Construction tunnel, the Arena, Prasinos system
Andy could see a huge grin on Quaid’s face in the control room as he led the other twenty fighters out of the airlock in a symphony of screaming antigravs.
‘Anywhere particular up there you’d like us to start?’ Andy asked, above the din, as they filed past and up the vertical shaft.
‘Capital city,’ he answered. ‘Where you saw the egg layers and around the elevators. I think they’re trying to rebuild all that again. Probably doing the same in the hangar at the bottom of the elevators too.’
Andy led them up into the warehouse and through the already open doors. He could see smoke still rising from where the diversion was, but turned in the opposite direction and headed for their largest city.
A kilometre from the outskirts they spread out and descended to about fifty feet. Andy instructed them to ignore the odd lone bugs. Conor’s soldiers could pick those off as they followed along behind. He wanted to get straight in to where he hoped the layers were.
He was not disappointed. Hordes of bugs seethed around the elevator building and as they approached, Andy could see there were two lines, one line going in carrying eggs and another coming out empty-handed.
‘I think they’re carrying the eggs down the shaft manually this time,’ he said. ‘You guys get stuck in here, I’m going to follow the line of eggs. The layers aren’t out in the open here this time, I’ll call you when I find them.’
‘Understood,’ came the reply from both wing leaders.
Andy turned out of the line of fighters and followed the egg carriers meandering through the blocks of downtown buildings. He decided not to attack these as yet, so it didn’t give them advance warning and they hid the layers away again.
They led him several kilometres out of mid-town and to a more industrial region where they disappeared inside what looked like a huge distribution building of some kind. He smiled and brought his cannons online.
‘You’re not getting away this time,’ he said, firing a barrage of laser bolts at the entrance where they were streaming in and out.
His smile soon disappeared as the bolts dissipated around the building in a multi-coloured lightning display.
‘Bastards have a shield…where did they get that?’ he grouched, as intermittent fire came back at him from the surrounding buildings.
His shields flared wildly and he was forced to veer away and accelerate. He didn’t have his array so he couldn’t lock onto any of the shooters. Turning, he dived back towards where the fire had come from and sprayed bolts manually, causing some of the surrounding industrial units to explode.
A sudden bang from underneath thrust his seat into him and his chin bounced off his chest. Momentarily dazed as the ship shuddered from the impact, he clipped an overhanging pylon arm. The fighter slewed around and cut a deep furrow in the side of a building, which caused it to spin out of control and smash into a truck parked between the industrial building and a small reservoir.
The mini-me came to a rest upside down leaning against a smaller ground car of some kind.
‘Fuck…fuck,’ was all Andy could muster. He was in a world of pain and when he smelt smoke he began to panic. ‘Shit, anything but fire,’ he shrieked. Looking up, he stretched to release the canopy. It dropped open about halfway until it met the ground. ‘Bollocks,’ he shouted, releasing his belts and slumping down onto his head into the part-open canopy.
He grimaced in pain as he wriggled his way around to the widest open point. The smoke was increasing and a small flicker of flame began licking around in the bottom of the cockpit. That certainly focused his attention, as he began forcing himself through the small gap as quickly as he could. He swore again as something snagged around his waist. It was his laser rifle hanging out of its cradle. Having to pull himself back up again was a struggle, but the flames now flicking around his boots gave him a big incentive to get rid of the weapon.
He slid it out of its holder and threw it outside. Now able to wriggle free of the canopy and away from the flames, he felt a surge of exhilaration. His feet were hot and he could smell the rubber of his boots melting.
Suddenly, he was being dragged away from the wreck from under his armpits and a low boom sounded from inside the ship as something flammable ignited and flames poured from underneath where the missile rack was situated. The cockpit was now a sea of fire. Waking up to the fact he was in enemy territory, he craned his neck to see who was pulling him to safety.
He breathed a sigh of relief as he found two human faces staring down at him with blank expressions.
‘You are safe now,’ one of them said in a monotone voice and Andy’s blood ran cold. These were brainwashed Arenians and not Conor’s men.
He forced a smile so as not to give away he knew and sat up. Glancing back at the fighter, he realised his rifle was engulfed in flames. His right foot and ankle were extremely painful and as he tried to stand his ankle gave way with a wave of pain.
‘Ahh, shit,’ he cried, sitting back on the road hard. ‘Bastard ankle’s bust.’
Gritting his teeth as the worst of the pain subsided slightly, he felt down his right side and found his pistol was still there. Turning his body away from them he unclipped the holster
‘We carry you inside,’ the monotone man said, moving around him.
He decided to continue with the pretence of not knowing they were the enemy.
‘Oh, yes please,’ he said. ‘This road’s very col…’
A huge explosion knocked him flat on his back as the missile rack detonated. The two humans were slammed into the wall of the nearby building. He rolled himself into a ball as flaming wreckage of the ship flew in all directions, some impacting the wall and dropping over and around him.
‘Shit, shit, shit,’ he shouted, shoving bits away from him and patting his clothes where they had ignited. He felt the hair on the back of his hands singe and standing as best and quickly as he could, he hopped across to the reservoir, slumped down and splashed water over himself.
‘Fuck’s sake,’ he griped, as his clothing hissed. ‘What a pisser of a day.’ He glanced back at the other two. They lay very still and the clothes on one of them were alight.
He froze as a rattling sound he recognised reached him. Turning his head slowly, he realised his day was going to get a whole lot worse.