Responses to Earlier Comments:
Chronus1326, Galactica is next - at least some of the crew for starters. I've got 10 or 11 paragraphs already written.
War Sage, I've been waiting for this too. Cru is a little like the Punisher in his particular skillsets, but right now, he's gotten into just one toe-to-toe confrontation and got his butt kicked.
Galactica Actual said I should keep up the good work - so I got that going for me, which is nice. :) Thanks for the comment, GA.
Chapter 15, The Repelling of Boarders
Please note: I own no part or share in the Battlestar Galactica realm, either commercial or otherwise. This story is submitted for entertainment purposes only.
Reminder: I did not spend time making up non-earth names for common things; candles are not "Flaming Wax-Ons/Wax-Offs" and unicorns aren't "Stabbie Horses".
"Better to have a hammer and not need one, than to have a need and not have a hammer. At the end of the worlds, and somewhat regrettably, the same must go for guns."
~Cru's journal, if he had time to keep one.
Bree's Twin, Early Morning - Caprica Time, Day 35
Continuation from previous. The converted freighter, BREE'S TWIN, had a number of odd readings that seemed like equipment failure but was, in actuality, someone who had sneaked aboard. That someone has just broken into Cru's cabin.
Cru took a short moment to note the figure in slate gray attire, combat boots, black knit ski mask, a short-barreled revolver in one hand, and a thick nylon zip tie in the other. That zip tie was meant to bind Cru's hands. The pistol was the enforcer. The gunman saw Cru's empty bed and the blanket on the floor. His gaze slowly turned towards Cru. Cru captured all of these details with one glance. This man was armed and he was no one Cru knew. When the intruder saw Cru in the low light of the room, and Cru's weapon's in-hand, he swung his sidearm around for a shot. But in a moment when fractions of seconds separated life and death, he was two minutes too late.
Boom! Boom!
The shots rang out. In the small room, they were deafening. Cru didn't stop to look. He stepped over the man whose lifeblood was spilling away out onto the deck. Cru took no chances. He entered the hallway with one weapon pointing up towards the bridge and the other down towards the receiving deck.
There was no sound from the bridge where John should have been.
The receiving deck was well lit and was echoing with the sounds of running feet. An assault team had landed on BREE'S TWIN. They may have been military. They may have been mercenaries. They may have been a civilian militia or common thugs. It didn't matter to Cru. They were armed and they were hostile, which made them targets.
The galley was empty except for a jar of peanut butter on the table - sometimes John made a late-night snack. The door of John's cabin was wide open and no one was inside.
A man and a woman appeared in the entranceway facing Cru. They were dressed in the same urban-assault attire as the fellow lying on the floor in Cru's room. They were wearing knit caps instead of ski masks, and the woman had on a police-style body armor vest.
The two looked at Cru and Cru looked at them. They shared a short pause, a hesitancy as if guns-up and the use of them, were not part of the plan. The pause ended. The man, on the left, flattened against the wall and fired, one-handed, downrange at Cru, just as Cru dropped to a knee and returned fire. The woman rounded the corner enough to bring her semi-automatic assault rifle to bear. The two assailants hurried their shots and missed - all eight to ten rounds. Cru did not. Cru squeezed off three rounds with his 9mm, at the fellow on the left, and two rounds with his .45 at the woman on the right. The fellow fell where he stood. Cru's .45 caliber, the larger of the two handguns, did not penetrate the woman's body armor but the two rounds he fired gave her a brutal thumping, like a sledgehammer to the chest, and caused her to stumble backward. Cru finished her with two shots from the 9mm. The smaller caliber handgun fired a smaller faster round. It not only penetrated her armor, but it set a timer on the remainder of her life.
Cru stood and took a step forward. Nope. They didn't miss. They got him - probably the woman. He was hit between his side and his arm. The bullet savaged both his left-side torso and the inner portion of his bicep as it struck and tumbled. He had two wounds from one bullet, which was a first for Cru unless you counted entrance and exit wounds as two, of which he had several. Neither of the new injuries was life-threatening but they hurt like frak and would leave impressive scars.
