Neo Chronicles: Black Void
Episode 33: The Plan's Still the Same
Table of Contents
I duck down, crouch, an' pull my arms an' legs in to cover the rest of my body. Think I've finally reached my limit here. Their weapons're too much for me. Little pieces of fire, bolts, shells, an' bullets comin' from every which way. I'm holdin' out for now, takin' as much punishment as I can bear. But in like the next two minutes, I'mma be out.
I see the smoke kick up around me from where the stray shots are missing. A few of the blasts end up plowin' through the floor. Those that don't – well, you can imagine.
I'm startin' to smell blood. The shots are finally piercin' through my skin. Dang, I can't even remember the last time I been cut. Haven't so much as had a paper cut since my ST developed. When was that? Seventh? Eighth grade? That was four years ago.
Then it feels like my insides are bein' sucked outside. The feeling jus' lasts a short moment. Hardly longer than a second, but when it stops, the pain stops. I'm not gettin' bombarded with bullets anymore. I open my eyes, an' find that I'm in a hallway, now.
“Hey ese, where you been? I been lookin' all over for you!”
Carlos. Carlos Kenton Ford. That staakin' punk! Where have I been? Where have I been? If I had the strength to form words – Is that my sword? Is this punk holdin' onto my sword? Give it back!
I grumble an' moan. Some words that aren't entirely English fall from my mouth, but me motioning for the weapon is enough for Carlos to catch on.
“I thought this was yours,” he says handing it off to me. “That thing's really something. Works great as a shield. An' when I was holdin' it, it was like I was in overdrive.”
As soon as I grab hold of the hilt, I see an' feel the sword pulsate. Then I feel a vibration. Subtle, but definitely noticeable. It starts from the hilt, trembles a lil' bit in my palm, an' carries its way all up my arm.
“My cuts healed faster, my mind was movin' faster,” Carlos continues.
I feel a tinglin' on my forearm. Like somethin's movin'. Is that—eww—my skin? All that blood that's comin' off darkens. Then it hardens, scabs. Lines of scabs all over my arm where dem bullets an' burns managed to break skin. Then my skin starts to feel like its burnin'. I see it look red an' tender. The burnin' quickly goes away, but now alla sudden, it feels itchy.
“My stamina was like it's never been.” Carlos still talkin'? I'm hardly hearin' a word. I don't care what dude has t'say.
I see the same—would you call it a transformation?—along my chest, along my legs, along my other arm. Everywhere I got hit, it jus' – I'm healing. Yeah, that's what this is, I'm healing.
I look at the back of my otha arm. The itchiness is there, too. I start scratchin'. Don't mean to, but it's like a reflex, y'know? The scabs fall off easily. They're brittle, like they've been there for weeks and were ready to fall off anyway. Underneath, my skin's like new. Maybe a lil' discoloration—a darker brown than the rest of the light brown—but all an' all, I'm healed.
“Where in the 'verse did you find yourself a piece a' tech like that?” I finally catch the last bit of Carlos's talk.
After lookin' myself over, I shrug my shoulders an' say, “I dunno – oh wait. Ri'lar. You remember Ri'lar. Found this on his ship. 'Spose to take in energy an' redirect it.” I look over the blade from end to end. “Far as I can tell, if you're holdin' it, any energy it's got stored up gets passed on t'you.”
“Then I guess you better hold on to it.”
The hall quakes. There's a loud explosion that comes from down the way.
Carlos turns to it. “So this isn't exactly what we had planned.” He takes a few steps towards the direction. “But the plan's still the same.”
“You good for it?”
“Yeah, I should be. It might take me three or four ports, but we should be close enough for us to get planet-side.” He looks me up an' down. “You might need another suit.”
I look myself over. The entire upper half's been disintegrated. I'm practically bare-backed. Only thing coverin' me is my newly formed scars an' what's left of the shredded leggings.
“If your bare skin hits the black, that'll be it for you. I might as well be goin' on my own.”
