Unusual Space

nusual Space

  C.W.Sheppard

  Copyright 2013 Christopher Sheppard

  Sweat began to bead on his temples. He knew he was the last of his squad; at this point survival was his target. The mission -- pointless. His comrades -- lost. He barely had enough hope motivating him to leave the vacuous and interminable corridors of the vessel.

  He'd seen it all; every cruel, malicious devouring alien in the charts, but it was the two legged vermin he feared the most. He never knew if those beside him would double cross for money, or worse, a laugh and satisfaction of an empty kill.

  Step by step our trooper crept on.

  "Only a few hundred meters," he thought "then I'll be to the safe zone and I can blow this barge."

  Gripping his plasma rifle, it was charged past the suggested “safe” capacity as reflected by the stressed needle. The jittery orange struggled to accommodate the pressure of this deadly weapon. After all, this type of warfare was hardly safe. No factory could ever slap a ‘one-size-fits-all’ label of ‘safe’ onto the spectacles he’d seen in his career.

  "Anybody comes across me and they'll be dust."

  He knew he'd only have one shot; one good shot before he'd have to recharge his weapon. That took energy and time, neither of which our soldier would have if he became ambushed.

  Weaving through the narrow, cabled halls of wire, steam, and blinking lights our soldier remained vigilant to every ambience. A simple ‘click’ could mean the difference between life and death.

  Left, right, right, right, left, left, straight. He navigated the vessel hoping to arrive to the safe zone soon. With every step and every breathe thoughts of his family, his dog, his wife, and his life in general all flashed across his internal.

  "I can't leave any of them," he thought, "I have to make it off this ship.

  Suddenly, the reptile in his brain took over as he spun on his heels and aimed behind him. Surely he was being followed; nothing else he had heard could have imitated the sounds that haunted him.

  "Maybe I'm going crazy," he thought.

  He knew that was a lie. He'd been here a hundred times before. It wasn't until he ducked into a corner and waited for the sounds to resume that he was certain they were footsteps.

  "One shot. One good shot and then you run," he ordered himself.

  Waiting as the steps approached, our soldier’s breath quickened. He became hot -- his heart beat so loud he could hardly hear himself think.

  "Take a deep breath," he ordered himself.

  Doing so, and then exhaling, his gut yelled to him "Now! He's right around the corner grab him now!"

  With stealth and subterfuge our soldier turned the corner, reached out where he envisioned the throat of his pursuer would be, squeezed hard and pointed his weapon into his opponents indiscernible face.

  "Wait! Don't!"

  The other man was not an opponent, but to his disbelief one of the last surviving troopers of his squad.

  "You idiot! I about removed your head. Why were you sneaking up on me!?"

  "I didn't know who you were, so I had to figure that out. Then you disappeared!"

  "Can you blame me? I thought everybody was dead and I was the last of us."

  A silence fell between our protagonist and his comrade confirming his inquiry that they were in fact the last two of their team.

  "You know a way off this thing?" asked our protagonist.

  "I do. Cover me and we'll be out of here in no time."

  More winding and twisting through the labyrinthine corridors that composed the derelict vessel. Left became right, right became left. Up felt like down. There was no discernible direction in space’s cold infinity.

  "Almost there," whispered the comrade.

  A thick vault door acted as a bulwark separating the two soldiers from freedom and despair. The comrade managed to convince the door to open by entering a simple line of code into an adjacent keypad.

  "Lets go."

  Entering the room, our protagonist suddenly felt uneasy.

  "Why are there no escape pods..."

  And before the comrade could answer his question our protagonist had pieced together what happened.

  The thunder of the opposing forces announced their presence as five heavily armed troopers entered in through other junctions and surrounded our protagonist.

  His worst fear had come true.

  "How could you betray me?!"

  "Simple really; they take care of me, and I get you all killed. No more competition! Now gentlemen have at him."

  Cold faces stared at our protagonist as the knot in his stomach tightened, his teeth clenched, and his heart sank. Desperately, he could try to take out a few of them, but it wouldn't matter. Since his gut confirmed to him that they would not permit him to be taken as a hostage, our protagonist made one final quick decision.

  In a blink, he raised his charged plasma rifle and aimed it at who he thought had been his fellow comrade and pulled the trigger. Screaming, his betrayer began to disintegrate in front of him resulting condensed plasma particles forcing their way through the victim’s torso.

  In retaliation, the rival troopers let loose on our protagonist. The plasma scorched his body, but the physical pain was no match for the emotional pain that lingered in his decomposing carriage.

  "Looks like the mission is complete; all rivals have been eliminated," said one trooper aloud.

  A harrowing scene, our protagonist laid face down and lifeless. The opposing forces, careless to the integrity of their foes, left the betrayed to smolder. Carrying their carcasses out with them served no purpose.

  “We could jettison them both out of a garbage tube,” one trooper suggested.

  “I don’t really feel like getting my hands dirty,” replied another.