Cru entered onto the receiving deck, tucked low, with guns up. He emptied his 9mm towards the access portal because someone was diving for cover over there. Aim small - miss small. The construct was fundamental.
Across from him were two more assailants; both were men and both were wearing the quintessential urban gray that marked this strike team. The first assailant had been dragging Cookie, Evvie's daughter. He let her go. He didn't have a distance weapon - he had a small folding knife at the bottom of his pocket. Cookie was unconscious and she fell to the deck in a lump. The other assailant was quicker to act. He had been dragging Badger, Evvie's son. He had already dropped the kid and was bringing his mostly illegal, spray and pray, machine pistol up to bear. He had an eye for putting many holes in Cru, and he had just the tool to do it.
The gunman was fast but Cru was faster. Cru pumped two rounds into him. The first bullet dragged him like a ragdoll on a string, back against the lockers behind him. It didn't matter what the second bullet did - although it was grievous - the first impact was more than enough to cover the needful.
"Stop! Stop! Don't shoot!" shouted the second man. His name was Holk. "Please don't shoot!"
Cru leveled his aim at Holk, chest high and just right of center. Cru had two shots left in the big .45 handgun and no idea if he hit whoever was by the access port or if there were others inside the docked shuttle. He sidestepped over to the spray-and-pray machine pistol lying on the deck, all the while keeping both a deadly bead on the man in front of him and a sharp listening ear for movement behind him at the access port.
Cru tucked the empty 9mm under the beltline of his shorts. He risked a glance at the machine pistol as he picked it up and heft it in his hand.
"Thirty-round magazine and set to full auto," said Cru with a whistle. "Frak me."
Just then, the access portal slammed shut.
Cru whirled in place with both weapons up - the .45 towards the portal and the machine pistol towards Holk. The ship could be heard detaching. A green light lit up, indicating a good seal and nothing attached on the other side. Cru's shuttle had been moored there and he could not guess where it was now. His focus returned to Holk and the two children lying on the deck.
"Looks like your pals left you," said Cru. He didn't show emotion. He just stated a fact.
"They weren't my…I wasn't…"
Cru looked up with a deadly scowl. His comment wasn't meant for a reply. Holk fell silent.
"So what about these kids?" said Cru. "This doesn't look good."
"No one was supposed to get hurt," said Holk.
"Hurt?" growled Cru. "Your teammates are dead. You're dead." He wondered about John, Evvie, and Tanner. Cru's room was broken into with the intent to capture, bind, and subdue, as evidenced by the nylon zip tie, and enforced by the handgun. But the attempt was foiled by a simple rubber doorstop. He feared for what may have befallen the others.
Just then, the fellow by the entryway, the one who had flattened himself against the wall and fired blindly at Cru, gurgled and coughed blood. He was still alive. Cru wanted to shoot him to make his point, to really make his point, but also, he had an adrenaline-induced urge to try out the mini 'Handgun-of-Death' he had just taken possession of.
"Turn around slowly," said Cru, instead.
"I'm unarmed," said Holk as he shuffled through a full circle.
"That was stupid of you."
"It wasn't stupid. The others brought guns - I didn't. This was just a heist. We were supposed to be in and out, with no one the wiser."
"Right…," said Cru. He wasn't convinced. "Where are the others?".
"There's one of us in the back. I don't know where she is."
"Not your people, dumbass, mine."
"I don't know. Their rooms, I guess. Look, I swear, this was just a heist. No one was supposed to get hurt."
"Yeah, you keep saying that," said Cru, "except you were stealing kids, which doesn't help your case - at all."
"It wasn't about the kids, I swear."
"That would be contrary to the obvious," said Cru with a gesture towards Cookie and Badger, "should you happen to look downward."
"I'm here," called Evvie as she climbed the steps onto the deck. She looked to have just done battle. Her hair was tussled. Her lower lip was swollen and bleeding. Her hands and her shirt were spattered with blood. She had a hunting knife in her hand. It was slick with blood.
