No Gravity, No Hope

Corporal Jarrod MacKenzie scanned the bleak, metal corridor ahead of him and cursed. Like the rest of the ship, the only light was the flashlight mounted on the end of his weapon. Seeing no immediate threat, he continued forward quickly. There was no point in trying to be quiet; His Mag-boots contacting with the metal made such a racket he was surprised that they weren't complaining about it from the command ship. But he had no choice. With all the gravity generators lying powerless in the engineering bay, this was the only way he could reach the bridge.

MacKenzie reached another of the many cross passages this ship had to offer and stopped. He turned down each corridor, scanning it with his light. Again, no sign of anyone. It was starting to get unnerving. As far as they had been able to tell there was no damage to the ship and yet there was no power, no gravity and no signs of life. Where was everyone? Mackenzie would have much preferred a simple, guns blazing fight. All this dark corridors and dead silence was making him feel claustrophobic.

He shook his head angrily and took a deep breath. What was wrong with him? He had been in worse places than this without batting an eyelash. "Maybe," he thought to himself. "But at least I knew where I was then." He pressed a button on his wrist and tried to bring up a map of the ship, but it was still no use. Whatever had crippled this ship was also interfering with his equipment. He sighed and scanned the corridors once more, hoping for some clue to which way to go. He knew it was in vain; The dull metal walls all stood mockingly over him, taunting him with their genericness. He tried briefly to contact the rest of his squad, but that was an exercise in futility. All he got in return was the now familiar static. For all he knew, they were just as lost as he was.

Fear gripped MacKenzie; He could feel it's icy fingers on his heart, robbing him of his will. Suddenly, all he wanted to do was to just lay down until death took him. It was an almost overpowering urge. He shook his head once more and took a deep breath to try and calm himself. The feeling lifted briefly and MacKenzie was able to summon up the will to keep moving. Picking a corridor, he began to trudge his way along, concentrating on putting on foot in front of another. Each step became harder than the last. His legs began to feel like jelly and the effort of detaching from the metal floor became a monotonous chore. The clanking sound whenever he put his foot back down was jarring in his ears. Sweat began to run down his face and neck and each breath was causing his visor to fog. Cursing to himself, MacKenzie tried to adjust his suits internal temperature control but, like everything else, it was useless.

With the force of being hit by a truck, fear chose this moment to come crashing down on him again. His arms went limp at his sides as hopelessness gripped him. MacKenzie closed his eyes and felt a small tear squeeze it's way out and down his cheek. This wasn't what he had signed up for! He was a farmer, for the Creator's sake! But, young and foolish as he had been, a teenage MacKenzie had grown bored of farm life. Seeing himself as being a Galactic Hero, he had run away at 15 and signed up with the Commonwealth Marine Corps. He saw himself swimming in medals, with women throwing themselves at him by the score. He cursed himself; how naive he had been. What a fool!

MacKenzie brought himself back to reality. Feeling sorry for himself wasn't going to help. He could almost see his buddies laughing at him. "What a wuss!" "Poor boy, scared of the dark." "Some Marine you are!" With those thoughts nagging at his mind, MacKenzie mustered up the last of his courage. Lifting his gun once more, he began to stride down to corridor.

And then, as sudden as it had come, his fear left him. Elation and joy filled his heart. For there in front of him, just made out in the light, the corridor came to an end. Beyond it was a chamber. And, from where MacKenzie stood, he could make out the forms of large computer consoles. It was the Bridge! He had found it! He paused just long enough to thank his luck and the Creator before almost running down the corridor.

His recklessness was his downfall. For, as he reached the first of the bridge controls, he felt a great weight strike him from behind. His Mag-boots lost their grip on the floor and he was driven into the ground. But his armour was not just for show. He managed to turn his body and swung his fist blindly at his assailant. Powerful actuators in his armour sprang to life, enhancing the blow to superhuman levels. His fist made contact with almost half a ton of force and his attacker was sent hurtling into the roof.

MacKenzie regained his wits and his gun, pointing it towards the roof. There, perched as though ready to leap again, was another man. He was clad in the dirty yellow armour of a Jupiter Rebellion soldier. Much lighter than MacKenzie's powered armour, it allowed for greater flexibility whilst still affording great protection. Even from here, MacKenzie could see the dent his fist had made in the chestplate but it was not ruptured. The soldier remained crouched on the roof, glaring at MacKenzie with hatred evident in his eyes. In his right hand he brandished a dark blade and MacKenzie recognised a knife made from Zero-G Fused steel, easily capable of penetrating his antiquated armour.

All other thoughts left MacKenzies mind and he almost smiled. Here was an enemy he could face! Lining up his weapon, MacKenzies finger was about to pull the trigger when a strange sound came to his ears. It was a hissing noise, not unlike a ruptured steam pipe... OR AN AIR HOSE! Panic and terror vied for attention as MacKenzie felt behind him. His worst fear was realised; The bastard Rebel had cut his air hose with that infernal blade of his. MacKenzie dropped his gun and began flailing behind him, trying desperately the reattach the hose. But it was all for naught. The more he struggled, the heavier he was breathing and the faster the remaining air in his helmet was running out. It was only a matter of time.

*

Lt Xi Ivanovich, Jupiter Rebellion forces, watched with satisfaction from his vantage point of the roof. The trap had worked. Another soldier of the oppressive Commonwealth forces lay dead in front of him. Xi pushed off from the roof and floated down to the soldier. He grabbed the much desired weapon wielded by this pawn of the Oppressors; The rebellion desperately needed more. Taking a moment to add a notch to the many already scratched on his armour, Lt Xi pushed off from a console and floated his way back down the corridor. This night's work was done.