Loyalty: Old Mans Comeback Book 5, page 8
Movement caught his attention to the left. Torma took cover, leaning to look. Someone bashed something metal. Another man shouted, “Back off from it! I’ve got the torch ready.”
“Is it working?” A higher pitched voice asked. “Because if I can open this panel…”
“Just shut up.” The first one grunted. A loud hiss took over, drowning them out.
They had yet to breach the ship. That was a good sign. Torma wondered how many might be down there. He doubted only two attempted to breach. The why bothered him though. What was the point of taking the freighter? They must have had an escape route planned.
The Mahshi couldn’t have known they were going to visit. Unless someone betrayed them. Then they might have banked on an available ship. Either way, it wouldn’t matter when he secured it.
Torma moved down the hall, keeping his weapon at the ready. A slight turn brought him around toward the outer airlock. Four men appeared to be inside. They left the door leading into the station open, which probably caused complications with getting into the freighter.
Safety protocols would’ve stopped them even if Frenz hadn’t done something on his end. Cutting through seemed not only reckless, but stupid. They should’ve tried to override it, hack into the freighter’s computer.
The Hostel didn’t have the most secure computer equipment.
Torma’s heart raced as a tingle of doubt struck him. The enemy happened to be in a confined space. Even so, only one of them had to get a shot off, a good blast ended the fight. The numeric advantage put him on edge, and he didn’t have good line of sight on them yet. Not for a kill shot at least.
A few shoulders… then someone stepped in front of the doorway. Torma fired, blasting them in the center of the back. They stumbled forward, slamming into the person operating the torch. A scream erupted from the area, one accompanied by a wet gurgling.
The resulting commotion brought out a couple stray shots, each going too far to the left and right respectively. They had cover, and they didn’t bother to aim. What were they even shooting at? Torma doubted they knew. He slowed, taking a knee while maintaining his aim.
Someone had to get a look eventually. And then a head appeared. Torma’s finger twitched, sending a beam that seared their skull, but didn’t score a direct hit. They screamed, disappearing back around the corner. While they continued to wail, he shuffled to the left.
A shot slammed into the area where he’d just been. Sparks popped from the impact point, leaving behind a black splash. Torma continued forward until he saw a man’s leg bent at the knee. He fired three times, all three striking home.
The person slumped to the side, exposing their head. Torma took them down, then threw himself at the opening. The other person leaned out, and he made contact. Each of them stumbled through, slipping on something slick.
The confined space kept them close, even as they landed in a soft mound. Torma struggled to get his weapon aimed, while managing to grab his opponent’s pistol hand. They each fired, guns discharging into the deck. The Mahshi cried out, shouting while trying to gain the advantage.
Torma found himself on the bottom. He pivoted his hips, urging his opponent into the soft mound. As the man’s face made contact with it, he began to scream. Pure panic kicked in, driving him to a wild frenzy. As he kicked and screamed, his thrashing dislodged them from one another.
The wide eyes made him look totally insane. Torma noted the Mahshi dropped his pistol. He disengaged, falling backward until he pressed his back against the opposite wall. As his opponent managed to dislodge himself from the floor, he turned to dive at him.
Torma fired a blast into the man’s chest.
It didn’t stop him. He continued forward, screaming as he went for Torma’s throat.
Another two shots finally dropped him to his side, huffing three times before expiring. Blood covered his face, along with chunks of something else. Torma lowered his weapon, then turned his attention to the ‘mound.’
A cutting torch seemed to be lodged in the person’s face. Most of the chest and neck had been melted, turning the body soft. They’d fought on him, obliterating much of the corpse. The other Mahshi plunged into it, caving in the torso with his own head.
Torma shivered while taking his feet. He moved over to the panel beside the outer door. “Frenz…” He slammed the button. “Hey, do you read me?”
“Torma?” Frenz shouted. “I thought you were dead!”
“Yeah, I feel like it.” Torma leaned against the wall. The cool metal felt good against his face. “Are you okay in there?”
“I’m fine,” Frenz said. “Well, mostly. I still can’t get the ship free from the station and we’re moving so—”
“The others are working on that,” Torma interrupted. “I cleared the hallway. Four guys are down. Once Bolst gets to the admin area, we can free the ship and hopefully stop the station.”
“Yeah, cause I’m not keen on dying like this. You gotta get this ship free. And you’d better be quick getting back here because if this station hits the planet, then we’re going to—”
“Settle down,” Torma said. “Everyone’s getting out of here alive. And I won’t let the settlement die. That’s your number one priority. Whether or not we make it out of here…” He sighed. “That’s a distant second. Think about all those people counting on us. Even if they don’t know it yet.”
“I… I guess you’re right. But this wasn’t supposed to be a suicide mission!”
