But then, in a loud, crashing sound, something big lands to my left. Next thing I know, I'm feelin' a heavy, metal armed block of somethin, ram itself right in my left cheek bone. Knocks me clean off my feet. I'm sent floppin' all over the floor, crashin' an' bumpin' an' rammin' into crates, cargo, junk, people – you name it. If it's in here, I hit it. Finally stop when I hit the nearest wall. I'm shook. Felt like a ton of bricks. Bout near gave me a concussion. Dang. Dang and Ow.
When I look up from the rummage I've made for myself, I see the dirty poser that decked me. They got mechs now? Sure, why not? I see a nine or ten foot, mechanized robotic suit, all bulked out, armored out, arms as thick as a tank. Homie's got more guns than he knows what to do with. Barrels juttin' out from its back, on its forearms, from its chest. You know somethin's up. A'ight den. I'm game. Time ta throw down, ya feel me?
I pick myself up and look at the robotic monstrosity. I notice my sword's lying between the two of us on the floor. If I can get to it, shouldn't be no issue in cuttin' that thing down. I'm fired up. Got my fists clenched, shoulders out, my mean-muggin' game face on. These fools don't know. They don't e'en know. I'm bout ta tear through every last one of 'em.
BEAST MODE!
I leap into action. The mech's already shootin' me with everything he's got. Gatling gun fire from his chest. The bullets pick and tear at me like hornets. Nothin' penetrating my skin yet, but, it stings. It hurts. Doesn't stop me, doe. Then come the shoulder cannons.
The barrels that were jutting from the mech's back come down and aim lock on at me. One for each shoulder. They each fire. Two very loud, high octane, green laser blasts sent my way. Can I tank it? I'm not willin' to find out, so I dash, I duck and make it to the side. I don't need to look to see the devastation it causes behind me. I can hear the lasers tear through the very fabric of this ship. The beams are continuous. Drilling their way all the way down to the level beneath us.
They're still firing. The mech turns to try and get me caught up in the beam. I may not be the fastest somethin' around, but when my life's on the line, I'm fast enough to get the heck outta dodge. I run out to the side. Hate that I didn't get close enough to grab my sword, but priorities first.
Out of the mech's arms come missiles. I'm still running away from him, but the missiles are trailing me. I stop and change direction. The first two missiles whiz by my face. I'm coughing from having to inhale their smoggy exhaust. I twist my upper torso to barely avoid the next missile. Lift up an arm and watch this other one fly under my armpit. All this bobbin' an' weavin's made me lose a lil' bit of my footin'. I find myself diving—or falling, depending on your perspective—headfirst at the next two missiles. I bury my head within my arms, and brace myself for the worst.
Two heavy, explosive impacts on my forearms as I skid across the floor. Feels like my arms are on the verge of breaking. I lie on the ground for a moment, just to catch my breath. Hot steam and adrenaline is all I got to keep me goin'. I look up and see the mech is two feet in front of me with his giant boot tryna ram its way down on my head. I roll out of the way.
The impact of the mech's stomp puts a giant hole straight through the floor. I chuckle a bit. The ol' dumb-bot's foot is stuck. While he's focused on trying to free himself, I spread out my arms on both sides, duck down, an' lunge at the dude. I'm throwin' all my weight on him. It's a straight up tackle. I grab his free leg in my charge, and use all the momentum to take him down to the ground. MMA style.
Our weight—mostly his—combined with how hard I ram into him is just enough to not only topple the mech over, but also break through the floor. We're both heading down to the next level of the ship, the B-level.
My body hurts all over. My bones ache. My muscles are sore all over. I look at the wreckage me and the mech've caused. The upper level's still fallin' down. Dust and broken rubbish is all over.
This lower level of the hanger's jus' as messed up as it was up there. Soldiers and pirates all over. A blaze of lights flickering, shimmering, an' shootin' every which way. I see Rutra's still buzzin' around bein' a pain to anyone an' everyone he can. Good for him.
