King of the Battlefield - Interlude 4
A/N: GUESS WHAT TIME IT IS? What? No, It's not Tool Time. It's SPACE REDNECK vs SPACE ZOMBIE TIME!
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USG Ishimura, Medical Deck, Morgue
As a pair of locked down and damaged doors slowly creaked open, a headlamp pierced the gloom lying beyond them.
Considering all the terrible Space Zombies that he'd been runnin' into, Master Sergeant Leeroy Gibbs of the Confederate Marine Corps was feelin' more than a mite bit cautious about steppin' into a morgue.
He'd done his readin' and vidya watchin' after he found out he mighta been a zombie back in ol' Koprulu durin' the Big Skirmish, after all! One thing all the research materials had gotten a hold of agreed upon was that if yer in a morgue, there's prolly a zombie hidin' in the morgue.
He didn't understand too much why good ol' Mike kept sighin' about that when he tried to explain it. Eh, much as he liked Liberty, he was a whaddya-call it…
"An Ivory Tower Intellectual."
"Hey, Thanks, Tater."
"Logged."
Right! An Ivory Tower Fella! Makes sense he was only familiar with normal ol' Zerg Zombies, which were right understandable. You get a poor unlucky fella like Cousin Lister, some big Zerg Queeniethingie vomits somethin' disgustin' into 'em, and bam! Poor fella's infected.
Right simple chain of effect, that is. Nothin' like the terrible mysteries of Space Zombies, tho'.
So, Leeroy Gibbs was cautious as all heck as he finished pryin' the Morgue doors open and shouldered his way inside, armored pads scrapin' the door frame a bit. He had his rifle up an' at the ready, headlamp cautious sweepin' the ceiling before he stepped forwards, lettin' his lil' buddy dart in on his side, that fancy Rockbuster of his up and at the ready.
The pair of Gen-U-Wine Badasses (In Leeroy's opinion, anyhoo!) carefully waited, tense, waitin' for one of them nasty Space Zombies to pop out of somewhere and try to eat 'em, or slice 'em, or shoot poisonous tentacles at 'em or SOMETHIN'.
After a good few minutes, Leeroy let his gun barrel drop slightly, blinkin' inside his suit. "...Huh."
Isaac nodded, his own fancy helmet glowin' in the dark. Right creepy.
Seriously, who designs those things? In Leeroy's opinion, they're just askin' fer some sniper to shoot 'em right between the eyes.
Ah well, Civvies.
The Engineer consulted his Fancy Space Radio, and pointed deeper into the Morgue. "Pulled a data log earlier while you were shifting the barricade. Seems like the Captain was brought in here for an autopsy after he got killed by someone jamming something sharp through his eye."
Leeroy paused. "...You mean into, right?"
Clarke shook his head. "Nope."
Leeroy cringed. Ew.
Still, somethin' bothered him as he took point. "...So, the Captain dies, and they leave his keys on his body? Man, these boys are -whacked out-."
Clarke sighed, nodding as he paced after Leeroy. "Yeah...Can't argue that. Been reading data files. Looks like the colony they had down there went -nuts-, and they were having to put a bunch of the crew into medical sedation when they started going crazy up here, too. Probably the damn Unitologists. Still, from the message Nicole sent me, I think the Captain died just before everything went to hell, so...Understandable, if sloppy."
Leeroy hummed, casually shouldering his way through another door. Man, all these spooky spots, and nothin' trying to eat him. Creepy as fuck.
Finally, they paused, Leeroy's headlamp illuminatin' a room marked 'Autopsy'.
Casually, Leeroy hefted his rifle, checkin' the ammo count. Satisfied, he glanced at Isaac. "You ready, buddy?"
Staying well, out of his line of fire, the Engineer nodded, that fancy plasma shooter of his held in hands. "Got your back, Sergeant."
Grinning under his visor, Leeroy slammed a fist into the door switch, servos humming as he stepped into the room, gun up and sweeping. On a table, tools discarded, lay what he figgered was the Ship's Captain.
Sweeping the room, he stepped in, Isaac carefully moving after him. "Alright, looks clear, let's get the keys anSWEETFLIPPIN'JUMPIN' HORNED GOATS! THE FUCKISTHAT!"
Some -super- freaky Space Zombie THING had just dropped out of a grate, scurrying towards the Captain's corpse. It had arms, and skin, and no mouth, and no organs and-
Leeroy's conscious mind was gibbering a bit at just how freakin' -wrong- the thing was.
Luckily, his reflexes were honed by the finest Confederate boot camp program and several years of combat in the Koprulu sector. Said reflexes nudged his rifle in the direction of the CREEPYDAMNTHING as it vaulted towards the corpse, sharppointything wiggling as it extended, leaking yellow fluid...and then they held down the trigger.
Firing on full auto, Gibbs poured armor-piercing spikes downrange.
The Creepyasfuckthing didn't have a chance, letting out a scream as the hail of fire caught it mid-lunge, ripping it apart in a shower of blood an' guts, splattering 'em all over the room as the spikes chewed into the walls, blowing big ol' holes in 'em.
Tater initiated a stabilizin' shot from the suit's onboard distillery, and Gibbs relaxed his finger, sucking in a slow breath. "Hoooooooooeeee. Sorry 'bout that, Isaac. Had me a bit of a flashback to the time an injured Zerglin' tried to eat me once. 'Tween that and the freaky look it had goin', well, fraid I overreacted a mite bit."
Isaac leaned out from behind Gibbs, plasma cutter at the ready, and his helmet tilted as he stared at the damage to the far end of the Morgue. "...Yeah, I'll say. You okay, Sergeant?"
Leeroy finished swallowing the last of his shot of Joey Ray's 120 Proof, sighing as he reloaded his rifle with a fresh magazine. "Yeah...I'm gettin' sick of all the dadgumm Space Zombies on this dadgummed spaceship, tho'."
Isaac let out a sigh as he slapped the plasma cutter against a magnetic holster point, visibly cringing as he got closer to the Captain's body and flipped it over to remove his RIG. "You and me both, Leeroy." There was a wet splorch as half-pooled blood slopped out of the damaged eye socket, making the engineer swallow loudly. "Ugh. You and me both."
Gingerly removing the RIG, Isaac quickly retreated from the room. Pausing, he glanced back at Leeroy. "Gibbs...Whatcha waitin' for?"
Gibbs hmmed, backing up to the door, and tapped a finger to his hip. "Tater. Burner grenade."
The suit's AI let out an emotionless -beep-. "Firing." As the incidenary round arced into the Autopsy Room, Gibbs palmed the door shut, turning to look at Isaac. "Y'noticed that freaky damn thing went for the corpse first, not us, right? Betcha five space bucks we just found out what's makin' those freaky as heck Space Zombies."
The Engineer sighed, shoulders sagging. "No bet. Think it's the last of 'em?"
Leeroy's loud laughter echoed through the Morgue as the pair retraced their path, prompting an irritated grumble from the engineer. "Yeah...Didn't think we were that lucky either. You can shut up now, by the way."
Leeroy laughed louder.
Sighing as they made it back to the ship's internal Tram, Isaac activated his RIGlink. "Hammond? This is Isaac. We've got the Captain's RIG...Transmitting the codes now…"
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