Overrun: Project Hideaway (30 page)

"RadCom, I want you to take
control of that ship," the captain said again pressing his head against
the holovid transmitter. His face filled its tiny screen. "And get it the
hell out of here. We’ll engage and buy you some time."

"But captain, the size
of..." RadCom stammered.

Before he could finish, a loud
buzzing came from the monitors on his lap. The green baseline indicator started
shifting up and down. It moved only slightly, but what it monitored was there.
A definite reading in the ship's controls. A slight extra surge of energy
guarding against unauthorized access to the Hideaway controls.

"Son of a fucking
bitch!" RadCom swore violently. His voice echoed loudly about the small
cabin.

On the holovid, RadCom heard the
crew reporting to the captain all stations were now primed and ready to fire.

"Captain!" RadCom
screamed at the holovid screen. "You should see the size from out here!
They more than outgun you! Jesus Christ! Don't provoke a fight! Good God,
don't..."

"RadCom, do as I fucking
say!" the captain turned amidst the chaos of the command center to face
the holovid screen again. "Get the fuc...!"

"The whole thing is
synchronized! I just got the reading! This fucking ship's going nowhere!"
RadCom shrieked. "Don't fire! Repeat! Don't fire!"

The captain held up his hand.
The men waited behind him at their stations.

And then rockets from the
mammoth J.G.U. ship finally flew. Three large weapon surges lashed out from the
large attack ship's nose. The first cut across the frigate’s engine
compartments ripping most of those sections and the crew stationed there into
deep space.

The second flight of fired
weaponry tore into the frigate's main weapons area. The third obliterated the
front of the frigate. Only jagged hunks of metal stuck into space where the
command center used to be.

RadCom covered his eyes with
both hands against the blinding flash of the three simultaneous explosions. The
Hideaway shook from the nearby blast and the bombardment of debris pummeling
against its hull. Sirens wailed throughout its halls.

The massive J.G.U. ship loomed
over the frigate. Its weapons were still. There was no need for a second
assault. The frigate and its crew were dead.

Only one survivor remained.

RadCom stared out the cockpit
window at the destroyed frigate. His hands rested in his lap away from the
controls he could not operate. At least not without bringing the same
destruction to himself and the prized Beam Cannon Hardware it contained.

RadCom stared out into space and
just tried to think.

RadCom sat for a moment in the
cockpit of the Hideaway. His eyes focused on the looming J.G.U. battleship.

His mind was blank. Completely
emptied by the shock of its sudden appearance, the attack on the frigate, and
the readings that were now coming across the energy monitors on his lap.

It was very faint. But it was
there.

Excess energy flowed across
nearly every computer terminal and flight control of the ship. The only thing
not rigged to respond to only the hands of the pilot were the communications
controls.

RadCom was sitting in a suicide
room. If he had attempted to maneuver the Hideaway to defend against the small
fighter attack or had tried to run power into anything, he would have been dead
right now.

Like the rest of his crew.

The Beam Cannon Hardware would
now be nothing more than cosmic mist. Ripped to shreds by the explosives
controlled by small amounts of energy now bled through the cockpit controls he
sat within.

Leaving the world forever
different.

RadCom lowered the monitors on
his lap to the floor and carefully moved from his seat. He slowly untangled
himself from the pilot station and backed out of the cockpit. He was careful
not to jar or nudge anything.

He pushed the two system energy
monitors out behind him with his heels into the corridor past the threshold.
Through the command window in front of him, he watched the J.G.U. warship float
within the debris of his former ship.

RadCom kept moving the monitors
with the rear of his feet until they were all the way out in the corridor. When
they were out, he stepped carefully from the cockpit.

When he had fully crossed the
entranceway and stood outside, he raised a shaky hand and hit the switch near
the door. The cockpit sealed itself with a gentle swish.

RadCom stood there for a moment
just looking at the door. His mind raced at what now he could possibly do.

It would only be a matter of
time before the J.G.U. tried to board the Hideaway and attempt to access the
cargo hold. And once they did, there wouldn't be much left to worry about. They
would all be gone, scattered into the cosmic winds with the shattered remnants
of Earth's destroyed moon.

RadCom just hoped they didn't
find him first.

He turned around towards the
corridor into which he planned to make his retreat. He had no idea where it
led.

Sirens blared across the ship.
Warning lights in the walls and ceiling indicated breaches in the hull,
explosion readings, and unauthorized attempts at mainframe network access. The
lights and sounds were maddening. They intruded on his shock and impeded his
ability to think.