“Well, look atchu.” I point out. Carlos looks like he's been in a fight, too. The clothes he was wearin' over his suit before are all gone, an' as for the suit itself, I see a few holes on his shoulders, around his abdomen, an' across his shin. Dude's not as in bad shape as me, but still.
“Alright, we'll both need to change,” he says. “But as soon as we do that, we're out, ese. Ya feel me?”
The thought excites me. I smile an' nod. Then we both head down the hall.
Our footsteps echo throughout. The heavy tapping against big open way. The thought of bein' safe an' playin' it sneaky comes to mind, but I guess Carlos isn't too worried about that.
We're comin' up on an intersection. Can already hear the screams an' cries of battle takin' place. Carlos looks back at me. “I'm goin' off ahead. Don't get killed, I'll be back soon,” he says.
“Should we be splittin' up?” I question.
“Probably not, but this is faster.”
I turn my nose up at the notion, an' roll my eyes. “Fine, but that 'no dyin' thing goes both ways.”
“Don't worry,” he says. Then he disappears right in front of me.
I make it to the hall intersection an' see chaos in every direction.
Kal-Artang's yeti-lookin' tail is stampedin' through a wall of soldiers who're unleashin' all manner of unholy Hell his way. The rapid-fire bullets an' lasers cut through his flesh an' white fur. I smell the singein' all the way from here. Still, he charges on. His cries are as loud an' soul shatterin' as a man takin' his last breath, but he still charges on.
With both his musculary arms outstretched, he runs in an' rams at least four or five of 'em by the neck in a lariat type fashion. But in spite of how many he takes down, there's still a small army down the hall jus' waitin' for him.
Then they start firin' the pulse blasts. The electrical blast makes all his white hairs, from head to toe, stand on end. His cry starts out muffled, like he's tryna hold in the pain, but it eventually escapes his maw. Dude falls to his knees. One shot is all it takes. They got him, an' they got him good.
But they don't care. They wanna make sure he's down. I hear the two people holdin' the blaster get ready to fire another. I know that whirrin' sound all too well. This next shot will kill him.
I'm not about t'let that happen, doe.
I run as fast as I can in his direction, steppin' an' hoppin' over the bodies that litter the way. An' I make my way right in between him an' the soldiers. The blast is fired, an' I hold up my sword. Both hands on the hilt, I pull it back over my head, then swing it down.
The sharp end of the blade an' the blast collide. The blast's electrical cackling is wild an' rampant. The blade lights up on the edges an' then it lights up in the center. The blast splits in two halves as it tries to pass through, but it doesn't escape the blade's pull.
Each half is sucked in to the center of the blade. There's a massive light show that happens as it does. Almost blinding. When the lights fade, nothin' but the smoke an' dust kicked up remains of the drastic reaction. I still stand, Kal-Artang still kneels behind me, an' the soldiers continue to watch from down the hall.
I look down at Kal-Artang. He's in bad shape. I want to help him up, carry him to a safe corner of the ship, tend to him. You know, do the humane thing. But I'm kinda still jus' waitin' on Carlos to return. I got no love for Kal or any of these pirates, really.
But they still people.
An' I'm still human.
So I lend out a helpin' hand. Kal looks up, grittin' his teeth, wincin' in pain. Smoke emanatin' from his being. Seein' him struggle as he does makes me think he ain't got the energy to take my hand. So without thinkin', I pull up his arm an' have him grab hold of the hilt of my sword.
Then the sword gets to work.
It's like magic, really. The blade lights up, pulsates, an' in a matter of moments, Kal-Artang is back on his feet. He's not completely healed. His cuts an' scrapes were a lot deeper than mine were, but at least he's functional.
Next thing I know, my back's bein' lit up. Like a thousand tiny darts bombarded against it. I'm bein' shot at with another one of dem Gatlin's. Hasn't gotten to the point that it breaks skin, but I'm not lookin' to wait around til it does.
