Logbook entry

The Thargoid Advantage Part 3



Continued from Part 2


Creamy strolled down corridor feeling pretty good about his chances. The PA system was still working, so Purberrys’ message had been heard all around the ship. Creamy hoped that knowing the captain was still in charge of the vessel would reassure the captives, at least a little until help arrived. He was feeling confident, but he was still walking around a ship that could be full of hijackers, so Creamy did at least resist the urge to whistle. He knew apprehension and nervousness should be dancing with its needle-like-feet up and down his spine, but Creamy if asked would have to say he felt drunk more then on edge.

After floating down a ladder he paused at a tee-junction trying to remember the layout. The EOM evacuation ships were all configured the same, and Creamy had familiarised himself with the quickest way to the system rooms, so he just had to choose if he was going to the try and sort out the communications, or the FSD first. The sound of a gun fight reverberating up the corridors drew Creamys’ attention; that noise made the decision for him. If there was fighting, that meant there were allies; allies that needed his help.

Turning off his mag-boots, Creamy pulled himself along the ship so his footsteps wouldn’t give him away as he approached the fight. It was a good idea because two security officers floated into view coming quickly from the direction of the gun fire, and Creamy hadn’t heard them coming.

“I say! Just the people I was hoping to come across” said Creamy glad to see ship security.

The woman, just as surprised to see Creamy took a moment to respond. When she did, she pointed her pistol at the captain and pulled the trigger. Instinctively, Creamy put his foot against the wall and pushed off avoiding the first two shots, but the rest burst against his shield. Creamy felt hurt that the very people he was coming to help had attacked him on sight, but then Creamy remembered the two people that had tried to cut their way into the cockpit; those rotten sorts were in guards’ uniforms too. There was no time to scold himself for forgetting the situation, he had two armed assailants to deal with. Relying on what was left of his shields, Creamy launched himself like a torpedo at the first attacker.

He collided with her, ramming his shoulder into her chest putting himself out the way of her gun barrel. Being a champion of equality, Creamy beat the woman just as he would any man that had attacked him. He kept himself chest to chest with her and delivered a barrage of knees and elbows. Keeping her off balance, Creamy used her as a human shield to get close to the other hijacker. A final elbow uppercut shattered the woman’s face mask and put her out of the fight.

The other raider also used his partner as cover, and reached around her jabbing a fully charged power-link under Creamys’ ribs. He released the trigger, and saw the captains’ shield over load and then Creamy went rigid, gritting his teeth as thousands of volts saturated his nervous system. Gronning in pain unable to fight back, Creamy felt himself slammed against something hard and a boot was pressing into his neck.

“Beat the other two did ya captain?” Asked Greyfryer as if he was talking to a bug he was about to crush. “Well you’re fucked now. Never seen one of these things eat into a man’s flesh” he leered pulling out a long thick cylinder. “Let’s find out what it’s like together ay?”

Pressing the clear end of the cylinder to Creamys’ forehead Greyfryer pushed the button on top with his thumb. A big bug with a fleshy flower on its back dropped out of the dispenser and flailed around for a moment before it found its feet. Greyfryer felt a feeble hand on his leg, so he took hold of Creamys’ fingers and pulled them back. Shifting his boot off Creamys’ neck, Greyfryer stepped on the man’s arm to pin him down and stop him interfering with the bug; he watched with interest as the Ear Grub got to work.

Creamy started moaning and shaking his head around, but that didn’t dislodge the bug. Hooks on the end of the creatures’ legs had already found an anchor in his skin, and its jaws were cutting their way down to his skull.

“Let it happen man, just let it happen” chuckled Greyfryer; this was going to be good.

The drunken feeling had fled Creamy, chased out by the staple like tugging at his skin caused by the grubs’ legs. A scissors slicing sound was being transported through his skull to his ears accompany by a painful rasp long his forehead. The fear of his beautiful face being scared brought a surge of strength, and Creamy easily freed his arm so he could grab whatever was on his head. Instinct born of years of sparing with fighters of many disciplines activated his powerful legs and Creamy kicked Greyfryer in the spine while his other leg coiled back to propel another kick to the attackers arse, making him fly head first into the wall.

