Fic: Altered Trajectory (cont.)
Oct. 2nd, 2010 04:23 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jeriendhalI wanted to finish this scene with the story's climax, but I've caught a cold from Georgia and it's really kicking my ass today. So I'll just post what I've written and hopefully pound out the end sometime tomorrow.
Rufus howled and fired twice at the section of the catwalks where the shot had come from. Beside him, Blake shot to her feet to make a grab for his arm. He kicked out hard, his claws tearing through her uniform pants and deep into her leg, dropping her back down to the deck. Another shot from the sniper passed so close to his head he imagined he felt fur burning. The he turned and fired in the direction of the hanger deck's refueling station. The superheated plasma from his pistol striking the valves instantly set off a fireball that nearly threw him to the deck. Alarms blared and a shower of fire-suppressant foam began to flood down from the ceiling.
“Hazel! Hazel!” he shouted, throwing the pistol out of Blake's reach as he knelt down beside her, hidden from the sniper at the moment by the soapy veil. Hazel was still alive, her arms wrapped tight around a burnt hole in her abdomen, tears of pain in her eyes.
“Ru, get... ahhh... get out of here... right now!”
“Not without you! Get up!” He wrapped his arm around her and pulled Hazel to her feet, his footpads almost going out from under him as the deck plates became click with foam.
“Give yourselves up!” Blake shouted, clutching her gouged leg.
“Fragg off!” he snarled at her. He helped Hazel to the boarding ladder. “Can you climb?”
“I... don't think so...”
“Here.” With near hysterical strength he lifted her up until she was able set one footpad on the retractable boarding ladder beside the WSO's seat, one paw gripping the lip of the cockpit tightly while the other still clutched her wounded belly. He climbed into the cockpit and flipped the LADDER RETRACT switch. Both ladders rose automatically, the one raising Hazel until he was able to grab her by the collar of her prison jumper and nearly throw her into her seat. He sealed the cockpit windscreen just as Blake managed to drag herself over to his abandoned pistol and fire shot, the plasma beam making no dent in the White Knight's armored duraglass.
“Medkit's on your right, by your feet,” he told Hazel as he began to frantically throw switches and begin the emergency power up sequence.
“O-okay,” she gasped, grabbing the kit and unbuttoning her jumper, pressing a wide sterile bandage to her stomach and another against her back. “Ru... can you fly?”
“I'm going to have to, aren't I?” he said. The engines roared to life as the airlock doors opened, disgorging a squad of armored marines that began firing heavy weapons at the White Knight, their shots bouncing off the fighter's energy screens. They fell back, grabbing Commander Blake and pulling her out of the way as he turned the White Knight's engines towards them, rolling towards the launch accelerators.
“Ru, the doors aren't open,” Hazel said, as she tried to pull the safety harness over her shoulders.
“They will be in a moment,” he replied. He touched a claw to the control panel, switching the cockpit's HUD from NAV to WAR. The White Knight's cannons emerged from their protective housing in the nose, and he fire a burst at the armored doors protecting the opening to the accelerators. There was a brief howl of wind as the doors and the hanger's atmosphere were blown out into space, carrying the fighter forward as Rufus shoved its throttle up to maximum acceleration.
TBC
Rufus howled and fired twice at the section of the catwalks where the shot had come from. Beside him, Blake shot to her feet to make a grab for his arm. He kicked out hard, his claws tearing through her uniform pants and deep into her leg, dropping her back down to the deck. Another shot from the sniper passed so close to his head he imagined he felt fur burning. The he turned and fired in the direction of the hanger deck's refueling station. The superheated plasma from his pistol striking the valves instantly set off a fireball that nearly threw him to the deck. Alarms blared and a shower of fire-suppressant foam began to flood down from the ceiling.
“Hazel! Hazel!” he shouted, throwing the pistol out of Blake's reach as he knelt down beside her, hidden from the sniper at the moment by the soapy veil. Hazel was still alive, her arms wrapped tight around a burnt hole in her abdomen, tears of pain in her eyes.
“Ru, get... ahhh... get out of here... right now!”
“Not without you! Get up!” He wrapped his arm around her and pulled Hazel to her feet, his footpads almost going out from under him as the deck plates became click with foam.
“Give yourselves up!” Blake shouted, clutching her gouged leg.
“Fragg off!” he snarled at her. He helped Hazel to the boarding ladder. “Can you climb?”
“I... don't think so...”
“Here.” With near hysterical strength he lifted her up until she was able set one footpad on the retractable boarding ladder beside the WSO's seat, one paw gripping the lip of the cockpit tightly while the other still clutched her wounded belly. He climbed into the cockpit and flipped the LADDER RETRACT switch. Both ladders rose automatically, the one raising Hazel until he was able to grab her by the collar of her prison jumper and nearly throw her into her seat. He sealed the cockpit windscreen just as Blake managed to drag herself over to his abandoned pistol and fire shot, the plasma beam making no dent in the White Knight's armored duraglass.
“Medkit's on your right, by your feet,” he told Hazel as he began to frantically throw switches and begin the emergency power up sequence.
“O-okay,” she gasped, grabbing the kit and unbuttoning her jumper, pressing a wide sterile bandage to her stomach and another against her back. “Ru... can you fly?”
“I'm going to have to, aren't I?” he said. The engines roared to life as the airlock doors opened, disgorging a squad of armored marines that began firing heavy weapons at the White Knight, their shots bouncing off the fighter's energy screens. They fell back, grabbing Commander Blake and pulling her out of the way as he turned the White Knight's engines towards them, rolling towards the launch accelerators.
“Ru, the doors aren't open,” Hazel said, as she tried to pull the safety harness over her shoulders.
“They will be in a moment,” he replied. He touched a claw to the control panel, switching the cockpit's HUD from NAV to WAR. The White Knight's cannons emerged from their protective housing in the nose, and he fire a burst at the armored doors protecting the opening to the accelerators. There was a brief howl of wind as the doors and the hanger's atmosphere were blown out into space, carrying the fighter forward as Rufus shoved its throttle up to maximum acceleration.
TBC
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no subject
Date: 2010-10-02 09:44 pm (UTC)Also, awww, a present from your daughter. Hopefully there are hugs to help it pass better.
no subject
Date: 2010-10-03 10:59 pm (UTC)Ru is lucky he didn't cook himself in that fireball... talk about calculated risk.
And now he's going to try fly. Ho-boi
no subject
Date: 2010-10-04 07:52 am (UTC)...and not be shot down by friendly/enemy fire...
mjkj