“If you were on the surface right now, do you think there’s somewhere you’d be safe?” Torma shoved away from the wall. “Listen, I gotta figure out how to remove the lockdown out here. See if I can’t get through the door. Come down to this area to help. There might be something you can do on your end.”
“I can unlock the door,” Frenz said. “I think. I put the ship into emergency security mode.”
“Good. Do that.” Torma started dragging the bodies out of the airlock. He didn’t want to mess with the gooey one. He figured it might be something he could hold off on. At least until it solidified some. If that was possible. The notion made him queasy.
“Hey! I forgot to mention. Sorsha got ahold of me. But then she went silent.”
“What did she say?”
“She asked me to reach out to the admin,” Frenz said. “Try to buy some time. Even if I had to talk to the Mahshi.”
“Did you?”
“Yes, but no response. Then she wouldn’t respond either. I have no idea what’s going on out there. It can’t be good.”
“Likely not.” Torma shook his head. “Anyway, it won’t matter. Get ahold of those people ASAP. We’ll make this happen as fast as we can.” He continued his effort to remove the corpses. “I hope Bolst has as good of luck as I do dislodging what’s left of the Mahshi. Or none of this will matter.”
***
The Space Station heading toward the Hostel
Bolst Losley
The corridor swept around in a semicircle. Bolst led the way. There weren’t enough turns to matter. They’d get to their destination eventually. Would they even be able to get inside though? He had his doubts.
“Can you get us through any security they’ve got going on?” Bolst glanced back at Ergar. The man seemed to be drifting. He blinked several times. “Did you hear me?”
“Yes.” Ergar shrugged. “I have no idea though. I’m not some kind of criminal. I don’t breach security. I just get through doors.”
“Admin access.” Bolst rolled his eyes. “I assume you have it throughout the station. So can you get through the door with that or not?”
“Oh.” Ergar nodded. “Yes, that won’t be a problem. Once we arrive, I can login to the computer, and—”
“I don’t need to know how unless you plan to give me the password. Even with it, I won’t have a clue about what to do if something doesn’t go right. So plan to stay alive long enough to get us in that room.”
“That implies—”
“Nothing,” Bolst snapped. “Just stay focused on the assignment, and we’ll get through this.” He expected to encounter some resistance before they got to the admin area. Especially when he heard gunfire break out behind them. Torma engaged. Whether or not he succeeded, they’d know soon enough.
When the enemy came tearing through the halls to catch up with him and Ergar. Which led to another dilemma. They had to worry about both directions until they had some kind of confirmation about what happened.
“Torma’s good,” Bolst muttered. “He’s not going down to some Mahshi thugs.”
“Sorry?” Ergar nudged him. “I didn’t hear you.”
“I was talking to myself.” Bolst waved his hand. “How much farther?”
“Just around that bend we’ll be at the door.” Ergar grabbed hold of Bolst’s shoulder. “Do you think there will be guards waiting for us?”
“Inside, most definitely. Outside… I have no clue. I guess it depends on what they’re hoping to achieve.” Bolst jabbed his thumb over his shoulder. “Torma might have secured the ship. If so, then the guys in here might be feeling a little desperate. I have no clue what they hoped to achieve.”
“Destruction,” Ergar replied. “They might have killed the crew of the station as well.”
“Then why leave you alive?” Bolst asked. “Or us?”
“I… can’t say.”
Bolst nodded. “Time to find out.” He pushed on, slowing as he heard a door open. “Now!” he rasped, darting forward.
Two Mahshi soldiers stepped out of the admin. As Bolst charged them, they recoiled with wide eyes, fumbling to get their weapons aimed.
Bolst shot each in the head before charging directly into the room. Ergar began screaming behind him, though he didn’t seem to be getting any closer. Which was probably for the best.
The admin center proved much bigger than anticipated. A dozen terminals circled the area with a large window providing a view of deep space opposite the door. Several people wore gray jumpsuits. None of them were armed. When Bolst burst in, they dropped to the ground, leaving only five Mahshi.
The soldiers stood at different positions around the room, but on the opposite side of a large terminal roughly in the center of the room. As they opened fire, Bolst dove forward to take cover. He crawled to the edge, leaning out to blast one of his targets in the abdomen.
The others moved, coming closer to his position. Bolst remained low, shuffling to keep the terminal between him, but he knew he didn’t have a lot of chance against four armed men. They’d have him once they flanked around.
Someone shouted. A scuffle broke out. The shooting stopped and shifted direction.
Bolst stood, blasting one of the Mahshi standing alone. Another struggled with three of the station staff. The weapon discharged several times, blasting terminals and the ceiling. There were two more, one trying to save the others and the other darting for cover.
A shock of searing pain rushed through Bolst’s left leg. He took a grazing shot to the meat of his thigh, he shifted his weight, then leaned against the terminal to rapid fire at his attacker.