Closing his fingers around the thing on his head Creamy painfully pulled the grub free with another cry of pain. He opened his hand to see what it was. The creature took a fair amount of flesh and torn skin with it leaving bloody chunks on the ends of its stumpy legs. Being covered in slick red vital fluids with tatters of skin draped over it, Creamy couldn’t tell what it was, but he was completely horrified by what he was seeing and the damage it had done to his face.

“What the bloody hell is wrong with you man?” pleaded Creamy still looking at the thing writhing in his grip.

His other gloved hand dabbed at his forehead and it came back soaked in his blood. An uncharacteristic anger gripped the usually amiable Imperial; he scooped up Greyfryer by the scruff of his neck and repeatedly bashed the mans’ helmet in to the wall until it shattered. Turning the punch-drunk raider around, Creamy swatted a stream of his own free-floating blood from between them before he demanded answers.

“What in the stars is this thing?” he asked waving the ichor-covered grub under Greyfryers nose. “What possessed you to put this on another chaps’ face you.. .. Shit!” he exclaimed. Creamy didn’t curse often, but he felt this turn of events demanded he dipped in to seldom-used areas of his vocabulary.

Greayfryer couldn’t answer, his head lolled on a limp neck while Creamy tried to shake some sense out of him. Looking at the grub once more, Creamy made a cruel decision. Cruelty was not Creamys’ way, but this raider had messed with his face. Pulling the mans’ breathing mask off, Creamy forced Greayfryers mouth open, and slapped the grub between his unresisting lips. Moments after Creamy put his mask back in place, Greyfryer found the same fear-fuelled reserve of strength Creamy had dipped into. Floating back, Creamy watch Greyfryer try in vain to pull the grub out, forcing an impressive amount of digits into his own mouth.

Greyfryer could feel it trying to get down this throat, but the gagging and chocking that caused pushed the panicking creature back. Not able to go forward down the moist warm hole, the grub decided to dig its way to safety. Feeling the grub burrowing into the roof of his mouth the way it had on Creamys’ head filled Greayfryer with a type of panic he had yet to experience. If he managed to get a grip on the blood and saliva slick growth on the bugs back, the thing just bit down hard on the soft pad at the top of Greyfryers throat and he lost his grip on its fin.

There was nothing for it; he had to bite the thing to death. He felt his teeth bite through the ear like growth, but that didn’t stop it digging into his mouth. He put his fingers beside the grub once again, and Greyfryer shoved it over to his molars the best he could resisting the urge to gag. Gripping the bug in his teeth, he pulled his fingers out and bit down as hard as he could.

Creamy could hear a muffled alien screech come from Greayfryer, and eventually worked out he had chosen to bite the thing to death. It was perfect timing too; Creamy was starting to regret having done such a heinous thing to another person. Still the man had pulled his mask aside, and was spitting out blood covered chunks of bug, so Creamy confident the raider was now safe, kicked him in the head . . Just hard enough to send him to sleep for a little while.

After cuffing the two together, hands to feet through the hand rail, Creamy took their weapons and equipment then tossed it all around the corner. His gloves where now covered in blood, so he had taken to dabbing the still-bleeding wound on his head with the sleeve of his uniform. The distant sound of gun fire caught his attention again and Creamy set off in the direction of the fight.

Although he had just done something terrible, and Creamy was deeply worried that he would have a permanent scar on his perfect face now, a calm soon fell over him. Creamy racked his mind trying to remember if he had drunk something powerful the other night. Surly not; he never drank much when he was going to be flying passengers, and he most certainly wouldn’t drink at all if he had a pilot on a live evacuation test the next day.

There was no time to think about that now, the fight was very close; it sounded as if it was around the very next corner. Taking a deep breath and stopping with his back to the wall, Creamy took a peek at the next mess he was about to get into.
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