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Authors: J. R. Karlsson

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BOOK: phil jones2
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Darwin blinked, then continued as if he hadn't heard it. 'Excellent then, do you have a ship?'

Smith nodded. 'Our crew stand ready for departure, we need just make it back to the wreck of the Scavanger. Are there any other survivors?'

'No other survivors man, we should get moving before our pursuit learns how to climb logs.'

A thudding sound stopped them dead in their tracks, followed by a familiar roar of discontent.

'Oh no.' was what Hawkins tried to say, what actually came out was some form of high-pitched gibbering that signified the same sentiment.

The trunk was lifted high over the muscular beast's head with a giant heave, then split in twain and tossed to the side of the jungle path, sending smaller trees to the earth as if it were crushing blades of grass.

Smith stepped forward and planted his feet firmly into the tangled weave of the jungle floor.

'Run.' he said simply, then engaged the gun mounted on his shoulder.

The beam did not diverge from its projected course this time, hammering against the pink monster who snarled in fury as the attack impacted directly upon its gut. There was no explosion though, instead the thick carapace of the creature seemed to harden and swell around the beam as if gorging itself upon the energy directed toward it.

'Stop firing!' Trigger shouted at Smith, who didn't seem to hear him over the cacophony of the blast.

Nobody ever listened to him. Oh well, on his own head be it!

With a clear goal now in mind, Trigger broke into a flat sprint, much faster than the simple running that he had been doing to keep alongside Darwin. He tore away at high speed and left the explosions and chaos behind him.

That was until he tripped up on an upturned root that he hadn't spotted in his path. He was sent sprawling to the jungle floor and only righted himself in time to see Captain Darwin flying past him at a surprisingly fast pace. It would seem that the Captain's speed was a sensible precaution for Trigger, even if it was flat out for that man.

He caught up with his commanding officer in short order and kept his eyes firmly on the path ahead, trying his best to stifle the growing sense of terror at what was happening to the beast that Smith had shot at. The fact that the stampeding had just started once more didn't help matters.

His eyes flitted up ahead briefly and he caught sight of three other suited figures also running from the oncoming rush of alien bodies. They would need an army to deal with these things, he only hoped that Star Command had sent one.

Then the figures stopped and turned as one, they had given up retreating. If they weren't going to get back to the ship in time then there was no way Trigger and Darwin were.

He saw the flashes of light before he heard the laser fire, but there weren't any bolts coming from ahead of them, the action was from behind.

'That Smith fellow is holding them back with his pistol somehow.' Darwin remarked, having hazarded a look back. 'Good show, shame we won't make it to the ship in time.'

Then the world went white, Trigger went deaf and when he next looked he had been tossed fifty feet into the air.

'Uh-oh.'

 

Chapter 18

Motown! Roaraneese! ENGAGED!

P
hil watched aghast as the bodies of the Scavanger survivors came crashing down to the earth with a crunch. It looked altogether far too painful, but it was the only way to distract himself from the blinding light that had just discharged a short distance away from him.

'Move! Move! Move!' screamed Smith as he went careening into him. 'Jones, get to the ship, now!'

All pretence of command had been lost in the heat of the moment as a frazzled Smith picked himself up and readjusted his shades.

Phil looked back at where the people he had seen thrown up in the air had landed, there was no sign of them.

'Jones, we don't have time to search for the others. Get to the ship, now!'

He picked himself up as quickly as possible and started to haul his body after Smith, not daring to ask what had happened to the rest of the crew, or the aliens.

'Hanniman, this is Smith, prep the ship for launch immediately!' he yelled into a discarded helmet that he had picked up. Phil didn't have time to wonder who it had previously belonged to or what happened to them.

He watched as the man cast it aside in frustration, clearly the comm system must have been blown out by the explosion he had caused. Hanniman had no way of knowing that they were coming, he just hoped that the Engineer had kept the ship primed and ready as Smith had suggested.

A roar cut through the chaos and made Phil's legs simultaneously move much quicker than before and turn to jelly. As a result he collapsed onto the jungle floor yet again, and this time nobody was stopping for him.