"My children are…gone," said Evvie. Words failed her when she caught sight of Cookie and Badger, unmoving, on either side of Holk.
"What have you done?" Evvie demanded. She raised the knife, the one she had just used to end a woman's life.
The fellow shook his head ever-so-slightly, but he and the rest of this team had been caught in the act; both children were at his feet. "I swear, this wasn't me. We were told to bring the drugs. We didn't know why."
"You drugged my children?" Evvie was enraged. Shoot him!" She roared as she pointed the knife at Holk. "Shoot him or I will cut him to pieces."
"Done," said Cru. He straightened his aim and squeezed the trigger, but halted in mid-draw.
"Mom?" said a tired and confused voice. It was Cookie.
Cru pulled up his weapon and held it away so Cookie could not see it or the machine pistol.
Evvie rushed to Cookie. Holk backed up to the wall, next to his dead partner.
Badger stirred.
"Emily, Honey, come with me. Help me with your brother," said Evvie as she helped Cookie stand up.
"Mr. Cru…?" asked Cookie. She looked at Cru with blinking eyes. The confusion continued, which was helpful. She did not need to see the death surrounding them.
Evvie woke Badger and got him standing as well. She led both children towards the stairs. She looked back at Cru, over to Holk, and back to Cru. Her eyes conveyed an expectation that Cru finish what needed to be done. She turned back to her children and proceeded with them to the stairs.
"Mrs. Hawkins," said Cru as he pointed to the small office. He kept his eyes focused on Holk. "Set them up in there. We stick to the areas we control."
Evvie nodded.
"Lock the door behind them," added Cru.
"Lock the door?" said Evvie.
"I don't know who else is aboard," said Cru. He turned to Holk. "Do you?"
"Aboard?" said Holk. "I don't know. There were eight of us, in total."
"Including whoever took off with the shuttle? The pilot?"
Holk nodded. "Yeah, eight total."
Cru did the numbers in his head. He accounted for five of the dead or wounded and Holk was six. But, Evvie was spattered with blood. She must have dealt with one as well. That would make seven. The eighth likely undocked their shuttle and fled with it.
"Evvie?" said Cru.
Evvie turned around.
He gestured to her front and the spattering of blood. In a low voice, he asked, "Are you hurt?"
"It's not mine - it's from some woman who came at me," said Evvie as she turned back with her children. "She's dead now," added Evvie over her shoulder. "I used your knife. Knives are dangerous. You shouldn't leave them out." She looked back at Cru. The corners of her mouth curled up in a sad accepting smile. It was not a smile of joy or happiness - or perhaps it was, in some part. She had her children back. But it was definitely 'gallows humor', a wearied smile in the face of death.
Cru nodded.
"Listen-" said Holk
"Listen? To you?" said Cru. He pointed the pistol at Holk again. "We are past that."
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," said Holk in a panicky voice. "I know this looks bad, but don't kill me. Please. Look, I know people."
"What a stupid thing to say," replied Cru. "You know people. Either you are about to threaten me or you are about to attempt to bribe me. I'm not interested in any of that. In fact, it tends to speed up my judgment." Cru aimed the pistol.
"Please!" said Holk."It's not what I meant. I mean, it is what I meant, I mean, the bribe part. I know people who can get you anything you want. Listen-"
"There's that word again," said Cru. He clicked the pistol off safety. But instead of shooting Holk, he sidestepped towards the access portal where he had seen another of Holk's people diving for cover. "Don't move."
"I won't. I'll stand right here."
Cru found the body. There were three vent holes in the torso and two impact marks on the wall. Cru had made good shots considering the distance fired, his rushing the shots, and the target moving.
"Is he dead?" asked Holt.
Cru didn't answer.
There were multiple boxes of their food stores stacked up. It was a heist. They were taking their food and they were taking the two kids. Cru considered Holk's words and allowed in his mind that the kids might have been an afterthought by whoever was leading this team. Or, they were part of the plan all along, but not everyone, like Holk, was in on it.
Cru stepped back into the middle of the room as Evvie finished with the kids and locked them in.
