Chapter V: Crisis Point
Another blue streak of light flashed by overhead, the smell of burning ozone permeating the hanger. Aram crouched behind a bunch of crates, Delta-Four, Elhaim Soban, beside him. The staccato bark of a bolt rifle firing filled the air, sparks flying off walls and barricades around where the aliens had piled into the hangar. From what Aram had seen so far, there where two types of soldier, a smaller, more numerous kind, and the larger breed.
"We've gotta get to the doorway!" Elhaim shouted to get her voice above the rifles noise. She pointed to the doorway where the majority of the hangar crew and pilots had barricaded off and made into a temporary defensible position.
Aram leant over the barricade momentarily, loosing off a spread of flechettes in the direction of the enemy. Satisfyingly, he saw a smaller creature tumble sideways, dark red ichor sluicing down its arm. A blue bolt of a plasma like substance impacted with the ground in front of their barricades. Ducking back behind the crates, he felt a tug on his arm. Elhaim nodded at the doorway. A man, crouched behind an upturned lifter, was counting down with his fingers.
"Ready?" She squeezed his arm reassuringly before crouching down slightly.
The man lowered a second finger.
3…
Aram shuffled his feet and tightened his grip on the handle of the flechette rifle.
2…
People stood up behind the counting man. He yelled something, which Aram assumed to be now, but his voice was drowned out by the horridly loud sound of two-dozen assorted kinetic weapons firing at once. Tracer rounds and targeting aids lanced out towards the enemy position, marks of death, probing for those ready to die. Elhaim pulled him forward, dragging him into the line of fire whether he was ready or not. He nearly stumbled, but the sight of one of the larger alien warriors pointing at him seemed to fuel his legs, propelling him forward faster. An aura of blue streaks climbed up its forearm, coalescing into a ball in its tri clawed hand. A blue bolt shot out, missing Aram by half a meter, and melting its way through an interceptor's canopy. He felt himself being pulled to the ground as Elhaim dived behind the barricades, her hand fastened about his.
He hit the ground with a muffled thud, his shoulder jarring painfully against the cold metal floor. He lay there for a moment, listening to the symphony of firepower playing out around him. Something burnt his neck, and he jolted round quickly, expecting to see some alien plasma dripping off the thirty-meter high roof.
But instead, standing above him was a burly man hefting a massive gun single-handed. Cigarette ash dropped from a lit smoke held between tightly pressed lips onto him. The same expression everyone had, grim determination.
Further towards the rear of the hangar, he saw someone flung backwards, a globule of bright glowing blue plasma eating through their chest. They screamed for little more than a second, before it degenerated into a gargle, their ruined lungs filling with liquefied organs and skin. Aram gagged as the smell wafted in their direction.
Elhaim knelt beside him, reloading her flechette rifle. She jerked her head in the direction of the enemy.
"Come on, get up and give us a hand"
She got back up into a hunched position, quickly darting up to let of a few rounds before dropping back down again.
Aram leant against the nearest barricade, and took a deep breath before leaning out sideways to open fire. One of the warriors was crouching behind a barricade, but Aram could see its leg exposed. It shimmered a translucent green colour at the sides, folds and ripples looking like gills or fins. The front and back was covered over by infinitely more sturdy looking material, obsidian black in colour.
Flinching once as a blue projectile hit the cargo container in front of him, he lined up his flechette rifle on the creature. Tapping the trigger for the smallest possible time, he watched as the razor sharp slugs pinged off the black metal, and then ripped open holes in the green layer. An emerald coloured fluid began to pour out, splashing onto the floor. The alien jerked backwards as the black material that made up the rest of its body flowed over the damage, sealing the leak of fluid. Aram thought that nothing must have happened, but as the warrior was moving backwards, it stumbled against the doorframe, clawed fingers digging deep into the metal. Pressing his advantage, he lined up on the creatures body, holding the trigger in. The alien jerked about as hundreds of tiny razor fragments slammed into its body. But whatever he had done to its leg did not affect its survivability under normal conditions. It forced its arm forward, the limb twitching under the flechette assault. A blue glow spiralled into its hand, and Aram ducked back into cover as the creature vented its rage on the barricade.
