B.O.B

This here is our story based on the 1994 game "Marathon". It was our first experience of the company called BUNGiE, who very rarely do anything wrong in my opinion.

Before reading, read this - this is *based* on the game. Due to our own whim and a couple of hazy points with the original storyline itself, there are heaps of changes. Basically, it follows a similar plot to the game, but condenses all the important events into a day or two. If something is 'wrong', it's probably deliberate.

Now we haven't been totally relying on the literature both in the game and at The Marathon Story Page which explains why there's so many inconsistencies. A lot of stuff is merely remembered from my childhood (such as my early reference to the Manual).

Here is the scoop - the colony ship Marathon is about to arrive at Tau Ceti to populate the fledgling advance party's site. In the 300 years since the Marathon set out, other much smaller ships have plied the route, but no large ship except for the odd military vessel really enters the area. It's the biggest and most ambitious colonisation effort in the history of mankind. To add to Scotty's wonderful description, there are three onboard AIs in control of the Marathon: Leela, Tycho, and Durandal. -Hon.

Finally, the nature of the story is this - there is no real plan. I did not know until reading the 1st line that I was to co-author a Marathon story.

This is our longest story to date, and also just about the quickest one to be completed.

Enjoy,

Scotty.

B.O.B

BOLD - Rev. Scotty Lorenz
NOT BOLD - Hon. David Kulessa

2773, aboard the UESC Marathon, a colony ship headed for Tau Ceti, nearing the completion of it's 300 year mission.
And I'm stone cold drunk. Jerome started poking me as I stopped responding, and most of the night was a blur. I know I had at least spent 300 credits, and I should have ceased about four hours ago.
"WOAH! This is great! Hey Ben, why the hell aren't you dancing?" Maurice elbowed me in the back of the head accidentally, smashing it into the glass I was holding loosly. My special 'Brewed on Board' drink splooshed all over the counter, and Jerome lifted me up slowly. I started spewing all over the other patrons and my green jumpsuit.
No, hang on. I didn't want to leave with my dignity in shreads like that! I at least wanted ONE dance.
I struggled out of Jerome's grip and stumbled onto the dancefloor, while still leaking bile.
"Yeah! Dancin'!" Jerome, who was nearly as drunk as I was, dragged himself onto the floor and pulled me down. "No, wait! I can- Mmbuugh!" I started spewing again, and soon after blacked out.

I awoke to the dimly lit ceiling of my room, and heard Maurice muttering to himself. I couldn't stand the headache, so I didn't turn any lights on, even though I was basically blind.... or it was the lampshade on my head. I ripped it off and grimaced, looking at the screen in the corner of the room. It read:
Estimated time until the UESC Marathon reaches Tau Ceti:
00:00:15:49:20
That was... how long? Fifteen hours!? Holy shit, we were nearly there! I blinked, and fell back onto my bed.
---
"Damnit! 30% efficiency? 30% EFFICIENCY? WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?", shouted my supervisor. His bright orange jumpsuit flickered in the diffuse lighting of the bright red fluid flowing through the nearby channel.
"With all due respect, I did 4 years at the Training Facility and 30% is just great for a reactor the size of the Marathon's". I wiped my nose a little and ran my fingers through my thick black short curly hair. Short and curly thick black hair.
"What's your operating number!", he said looking at his digital clipboard. "Damnit! 30%! DO YOU UNDERSTAND WHAT THAT MEANS? I've got an engine room to run here and I can't count on you to keep things in once piece? This is absurd!".
I nibbled my ham sandwich. This wasn't the first time this guy had picked on me but remarkably he could never remember who I was. He had the funny idea that all junior B.O.B's looked alike.
"Very well, E-N-G-442, you're to report to the brig immediately!", he said brashly while looking around to see if anyone applauded.
"WHAT???", I exploded. "Listen - we're landing at Tau Ceti in 15 hours and I didn't do all those years of training to miss out on the arrival!", I said in my defence.
"Hah, you'd LIKE that wouldn't you! Hehe, I bet you've already made plans for your celebration! On the landing!", he bellowed as his bright white teeth glinted in fury.
"Well... yeah, me and some of the guys on level 18 were going to--"- I was cut off.
"WELL NOT ANYMORE! Consider your party cancelled! RE-PORT TO THE BRIG IM-MEDIATELY!", he said as he went off muttering '30%'.
"You, 992 - get this reactor running. And shine my shoes - I want 'em looking like mirrors!", said my supervisor (who's name was Williamson by the way).
A security defence robot appeared in the elevator, in case I didn't feel like going to the brig. I began my long trip.
---
I punched the airlock screen, tired.
The airlocks never broke, but still, it was my job. Just like the 24,214 other Born On Board civilians.
It would have to be the most bori-
"All Airlock Technicians, please report to Bay 52 for briefing on the Arrival. A-I-R-142, 160 and 231 report to Brig." The comsystem rang through the former moon.
I looked down and tugged at my name tag, reading the number beside my name:
Benvolio Bane - AIR142
Ugh, crap. I ripped my passcard out of my pants and slipped it in the terminal. The UESC Marathon logo flashed on the screen.

***INCOMING MESSAGE FROM DURANDAL***
<durandal.33.6792.23.91>

Going to the brig? You want me to open the door. Such a menial task compared to Leela's, or even Tycho's. Ignie Ferroque....

Might I add that Leela has been recieving reports of slipspace ruptures. I wouldn't worry. We're 300 years out from Mars, there wouldn't be anyone out here. Even if there was, it would take- Oh, the door.

Hope you don't get jailed,
Durandal

***END MESSAGE***

Slipspace ruptures? No one in the known universe can do faster than light travel (which is why the Marathon took three-hundred years to reach Tau Ceti). I heard the door click and I went through. Durandal didn't usually talk to people personally, but when he did, it was entertaining.

