BLAAMMMM!
Oxade fired a shot at the communications desk. Its panels and wiry guts burst out from the wall in a haze of electric sparks. Manuel’s holographic book form began to fizzle away as a result of the explosion, “I’m hit.”
Nutrene fired a shot at Tripp.
“Get down,” Jaycee jumped on his back and pushed him to the ground. The bullet flew out of her Rez-9 and whizzed past Tripp’s head, slicing several strands of his hair away from his head.
Jaycee hit the deck with Tripp. He lifted his gun at Oxade and fired a shot.
KER-SPLATCH!
The bullet penetrated the side of Oxade’s left shin, pushing him to the ground.
Nutrene buried her gun in Jaycee’s face and winked at him, “Nighty-night, big boy.”
“Arrrgghhhh.”
THRA-AA-TT-A-TT!
Jaycee closed his eyes and felt a splatter of liquid hit his face. No pain followed, much to his amazement.
He opened his eyes to see Alex had shot her in the shoulder.
“Huh?”
He kicked Nutrene onto the floor and offered Jaycee his hand, “Get up.”
“Huh?”
Jaycee grabbed his hand and climbed to his feet. Alex turned his gun to Poz and Neg, “You two battery bunnies stay right where you are.”
Oxade and Nutrene rolled around on the floor. They clutched at their injuries and screamed blue murder.
“You bastard,” Oxade climbed to his feet and went for his D-REZ a few feet away from him.
“Ahh, da-da-da,” Alex moved with him and rammed the barrel of his firearm into his head, “Hey, scumbag. Make a move and I’ll re-carpet this place with your brain matter.”
Oxade thumped the floor in anger, “Alex? What do you think you’re doing?”
“Stay there,” Alex stepped back and grabbed Tripp’s hand, “Don’t move, so help me God I’ll split your skull open with a bullet.”
“Alex?” Oxade gasped and lifted himself up by the communications panel, “You traitor.”
“You shut up,” he yelled back, much to the amazement of Tripp and Jaycee, “You wanna talk about being a traitor?”
Oxade spluttered and removed his glove. He felt the bleeding wound on his shin and pressed the sole of his foot to the floor, “USARIC will find you. They’ll execute you.”
“I’m counting on it. Now stay there.”
“Who are you?” Tripp asked, not quite sure where to point his Rez-9.
“Alex Hughes. I’ll explain later. Let’s get off this ship.”
“Good luck, traitor,” Poz rolled toward Alex and threatened to make contact, “You’ll never escape the blast. Come here for a killing.”
Alex pushed Tripp and Jaycee toward the door, “Get back. Don’t let it touch you.”
“It?” Poz barreled forward, “That’s a bit rude, isn’t it? I’m quite clearly a he.”
THRAAAAATTT!
Alex fired into the middle of Poz’s body, pushing him back. The bullets absorbed into his body, leaving behind an array of minuscule dents.
Poz spun around and rolled into Neg. His body began to absorb into her.
“Hey, you can’t do that,” Neg complained.
“How long till detonation?” Alex asked. “How long?”
“Ten Earth minutes,” Poz beeped with joy, “We’re all going to die. We’re all going to die.”
Alex turned to Tripp and Jaycee, “Where’s Anderson?”
Tripp shook his head, “She’s, uh… I d-don’t know?”
“Does she have Viddy Media?”
“Viddy-what?” Jaycee asked.
Alex rolled up his outer-suit sleeve and showed them his black ink, “Viddy Media.”
“Is that what they’re calling it now?” Tripp blurted. “No, she never had it installed.”
“Damn,” Alex thought on his feet and swung his D-REZ at Oxade and Nutrene, threatening to blow them to pieces, “Listen, get on Charlie.”
“We have no outer-suits left,” Jaycee said.
“Doesn’t matter. Use the bridge. Don’t look at anything, just run. I’ll take care of these scumbags.”
“Ten minutes? We’ll never make it out alive.”
“Well, it’s either that or we definitely die,” Alex huffed in haste, “Wanna give it a go?”
“Okay, we’ll go,” Jaycee said. “And, thanks.”
“Yeah, we’ll open up a tea shop together later,” Alex quipped, “Now, go.”
Tripp and Jaycee ran out of the control deck and made their way to the primary airlock.
Alex leaned against the door frame and lowered his gun. He surveyed the battered room and smiled at his Captain, “Hey, Oxade.”
“Leave me alone, you treacherous little runt,” he slumped into the splattered swivel chair. Resigned to an early death, he leaned back and hung his arms down by his side, “If you’re going to kill us, just do it already.”
Nutrene rolled around on the floor and clutched her arm. Her cries of anguish didn’t stop the conversation between the two men.
“Oh, I will.”
“Just tell me one thing, Hughes,” Oxade said. “How did—Hey, Nutrene, can you stop your screaming, woman?”
“He shot me in the d-damn shoulder.”
A smart bomb grenade tumbled across the ground and knocked the side her hand.
“I don’t care. Just quit your whining, I can’t hear myself hear myself,” Oxade yelped.
“You were saying?” Alex asked.
“Yeah. H-How did you get in? To USARIC?”
“It’s a long story, my friend,” Alex stepped over to Nutrene and snatched the smart bomb from her clutches, “Give me that.”
“Ugghhh, and to think I had the hots for you.”
“In your dreams, grandma,” Alex snorted and returned to the door. He set the grenade down by the wall in the corridor.
“PAAC?” Oxade asked. “You’re part of that stupid animal cruelty pack of inbred imbeciles?”
“Nah, they’re long gone, now. We’re a new breed, I guess you could say.”
“Like a revolution?”
“More like an evolution,” Alex snorted through his mask, “A plan five years in the making. If you thought USARIC were ruthless killers, you should check us out.”
Oxade shook his head. “Why, Alex? Why all this?”
Alex stepped out through the door and gripped the frame in his hand, “Because USARIC is a hell-sucking, mega-conglomerate behemoth that needs taking down. We can’t have whatever Opera Beta and Anderson discovered falling into their hands, now. Can we?”
“You’re so dead.”
Alex gripped the door and pulled it across it slider, “You first.”
SCHLAMMM!
He took several steps back and aimed his D-REZ at the panel.
THRAATATATT-SCH-PACKKK!
He fired a semi-automatic burst of bullets at the panel, shutting the door down and sealing the bad guys in.
Alex’s parting shot – a swift flip of the bird through the window – provided the icing on the cake.
Alex sprinted along the gantry and looked for the staircase. He lifted his left forearm to his face and pressed the ink on his skin to his wrist, “Tripp? This is Alex, do you read me?”
Tripp’s voice came from his wrist, “Yes, I read you. We’re at the Primary Airlock, now. We, uh, found something.”
“What?”
“Get down here, quick. We’re going to need your help.”
“I’m on my way…” he cut the connection off and ran into the depths of the walkway.
The smart bomb outside the control deck remained perfectly still – for a few seconds.
Then, it came to life and shifted around.