The Honour of the Knights (First Edition) (54 page)

The
reality of what they were up against had finally begun to sink in,
and the cries of the pilot that Estelle had shot down three days
ago came rushing back into his head. The pilot had begged not to be
sent back, that if he went back he would die. Now that Dodds
thought about it, the man had spoken with an Imperial accent. He
had thought nothing of it at the time, but now… Was this what
those three had been running from? Had they been so desperate to
escape from this nightmare that they would risk going head-to-head
with seasoned Confederation starfighter pilots? The odds of their
success had been low, but no doubt higher than their odds against
these soldiers. The “rumours” he, Enrique and Chaz had heard the
previous night no longer seemed to be just that.

Something else occurred to him: was this how
Dragon
had been so
easily overcome? From what he was seeing, even the several thousand
strong crew of
Dragon
‘s
full complement would be no match
against such unrelenting foes. What other secrets were the CSN
keeping from them?

He
looked to Chaz, who was sheltering from the bullets and plasma that
continued to fly into the bar, ripping plaster and chunks of
concrete from the walls; splintering wooden chairs, tables and the
counter; shattering bottles, glasses and decorations.

He
caught Chaz’s eyes. The man looked stressed.

“
Chaz, seriously, who the hell are these guys?” Dodds
asked.

There
was considerable pause, then, in a grim voice, “They’re the result
of the Senate’s desire to control the Empire. They’re a
mistake.”

“
What?” Dodds said. “They’re
a
mistake
?”

More
wood and plaster flew. Enrique swore, his voice loud above the
other noise.

“
What do you mean? Are they human?” Dodds said.

Dodds
was staring at him, but Chaz took no notice, lost in thought as to
how they were to escape from their current predicament. He checked
the counter on his plasma pistol and saw that only two shots in the
current fuel cell remained. Shooting down the enemy was now not an
option - if it had ever been. He ducked out of hiding again, to
loose off the final two shots before crouching down behind the wall
to reload the pistol. He tossed the empty fuel cell away, the
little splash it made as it hit the floor grabbing his attention
for the first time. It was then that he noticed the thin liquid
that covered the floor, as well as the strong smell of
wine.

“
Estelle, what you two got back there?” he shouted to the two
women taking refuge behind the counter.

“
We don
’
t have any weapons or ammo!”
Estelle said.

“
Not unless you want to start throwing beer glasses at them!”
Kelly added.

“
Anything with a high percentage of alcohol?” Chaz
said.

“
They
’
re starting to come around!”
Enrique cried. At their current range, Enrique
’
s shotgun was not going to be as
accurate or effective against the soldiers as the pistol. He fired
it nonetheless, in an attempt to keep the soldiers together, though
they had already split into two groups and had begun to circle
around, to take the bar blindsided.

Chaz
took a chance and fully exposed himself, firing off several shots
at both groups to drive them back. The gamble paid off and the
soldiers once again pulled back for cover. He sought cover once
more himself, knowing that he would not be able to pull off such a
move again. He counted himself lucky that he had not been shot to
ribbons, even for those brief few seconds. The soldiers were not
only very accurate, but also possessed incredible reflexes. He
assumed they must have already used up their more powerful
armaments dealing with the refugees; he would not be safe behind
the wall otherwise. It had bought them a little time, but even that
was already beginning to run out.

“
Found anything?” Chaz called.

Estelle
and Kelly were ransacking the lower cupboards, looking for anything
that might be of use.

“
Vodka,” Kelly volunteered, her eyes
resting on some large clear bottles of liquid
labelled
Velda
. “Lots of it.”

“
Bring it here - and hurry!” Chaz said.

Estelle thrust two of the large bottles into
Kelly
’
s arms and
the woman somewhat reluctantly crawled towards Chaz, pausing under
wooden tables as she went.

“
How many are there?” the big man said, as she pulled herself
up next to him.

“
About two dozen or so under the counter,” she said. “Maybe
more if…”

“
Toss them out there,” Chaz said. “Take the caps off and try
and make sure they break. Make sure you get a good spread. Estelle,
Dodds pass her the rest. Enrique and I will cover you.”

The
others started to follow his request, without question. Chaz fired
the pistol sparingly as they did so, keeping a close watch on the
ammunition counter as he and Enrique continued to lay down a
suppressing fire.

As the
bottles were thrown out, smashing on the white marble floor, the
black soldiers ceased firing and held their position behind the
massive desk. They seemed uncertain of what was going on and why
their enemy had resorted to such a bizarre tactic. Such feelings
were shared by Dodds, Estelle and Kelly who were, at this point,
willing to try anything to get out of the port alive.

“
Only got one shot left,” Enrique said, at the same time that
the bottles of vodka ran out. All the bottles had shattered where
they had been thrown, the alcohol spreading out across the floor
and soaking into the clothes of the dead.

“
Pass it over here,” Chaz said, still not willing to explain
or discuss his train of thought with the others.

Enrique
ducked down and slid the weapon across the floor to the big man,
who let it come to rest next to him.

“
When I give you the signal, I want you all
to get out of here and head towards the airlock.
Don
’
t wait
for me; I
’
ll be
right behind you.” He produced the three smoke grenades,
double-checking that they were what he was after. “Hold your
breath.”

Taking
hold of the first, he pulled the pin and let it roll away from him.
The canister immediately began to billow thick green smoke, filling
the inside of the bar. Setting off another, he tossed it just
outside the entrance to the bar, yellow smoke belching forth and
beginning to cover the surrounding area. He then threw the third in
the direction they would need to take to reach the airlock, purple
smoke spewing out of the canister.

