Chapter 7

A Chapter by The Templar

3145 brushed a small bit of dust from his shotgun's barrel, checking and looking over the lethal firearm an uncountable number of times to ensure it's optimal performance. He had overheard from security personnel that he was hailed as the 'gun-nut' aboard the station. While he usually avoided pointless gossip, he supposed that it was correct.

'As long as it doesn't interfere with my work, I will pay them no mind.' he thought to himself while fiddling with the slide to check for any signs of rust.

As usual, however, his shotgun looked like the day it rolled off the factory belt. He had always prided himself on perfection, and it was probably the only thing that ever made him happy. At least, from what he could remember.

He slung his weapon over his shoulder, feeling it magnetically connect and seal to his back. He stared with dull interest out a window he had been standing in front of for awhile now, feeling he might as well do something to occupy his time.

The emptiness of space and the small stars that shined in the distance had always fascinated him. His 'father' told him that he had a 'childish' wonderment when it came to space; he had never explained why, just kept saying it was genetic.

Genetic or not, it never took away from the deadly beauty of it all.

Suddenly, a large black hole opened decently far from the station, only visible because of the light it was sucking in.

3145 frowned, activating the zoom function of his helmet. With a clearer picture, he saw what looked like a ship emerge from the hole. A slip-space jump?

The ship was visibly aged, looking cobbled together from scrap metal and little consideration put in for structural integrity. It's rusting brown color was off-putting to say the least, and the large, white skull painted on the side made him worried. Hundreds of guns lined the ship, no corner was left unarmed or untouched. That amount of firepower would make any action hero blush.

3145 disengaged his zoom, but watched the ship as it approached the station. Was that thing going to dock?

"Sal, run scan of that vessel. Now."

"Of course, 3145. Running scan...complete. 3145, that is a pirate vessel. I suggest immediate action."

"What?" 3145 removed his shotgun form his back, his frown deepening as the ship got closer.

"Their guns are rotating towards this facility, brace for high-velocity impact."

3145's eyes widened as bright yellow explosions ignited across the ship,and faded almost instantly. Before he could prepare, the station shook and rumbled as the force hit the facility. 3145 lost his balance and collapsed on the floor, his visor's HUD temporarily shorting out and deactivating.

He got back up quickly, the station still shaking and being fired upon by pirates far in the distance.

"Damnit, Sal! What the hell happened to those shields?!"

"It seems the shields are down, deactivation commenced twenty minutes ago."

3145 sprinted down the hallway he was in, running past panicking scientists and a few unprepared security personnel, some still struggling to regain their footing.

"And why the hell are you telling me this now, huh?"

"I assumed-"

"Don't assume, Sal! Call for reinforcements immediately!"

"Long-range communications have suffered significant damage, they are no longer in usable condition. I am sorry."

3145 felt a familiar rage boil inside him, he felt his face become red and the grip on his gun tightened as he continued down the hallway. Sal was great and all, but 'she' was an absolute pain to work with. AI wasn't his specialty, but whoever designed her deserved to be punched in the throat until his windpipe broke and he died from suffocati-

3145 stopped. He looked at the nearest wall, and immediately punched it. A sizable dent formed in the wall, the metal caved in and compromised.

"3145, your adrenaline levels are reaching dangerous levels. Administering light tranquilizer."

3145 felt a warmish-feeling course through his veins, time seeming to slow down and almost completely stop. He felt his hot anger subside, rage replaced by a rare feeling of calmness. He removed his fist from the wall, his arms suddenly feeling fatigued and tired.

He slowly walked the rest of the way down the hallway, his vision becoming blurred and distorted like a broken TV. The violent shaking of the station no longer fazed him, he was entirely out of touch with reality.

So out of touch that he didn't know the ship had stopped firing, and docked with the station.

***

1457 frantically looked around, seeing a few unfamiliar scientists pass by him. None of them was the kind man from before, and the soldier never appeared.

