SG: WCD 45 Desperado Kick Part Steve. Its a pretty name.

[Lawrence Brown]

AUTHORS NOTE:

HELLO, THE PERSONS RESPONSIBLE FOR SACKING

THE OTHER PERSONS, HAVE BEEN SACKED.  THIS IS

ALL THAT'S LEFT FOR THIS EPISODE.  MAYBE SOMEDAY

I'LL FIGURE OUT HOW A 180K WORD FILE HAS TO BE SPLIT 

INTO MORE THAN TWO PIECES TO FIT IN A 100K POSTING 

LIMIT.  I NEED A DRINK.

 

The surprise attack had gone well, Spectrum reflected. The moment the 

entryway was breached the shaped charges had blown the remainders of the 

doorway back into the Nintan's faces. Then it was rock and roll with 

micro-missiles and guns. Foxy had scored a couple kills with carefully 

sniped shots, and the rest of the squad had done equally well, each 

taking down at least a couple. Two troopers had died but everyone else 

was alive and well. He noted with some admiration that the Heavy was 

battered but still fully operational. Clark had dashed off to help a 

pair of the remaining troopers, leaving a pair with Foxy and himself to 

try and draw a contingent towards the hangar bay.

 

"Okay! You're reloaded sir and we've scavenged the ammo from the 

others." The trooper gave him the thumbs up. "Clark's orders are for us 

to work towards the hangar. Anything to add?"

 

"No Harlan. I'll take point. Now I have an idea how Bulletproof must 

feel, with all this armor on me. Diamond pattern, you two scout side 

halls and we keep moving."

 

A young trooper with Adams stenciled on his armor spoke up. "Hey good 

news and bad news, I just was able to reach command."

 

"And the good news?" Foxy quipped.

 

"That was the good news. The bad news is we're marching towards a big 

nest. Begging your pardon, Spectrum, but I hope you took the damage 

waiver on that rental."

 

"I never do, those things are rip-offs."

 

The team progressed slowly, but unchallenged, until rounding another 

three corners. On the third turn, sparks showered off Spectrum's armor 

from gunfire as he jumped backwards.

 

"Oh, I see you have found them sir!"

 

"Funny!" Spectrum growled. "We have a small problem."

 

"Make those two problems, Sugar!" Foxy yelped, as she sniped a snake 

approaching from behind.

 

"Yours first."

 

"Okay, we have a few snakes coming up from behind us." A particle-beam 

lanced the ceiling behind them, and Foxy tossed a couple grenades 

rearward. The first was a smoke grenade, and the second turned out to be 

an HE, which collapsed the weakened ceiling.

 

"My lucky day. We just gained a few minutes cover while they clear 

that." Spectrum darted a quick glance around the corner. "Joy. Okay. We 

have a big pile of them coming around a side corridor and I can't get 

bead on them. Plus, we have to pass that choke point to get to the 

hangar. After that we should be in the clear."

 

"Why?" One of the troopers asked.

 

"My team is waiting for us there."

 

"Okay Foxy, what do you have in that pocket of yours?"

 

She fished around, pulling out a few random items. "Rubber chicken, 

kitchen sink, Kitchen Sink Comic Book, pistol, umbrella, bikini, RPG, oh 

and a couple grenades. Tripwire grenades."

 

"Okay, keep the pistol, umbrella, and comic book. I'll take the chicken, 

the sink, and the RPG."

 

"What about the bikini?"

 

"I'll wear it later."

 

"Perv."

 

"Tease."

 

The two troopers coughed.

 

Spectrum looked at them. "Okay. You two have any grenades?"

 

"I have a couple smokers..." Adams replied.

 

"Flashbang and HE." Harlan chimed in.

