Page 17 of Uncovered By the Alien Commander
“There isn’t time for this,” I protest, storming past the Glaseroid, starting my jog towards the other end of the ship, to face this grotesque, immense bulk of a nightmare that hungers for our flesh.
Another crash almost sends me wheeling backwards as the entire ship vibrates and shudders, the reinforced arcweave groaning under the immense pressure.
Logarn follows close behind, but the image of him charging off the docking hatch into the void of space with murderous glee prompts me to speak. “Logarn, you find Noroth and await further orders.” To my satisfaction, he nods in affirmation as he halts.
Close now, I can hear its slathering maw and whipping writhing limbs lash out against the hull. Equipping my warvisor and activating my arc shield and arc blaster gauntlets as my blood pumps through me like a molten river of boiling plasma. There’s no turning back, only death or glory awaits me now.
Emerging into the cargo hold to behold, the immense gaping slathering chasm filled with row upon row of razor-sharp teeth, each one as long as a spear, its crushing strength capable of rendering arcweave and shattering starships with ease. The docking hatch is open, revealing a precarious view of the void beyond, which looms behind the writing beast. Only the thin barrier of the atmospheric docking shield prevents me from being vented into the merciless vacuum of space.
Wasting no time, I blast bolts of super-heated plasma from my arc blaster and, in my left hand, a barrage from Kaanus’ plasma rifle. The bolts sizzle and distort the very air with the heat of a thousand suns as they crash and melt into the thick plates of chitinous armor that adorn its hide, that shimmers with an eerie iridescence.
The impossible monstrosity vomited from the void roars in pain, spraying drool from its vast maw that freezes into deadly daggers over the area. I dodge the supersonic projectiles leaping behind crates and barrels, that thud and splinter, absorbing the impacts. Despite its wounds, the gigantic creature still latches onto the back of our ship like a bloodsucking monster prepared to die rather than relinquish its victim. Even the immense docking hatch door provides only the merest glimpse of the totality of its colossal body.
The rending and crunching of metal echoes out as the void spawn digs deeper, its maw drawing closer. Leaping out from my cover, I unload another barrage of blue hot steaming death towards the writhing mass as only more molten pain will drive it back into the vacuum of space. The horror must process cunning, as it arrayed sinewy tendrils and twisting limbs within the confines of the cargo hold, whipping and lashing cracks with explosive force.
A thick cord of an iridescent limb hurtles towards me, and in an instant, I turn my arc shield to parry it. Yet still it crashesagainst me with such brutal strength. I’m propelled through the air, Kaanus’ rifle torn from my grasp. But even with my heart pounding and vision blurred, I unleash more plasma blasts from my arc blaster. The blue scorching balls of molten death bury deep inside its flesh, if flesh is what it processes.
Gobs of sinewy iridescent hide sizzle and sloth off its body, pooling into steaming blue piles. Yet to my dismay the maw draws closer, the monster unstoppable. Its blow carries me crashing into the corner, a jarring impact that rips the air from my lungs, but amongst the writhing cracking chaos, a voice like a beautiful whisper catches my attention.
“Xandor.”
I must be passing onto the ancestors, for nothing so soft and delicate could exist here, in this chaotic nightmare made reality.
“Psst, Xandor,” the voice repeats, tinged with frustration.
Would the ancestors be so impatient?
Blinking to clear my vision that swims with bloodshot-induced floaters, a tiny pale hand reaches through a grate, beckoning like a spirit into the netherworld. Recovering my senses with rasping breaths, I crawl over, mindful of the writhing limbs that thrash and crash through the room in random, senseless directions.
Sad green eyes glint in the darkness, buried within the gangway near the entrance. “Tyrxie? What in the void are you doing here?” I shout over the banging and screeching siren that echoes throughout the ship.
“Here.” Tyrxie’s bruised face is wide eyed and full of fear, due to me or the Mutalisk I can only guess. She pushes against a grate, her tiny form straining until I assist, tearing it from its hinges. “Triandale and Mod made me bring this to you,” her voice trembles as she offers a black lightweight gun loaded with canisters of the vials the Glaseroid had displayed earlier.
Reaching for the weapon, Tyrxie recoils. “Gods, female, I’m trying to save you!” I shout, causing her to stiffen as if stuckbefore she nods her head with meekness, pushing the gun towards me. Grasping it, I wrap my hand around the undersized grip, fingering the trigger, ready to unleash... whatever this concoction is.
There’re only a few canisters, so I’ll have to ensure each shot counts. Bolstering myself, the Rush surges within me, the burning rage swirls and gathers around my eyes as the golden mist leaks from my warvisor. Time slows as my muscles swell and my focus increases as I prepare once more to confront this nightmare birthed from the void.
Dashing from my cover, the primitive intelligence of the insatiable hunger has prepared masses of boney limbs and wriggling tentacles that shoot towards me. But this time I’m ready, rushing sideways, just in time, avoiding a mass of iridescent death. But before I can straighten, more comes darting from either side, exploding behind as I roll under them.
Nearing the end of the cargo hold, before the atmospheric force field, the eyeless mass twists and turns, angling more of its cord-like appendages to impale me. Planting my feet, I aim my weapon towards the fleshiest area of the Mutalisk before taking a deep breath; I squeeze the trigger.
Click.
Squeezing again.
Click.
Before I can even curse at the traitorous weapon, a chitinous limb smashes into me, causing my arcweave armor to groan and creak under the titanic impact that crashes me into a wall. Pain lances through my body as the force whips my head back, leaving me almost unconscious. The familiar metallic taste of blood dots my tongue as I attempt to suck air through bruised ribs.
The voiding gun doesn’t work!In a panic, I wrestle a vial of the strange liquid from the canister, clutching it in my handtight. But the cost is high as a writhing tentacle, with its length dotted with sharp bony protrusions, entraps me. It coils tighter and tighter, content to squeeze me to death, causing immense crushing pressure and making me yell out in pain as it forces my armor against me. With a desperate frenzy, I snarl, sinking my fangs into its celestial flesh, tearing chucks out of it.
Devoid of pain, the disgusting offense to nature continues unabated, crushing me as my vision grows darker, unable to breathe, my sinews and bones tremble. With the last of my might, the Rush at its zenith, I strain as my muscles bulge and ripple with teeth clenched; I roar in defiance, pushing and squirming with every drop of strength my ancestors have bestowed upon me.
A minuscule gap opens, a gift, a miracle. Without hesitation, I squeeze my hand through the opening to crush the vial of the strange red liquid into the Mutalisk’s bite wounds. Eliciting a horrific roar that shatters my senses as it writhes and thrashes, it’s obvious pain sweet music to my weary consciousness. Until it tosses me into a wall with incredible speed, like a spent bullet. My mind bursts with agony, my vision darkening.
An abyss of nothingness beckons.
Chapter 8