Turning his head and fully expecting to be trampled by a horde of pink aliens, he instead sighted something high above the trees.

It was as if someone had pumped an alien full of steroids, and blown it up to ten times the size. The only incongruity with the terrifying features was the strangely shortened trunk that hung limply from its face.

'Arrggghhh!' Phil promptly observed, trying to gather his feet underneath him once more.

'Rarrrrrggggghhh!' responded the beast, though he wasn't quite sure if it had seen him yet and was replying directly to his shout.

Then Annika was there, her flowing locks freed from her helmet and covered in twigs and dust. 'Captain, we have to get back to the ship and away from that thing!'

Phil nodded dumbly as she helped heave him to his feet, he certainly wasn't going to argue with that assessment.

The creature had started hurling trees in all directions and was generally causing rampant destruction. It was a matter of time before it either sighted them and crushed them or inadvertently did so with the debris it was flinging about.

Phil and Annika ran after Smith, there was still no sign of RJ or the Scavanger survivors, they would have to fend for themselves under such conditions.

They rounded a final bend and just as Phil thought he couldn't stagger any further, there was the clearing and the ship, the ramp already open and Smith hurrying up it.

The thrum of the engines signalled Hanniman's priming for take-off, they had made it just in time. What of the others though, could they really take off without them?

He collapsed upon the solid ramp and started crawling his way slowly forward, so long as he could just make the ship then everything would be okay, right?

He turned back and watched the carnage unfold, pink bodies splattered everywhere in piles of strange sticky goo and the thudding footsteps of the giant creature they had seen before. With a shock, he realised that the height of the thing meant he could watch its agonising progress around the bend, as its snarling head and shoulders towered over the treetops. Still there was no sign of RJ and the survivors, had they been eaten or killed already?

Idly Phil thought to himself that RJ and The Survivors sounded like a good name for a Motown group, then dismissed the thought as inappropriate.

To his amazement, the splattered goo had started to solidify and form into the aliens once more. Apparently the beast's errant limbs were not fatal to its kinsmen, though they did look even angrier than before at having been splattered over the jungle. Phil could hazard as guess as to who they were planning on taking that anger out on, and didn't want to stay on this accursed planet much longer to find out.

Though these newly-formed creatures were adamant about getting their revenge for this perceived slight, they kept clear of the lumbering feet of the monstrous beast and instead tried to hem in the path that the thing was taking. It became clear to him now, the large one was definitely chasing something.

Three small figures, one of them sporting a cowboy hat and two others that looked dead on their feet, were making their way toward the ramp that Phil sat upon.

He spoke into the helmet in the most authoritative tone he could muster, in the hopes that those in the cockpit would hear him. 'I've spotted RJ and the survivors, they're being pursued by that... thing. Stall the launch sequence until they're on-board.'

Annika's voice came back. 'Captain, if we stall for them then that big beast is going to make a real mess of our hull, we might not get off the ground at all.'

'You have your orders, Lieutenant. Get Smith back down here to lay some cover fire, we need all the help we can get.'

Faintly he could hear Smith raging in the background at that decision, demanding that Annika belay that order and take off immediately before they were all killed. Annika quite clearly refused him, speaking directly into the comm as she did so. 'No, I'm not going to abandon them.'

Smith was still grumbling under his breath as he made his way back down to the ramp. 'I hope you know what you're doing.' he said, taking aim with his pistol and blowing off the head of one of the pink aliens that had got a little too close.

'I need you to unlock my pistol and give me a plasma rifle.' Phil stated to the man.

Smith did a double take and then let out a very deep sigh. 'Mr. Jones, while all the old sayings do suggest that your help would be of benefit in these circumstances, I feel inclined to tell you that we already have multiple ways that the ship could be torn apart. I do not plan on... facilitating another.'

The pink glove cut off all circulation to Phil's hand at that statement. Apparently it was rather important that he not let his second in command get his own way on this.