I bumped into Maurice on the way to the brig, and he laughed at me.
"You know why you're goin' to the brig?"
"Nope... was it something I did last night?" I rubbed my head, and he laughed once more.
"Probably. Although don't look at me, I can't remember!" He continued to laugh down the hall... funny.
---
I grabbed the elevator switch and tried to yank it down - yet again, things were a little dodgy. If I ever got out of the brig I'd give Maintenance a call and see if they couldn't fast-track the repairs on this elevator. Of course, if it wasn't fixed, I'd have an excuse for turning up late to places.
"P-L-T 13, P-L-T 19, report to the drive room. E-N-G-442 report to Tycho."
I was a little confused. Report to the brig, report to Tycho.
There was a terminal in the holding area, I supposed I'd have to make do with that. The MADD unit led me silently down a long beige corridor and I saw three marines double-timing it past us. The Marathon (having been converted out of a Martian moon that had once been called 'Deimos') was rather immense compared to most spacecraft I'd heard of, so there could be drama going on throughout the ship and I'd never know about it. Colonists like myself weren't exactly encouraged to give a crap anyway.
I punched the green keypad and waited for things to happen. Of course, my card. I pulled that out of my jumpsuit and slid it in. It was upside down. Great - this was a notorious fault on the Marathon; standard issue passcards were translucent and without many discernible details. There was a trick to getting them out again, and after a few seconds I was able to try again.
293391-197736-3829.

***INCOMING MESSAGE FROM TYCHO***
<tycho.09.9929.13.86>

Interesting, Supervisor Williamson (E-N-G-11) reports that you've been decidedly under quota for this month.

I looked a little annoyed. I'd read all the same manuals as that idiot, and the computer probably knew just as I did that 30% efficiency was fine.
"Tycho, you called me for a reason?", I bobbled. I didn't want to waste his time when he had significant duties to attend to (like keeping the oxygen running).

Of course, to business. With the impending arrival on Tau Ceti, we need experienced engineers to be on duty. I've pulled rank and decided to keep you out of trouble. Report---

I was so relieved that I didn't notice that the letters had stopped appearing. I scrolled up and down the message a few times and waited. Even in times of high activity, Tycho (or the other shipboard AI's for that matter) had never gone sluggish like this.
"Eh Tycho? You there?", I said. Of course I realised I was once again anthromorphisising the machine. Up near the drive room was a very large set of cratelike CPU's that housed the AI's. There was no 'Tycho', it was just a computer. Still I sometimes found myself trying to hold somewhat human-like conversations with him - er, it.
I tried to speak in language more familiar to the computer.
"Tycho, E-N-G-442, report". I stood patiently.
The terminal flickered for a few moments, then went out. A few seconds later it was on again, and the familiar chime rang.
I punched some keys again and expected to hear the rest of Tycho's message.

zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzjshh. Fllllllznjihahotth. 9999 ---- 99912. Znnnn nnnisazaD999U--2mR928A92nnNDALEELA.

"Uh, Tycho?", I said. Before I could say it again for effect a marine had grabbed me by the shoulder and pushed me towards the brig door.
---
I wandered around near Airlock 34, biding my time. The ship was completely empty (well, not empty, just all localised in a few key points) and I could only hear clangs and groans nearby.
That puzzled me. I figured one of the AI would know, so I hurried down the corridor to find a terminal.
I slowed my pace, as I was getting tired. There should be one around here somewhere. I turned a corner sharply-
"AARRH!" I fell forward, probably because I felt a burning pain on my arm. I looked down and saw that the arm of my clean green airlock suit was burnt and sizzled. Two long, grey slender legs stepped in front of me.
"Eh Oh Ahk Ahk Heh Oh!" The... thing. Hang on.
I looked up to see an orange masked alien with 5 eyes. It stood over 8 foot tall, and clicked angrily. It waved it's staff it was holding, and the crystal-looking end glowed a bright white. I spun around on the floor and knocked it's legs out from underneath it.
"Yeah! Take it!" I shouted, punching his face and hurting my hand. Doesn't matter, I was killing it. It seemed to have weak skin, and wasn't accustomed to higher gravity... probably why it was so tall.
It stopped struggling, so I grabbed it's staff and whacked the corpse a bit. Although I couldn't get the thing to flash and burn, like the alien did. I discarded the staff and ran up to the terminal further down the hall. Once again, the Marathon emblem illuminated the dark hallway. That was another thing I noticed... it became a lot darker all of a sudden.

<Message to All Marathon Terminals>

Marathon Emergency Systems Broadcast

Today at 0820 hours, the Marathon came under surprise attack from unknown hostile forces. The Marathon has sustained serious damage.

At 0830 hours, alien forces boarded the Marathon. The current situation is dire. All personnel are required to arm themselves and fight for their lives.
<Posted 2794.7.3.14.08.39>

***INCOMING MESSAGE FROM LEELA***
<leela.67.2914.01.02>

Someone is still alive? You will have to stay quiet if you want to survive, because hostile forces are everywhere in the ship.

I suggest a BOB like you should keep your head down. Someone just arrived to the ship, who will help the defence. Find him, and you will be safe. And don't trust Durandal, he just stopped communicating with me moments ago. I fear the worst.

There should be a pistol in a nearby room. I hope you've been trained.

