Ch. 10

Disclaimer: TP is not mine. The only thing I own is the utter satisfaction in being able to tell T-Money that, YES, I finally got around to posting this.

Captain Maltor would have years to wonder just how they managed to escape the notice of the posted lookout, but nonetheless, the Imperial forces made it aboard the Llao, and the only warning he was given as he was woken from a sound, half ale-induced slumber was from that of the ship's newly repaired klaxon system. The piercing sound greeted him all the more loudly as he emerged in the hallway and began barking commands and demanding explanations.

"…I don't know how they got on board," he heard his assistant Sloek explaining in a winded voice to a unit commander, "Just locate the members of the boarding party and bring them here. Captain Maltor will likely want to deal with them personally."

Despite the urgency of the situation, Maltor couldn't help but be impressed by just how right the man was. When he found those responsible for this, they would pay for it with their lives.

Raymond tagged closely—VERY closely—behind Amelia as they tried to make their way into the bowels of the ship. They had personally taken on the job of sabotaging the engines to prevent escape. Given how deep the location was in the ship, Amelia couldn't bring herself to send the much younger, much less experienced members of her strike team. No, this job required a special sort of stealth and finesse, and would prove to be fatal if not handled properly.

The two of them took refuge under a stairwell as a group of sleepy Procyon soldiers charged by, weapons in hand, as they headed for the main deck above. Amelia took a moment to thank whatever deity was listening for the fortune they had met with so far, and beseeched them to extend it just a little further. She then turned her head to check and see if the coast was clear. She was relieved to see it was—she was beginning to cramp up in the small space and Raymond's hot breath on her neck was becoming more than a little irritating.

"Need you stay so close?" she hissed.

"Trying to keep you safe, Amelia," he grinned.

She rolled her eyes, but then concentrated her full efforts on making it down the hall. With a gesture of her head, the two of them made the way down the length as quickly as they could manage. Amelia's ears flicked a few times as she tried to pick up a trace of the sounds of the engine room. She thought she heard a telltale hum on her left, and quickly sped into the next left-handed hallway she could find. They made it down the length of that one, and down a dark stairway when Amelia finally pinpointed the sound she had heard. Now confident that they were going the right way, she barreled ahead as fast as she could, amazed that the much larger Raymond was able to keep in step with her so easily.

They were almost to the heavy doors of the engine room when a voice cried out, "Intruders!"

Amelia whirled around to see a stout gunman fumbling with his weapon. She pointed her own at him.

"Drop it," she warned.

The man did not comply, however, and raised his rifle to her head.

It took only a fraction of a second more, it seemed, and Raymond was absolutely stunned to find it had happened. He had seen a quick shot in his time, but the speed with which Amelia reacted to the gunman and fired her own weapon was uncanny. In the time it took him to draw a breath, the Procyon was on the floor, dead from a precisely lethal shot to the head. Raymond looked at his partner in amazement.

"He should have dropped it," she muttered, then headed for the door, weapon held at the ready. With a booted foot, she kicked open the door and in the same instant shot the guard waiting on the other side. Raymond stepped in beside her and the two of them quickly ducked behind some crates filled with spare parts as the guard's companions returned fire. While the Procyons had them outnumbered two to one, the Academy-trained Captains clearly had the advantage in skill, and the better marksmen won the day eventually. When the volley of fire ceased, Amelia listened closely for further movement. Hearing nothing, she stood.

"It's likely somebody heard that," she said, "Let's blow these engines and get out of here before the entire cavalry is sent in."

Raymond couldn't argue with that assessment.

They planted the small explosives in the places where Umar had instructed them; the machinery was at its weakest there, and damage would cause a breakdown that would be impossible to fix quickly. Once all the explosives were in place, the two of them took cover and set off the cascade mechanism. One by one, the small devices blew, showering metal and fire all over the deck. Once the noise and the smoke were nearly clear, Amelia listened closely for any advancing troops. She heard a small group to her left, and while they lamented their situation with "Damn!'s and "What the Hell?'s, she was able to squint out their location and take them down with almost perfect efficiency.

The two of them stepped over the bodies as the fled to the main deck, looking to each other only to share a look of victory as they heard the rest of the team begin to power up the ship's weapons from above deck. They emerged to find an all out mini-war on the main deck, complete with thick firefight, bleeding wounded and loud bellowing.

