A Space Odyssey Chapter 9

Author's note: After reviving the Yolandan Mazzy Fentan, the crew of the Gorion find themselves pinned down by the reanimated security guards of the detention center. Both Imoen and Valygar felt the wrath of their surprise attack. Our story continues.... now!

Disclaimers: Bad jokes, some violence

 
The vehemence of the Yolandan’s screams left Jaheira completely taken aback. Crouched in silent shock, the Yolandan’s desperate struggles to break free wrenched her free of her momentary stupor. With all the considerable authority she could muster, she slammed the hysteric Fentan back down to the deck and bellowed, “Get a hold of yourself woman! Stop screaming and make sense…” The unmistakable sounds of weapons fire drowned out the rest of Jaheira’s words.

“Answers will wait.” Leaping to her feet, she grabbed her dual barrel blaster and ordered, “Doctor, stay with her. I’m going to find out what the hell is going on.”

The doctor barely had time to nod in agreement before Jaheira raced out through the open cell door. Her armored boots screeching against the deck plating as she turned towards the action, she saw Valygar collapse under a barrage of blaster fire. Horrified, she watched as Bran started to leave his defensive crouch to rush to the side of his fallen friend, regardless of the lethal, withering fire pouring down the corridor. She shouted for him to stop, but to no avail. And there was no way she could reach him in time.

Luckily Minsc could. The big man reached out and wrapped up the captain in both heavily armored arms. The two men struggled mightily, servos whining as the two strength enhanced combat suits warred against each other. For an eternal moment, it seemed as it Bran would break free of the larger man’s grip as Minsc’s hold began to slip. Then, with a terrific twist, Minsc lifted Bran, suit and all, off the deck and slammed him against the near wall. Bran struggled against Minsc’s powerful hold, but Minsc’s suit was stronger, as was the man inside, and he managed to wrestle Bran back.

Racing to where Minsc had Bran pinned against the wall, Jaheira flipped to the common channel and screamed, “What in the name of Silvanus is going on here!! Who’s firing on us?”

Bran’s head snapped around from the corridor to look at Jaheira. A mixture of shock, pain and rage roiled beneath the surface of his dark brown eyes as he beheld his second in command. His voice a growl, he answered, “The.. the damn guards! They got up and started firing. They got Imoen and Valygar. I hit one of em, so did Valygar before they got him. But it didn’t seem to do a damn thing.”

“You sure you hit them?” Jaheira asked, her voice betraying disbelief.

“Hells yes woman. Two shots in the chest. One in the damn X ring. And Valygar hit another. Holed the bastard in the chest and it didn’t even have the decency to stop shooting,” snarled Bran in reply.

From above, Minsc rumbled, “Maybe you need bigger guns. Minsc has a much bigger gun.”

Jaheira looked from Bran to Minsc and back to Bran. “Minsc does at that.” A plan was starting to germinate. Friends were wounded or worse, and they needed to get to them. They would need cover fire to get to them, and a disruptor cannon provided plenty of that. Turning towards the two prone forms of their comrades, she said, “We need to get to Valygar and Imoen before the ‘not dead’ guards do.”

“Right,” Bran said with as much of a nod as he could with Minsc’s armored forearm pinning his neck to the wall. As his training finally began winning the war against emotion, his eyes locked on Lilracor, his thoughts mirroring Jaheira’s. “Minsc, we’re going to need cover fire. Flip on that shielding of yours. I’ll lay down fire so you can get out there without getting clipped. Then let er rip with your Lilracor while we get to the others.”

Both Minsc and Jaheira nodded in agreement. At Jaheira’s gesture, the big man lowered the captain to the deck and helpfully brushed him off. Then he stepped back, one hand manipulating the controls for the personal shield generator Nalia had built into his suit. The shield had a limited operational time as it drew from the suit’s power and was even further constrained by the lack of a sufficient coolant system for the generator coil. Still, it would stand up in a firefight for a few minutes, long enough for Minsc and his disruptor cannon to do their work.