He grabbed the two devices at
his feet. With a scream of rage, frustration and fear, he swung them over his
head against the ceiling. They shattered across some of the flashing lights and
silenced the sirens raging down that section of the passage.

Sparks and pieces of the
destroyed devices fell across his head. Jagged metal, glass, and inner
components dropped down around his feet. He grabbed the cords trailing from the
back of their metal frames and hoisted up what was left.

With a final shriek of rage, he
hurled them down the corridor where they left large dents along two of its
walls.

Sirens and lights still wailed
angrily from the end of the hall. RadCom reached into the holster just above
his left knee and pulled his sidearm. Clutching it with both hands and
extending his arms outward, he walked further down the corridor until it
branched off into three different directions.

Before stepping into the
intersection, he pressed his back against the wall and opened the Sunszk’s
ammunition chamber. Satisfied the clip was completely full, he moved again from
the side of the corridor.

His arms still outstretched, he
stepped away from the small enclosed corridor leading from the cockpit into the
more open area of passageways stretching throughout the ship. He pulled the
Sunszk's firing mechanism out to its ready position and set out to ascertain
the condition of the Hideaway.

Now, he sought mostly only a way
to save himself. And escape the J.G.U.

The Hideaway’s cargo was no
longer in his power to defend. Only the pilot that had activated its
signaturization process could save it now. And for all RadCom knew, that pilot
was dead. Killed when his copilot went down or destroyed a few minutes later
with the explosion of the frigate.

RadCom didn’t care. His only
goal now was to escape the J.G.U. and take his chances back on Earth.

He set off down the corridor in
the direction he hoped was the docking area where the Hideaway pilots had
boarded the small attack fighters. He prayed the Hideaway carried one more
small craft to sneak away unnoticed into space.

With his chest heavy and the
senses in his head light, he rounded the passage corner contemplating what he
would do if a third smaller ship did really exist and how he would elude the
J.G.U. when he made his escape attempt.

And if there wasn't a ship, and
he really was stranded, RadCom planned to decide then how he would end his own
life.

He dropped his weapon to his
side and rounded another corner trying to keep his arm from banging against the
metal of the close passage walls. The corridor turned another ninety degrees
right and stretched deeper again into the rearmost areas of the ship.

RadCom slowed a bit around still
another corner and then increased his stride when he found a straight section
of passageway.

He started to raise his weapon
again and improve his pace when a loud crash came from over his head.

When RadCom looked up, a body
crashed through the ceiling. With arms and legs flailing, it smashed down
across his arm and knocked him to the ground. The man’s weight plus the extra
force from the fall ground the tip of RadCom’s shoulder blade hard into the
metal deck.

RadCom shrieked in pain. He
raised his head and tried to see through the agony coursing through his body
from his shoulder. His vision just started to focus again when a bloody fist
crashed into his face.

The entire corridor became a
near senseless blur.

A set of hands jerked him by the
top of his head back towards the passage wall.

Not even sure if he still held a
weapon, RadCom raised his hand. An additional bolt of pain flashed at his
wrist. He saw the barrel of his Sunszk sail end-over-end across the room and clatter
across the floor.

He felt himself lifted into the
air by powerful arms. They pulled him up and steadied him.

When RadCom regained his balance
across his feet, he looked into the eyes of the man that held him. He didn’t
wear the uniform of a J.G.U. soldier or officer.

RadCom could only assume he was
staring into the face of one of the Hideaway pilots. The only man that could
helm the controls of the ship and save RadCom's life.

"Who are you?!" the
man screamed. The figure had turned him and held him painfully hard at his
side.

RadCom then felt the weight of
his body leave his feet. Propelled by the fury of the man’s large powerful
arms, his body flew through the air and landed hard across the metal deck.

He laid there facedown and
sprawled across his stomach. The coolness of the steel floor felt soothing
against his bruised cheek.

A thin line of blood trickled
from his nose. And again he felt his head jerked roughly back. His attacker
pressed his fist firmly into the small of RadCom’s back. The jagged sharpness
of a piece of metal scraped lightly across the front of his neck.

RadCom’s breath was cut off in a
gasp at the base of his throat. He reached up trying to grab at the man holding
him. The sharpness of the jagged metal pressed harder against his skin.

Blood seeped from a spot just
below his larynx. His legs kicked helplessly out behind him between the legs of
his attacker.

"Who are you?!" the
voice demanded again.

"Can you pilot the
ship?" RadCom wheezed through the grip around his throat.

The arms holding him tightened.
For a moment, RadCom's sight faded to a dull gray and then black. The pain in
his shoulder disappeared. He felt his arms drop to his side.