The door he was currently facing slid open. Eight full armoured hostile environment assault troops marched in. He heard whistles of appreciation and noises of relief. These where the soldiers normally use for space installation boarding missions, where it is entirely possible they could be exposed to vacuum, the effects of nearby ion cannon dissipations and volatile plasma overflows. They cradled large, smooth black guns that hummed slightly as the marines took up positions around the crates. One of the armoured soldiers took up position next to Elhaim and Aram, steadying his gun on the makeshift barricade. He flicked a switch on the side of the weapon. The whining noise it had been emitting climbed in pitch, until it became inaudible. The rifle made a very distinctive snap-hiss noise as it fired, and a white line instantly joined the barrel and the far wall of the hangar. One of the alien warriors was looking at his midsection, arms coming in to clutch the point where the white trailhad impaled him. The green liquid that filled their suits began to trickle out of the wound at the front, and out of multiple exit wounds at the back. The white line evaporated, particles drifting upwards towards the ceiling. The alien slumped onto it's knees, trying to contain the flow of the substance which had become a torrent, however now the fluid was tainted with a purple colour.
Rail Driver! Aram looked at the gun, which was in essence a scaled down version of the mass drivers used on most combat ships. They fired an ablative-coated slug that fragmented forward in a cone upon impact. The weapon hissed, and ejected a fist-sized cylinder from its underside in a cloud of steam. The marine slipped a new one from his bandolier and slammed it into the weapons underside. It began to hum again.
He looked at the alien. It had fallen backwards, laying on it's back while it tried in vain to apply pressure to all its wounds. The green puddle around it was growing, and blue veins of energy crawled up its arms randomly. Then it began to wail, a strange, droning noise, which sounded vaguely melodic. It repeated the same cry over and over, each time it grew louder.
Even though he couldn't understand it, Aram knew what it was saying. Its what any soldier says in its position, lying wounded directly in the enemy's line of fire would be uttering.
I don't want to die.

We all felt it, the horrible shredding feeling as the Hiigarans projectile cut into his abdomen. We all jerked backwards in unison, minds tricking us. We tried to take his pain, make the suffering less excruciating, but this was something new to us, this feeling of helplessness as we felt him begin to slip away from our minds, as both his and his t'uri's life blood bled out onto the cold sterile floor.
This was not something we where prepared for, this finality of not being.
Two of us ran forward to grab him.
I pointed at the enemy and snarled, I had begun to learn how to make my own songs.
Eight of us stepped forward and opened fire upon the new threats, the armoured ones with the star beast weapons. They recoiled backwards; the anger in both our t'uri and ourselves increasing the destructive power of our projectors. Blue heat reached outwards as we protected the wounded, the all around told us to bring him to her.
One of them fired on me with the needle like guns as I turned towards the door leading out.
- mine - I whispered into the others minds. None challenged my claim as I strode forward, a geherin falling to the fire directed at me when I walked past it. I looked at it disinterestedly as its rounded body split apart under the fusillade of razor projectiles.
I heard his cry again, and felt the anger and desperation of the rest of us. They helped me, taking my pain as I passed the charge from my form into the t'uri. I could feel the living armour shudder as I put so much energy into it. The others armours reached for it, comforting it as it focused the force I had given it into a useable weapon. We fired, but I could not direct it properly, such was the power. The bolt of energy went wide, exploding into a great roiling pillar of liquid fire to the right of the main body of the enemy. I saw at least five of them melt away, their forms dissolved by our fury. A nearby small pilot craft, it's aft caught in the blast, exploded. The eruption blew open its spine, before devouring the whole thing in fire. The superheated remains of the craft shred another one of the Hiigarans. His finality especially violent. More where thrown to the ground as they ducked to avoid it. I felt a slight satisfaction in our minds as we all witnessed this, the ones already carrying the wounded self away watching through my eyes.
- speed – I heard being whispered by a multitude of minds as I turned from the enemy, the pitiful little razor weapons doing nothing to me.
I left the cavern room, and was beginning to return to the all around when I felt something new. A feeling in my, our, minds, which prior to now had only been felt leaking from the wounded ones mind.
