Sanctuary

"Getting inside would be a good idea," V said, venturing to breathe again, "and perhaps someone should take care of your gun for you, Joshua."

She was glad for the darkness because she knew she'd gone pale when the bullet hit the ground near her foot.

"I guess we can leave this thing out here." she said, indicating Vishka with the muzzle of the carbine.

 

Zefie glanced up briefly as Bruce appeared, and another man who finally opened the command centre door, but her eyes were quickly drawn back to the Dragoon. It had dropped the ground, huddling into a protective ball though the only shot fired so far had missed it.

One of the young men with it mumbled something about giving the thing the benefit of the doubt, it could be friendly. Zefie directed a double-barrelled glare his way.

“Give it the benefit of the doubt?” she echoed, disgusted. “Are you insane? It’s a Dragoon! A Dragoon – one of Them. It needs to die.”

She was shaking with anger, but for some reason she hadn’t shot yet. Not knowing why, she looked at the other man stood beside the Dragoon, that hadn’t spoken yet.

“Why the hell are you with it anyway?” she asked roughly, but curiously.

 

The metal door began to slide open, but Jess stayed at her sentry post.
Although she stood too far away to see properly, she heard the others identify the creature as a Dragoon. A young man said something about sparing its life. He stood in the way, blocking her shot.

Josh stood the closest. He fired once and then again, missing both times. Jessica stared at him. From 25 yards? How was that even possible? Is he trying to miss? she wondered, frowning. Why would he do that?

He seemed to give up and stumble towards the doors.

“Yes it does. Kill it,” Jess said, her voice empty. If that man would just move she could shoot it. Or was it already dead? She wondered if Dragoons died of heart attacks and other things. They should put a few bullets in it, just in case.

 

Artemis stared at them, all though he was afraid and panicked. He knew the right thing from the wrong thing.
"I followed him and his friend," Artemis said, "He did nothing to me, they did nothing to me...give him the benefit of the doubt I understand what he is and I'm anxious as well, but I won't let my panic and fear take over and kill an innocent."
Artemis then realized what he had said. He was probably going to get a few holes through his body as well. Either that or many would ignore him even if he stayed with him. He would be considered the abnormal, so much for blending in. He could almost imagine his father's angry face at the moment. When the veins pop out of his skull and his face turns a bright red. Artemis would have been scolded at this moment, if his fatehr were alive. He looked down at his holy converse again. He could feel panic and fear, maybe even a bit of nervousness rushing throughs his body again. He baleld his hands up into a tight sweaty fist and he continued to stare at the ground. He could say he was preparing for his own hanging along with the creature.

 

Dre was picking up waves of confusion from either Vishka or the other people at the door to the Command Center. They were all leveling their weapons at Vishka, and in turn, Dre was aiming his two pistols at the group.

“Give it the benefit of the doubt?” Said one girl angrily. “Are you insane? It’s a Dragoon! A Dragoon – one of Them. It needs to die.”

“Yes it does. Kill it,” said another girl with emptiness in her voice.

Dre leveled his pistols at each of them. "Everyone just shut up and use your damned eyes! He may be one of Them but he isn't killing us is he? If he had wanted us dead then we would have all been dead by now. If you will kindly let us all into the CC then I think I might be able to explain some things, but right now we've got a couple of bigger problems to worry about than making friends!"

Dre still remembered the feeling he had gotten when he felt those...whatever they were coming down the hall. He gave an involuntary shudder, but kept his pistols steady on the heads of the two girls.

 

Threshers were rarely ever sent into an assault along with the main body of Their force, but the powers that were deemed it necessary on this occasion. Where the Dragoons would probably fail to locate the Disk, the Threshers would succeed. No Thresher had ever fallen to a human in combat, and they intended to keep that status quo.

The hall that led to the Command Center began to rumble gently at first, but it picked up in intensity in a few short moments. The group was confused, the Threshers could sense that. With cold efficiency the Threshers readied their shoulder mounted rail guns. There were only two Threshers, for they always traveled in pairs. Though, it never took more than two to finish the job.

 

"I don't know," V said coldly, holding the carbine on Dre, "if it's causing you to point weapons at your own people I still think it's suspect."

A deep rumble interrupted her.

"We don't have time for this." she muttered.

 

Zefie kept her eyes locked on the red-headed man’s, speechless with disbelief that he had actually raised his pistols at them in defence of one of Them. It didn’t make any sense; why would a human defend one of Them? And why was one of Them not killing humans?

The man seemed determined to point this out “Everyone just shut up and use your damned eyes! He may be one of Them but he isn't killing us is he? If he had wanted us dead then we would have all been dead by now. If you will kindly let us all into the CC then I think I might be able to explain some things, but right now we've got a couple of bigger problems to worry about than making friends!”

Zefie glanced at V and the man who had opened the command centre. They seemed to think there was something important in there, and she doubted if any of them would want to let a Dragoon in.