The man stumbled against the wall, blood oozing from his mouth before he collapsed.
The final Mahshi took a severe beating as one of the station staff stomped his head several times. Bolst figured the man probably died after the fourth one, but he didn’t have the energy to argue with their zeal. He risked walking, limping from the injury. It wasn’t as bad as it could’ve been.
Ergar came stumbling in, still screaming. He went silent as he observed the carnage, then turned to his people. “There are some of you… they’re… you’re safe.”
“Barely,” a man stepped forward. “Who’s this guy?” He pointed at Bolst.
Ergar replied, “The Mahshi captured him and one of the security people from the surface. They were here for… I don’t remember why. We’ve been a little stressed. Um… Grezha, this is Bolst. Bolst, that’s our station leader Grezha.”
“Charmed,” Bolst muttered. “This station’s rushing toward the surface. What can we do about it?”
“We’ll try to stop it.” Grezha turned to the terminals. “The fighting took some of our controls out. Are the Mahshi dead throughout the station?”
Bolst shrugged. “You tell me. I’d recommend a scan, myself. But do what you want.”
“Right.” Grezha gave some orders to get the place under control. People took up positions, each complaining about something being broken. “Ergar, I need you to take a look. Then you’ll have to get down to the reactor so we can find a way to reverse the thrusters and stabilize the station.”
“Understood.” Ergar got to work.
“I’m going to check on my friend,” Bolst said. “You guys got it here?”
“We’re locking the door,” Grezha replied, “until we can scan the station and know that we’re safe, I’m not taking any chances.”
“Sounds like a plan.” Bolst limped to the door. He paused. “You have the ability to speak through an intercom or something?”
“Yes…”
“Let me know if there are more of the Mahshi then. As soon as possible.” Bolst continued moving into the hallway. He started back toward the ship. If Torma succeeded, then the place should’ve been purged. If not… then he was stumbling his way into another serious fight.
One he didn’t have the capacity to win. But that didn’t matter so much as getting to Torma, securing the ship, and ensuring they had a way to get out of there should the station need to be destroyed.
Bolst hoped that Grezha had what it took to make a tough call. If he didn’t, if he waited too long to pull the proverbial trigger, the Hostel would suffer. Along with a whole lot of unsuspecting people.
Chapter 13
The Hostel
Raymond “Flip” Kinnely
The Hostel stairs led to a set of doors that sat wide open. Flip didn’t see any Mahshi outside, though there seemed to be movement inside. He looked back the way he came. Shouts echoed through the streets, competing with gunfire and bestial grunts.
Eth’s creatures made short work of their opponents. Combined with the robots, the Hostel would be back under The Concierge’s control soon. Flip knew he needed to get his hands on Harl to finish it though. And that meant going inside.
The fact the Mahshi commander fled back to the Lobby suggested desperation. Then the attack on the landing pads happened, which led him to believe Gia may have taken it upon herself to ground the enemy forces. But why bother? If they tried to launch, they would’ve been easier targets.
Multiple units might’ve been taken out in one go.
“Gia? Sorsha?” Flip tapped his foot in anticipation. He wanted word from them, to find out how they were doing.
“Flip!” Sorsha’s voice came through layers of static. Even so, hearing her gave him some hope. “We’ve got a lot of trouble here!”
“Like what?” Flip asked. “What’s going on?”
“They had… shot… and then…” Much of the message was lost. Flip gave her another moment. “We’re almost powered up.”
“What? What happened again?”
“No time,” Sorsha replied, “the station is on a collision course with the Hostel! We’re trying to stop it… but I’m not sure what we’re going to do with the warship. Give us a moment. We’ll contact you back soon.”
The interference faded as she dropped the line.
“No!” Flip grunted. “Damn it!” He thought about trying her again, but he refrained. Getting into the Lobby, finding Kesta, and taking down Harl… those were his priorities. Whatever happened overhead, he could worry about after securing the settlement. Which wouldn’t take too much longer.
Robot forces moved down the street toward him. Their directives said they should make their way to the Hostel as soon as they nullified enemy resistance. The cloned Dralka beasts would sweep through to take care of the rest of the Mahshi forces that lingered on the fringe.
Which meant Flip had reliable backup on the way. He sprinted from his position, taking the stairs two at a time while fading toward the left side of the door. A single shot rang out, flickering and flying down the street.
At least one of the Mahshi occupied the area, though he swore he saw a decent cadre of people moving about. Flip shuffled closer, dropping low to take a knee. Breaching the area when the people were ready for someone felt wrong. If not for his shields, he might’ve looked for an alternative way in.
Timing didn’t allow for caution. Harl had the potential to kill Kesta, which would be tantamount to sending the Hostel into a death spiral. Or at least considerable chaos. These thoughts drove him to take a chance, to lean around the corner to see if he could at least count the combatants.