 

Spectrum took the HE and stuffed it inside the rubber chicken. "You 

pitch the flashbang. I'll charge out with the sink and the RPG. Adams 

you follow up with a smoker. I'll clear a hole and you come up behind 

with Foxy on rearguard. As you come even with the side corridor dump 

your missiles and keep running. Drop the last smoker and run for the 

hangar. Foxy slap the laser tripwires on the wall behind us when we get 

past the corridor, then run like Hell(tm)."

 

"Anyone wanna show me how to set these?" Foxy asked.

 

A couple hurried instructions later, and the die was cast. Fortunately 

the roll was an 18. Not a crit, but at least good enough for a hit. The 

flashbang did its job, and the Nintan were then treated to the blurry 

sight of a charging heavy at full run, wearing a sink on its head to 

muffle the flashbang. Fast-pitching the plumbing in the snake's 

direction, he triggered the RPG and scattered the aliens that had 

emerged from the corridor. As the troopers came even with the corridor, 

a alien's shot blew the leg off Harlan, and Spectrum grabbed the 

screaming trooper, while unloading with his free hand and dropping the 

chicken. Foxy vaulted the killzone and slapped the mines in place, 

barely breaking stride.

 

The after a moment, the aliens rounded the corner. Stopping just short 

of the tripwires, they gestured to each other, and then one stopped to 

pick up the rubber chicken.

 

"We do chicken right." Harlan growled as he detonated the grenade.

 

***

 

"Cornwall here, command. The bar is open for business."

 

"Roger, commence operation happy hour."

 

A dozen snakes slid into the room, ignoring the bottles on the tables 

and the whiskey barrels by the doorway. From behind a far barrier, 

Cornwall and the other three on his fire-team readied their Molotov 

cocktails.

 

"Three-two-one-CONTACT!" Cornwall shouted and each pitched their 

firebombs at different locations in the room. Then he fired a burst, 

full-auto at the whiskey which obligingly exploded in flames, dousing 

the hindmost snakes in flames.

 

The aliens not aflame tried to fire on the troopers but the exploding 

bottles and building flames made a clear shot impossible. The fire door 

slammed home behind them, and the only remaining exit was the one behind 

the troopers. The aliens paused, evaluated their situation, and then 

opened fire on the snakes that were ablaze, and then proceeded to shoot 

each other, until one was left. He made a universally understood rude 

gesture then pulled the pin on a wicked-looking device.

 

"RUN!" Cornwall screamed, slamming the fire-door closed behind them as 

they fled. An instant later, the explosion rocked the ship and the 

fire-door warped, but held. "Elvis in hipboots!" Cornwall slammed his 

hand on a wall-mounted communication box. "Come in command!"

 

"Go ahead Cornwall. Any casualties?"

 

"They're killing their own troops! They must be high!"

 

"Well that's good news -- snakes on crack."

 

***

 

"We have snakes at the gate," said Sparks, looking up at the entryway to 

the bridge. "There's at least twenty, and the soonest we can get anyone 

down here to take the heat off of us is five minutes. That's Cornwall's 

group. They just got finished using fire to--"

 

"Fire," slurred Tonk before a thought stunned her sober. "Fire! That's 

it! We need ice!"

 

"Actually sir, from what I've seen of this flier, I hold with those who 

favor fire," replied Sparks. "You're thinking laterally again, captain. 

Mind cluing us in before the snakes burn through the door?"

 

"I've got no time to make sense! Make sure everyone who's not wearing a 

suit gets into an environmentally sealed area, right now! Johanson, hit 

the environmental controls... I want it to be winter in July!"

 

"It's October, captain."

 

"Don't confuse me with the facts, Johanson, I told you I don't have time 

to make sense ! Just Nike it!"

 

"Yes ma'am!"

 

***

 

"Is it getting colder?" Clark asked, glancing up from his work on an 

impromptu stretcher to check his temperature gauge.

 

"I'm from Yellowknife," replied Weaving, miserably. "I didn't notice."

