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Short Story
Posted By: Jamie<halodevotee@hotmail.com>
Date: 3 August 2002, 3:03 pm
Read/Post Comments
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"Dammit, get up to the escape pods now everyone, we are under attack, I repeat we are under attack!" The screeching voice that emerged from every single speaker on the ship said "I want us to....................fzzt" The speakers went dead, there was no noise except that of the continuous almost never-ending fire of plasma bursts scoring the ships outer hull.
There was a rush of absolute panic as the Legacy was ripped apart, amidst the confusion a small hologram stood and asked in a gentle and soothing voice "Please remain calm and make your way slowly towards the escaped pods". The voice was almost completely drowned out as people fought their way through the crowds towards the higher levels of the ship.
The ship was a relatively small one comprising of only eight decks, four of these decks contained enough pods to safely escort all of the crew to the closest habitable planet, however one of these decks, the lowest one was used primarily for marines to sleep. Of course in each of these rooms there were no speakers because in the event of an accident anyone in the sleeping chambers would be woken up, and would then proceed to walk calmly towards the higher levels of the ship.
The marines were blissfully unaware of the ensuing danger, until one of the chambers was ripped away from the ship into a vast unimaginable emptiness. Immediately the six men awoke, "What the f..."
"There's no time follow me"
The marines already fully aware of the situation they were in gathered their weapons and started to head for the higher decks.
"Why didn't they wake us?" Enquired the anonymous marine
"Be quiet," retorted the second forceful marine "The lifts won't work we'll have to go on foot"
"But I might be able to fix them"
The second marine suddenly stopped he turned around slowly and pulled out his pistol.
"Hey! Look man I'm just trying to help"
The second marine smirked and started to slowly edge the trigger backwards.
"Come on, okay I won't fix it let's go"
The third had beads of sweat developing on his forehead.
"I'm so..."
The other four turned away, but they turned back slowly out of morbid curiosity. The third marine, whose nameplate was lightly coated with blood, read Murdock. The body lay as if it wasn't real, as if it was a dummy; it was folded over on itself almost like it had no bones. Now the second marine had asserted his authority he began to traverse towards the stairs.
"It won't take us long" said the second marine with an air of power.
The marines began to follow their new found leader and soon forgot about Murdock. The stairs were littered with personal possessions which had been tossed about during the second wave of the onslaught. One such item was a photo, it was of a man and a young boy, the photo lay on the stairs like all of the items, only there was the man from the photo lying next to it. The marines ran past with no regard towards the body, they ran like machines, with no feelings.
They had travelled to the sixth deck when they saw the first load. The pod waiting bay was a room full of bodies, bullets lay on the floor, dents of ricocheted bullets in the walls, men clutching knives lying dead, children with glass bottles lay with a desperate look of pain in their eyes, the women lay in corners holding their children, their tears had not yet disappeared. The marines looked around with disgust, but not at the masses of dead, they were looking further, deeper and seeing no pods, so they left in search of more pods.
On the next floor they encountered much of the same. Their sturdy bodies stood and watched and were only shaken by the next wave of plasma bursts, which ruptured the link between the fifth and sixth decks. The marines sprint to the seventh deck to find an escape pod. There are three left. They run in to the closest to find that as they attempt to close the doors the oxygen canisters had been removed. In desperation people had stolen oxygen for themselves it was the same in the next one, canisters ripped from the side, but with an ounce of luck they gear up to flee in the remaining pod. It was only then, when the marines had time, that they felt traumatised, they thought of the number of lives lost, loved ones, from that point on they would have no means of communication with anyone but themselves. Prao, Corden, Dobree, Plachecki and the unmistakable Fitchit had found themselves in a precarious situation. They'd left later than everyone else so when they land everyone will have left to find other survivors, then of course there is an unstoppable alien race hunting them down.
These aliens had never communicated with Earth or any other human colonies, they just co-ordinate attacks on all human or earthbound supplies. No-one knows what they're called but most of the humans call them either 'Bastards' or for the less violent humans the 'Andensum'. ŬIt was a simple name given to them by a group of squaddies who first met them; no-one knows what it means or where it came from.
The Andensum are physically quite weak, they wouldn't be able to stand up wearing all their armour if they didn't have so much bio-engineering inside them.
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