The HTC was slow.
It was the first flaw Drake Fox noticed about his new ship. A flaw that he did not like one bit. The one thing that he wanted so badly to do was to charge the Blade Ship at full speed and strafe its hull until it was reduced to rubble. While even in a Model 28 Fighter it would be next to impossible, in an HTC, it was suicide.
But the ship compensated for its lack of speed by having extra firepower and its own personal PDS. Bug Fighters would be hard pressed to cause any damage.
The blip on Frost's radar told Fox that he was about to test his theory. Derek tapped the radar. "Um... Fox? We got incoming."
Fox didn't turn to look at Frost; he was too busy turning to continue his safe orbit around the Blade Ship. "Where?"
The red laser that clipped off a few centimeters of the HTC's nose answered for Frost. A violent quake shook Drake in his seat, bouncing him against his restraining belt, but he was more focused on rolling the ship on its portside wing and banking away from the second flight of four Bug Fighters that flew past after their first strafing run.
"Switching on the PDS! Frost, go manual!"
-----
Commander Brian West felt alone, being in the front of the single file line floating at a direct course to the hull of the Blade Ship. The single hatch on the massive bulkhead was their only course of action, and West knew that there had to be guards there, waiting, watching for them.
It was not going to be an easy way in.
Out in space, Brian couldn't hear the explosion, but he could see the blinding light and feel the shockwave. The Bug Fighter, about a hundred meters out, seemed to implode, and then with twice as much force, sent itself scattering.
The starboard wing of the destroyed fighter flew like a boomerang toward the remnants of the Alpha Team. Brian watched with horror as the wing crashed in, and then through, the fifth man in line. Hanseckart's scream pierced through the main channel and was like a siren, until the worst happened.
His shriek was cut off, and silence filled the void.
The wing was long gone, and all that was left of the German was a few drops of blood that separated and became perfect spheres in the vacuum. West turned away. He keyed up the last few Seraphims that were in the back of line and pressed them onward. "We've got work to do," he muttered.
Cassie was sobbing. McCain was silent. The rest, likewise quiet. Brian wasn't going to focus on that. They weren't going to stop now. They can't go back. He hit the stabilizing thrusters and planted his feet on the hull, a couple of meters away from the six-by-four foot hatch. In the matter of seconds, he had turned sideways and still felt like he was right-side-up. Space never seemed to have any logic to it.
Neither does death.
Brian shook away the thought and waited until the remaining six likewise landed and activated their gravity boots. Don't stop. Find Berenson. The massive vibrations of three Bug Fighters zooming meters away from them, firing at an unseen enemy (or ally, in Brian's mind), made his words sound broken, and he was asked to repeat it. "Hatch?"
Out of McCain's built-in pack on his HES, Chris took out a handheld keypad with an adhesive stuck to it. Brian took it and pulled the plastic off the adhesive and slapped the device on the hatch, wriggling it to make sure it was secure. He punched in six-digits, and felt the air slowly begin to seep out from under the rubber-like material that kept the room pressurized. Slowly, deliberately, and with the help of McCain, Brian opened the hatch.
"Fire in the hole!" Michele tossed a flashbang in the hatch. Brian closed his eyes and turned away from the opening until he saw the briefest of flashes that managed to get through the shading of his eyes.
West was the first to float in. The room was quite large, with a good-sized glass desk to his left, a terminal sitting on the desk, a few stacks of papers along with it. Some of the papers were floating away from the stack, with the lack of gravity in the room. A long sofa, at the wall behind the desk, began to shift from the floor, as well. To his right, a wet bar with a few known alcohols, and some definitely foreign drinks, was starting to move around and glasses broke without a sound.
The door across the room and straight ahead of him opened to the side. The thing that walked through was a sight that Brian couldn't shake away.
It was humanoid, without a doubt. Its skin was hardened, like a soft rock, and its coloration was also abnormal, with a cold, greyish-blue that would slowly become a pure red on the edges of its body. On the back of its head was a cord that actually seemed to be connected to the skull and the brain and was hooked to something inside its lower back. Its eyes were red, its pupils were like a cat's, only horizontal.