She was about to point this out, but V beat her to the punch. Still, at least someone had said something. Before anyone could say anything there was a deep rumbled and Zefie noticed two large shadows detach themselves from the blackness lining the hall. She sucked in her breath and hissed, “Something’s followed them.”

 

“Dragoons aren’t my friends.” Jess stared at the Browning aimed at her chest. It seemed that the creature was his friend. Did that make him an enemy? She kept the rifle aimed at the Dragoon but looked Dre. Experience had taught her not to voice her thoughts so she kept silent, listening to the reasoning for killing the Dragoon whisper in her ear. It might want to get in the Control Centre. It might want whatever that girl wants. The Browning was aimed at her chest. Even if he fired first, she was quite sure that she could shoot the Dragoon before she fell. Or the man for being friendly with a Dragoon. And for shooting her.

The ground began to rumble. She took her eyes of the target for an instant to look down the corridor. What was that sound?

Two tall shadows appeared. They definitely weren't human.

 

Jack looked about, noting the standoff with interest.

"Okay, I hate to break up the lovely chat, folks, but I'm gonna have to take control of situation unless there's some higher-ranking suit here who'd like the privilege. Everybody inside the Center. And yes, that includes Creepy and his chaperon. We'll discuss this later when the murderous breed of Dragoons aren't trying to kill us."

 

The voice rose about the rumble. Jess scrutinized the speaker. With his messy hair and thin build, he didn’t look like a soldier. He must be one. His eyeball opened the door. Only important and high ranking military personnel could do that. It had been an order. Jess shrugged, lowered the rifle and walked into the Command Centre, passing the Dragoon that still lay on the floor. Her eyes narrowed and then she strode through the steel doors.

 

V didn't particularly want to shoot Dre and maybe Jack had a point. They could always kill this...thing...later if need be. She hoped. Unless it got the jump on them.

"So...can it get up?" She asked as the rumble got closer, "we need to get inside right now!"

 

"Getting inside would be a good idea," V said, "and perhaps someone should take care of your gun for you, Joshua."

Joshua didn’t respond but instead walked trough the pen door. The command centre, the CC as his father had called it. His father. The man who could shoot and kill They over 200 yards away. And here sat his son, one of those that were humanities last hope. The son of Franklin Pastor, who had missed a They less then 25 yards away. Twice.

Joshua sat down, his back to a wall. He needed coffee. If only he had taken some with him. No, instead he had brought one gun that was now wielded by the blue haired soldier, and a MN-SA, with which he couldn’t hit a building if he stood a yard away. He covered his face with his hands. He was so damn tired right now.

Suddenly, the floor rumbled.

Joshua shot up. What had just happened? They came to kill you. No, no, happy thoughts… God, They’re here to kill me!

Suddenly, he heard the voice of V. “We need to get inside right now!"

 

Zefie kept her rifle up, eyes past the traitors and their pet Dragoon, for a few more minutes, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to come face to face with whatever was making that rumbling noise. It seemed to be getting closer, and none of the group was happy about it.

“We need to get inside right now!” V called.

Zefie deliberate a moment longer, then lowered her rifle and turned on her heel.

“Then let’s get inside and not stand around talkin’ about it!” she snapped, heading for the steel doors.

If that meant the Dragoon coming then so be it; there were enough of them to kill it.

 

Sighing with relief and lowering his pistols, Dre wiped the sweat from his brow. He didn't know what it was that had followed them, and he didn't want to find out. Helping Vishka to his feet, Dre followed the group into the Command Center. The place was somewhat of a wreck.

Outside, the rumbles only grew closer and closer. Then the outlines became more defined. What followed them was far larger than any Dragoon...and those weapons on their shoulders were enough to pierce armor. These were much more than Dragoons.

"Quick! Get in and close the door!"

 

"Quick! Get in and close the door!"

Jack followed the chaperon's line of sight and saw the two shadows approaching. He ushered everyone in, making sure they all had made it. He then got inside himself, and hit the release for the door to close. As it made its slow way shut, the figures loomed ever closer. Jack set the drive down, withdrew his second pistol and began firing, keeping one pistol trained on each of the massive, indistinguishable alien shapes.

The cover fire seemed to work, for the figured stopped advancing long enough for the door to clamp shut and hiss with the release of hydraulics.

Jack lowered his pistols and let out a breath. He holstered his guns and turned back to the group. Perspiration covered his brow, and his hair had curled up as a result. His jacket had a hole in the shoulder from where he had gotten shot, and there was a rather impressive blood stain around the area. He gave a half-hearted salute to the assembled crowd.

"I'm Jack Cyrus, and I'll be your official military representative today."

 

The confusion and hostility was beginning to clear. It was still thick, like a fog in his mind, but it wasn't as incapacitating as before. He suspected that it was less that this group of humans were beginning to trust him, and more that they were forced to direct their hostility elsewhere.

Thank you, Dre, for defending me.

