Interlude 5
A/N: Eh, there isn't enough Space Rednecks killin' Space Zombies. Suppose I should go ahead and fix that, ayup.
xXxXx
USG Ishimura
Tram System
Master Sergeant Leeroy Gibbs locked his suit's joints, sighing in relief as he relaxed. Damn, he wished Tater wasn't bein' so paranoid about lettin' 'em get a breath of fresher air. Still, considerin' that most of the folks on this ship went danged nuts…
He could also admit that he was a mite bit thankful that the tram system still chugged along despite all the other massive fuckups he'd seen so far on this ship, carrying him an' his buddy Isaac away from the damned medical deck.
"Ugh. I tell yah, buddy, if I never have to go pokin' around in there again it'll be too damn soon. So, how soon before we meet up with that Hammond fella?"
Clarke looked up from the fancy schematical hologram projector built into his suit's vambrace, minimizing the ship schematics. He waggled a hand back and forth. "Soon-ish, I think. We've got to get this damned deathtrap's engines back online. According to what Hammond could pull off the computers, they're bone dry, and since NOTHING ever goes right for us today, that means we need to manually initiate refueling."
Leeroy sighed, casually checking his gauss rifle's ammo levels as the Tram began to slow down, a right pretty voice announcin' they was approachin' Engineering. "Well, ain't that jus' peachy."
Leeroy frowned as the tram doors opened. The Marine slowly paced into the tram terminal, sweeping his headlamp through pitch blackness, illuminatin' the usual mess of blood and missin' bodies, a single corpse in a security uniform slumped in the traffic control booth. "...Yeah, I got a baaaad feelin' about this, Isaac."
The Engineer's response was to feed more plasma cells into that nifty plasma thingy of his, then pull the right spiffy giant sawblade launcher out of the tram. Hefting it, he glanced up at his heavier armored compatriot. "Just now?" Clarke barked out a humorless laugh. "Leeroy, you ARE an optimist."
The Marine shrugged, a fist casually swinging out, smacking the corpse hard, splatterin' it and makin' sure it was Dead-Dead and not Zombie-Dead and in need of a good stompin'.
Just in case.
Tater chose that moment to speak on up, interruptin' Leeroy and Clarke. "I'm detecting...extensive...biomass on this deck. I suggest extreme caution."
Leeroy snickered. "Translation, Tater?"
The suit's VI let out a long suffering sigh. "You've got point, Master Sergeant."
In response, Leeroy locked his armor's helmet visor for combat, relyin' on sensors instead of the ol' Mark I eyeball. As Isaac palmed the lock, the displaced Marine calmly strode into yet another of the twisty corridors, rifle up and barkin' as spikes roared downrange, tearing into a couple of the more melee inclined Space Zombies that had come to investigate, the kinetic impact blowin' 'em apart.
"Damn straight I do. Isaac! Gimme directions! Which way we goin'?"
The engineer shrugged, fancy disc launcher at the ready. "Obviously, since one corridor is kind of lit up and the other is where the fucking Space Zombies are coming from...we're going that way."
Huh.
Figures.
Ah well.
Leeroy kept up his advance, hosing the Necromorphs until they stopped coming, boots clanking off the deck's plating.
"Man, I am -so- gonna demand a raise after this crap."
xXxXx
Leeroy kept an eye on his little buddy. Isaac was holdin' up pretty well for a civvie, but he was gettin' a bit more angry as they kept on workin' on this danged ship and findin' more an' more of the the logs from the previous crew.
He guessed he could see Isaac's point. Findin' out some religious loony had decided to sabotage the ship? Well, that just ain't fun.
Still, he seemed to be puttin' bein' a mite ticked to good use, so it should be a-okay, as long as he had Mama Gibbs' favorite son on hand to watch his back!
Good thing that poor Temple fella had already fixed up the fuel lines afore somethin' went and 'et 'em. Be a damn sight harder to fix things up if Isaac had to go and do that, yessir!
Still, for all that, Engineerin' wasn't all that bad at first. Well, compared to some of the stuff that Gibbs had seen in his days.
Alright, so the bit where him and Isaac had to float through a zero-g spot because some damn idjit had broken the fancy gravity thingagummy's remote control was a pain in the ass.
Kinda funny, tho'. Turns out not all Space Zombies are good at Space. Was all one as far as Leeroy was concerned, honestly. Tater was darn good at auto-balancin' his armor for him, counter-actin' his gauss fire so he could potshot the flyin' Space Zombies like a buncha low flyin' birds.
So, annoyin', but kinda a relief after the mess down on the Medical Deck.
Well, Leeroy went right on thinkin' that right up until him and Isaac opened a door and he found a room full of Zombie Creep.
He reached out, stoppin' Isaac from movin' forwards, frowning inside his sealed up armor. "Awwww, shit. Tater, yer sure these ain't Zerg?"
His suit's VI helpfully put up a panel of Science Stuff, showin' the difference between plain ol' humans and Zerg and the Space Zombies, as well as similar things. "That is correct, Master Sergeant. As you can see from the bright blinking lights, the organic matter bears no correlation to observed Zerg specimens or Creep. There is a seventy point zero zero nine correlation to the standard material found in a human body."