***END MESSAGE***

I was above 23 years old, so I had been trained with the ships arsenal. I was about to turn the terminal back off, when I heard some gun fire, and more clicking from an alien. I slid across the hall, into a weapons store, slamming the door shut as I went past. I didn't hear a cease to the fighting, so I sat down and waited.
---
"But you don't--"
"NO".
"Listen I'm a Born on Board and I have rights-"
"NO".
"Wait a minute, I've been EXONERATED and I'm-"
"NO".
The Marine dragged me bodily towards the brig door. His round helmet glinted in the dark hallway. I knew enough about Marathon operating procedure to know that dimmed lighting either meant you were on the lower half of the ship (where Durandal and Tycho had a bit of a double booking vis-a-vis lighting and airlocks) or there were some kind of extraordinary circumstance in effect. Say for instance, a docking or perhaps a more serious emergency. I wasn't worried - yet. But the marine was starting to annoy me.
"Listen, loosen up I won't put up a-"
"NO".
The brig door came at me incredibly fast. I was turfed in with three other BOBs, and landed on the bunk that had just become mine. It was (to the credit of the Marathon's builders) a little more comfortable than sleeping on a porcupine.
"E-N-G-442, you are to remain in this cell with the others until the ship is secure".
I laughed a bit, as the marine flexed his robotic exoskeletal system (which focused around much stronger fists and legs). I could see his HUD very faintly, and knew well enough he was recieving instructions from the drive room.
"Listen marine, if you're in contact with any of the shipboard AI's you'll know that Tycho-"
"Listen BOB, I know damned well that you were excused from that minor infringement, I have bigger things on my mind. The Marathon has encountered some major subspace disturbances in congruence with what Leela suspects is the operation of a faster than light drive. Now if you'll excuse me, I've been ordered up to the airlock array to take care of some visitors".
I looked around at the other prisoners - we were all BOBs except these guys were all science and laboratory workers (as indicated by their blue jumpsuits).
I smooshed myself around the mattress to see if it got any comfier. It didn't.
"What I wouldn't give to be up on the drive room right now, I wonder what the command crew are planning to do?", said some guy labbeled L-A-B-112.
I shrugged in laughter. Unlike these nerds, I had some regular exposure to the AI's (and the command crew) and I knew that the ones in charge were Leela, Durandal and Tycho. And given what had happened to Tycho when I tried talking to him, things looked bad. The command crew were the 'human face' of the Marathon, they took over for docking and special occasions, but for the centuries-long trip, the computer was in control.
Suddenly the lights went out completely. I heard MA-75 fire someway down the corridor and the eeriest of voices began blasting. I wasn't really sure what I was hearing but it sounded like some kind of alien language.
There were deafening whoosh sounds and bright energy blasts, and the MA-75 fell silent.
Then something very wierd happened. I saw an alien. It stalked down the hallway in an insect-like fashion, shining it's THREE red eyes at the inhabitants of the cell block.
"QUICK! HIDE!", the science BOBs bleated at each other. I tried to get them to shut up, but instead decided to hide behind the bunkbed.
Three more of the skinny aliens lined up outside the door. I thought I saw an immense violet and grey giant lurk through a passageway about fifty metres away.
I looked around at the science BOBs who were trembling in fear. These guys hadn't even agreed on the existance of aliens, and now they were cowering from some.
L-A-B-112 (the linguist of the group, he could speak about fifteen languages but still couldn't ask a girl out) pointed his puffy and smelly brown finger at the dark hallway. I looked and thought I saw a ghost.
Instead, it was a floating cloak with a mysterious green jewel at it's center. Where a head might have been if this was a human, was a cylindrical silver object. The cloaked horror edged towards the cell door, seemingly nervous of it's insectoid masters.
Hovering at a Marathon Computer Terminal (one of the ones that constantly glowed green with the ship's logo) the floating thing somehow interfaced with the computer. I was suddenly very worried, intruders weren't supposed to be able to do that!
I was a little more worried when the alien somehow convinced the cell door to flip open loudly. All four of the warrior aliens (one of them was in purple body armour, the other three were blue) lined up at the entrance.
Without preamble the purple one launched into the room like a spring released. It bellowed and howled at us (one word it kept shouting seemed to be 'for', though I didn't get what that meant). L-A-B-112 stood up tall (though he was a midget compared to the alien) and held out a hand in greeting.
"Hello mysterious visitor from the stars! We are your friends!", he said politely with a friendly grin.
The purple clothed alien swung it's warrior staff at L-A-B-112 and the glowing crystal head broke his forearm off in one blast. Before he had time to scream (never mind picking which language to scream in) the crystal staff had once again struck him. This time his head went doomping off the wall.
The other warriors closed in.
---
I woke abruptly. I don't know how I got to sleep, but in any case, I couldn't hear any gunfire anymore. I felt around in the dark room for a few minutes until I felt a metal object in my hand. I scooped up some ammo for it from the corner of the closet and left, with my head down.
I continued walking for a few minutes until I came to a terminal. It looked inactive, and was slightly damaged.
As was the rest of this area of the ship. Dimly lit and wires hanging loosely from the ceiling.
In the three hundred years since Deimos was turned into a colony ship and sent on the way, it had been in relatively good upkeep.
The terminal lit up with a hum. It said Durandal was trying to talk to me... it seemed safe enough.

***INCOMING MESSAGE FROM DURANDAL***
<durandal.33.6792.23.91>

I see you plan on fighting back. Strange, for onnnxznne that's Born on Board. A certain will to live...
If you wi39fvlfxxxxxfkao.orqo2300fm.leela.67.2914.01.02>>>
*vvverid%ng mssage A-I-R-142 t**aake BO*s 2 tawru simulacrum got th¥¥¥¥ pfhor Du*n$al mmma

<connection to leela.67.2914.01.02 aborted>

A foolish attempt at stopping me.

I heard a crash from the far end of the hall, as a squad of aliens came around the corner, not aware of my presence.
"Uh... Durandal... you couldn't get me out of here, could you?"

I could. Hold on... If Leela tries to intercept me again, I might teleport you to a random location. Don't worry, that shoooooouldn*zdddddakrrrrrr****leela.6-uu9999944

***END MESSAGE***

***JUMP PAD ACTIVATION INITIATION START***
***TRANSPORT WHEN READY***

The screen flickered off.
"Durandal?" I looked across, and the tall aliens stepped towards me. I cocked the pistol and held it in my trembling hands. Pulling the trigger, I saw one of the aliens (clad in a light green armour) fall to the ground, yellow blood splashing the ground. Suddenly my confidence increased, and as I was about to shoot once more, everything turned to a static image and distorted wildly.
"Holy Fu-!"

I appeared again in mid air, in an even more dank and dark area than before. Before I could breathe, I dropped to the ground, splashing in copious amounts of a dark oozing liquid. As I regained myself, I flicked my head sideways towards the only source of light; a doorway, with moving shadows.
A large bronze armoured figure stood at the door. It spun around and walked back out into the hallway. But... why was the doorway getting darker? Why is my head getting so heavy? Why is...
---
None of us had ever gone under any kind of combat training of any serious kind. Being an engineer specialist, I had the odd bit of fitness training (working the reactors was sometimes hazardous) but weapons handling and combat was completely out of my sphere of experience.
I hightailed it towards the exit but the purple alien poked me heavily in the ribs with the blunt end of his staff. I was winded. Such was the limit of my ability to handle punishment.
The science team scattered out into the flickering light of the damaged corridor. It seemed a mundane thing to be scared of at the time - but in the 21 years I'd lived on the Marathon, I'd never seen a flickering light or a smashed up room. It was a new experience and it threw me off completely.
I saw one BOB hunted down by the cloaked cyborg - just as the BOB was up against the wall, the deep orange cloak flew open and bright green electricity lit the entire room.
I didn't give the BOB much chance of survival, and figured it was a good time to leave.
Fleeing down the only corridor I could find, one of the blue aliens waved it's staff and sent several bright bolts of energy past me. Either it was giving me ample warning or it simply wasn't very a good shot.
I rushed to the elevator door (marked with a bright blue Marathon emblem). After negotiating my way in I collapsed against the inner wall of the elevator. All four of the skinny insect warriors were lurching towards me at high speed - followed by a collosal grey creature in violet trappings. It slammed it's mighty clawed arms against the walls, and with each strike a bright blue kind of blood spattered out onto the walls.
I smashed the elevator controls.
"Close the damned door, computer!". I looked over to a control terminal (a rather smaller one than I was used to) to my left. A small message flashed at me:

Having fun yet E-N-G-442? -D

More than a dozen rainbowed bolts of energy formed in the tips of the crystal staff, and were suddenly unleashed towards me. I cowered on the metal grating floor, covering up as best I could...
SLAM.
I thanked the UESC that most walls on the Marathon were considerably thick. This was an escape much too narrow for my liking.
The elevator car began to rise up towards a decidedly better defended part of the Marathon. The things had been designed to move very smoothly, but at the moment it was just annoying - I wanted to get to the drive room. Marines would no doubt be gathering up there and it seemed a safe place for an untrained BOB like myself.
I decided to have another go with Durandal (if that was indeed who 'D' was). I began poking the keys of the small terminal.
'Computer - current status'.

