Humanity Endures

Part 7 - Last Stand | Chapter 8

Moments later, as the space elevator rapidly ascended, the dockyard's war-ravaged visage replaced Velan's view of the unusual fleet around it, and the sight of Kalithihar above. As the elevator's rapid ascent slowed to a crawl, and it began to pass by a stretch of solid, featureless metal walls, a few seconds were spent in disquieting darkness; the only illumination came from the elevator's own limited artificial light. A few moments more, and the multi-storied elevator slid into its berth in one of the shipyard's rather-cramped atriums — this was more like a large hallway — whose unadorned walls were coated with a thick layer of both human and alien blood. Much of the floor surrounding the elevator was obscured by a thin layer of human corpses. As all of these bodies were armed and armored to some extent, it became clear that this was not the site of a massacre of civilians, but rather a pitched battle between human soldiers and alien monsters — a massacre in all but name.

The atrium, though it was three storeys tall, had but one floor — the upper two floors of the elevator had to take the stairs to the elevator's first floor in order to exit the thing. Wary of the human corpses surrounding the elevator, and fearing that the station could be in alien hands, Korthekar, his hulking form stained with black blood, took up a position behind the elevator's main doors, supported by the two surviving enforcers and whatever marines accompanied them. The rest of Velan's crew members took cover behind or around them; as the glass doors slid open, and Korthekar took a bold step into the station, the air suddenly became filled with the clamor of gunfire as a whirlwind of bullets, intent on adding Velan's crew to the grisly mountain of corpses that surrounded them, descended on the unsuspecting vanguard. Though some were wounded, thankfully, none amongst Velan's crew had been killed by the exchange — so far.

As bullets harmlessly ricocheted around the elevator, the armor and cover of Velan's crew members protected them for the time being, while they inaccurately returned fire at their new assailants. Velan, in the chaos, noted that whoever was shooting at him had no anti-enforcer weaponry — the many rounds that hit Korthekar's armor bounced off harmlessly, and had his mood not been soured by the death of so many of his people, Velan's favorite brute may have laughed at the display. There was a clear way to exploit this, and Velan didn't hesitate to do so: another moment, and he ordered his remaining enforcers to charge into melee and incapacitate their assailants — non-lethally, as his foe seemingly didn't have any alien weaponry either, and the possibility remained open that they were somehow human. As the reports of hostile gauss fire reached deafeningly high volumes, Korthekar and multiple other enforcers leapt out of their cover and barged through the elevator's doors, the hostile, desperate coilgun attacks assailing them proving as much a deterrent as a stern gale. One of the attackers — who looked like a human soldier — hurled a fragmentation grenade; Korthekar, catching the grenade with minimal effort, allowed it to detonate harmlessly within his unbreakable armored fist.

Having identified their opponents, the enforcers, leaping into the fray, began pummelling and throwing the hostile marines around the cramped chamber as if they were soft paper; these opponents' mere assault rifles did nothing to dent the enforcers' tank-grade armor as the super-soldiers incapacitated one marine after the other. Against an enforcer, normal soldiers need explosives, numbers, or any anti-armor weapon, such as an anti-material rifle; the marines Velan fought had none of these, and this truth was evident in their dismal attempts at resistance.

Velan, peering out of his cover, was suddenly sent reeling as his helmet-clad head was hit with some great force — a moment later, his implants identified that force as a grazing gauss bullet that had reflected off of his visor. Cursing, Velan grabbed his rifle, and, leaning out of his cover again, surveyed the room for targets; another second, and he sighted a moderately ornamented marine attempting to flee, seemingly fully aware of the futilities involved with trying to stand and fight as they bolted towards a nearby door.