Chain Reaction - (Deathclaws x NOP) Chapter 2

I'm glad to see that Chapter 1 got a good reaction from quite a few people. Here's hoping I can continue to deliver.

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Memory transcription subject: Captain Cyrus of the Terran Reclamation Committee

Date [standardized human time]: July 12, 2136

As silent as the void was, it was even more quiet inside the Atom.   All morning there had been an ever escalating buildup of anticipation and hype as we neared what we now knew to be Venlil Prime.  It took less than an hour for all our hopes to be dashed.  All we were left with was questions and the distinct impression that something monstrous might lurk in the void.  We had debriefed the crew, and sent long-range communications back to Terra, but it would be hours before we heard anything back.  

Until we were recalled back, a scenario that was no longer out of the question, we still had a mission, so we had plotted a course to the next star system on our mission plan.  More accurately, it was the third system after the Venlil Prime System - I had made the decision that we were not going to venture to other systems that seemed to be relaying communications with Venlil Prime.  We currently don't have a way to translate their languages or coding without the Venlil themselves.  I have some of our crew working on trying to reverse engineer a translation software from the communication we do have, but it was going to take time, and be quite spotty.  

For the rest of us, we just had empty space and our thoughts, and in my case, reports.  Lots and lots of reports, naturally as soon as we sent off the first communication back home, I thought of everything else I should have included in the first wave.  

—------ Time advances six hours later, the same day.  Reason: uneventful —---------

We were entering the next system - 6.1-36.783, and we were both relieved and saddened to find no artificial structures in the system on our initial scan.  Binary star system, three planets - one lava planet closest to the suns, one terrestrial slightly further out and a gas giant in the mid range.  What drew our attention to this system was the asteroid belt between the 2nd and 3rd planet, which long range scans indicated may have a large concentration of heavy metals ripe for mining.  

“Slow to approach vector, reroute power to sensors.  Science team, you have the helm.” I ordered.  It was not nearly as impactful an order as the ones I had given earlier this day, but we had assumed most systems we entered would be barren, so these were the procedures most practiced.  The minutes passed as we began to collect geological data on the asteroid belt.

Then, everything went sideways for the second time that day.  We had a brief blip of a warning as one of the smaller nearby asteroids suddenly changed course and accelerated, crashing into our engines.  Everything shook violently throughout the ship, and alarms began to blare throughout the ship.  “Red alert.  Enemy action.  Damage report.” I bellowed into comms, as I clawed my way back to my feet from my ready room.  

Thankfully the response from engineering was immediate.  “Minor hull damage.  Power surge rendered propulsion systems inoperable.  Initiating restart.  ETA: 7 minutes.”  The news itself was not good however.  

Entering the bridge, I found the crew thankfully accounted for with only the same minor bumps and scrapes I had.   “Astrometrics, are scanners operational?” 

“Mostly.  Some sensors on the starboard side are unresponsive.” 

“Maintain sweep of the asteroid belt, disregard composition, monitor vectors, and report any anomalies immediately.”

“Aye Captain!”

“Weapons free.  Fire on any object that deviates from the expected path.  Maximum yield.  Open hailing frequencies, standard handshake protocol.” Our weapons systems were unlikely to be able to navigate the asteroid belt successfully, but close counts with horseshoes and hand-grenades, and these were very large hand grenades.  For the next few minutes the bridge was full of constant chatter about the condition of the ship & crew.  

“--Change in course detected!  Object on approach vector!”

“No response from hails!”

“Fire!” I ordered.

“Torpedoes away! Thirty seconds until impact!”

It felt like hours passed between each beat of my heart as we all watched the missiles speed toward their quarry.  But their signal cut out before impact.  

“Negative impact.  Target still on approach vector.”

“They mean to board us.” I said aloud as the realization came to me.  “To arms!”   

There was another flurry of activity as weapons were handed out, and power armor suited up.  Technically these were exosuits, rather than strict power armor; they were intended for space walks and hostile environments, but old world paranoia paid extra attention to the world “hostile”.  If we survived this, the crew deserved a commendation, we were ready within sixty seconds.  The good news is that with such a small ship, there was a surplus of choke points to stall any advance.  The bad news is that the quarters were cramped enough that we could barely fit two people into a line of fire at a time.  

“They’ve changed course, lining up with our airlock.  Brace for impact, 16 seconds.” called Deeja over comms.  She had the bridge to coordinate our efforts; I had the vanguard.  We scrambled into position from the last minute change and waited.  The ship shook with the impact, which was actually significantly more gentle than I expected.  They seemed to not want to damage the ship too badly.  

