"Is everyone all right?"

  The Captain squinted his eyes as he tried to see through the thick smoke. One of the helm consoles was burning, the twisted metal bubbling with melting plastic.

  "I'm trapped over here."

  Meredith struggled against the wires and bulkheads that were pinning her against the wall. Her voice was trembling, filled with the trepidation of claustrophobia. George appeared next to her, his smile soothing her nerves.

  "Are you okay? Is anything broken?"

  "I don't think so."

  He nodded and set about pulling the debris from off of her. The Captain stepped over towards the front of the bridge, searching for his other two officers as he continued to cough through the acrid fumes.

  "Rob? Karen? Are you guys okay?"

  "I'm here, but Karen is knocked out. She has some pretty bad facial burns. I need a medkit."

  The Captain moved to a back wall, pulling emergency supplies from a hidden cabinet. He tossed the pack to Robert and moved next to George to assist. The muscles of George's tanned arms were straining and covered with a light sweat; his anxiety was apparent, laboring to aid someone he cared for.

  "Get the tactical console up and working. I'll take care of Meredith."

  He looked up briefly, about to argue the order. His Captain's face was soft and smiling, but commanding and respectful as well. George looked down and nodded.

  His station was still active, the readout showing the attacking ships holding a steady position about six hundred kilometers distant and not making any further hostile moves. There was no sign of the cargo ship holding their friends.

  With a strained grunt, the metal plates over Meredith came loose and the Captain tossed them into a corner. He pulled strands of heated wires off of her body and helped her to stand. She was favoring one leg slightly, blood flowing lightly and staining the material over her left thigh.

  "Meredith, try and get the defense systems back up. Who knows how long we have before those ships out there attack again. George, damage report."

  George tapped his keyboard in frustration, the computer still refusing his commands.

  "Internal sensors seem to be offline. I can't get an accurate reading inside the Necronomicon." George looked up. "Alyssa?"

  The AI panel above the snowy viewscreen began to glow. Robert looked up at it with a hint of paranoia as he spread salve over Karen's wounds, one side of her face a mask of healing ointment.

  "Are you all right sir? We seem to have been attacked."

  "We have been Alyssa. I need a status report on the condition of the ship, can you help me?"

  "I'm afraid I can not sir. That is Psi's area of expertise and he no longer registers on the computer grid."

  "We know Alyssa, he's offship. Can you at least give me the status of the crew?"

  "Internal sensors are malfunctioning. Alexander does not seem to be responding to damage control."

  Robert looked back, his eyes meeting the Captain's and George's as they silently acknowledged each other's suspicions. Robert took a deep breath and looked back towards Alyssa.

  "How are you feeling Alyssa?"

  "I am fine sir. I am functioning within normal parameters."

  Everyone was quiet for a moment, unsure of what to say. A spark shot out of the helm console, lighting up the room for an unsettling second. The Captain shrugged.

  "Can you at least gather the positions of our subcutaneous transponders?"

  "I believe so."

  "Compile the data and transmit the results to tactical."

  "Yes sir."

  George waited for the results and started looking over the list as they displayed the locations of the other crew members. It didn't show their current conditions, but it was better than nothing.

  "We register on the bridge. Brian and Gus are in Engineering. Vanessa and Heather are in Medical while Krista is in the outer corridor. Sandra is on deck seven; she's on the move, so she must be okay." George swallowed, verifying what Alyssa was reporting. "David is no longer on board."

  "He was in the Shuttle Bay supervising the launch. Do you think he's..."

  "We're not sure what's going on Meredith. His transponder could just be damaged. We don't know for certain. What about Kim, George?"

  "This can't be right." George pressed a few of the lighted keys, the panel buzzing in response as he shook his head. "Alyssa, are you sure this is correct?"

  "I'm afraid so, sir."

  "What is it George?"

  "It says here Kim is in the water reclamation plant, stuck between the filters and the waste disposal intake."

  "A human being can't fit in those pipes."

  "I ... I know. I can't explain it Captain." The readings over the short range sensors began to change. George looked down to see one of the enemy ships starting to advance, the distance between them closing rapidly. "One of the troop carriers is closing in Captain. They're gaining speed."