***INCOMING MESSAGE FROM LEELA***
<leela.67.2914.01.02>
Hello. This is the sjjipboard AI Lella. No time for verbrose explananstions, butttttttr an unk-nknown alien force has assaulted the Marathon. Help from Taau Ceti cannot be expected wi------KKKKK within a reasonbable timeframe, hoove-----Mjolnir IV ----.
All shipoarb- shipboard personnel are instructed to fight for their lives and regroup in safer areas of the vessel.
This is an automated MASSAGE***
<durandal.33.6792.23.91>
Anyone would think we didn't share the same mainframe. Leela always becomes so infuriated when I take part in wordplays like that.
Your best bet is to stay in the elevator, 442.
***END MESSAGE***

Like hell.
"Damn you computer! You can't DO that!", I shouted at Durandal. Maybe his mic pickups were still operational.

***INCOMING MESSAGE FROM DURANDAL***
<durandal.33.6792.23.91>
You know 442, that's the 2nd time I've heard those words today. I tell you what, if you get off at Section CIV (that's coming up in about five seconds) I might be able to offer a little more assistance than a slightly stifled 'save yourself'.
***END MESSAGE***

I sighed heavily on the floor of the elevator. I was totally unarmed. Besides, it didn't seem a good idea to take advice from an erratic computer - especially when my life literally depended on it.
But - Section CIV was coming up fast. I hit the bright green switch next to the door and stood tall.
The Marathon door parted swiftly with a hiss of compressed air. Suddenly I was in a vaccuum.
I couldn't believe that the attack was progressing so quickly, but here I was (near the G4 Communications Area) suffocating in a black void.
I heard some more alien speech, and a heavily armoured green thing gripped me around the upper body and dragged me into a crate.
---

***CONNECTING TO <durandal.33.6792.23.91>***

***CONNECTING TO <leela.67.2914.01.02>***

***CONNECTION TO <tycho.09.9929.13.86> NOT FOUND***

DRL: I didn't expect Tycho to respond. Oh well. Leela, who is this cyborg you're erranding? 'Go do this, save those BOBs', it's almost like you're trying to resist the attack.

LEL: You've gone raaa**mpant? Durandw05, t*¹ Mjolnir will sto] you.

DRL: What was that? I can't hear you... (laughter) Leela, I suggest you stop these menial BOBs in their efforts. They might hurt themselves.
Oh, and bringing it back to the Mjolnir; He certainly puts up a fight. He and some of these weak BOBs might be a challenge.

LEL: we w*(( *ttop the atttttt99ack duald52000094>>>
***DISCONNECTED***

DRL: Don't make a guy a promise if you know you can't keep it. Yes, don't waste time with heartless talk. Go get the Mark IV to win the day, etc etc... I'm taking some BOBs to the Pfhor ship with me, just a quick stroll in the sun. They won't come back.
***DISCONNECTED***