The soldiers on the ground tryin' they darnedest to shoot the bug down. Rutra's too quick for 'em, doe. It's like he's got a sense for danger, an' knows just the right twists an' turns to take in order to avoid it. His aim's dead on, too. Dude's wieldin' four different hand guns, an' manages to find marks for alla' dem. Each shot hits a soldier dead in the chest, dead on the head. The shots are clean and deadly, leavin' holes, blastin' off limbs, tearin' up appendages.
Then I hear some mechanized whirrin' sound. Come to find out, the mech I took down is still live an' tryna aim his shoulder cannon dead at my face. Can't be havin' that.
Before the mech can fully charge up, I grab the barrel an' squeeze as tight as I can. Searin' pain. Burnin' pain. The barrel is hot! I see smoke seep out from it. Then with all of my might, I pull back, tearin' the gun from its back. After tossin' it to the side, I pull back a fist. Then the mech's gattlin' gun chest open fires.
A thousand tiny bullets spray all over me. Like the hottest of pebbles, bangin' against my chest. It's almost too much for me to bear. It is too much. I can't stand it any longer, but I gotta. I gotta do somethin' to stop it. Block out the pain. Cry about it later. Concentrate. God, it hurts. You know it hurts.
I cover up one of the Gatlin's with the palm of my left hand. The bullets still firing. A thousand tiny fire ants. None of 'em are piercin' through, but I can't help but wince at all the things goin' on underneath the surface. Just the repeated impact of the bullets is enough. I grit my teeth to try an' endure tha struggle.
I swing my right fist down like a hammer on the mech's head. Smashes right through his visor. I pull back an' hammer down again. The dent is deeper. I keep smashin it's dome until I finally plow my way through it. This last punch digs its way all the way through the mech's head. I was hopin' t'get through an' see the pilot somewhere in there, but no such luck. It's all mechanical. Exposed wires, sparks of electricity shootin' out, gears still turnin'.
Jus' means I gotta go deeper.
I pull back another fist, and aim it just a little lower. I throw the punch at his torso. It goes through the Gatlin that's still shootin'—that was shootin'—at me. There's a small explosion that's set off as a result. And as for the other Gatlin, the one that my hand's still coverin' up, I clench it, tight. The parts barrels that set off the bullets stop turnin', an' I manage t'summon enough strength to pull it apart, rippin' it straight outta the dude's chest.
I toss the scraps to the side an' keep on diggin'. Every punch I throw from atop this dude ends up breakin' the mech apart more an' more. Bit by bit, piece by piece. There goes an arm, there goes the other one. Now I'm pullin' it apart. Bare-handed. The shootin' finally stops. There's nothin' left t'shoot with.
Still haven't found any man or creature or alien inside. Maybe the mech really is mechanical. Through an' through. That bein' the case, I don't feel so bad about doin' this: I lift up both of my arms, clench my fists together, an' swing down as hard as I can. I end up crushin' what remains of the mech's torso. Through an' through. This thing ain't gettin' no more.
I fall back on my tail, an' look up at the ceilin'. Everything hurts. I don't think I can move. Shoot, I'm done, dawg. I am done!
Then I see the soldiers start pilin' on Rutra. He's flown an' zipped an' buzzed as best as he could, but they finally done got him. I see one grab him by the arm, pull him out the air, an' slam him on the floor. Another steps on his hand. I can hear the crushing, squishing sound of somethin' breaking. Dang. Ol' dude can't go out like dat!
I pick up one of the broken pieces of this mech I'm sittin' on an' toss it they way. It clunks the soldier straight on his dome. Gives Rutra the split second he needs to crawl on his feet, an' fly away.
I see Mera's duck-billed, green, dinosaurian self runnin' away from a group of soldiers. Runnin' with her is another dude. He's not as tall as Mera, but definitely wider an' heavier set. Blue skin all over. Face of a bear, ears of a rabbit, body of a pig, arms of a man, legs of an ostrich. No fur or feathers, but he's covered in a black vest an' some black camo shorts. All that covers his blue skin. Different shades in different areas. You know aliens be all over the place wit dey looks.
Any kinda way, Mera an' the blue dude is runnin'. They each carryin' wit 'em da heavy duty. Mera shoots out behind 'em with an automatic assault rifle. The soldiers return the fire in kind. The blue bear shoots out in front of 'em with a huge pulse cannon. The soldiers return the fire in kind.
