Trevor and Nina fell to the hard metal floor and lay still while the crackle and sizzle of frying circuits died. The crew gathered their wits and extinguished a handful of small fires born from the electrical surge.
Jaff issued orders in his language, no doubt calling for damage reports and medics while also urging those still at their stations to get a handle on navigation and defense systems.
After several seconds the chaos of the attack subsided. At that point, Trevor became reasonably sure they would not fall from the sky, at least not yet. He looked to Nina who nodded in silent reply, and then they both rose to their feet.
With the sparks and lightning-like energy weapon dissipated, Trevor could see out the gondola windows again. The creature had taken more definite form: three bulbous heads, each with one eye and a big, toothless mouth. He saw slimy hose-like arms-maybe two dozen of them-but no legs, although he assumed the mound could slither if need be.
Some of those arms held Chaktaw infantry, banging them against the snow until their white camouflaged ponchos changed to blood-red balls. The rest of the arms flailed about hoping to grab the next victim.
The mouths on the heads opened and closed groaning that horrid groan. The rest of its body-if it could be called a body-was a mound of dirty, undulating flesh. Its dark, hideous mass contrasted starkly with the brilliant white snow.
Fromm's infantry fired but their usually powerful and effective magnetic rifles did not appear to damage the best.
Trevor yelled at Jaff, "The main gun! Fire your main gun!"
Jaff did not appreciate the distraction as he coordinated medical attention for the injured crew and repairs to the damaged controls. Nonetheless, he paused and translated Trevor’s words for himself, then gaped at the human in a manner that required no translator.
No shit, asshole. You think I haven’t thought of that?
Major Forest pointed forward and told Trevor what Jaff already knew: "It's been hit."
Trevor saw black burn marks on the weapons array. Wires hung loose from the cannon and sparks flickered.
"Oh."
The bridge crew worked frantically, restoring power and navigation control in two quick minutes. During those two minutes, Fromm’s ground team sent a wave of Behemoths into the mass. They extended their jaws to grasp and pull away flesh, only to be enveloped by the squirming beast; their carcasses pulled, stretched, and broke.
Infantry threw hand grenades and used a rocket launcher. All to no avail. When they aimed for any of the three heads, walls of gory flesh rose like defensive shields to block the shots.
Next, the Golems engaged at close range. Their missiles blew away chunks of the repulsive hulk, but the thing did not appear the least bit bothered.
Two of Fromm’s version of the Steel Guard made ‘suicide’ runs, only to become engulfed, tossed, and then torn into inoperable piles of metal and wires. The remaining robotic sentries stood off and fired explosive shells. Of the weapons thrown against it, those shells made the most impact. Yet they were not enough.
Trevor felt helpless as he watched from above.
"We have to do something! We have to help them!"
Jaff roared, "I know this Trevor Stone! Our main gun is not working!"
"Wait…Jaff…do you have maneuvering power?"
Jaff looked toward one of his technicians and asked a question in the Chaktaw language. Jaff accepted the answer then nodded to Trevor, who asked another question…
…This beast horrified Fromm, as it was certainly one of Voggoth’s children. A spawn not truly alive but not dead, either. An abomination.
Whatever he threw against the beast failed to cause any significant damage, and every attempt to circumvent the thing and drive for the obelisk was blocked by its tentacles.
He knew he possessed two artillery batteries onboard the battleship. He would need to get them to the surface. But even then, the vile monster’s pulsating body seemed capable of protecting the only part of it that appeared vulnerable, the three bulb-like heads.
Fromm, however, did not even know the status of the zeppelin. Obviously, the monster's energy blast had disabled the main gun. Judging from the amount of energy that had enveloped the front half of the battleship, Fromm feared it possible that the entire crew had been killed or the whole vessel disabled, a fear augmented by his failure to communicate with anyone onboard.
Regardless, he would not retreat. He stood on the brink of the greatest victory for his people since the beginning of the invasion. No more hiding; the time had come to strike at his enemies. Not long ago, that meant hitting the Geryons and human cities, but now that strike could prove even greater. Cutting off the gateways…that would be the blow to tip the scales in his favor.
No, he would not retreat. This beast would be slain, or he would die trying. Whatever the result, he would not leave the Ring of Ice without the runes.
As valiant his determination, his confidence faded measure as the monster grew. Its mass actually expanded. Suddenly, several of his men who were out of reach of the writhing tentacles were held in death grips.
Worse, another ball of energy formed in one of the three mouths.
Fromm barked orders.
Two of his shock troops moved forward, each sporting acid-throwers. They took position and opened the hoses of their weapons. The gusting, cold wind at the top of the world turned the streams into wider, less-effective sprays. Still, most of the acid splashed onto the creature and sizzled on its rotten flesh. But before the Chaktaw could celebrate this blow, a new coat of skin grew over the wound.
At that moment, another ball of energy flew from one of the monstrous heads and engulfed the two acid-sprayers. The explosion of electricity triggered an explosion of chemicals. The two soldiers fried and dissolved while the shock wave sent other Chaktaw warriors hurling through the air to bone-crunching halts on the ice-covered ground.
Fromm motioned his troops and Behemoths to fall back. They did so while continuing to spew useless rounds of munitions from their magnetic rifles. Temporary retreat seemed the only course of action in face of the reaching tendrils and impenetrable hide. Fromm needed time to regroup and plan a more effective assault
Then a shadow flew overhead. The shadow of the battleship advancing.
Fromm and his men gaped skyward. The dirigible inched forward under power of its maneuvering thrusters, moving very slow until it hovered over the monster.
Still, Fromm clearly saw that the main gun remained out of action. Yet something moved up there, near the bow. Not so much near the cannon but underneath the main balloon near one of the support struts.
Fromm pulled away his poncho hood and raised a pair of spyglasses to his eyes. Through the magnified view he saw see two people reaching out from an access hatch near a large rectangular compartment. He recognized them as Jaff and Trevor Stone.
Fromm recognized the compartment at the same time that he noticed Jaff handing Trevor first one then another round cartridge.
Fromm shouted and led his men away from the monster a good fifty yards. The beast responded with a roar that suggested it saw victory in the enemy's withdrawal. He then stood and watched as his second-in-command and the human named Trevor executed their plan.
The rectangular compartment opened and one of the zeppelin’s massive metal anchors dropped to the ground like a giant arrow cast from a titan’s bow, its now-disconnected chain falling loose behind. Around that anchor were straps holding in place several cartridges.
Chaktaw artillery cartridges.
The anchor’s strike hit slightly between two of the three heads and the singularities inside the cartridges activated. A cone of destruction blast outward from the middle of the beast. At the center of that cone, two glowing red balls that hated all things made of matter.