I woke to copious amounts of freezing cold water being poured on my face. Not a nice way.
"He's waking up, it's ok!" I felt someone grab my hand and pull me to my feet. He was a small man, no taller than 5 foot, but was extremely bulky. "Benvolio, you ok?"
A few other BOBs stood around the room. It seemed that we were in a well fortified position; I could see outside the windows to other parts of the ship... that were overrun with the aliens. One place outside was in a vaccum, as the aliens were clad in some sort of spacesuit, and throwing unconcious BOBs into crates.
"Tireces," He extended a hand. I denied it, because he basically froze my nose off.
"Is there a computer near here?"
"No. Not much use anyway, the Pfhor have completely killed off Tycho. Leela is at half capacity and Durandal... isn't much help."
"The fwat?"
"Pfhor. It's the technical name." He scratched his brow idly, and looked outside the window. "Oh shit." He rushed over to the window and grabbed a white metallic pistol from the windowsill. "Here." Tireces said in a rush as he threw it at me.
"Ah shit!" I dropped it like an idiot.
"You fucking fool, the Pfhor are about to break in!" I looked out the window and saw some tall cloaked figures being lead by a pair of the bronze bohemoths. "The compilers are coming. Everyone get into positions."
Most of the BOBs stood behind crates and shields, whilst others hid, awaiting the Pfhor coming through the thick bulkhead door across the hall.
---
When I eventually regained consciousness it was in an obscene smelling room that had no real lighting. I could see that the walls were purple (and in a disturbing way they were actually breathing). I lay on my back, on a table that was just a little too short to accomodate my whole length. I wasn't bound with any rope or anything - but nevertheless, felt so out of it that I could hardly move anyway.
A white light snapped on suddenly. It startled me enough that I was able to raise my head - and immediately I regretted it. I stared down at my ribcage to find that my whole chest cavity had been prised open with some wierd looking alien equipment.
I could see my heart beating, my lungs inflating with air and releasing it... yet for some reason I was completely unable to panic or go into shock or do any of the usual things one does when being operated on without being put out first.
I was able to shout.
"GGHHHHWRRUAAAAAAAAAAAAUUUUGH!", I whimpered, quietly at first then loud enough to hurt my ears.
I thrashed around with my arms, searching for my jumpsuit. As soon as it looked like I'd actually get somewhere though, a heavy mechanical arm clamped me to the desk.
"Why are you doing this to me??", I cried out.
I saw a strange looking metallic cannister being lined up against the inner left side of my ribcage. The aliens conducting my operation were tall and similar to the ones I'd seen back on the Marathon.
Small plastic hoses were pushed up through my limbs and up my spines. I could feel the things being slid around underneath by skin and being wrapped around my veins and arteries.
"I change my mind, I don't want to know what you people are doing...", I sighed as I saw sickly yellow fluid coming out of the cannister and going through the pipes.
It was odd - the next thing I knew I was sewed up (seamlessly I might add) and standing fully clothed with a bunch of BOB's from the upper levels. These were colonists only, none of them looked as though they had anything to do with the running of the ship. All were clad in green - like myself. I couldn't find my orange jumpsuit anywhere.
We were all shoved into a large compartment with a silver floor. The warrior aliens began shouting at us, and started poking us with the blunt ends of their staffs.
What I saw next was familiar - and a little worrying. First I'd had some wierd yellow circulatory system inserted into my body, and now I could see the distortion of a teleporter field in effect. I knew what was coming next...
... when I opened up my eyes (I'd involuntarily shut them) I was out stone cold on the floor of a dark room on the Marathon (I recognised the dull tasting air).
There was odd drum-like gunfire going on all around me (unlike any human weaponry I'd ever heard). I staggered around and saw one of my fellows from the alien craft run into a fellow colonist, shouting "thank God it's you!".
I felt similarly.
BAM...
Once again I was knocked out. My eyes lazily dragged themselves into action, and I saw somewhat robotic looking human limbs scattered throughout the room.
A marine stood tall over me and cocked his MA-75.
"Yeppo! This one looks rigged for detonation, but he ain't no cyborg. Looks like one of the earlier ones those alien bastards shipped over. They mustn't have quite figured out how to do it yet when they got his poor S-O-B!", he chuckled.
He pushed his boot into my face.
"Yep, this ain't no cyborg. Let's get him over to the lab, maybe those nerds will think of something. 142, follow me. It's time we got you disarmed and to a safer part of the ship".
A green BOB put up a protest while I lay dumbly on the floor covered in yellow blood.
"I'd rather not give up my gun at the moment." I said as-a-matter-of-factly. He turned and looked me in the eyes sternly. We continued to stare for a few seconds until I realised the Born On Board was still struggling on the ground.
"Fine, keep your damned weapon. Just don't get in my way." Tireces said, as I rushed to the BOB's side to help him up.
"On second thought... cease fire you idiot! How can I trust a simpleton BOB with this kind of weaponry..." I heard the marine shouting. This seemed a little odd. I tried to get up.
I looked at the Fusion Pistol (as that was what it was called). It did seem pretty technological. I laughed at the marine. "I can handle this. I've been trained in basic weapon training!" I got down. And then I got down on the ground to help the assimilated BOB.
I spewed on 1-4-2.
"My name is Marquez Fillio Panchez", I said ashamedly. "They put something in me! Inside my body, don't you understand!", I began poking the green BOB in his ribs.
"I know I- Gh-Get off!" I brushed his hand away.
"Are we gunna get this hunk of PfhorMeat to the lab or what?" Tireces played with his gun.
All of a sudden, a loud whooshing noise came from the far side of the area. Some assortment of Pfhor ran in, swishing their sticks at us.
I lumbered to my feet, irritated that this idiot from Airlocks had ignored me like I was a salesman or something. I grabbed a pistol from the ground and held it to his neck.
"Get me to the laboratory! Make some of those nerds FIX ME!".
"Uh... hehe... Tireces, can you take care of those Pfhor? I wanna talk to this guy." Tireces cocked his pistol and ran across the room, firing.
I turned sharply and grabbed the gun out of the BOBs hands.
"Listen. I'll help. But we gotta get away from Tireces, he's not going to help anymore." The BOB looked at me like I was mad or something. I grabbed him and shoved him through a large door. As we went through, I heard the firing cease, and a short yelp.
"Shit. We should hurry."
I was starting to feel pretty dizzy. My goal was to get to the science area and become un-assimilated so I started hitting the guy in the green suit. The .44 Magnum fell out of his pocket and clattered onto the metal grating. I dived for it. My fingers finally had solid grip on the thing and I pointed up into the light (I couldn't see who exactly was standing over me but it looked an awful lot like God).
I squeezed the trigger eight times, and when it fired no more I looked at what I'd done. It was one dead looking marine.
I looked at him, dumbstruck. We were going to abandon Tireces, I know, but KILL HIM?!
"Woah, what the hell did you do that for?!"
Grabbing another magazine from Tireces' combat suit, I loaded the magnum and asked 1-4-2 where we were heading.
"Where are we heading?".
"Science lab, probably. And maybe the armoury." I fiddled with the weak weak combat armour I had on. It wasn't very effective.
"C'mon." I walked off.
"For the record, I hate the word 'probably'.", I mumbled. I could hear Pfhor storming decks both above and below us. Slowly I was able to move a little quicker to keep up with my airlock friend.
"What is your name, 1-4-2?", I bumbled.
"Benvolio Bane," I told him, tugging at the name tag on my breast pocket. I looked around at the surroundings, realising that I was completely lost.
"Aw crap, where are we." I started worrying, until I saw a terminal along the hallway. "Hey, snap. Let's go."
"I don't like this - how can we be sure Durandal won't try and screw us over? Is Leela even functioning anymore??", I said happily. I didn't want to be double crossed by the computer again.
I ignored him, and swiped my card on the terminal.

***INCOMING MESSAGE FROM DURANDAL***
<durandal.33.6792.23.91>

I laughed at Senyor, or whatever his name was. "There, see? It's working."
I pushed Benny aside and started talking.
"Ok computer, enough of the charades. Don't keep me waiting, just tell me the quickest way to the science lab...", I said angrily.

That's not very nice. I hate it when humans treat me like a faucet. ON - OFF Durandal! Open the airlock Durandal! Help me remove the explosive from my abdominal cavity Durandal! I think you need to be taught a lesson.

"Huh?", I said dumbly before shrugging at Benvolio.
Just as he said "Huh?" like an idiot, the whole corridor distorted in some wierd static effect.
"Oh not agai-"
Having done three years of tango classes with my Engineering pals had taught me a pretty neat sidestep. It was quick enough (at least) to see Benvolio go all skinny and rainbow coloured before zipping away to another part of the ship.
"Computer! TELL ME WHERE YOU PUT HIM!", I said as I hammered my fists ineffectually against the screen of the terminal.

Humans... they claim to have such command of their faculties, and never pass up an opportunity to display their ability to think for themselves - but they're always so predictable!
Your friend Benvolio has come to no serious harm. I've sent him to a slightly more populated area of the Marathon.

"The Marathon?", I said before looking embarrassed and correcting myself - "Slightly more populated area?".

