Three clanks followed by a short hiss and finally loud pop.
“Connection green,” Three-tusk reported to Long Tongue and Wheez standing behind him guns ready.
“Pop it!” Wheez ordered as he shouldered past Three-Tusk.
Wheez slammed shoulder first into the opposite wall spraying the hallway as soon as the hatch popped. One bov blew apart as Wheez’s shots struck, his bovine mouth forming an O of surprise. A second bov, dove for cover around a bulkhead, mooing in alarm.
Wheez waved Three-Tusk and Long Tongue onto the ship. A quick gesture forward, commanded Three-Tusk down the hallway in search of the other bov. Another quick gesture sent Long Tongue the opposite way searching for additional crew. Clawed finger to earpiece, Wheez activated his comm-piece.
“Status!” he ordered.
“Locked out of the engine room, working on a bypass. Send the twins if you want it done faster,” Long Tongue reported.
Gun fire, ricochets, other sounds of combat, and a several grunts before Three-Tusk responded, “Found three more bovs, hope you like your steak well done,” his laughter ringing through the comm.
Wheez switched the Death Cackle’s comm, “Twins get your gear and fix Long Tongue’s problem in the engine room.”
“Affirmative,” two high pitched voices responded.
Switching out the almost empty ammo pack, Wheez stalked towards Three-Tusk who was supposed to take the bridge, intact. Knowing Three-Tusk, he was probably hunting down bov for sport. Shaking his mane, Wheez stepped over the remains of the first bov on his way to the bridge. Behind him, two brown mice crouching low ran out of the Cackle and opposite his direction.
Rounding the last corner to the bridge, a loud boom, greeted Wheez. He popped back behind the corner, bits of bulkhead bounced off the walls. Three-Tusk approached from the opposite direction at a run, sliding to a stop as Wheez held up his hand in warning. Another boom, more bulkhead sprayed around the junction.
“Time to make some burger,” Wheez shouted pulling a grenade off his vest.
Three-Tusk stepped around the corner, firing wildly, and roaring gibberish at the top of his lungs. Wheez primed the grenade, rounded the corner, and threw. Before taking cover behind the corner, he saw the grenade bounce off a ceiling light, into a door, and into a room. Panicked moos, an explosion, and moos of pain.
Smoke drifted down the hallway to the junction, Wheez started laughing as he and Three-Tusk stepped into the hallway. Tusk nudged Wheez in the ribs, “Burgers?”
Wheez’s laugh turned into wheezes and then a barking laugh as he and Tusk stepped over two dead bov onto the bridge.
“Burgers for sure,” Tusk said looking around the bridge. “One hell of a throw Wheez.”
“Check the systems,” Wheez ordered. Clicking his comm-system, “Tongue, status!”
“Twins are doing their thing, nothing else to report.”
“Bridge secured. Tusk is checking systems files. Update me when you have something.”