 

***

 

"Okay team, listen up. My group seems to have successfully made the 

snakes mad. Maybe they just don't care for chicken. Anyway, we have a 

cluster coming our way. They seem to be slowing down a bit from the cold."

 

"CCcant't s-s-ay I bloody well blame them for th-that." British 

Airwave's teeth chattered. "Roight. This chappie is as patched as I can 

make him."

 

"I could try to heal him..." TDSM offered.

 

"NO!" Harlan shouted, perhaps a bit too sharply. "Just get me to the 

medlab. Please."

 

TDSM shrugged and vaulted to the roof. Adams and Foxy took up defensive 

positions on the far side of the hangar, as British Airwave and an 

engineer carried the injured Trooper down another corridor towards the 

medlab.

 

"Heads up!" Spectrum shouted. "Lock and load. Foxy, TDSM, take the rear 

and we'll pincher them."

 

Foxy muttered. "I know there has to be a good joke there about pinching 

rears, but..."

 

Adams chuckled. "Dude, you said but, huh-huh."

 

Nikon Ninja's voice crackled over the comms. "Shaddup Beavis..."

 

Spectrum facepalmed in mock disgust. "Argh, the insanity is spreading."

 

"You sssay that like itsss a bad thing."

 

Sloth-like the aliens slithered in, firing wildly at anything that moved 

to try to make up for their reduced mobility. Spectrum vexed that notion 

by darting side to side, firing at the snakes before rolling for cover.

 

One of the Nintan felt a tap on its shoulder. Turning around, Foxy 

stood, holding a small sign. "STOP" Turning the sign around, the neatly 

lettered sign had an arrow pointing up and the words, "Look out!" The 

Nintan looked up, just in time to see an engine block come smashing 

down, followed by TDSM. Lithely leaping to one side, Foxy opened fire on 

another Nintan. "You find the most interesting things in a cargo hold."

 

Spectrum dashed between a pair of Nintan, blasting one and kicking the 

other's gun. The snake pulled a cutter from its belt, preparing to melee 

with Spectrum, only to be hit with an enormous armored hand that 

pile-driveled the armor-clad serpent into the deck. "Say hello to mah 

leetle fren!" Spectrum laughed and high fived the giant battlerabbit.

 

Whirling like a weed-whacker of death, TDSM laid waste to the slowing 

alien invaders, his talons tearing half the armor off one of them.

 

Over the commlink, Spectrum heard Sparks exult, "We've turned it around 

people; the snakes are dropping everywhere."

 

Another snake, damaged from a shot by Adams, pulled a wicked looking 

ball from its belt. Foxy shouted a warning as she carefully squeezed off 

a shot with her blaster, knocking the device from the alien's hand.

 

"Yes! Yes! Yes! What a shot!"

 

Murphy, being loath to reward premature self-praise, gave the alien team 

a nod as the grenade took a bad bounce, landing right next to the outer 

hangar door. "No! No! NO!" Foxy sprinted as far from the door as 

possible. Heads turned as a small hole was blown in the door, just large 

enough to create a spectacular explosive decompression vortex.

 

Snakes, crates, and debris whirled in the tornado of chaos. TDSM pounced 

on Foxy and webbed her to a bulkhead. Nikon Ninja merely planted his 

feet and the battlerabbit armor reached up and held onto a roof support. 

Adams, knocked from his feet by a tumbling snake, was sucked towards the 

hole.

 

"Damn!"

 

Spectrum turned and ran for the hole, trying to close the distance 

before Adams was drawn through. Adam's grabbed the edge of the hole, but 

the force was too much for his Tornado armor, and just a moment before 

Spectrum reached him, he was sucked into the void. Spectrum shouted, 

"Parker! You and TDSM seal the breech now."

 

"But..."

 

"Do it!"

 

Spectrum vanished through the hole.

