a Fathom soldier, set off the noisy klaxon throughout the ship. Admiral Koshkov departed to organise the Russian forces.
On the third deck Hechkle was the first to react, picking up his cap, thrusting it onto his head and walking towards the nearest entrance. He brushed past two American soldiers who were patrolling the deck, his large shoulders unbalancing both of them. Hechkle didn’t break stride and it was the following Bronstorm who saw the dark looks the two soldiers gave the disappearing back of the tall Fathom warrior. They then turned their hostile glances towards Bronstorm, who blanked them, before walking past.
‘Follow me,’ Hechkle shouted to the group over his shoulder. The rest of the companions pushed their way through the still groggy civilians and made their way tothe main corridor looking around for what to do next when a familiar voice called out.
‘Greetings, my friends, you are all looking rested, it is amazing what three months can do for your complexion!’
Kabel , Gemma’s heart raced and she ran to him and gave him a big hug which he returned, realising how much he had missed her these last three months. The others promptly surrounded him and once pleasantries had been exchanged he beckoned them to gather closely around him.
‘Look, we have many photon anti-ship guns on this ship but we do not have enough trained soldiers to fire them. The others are awakening from hyper-sleep but it will take too much time before they are combat ready. I need volunteers.’
‘We trained on the guns before we left, though I admit I will be a little rusty,’ said Bailey. The others nodded their heads as they all had previously volunteered to train on the weapons defence.
‘That’s what I wanted to hear. Go to the first deck and grab yourself a position – we have only a few minutes before the enemy are upon us,’ Kabel stressed, ‘I will join the aviators in the Cobras.’ He was referring to the reconditioned double manned sleek aircraft that used to protect Elanda all those years ago. Now in full working order, they were aptly renamed after the venomous snake, and how the neck of the plane coiled before spitting out the deadly pulses of zinithium photon torpedoes.
‘Good luck,’ said Gemma, a lump in her throat. In answer he kissed her and then ran up the corridor. Gemma swallowed hard. It had been long time since she had seen him, and for him then to go was hard.
The others made their way to the first deck, fighting through the bedlam around them. Tyson felt the tightnessof the excitement gripping him as he followed the others. He like all the others had practised on the huge anti-ship photon guns with his natural hand to eye coordination proving an instant hit, leading him to record the highest number of “kills” in the training programme; nearly twenty-five percent higher than the previous record, held by Kabel. When he had finished the exercise and the other companions were congratulating their friend, he held back on what he had experienced, the connection with the gun that transcended pure metal and ammunition. He saw Zylar in his sights and every virtual ship he transformed into the hulking presence of his nemesis. The outside world faded from his consciousness – all he wanted to do was kill.
‘Tyson, Tyson?’ He shook out of his trance and turned to look at the worried face of Amelia. Amelia had grown used to the faraway looks of her boyfriend. She knew that he thought of Evelyn often and her death had changed him – possibly forever. Sometimes it took her minutes to wrestle him away from whatever place he tucked his mind into. What she knew for certain by the look on his face, it was rarely a pleasant journey.
‘You with us now, honey?’
‘Sure I am.’ Tyson flashed an indulgent smile and entered one of the anti-ship photon gun booths. The booths were positioned strategically down the spine of the ship with a one hundred and eighty degree angle of engagement. Due to
On the third deck Hechkle was the first to react, picking up his cap, thrusting it onto his head and walking towards the nearest entrance. He brushed past two American soldiers who were patrolling the deck, his large shoulders unbalancing both of them. Hechkle didn’t break stride and it was the following Bronstorm who saw the dark looks the two soldiers gave the disappearing back of the tall Fathom warrior. They then turned their hostile glances towards Bronstorm, who blanked them, before walking past.
‘Follow me,’ Hechkle shouted to the group over his shoulder. The rest of the companions pushed their way through the still groggy civilians and made their way tothe main corridor looking around for what to do next when a familiar voice called out.
‘Greetings, my friends, you are all looking rested, it is amazing what three months can do for your complexion!’
Kabel , Gemma’s heart raced and she ran to him and gave him a big hug which he returned, realising how much he had missed her these last three months. The others promptly surrounded him and once pleasantries had been exchanged he beckoned them to gather closely around him.
‘Look, we have many photon anti-ship guns on this ship but we do not have enough trained soldiers to fire them. The others are awakening from hyper-sleep but it will take too much time before they are combat ready. I need volunteers.’
‘We trained on the guns before we left, though I admit I will be a little rusty,’ said Bailey. The others nodded their heads as they all had previously volunteered to train on the weapons defence.
‘That’s what I wanted to hear. Go to the first deck and grab yourself a position – we have only a few minutes before the enemy are upon us,’ Kabel stressed, ‘I will join the aviators in the Cobras.’ He was referring to the reconditioned double manned sleek aircraft that used to protect Elanda all those years ago. Now in full working order, they were aptly renamed after the venomous snake, and how the neck of the plane coiled before spitting out the deadly pulses of zinithium photon torpedoes.
‘Good luck,’ said Gemma, a lump in her throat. In answer he kissed her and then ran up the corridor. Gemma swallowed hard. It had been long time since she had seen him, and for him then to go was hard.
The others made their way to the first deck, fighting through the bedlam around them. Tyson felt the tightnessof the excitement gripping him as he followed the others. He like all the others had practised on the huge anti-ship photon guns with his natural hand to eye coordination proving an instant hit, leading him to record the highest number of “kills” in the training programme; nearly twenty-five percent higher than the previous record, held by Kabel. When he had finished the exercise and the other companions were congratulating their friend, he held back on what he had experienced, the connection with the gun that transcended pure metal and ammunition. He saw Zylar in his sights and every virtual ship he transformed into the hulking presence of his nemesis. The outside world faded from his consciousness – all he wanted to do was kill.
‘Tyson, Tyson?’ He shook out of his trance and turned to look at the worried face of Amelia. Amelia had grown used to the faraway looks of her boyfriend. She knew that he thought of Evelyn often and her death had changed him – possibly forever. Sometimes it took her minutes to wrestle him away from whatever place he tucked his mind into. What she knew for certain by the look on his face, it was rarely a pleasant journey.
‘You with us now, honey?’
‘Sure I am.’ Tyson flashed an indulgent smile and entered one of the anti-ship photon gun booths. The booths were positioned strategically down the spine of the ship with a one hundred and eighty degree angle of engagement. Due to
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