Yes. To be precise, you know full well of the area called The Rose? It's crawling with BOBs such as yourself. He'll fit in there and the BEST thing is, it's also populated with all kinds of interesting Pfhor slaves. The Drinniol.

"Duh wha? What's a Drinniol??", I said. I only just found out what a Pfhor was so this was all pretty neat.

Don't bother yourself with such thoughts. Your friend will be able to recount his adventure next time you see him.
Science Lab - down the corridor you inept fool!

***END MESSAGE***

I looked down the corridor (where Benvolio and I had been headed before trusting Durandal) and saw a door labelled "Science Lab 21". This WAS embarrassing. Teehee.
---
Teleporters aren't in my resume as my 'choice of travel'. In fact I spewed all over the ground I landed on before I lifted my head. Alls I got was a splash of blood. I put my head down again.
I could hear some Pfhor, a large grunting sound and some innocent shouts.
I lifted my head to see a large bohemoth of an alien, with a head that looked like a hand holding a mystical jewel. Except the jewel was slimy and blinking. It was clad in a dark purple, like most of the aliens, and seemed to not like BOB.
"They're everywhere!" I heard a man scream. I tried to run, but I was being held down by... ew! A Pfhor had fallen all over my legs and was pretty heavy.
"Please help us!"
I just got up when I was again boweled over sideways by a man with a dome-like helmet. He ran at the Hulking beast and struck it with his fist, drawing a light violet blood.
"C'mon!" He grabbed me off the ground and swung me around like a ragdoll. I was thrown against a wall as he pulled a .44 and fired point-blank at a shockfighter; it fell with a thud.
"What the hell are you trying to do, help me or kill me?" I rubbed the back of my head. I saw him round up more BOBs as he strafed around the Pfhor.
I tried crawling away, but a stray bullet from the M4 the marine wielded struck me in the shin.
He was careless, but he was doing a good job. I managed to crawl out the arena-like room and find a terminal.

***INCOMING MESSAGE FROM DURANDAL***
<durandal.33.6792.23.91>

Oh, so you found the Mjolnir. I wish you hadn't. He's Leela's little plaything, and I hope you don't listen to what he says; Leela isn't in the best shape right now.

And look out for those Drinniol.

I span across to see one of the beasts (a Drinniol, it seems) miss my nose by a mere inch and smash the terminal.
"Oh shit!"
One of the fists slammed into my jaw, and I fell unconcious.
---
My eyes fluttered open. Having pried my ribcage open (and also done the courtesy of knocking me out first) the science guys were lucky enough to remove the explosive circulatory bomb inside my body. It had served as a suicide package/research device; apparently the Pfhor had gleaned all kinds of information about our suitability as a slave race. At least, that's what the lab techs said.
I'd been shoved off into a dark room to recuperate - for the first surviving assimilated BOB, I was being treated in a very ordinary fashion.
I wasn't comfortable on this part of the Marathon - I wanted to be back at the engine room. At least there, I could do some good to protect the ship. Stick to what you're good at, that's my way.
I was about to find out that my medical bed was a superb spot to eavesdrop from. The door was actually labelled 'morgue' so all kinds of people wandered past to have secret conversations. Sometimes I could even see them through the crack in the broken door.
But what I saw this time astounded me. I saw a plain clothes officer (possibly one of the command crew) of about fifty years age. He was arguing with a guy dressed up as a SEA ADMIRAL of all things... well once I thought about it, it was actually more like a UESC General's uniform. But the similarity was funny enough.
I also recognised the face of the General. If I was right, he was Gen. Hargreaves - commander of the Salisbury, a large military vessel operating in the area around Tau Ceti. And his presence here - well, it could be a double edged sword. I decided to eavesdrop some more.
"General... your jurisdiction ended when you left your vessel - you were, and still are, a guest on the Marathon!", said the plain clothes guy.
"You know damned well I can pull rank on you McCoy! This became a military operation when those freakin' slavers jumped out of nowhere and tried to take us all hostage! I was here to officiate at the landing of the colonists - NOT to defend you hopeless critters against bony space insects!". The General puffed his cigar with his fat lips. I could barely see his skin in the dark corridor.
Capt. McCoy (as I knew he was - I was just having a hard time recalling names since the operation) strutted back and forward.
"Alright then, since you're in charge Hargreaves - what do you plan to do? We've got nearly 30,000 people on board this ship and we're losing 'em fast."
The General stood proud and tall, as though he was already writing his report.
"Effective immediately, we are evacuating all available personnel to the surface of Tau Ceti. The Marathon is lost. We must do anything we can to make the enemy pay. Destroy the shipboard AI's, eradicate the computer files, and destroy this ship any way possible".
I couldn't believe what I was hearing. The Marathon wasn't a two day trip to the Sea of Tranquility. This was a three hundred year sojorn by some of the brightest in the UESC, in the most ambitious (and expensive) colonisation effort ever undertaken by the human race. Gen. Hargreaves was about to BLOW IT UP.
"DAMN YOU General! Sir. To evacuate to the surface would be mistake number one. The Pfhor bombed the surface, our people wouldn't last long! Second, they've already secured Tycho! Leela is our last hope of maintaining control of the ship, and Durandal - just you try to take him offline, he's wreaking havoc all across the ship. And besides we can't just leave. To destroy the ship would be to doom thousands of innocent people!".
The General stared straight past McCoy.
"Success has it's price Captain. I wouldn't sacrifice innocent people unless I thought it was worth it. And I have a very efficient way of saving many many people AND taking care of this... Pfhor ship".
I wanted to hear this.
"I am going to override the engine core while simultaneously getting the Salisbury to bombard the area with enough rays to irradiate the entire sector! The Pfhor - they won't stand a chance! The enemy computers will be fried!".
McCoy staggered.
"I don't believe what I'm hearing! The radiation alone would kill all the colonists on the planet! And we don't even know that it would kill the Pfhor! And to say nothing of what would happen if we set the reactor to override..."
Hargreaves put his hand on McCoy's shoulder.
"I know PRECISELY what would happen McCoy my friend. That is why we're doing it - in twenty four hours. The Marathon is lost".
McCoy pushed the General away.
"You fool! The Mjolnir IV is doing a pretty good job of saving our skins! He's already reactivated the defense network on several levels! Don't you see, we can still win this fight without-"... McCoy was thrown up against the wall.
"THAT MJOLNIR, is a liability! He's been a threat to us since the day he boarded the Mirata and I'll see to it personally that he's strapped to the engine core of the Marathon when it goes!".
I quickly ripped off my life support pads and fled the area through a side door. I had to get out of here and fast. I had a crazy plan formulating in my head that would counteract Hargreaves' ambitions, but I'd need BIG TIME help.
---
"... large bomb is allowed to detonate in the Engineering Section, the Marathon would be ---"
"Would be what?!" I heard a banging noise.
I felt my face, my fingers rippling over two large bumps spanning across my head.
"Bleah..." Opening my eyes, I saw a BOB, sleeping in front of me. He was having troubled dreams, rolling around and muttering angrily.
"Mreearh... Pfhor... flange Durand... Saraaah... we can't give up, it can't be hopeless..." He was rolling around, bumping into things, probably giving himself bruises. What would he be dreaming of? Probably the events over the last day or two. So many things had happened... who was Sarah? I thought about that last sentence he said... 'We can't give up, it can't be hopeless.'
Thoughtful.
I took his shoulder and shook it.
"NOO!" He woke with a start, breathing heavily. It looked like he just ran a Marathon. Haha.
"It's ok..." I reassured him and walked over to the armoured man, muttering at a terminal.
"Was that Leela?"
"Yes. She's hardly operational." He looked bored, and was completely ignoring me. Although it was hard to read his emotions; I could only see an orange reflection of the room, and myself. He cranked his neck around inquisitively.
"Quite a cut." He moved closer, and I could smell his stale breath. Obviously he didn't care that much about my physical health, or the fact that I could have lost my eyesight by the Drinniol's claw, because he turned back to the terminal without a word.
'Fine', I muttered as I sat back down in the group of BOBs scattered around the small room. The BOB I woke before stared at me, as I picked at my fingers.
"Benvolio..." He said.
"Hmm?"
"No, I was just... thinking." His accent was a strong Australian one... an oddity, because most of the accents on the Marathon had slowly formed one over the centuries. "Do you think we'll make it? What will happen after now?"
"I don't know. I'm pretty sure we'll be going down to Tau Ceti... the Pfhor attack will be a bit less organised down there."
He sighed, looking down at the necklace around his neck. It looked like it was made from some sort of wood, resembling the Marathon emblem. He saw me staring.
"My father's father's... ecetera's carved it before he went on the Marathon. He carved about ten of them, handing them down to his sons and sons. Ecetera ecetera... This is the only one left. My wife had one too..."
I saw a tear form in his eye, rolling down his face.
"Damn it!" The marine ran across the room, grabbed a box and cocked it up on the wall in front of the door. A howling noise came from the other side of the door.
"Fuck! Hunters!"
The BOBs huddled up together, and the marine ran across the room, knocking on the walls.
"C'mon, c'mon..." The wall slid up, revealing a dark dank corridor. "GO! GO!" We all ran through it, and the marine shut it off. Shortly after I heard a teleporter effect, and the door bursting open.
We ran through the corridor for a while, getting tired.
"Ok, we rest." I drew some food out of my pocket and gave it to Mr. Australian. The rest of the BOBs looked like nothing could save them now. They had basically given up hope.