Vishka realised how much Dre had risked by doing so. The other humans could have turned him away. In fact, standard survival strategy dictated that they should have. Never trust a man who's holding you at gunpoint. Vishka decided it would be best if he were to remain unarmed -- or appear to -- so he surreptitiously stashed the shock rifle in his dorsal storage unit.

"These threshers will not be impeded," Vishka said, surprising them all by speaking. "Time is short. Act fast."

 

V's eyes fell on the blood-soaked shoulder as Jack made his casual salute.

"You've been shot," she said, moving toward him and reaching for her bag, "we need to take care of that."

She remembered now that others waiting at the door had also been hurt. She looked around the group, assessing damage.

"We need to care for everyone's wounds so that they won't slow us dow-

"These threshers will not be impeded," Vishka said, surprising them all by speaking. "Time is short. Act fast."

V startled and backed away from Vishka a little.

"Threshers? Can...how do we stop them, then? Will the doors hold?" V turned to Jack, "Maybe we should fuse the doors shut."

 

"Hm." Jack said. "If we can find some equipment in the midst of all this mess..." He then looked over at the Dragoon who had spoken.

"Ah. What I think Creepy means is that they'll find other ways in. We can fuse this shut for safety's sake...but they'll find a way around it." His eyes went back to Varenna.

"And as for the shoulder, it's merely a flesh wound." He waved his hand in dismissal. "Make sure the others are okay first."

 

As if punctuating Vishka's statement, gigantic steel doors actually shuddered with the force of something crashing against it. The strength of the Threshers was unreal. Small dents were beginning to appear in the steel.

It was the noise that had finally shaken the broken figure in the corner of the room into waking. General Douglass had even thought himself dead already, but his bleeding chest wound seemed to have stopped at last. He dared not move to much though, not wanting to tear the wound open again.

He could vaguely make out the sounds of voices in the room. Survivors must have made it, tried to hole up in one of the safer places in Sanctuary. Douglass shifted a little and groaned, catching the attention of almost everyone in the room. The military personnel would instantly recognize the General.

He opened his mouth as if he were going to speak, but his throat was rough and dry. The sound of the...whatever they were slamming against the doors sent his head spinning each time.

"I...I'm General Douglass.....Whats....whats the situation?"

 

Instantly Jack snapped to attention when the General pulled himself out of the shadows somewhere.

"Sir! Lieutenant Jack Cyrus reporting, sir! We received orders to retreat to Command; multiple hostiles in pursuit, including some really really big things banging on the door. I recovered the last backup tape from the HQ computer room and made sure the equipment was sufficiently fried so as to not fall into enemy hands. I suggest an immediate securing of the area as well as procurement of some really heavy weaponry. Sir." He took a deep breath as he finished his spiel.

 

Vishka immediately snapped to attention at the sound of General Douglas's voice.

"Lieutenant Jack Cyrus, reporting for duty, sir!" Vishka said, saluting.

The response was completely automatic. After a few seconds, he shook himself out of it. Strange.

 

V had turned her small light on the General as soon as he'd made himself known, gasping as she saw the wound. She went to him quickly.

"Let me help you," she said, "don't move."

She didn't turn when the banging on the door intensified, instead baring the edges of the wound. She didn't react but for her expression becoming much more serious as she worked quickly.

 

Douglass brushed V off. "No use, unless you...have some spare blood handy..." The general took a deep breath and ran his cloudy eyes over the group. A ragtag bunch if he had ever seen one. His eyes came at to rest at last on the Dragoon. It was Vishka no doubt. Somehow the bastard had managed to keep these people from shooting him. Either the group was stupid or Vishka had been lucky.

"Sir! Lieutenant Jack Cyrus reporting, sir! We received orders to retreat to Command; multiple hostiles in pursuit, including some really really big things banging on the door. I recovered the last backup tape from the HQ computer room and made sure the equipment was sufficiently fried so as to not fall into enemy hands. I suggest an immediate securing of the area as well as procurement of some really heavy weaponry. Sir."

The general's eyes took on a grave look. That meant the wall was completely overrun. "So...its over then. We've lost." He shook his head and ran his hand through his short white hair. "Never thought we'd go down like this."

Douglass got to his feet with the help of the girl and leaned heavily on a nearby control panel. "Lieutenant Cyrus...I want you to bring up the Sanctuary Schematics. I've got...a little plan."

 

At the General's statement of defeat, Jack was a little shocked. The General was giving up? They still held Command; they could put a fight and win the lost ground back...couldn't they?

"Lieutenant Cyrus...I want you to bring up the Sanctuary Schematics. I've got...a little plan."

"Yes sir." Jack stepped over to the panel and booted it up. They were running on secondary power, but it would keep this beast running for a while. Jack's efforts in the HQ computer lab had been mostly overrun. Most everything was blasted to hell. It took some doing to restore the holes in memory, but with the help of the backup tape, Jack was able to get the city schematics up on the screen.

"All yours, sir."