So I take my sword back, turn around, an' charge forward. My blade's the main thing comin' in contact with the bullets now. The sound of the ricochetin' shells bouncin' from the blade, off the walls, an' to the floor is deafenin'. Me gettin' closer to the solders is even more deafenin'.
I ram my shoulder into one of 'em. Dude plops to the floor. Another dude bum rushes me from behind. My face spats against a wall. I turn over an' duck the dude across his shiny, white helmet. I hear the smacking sound of his head smashing against the inside of it. Know for a fact that dude is concussed.
Other dude runs up, wieldin' a sword with a plasma blade. It makes a low, steady whompin' sound as he swings it. I raise my sword an' block his strike. On impact, I hear this electrical buzzing noise. Then my sword lights up, while his dims down. Ha ha, it's absorbin' the energy. Soon as the light from his sword gives out, I shove him to the side.
An' then, burstin' in from the floor, one of them mechs appears. It wastes no time. Doesn't even take a moment to assess his surroundings. It jus' comes in an' starts firin' at everything an' everyone not in a soldier's uniform. Gatlin's tear through bodies like rags. Lasers cut through the metal halls, bringin' down the walls. Missiles collide with – well, the missiles collide with me.
Seems like the majority of the fire is sent my way. With my right arm outstretched in front of me, holdin' the hilt tight in hand, blade flat out in front, coverin' the front of my body, an' my left hand at the other end of the blade, I shield myself from the first assault. Big explosion. Impact scoots me back some. I'm forced to take a knee, but I immediately get back up.
Before the smoke clears, I'm chargin' at the mech. It's sends forth its second wave of fire. I still got my sword out like a full body shield. Closer an' closer I get, the more forceful each impact is. But the sword tanks it all.
Then I turn the sword on its sharp side. Whitish blue light emanates from its being. I feel the light cover me. It's warm. It's intense. It's comforting.
An' with a leaping motion, jus' as I close in on the mech, I swing the sword outwards. End up slicin' straight through the mech's torso. I land a few feet behind him. Musta sliced through its power core, cuz the next thing that happens is an explosion. I turn an' plant my feet so the force doesn't push me back.
I look down at the big hole the mech made when it came burstin' in. Down below, I see another hallway. It's just as ransacked as the one up here. Maybe even more with all the mechs runnin' around.
I take one last look up here. There aren't any more soldiers on this level, anymore, but that won't stop more from showin' up. The pirates that're alive look in rough shape. Some're bleedin' out. Some're missin' arms or legs. Some're dead. I see Kal-Artang approach me.
“We've got to take back control of this ship,” he says.
I look down, behind me, down the hall. Tryna to see who he's talkin' to. When I realize that he's talkin' to me, I take a step back. “Um,” I'm stumblin' over my words. “Okay. Yeah.” I place my hand over my face an' close my eyes. Kal probably thinks I'm fighting for him. I'm not. I'm really not. But I can't exactly say that. Isn't this dude the captain's right hand? If he knew what I was actually tryna do –
I sigh, look up towards him, then ask, “Where is the captain?” If I'm gonna do what I'm gonna do, I guess I should at least make it seem like I'm still on his side. Y'know, at least until I leave. It's the right thing, right?
“I was on the boat with the captain when we were heading to Pnelenix,” Kal starts out. “It was the first one hit. Took us all by surprise. There were many casualties.” He pauses for a moment an' looks down at the mayhem happenin' in the hall below. “The captain among them. After barely escaping, I ported my way back here.” He pounds his fist in his palm, then looks back at me. “We're all we have left. We have to take back this ship!”
What do I say to that? What in the world do I say to that? Crud. I don't say anything. I nod. Instinctive. Reflexive. I don't mean nothin' by it, but it seems like the thing to do.
Kal picks up a Gatlin' that was on the ground, pats my shoulder, an' runs down the hall. I pace in place. Back an' forth. I look up, hopin' an answer'll jus' fall outta the sky. Oddly enough, somethin' else falls outta the sky. Or the ceiling. Or whatever was above the ceiling.