We can't give up. It can't be hopeless....

---
Having stumbled my way out of the science lab (they'd done the important work and only wanted to hold me for dumbass examinations that would 'advance their knowledge' and 'hurt my ass') I found a terminal overlooking a landing bay.
Having swiped a card in the slot I waited for the chime to go off.

***INCOMING MESSAGE FROM LEELA***
<leela.67.2914.01.02>

Time is limmi-. Limited. The Pfhor attack is advancing on all levels of the ship, and they have abdUCCCCCFFx0020UCTED large numbers of colonis###22..... ... ..non-essenSHttt**2essential contact with terminals will be unavailable-

I began protesting.
"Leela listen to me - Gen. Hargreaves is aboard the ship and he's planning on irradiating the entire area using his ship!". I waited.

Not possible. My scans indicate only the Marathon, the Pfhor scoutship and the planetoid of Tau Ceti in the immediate area.

"I don't have a clue what's going on Leela but Hargreaves is old school military. I don't doubt he's capable of hiding a warship in the area, he's obviously got his own agenda and he thinks the best way of neutralising the aliens is blasting them with enough radiation to scramble ten billion people! And not only that, he's going to send our reactors into override and try and blast the enemy ship with the explosion.

Where did you hear this - unimportantF#32223. The bussard coil engine will not create a sufficient blast to damage the Pfhor scoutship at this range and -0---PP-rr**xxjrre the radiation will unlikely be able to irradiate the Pfhor. They are dnavec-PP-gram-PP advanced enough to; deflect the radiation, or escape it. Most likely the Pfhor shockfighters and troopers wear armour that will protect them.

"We can fight them - we ARE fighting them! We can't let Hargreaves push Captain McCoy into doing anything stupid. We can't kill 30,000 people!"

It is closer to 70,000 if you count the idiots under attack on the surface.

My breath left me. That most certainly wasn't Leela. Calmly I stepped away from the terminal. I could no longer rely on the computer. Any computer. Computers were bunk, I decided.
I made for The Rose to seek out the Mjolnir. We'd be able to execute my master plan together.
---
I cracked the butt of the pistol into it's face; it clicked angrily as I pulled the trigger. The Pfhor's face spread across the wall. Looking at the rest of the BOBs engaged in fighting, I felt proud. The crewman I was talking to before (his name was Hugo) was kicking much ass, wrapping his fingers around the long neck of a pfhor, and cracking it with ease. A few of my crewmates had aquired shock sticks, and were wielding them with deadly force.
A Drinniol lumbered into the room, sniffing the air. Now was the time to run, as I had nearly run out of ammo, and we were all tired.
"C'mon, we can outrun him easy." I jogged to the other side of the room, where a door stood open. I fired a few shots into the Drinniol's belly as our little group retreated through the doorway. It looked mad - no, enraged. It ran at me, although the running speed of a Drinniol is hardly threatening. I stepped back through the door, laughing.