Now free from the gunner’s life saving embrace, Bran picked up his fallen Bladesinger rifle and looked at Jaheira. Before he could say a word, Jaheira quickly laid out the rest of the plan, “I will get to Imoen. I’m faster than you, and I have medical training, something you don’t have. So, I will take care of Imoen. You get Valygar back here so that Aerie can look at him and help him if she can. My plan also has the benefit of allowing us to fire from both sides of the corridor.”

Not entirely thrilled with her plan but seeing the logic in it, he thumbed the power selector on his rifle to maximum and nodded with some hesitancy. “All good points. And a good plan.” Resting his shoulder against the corridor wall, he looked over at Minsc. “You ready big man?”

Minsc made a final adjustment to his shield controls and a light blue corona enveloped the gunner. Big hands gripped the Lilracor 900 and lowered it into firing position. As Minsc powered it up, Boo situated himself in the light laser ‘turret’ Nalia had built into the Lilracor 900’s harness, little paws gripping the firing studs. Minsc flicked off the weapon’s safety then looked up at Jaheira and Bran, a huge grin splitting the big man’s tattooed face. “Minsc and Boo and Larry are ready for action! Evil, meet Larry! Larry, meet EVIL!!”

On queue, a manic voice chimed in, “Is it time to kill!? Woohoo!! Finally! I like that!!”

Bran looked over at the crouching Jaheira and shook his head. “They’re ready. Now for some cover fire.”

Silently, Bran swung his weapon around the corner, holding down the trigger and spraying the corridor. As his Bladesinger poured out bolts of angry red energy down the corridor, he heard the thrum of the dead guards heavy pistols returning fire and felt the impact of bolts against the wall he sheltered behind. Seeing movement in the corridor, he focused his fire on the guard who had been using the lull in fire to try and sneak up on them. Red lances slashed into the guard, tearing smoking holes in its torso and severing one arm at the shoulder. Even so wounded, the guard did not fall and even continued to fire.

Under the cover of Bran’s renewed assault, Minsc charged into the corridor, Lilracor ready. The big man crashed to a stop as an errant blast slammed into his shielding, causing the corona to shimmer yellow and orange. Smiling, the big man swung the barrel towards the nearest guard and depressed the firing stud on the heavy disruptor.

The disruptor’s compensators hummed as energy coursed down the reinforced power couplings from the generator and into the focusing chamber. Violent blue energy writhed along the surfaces of the emitter dish as the destructive power was concentrated into a coherent beam capable of tearing apart matter on a molecular level. With a sharp crack, an ultramarine beam of coherent energy erupted from the weapon, slicing through the air. The tattered guard’s body offered little resistance, the beam vaporizing torso and head before it slammed into the unyielding alloy of the wall. The ancient metal twisted and exploded, showering the hallway with molten shrapnel as the destructive energies carved a deep gouge in the surface. As little pieces of superheated metal spanged against Minsc’s defensive shielding, that familiar manic electronic voice exulted, “Oooh! Oooh! Toss a credit in that fountain!! Pretty colors! Let’s make MORE!!”

Almost as if bidden by the disruptor cannon’s ravings, Minsc swung around, pointing the business end of the shoulder mounted field weapon at the other three guards. As he sighted in on them, ignoring the blaster bolts that sizzled against his personal shield, the big man shouted, “The eyes Boo! Go for the eyes!!”

The hum of the compensators ratcheted up to a shrill wine as the heavy weapons expert launched a spear of disruptor fire down the corridor. This time, a second, finer, red beam joined the ultramarine one as Boo fired his personal laser cannon. The remaining reanimated guards scattered, desperately trying to avoid the destructive power unleashed by the gunner and the gunner’s mate.

They didn’t move fast enough. Both Minsc and Boo scored hits, the disruptor beam disintegrating the arm and shoulder of a fleeing guard while Boo squeaked in triumph as his laser scored a blinding hit across the face of another. As Minsc poured fire in, Lilracor 900 gibbered, “Who wants some?! Who wants a little!? You!? You want a little?! Oh, I got some for you! You like that, huh? I got plenty more where that came from! Fresh, hot, and steaming!! Hey! Come back! Don’t run away! Hiding just makes me ANGRY!!!” To reinforce the point, the beam glowed a brighter blue as it tore into the heavy alloys of the corridor walls.

