Something slammed into the hull. The tanks vibrated at the impact. The squids and the lone Mentera jawed over it, not in good spirits, safe to say.
Why have bug tanks on the bridge, though? Oh, right…this was a bug ship, wasn’t it? The crew could plug in, recharge on the fresh meat within.
Regers, you’re slow on the draw here. Gears ain’t working properly.
The short Mentera bobbed over on its hind legs, to check on the prisoners. It paused to gaze in the tanks. Its locust head dipped, yellow tongue darting out in interest while pincers twitched. One lifted to stroke the glass, until it snatched suddenly at the black cable that connected to the top of the tank. It snapped the other end into its navel.
Regers’ eyes widened in horror. Not this tank, you grubby fuck! Pick Deakes, not mine.
But not to be. The locust hitched in, started to feed.
Regers slumped, feeling gutshot, as the Mentera lolled by the tank’s side. It drank deep of his life energy, all the while Regers felt his bone marrow being sucked out of him as if it swirled up a tube and down a drain. He felt a terrible lethargy, as the bug drained his bodily and mineral resources.
Another violent shock jarred the glass: a deeper hit on the hull that snapped the cable at the tank’s top and pitched the bug back on its heels. It cracked hard, chitinous carapace against the wall. The squids went careening backward against the tanks.
The glass shook. The tanks rocked, spilling water from the loose top of Regers’ prison where the cable was. Regers saw a small hairline fracture develop down near the bottom of his tank. Green brine seeped out of the crack. Not much, but enough to drain the tank, if given time. Regers’ face twisted in a leer.
Squids and locust scrambled back to the controls, oblivious of the seepage. The shoulder-high locust gestured at the others as if giving orders like a miniature overlord. One little munchkin giving two hulking squids orders. What was wrong with that picture? The squids seemed put out by the posturing and overweening command the locust had and were getting pissed, judging from the agitated wavering of their front tentacles. Shell fire flashed across the starboard shields. The lightfighter yawed. The tanks leaned on precarious angles, more water spilling out of the loosened plug tops. The Mentera ship slewed to port. The little munchkin ignored the warning. It seemed to be shrilling more orders at the Zikri. One of the brutes lashed out a stinging tentacle that sent the little dwarf flying. If Regers could have laughed he would have.
The Mentera leaped up on its hind legs in bristling anger and fumbled for its blaster. It shot out a beam, tagging the squid. Little bits of squid meat went three ways as it smashed back in a charred ruin, half its grotesque face now a sunken cavehole. Regers looked on, enjoying the sport. Its squid companion glided in and smashed the locust back against the wall, engulfed it in a sandwich of killing motilators. Not a pretty sight. Not before a green ray shot out like a greased eel and cracked Jennings’ tank. Jiminy spilled out, all hands and knees sprawled akimbo, spewing green brine as he choked for air.
If Regers could bend over and smack the glass with his metal fist, he could accelerate the seepage. But he couldn’t. The water paralyzed him. He could barely lift a finger or flutter an eyelid as it stood.
The squids were in trouble. Their well-wrought plans had gone to batshit, as somehow they hadn’t counted on the dragonflies, moths, whatever the fuck they were, kicking ass and wrecking ships—coupled with Dez’s insidious mechnobot armor, a lethal combination. Gave them the surprise of their lives.
The ship was failing. NOA was on their ass, no light drive or they’d have hyperdrived out of here long ago. At least, death was coming fast and all the prisoners would be bonfires rather than spend the rest of their days vegetating in a bug’s liquid bath.
Careful what you wish for, Regers. You’re not a master escapist for nothing. No reason to give up and die now.
The water was draining out at a faster rate. Lips peeled back, head exposed, Regers gave an oily smile, as now neck and chest lay bare.
He jerked a limb as more foul water gushed out of his mouth. Coughing out a briny mouthful, he clenched his teeth and winced. His head swam, arms and legs still immobilized by the paralyzing agency of the water and residual effects of the bug’s feeding. Now his waist was clear and he crumpled in a ragdoll heap, head dunked back in the water.
Before his head had dropped though, he caught a glimpse of Jennings creeping nearby, trying to get a finger on the dead locust’s gun. Good ole rat bastard Jennings! The ship lurched to a new attack.
The last squid worked its way back toward the console, jerking in desperate measures at the controls to save the craft from annihilation. Jennings halted, a shadow in the shadows, dripping brine. He was hunched and tensed, looking as if he knew he played a risky game should the squid turn and see him.
Life was returning to Regers’ limbs in painful tingles. Fresh invigorating strength. Renewed resolve.
The water had drained to eighteen inches. He crouched down to batter at the crack with all his might with a metallic fist. One strike. Two… The glass spiderwebbed, gurgling out the last bits of water. He staggered out, his left leg catching on a jagged shard of glass and drawing blood. The squid turned.
His target was the blaster before it could wrap glue-slimed motilators around him.
The squid chittered a torrent of obscene syllables and bobbed over to deliver Regers a killing