Amelia surveyed the situation carefully. It seemed they had only gained control of the starboard side cannons, but easily half the Procyon fleet rested on the other side, and would they would therefore need a weapon or two to be operational in their cause. She conveyed this sentiment to Raymond.

"We'll secure one apiece," he said in a rushed breath, "The two largest ones—that should give us ample firepower to hold them off before the rest of our ships can come and give us a hand."

Amelia nodded and fought her way toward the massive laserball cannon. She gritted her teeth in frustration at her slow progress—the Procyons were nothing if they weren't good fighters, and even sleep deprived, they were proving to be a formidable match. Now, more than ever, she cursed her recent weight gain and found herself just narrowly escaping more than a couple of shots.

She was only a few feet away from her destination when she came face to face with a particularly large soldier. He swung with his massive arm and knocked her to the ground, sending her blaster flying. She blinked several times to clear her swimming head, and manage to kick him in the knee just as he reached down to grab her around the neck. His knees gave way, and he rocked the deck with his tumble. Amelia managed to clamor away as fast as physically able, and grabbed the first weapon she laid her fingers on. It happened to be a saber, still gripped in a dead man's hand, but it would certainly do better than nothing at the moment; no matter WHAT condition she was in, she would never be a match for her opponent in hand-to-hand combat. She didn't put much thought into her actions, and found that time blurred as she charged for him. When her mind caught up with her body, the man lay dead at her feet, run through many times in the gut. Amelia dropped the saber in favor of her gun and left the dead man lying there as she hopped on top of the cannon. She flipped a few switches and a warm hum greeted her as the weapon began to charge. She looked to her side to see that Raymond had also been successful in procuring a weapon, and was handing its operation off to a young 1st lieutenant.

"You," Amelia pointed to one of her charges, who had just limped away from a fight of his own, "Man this weapon. When it charges fully, take aim at the Armada ships across the way."

"Yes, ma'am," he saluted, then threw himself into the seat, happy for the brief rest.

Amelia took a minute to envy the fact that the soldier got to take those precious moments to sit, but then she grabbed another of her unoccupied men, and instructed that he defend the gunner with his life. After the command was promised to be obeyed, she hopped down from the platform and joined the fight. She made way for the command post of the ship, hoping to further sabotage any possible escape for the flagship. Opting not to use the stairwell, she threw herself onto the rigging and climbed up to the mast as fast as she could. Her hands grasped the wood just as a shot blazed past her face, searing the fur just under her right eye. She perched precariously on the mast and shot back from her good vantage point, all the while trying to inch her way to the sails just over the bridge. When she had made it there, she blasted apart a few pieces of rigging until she came up with a rope of appropriate length to allow her to lower herself to the floor. She sighed as she remembered a time when she could turn flips from the same point (and alternatively impress Canids), but thanked her lucky stars she had been fortunate enough to have such assistance at a time such as this. When she reached the bridge below, she helped those of her men already there make quick work of the defending Procyon officers. Then, no longer impeded by firefight, she shot up the main controls until she was sure they were irreparable without at least 6 or 7 hours worth of intensive work.

Convinced that the ship wasn't going anywhere anytime soon, she set up the small communications beacon she had tucked in her pocket. With a push of the button, she signaled the rest of her fleet to come and assist them. She had originally toyed with the idea of not getting the rest of the ships involved at all, but at the moment, her luck was going strong, and she chose not to ruin her good fortune by giving in to overconfidence. With the signal set, she turned around to rejoin the firefight below.

She made it only three paces before she was pinned to the wall, her face pressed against the rough and worn boards. The pressure on her shoulders made her release her gun against her wishes. The hand that held her skull held it firm as he hissed, "Who is that beacon for?"

Amelia tried to struggle, but found the effort useless. When she offered the attacker no explanation, she felt the cold tip of a saber at her neck.

"Won't tell me your secret, eh?" he growled, "Very well. Take it to your grave then."

To Be Continued…

A/N: Wow. It's been a long long time, but here's 10. I dedicate this chapter (even if it sucks ;p) to Tmyres77, since it was her who insisted (A LOT) that I get off my lazy arse and post it. For you girl. ;)

Love to all my readers. Hope you enjoyed the ending to this chapter. :evil grin:

(C'mon! She LIVES people! LOL)

Well, review and hate on me anyway. ;)

J.