Crashing down next to me is a mech – a broken mech. Its arms're missin'. It's got some wires an' cables exposed. Every single weapon it had attached to it seems to've been ripped off piece by piece. There're claw marks, teeth marks, scratches, an' holes all over it.
Emerging from the broken metallic husk is – “Mera?” She looks broken herself. Open wounds all over her arms an' legs. Bruises about her duck-billed, lizard-like face. Her green, scaly skin barely visible in some places due to the purple, sticky liquid that's painting her. Blood. She looks tow up. To be honest, I don't know how she's standin'.
She turns to me. Snarling with her brows raised. Narrowed eyes. Back all hunched over. Shoulders as bulked out as can be. She sees me step back an' raise my hands up. Then after a second, her features soften. Her shoulders relax. That snarl turns into blank stare. “You?” she asks. Her voice is light.
“Yeah, me.” I put my hands back to my side.
She coughs to clear her throat an' says “I thought you were – ” in her more lower an' masculine tone.
“The day ain't over yet.”
I see her chuckle at that remark.
“So,” I start out, “what do we do now?”
“Well, FenGri is looking into getting control of the ship. The law enforcements have jammed our warping capabilities. Once we find the source, we should be able to leave.”
“Cool, cool.” I say noddin' my head. I have no idea who FenGri is, but it sounds like he knows somethin' bout somethin'. “You know the captain's dead, right?”
“I did not know that.”
“Yeah. Ran into Kal-Artang. Apparently their boat was hit first. Kal barely made it back alive, himself.”
“That's” she pauses, looks down to the ground, then says, “disheartening.”
“Yup. Dude said that we're all that's left. The whole rest of the fleet's been beat.”
“This is starting to sound like our last stand.”
“Pretty much. But hey, comes with the territory, right? Might as well go down swingin'.”
“I'd rather not go down at all.”
I fold my arms, stroke my chin, an' look up. Should I bring her in on this? This pirate life hasn't been all too great, but Mera hasn't really been that bad. She hasn't been that good, either, but still. I look her over. She's panting in between breaths, looking off to the sides, still on alert. “Hey,” I say to her. She looks back my way. “Hol' dis.”
I offer her my sword. She looks it over. From the hilt to the end of the blade pointing down. “I wouldn't want to disarm you,” she says. “I'm fully capable of defending myself.” She holds up her bloodied hands. Sharp, black talons grow from the tips of her slender fingers.
“Oh, I ain't givin' it to you. I'm jus' sayin' hol' it. It'll help heal you.”
She turns away. Then places her right hand on her left shoulder. Her claws extend an' dig in. The purple liquid trails out the tighter she grips. She winces, grits her teeth, but doesn't make a sound.
I stare on in disbelief. She isn't really gonna do what I think she's – oh dear God.
Like a vise, her grip presses down until I hear a crunchin', crackin' sound. Next thing I see, she's literally rippin' her arm out of her socket. Muscles torn an' shredded, bones crushed, blood gushin' out like a fountain. The nastiest thing I done seen all day. “What the – What is your problem?” I exclaim, jerkin' my head away reflexively.
There she stands, holdin' her dismembered arm in hand. I'm lookin' at her like she's crazy. Cuz she is crazy. Seriously. Who rips off they own arm? An' for what? Why? There was no reason whatsoever to do that.
She tosses the limb to the side. In the next moment, somethin' moves from the stub. An' in as gruesome an' ugly a way as can be, somethin' tears its way from the stub. It's a new arm. One that's a brighter green than the one that was there before. Almost looks bigger, too. More full. Healthier, in spite of all the purple its covered in.
I crack a smile an' laugh. Then tell her, “Look, all you had to say was that you can regenerate.”