The ship was constructed such that immediately inside the airlock there was a four way intersection.  If they went left or right, at the first intersection they would only find unoccupied crew quarters, as the occupants were currently preparing to shoot at the intruders.  But if the intruders went straight, they would come to a T-turn, left would send them perilously close to engineering, and right would be the main thoroughfare for the rest of the ship.  As such, I was posted to their right at the first intersection, wielding our only gatling laser.  We had enough old world paranoia to arm everyone aboard the ship, but right now, I was wishing we had more.  

A low grumbling groan built throughout the ship, steadily increasing in pitch as the airlock door was wretched out of position.  And then, there they stood; the first aliens I had ever seen in the flesh.  They were raggedy and wretched things.  Humanoid and scaled like us, but gaunt and gray.  Wearing more snarls than clothes, they rushed forward firing laser blasts to keep us pinned in position.  Over the cacophony of blaster fire, clawed feet on steel, I could make out a few key phrases hissed from the lizards: “Charge!” “Attack!” “Feast!” and similar set the tone.  I responded in kind “OPEN FIRE!”

I laid down suppressing fire, cutting down the first few over-eager lizards that tried to gain access to our ship by blindly rushing in.  The remaining lizards got wise to our strategy, taking cover and returning fire, trying to find an opening where they could rush in as we traded shots back and forth.  Unfortunately their moment came when I needed to reload.  Down our biggest gun, the lizards rushed into the fray.  

My crew got off a few pot shots, but in an instant the largest of the lizards I had seen thus far sprinted to my alcove, and practically tackled the gatling laser out of my hand as they skidded to a halt in the side passage.  They swung a clawed hand at my neck, I narrowly dodged it with a half step deeper into the alcove.  We locked eyes, and they faltered for just a moment.  In that moment, I lunged forward, sunk my claws into their chest and ripped them apart; my triumphant roar reverberated off the bloody walls, hanging in the air like so much bloodied mist. 

I reentered the fray in the corridor, and caught the lizards mid-advance. I threw the corpse of the lizard I had just eviscerated across the hallway, smashing another invading lizard into the opposing wall with a satisfying crunch.  A second lizard in the hallway had thrown themselves to the ground to get out of the way of the improvised projectile that was their former crewmate.  

They looked up at me in dawning horror “Pred-Predator!”  I was beginning to hate that word.  

My claws sunk into their leg as I dragged them literally kicking and screaming into the hallway before I ripped open their throat.  That lizard became my second improvised projectile, this time aiming for the other lizards that had set up positions at our airlock.  My aim was off, so the body merely sailed through the open passage rather than striking the lizards directly.  It did have the desired effect however, as the lizards screamed and bolted from their position, tramping at least one of their own.

“RUN THEM DOWN!” I roared to my crew, and a chorus of roars filled the air.  I lunged forth, chasing after the lizards on all fours.  I carved a bloody path into the alien ship.  My armor turned aside most blaster fire, and the cocktail of chems and stims my armor was injecting me with kept me moving forward even when my armor was penetrated.  It was quickly apparent that the overall tactics of the lizards were terrible.  More than once I moved through a choke point uncontested.  They had numbers, but never seemed to coordinate their efforts, and even seemed to impede their own when retreating, like being on the defensive was a novel concept to them.  They didn’t even seem to coordinate with one another - they seemed to scream in terror just as much as they tried to use words. 

Deeja would coordinate our overall movements as we mapped the enemy vessel. Our goal was the enemy bridge.  Engineer Syk was already sabotaging their docking mechanism to ensure they couldn’t pull away from our vessel, but we didn’t want to risk them shooting our ship despite the risk.  My role was agitator - run into their ranks, sow chaos and prevent them from forming a solid defense.  My current quarry was the lizard that had just gone skittering around the corner, breaking off from the rest of the pack.  

I ran after them, tracing them by the scrambling noise their claws made on the metal flooring.  I caught sight of them as they were frantically fumbling with a mechanism next to a sealed door as I barrelled toward them.  The door suddenly opened, and the lizard dashed inside, making to close the door behind them, but they were too late.  “Wait!” they tried to cry out, but it was too late as I crashed through the frame of the door, and into the lizard as my momentum carried the both of us to the opposing wall with a satisfying crunch.  Before the lizard could recover, I lifted them above my head, dug my claws into their abdomen, one under their ribs, the other above their pelvis and pulled them apart with a violent jerk as the tension was released from their snapping spine.  I was showered in blood, gore and entrails.  

Even through all that blood, the offal stench alerted me to what else was in this room before any other senses.  It was a massive room, far longer than wide, and the largest I had seen thus far on the alien craft.  Most of the room was dominated by steel bars, cells if you wanted to be humane, cages if you wanted to be accurate.  I stood lock still as my eyes bored into those cages.  Huddled together into the furthest, filthiest corners were a handful of beaten and half-starved venlil.  In the adjacent cages, the pattern repeated with another alien species, this one with an abundance of quills, and then another fuzzy alien next to them.  They trembled, they shivered, and they reeked of fear.  One word came to mind:  Prey.

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