Something else was being awoken in the all around. Something huge and insatiable, I felt it regard my mind and I tried to hide from it, to shrink away. It was not many like us, it was a single self. We know you, we whisper. You are Polemarch; you are the all arounds bondself. It regarded us with cold contempt, understanding we had failed. It reaches deep into our subconsciousness, creating illusions, making us want to run.
The all around comforts us, while reprimanding Polemarch.
I…what is this feeling?
The beast whispered into all our minds, amusement permeating its thought tone.
-it is fear-

"Good news Admiral," Tactical Officer Sybillina Manaani said, turning from a consoles readout. " Colonel Verenhorfs squad have successfully disentangled the port side swordship"
Ses-Nabaal grunted. First piece of Sajuuk damned good news all mission. He and the tactical officer where the only ones on the bridge at the moment, all non-essential personnel had headed to the bow to assist in repelling the aliens. The fighting was going well, although the shock troopers where basically unstoppable by small arms fire, they could be brought down or made to retreat via heavier weaponry or large numbers.
Two marines stood by the entrance to the bridge, so Ses-Nabaal had placed his pistol on a nearby chair arm. He looked a table of statistics on a nearby screen. Casualties among the Hiigarans where moderate, while the only recorded casualties among the aliens had been those smaller 'fatties', the numerous round creatures which swarmed into an area before the shock troops arrived.
"They are requesting permission to clear it. The colonel regretfully says it will cause superficial damage to Twilight's hull."
Sybillina stood, waiting patiently, hand over the microphone on her headpiece.
The admiral sighed; a little extra damage now was inconsequential. He waved his hand, and nodded. She smiled comfortingly, and said something almost sub vocally into the microphone.
When he had returned to Hiigara safely, he would resign; turn over his position to another, more capable commander. A muffled thump sounded out, and a flash of orange appeared down to the port bow of the Dreadnaught. Hyperspace did strange things to violent events like explosions. The bright merging colours of the fireball smeared, and ran, leaving something looking somewhat like an afterimage from looking at a star.
On the tactical overlay screen, the port side of Twilight ran back to blue as they regained control of the ships systems. Damage assessment subroutines came online, hunting out from the ancient warships computer core, which, incidentally, the Hiigarans had no idea was located.
Areas became yellow, then orange, then red and finally black as the program evaluated the damage levels. The hull around the swordship impact hole was black, a rip wide open to space.
Progressing slowly through the corridors of the Dreadnaught, green triangles converged on the remaining swordship; they occasionally flashed red as they encountered enemy contacts.

Scars burnt the corridor walls and deep projectile impacts had caused a lattice network of cracks to cover most of the surfaces as well. Four fatties lay in the corridor, their bodies torn apart by heavy flechette rifle fire. The marine at point, with the incinerator, turned into a left branching of the hallway. He was flung backwards, a sizzling ball of plasma eating its way through his armoured suit. He screamed, and tried to clamber up onto his knees, to bring the incinerator to bear, but two more bolts of the blue energy slammed into him, one from behind, and one from the front. The three remaining squad men took up positions closer to the walls, the only sound they could hear that of burning flesh. Then the first two heard a shout, in the second it took them to turn around, the rear man was already collapsing to the ground, blood spurting out of a vicious wound in his neck. His assailant was nowhere to be seen. The remaining two looked at each other, perspiration shining their brows.
Run, one mouthed at the other. They got up, and the second they weren't looking at one another, something appeared between them. It lashed out with its two upper arms, the ones that ended in hand like appendages, catching the marines in the face. The sides of their heavily reinforced helmets fractured under the pressure, white cobwebs of stress racing outwards from each of the alien's finger tips. The creature slammed them to the ground with sickening force, soft, squelching cracking noises filling the corridor, the clatter of their shattered helmets echoing into the sudden deathly silence.
It was gone again.

One of the green triangles nearest the swordship faded out of existence. The tactical officer frowned.