She tests out the limb functionality of her new arm. Clenchin' an' relaxin' her hand to an' from a fist. Claws extend on retract. She can bend at the elbow. Shoulder seems to work right, too as she does a couple arm circles. “We should find FenGri. Make sure he's still alive, and give him what he needs.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
Episode 33: The Plan's Still the Same
Table of Contents
I duck down, crouch, an' pull my arms an' legs in to cover the rest of my body. Think I've finally reached my limit here. Their weapons're too much for me. Little pieces of fire, bolts, shells, an' bullets comin' from every which way. I'm holdin' out for now, takin' as much punishment as I can bear. But in like the next two minutes, I'mma be out.
I see the smoke kick up around me from where the stray shots are missing. A few of the blasts end up plowin' through the floor. Those that don't – well, you can imagine.
I'm startin' to smell blood. The shots are finally piercin' through my skin. Dang, I can't even remember the last time I been cut. Haven't so much as had a paper cut since my ST developed. When was that? Seventh? Eighth grade? That was four years ago.
Then it feels like my insides are bein' sucked outside. The feeling jus' lasts a short moment. Hardly longer than a second, but when it stops, the pain stops. I'm not gettin' bombarded with bullets anymore. I open my eyes, an' find that I'm in a hallway, now.
“Hey ese, where you been? I been lookin' all over for you!”
Carlos. Carlos Kenton Ford. That staakin' punk! Where have I been? Where have I been? If I had the strength to form words – Is that my sword? Is this punk holdin' onto my sword? Give it back!
I grumble an' moan. Some words that aren't entirely English fall from my mouth, but me motioning for the weapon is enough for Carlos to catch on.
“I thought this was yours,” he says handing it off to me. “That thing's really something. Works great as a shield. An' when I was holdin' it, it was like I was in overdrive.”
As soon as I grab hold of the hilt, I see an' feel the sword pulsate. Then I feel a vibration. Subtle, but definitely noticeable. It starts from the hilt, trembles a lil' bit in my palm, an' carries its way all up my arm.
“My cuts healed faster, my mind was movin' faster,” Carlos continues.
I feel a tinglin' on my forearm. Like somethin's movin'. Is that—eww—my skin? All that blood that's comin' off darkens. Then it hardens, scabs. Lines of scabs all over my arm where dem bullets an' burns managed to break skin. Then my skin starts to feel like its burnin'. I see it look red an' tender. The burnin' quickly goes away, but now alla sudden, it feels itchy.
“My stamina was like it's never been.” Carlos still talkin'? I'm hardly hearin' a word. I don't care what dude has t'say.
I see the same—would you call it a transformation?—along my chest, along my legs, along my other arm. Everywhere I got hit, it jus' – I'm healing. Yeah, that's what this is, I'm healing.
I look at the back of my otha arm. The itchiness is there, too. I start scratchin'. Don't mean to, but it's like a reflex, y'know? The scabs fall off easily. They're brittle, like they've been there for weeks and were ready to fall off anyway. Underneath, my skin's like new. Maybe a lil' discoloration—a darker brown than the rest of the light brown—but all an' all, I'm healed.
“Where in the 'verse did you find yourself a piece a' tech like that?” I finally catch the last bit of Carlos's talk.
After lookin' myself over, I shrug my shoulders an' say, “I dunno – oh wait. Ri'lar. You remember Ri'lar. Found this on his ship. 'Spose to take in energy an' redirect it.” I look over the blade from end to end. “Far as I can tell, if you're holdin' it, any energy it's got stored up gets passed on t'you.”
“Then I guess you better hold on to it.”
The hall quakes. There's a loud explosion that comes from down the way.
Carlos turns to it. “So this isn't exactly what we had planned.” He takes a few steps towards the direction. “But the plan's still the same.”
“You good for it?”
“Yeah, I should be. It might take me three or four ports, but we should be close enough for us to get planet-side.” He looks me up an' down. “You might need another suit.”
I look myself over. The entire upper half's been disintegrated. I'm practically bare-backed. Only thing coverin' me is my newly formed scars an' what's left of the shredded leggings.
“If your bare skin hits the black, that'll be it for you. I might as well be goin' on my own.”