With the remaining opponents fleeing the one man wrecking crew that was Minsc and his Lilracor 900, Bran and Jaheira made their move. Jaheira raced across the open corridor, sprinting towards the prone Imoen while Bran rushed to the side of his fallen navigator. Wisps of smoke rose from the charred spot on the back of his armor, but luckily it seemed the armor had held. Reaching down to grab Valygar by the upper arms and drag him back to cover was when he saw the blood. One of the blasts had torn through the lighter armor over the arm and through the airtight biosuit underneath. The flesh beneath was badly burned and rivulets of blood poured from the torn flesh.

Shifting his hold to not do further damage, Bran heaved and hauled the unmoving navigator back to the corridor. As he marched backwards dragging Valygar, Bran silently thanked Nalia for modifying his command suit with strength enhancing servos. Once he was close to cover, he called out, “Doc! I got Valygar here and he’s wounded. Need your help out here!”

As Bran laid Valygar down on the deck, he saw Aerie come rushing out of the cell. She came to a skidding halt next to the captain, brusquely ordering him to flip the still unconscious Valygar. Laying him flat on his back, Bran was heartened to see that his navigator, while still unconscious, looked to be breathing. However, before he could see anything else, Dr. Av’lina muscled him out of the way to begin tending to his wounds.

Letting the doctor work her magic, he switched to the common channel and asked, “Jaheira? How is Imoen?”

“Ugh,” complained a familiar voice. A big smile burst on Bran’s face as his sister’s voice came over the comms, “I’m just fine Muffinhead. I’ve got a headache and my armor is going to need some new paint, but I’ll live. Punks are going to pay for messing up my paint job.”

As she finished, Jaheira confirmed Imoen’s report, although less colorfully. “She is well, Bran. The blast didn’t pierce the armor. No injuries beyond some bruising. It seems the impact from the wall just stunned her temporarily.”

“Good,” he replied. Turning his attention to the corridor and his gunner, he asked, “Minsc?”

“Yes, Captain Bran?” came Minsc’s reply over the continual taunts by Lilracor and the complaining of the disruptor compensators.

“We’re all under cover, so cease fire and get your armor plated butt back here!”

Bran heard Lilracor complain, “What? We’re not done yet! There’s still stuff in need of serious shooting! I want more BLOOD! No fun!!”

Minsc ignored the weapon and replied cheerfully, “Yes sir!”

The crackle of coherent energy faded as Minsc released the firing stud on the Lilracor 900. It was replaced by the decreasing hum of the compensators as the weapon powered down and the sizzle of burning circuit boards and plastics. Minsc’s assault significantly reshaped the corridor. Huge charred furrows covered the walls and cratered the far wall of the security center beyond. The security station itself was nothing more than a shattered remnant. The disruptor beam had ripped apart the lighter metal of the station like it was tissue paper, whole sections sagging at crazy angles. Innumerable small fires burned where the release of energy had ignited what electronic and plastic components survived the initial assault. Surprisingly, one of the chairs still stood despite the onslaught, the synthetic fibers burning merrily. Amongst the burning wreckage nothing moved, but danger still lurked.

Rejoining Bran, Minsc folded the disruptor into the safe position and lowered his personal shield. As the defensive corona faded, Bran queried, “Report.”

“Minsc and Boo and Larry wiped the deck plates with evil’s naughty buttocks!” boomed Minsc enthusiastically. “One moving dead guard completely smited, another wounded.” A shrill squeak sounded from Minsc’s shoulder. “And Boo would like to report that he followed orders and got the eyes of another one!”

“Good work you two,” he said with a nod. Looking across the hallway at where Jaheira crouched, her eyes and scanners searching for targets, he asked, “You see any movement?”