"That's strange…" she hummed to herself thoughtfully " all the shock troops are accounted for"
Then another triangle winked out. And another. All in the same section of Twilight, all headed in one direction. Another abruptly disappeared. She reached reassuringly for her pistol, fingers scrabbling across the soft upholstery of the chair she had placed it on, her fingernails clacking quietly against the plasteel as she fumbled to pick the weapon up. The triangles winking out reminded her of old medias she had seen in the academy of fusion drive trials before the Homecoming. How old thrustships, much like the Khar-Selim had been, would attempt to shut down the flow of agitated plasma from their containment bottle. The drive plume would wink out, and observers and crews would hold their breaths. If they where lucky, the ship would continue to sail on through the eternal night of space, awaiting reactivation of the drive. If they where unlucky the ship would explode into parts little smaller than dust as vast amounts of uncontrolled plasma flooded the vessel. A momentary star shining brightly, and then disappearing, never to be seen again.
Another triangle winked out. Closer this time.
I don't think we're going to have luck on our side… she thought.
"Sir" Sybillina said, turning to the admiral " I think we're going to have visitors soon"
Ses-Nabaal looked up at her. He looked a lot older, but maybe it was the combination of running lights and the blue pulses of the alert lights casting shadows; deep creases marred his forehead, and his skin seemed paler than normal. His smoky grey eyes still held a fierce determination in them, a look she had seen once before, high above Hiigara. He turned to the communications screen he was at momentarily, and closed the link, an engineer's face being replaced by a rotating Hiigaran Navy symbol against a cyan background.
"They've repaired some of the damage to the hyperdrive, we can revert to realspace when we wish" He tapped in another set of digits into the communication screen. The senior helmsmen face appeared, his eyes covered by a pair of dark goggles that lightened in seconds. Behind him was what appeared to be the busy venue of the aft hangar, crews working to repair the multitude of damaged strike craft. Everyone was helping in whichever way they could. "Ayon, come to the bridge please, we can control the hyperspace core now"
The man nodded and the image winked out again. Sybillina cleared her throat, looking nervously at the door, and then at the tactical map as a small ping alerted her to the demise of another triangle.
"Uh…Sir" She began hesitantly. "I have reason to believe there are enemy forces approaching us"
The two armoured marines moved into the bridge further, heavy rifles covering the door. Sybillina and Ses-Nabaal stood a few meters behind the marines, pistols drawn, as what would hopefully appear to be a gesture of defiance, however futile. Another triangle blipped out on the tactical display. This time it was the squad that was stationed in the hallway beyond the bridge blast door.
They stood in silence, waiting for some kind of assault to begin on the meter thick door. Sybillina could feel darkness creeping in on the edges of her vision.
Breathe damnit! She sucked in a deep breath. None of the three men in the room so much as looked at her. The door rippled slightly. She pulled the trigger; panic sending reflex impulses to her finger, snapping it down. The polished silver service flechette pistol jerked backwards as a spray of tiny razor blades ejected from the barrel. An almost invisible column of gas leaking out the side indicated the consummation of the caseless round. The minute shards of alloy hit something, because they began to slow. With an abrupt whiplash motion, the fragments snapped to a standstill.
In mid air.
A larger alien creature appeared around the frozen projectiles, shimmering into view.
It looked at the four, weapon-toting Hiigarans standing around it.
They looked back at it, fingers twitching on triggers.
"S…t…wa...it" It hissed in broken Kushan-La, it's stuttering syllables permeated with its own alien tongue.

I could feel anger filling the all arounds thoughts.
The Polemarch had thrown something into our minds, a deep feeling of satisfaction.
None of us could look into its patterns, to see what it was thinking about.
Neither could the all around.
Then it spoke into our minds.
- For too long have I been caged inside the all around. I am not a weapon, which can be put into storage when it I am not needed. They created me too determined to preserve one.
And then it was gone. We could not even feel the slightest indent of its self, wavering against the barriers of our minds.
Already we could feel the all around drawing itself from the metal beast, preparing to leave. It beckoned us back aboard.
I stepped through the membrane that separated us from the beast. My armour detached itself from me, whispering gratitude in my mind, and propelled itself through the liquid to rest against the far chamber lining.
The all around pressed into our minds, anger hurting us. Polemarch had betrayed us.
We are leaving.