But it was the claws that Brian noticed.
At the wrist, the skin began to harden even more until it was almost like a mixture of bone, skin, and metal. The claws, arranged in fives, like a human hand, were like a triangular prism, but tapered at the end, and curving slightly down, like katanas.
The katanas, in this case, were a foot and a half long.
Not even attempting to see if it was a friend or foe (as West knew it sure as hell wasn't a friend), Brian raised his M-25 and shot from the hip, aiming into the chizeled chest of the hybrid. The three round burst drove into the abdomen of the creature, and then exploded as it half-way penetrated through its body. The thing shrieked, an animalistic cry that sounded like a Velociraptor from Jurassic Park. A piece of its lower body was missing, three craters that were about three inches in depth and two inches in diameter spouted blood. The hybrid didn't seem to mind the open wounds as it charged West, claws coiled back to strike.
Brian rolled to the left and pushed off the floor, the swipe of the claws narrowly missing him. He flew across the room and over the desk as he twisted in the air (or lack, thereof) and unloaded on the freak of nature. The enhanced NATO bullets pounded into its head, the subsequent explosions effectively decapitating it and finally rendering it incapacitated.
West grunted as his flight ended in an ungraceful collision with the wall. "Ow! Dammit."
McCain flew down the hatch, his gun at the ready. Michele and Jan Tormak followed, quickly separating to create a semi-circle with McCain to give them all intersecting fields of fire. Michaelson dropped down, along with Carbron, to complete the half-circle. Cassie flew down slowly, and remained inside their protective umbrella.
As quickly as it was created, Chris broke the circle and rushed to check on West, who floated crumpled against the wall. "Commander, are you all right?"
Brian looked at Chris' manifestation on his HUD. He grinned, feeling the sting of his little mishap. "Yeah, don't worry, the wall broke my fall."
"Oh, shit!" Michele looked down at the headless, bloody beast. Its body was a ragged shell of its previous horrific form.
"Yeah. That was my first reaction, too," Brian replied as he corrected his direction and helped Carbron and Michaelson close the hatch.
The suctioning sound, followed by the subsequent return of gravity throughout the ship, let them know that the section of the Blade Ship they were currently occupying had its atmosphere back. West accessed the main channel. "Keep your suits on. We may be able to breathe without it, but we're going to need the HUD."
He got six replies of acknowledgement. Brian had a sinking feeling that it would not last for long.
"And that," a voice in the back of his mind told him, "is the life of a Commander."
I understand, Professor. I get it, now.
-----
Tank felt strange being in the bubble turret on the underside of the HTC. It was like he was in an old World War II bomber, and being unable to see the rest of the ship from his position, it was like he was all alone, floating in the void.
That was until the ship started moving like a fighter, and his feeling of being alone turned into a feeling of nausea.
Weaving left and right, rolling and banking, Tank had a hard time getting a bead on the three Bug Fighters on their tail, flying in a V-Formation. The Fighters finally kicked in their thrusters, and as two of them flew on past the HTC, he hit the triggers on his turret.
The three-barreled turret, two Shredders and an ion cannon, let loose with a rapid pulsing fire, pounding into one of the fighters. The ion charges shut down the ship's shields, and the Shredders lanced into the top of the Bug Fighter's hull. He switched the pulsing to a stream from the Shredders, being mindful of the heat indicator that was prominently displayed on his HUD. The Fighter sped out of view as scales of armor were being shed from it and internal components being melted from the super-heated beams, but Tank felt the tremor of an explosion, followed by the HTC passing a cloud of fire and shrapnel, telling him that they now only had two to take care of.
The Blade Ship came into full view as Tank could see the last two members of the commandos entering via the hatch and closing it as they did so. He tossed them a whole-hearted salute and moved around in his turret to see what else he could shoot.