  The viewscreen still pulsed with static. The dark image of space peeked out between the lines of interference. Among the clouds of unintelligible jargon, a craft was rapidly growing in size as it's thrusters accelerated it closer, a thick vapor trail extending behind it.

  "I, uh ... I believe they intend to ram us sir."

  "Can we do anything about it?"

  "No."

  "Resound the collision alarm."

-    -     -

  "GOD DAMN IT!"

  Cool foam spurted out of the bright red fire extinguisher as Gus sprayed the dying flames that licked the sides of the plasma tanks. One of the fusion reactors had cracked under the immense strain, a metallic gash torn, and the plasma reaction was boiling down to a stop. The last of it's free floating protons were streaming out and the heat began to die down, the blue and powdery waves dissipating. Heavy moisture covered the ground and footing was slippery as Gus took one last look at the damaged shell. His stubbled face was sweaty, glistening a ruddy brown as the emergency lights twirled overhead.

  "Gus! I need a few of the spare relays, the ones leading to reactor two are fused."

  Brian was underneath the battery; thick cables lined the ground beneath him as he repaired severed lines and set the ship on auxiliary power. He struggled to jam an errant wire into it's plug, sparks spurting out around the edge that he grimaced through as they washed over his arms and face. There was a sucking pop of it falling into place and the circuit completed. The console above him lit up and he scrambled out from underneath it.

  "Fuck yeah!" He wiped an arm across his face, the freckles reappearing as black smudge was rubbed away. His body was tingling with adrenaline, every part of him warm with excitement. "We need to check for damage to the computer core."

  "What about the reactor?"

  "We can patch it up later, the battery will do for now. Communications seem to be down and we need to find out what the hell is going on upstairs. The computers are the best to do that."

  "What do you want me to do."

  "Well I ..." Brian looked up and his singed face was illuminated with the yellow tinge of the collision alarm as it began to shine for a second time. "NO! I just got this FUCKING thing fixed!"

  "Brace yourself amigo!"

-     -     -

  Sandra clutched the wall as the collision alarm sounded again. She closed her eyes and waited for the coming shock. When it hit, the corridor tilted to one side as gravity gave way to explosive inertia. She was thrown against the opposite wall and felt pain lance into the blade of her shoulder; her neck craned to one side and her slapped hard against the cuff of her shirt. A computer panel up the hallway burst apart and she screamed, the sound and pressure building to intolerable levels.

  The rumbling grew in intensity and quickly dropped away. After a few moments of peace, Sandra found herself on her knees. She picked herself up and made her way down the corridor, an injured arm held tight against her midsection.

-     -     -

  The AI panel on the wall of the Shuttle Bay began to glow once more. Alyssa's face formed out of the static that covered the screen, her electronic mouth snapping into an 'O' of surprise.

  The hole that had been blown through the cargo doors had been plugged. Edges of torn metal curled inward as the nose of a transport ship had forced it's way inside. Steam drifted into the air in thin wisps from melting bulkheads, bringing the stench of scorched titanium to the senses of no one. Alyssatook one last look around the Shuttle Bay, surveying the damage and searching for crew members, before quietly fading away.

  There was a fierce cracking and one of the hatches on the hull of the transport buckled. The lock clicked and the clamps began to disengage. The circular plate spun a number of turns and the whole nose pitched forward; the air hissed as the atmospheres equalized, the smoke swirling. The business ends of two plasma rifles immediately appeared from out of the darkness, the harsh click of their targeting sensors snapped into position as the soldiers carrying them swept their sights through the abandoned room.

  They stepped forward, carefully checking around the sides of the ship for signs of an ambush. There were none. One of the soldiers, a private according to the stripes on his sleeve, lifted the infrared goggles from his face and motioned to the interior of the transport.

  There was a bustle of activity as boots began to sound against metal flooring. Marine after marine began pouring forth, each carrying an assortment of weapons and a dark smile as they screamed their way forward. They were a blur of fatigues as almost two dozen trained men invaded the Necronomicon, carrying ammunition and supplies to start their assault.

  Behind them, the last to disembark, was a Major with a stern look of satisfaction. He nodded his assention as his marines began to set up their home post. He looked over to one of his subordinates.

  "Corporeal Newman."

  "Yes sir?"

  "Make sure you get communications up and running. Tell General Sweet we have arrived."

  "Yes Major Brothers."

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