“I don’t see how this will work,” Quintus said.
“You’ll see soon enough.”
Quintus pulled up a schematic of the ship on a nearby monitor. “Indeed, if you’re keen on dying by my side, I’ll not stop you.”
He showed them the path from their present location to his personal quarters. Aaron and Lee committed the route to memory.
“You, me and Lee will push towards our objective. We only have two firearms. We’ll leave one here with your team and we’ll have the other.”
Like ants at work, the huddled loyalists disassembled the barricade.
****
Lee threw several stun grenades into the narrow corridor and charged the surprised enemy line. Their weapons weren’t quite useless since now they’d become effective melee tools. It would be far easier to shoot them all, but Aaron made it a special request—use deadly force as a last resort. Hopefully the Imperial Navy had adequate limb replacements in stock. These poor souls are gonna need them soon.
Finally realizing their weapons were useless, the bravest of the lot came out swinging. Lee bobbed and kept moving. Surely, the Commander could handle at least one of them. The others worked up the nerve, but the narrow ship corridor negated their numerical advantage. Perhaps he wouldn’t have to shoot any of them.
Wishful thinking.
As soon as it manifested, he tossed the thought aside. Shooting a few early on might convince the rest to scatter. The second and third Imperial scum took slugs to the knees, they’d probably never felt pain like that before, and hit the deck yowling. A rifled weapon loomed toward his face, but broke into pieces when he hammered it with his favorite arm. The attacker’s eyes bulged. Lee gripped and tossed him into the rear guard.
Both attackers regained their feet, exchanged glances and ran. Lee glanced back in time to see Aaron daze the first one he let pass and Quintus finish him with a blow to the back of the head. Moving right along then. Further down the corridor, men yelled and boots slammed the deck, moving closer. More meat for the grinder. A group of ten rounded the curve in the corridor. It was on now.
Four of them charged together, they didn’t even bother with their useless rifles now. Lee charged into them and half a meter before reaching dropped to his left knee and punched straight with his head down. The first two overzealous Imperials now floated through the air, back the way they came and into the waiting arms of more scum charging up the corridor. Lee slapped the other two towards Aaron and Quintus. He couldn’t have all the fun.
He aimed and discharged several low shots into the mass of charging centurions, causing the front line to fall, and those bringing up the rear to stumble on their fallen comrades. Jumping over the fallen, Lee swept his left boot into the face of one, then rocketed a right boot into the nose of another. By the end of this brawl, he was certain the Lord Commander guy would agree it might have been better to shoot the traitors in the head. He grabbed one of the fallen ones and launched him up into the overhead. The Imperialist hit the deck with a satisfying—face first—thud. He racked back and fired a fist into the throat of the eighth victim.
“Lee,” the Commander croaked, “a little help here!”
Lee snapped around and realized two of the Imperials he left for Aaron and the Lord Commander were quite large. The first one seemed to be trying to pull off Quintus’ head. The other rained fists into Aaron’s face, the latter trying his best to deflect the blows. Lee considered shooting first, but the movement was too great. He ran back, hammered the neck on the one crushing the Lord Commander’s windpipe, grabbed the other, and tossed him down the corridor. When the Imperial staggered to his feet, Lee shot him in both knees.
They reached the first junction and entered the maintenance crawlways. If Lee were a few inches thicker, he wouldn’t have fit. Together they slithered through the maze of engineering maintenance access all the way to the target deck. Lee exited the crawlspace first and faced his enemy. Behind him, Aaron fell out onto the deck. The Commander blew out a breath as he stood side by side with Lee and saw what they were up against.
“By all the known deities in the universe,” Aaron said.
Lee breathed hard. “I know right, Commander? I count damn near twenty of this scum.”
“Is that all you see, Lee?” Aaron said. “What the hell do they feed these guys, Quintus? They’re nearly twice my size!”
“Traitors,” Quintus said, standing to Aaron’s right. “All of you. Cease your resistance and end this now before you seal the Empire on a path of destruction.”
The ranking scum spat. He was larger than two men—all by himself. “It is you, Quintus, who would lead us to destruction. I imagine if your ilk had your way we would be the next United Systems member world.”
Lee smirked. He’d get a good six at least before the scum closed the distance. He had enough bullets for all of them, but reloading was an issue.
“Blast em, Lee,” Aaron said.
Lee aimed low and fired. Definitely going to hit a little higher than knees this time.
“I got seven, Commander!” he said, as the first set was upon them.
“This is no time for cockiness, Lee!” Aaron yelled back, against the crush of bodies slamming into them.
Indeed!
Lee swept his bionic arm across the first group. The poor bastards tried in vain to deflect it, but he smashed the lot of them against the nearside bulkhead. He swept his arm over the opposite way and bowled over another group. A fresh mountain of bodies slammed into him, wielding rifles and some kind of training staff. Something reflected in the corner of his eye.
Whoosh! A sword! One of them has a bloody sword!
The only good news was the swordsman couldn’t deliver wild swinging strikes while the other scum huddled in so tight—I’m really going to hurt this one! A thrust pierced his side. He grabbed the blade and yanked it out and away from the wielder. He swung the hilt at the swordsman, whacking him across the cheek. Then he flicked the sword in the air, caught the hilt, and threw it into the chest of the former swordsman who staggered backwards and fell.
Four of them forced him to the deck, knocking the pistol from his grip and it fell among the pile of broken bodies already littering the deck. He slammed a bionic fist into the ribs of the nearest grappler, grabbed the neck of another, and tossed him away. He shoved the other three into the bulkhead and two more goons standing over him slapped something onto his arm, then he heard a buzz and a jolt of pain reached his neck.
He lost control of the bionic limb. Now the Imperials beat him about his body, seeming intent on bludgeoning him to death. A feral cry erupted above and the crushing weight on him shifted. He forced his head up to see Quintus and Aaron had leapt into the melee together, pushing the entire group away from him. He groaned and rolled over, but another Imperial was on him striking him in the back with a rifle. Lee grimaced hard, waiting for another strike.
Nothing.
He craned his neck and saw a sword protruding from the man’s chest. The impaled Imperial crumpled to the deck and Aaron stood behind. One of the Commander’s eyes swollen shut, and his face a mess of blood. Quintus lay on the deck not moving. There was a brief respite as the injured but combat able Imperials crawled to their feet, and Aaron helped him up.
“Define irony, Lee,” Aaron said, gasping for air.
Lee laughed. “Two United Fleet starship officers, fighting to the death in hand to hand combat, in a boarding action on an Imperial warship—to save Imperials.”
“I knew of all people it wouldn’t be lost on you.”
Five Imperials staggered toward them from either side. Lee and Aaron stood back to back. Willpower could only do so much. The blood loss from the wound in Lee’s side took its toll. He resolved to get one more of the bastards before they took him. The Imperials facing him down froze.