Chapter 3

Making my way towards the ship's bridge was a bit more complicated then I had initially expected. The area was much more heavily protected, with smaller and more winding corridors, and quite a few heavier hatchways – blastdoors, I realized. I also had to climb up a cramped access ladder in order to reach a higher level, seeing as I couldn't read, let alone work the controls for the ship's elevator system.

Even with tablet in hand, with the detailed map of the ship, I ended up taking a wrong turn more than once.

Normally, Feng had explained to me, I wouldn't have the necessary clearance to even halfway reach the bridge, but seeing as the ship's AI was currently locked down, all of the usual internal security measures were also offline.

After finally reaching the sole reinforced hatch to the bridge I simply stood there in thought for a few moments, panting slightly.

I was fit, but clearly not as young or healthy as I used to be. I'd have to look into remedying that as soon as I could. But that was beside the point. I had a much more urgent and life-threatening problem to deal with right in front of me.

As things were, my only advantages were my training and experience, which I sincerely thought (and hoped) were superior than the alien captain's, the ephemeral element of surprise, and the fact that according to Feng, besides a small collection of melee weapons, like Vojiss's electrified baton (a "pain-stick" according to the Theissss), Roqiss wasn't likely to be carrying any weapons.

Believe it or not, but that had surprised and disappointed me greatly. I had been expecting some laser rifles, phaser pistols, or disrupter rays ... some king of high tech and space-agey weaponry that I could take and use myself.

On the other hand, it really did make a lot of sense. The last thing the Theissss would have wanted was for the Marsubarans to somehow get their hands on some real deadly weapons and turn them against their captors. Prison guards don't carry firearms after all.

So far I'd been very lucky in getting the drop on two Theissss, but storming the bridge was going to be a very different situation. According to the ship's schematics, the bridge was a large circular room, with a high domed ceiling, filled with a dozen seats, surrounded by numerous information and control consoles and view-screens. Feng had told me that the Theissss would most likely be in the captain's chair more or less in the center, with his back to the hatchway.

That might sound all well and good in theory, but there were more than a few setbacks.

The number one rule to successfully clearing a room – never do it alone. It's just stupid and dangerous for a soldier to go into an unknown and potentially dangerous situation without others to cover his blind spots and watch his back. And here I was, going in completely solo, with no backup plan or exit strategy. Not smart, but it wasn't like I had much of a choice.

The second rule to successfully clearing a room – be properly equipped. I was pretty much screwed on that front also. No firearms, no body armor, no flashbangs or smoke grenades ... all I had was a combat knife and a jet injector half-filled with anesthetic. And with both of those, I'd have to be in really close proximity.

Third rule to successfully clearing a room – don't be seen until you're ready to be seen. Stealth and the element of surprise are invaluable assets to a soldier, but in this situation there was no way that Roqiss wasn't going to notice the hatch opening and a strange human entering the bridge. So the stealth option was out and the surprise would be really short lived; maybe not long enough to be truly effective.

No matter how I looked at the situation, it was most likely going to be messy, painful and end badly for me. I would just have to go in relying on the three fundamentals of close quarters combat - speed, aggression and surprise. But, like I said before, it's not like I had a lot of choice in the matter. The Marsubarans were counting on me. Hell, all of Earth was unknowingly dependent on my success.

Now, you might be getting the wrong idea about me here. Sure I cared about the fate of the world and maybe even the Marsubarans, but the very last thing that I was, was a hero. Let's set this straight from the very beginning - heroes do not exist in combat. Every incident I can recall or even remember hearing about in war that created a hero was either a complete accident or ended up with said hero being sent home in a body bag. The whole "hero" myth is in fact, a toss up between luck and stupidity; a mere arbitrary roll of the dice.

So why the hell was I doing this? That's a pretty easy question to answer actually.

First off, above all else, I was just trying to save my own life. That's one of the big objectives of any soldier's training – making sure we can keep ourselves and our comrades alive, in order to fulfill our mission. Sacrificing yourself is a very distant second choice.

Secondly, I was extremely pissed off. Just where the hell did these six-eyes, amphibious assholes get off thinking that they could just swoop down into our neck of the woods, kidnap and kill a bunch of humans, and honestly plan on attacking planet Earth? I wanted to show these motherfuckers that you don't go around fucking with humans – we've had thousands of years of collective experience in killing each other, it should be easy to shift that know-how to killing aliens.

At least all of that dark bloody history would be good for something.

Lastly, I was just plain bored. Admittedly, maybe I was a bit depressed as well. I had no idea how to live a civilian life, so going out in a blaze of glory, battling evil aliens, seemed like a great alternative. If I happened to live though this, I could pretty much guarantee that this story would make sure that I'd never have to buy my own beers in a bar ever again.

And that is why, despite my nerves and frustration, the dire circumstances, and all the lives hanging in the balance, I felt a wide grin spreading on my face.

"Time to get this party started," I said out loud to myself.

I triggered the hatch's admittance plate and ran through the opening iris as soon as I could safely pass.

What really struck me about the bridge was that, unlike the ship's metal and steel colored corridors, it was almost completely white, much like the medical bay had been. It all looked impressively shiny, pristine and brand new – straight off the factory floor. Only the numerous multicolored lights from smooth contoured consoles and view-screens displaying incomprehensible data and beautiful star-fields broke up the room's completely sterile feel.