"My copilot is dead,” the
man holding him hissed in his ear. “And you are an unauthorized boarder on my
ship. I want to know who the fuck you are before I let you go. So don't die on
me before I do."

RadCom's body hung limply.

He felt the arms holding him
start to shake. He could feel his attacker’s rapid breathing across the back of
his neck.

"Who are you?!" the
voice said again louder and more panicked in pitch.

The grip around RadCom's neck
tightened making the room in front of him fade again away.

His body acting without guidance
from his mind, RadCom dropped his arms to the belt at his side. His long
fingers disappeared beneath the material of his assault gear while his
assailant tightened his grip.

His own arms and shoulders
starting to shake violently from pain, anger and fear, RadCom brought his hand
back out.

In the base of his sweaty palm,
he held his last concussion grenade.

The pressure around his throat
then slightly lessened.

"You want us both to die
here?" the voice rasped again.

"With them out there…,”
RadCom wheezed. “…with them out there, we’re both going to die anyway. Wouldn’t
you say that’s right?"

He flicked his finger across the
device causing two lights near its top to blink. He closed his fingers and
curled his palm across its arming lever. He then lowered his arms as far down
as he could between his legs out of reach of his assailant.

Out of reach at least while he
still maintained his hold around RadCom’s neck.

For the next few moments,
neither man moved. RadCom doubled over at his knees. His attacker crouched over
him across his back.

RadCom stretched his arms as far
away from his body as his limbs would allow keeping the grenade just out of
reach of the man holding him.

"I just want to know who
you are." This time the voice seemed to softly plead.

RadCom released the grenade and
let it drop to the floor. It made a dull clink when it bounced against the deck
between his legs. The two lights blinked faster across its surface as the
activated device worked to arm itself.

The hands around his neck
released their grip.

While RadCom slowly edged away,
his assailant punched him hard at the center of his back.

RadCom dropped forward to the
ground and sprawled across the device readying itself to explode. His attacker
turned and sprinted down the nearest corridor.

RadCom reached to pull the
grenade from beneath his body. He rolled over and hurled it down the hall after
him.

Pain coursed through the muscles
of his arm from the force of his throw.

Everything ceased to matter at
this point. Excruciating jabs of pain ripped through his body. He felt his eyes
roll to the back of his head.

Outside, the image of the J.G.U.
ship still hovered in plain view.

Through the corner of his eye,
RadCom saw the small device bounce once down to the end of the corridor.

The man who held him dove around
the corner of the next hall. The grenade rolled after him at his heels. Its
metal casing tapped against the steel floor and rang dully down the empty
passage.

RadCom rolled across his stomach
and covered his head with his arms.

The device then erupted into a
large fiery blast.

The walls on either side of the
far corridor crumbled to the ground like they were made of sand. The floor fell
in on top of itself and disappeared deeper into the depths of the ship.

The floor grating beneath RadCom
tilted towards the gaping hole in the middle of the deck. His body slid along
its decline and followed the wreckage down.

RadCom reached out through the
pain of his injuries and snagged a piece of the shattered deck an instant
before his ragged form toppled through. He dangled in the air by one arm from a
thin piece of twisted metal. It was the only thing that kept him from falling
through the three levels of the ship the concussion grenade had ripped its way
through.

For what seemed like an
eternity, RadCom hung there while the damage from the blast settled about. The
piece of destroyed deck he clung to twisted under his weight and began to bend.

RadCom didn't allow his mind or
body to react. He just tried to keep his weight from shifting and putting more
pressure on the piece of shredded metal. He slowly raised his head. The metal
curled further in on itself, but for the moment did not break.

A bead of sweat rolled slowly
down his cheek.

Bouncing his weight slightly,
RadCom threw his free arm into the air.

His palm slid across a piece of open
grate still attached to the main floor, and his fingers managed to clamp
themselves through its small openings. The metal piece he clutched to with his
other arm finally snapped and fell to the ground.

Hanging on
with only his fingers, RadCom dangled from the floor grate of the destroyed
deck.

With a grunt, he swung his other
arm around and jammed his feet up against a large piece of the shredded
corridor wreckage.

His arms and fingers screamed
with pain. Even in the darkness, his knuckles glowed white from the strain.
Clinging for life by both arms, he used his legs to maneuver himself from the
hole. With a final push, his shoulders cleared the deck.

He used his elbows to haul his
battered frame the rest of the way from the opening in the obliterated floor.
When his legs finally swung back up on level ground, he rolled over on his
back. His lungs gasped, and his body tried to rock away the pain.