Worldship Horizon, Scene 1

Worldship Horizon is constantly bouncing around my head, unfortunately nothing concrete, lots of scenes. So in the vein of Puddles and Whiskers, I am writing down the scenes to, hopefully, connect together later. Until then, enjoy. 🙂

Maxwell slapped the side of his helmet, the static disappeared, the tactical display on his visor returned, and disappeared just as quick. Leaning against a pile of debris, mostly large storage containers if he read the labels right, he took stock of his situation while bullets whined, winged, and ricocheted around him. Beyond the useless communications gear, pinned down in a hallway that looked and sounded like sections were seconds away from blowing out into space, most of his squad mates dead or wounded, and down to one or two clips of ammunition, at least he was alive. He flinched as shards from the wall flew his way from another, closer, ricochet.

He looked around him, Johannsson lay dead a few meters away between two storage boxes, across the hallway behind a large stack of storage crates and a damaged loader bot, Mitchell and Sams took cover. They nodded at him, Trisha Sams pointed at her helmet and shook her head, Maxwell shook his head in agreement, and they were screwed all right.

Who the invaders were Maxwell did not know, one moment eating lunch with the squad, the next alarms, and the sounds of the ship going to battle; thump of exterior weapons firing, tactical announcements over the ship, and people moving with purpose, military at least, to their stations. Luckily, ironically, he thought, his squad was on their way to their battle station when the attackers struck; a minute later and the attackers would have caught them unarmed. Running down the hallway, without warning static over comms, tactical displays go out, and shouts of alarm and injury when the bullets fly.

No time like the present, Maxwell turned to face the enemy, peaked over the edge of his cover, and for his courage rewarded with many ricochets and near misses. The enemy at the end of the end of the corridor behind a corner and more storage crates. For a second, he formed a mental note to talk to someone about all of the storage crates left around for the enemy to use as cover. A quick wave got Mitchell and Sams attention, Maxwell pulled a grenade off his belt and mimed throwing the grenade, Mitchell and Sams pulled a grenade and waited. Holding up three fingers, Maxwell dropped them…

Three…

Two…

One…

Standing up, all three of them threw their grenades down the hallway. The milisecond they appeared the enemy started shooting, Mitchell ducked behind cover holding his right arm, Sams fell back, dead. Maxwell ducked behind the storage boxes and tucked into a ball, arms wrapped tightly around his legs.

Whomp, whomp, whomp; all three grenades exploded. Maxwell relaxed and turned to look over the boxes when he heard the noise, a long tearing, metal ripping sound, panicking he looked at Mitchell who flashed him a thumbs up right before he and Sams bodies along with the damaged bot, their cover, and other debris was forcefully ejected into space. Lifted off his feet, arms pin wheeling, Maxwell fly across the wall way and slammed into the emergency bulkhead; crashing to the ground with other debris Maxwell took stock of his situation.

Alive.

 

 

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