Through all of the commotion, the soldiers shoot a missile at them. Mera's quick reflexes allow her to see the missile's path and evade it, but in spite of her warnings, ol' blue bear isn't quick enough to react himself. He gets hit dead on, right in the back. He goes down, tumblin' an' rumblin'. Mera stops runnin' an' tends to the dude. She's a sittin' duck right now, but she don't care.
Against every fiber in my bein', I stand up. My knees is shaky, legs barely feel like they can support my own weight. Arms feel scalded. My suits all but tatters surroundin' my torso now. It hurts to move. It hurts to breathe, but I trudge on. But get this.
Before I can even take three steps in their direction, I'm hit. It's dat same ol' electrical bolting pulse shot almost took me out before. Hits me square in the chest. Knocks me off my feet, sends me flyin' back. Soon as my now bare back, skids across the cold, hard, metal floor, I'm holdin' myself. Dang, it hurts. I'm reelin' in agony over here.
Where the crud's my sword?
If I can find it – darn it! I look around the ground. It ain't no where to be found. Crud. I can't take another hit like that. The bullets are fine. The lasers, I can endure, but that pulse? No way. Crud.
I hear it. Blocked out all the other noise in the area: the shoutin', screamin', bulletfire, plasma bolts; I hear it. The whirrin' sound it makes right before firing. Where's it comin' from? There! I see them. Two soldiers, hidin' behind some crates. One holdin' the front end, the other pullin' the trigger. Jus' like before.
It fires. Move, dangit. Move!
Just about made – nope, nope, nope. Not happenin'. Crud.
I manage to stand, but beyond that, nada. So I cross my arms, shielding my head an' upper torso, an' brace myself for the worst. I don't know if it's because I'm standin' in an upright an' ready position, or if it's because I'm too tired to fall, but the blast doesn't knock me down this time. It definitely scoots me back, doe. I see the skid marks on the ground. At least three feet.
That same surge is pulsatin' through my body, except more, because it is more. I lower my guard, an' just throw myself forward into a run. I run as fast as I can. One foot thrown in front of the other. My sights are set on the soldiers hidin' out now. They're the numba one priority right now. I can't let them get another shot off.
I already hear the whirring. Am I gonna make it in time?
The two giant mechs crashin' down in front of me answer that question. All of their weapons are drawn an' aimed at me. The ridiculousness, the sheer audacity of the situation offends me. I'm runnin' on fumes now. Pullin' out all the reserves for this.
“You have got t'be,” I duck down, clench my fist together, “kiddin' me!” an' jump up, punchin' straight through the torso of the mech on my left. Straight through. Through its very core. The mech immediately explodes. Pieces of its robot body go flyin' every which way: arms, fingers, legs, guns, the whole nine.
Through all the smoke an' dust that's kicked up, I grab the second mech's arm an' jus' start pullin'. I hear the mechanics shriek as the mech tries to pull against me. Two things workin' in complete opposition to each other. What do you think happens? The mech's arm tears clean off. Sparks cackle an' fly rapidly an' randomly every which way.
I then kick at the mech's legs. Roundhouse. The kick is clean. The kick is forceful. The kick has a target. Right at the inside of its knee. I kick clean through it. The mech topples an' tumbles over.
Still, it tries to open up, an' aim its barrels my way. At that same moment, I see the soldiers in hiding have finally fired their latest pulse. First thing that comes to mind is to punt it.
“Just shut up!” I yell at the mech as it starts shootin' its rapid fire bullets at me.
An' that's exactly what I do. I punt the ol' rust bucket, an' it's headin' straight for the blast.
BOOM
A violent collision. Explodes right on impact. The shockwave sent out from the mech hitting that electrical pulse blast forces everyone in this wide, open, bay area to collapse.
Great. Now everyone's attention is on me. Soldiers an' pirates alike. The soldiers are the first to recover. They pretty much drop what they're doin' an' aim the rest of their fire my way. It comes at me from all directions. Like rain, the bullets trickle down. Like hail, the plasma bolts crash over me.
All in slow motion.