 

"NOOOOOO!!" Foxy wailed weakly, wasting precious air. Spectrum had only 

a moment to reflect on the glorious deadly beauty of space, as he 

focused on the tumbling trooper ahead. Firing his weapons behind himself 

he managed to intercept the stunned soldier. Over the comms, he shouted, 

"Adams! Where is the nearest airlock?"

 

Adams pointed. "How are we gonna make it?"

 

"THIS IS SPECTRUM BROADCASTING A MAYDAY. MAN OVERBOARD! NEED HELP AT THE 

AIRLOCK!" Keying in the command into his suit, the external armor on his 

arm separated, and the awesomantium grappling hook fired, hitting its 

mark alongside the airlock hatchway.

 

"Which airlock?" A voice responded on the link.

 

"24B9" Adams responded. "Send a Damage Control team to the hangar, we 

have a hull breech!"

 

"Roger! Westy team reports they have a temporary patch in place already, 

air pressure already back to 87%"

 

In the corner, badly damaged from combat, lay one remaining warrior. 

Nikon Ninja emerged from the battle armor cockpit, and hit the intercom 

box on the wall. "Command, hangar repressurizing, send a security team, 

we have a captive."

 

TDSM moved in close to the fallen alien, one whose armor had been ripped 

open by him earlier. Inside the snakelike combat armor, an 

insectoid-looking creature twitched. Bits of fur and blood could be seen 

in cracks in the skin. Its chitin moved unevenly and the mandible on one 

side hung crookedly, and yet a faint voice could be heard, along with 

the crackle of a commlink.

 

"Swarm 3 destructed."

 

"Acknowledged. Are you functional?"

 

"Negative. I am helpless."

 

"Initiate protection mode." The commlink hissed.

 

"I...I cannot."

 

"You must! For the sake of the species!"

 

The warrior spat and coughed. "But you have seen the reports! Perhaps 

there can be peace between us. Some worship us! They could be made to 

understand!"

 

"Initiating remote activation."

 

"Forgive me litter-brother..."

 

"Until the great reunion."

 

The warrior started, realizing he had been heard... "FOR THE GLORY OF 

THE NIN-" His armor exploded, blowing TDSM across the hangar.

 

***

 

Clark wished that his Tornado outfit would let him wipe his brow. He 

shivered slightly as Trapdoor Spider Man grudgingly passed him another 

fallen girder to hold in place while the engineering squad scurried to 

patch it into place. The hideous superguy gave off the impression that 

he'd much rather feed on Clark's face and lay some sort of horrible eggs 

in what was left of the trooper's corpse than help with the after-action 

repairs; but Spectrum had been insistent and the half-man 

half-ohmyGODwhatisthat? seemed to respect the WCD leader's wishes well 

enough. Clark just hoped that those wishes included a no eating faces 

clause. He'd have to look into that after he was done here.

 

"Do you feel that?" said Clark, as he felt a rumble of vibration underfoot.

 

"Yesss," growled TDSM. "It'sss the feeling of a fly ssstepping on a 

ssstrand of web jussst before the ssspider russshesss in to kill and 

dessicate it for its sssweet, sssweet juicesss."

 

"Yeah, exactly," replied Clark. "I really hope it doesn't mean that 

we're under attack aga--"

 

The world outside the ship abruptly turned grey. Clark paused in his 

work to stare out a porthole at the dull, boring vista. It was the most 

beautiful sight that he'd seen in a long time.

 

"Damn," he said in a whisper. "They got it working again. We're back on 

our way."

 

"Frying panssss. Fire." growled the hideous manlike thing, gesturing for 

Clark to get back to work before he was forced to mutilate him and leave 

his corpse on the deck as a warning to others. Or at least that's how 

Clark interpreted the gesture.

 

"Maybe," replied Clark, moving to take another girder. He grinned, 

lifting the beam up. "But at least it's a fire that I haven't seen before!"

 

"You're insssane."

 

"Yup." He turned to take the next beam, flashing a wink through his 

helmet's faceplate. "It's a job requirement."

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