"Why is he still alive?" said Evvie.
"I'm working on it," said Cru.
"Please don't," said Holk.
"Shut it," said Cru.
"Fine. I'm going to check on Mr. Destre," said Evvie. She gave a simmering glower at Holk. She still had Cru's knife. She was still ready to cut Holk into pieces.
John had been up on the bridge. He would have come down with a rifle or a pistol in hand, or both, at the first sounds of trouble. The bridge had been silent when Cru entered the hallway from his room. John might or might not be up there and he might or might not be alone.
"Mrs. Hawkins, hold up…" Cru began.
Cru took his eyes off of Holk for a moment and Holk took that opportunity to strike. He dropped low and grabbed for his partner's second sidearm from the man's ankle-holster. It was a desperation play. Holk knew he was a dead man. He was convinced that Cru would kill him. Cru had already made that plain.
Cru turned back at the rustle of motion and recognized the new threat. He brought his hands together and took a step back into a modified shooting stance. Evvie ducked with her arms up in reflexive defense.
"Don't!" shouted Cru. Both the .45 pistol and the machine pistol glinted in the bright room light.
Holk swung up a snubnosed .38 caliber revolver and fired.
Holk shot wide and struck the wall. Cru fired two rounds into, and through, Holk's chest - they were the remaining rounds left in the large handgun. He zeroed in with the machine pistol but there was no need.
It was over. Holk was knocked back against the wall, where he fell into a heap. Cru advanced and kicked away the smoking handgun.
Cru turned and his eyes met Evvie's. They stared at each other for a long moment. Cru was comfortable with death. Evvie was new to it. Evvie's assailant would be found later on the floor, next to the bed in her room. The body, a woman's, will have several slashing cuts and a deep wound in the stomach, just under the ribcage, and angled upward into the heart. It was a killing blow, given by Evvie.
"Is it over?" asked Evvie. "Is he the last?"
Cru nodded his head. "I think so. I'll know more when I can get back into the systems."
~~~~~/~~~~~
Cru and Evvie found John hanging, upside down, near-vertical, over the edge of the bridge maintenance pit. The maintenance pit was an open area located in the forward-most nose of the bridge for access to all the countless data and control lines connected there. John had been bound and gagged and tossed bodily into the pit where he fell into the interconnecting pipes and hung there. His leg was twisted at an unnatural angle. His face was a purplish hue. Blood from a head wound had formed a puddle beneath him. He was silent and unmoving - mostly.
Cru jumped down into the pit and removed the gag from John's mouth.
"Can someone help me?" said John with a weak voice. "I feel like all my insides have squished into my head."
Cru muscled John upward. Evvie took hold of his shirt and hauled him up from above. John's leg twisted and the man grimaced in pain.
"We Gotcha," said Cru as he unhooked John's leg. "We gotcha, pal" he repeated.
This ends Chapter 15
Some vision notes (what I was thinking at the time)
I find it crazy hard to write three-way conversations - even small ones like mine. Heaping respect on J.K. and her 7 novels with three highly interactive characters.
Anyone waiting for the cat to appear - it will be soon. Cookie's door was left open when she was dragged out to the receiving deck.
Ships are made to withstand meteor impacts at high speed. I figure discharging weapons inside ships is no biggie. Except maybe Jayne and Vera. That could be a problem. (Any Firefly fans out there?)
Cru has made multiple mistakes on what people are capable of - he walked onto the PYXIS unarmed and he had hints that someone extra was aboard BREE'S TWIN, but assumed mechanical failures instead of a coordinated robbery. This is the last time he'll be caught unawares.
Six (maybe seven) of the attackers had guns. That seems like a lot, but I think if people piled into ships, in a panic, to get off-planet and away from the Cylons, some would take whatever weapons they could. After thirty-plus days in cramped quarters, I think like-minded people would find each other, just as this team did.
As always - please leave a comment. In another fanfic, I received a long review that was highly critical, and hard to stomach, we even exchanged several emails that were brutal, but they absolutely changed my writing for the better. All comments are welcome.