"Sal, where is the current location of Doctor Richards?"

"Doctor Richards is currently located in the cafeteria, but unregistered life signs have showed up in that location. Other staff life signs in that area are flat-lining."

1457 pressed the button for the elevator, hearing a low hum as it began it's climb from the lower levels. When the elevator finally reached him, he could hear shouting and gunfire from deeper down the hallway.

He didn't want to know if it was security, or someone else intent on killing everyone aboard the station.

When the elevator doors opened, he saw bloodied interior and a single, hunched over security guard. He checked his life signs, but there was no pulse. He noticed that his chest area had been almost completely blown away, and holes were scattered across his lifeless body.

He noticed a lone pistol in his hand, which 1457 immediately took. If this guy told him anything, it was that there was someone who was armed in the cafeteria.

He pressed the button for the cafeteria inside the elevator. He pulled the slide back on his pistol, seeing a round still loaded. He ejected the clip, which was surprisingly full.

He looked over at the guard. He must of died before he could even get a shot off. And from the look of how he died, someone down there had serious firepower.

1457 noticed a hatch on the ceiling of the elevator. He looked on last time at the guard, and decided it would be best for him to hide for now.

He climbed out onto the ceiling, aiming his pistol at the elevator doors. A single beep was heard before they were blown of their supports and slammed into the back of the elevator.

1457 kept his cool, on mistake and he could end up dead.

"Ha! So much for reinforcements huh?"

"Keep an eye on those hostages, idiot. This ain't the time for celebration."

"Whatever, you aren't any fun anyway."

1457 did not recognize these voices, were these the 'new life signs' Sal had been talking about? 1457 dropped back into the elevator, keeping his pistol in firing position.

He noticed there was no one in front of him, only some overturned tables and tipped chairs. He crouched behind the nearest table, deciding it would be suitable cover for the time being.

"Sal, where are the hostiles?"

"Scanning...two unregistered pirates are on your right and left. Exercise caution, one has a heavy machine gun, and is heavily armored."

"What about the other one?"

"Using stolen D-Class armor and a heavy pistol."

1457 looked to his left, and saw a single soldier that towered above the hostages below him. He was covered head to toe with bulky crimson red armor, and he held a large firearm that looked to big for normal human hands.

To his right he saw a short, thin looking human that was busy setting small grey devices at the hostage's feet. His head was exposed, and he was completely bald. His armor looked more like a standard security vest, and next to him was a handgun.

He noticed four columns in the room, two on each side. They could be better cover should things turn nasty, and 1457 had no doubt they would.

1457 looked at his two options, and picked the weaker looking human on the right. As he got closer, he heard the human humming an unknown song, fiddling with more devices he could not recognize.

***

Raul watched the hostages squirm, a constant smile adorning his features. He couldn't wait to execute these corporate slaves, and what better way then explosives?

He primed another one, and set one at another hostage's feet, who expectantly tried to move away.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you. You're still in the blast radius, and so are your friends here." Raul gestured at the rest of the hostages, the hostage staring at him with fear "Wouldn't want to die a murderer now would we?"

Raul put a hand on the hostage's shoulder, trying to give him a false sense of security before their inevitable demise. That's when he noticed the hostage's gaze not being focused on him.

He grabbed his pistol, and turned around, expecting to see John looking all threatening again and stealing his thunder. Instead, he was greeted with a blue armor-clad soldier pointing a dinky pistol at him. His face was obscured by a helmet, and he didn't look like the normal security he had seen around here.

The unknown soldier fired a single shot. Raul watched with amusement as the round deflected off an invisible force field, the bullet crumpling and landing on the ground with a light pang.

The soldier stood, shocked. Raul smiled and pointed his own gun at this intruder, who dared interrupt him during this precious moment.

Before he could react though, the soldier punched him straight in the jaw, shattering it. Raul cried in pain, holding his jaw and screaming whatever profanity he could think of at the unknown. He had forgotten that his shields were no good against good 'ol brute force.