“Well, look atchu.” I point out. Carlos looks like he's been in a fight, too. The clothes he was wearin' over his suit before are all gone, an' as for the suit itself, I see a few holes on his shoulders, around his abdomen, an' across his shin. Dude's not as in bad shape as me, but still.
“Alright, we'll both need to change,” he says. “But as soon as we do that, we're out, ese. Ya feel me?”
The thought excites me. I smile an' nod. Then we both head down the hall.
Our footsteps echo throughout. The heavy tapping against big open way. The thought of bein' safe an' playin' it sneaky comes to mind, but I guess Carlos isn't too worried about that.
We're comin' up on an intersection. Can already hear the screams an' cries of battle takin' place. Carlos looks back at me. “I'm goin' off ahead. Don't get killed, I'll be back soon,” he says.
“Should we be splittin' up?” I question.
“Probably not, but this is faster.”
I turn my nose up at the notion, an' roll my eyes. “Fine, but that 'no dyin' thing goes both ways.”
“Don't worry,” he says. Then he disappears right in front of me.
I make it to the hall intersection an' see chaos in every direction.
Kal-Artang's yeti-lookin' tail is stampedin' through a wall of soldiers who're unleashin' all manner of unholy Hell his way. The rapid-fire bullets an' lasers cut through his flesh an' white fur. I smell the singein' all the way from here. Still, he charges on. His cries are as loud an' soul shatterin' as a man takin' his last breath, but he still charges on.
With both his musculary arms outstretched, he runs in an' rams at least four or five of 'em by the neck in a lariat type fashion. But in spite of how many he takes down, there's still a small army down the hall jus' waitin' for him.
Then they start firin' the pulse blasts. The electrical blast makes all his white hairs, from head to toe, stand on end. His cry starts out muffled, like he's tryna hold in the pain, but it eventually escapes his maw. Dude falls to his knees. One shot is all it takes. They got him, an' they got him good.
But they don't care. They wanna make sure he's down. I hear the two people holdin' the blaster get ready to fire another. I know that whirrin' sound all too well. This next shot will kill him.
I'm not about t'let that happen, doe.
I run as fast as I can in his direction, steppin' an' hoppin' over the bodies that litter the way. An' I make my way right in between him an' the soldiers. The blast is fired, an' I hold up my sword. Both hands on the hilt, I pull it back over my head, then swing it down.
The sharp end of the blade an' the blast collide. The blast's electrical cackling is wild an' rampant. The blade lights up on the edges an' then it lights up in the center. The blast splits in two halves as it tries to pass through, but it doesn't escape the blade's pull.
Each half is sucked in to the center of the blade. There's a massive light show that happens as it does. Almost blinding. When the lights fade, nothin' but the smoke an' dust kicked up remains of the drastic reaction. I still stand, Kal-Artang still kneels behind me, an' the soldiers continue to watch from down the hall.
I look down at Kal-Artang. He's in bad shape. I want to help him up, carry him to a safe corner of the ship, tend to him. You know, do the humane thing. But I'm kinda still jus' waitin' on Carlos to return. I got no love for Kal or any of these pirates, really.
But they still people.
An' I'm still human.
So I lend out a helpin' hand. Kal looks up, grittin' his teeth, wincin' in pain. Smoke emanatin' from his being. Seein' him struggle as he does makes me think he ain't got the energy to take my hand. So without thinkin', I pull up his arm an' have him grab hold of the hilt of my sword.
Then the sword gets to work.
It's like magic, really. The blade lights up, pulsates, an' in a matter of moments, Kal-Artang is back on his feet. He's not completely healed. His cuts an' scrapes were a lot deeper than mine were, but at least he's functional.
Next thing I know, my back's bein' lit up. Like a thousand tiny darts bombarded against it. I'm bein' shot at with another one of dem Gatlin's. Hasn't gotten to the point that it breaks skin, but I'm not lookin' to wait around til it does.