Leeroy shuddered. "I'm startin' to miss the Zerg. Least they're alien, y'know? Alright, then. Got the Purge Grenades in stock for the launcher?"
The Marine could hear a chunk as his suit swapped ammo out for the shoulder mounted launcher. "Affirmative."
Grinnin' just a bit tightly, Leeroy stuck a thumb out, then turned it down. "Burn it, Tater!"
A low 'schloompschloompschloomp' echoed as the VI controlled launcher lobbed the specialized rounds down range. As they landed, the volatile mix of chemicals and nano-accelerants splashed out, quickly beginning to devour the Zombie Creep, lighting up the room as it zipped on off.
A number of hidden Space Zombies let out squeals of outrage, apparently hidin' behind or near enough the stuff to get caught in the fast movin' flash fire.
A few of the more ornery ones made a run for it, but bein' on fire, while it might keep Ghosts from grabbin' ya, didn't do nothin' about gauss spikes.
Gun at the ready, Leeroy tromped into the ashes of the Zombie Creep, puffs of burned organic matter swirlin' around his feet. "C'mon, bud! Let's get these 'ere engines back online, yeah? Don't really feel like gettin' hit by flyin' rocks today!"
Chuckling, Isaac followed in the Marine's wake, the pair making good time through the formerly infested area.
"Not on my day planner either, really. Still, got to say, Leeroy, I am glad you showed up when you did. Can you imagine how nasty this would be if I was on my own?"
Leeroy snickered. "Yeah, you'd probably still be running around trying to rig up a bomb or something right now to get into a morgue full of spooky space zombies!"
The pair of intrepid Ship Fixer Uppers kept on movin' deeper into the area formerly filled with Zombie Creep.
The Koprulu native made a note to send a mighty fine 'Thank You' to them crazy Plasmabat fellers when he got back home. They made a mighty fine Set-Everythin'-On-Fire Grenade.
Still, as the pair headed for the engine room to get the big girl's engines back online, they were comin' across some danged creepy things. The Space Zombies were draggin' corpses away, prolly for one of them Creepy-As-All-Heck Corpse Stabber Things to turn 'em into more Space Zombies. Naturally, Leeroy figured that shootin' 'em was a good way to solve the problem. Two dead Space Zombies with one shot!
Switches thrown, the pair headed on up for the Engine Room so Isaac could do Sciencey Engineer Things to the ship's computer system.
Seemed to be goin' well.
Naturally, that's when Leeroy's motion and heat sensors started screamin' warnings.
Sighing and rolling an arm inside the suit, he checked his ammo levels, loadin' up fragmentation rounds. "Isaac? We got company. Get the stuff online, will ya?"
The prototype suit of CMC armor turned, headlamps showin' off as a veritable horde of the Space Zombies came chargin' towards the pair's position. "I'll keep 'em off ya."
Planting his feet, Leeroy opened fire, short bursts scythin' into the oncomin' horde of uglies.
Despite himself, Gibbs found himself laughin'.
"Join the Marines, they said!"
Tater dropped another grenade, catching a number of Space Zombies before they pulled away to let it burn itself out, denying it fuel.
"See the stars, they said!"
His gun's magazine dropped free, Leeroy reflexively catchin' it, shoving it back into Tater's ammo re-loader and slamming a fresh one home.
"Meh. I'd rather be farmin'."
He opened fire again, stompin' hard on an enterprisin' Space Zombie that had clambered up to their position, crunching an armored boot through its torso. Its buddies started clamberin' up over the fallin' corpse right up until Isaac leaned over the railin' and fired a bunch of fancy sawblades straight down, sendin' limbs and torsos flyin' everywhere. "Engine ignition's starting up, Leeroy!"
In response, Tater seized control of Leeroy's non-gauss-rifle-holdin' arm's armor, flashin' the arm to the secondary weapon compartment. A heavy hand cannon, gleamin' chrome, whipped up, a trio of slugs punching up into a sneaky damn Corpse Stabber that had been lurkin' on the ceiling.
"Good to hear, buddy! Now, c'mon, let's keep killin' these fellers! Can't be more than a couple dozen left now!"
Arm returned to his control, Leeroy shoved a second fresh magazine home and stepped off the platform he and Isaac had been making a stand on. His armor's bulk landed heavily on another Space Zombie with a squelch, plasma blade igniting as he lashed down, cuttin' one of the creepy lil' spike spittin' ones in half, sprayin' more rounds downrange.
After finally emptying out his third magazine and slamming its replacement home, the pair paused, tense with adrenaline from the frantic firefight. Both of them started when that nice Hammond feller sent Isaac a call. Leavin 'em to their jawin', Leeroy surveyed the room.
The area round 'em was just -coated- in dead Space Zombie bits, some of them still fitfully on fire. Looking down, he grimaced inside his armor. It didn't look much better, unfortunately, as them Space Zombies were messy when bein' blown up. "Man, I hope we can stop by that decontamination chamber thing on the way back. My armor's filthy."
Sarge always said a good member of the Confederate Marine Corps makes sure he looks presentable, after all, back in Boot Camp, and Leeroy Gibbs was a good marine! The drill sergeant had said so!