His whining was met with a quick kick to the face, knocking him out cold.

***

John heard a single gunshot. He looked over his shoulder quickly, his visor scanning for anything out of the ordinary. Sure enough, there was an unrecognizable soldier who was beating the s**t out of Raul, who was now lying on the floor completely unconscious.

John turned his whole body to face the intruder, steadying his machine gun with his shoulder.

John pulled the trigger, a large grin on his face.

***

1457 heard a loud shuffling behind him, and instantly knew what was moving. The other soldier had no doubt heard him, and there was no doubt he was about to get shot.

1457 took cover behind a concrete pillar as the loud roar of the machine gun deafened him instantly. 1457 turned away as the concrete on the pillar was blown away like it was tissue paper, the heavy caliber rounds whittling them down to the rebar rods supporting them.

1457 looked over to the hostages on his side. About half of them were now dead, their bodies being torn to shreds and blown apart as bullets kept striking them unrelentingly.

1457 knew he stood no chance in this position.

The hail of bullets never stopped, and he was running out of room on the pillar as more and more was destroyed. Dust filled the air and shards of broken concrete scattered and ricocheted of 1457's armor, even the rebar stood no chance as it too was destroyed.

1457 knew his only chance to survive was to run.

1457 broke into a sprint, running to the other column on his right. He heard bullets whiz past his head, and strike the wall behind him.

1457 slid behind the pillar, chunks of concrete already being blown away by the bullet storm.

Then it stopped.

1457 peeked out from behind the pillar, trying to see his attacker. He saw a large pile of brass casings next to the soldier, the barrel of his machine gun glowed red hot and smoke flowed freely from inside.

A large metal drum dropped out of the bottom of the gun, a loud clang and clatter as it hit the floor.

The soldier calmly pulled out another metal drum, and inserted it into the gun.

1457 knew instantly what he had to do.

He fired his pistol, which sounded like a pop gun compared to the machine gun. The near useless bullets sent sparks off the soldiers armor, but he didn't even flinch. Not a dent or scratch on his armor was there, the crimson red of the armor remaining untouched.

1457 ran at the soldier, who was now pulling back the slide on the gun. 1457 knew that if he tried to take cover now, he would end up like the hostages. A loud click was heard as the first new bullet entered the chamber.

Before 1457 could do anything, the crimson soldier swung his gun towards 1457. 1457 felt his head snap back as the butt of the gun hit him while he was still sprinting, knocking him to the ground.

1457 saw his faceplate was cracked in multiple areas, and his HUD was glitching and disappearing rapidly. He felt his ears ring and a painful headache set over him, and he groaned in pain as he slipped in and out of consciousness.

Through his failing vision he saw the crimson soldier aim his beast of a weapon directly at his face, and 1457 knew this would be were he died. At least he would go out fighting, right? At least he tried to do something heroic before his demise.

1457 closed his eyes, losing all will to resist his death. Something told him this is how it was meant to be, that this was his fate no matter what he did. He would just have to accept that now.

A ear-shattering bang was all he heard next, but he didn't feel anything. In fact, he could still hear himself breathing, and right now he was even thinking. Was he dead?

1457 slowly opened both his eyes, the crimson soldier standing unmoving with his gun still pointed at him. Then, he dropped his weapon, which landed on 1457's chest. 1457 groaned again as it hit his rib cage, the immense weight of the weapon putting far to much pressure on his chest.

The soldier leaned to the side, and fell down, apparently dead. 1457 watched him fall, the behemoth of a man done in by something he could not see.

"Get up."

That voice sounded all to familiar. It sounded like it was...

Oh no.

1457 tilted his head up slightly, fearing his assumption to be true. Sure enough, an almost equally tall soldier in the same grey armor stood in front of him, shotgun in hand.

“We have a lot of work to do…” even behind the mask, 1457 knew he was disgusted by his next words. “Brother.”

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