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A ball of gelatinous goo, the color of peanut butter, whizzed by his head. He had ducked at just the right moment, but the trust was that his knees had given out and he’d nearly fallen. There was no time to bring the gun sight up to his eye. He just fired.

Once!

Twice!

Three times!

The Cetix was struck twice and it was sent flying back, but there was no roof there to catch it. The heavier part of its body was off the roof and it pulled the rest of it off too. The Cetix’s thousand legs scrambled but caught only air. It fell backwards off the roof.

David dragged himself to the edge and looked over. The Cetix’s dead body was split open down the middle with blood pooling around it. Shivering in horror, he got to his feet. It was then that he saw the brown mass that had been shot at him. His stomach flipped as he realized it was full of larvae. They were squirming in the goo like it was their primordial mother’s milk. He fired at them, making them a brown, sizzling smear.

Realizing how close he had come to getting infected, not to mention how much he was limping, had him wondering if he shouldn’t stay up on the roof where it was relatively safe. He was just a linguist after all. At least, that’s what he’d signed up as.

But the thought of the Khul infecting others--infecting the Pilot--had him limping to the door that led to the lift the Khul had taken to get to him. He pushed the down button and headed for the first floor.

When he got out of the building, he started heading towards where Nova and the soldiers had disappeared. He heard fighting up ahead and hobbled towards it. There was a shout though from behind. He spun, his right knee objecting, and brought up his weapon, only to see Davies--blackened, bleeding from the ears, and slightly dazed--come out of a nearby building. He was grinning a bit like a loon even though he appeared quite the worse for wear.

“Did you make the second explosion, Davies?” David asked as he hobbled to Davies instead.

“Shit. Second? I thought… oh, my God.” Davies swung his head towards the Compound. “My explosion took down a bit of the shield, but there’s no way any Khul are getting in that way. I assure you. It’s Khul soup down there. So what the Hell happened there?”

He gestured to the second failing part of the shield.

“They obviously had other bombs,” David answered with a shrug. “Nova, a dozen soldiers, Khoth and Jace’s mech are battling them over there but some could have gotten in.”

“They have!” Typhon’s voice rang out behind them.

Again, they lifted weapons and David’s knees wailed, but the draagves’ barrel was steady. But it was the Justiciar, looking none the worse for wear, unless sweat and the gleam of death in his eyes was considered wear.

“Godamnit!” Davies hissed. “We need to get in there now!”

Typhon gestured for them to come with him to the main entrance to the Compound, he was tapping something on his comm as they all strode after him. Well, David limped.

“My people are holding them off, but there’s too many. They could get past them,” Typhon said, still tapping.

“We need Jace to be moved to the most secure location,” Davies growled as he shook debris out of his hair.

“The Control Room is the most secure location,” Typhon answered curtly.

“Why does that not make me feel better? Those damned Khul were able to get through four feet of calcanth and a shield with those bombs! You’re telling me that they can’t get through a secure door?” Davies was shaking his head.

“And all they need to do is threaten to infect your people and Jace will give himself up,” David said softly.

“No! Surely, he understands his worth to--”

But David cut him off, “No, Justiciar Moturin. One of the Pilot’s most powerful character traits is that he puts others before himself. He is a classic hero type after all. He will die to save another life, no matter how unworthy that other life may be in our eyes compared to himself.”

“It’s true,” Davies said with a nod. “Jace is a goddamned hero so we can’t be.”

The gate’s shield flickered and was gone. They jogged into the Compound with David puffing after them.

“What are you suggesting?” Typhon asked.

“That we kill every goddamned Khul we see,” Davies said, then his face went grim, “and if they take hostages… we kill them too.”

Last Blast

Meanwhile, on the Osiris…