“No. However, I’m getting some movement on my motion sensors. But after Minsc finished his redecorating, thermal and EM scans are useless, so I can’t confirm. But at least one of them is still moving. Probably waiting for us to come to them,” came Jaheira’s reply.

“Especially after Minsc’s fire show. Of course, the implication is that they can think and plan. Which is disturbing.”

“Always safer to assume the enemy is as smart as you are until you prove they aren’t. You live longer that way.”

Bran shot her a quick smile. “Wise as always.”

An eyebrow arched. “Indeed.” And the eyebrow was joined by a slight smile. It didn’t last long as, as she turned her attention to the injured navigator. “How is Valygar?”

Bran’s smile disappeared as well. “He’s hurt, but I don’t know how badly. Doctor? How is he?”

Doctor Av’lina lifted her eyes from her ministrations and replied, “I’m patching up the damage to his arm, but I’d like to get him to med bay. It also looks like he’s got a serious contusion on the left knee. No broken bones, but deep soft tissue trauma. He’ll be able to walk, but he’ll be limping. He also has a mild concussion as well and energy shock. Once I’ve finished, I’ll bring him back around.”

As the doctor finished her report, Bran noticed the Yolandan woman for the first time. She was still wrapped in a thermal blanket and watched the doctor minister to the wounded navigator with a mixture of sadness and determination. Noticing his stare, she looked up and walked over to where the captain crouched. Bowing at the waist, as was custom of her people, she introduced herself. “Mazzy Fentan, at your service. I’d like to thank …”

Bran hastily cut her off, “A combat zone isn’t exactly the best place for formal introductions. Do you know how many of these things there are?”

He could see the Yolandan’s eyes tighten in annoyance. Cursing inwardly at her stiff necked race, Bran hastily added, “Captain Bran Varnas. So, do you know? Is it just these four?”

“A pleasure, Captain Varnas. And as far as I observed before my capture, it is not just these four, but the entire original crew,” replied the mollified Fentan.

“The entire crew? That must be thousands of them!” was Bran’s astonished reply.

“Yes. And they are extremely dangerous foes, intelligent, able to adapt rapidly, and to lay traps. They must have used me to draw you and your crew into this one, for which I am sorry..” Fentan replied apologetically

“Nothing you could have done. I should have seen it,” replied Bran. Letting out a quick breath, he turned to more practical matters. “But that aside, how do we kill.. I mean RE-kill these bastards?”

“My science officer,” the sadness deepened in the Yolandan woman’s voice, “determined that whatever controls these evil things resides in the brain. Destroying that, or severing its physical connection to the body seems the only way to send these ‘un’- dead back to the grave.”

“So, in short, head shots?”

The Yolandan looked at him speculatively, almost as if looking for a sign of insult before replying. “Yes. Head shots.”

Turning back to the silent, battle scarred corridor, he grumbled, “At least we know how to kill them. Of course, it would help if we could see the bastards. Awful hard to hit them when they’re hiding.”

Minsc, who had been listening silently, boomed, “Captain Bran, I think Minsc and Boo have an idea.” He turned to Mazzy, “You told Captain Bran that you just had to knock the head off the body right?”

Mazzy gave the big man a speculative look, “Yes.”

A crafty smile crossed the big man’s face. “Good. Then Boo’s idea will work perfectly!”

One eyebrow arched as the captain looked at his gunner. Voice betraying not an ounce of surprise, he said, “It’s going to involve big explosions, isn’t it?”

Minsc turned to his captain, surprise written large on the big man’s tattooed face. Pointing a finger at his captain, he answered, “You… you are a smart one! How did you guess Minsc and Boo’s crafty plan?”

Smiling despite himself, Bran replied, “That’s the reason I’m the captain, Minsc. So why don’t you lay it on me.”

Minsc laughed, “Of course! I should have known Captain Bran would come up with his own clever plan to defeat nasty, smelly evil!” Then with gusto, the big gunner detailed his plan.

Bran listened, nodding along. It was simple and direct, and he had to admit, it sounded like it would work. Looking up into Minsc’s big, smiling face, he ordered, “Do it.”