Just as I had hoped I spotted Roqiss right away, sitting in the captain's chair, his back to me. Actually, all I spotted was his large ears projecting out from the sides of an egg shaped seat.

Using all of my speed, I ran toward him with my knife bared and my arm raised, ready to give a downwards stab aiming more or less at his chest.

It took three long strides to reach him, but he was already moving after I made only two. I almost missed the bastard, he was so fast.

Almost.

As he swiftly rolled forward my blade, instead of plunging deep into his chest, made a foot long slash, starting from his shoulder and going down his back. Before I could properly regroup, he was already on his feet and armed as well, an electrified baton in one hand and a blade in the other. It looked a lot like a kukri, a curved and machete-like knife, but this one looked longer and lighter, with a heavily serrated edge.

Ok, he was fast and experienced. Damn it.

I got a good look at him then and saw that he looked almost exactly like Vojiss, except he seemed a bit taller and leaner and the dark red tattoos which covered his body were much more complex and extensive. He was wearing a couple of gold hoop earrings on each of his large ears and several gold bands around his arms and legs.

I guess the Theissss really like their "bling".

He was also dressed in much the same way, except he wore a full harness, full of pockets and pouches. Prominent amongst those, I spotted my holstered Dan Wesson revolver at his waist.

The rat bastard had my gun. But why didn't he pull it on me? Could it be that he didn't know how to use it?

I just might have a chance ... if it was still loaded...

He paused for a moment, from surprise and confusion I took it. It was just for a moment, but I gladly took advantage of it in order to keep the initiative and keep him reacting to me. I was moving again, dodging around the captain's chair and bounding over its accompanying control consoles toward Roqiss.

By the looks of it, he had been expecting me to go on the defensive, maybe giving me a few tentative lunges in order to evaluate and test my capabilities.

The last thing that I was going to do was oblige him – I didn't want a protracted and complicated fight, I wanted to end this fast. Using his hesitation, I simply attacked, hard and quick, with a boot straight at his chin, once again catching him by surprise. As he reeled from the blow, I lashed out with my knife at the arm that was holding his electrified baton, the more dangerous of his two weapons in my opinion. The blade sank deep into his forearm, and amid a small gush of purple blood, the weapon clattered to the floor.

I paid for it though – he recovered quickly and swiped at me with his own blade, cutting well into my upper arm, near my shoulder.

Damn did it hurt, and the blade sure did cause me to bleed like a stuck pig. Not good.

There was a fleeting lull as we both dealt with our pain and gauged our wounds, but never taking our eyes off of the other. Then, as one, we were both ready for more.

Crouching down low, with his remaining weapon a twirling blur in his nimble hand, Roqiss simultaneously hissed and growled at me. His numerous and razor-sharp, off-white teeth ground together audibly.

If looks could kill, my atomic components would have been scattered across the Milky Way.

"Same to you asshole," I growled out, making sure to show a lot of my own teeth.

He came at me then, lunging his knife low toward my stomach. Half expecting the move, I dodged to the side, catching his wrist at the same time and then twisting his arm. Quickly, bringing my knee up with all my strength, I bent his elbow far in the wrong direction. He howled out in unmistakable pain, but the expected snap and feeling of the joint giving way never came.

Instead I suddenly felt my legs being swept up from under me and I fell hard on my back and banged my head. Unfortunately, the pain wasn't the worst part, by far. The impact made me lose my grip on my knife, and I heard it skitter away.

'That damn tail!' I cursed myself as I rolled away before the Theissss could take full advantage of my fall.

As I regained my feet, I saw that I needn't have worried. Though my blow hadn't broken his elbow, it had certainly hurt and he too had lost his blade. I quickly scanned the floor of the bridge for my knife, but to no avail.

I did spot his though, at just about the same time he did.

Using his terrific speed, he dove rapidly for his knife. I dove at him instead, trying to make sure that we both stayed unarmed, on a more or less level playing field. After a bone-jarring impact, we were locked in a close quarters grapple, rolling around on the floor. I can't exactly remember everything that happened then, or in what order it happen – it was just too chaotic.

Fights are like that. Forget all of those well choreographed and flowing fight scenes you tend to see in the movies, or the well regulated and structured combats that professional martial artists participate in. In real life or death situation, fights that don't end within the first couple of blows normally degrade into brutal and chaotic affairs, more closely resembling a savage brawl between animals than a test of physical strength and skill between noble adversaries.

I know that I hit him on the side of the head with my elbow several times, rattling his brain. I think I seriously hurt one of his eyes after a particularly hard blow, since it stayed more or less shut, but he had many more available of course. I gave him a dozen good body blows, and his shell capped fingers jabbed and gouged into my flesh in return. I'm pretty sure that he fractured a few of my ribs, maybe even caused some internal bleeding. At one point his large mouth clamped down hard onto my forearm, his teeth sinking deep into my flesh, but a hard punch to his throat made him let go. I tried to put him in several joint locks and restraining holds, but the bastard must have been double-jointed or something – though it clearly hurt him, he just kept on slipping away. He couldn't bring in his tail to use against me directly, but it did give him an occasional advantage in leverage.

All the while we were violently banging into the consoles and chairs around us, both of covered liberally with each others blood.

Just for a second, it felt like he was beating me, causing me more damage and pain than I was dishing out. I wondered if I was going to lose, die here, alone in space, without being able to help the Marsubarans and the people of Earth.