“
Go! Now!” Chaz said.

He
watched as his four allies made their way past him, the air all
around them filling with multicoloured gas. The combination of the
three grenades in the small area was already providing an effective
screen for their escape, but Chaz knew this was not enough.
Dropping the plasma pistol into his flight helmet, he tossed the
shotgun outside the bar, where he could more easily retrieve it
following the final phase of his plan.

* * *

As the smoke screen covered the
Knights,
the soldiers tapped at the
side of their helmets, changing the internal visor settings; a
tactic they had used whilst hunting down escaping refugees in the
near-darkness that the soldiers themselves had perpetuated. They
had since returned their visors to normal.

But with the thick blanket of smoke now obscuring their
vision, they chose a setting that allowed them to see thermal
radiation. The smoke screen that had been providing the
Knights
with cover for
their escape was undone, and their forms were revealed as
silhouettes of red, yellow and blue-green hues, running as best
they could from the bar in the direction of the airlock corridor,
skipping over bodies.

All that
was, except for one, who remained outside the entrance of the shot
up bar. The silhouette did not stay in that position for very long,
however, making a sudden throwing motion and then beginning to run
itself, grabbing two objects off the floor.

Training
their guns on the figure, the soldiers prepared to open fire when
their vision exploded, overwhelmed with an intensity of reds,
oranges and yellows. The definition of their surroundings was lost.
They did not need to switch off their thermal vision to realise
that a fierce blaze had sprung up between them and their quarry. It
was now spreading fast, the fire setting alight to clothes and
other flammable items that had at one time belonged to the
refugees.

* * *

The combination of thick, multicoloured smoke and flames
provided the
Knights
with adequate cover and the group reached the airlock
unscathed. Reaching the door first, Dodds started to work the
control panel, opening it and allowing the others through. He
remained in front of the panel as the others made their way into
the chamber, lest it close and leave some of them on the wrong side
of the thick doors. He saw Chaz bringing up the rear and waved him
through. With him, the big man carried the shotgun that he had
originally entrusted to Enrique, as well as his flight
helmet.

“
Dodds, get in here!” Estelle said.

Dodds released his finger from the button and started
forward, only to feel something latched onto his leg. He looked
down to see that one of the soldier
’
s previous victims was not yet dead
and was now clinging on to him for dear life.

“
Hey! Let go!” he started, trying to shake the man off him.
Despite his efforts, the refugee held on tight, refusing to do as
he said, the desperation to escape and reach safety all but closing
his ears to any such protest. Dodds began to swear profusely, and
reached down in an attempt to pry the man from him. He could feel
that he would topple over at any moment.

“
Pandoran! Pandoran…” the man said,
looking back around him in fear, hearing, as Dodds, the sound of
the soldiers
’
heavy boots on the floor.

“
Help!” Dodds said, looking around to his allies in the
chamber, who were affixing their helmets and checking their gear.
The refugee was attempting to pull himself up, repeating the same
word over and over. It sounded more like a name.

Chaz
came rushing back out the airlock chamber, coming up beside the
grappling pair. The big man struck the refugee with the butt of the
shotgun, making him release his grip, before grabbing Dodds by the
upper arm and hauling him in to join the others.

“
Close the damn door!” Chaz barked, as the five black-clad
soldiers rounded the corner at the end of the corridor and hammered
towards them.

As the
airlock doors began to close, Chaz raised the shotgun for one last
time and discharged it. The soldiers did not even halt as the gun
was fired, the frontmost pursuer being winged by the spread of
pellets. She fell backwards, but the others simply stepped over
her, forming a defensive line between their adversaries and their
fallen team mate. Through the diminishing gap, Chaz threw the
shotgun back into the corridor, just as the doors bolted before
him. Picking up his flight helmet from the floor, he extracted the
pistol he had stowed within it. The big man then proceeded to don
his helmet, though he did not turn his back on the scene on the
other side of the door.

Dodds
did likewise, powerless to do anything but stand and watch the fate
of the refugee that had tried to come with him. With few options
open to him, the refugee made a vain attempt at rushing the
soldiers. The lead did not bother to respond to the threat with his
held weapon, but instead grabbed the man around the top of his head
with one massive hand. Drawing a knife from his belt, he cut his
attacker’s throat in one fluid and powerful movement, before
letting him slip choking and gasping to the floor. The remaining
soldiers ran up to the closed door and stood in front of it, the
foremost raising the plasma rifle they held and training it on Chaz
through the airlock door window.

Dodds watched in wrapped silence. Even though the soldier
could have killed Chaz with a couple of shots, he was not about to
pull the trigger and break the glass. To do so would risk exposing
the entire port to the vacuum of space the moment the outer airlock
door opened. But the soldier waited still. If the outer door did
not open, for any reason, whether because of a mechanical failure
or security violation, then Dodds was certain he would not hesitate
to pull the trigger. Even so, Chaz remained where he was,
acknowledging no-one else, his back to his fellow
Knights
.

A warning alarm started in the chamber, signalling both the
impending depressurization and Chaz
’
s victory.

“
Here we go,” Enrique announced to the
sound of the outer door locks’ release. Dodds felt himself start to
drift out and he made sure he had a good grip on the control of his
propulsion pack. He noticed how Chaz continued to stare at the
soldiers on the other side of the glass, even as he floated out
beyond the chamber. Dodds slowed himself, catching sight of the big
man
’
s
expression and noting it to be one of pure hatred for the
invaders.