So I take my sword back, turn around, an' charge forward. My blade's the main thing comin' in contact with the bullets now. The sound of the ricochetin' shells bouncin' from the blade, off the walls, an' to the floor is deafenin'. Me gettin' closer to the solders is even more deafenin'.
I ram my shoulder into one of 'em. Dude plops to the floor. Another dude bum rushes me from behind. My face spats against a wall. I turn over an' duck the dude across his shiny, white helmet. I hear the smacking sound of his head smashing against the inside of it. Know for a fact that dude is concussed.
Other dude runs up, wieldin' a sword with a plasma blade. It makes a low, steady whompin' sound as he swings it. I raise my sword an' block his strike. On impact, I hear this electrical buzzing noise. Then my sword lights up, while his dims down. Ha ha, it's absorbin' the energy. Soon as the light from his sword gives out, I shove him to the side.
An' then, burstin' in from the floor, one of them mechs appears. It wastes no time. Doesn't even take a moment to assess his surroundings. It jus' comes in an' starts firin' at everything an' everyone not in a soldier's uniform. Gatlin's tear through bodies like rags. Lasers cut through the metal halls, bringin' down the walls. Missiles collide with – well, the missiles collide with me.
Seems like the majority of the fire is sent my way. With my right arm outstretched in front of me, holdin' the hilt tight in hand, blade flat out in front, coverin' the front of my body, an' my left hand at the other end of the blade, I shield myself from the first assault. Big explosion. Impact scoots me back some. I'm forced to take a knee, but I immediately get back up.
Before the smoke clears, I'm chargin' at the mech. It's sends forth its second wave of fire. I still got my sword out like a full body shield. Closer an' closer I get, the more forceful each impact is. But the sword tanks it all.
Then I turn the sword on its sharp side. Whitish blue light emanates from its being. I feel the light cover me. It's warm. It's intense. It's comforting.
An' with a leaping motion, jus' as I close in on the mech, I swing the sword outwards. End up slicin' straight through the mech's torso. I land a few feet behind him. Musta sliced through its power core, cuz the next thing that happens is an explosion. I turn an' plant my feet so the force doesn't push me back.
I look down at the big hole the mech made when it came burstin' in. Down below, I see another hallway. It's just as ransacked as the one up here. Maybe even more with all the mechs runnin' around.
I take one last look up here. There aren't any more soldiers on this level, anymore, but that won't stop more from showin' up. The pirates that're alive look in rough shape. Some're bleedin' out. Some're missin' arms or legs. Some're dead. I see Kal-Artang approach me.
“We've got to take back control of this ship,” he says.
I look down, behind me, down the hall. Tryna to see who he's talkin' to. When I realize that he's talkin' to me, I take a step back. “Um,” I'm stumblin' over my words. “Okay. Yeah.” I place my hand over my face an' close my eyes. Kal probably thinks I'm fighting for him. I'm not. I'm really not. But I can't exactly say that. Isn't this dude the captain's right hand? If he knew what I was actually tryna do –
I sigh, look up towards him, then ask, “Where is the captain?” If I'm gonna do what I'm gonna do, I guess I should at least make it seem like I'm still on his side. Y'know, at least until I leave. It's the right thing, right?
“I was on the boat with the captain when we were heading to Pnelenix,” Kal starts out. “It was the first one hit. Took us all by surprise. There were many casualties.” He pauses for a moment an' looks down at the mayhem happenin' in the hall below. “The captain among them. After barely escaping, I ported my way back here.” He pounds his fist in his palm, then looks back at me. “We're all we have left. We have to take back this ship!”
What do I say to that? What in the world do I say to that? Crud. I don't say anything. I nod. Instinctive. Reflexive. I don't mean nothin' by it, but it seems like the thing to do.
Kal picks up a Gatlin' that was on the ground, pats my shoulder, an' runs down the hall. I pace in place. Back an' forth. I look up, hopin' an answer'll jus' fall outta the sky. Oddly enough, somethin' else falls outta the sky. Or the ceiling. Or whatever was above the ceiling.
