The Chief waited as his adversary stepped out of the airlock. The old man was complacent; marine infantry should know to look up... Chief bided his time, waiting until the door was closing before he launched himself down. He grabbed the pistol right out of the sergeant's hip holster and tossed it into the airlock, getting it through the last crack of doorway before the huge hatches rang shut.

The marine had still barely worked out what was going on when he took a punch in the face and careered off across the room.


Ruth opened the hatch.

"Come on Marcus, now's our chance."


Twelve rounds in two seconds: the tiny darts came in threes as two riflemen walked methodically down the hall toward him. He let them come, watching with some pleasure as they realised their ineffectiveness and their expressions soured. Shot after shot was fired, some going wide and splintering against the far bulkhead, but mostly just disappeared into Filip.

When one of the marines came close enough, and long before he realised the fact, Filip grabbed the gun and pulled it up to smash it's owner in the face with the butt. He span it end over end, pulling the trigger with a spare finger to put a burst into the other marine's chest before he turned in place.

The medic was in a bad way. Whether a stray flechette or just a sliver of shrapnel he seemed to have been struck in or near the eye, and was unlikely to survive without his own attention. Filip couldn't care less: without righting the weapon he trained it on the Major, who was standing all too close to Gail.

"My, who would have thought you could handle a gun?"

"I'm not proud of what I did in life, but it was always exactly as I was ordered, in the name of my country. I don't suppose you can say the same, Major. Now let her go."

Major Reed pushed Gail forward, moving in close behind her as she walked toward her door.

"Mister Ruiz, do you really think you can take the shot?"

"Been using these things on and off since 1519. They've changed, but mainly just to be more accurate and more damaging. Don't underestimate me."

Gail almost fell into him, so hard did the Major push her. Filip took a firm hold of her and steered her toward her cabin, turning away from his enemy briefly to pay attention to her. He fully expected the man to draw a pistol, but was beginning to think there was nothing the little darts could do to him.

"Go inside. Don't worry about me."

She opened the door and stepped forward, turning back for him on the threshold. The look on her face was probably his first warning, but it was not enough. The end of the blade - a ceremonial sword, the shine on its edge ruined by hasty sharpening - protruded from Filip's chest.

She screamed, but it was nothing compared to the bellow of pain and anger that came from Filip. He span - wrenching the Major's sword from his grip and arm from its socket - and flailed at the man, striking him in the shoulder with a sickening crack. It lasted only a moment though; before he'd even turned around the animation simply left him and dropped him in a heap on the floor.

Gail's last sight of the corridor was both men lying on the ground, one all but convulsing in pain and the other completely immobile, his face fixed in a morbid grimace. She let the door close behind her, called for a medical team and threw herself into the nearest chair.



Next Chapter: Chapter 38