In a voice that wasn't his own, Phil responded. 'Agent Smith, that was not a request, it was a command. Now you will give me a functional weapon or I shall wrestle one off you, understood?'

Smith looked on with confusion and suspicion mixing over his face, he looked ready to fight Phil over such a request and Phil had no illusions about how combat would go against his security officer. Then as if the idea had been his all along, Smith acquiesced by silently handing him a plasma rifle before tapping an array of buttons on Phil's pistol and disabling the safety.

'I hope you know what you're doing, Captain Jones.' he reiterated. These were his only words, barely audible over the laser fire he kept discharging.

'So do I.' Phil muttered, noticing the considerable easing of the glove on his hand.

The pistol turned out to be ridiculously simple to use. Point, aim, shoot. He had braced for the inevitable recoil he had expected to tear his shoulder off but there was none.

A white blast of laser exploded from the tip of his gun with a satisfying sound, completely obliterating the pile of leaves that it had been aimed at without remorse.

Oh well, there was always next time.

He discharged several other shots at the fast-paced pink creatures, each time his aim was hopelessly wide. Had Smith deliberately disabled the targeting system so he couldn't hurt anyone? It was a life-or-death situation, the Agent couldn't be that cold-hearted, could he?

Phil continued to blast away ineffectively at the pink targets that were attempting to swarm over RJ and his companions. They were drawing closer to the ship's ramp now and that drew some hidden reserves of energy that forced them to keep one step ahead of their angry pursuit. It was going to be very close indeed, even at this rate.

Seeing that its compatriots were beginning to fall behind, the monster let out a blood-curdling roar and doubled its gargantuan strides, no longer looking to snatch up and eat its prey but simply squash it.

Already flat out, the roar had no effect on the pace of RJ, but the smaller whippet of a man with an afro seemed to break away now, sprinting into the clear and making for the ramp. The pink aliens attempted to crowd out and intercept him but Smith's cover fire prevented them from getting too close. At this rate at least one of the Scavanger's crew would make it off this planet alive to report back to Star Command of the ship's demise.

After viciously assaulting the fauna of the planet with some more wayward laser shots, Phil finally ceased firing and decided to watch things unfold.

He had to admit, Smith was a very good shot with a blaster pistol, every blast was clinical and deadly no matter how far away the target seemed. Occasionally he would take pot-shots at the monster's eyes when no pink aliens seemed in proximity to RJ. Phil couldn't tell if it did any damage or if he was just irritating the beast, he wasn't fluent in roaraneese. If he was he'd certainly ask the thing to kindly stop rampaging toward them if it wouldn't mind.

It let out another yell as Smith hit it right in the eye, was it Phil's imagination or was it even bigger than when he had first spotted it? Or it could just be getting closer, much closer. Yes, that would do it.

The afro-stricken sprinter had made the ramp, tearing up it and wisely avoiding Smith's line of sight, he promptly collapsed just inside the ship in a shuddering heap. Phil moved toward him to see what he could learn of the current situation.

'Who are you?' Phil asked, placing a hand on the man's shoulder.

This resulted in the shuddering heap leaping vertically and sending Phil stumbling back in surprise.

'Cadet... damnation. Ensign Trigger Hawkins of the SC Scavanger, sir!'

Phil peered into the man's nervous eyes and tried to assemble some sort of dignity that befitted command.

'I... er... Phil... Captain Phil Jones of the SC.. of this vessel.' he hesitantly stuck out a hand, expecting the man to fly backward in shock. He couldn't blame him, especially after what he had been chased by. Who knows what else this young Ensign had encountered in the depths of both the jungle and his own misfortune?

The blasts from RJ's gun as he fended off the aliens were getting louder, the climax of this desperate action was about to commence.

'You had better get to the cockpit. We'll take it from here.'

Phil watched the young man leave with only a second or two of hesitation to snap off a brittle salute. The pink glove tightened over his skin, somehow he knew that he had to stay here and see the thing through, even if he'd much rather be hidden away with the rest of them.

BOOK: phil jones2
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