Crashing down next to me is a mech – a broken mech. Its arms're missin'. It's got some wires an' cables exposed. Every single weapon it had attached to it seems to've been ripped off piece by piece. There're claw marks, teeth marks, scratches, an' holes all over it.
Emerging from the broken metallic husk is – “Mera?” She looks broken herself. Open wounds all over her arms an' legs. Bruises about her duck-billed, lizard-like face. Her green, scaly skin barely visible in some places due to the purple, sticky liquid that's painting her. Blood. She looks tow up. To be honest, I don't know how she's standin'.
She turns to me. Snarling with her brows raised. Narrowed eyes. Back all hunched over. Shoulders as bulked out as can be. She sees me step back an' raise my hands up. Then after a second, her features soften. Her shoulders relax. That snarl turns into blank stare. “You?” she asks. Her voice is light.
“Yeah, me.” I put my hands back to my side.
She coughs to clear her throat an' says “I thought you were – ” in her more lower an' masculine tone.
“The day ain't over yet.”
I see her chuckle at that remark.
“So,” I start out, “what do we do now?”
“Well, FenGri is looking into getting control of the ship. The law enforcements have jammed our warping capabilities. Once we find the source, we should be able to leave.”
“Cool, cool.” I say noddin' my head. I have no idea who FenGri is, but it sounds like he knows somethin' bout somethin'. “You know the captain's dead, right?”
“I did not know that.”
“Yeah. Ran into Kal-Artang. Apparently their boat was hit first. Kal barely made it back alive, himself.”
“That's” she pauses, looks down to the ground, then says, “disheartening.”
“Yup. Dude said that we're all that's left. The whole rest of the fleet's been beat.”
“This is starting to sound like our last stand.”
“Pretty much. But hey, comes with the territory, right? Might as well go down swingin'.”
“I'd rather not go down at all.”
I fold my arms, stroke my chin, an' look up. Should I bring her in on this? This pirate life hasn't been all too great, but Mera hasn't really been that bad. She hasn't been that good, either, but still. I look her over. She's panting in between breaths, looking off to the sides, still on alert. “Hey,” I say to her. She looks back my way. “Hol' dis.”
I offer her my sword. She looks it over. From the hilt to the end of the blade pointing down. “I wouldn't want to disarm you,” she says. “I'm fully capable of defending myself.” She holds up her bloodied hands. Sharp, black talons grow from the tips of her slender fingers.
“Oh, I ain't givin' it to you. I'm jus' sayin' hol' it. It'll help heal you.”
She turns away. Then places her right hand on her left shoulder. Her claws extend an' dig in. The purple liquid trails out the tighter she grips. She winces, grits her teeth, but doesn't make a sound.
I stare on in disbelief. She isn't really gonna do what I think she's – oh dear God.
Like a vise, her grip presses down until I hear a crunchin', crackin' sound. Next thing I see, she's literally rippin' her arm out of her socket. Muscles torn an' shredded, bones crushed, blood gushin' out like a fountain. The nastiest thing I done seen all day. “What the – What is your problem?” I exclaim, jerkin' my head away reflexively.
There she stands, holdin' her dismembered arm in hand. I'm lookin' at her like she's crazy. Cuz she is crazy. Seriously. Who rips off they own arm? An' for what? Why? There was no reason whatsoever to do that.
She tosses the limb to the side. In the next moment, somethin' moves from the stub. An' in as gruesome an' ugly a way as can be, somethin' tears its way from the stub. It's a new arm. One that's a brighter green than the one that was there before. Almost looks bigger, too. More full. Healthier, in spite of all the purple its covered in.
I crack a smile an' laugh. Then tell her, “Look, all you had to say was that you can regenerate.”
She tests out the limb functionality of her new arm. Clenchin' an' relaxin' her hand to an' from a fist. Claws extend on retract. She can bend at the elbow. Shoulder seems to work right, too as she does a couple arm circles. “We should find FenGri. Make sure he's still alive, and give him what he needs.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