  Suddenly, our protagonist rose from his slump and began charging his weapon. Without aim, he began shooting wildly at his unsuspecting opponents hitting all of them in an indiscriminate spray.

  "Hey!" yelled one of the rivals, "We killed you!"

  "HA! I have a special armor that protects against your weapons! Now you're the ones who die!"

  "Not fair! That's cheating!"

  "We don't want to war with you any more if you aren't going to do it by the rules and stay dead when shot!"

  But our protagonist didn't care. Full of fire he was going to take revenge on his fallen allies.

  "Seriously dude, you're dead," said the comrade lying on the ground miraculously alive as well, "Don't cheat; nobody will want you around if you war like that."

  But our protagonist didn't care.

  “Conan! Go!” yelled the protagonist as he continued his attack.

  Dressed in animal hides, wielding a broadsword, and letting loose a warrior’s cry a hulking mass of a man emerged from the shadows and began slashing at the rival forces.

  “DUDE WE’RE IN SPACE TODAY! NO BARBARIANS ALLOWED! GO HOME,” yelled one trooper.

  “Stop hitting me with that thing!” another yelled in response to the brute’s speechless, frantic slashing.

  Their chaotic assault continued until a voice on the overhead system broke through:

  "krrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrk, TIME TO zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzk. THIRTY wrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr PAST CURFEW."

  "What does that mean," said a voice.

  ---

  "Seriously these kids never listen," thought the mother.

  "YOU WERE ALL SUPPOSED TO BE HOME 30 MINUTES AGO," she yelled out into the open field.

  Eight kids armed with water guns, except for one seemingly misplaced child dressed in rags wielding a large tree branch like a club, remained soaked and loosely assembled from their recent liquid onslaught.

  “I will start calling all your parents individually if you don’t high-tail it hom
e now! You all have school tomorrow!”

  ---

  “ENEMY MOTHERSHIP APPROACHING. SELF DESTRUCT SEQUENCE INITIATED.”

  “Okay…that one was loud and clear!” yelled one trooper.

  “Quick!” yelled our protagonist, “If you died, I’ll change my rifle’s setting to renew and bring you all back! We have to get off the ship!”

  “You cheat! Your rifle doesn’t have a renew setting!” whined the comrade.

  “Hey if I remember correctly you’re still dead,” said our protagonist as he flicked a switch on the side of his weapon and using the life-giving setting as a last reason to shoot his betraying comrade further.

  “No time to explain! Get onto to one of the escape pods!”

  All seven troopers, and the misplaced Conan, flustered with plasma drenched armor ran off down separate corridors to their respective escape pods. Before reaching the junction that lead to his pod, our protagonist looked across the void back at his comrade one last time who was running in the opposite direction.

  “Till next time comrade!” he yelled out.

  Turning on his heels the comrade spun around gave a quick salute, and then vanished down his respective avenue. This gesture seemingly erased any of the backstabbing that had occurred earlier between the two.

  “TWENTY SECONDS UNTIL SELF DESTRUCT.”

  Boots drumming the steel grates beneath him, our protagonist rushed into his escape pod and with a cavalier flick hit the lever that sealed the door.

  “TEN SECONDS UNTIL SELF DESTRUCT”

  Trying to ignore the internal battle of “I’m not going to make it…yes I am…no you’re not,” our protagonist strapped himself into the pod. Pressing the obvious red switch, the pod jostled before launching with dazzling and dizzying force. In a blink the small craft jettisoned into the voids of space at gut wrenching speeds.

  “SELF DESTRUCT IN 5…4…3…”

  ---

  “2…1…” the mother yelled as her son’s right foot grazed the doorjamb slightly with his last second running out. This confirmed he had made it home in time and avoiding serious consequence.

  ---

  Our protagonist, sighing relief, had made it home and was greeted with applause, cheers, and tears as his vessel unloaded into the loading bay of his station. Confetti drizzled from the vaulted ceilings as his adoring fans waved banners and rushed up to greet him.

  ---

  The dog tackled the boy as he ran in and compulsively and adoringly began to lick the child’s face.

  “Well that was cutting it close. You keep running like that and you’ll be able to get into track and field when you get a little older,” said the mother, “Get upstairs and get washed up. Food is almost ready and your dad will be home any minute. Don’t be looking like a mess.”

  Between the child’s laugh and the dog’s excited whimpers that his boy was home, our protagonist, our hero, rose and rushed upstairs to do what his mother had asked. Quick on his heels he was followed closely by his furry fan.

  ---

  Breaching his quarters, our hero exhaled the heaviest relief. He had safely returned. Looking out into the darkness of space through the industrial framed portal, he reflected on his journey. Though it was catastrophic at first, he couldn’t help but feel the overwhelming excitement during the process. Smiling, he thought what was to come next as he was enraptured by view of millions and millions of twinkling lights applauding him from near and far.

  “Until next time for sure comrade…”