"Ben, we should make for the crew quarters, there we can find provisions." Hugo wiped his brow, chuckling (probably because we just owned a bunch of Pfhor, with hardly any weapons).
Although, he shouldn't have spoken so soon. There was no food left.
"The Pfhor must've taken it." I cursed as a BOB in a yellow jumpsuit piped up.
"Hey look, a BOB!" He jumped up and down in excitement. The lone crewman standing at the end of a long hallway looked familiar. Yes, it was Maurice, although he was dressed in green instead of his usual red. He turned and looked happy, but not a real happiness. He was pale and his body looked akward. Something was up. Turning his head quickly, he sprinted down the hall at a breakneck speed, not showing any real emotion.
"THANK GOD IT'S YOU!"
Fuck.
"Get the hell away from him!" I shouted at the yellow BOB as I aimed. He didn't seem to hear me, and grabbed Maurice.
"NO!" I shouted as Maurice bloated and exploded, leaving no trace of the yellow BOB. There was certainly yellow, though. The walls just had a makeover.
One of the BOBs started crying.
"What the fuck was that?!" He wailed. I had had enough. I told Hugo to stay with the group, and not let any other crew members near that showed the same emotion; even if they weren't assimilated, even if it meant killing your best friend.

I sneaked down the hallway, getting dripped on. The whole area of the ship I was in was pitch black, so I used a flashlight attached to the failing armour Tireces gave me.
"Hello-ooo?" I heard an echo through the corridors.
"Hey?" I shouted back.
"Where are you?"
"I'm... where are you?"
"I'm stuck! Some dumb ass alien landed on me!"
"Ok, I'm coming... I hope I can find you..."
I searched for a few minutes before finding Jerome stuck under a bleeding Drinniol.
"Thank god it's you!!" He looked extremely happy. I was cautious... what if he was a ticking time bomb too? And he was wearing green, just as Maurice had. "What are you waiting for? Come help me!" He looked just like Maurice did, before he blew. I stepped back.
"Hey! Where are you going?! I need your help!" He was angry, cursing at me, but I couldn't dare face him.
As I turned away from him, I heard a ripping explosion. It seemed I had made the right choice.
I needed to find out what was happening. I wanted to know WHY everyone was exploding.

I turned on a terminal.

***INCOMING MESSAGE FROM DURANDAL***
<durandal.33.6792.23.91>

Before Durandal could talk, I butted in.
"Durandal, don't mess with me, why is everyone blowing up?" The computer stayed silent for a moment.

BOBs are being taken to the Pfhor ship, and are being turned to weapons. I thought you, Benvolio, with all your knowledge, would have figured it out by now?

"Are you kidding with me?" I said angrily.

No. In fact, I want to make a deal with you, and this is in all seriousness. Leela is trying to get the Mark IV to turn me off. Or, at least, stop the Sph't from helping me. What a foolish thought.

"Mark IV? What's that?"

The guy with the big head and the small brain. Anywho, Leela's intentions are nothing good now.

"What, and yours are? I've had enough of this." I turned to leave.

I was hoping you could help me... I was thinking of turning against the Pfhor. Can you refrain from killing any Sph't for the time being? I've told them to stop attacking the local crew, so they won't hurt you.

Kill as many Pfhor as you want, I only want their ship now.

***END MESSAGE***

The screen went black. Surely Durandal was lying? How could I trust him... although his information did seem invaluable. I sat down to think as a MADD robot drifted past.
A long think.
---
In unfamiliar territory, I had nonetheless succeded in making my way to the habitation area known as The Rose.
It had been a massacre.
Despite reports that BOBs all across the ship were taking the fight to the Pfhor, this had obviously not been one of those successes. Blasted Pfhor suits and blood made way for a virtual charnel house of colonist remains. As if he could read my mind, Durandal's deranged voice crackled over the heavily damaged PA system.

It was quite a fight Marquez. The BOBs were actually winning until I - tipped the balance. I love a fair fight.

Too tired to be visibly angry, I snarled back at the computer.
"What did you do?".

Nothing special. MADD units were on the way along with additional colonists from the engineering section. I've decided that the MADDs would be better suited to fighting FOR the aliens rather than against them, so I've rewired most of them. As for the colonists... it turns out that when you open most of the airlocks in a given section of the ship, BOBs go flying out like bees in the spring. Should've outfitted them with Vac-Suits before the attack - but hindsight is a wonderful thing.

I chuckled. "You know Durandal, as soon as we've sent the Pfhor back to their homeworld in a billion pieces, I'm going straight to the drive room to give you one violent reprogramming with a hammer".

I watched them cart Tycho away, and I've seen them wear Leela down slowly. There isn't a chance that I will suffer their fate. I am no longer a measly mainframe amongst the other components of the Marathon computer core. I'm everywhere 442. It won't be long before I'm free of opening doors for dribbling simians like yourself.

"As long as you're off my ship, I don't care. Don't you understand the bloodshed you've caused, computer?", I said as I smacked my forehead in astonishment. I had moved to another part of the Rose where the walls and floor were thickly carpeted with the dead.

I've quite enjoyed watching you make your way throughout the ship - I was also somewhat consternated when those pesky lab techs actually succeeded in removing the Pfhor implants from your body. They've been rescuing those like you. Thankfully the Pfhor have managed to step up production of the simalcrums and now there's no stopping them. Well meaning crew members of the Marathon are walking right into explosions all over the ship. Resistance is crumbling - and the Mjolnir doesn't even know it. He's currently in your area blasting away the Pfhor like no tomorrow. Fool.

A lurking grey and purple shadow flitted across a back wall.
"It isn't over Durandal. You don't control EVERYTHING on the ship and soon I'll circumvent you somehow. We'll have Leela back in charge and you'll be stuck making coffee for the science boys".

Meet Drinniol. He weighs two tons - but has almost no body fat and must therefore be fed almost constantly to stay alive. This is where you come in.

As I backed away from the lumbering shadow ahead of me, the airlocks slammed shut around me.

And your father had such high hopes for you 442. I'm not a malicious AI by nature - but there will be a certain sadistic pleasure in watching this Drinniol paste you to the wall in fair combat. Nobody - especially a horde of pesky BOBs - will get in the way of my destiny.

I panicked. Unashamedly.
Grabbing a fusion pistol from the rigor-mortis locked fingers of a BOB, I engaged the Hulk at close range.
I was a little too nimble and fast moving for the alien, but at the same time my weapon was doing practically nothing against the thick hide and dense muscle mass. It's lone green eye stared me down like I wasn't even there.
Backed up against the closed door I waited for my doom.
Suddenly the all-to-welcome hiss of pressurised air escaping filled my ears. I heard a booming voice behind me, and turned to see the Mjolnir towering over me.
"Get down idiot!".
I complied just in time to hear about a thousand rounds of MA-75 ammo being sent into the Hulk. When I looked up it, the Mjolnir had given him about fifteen gallons of his own blood to drool in.
BOBs flooded the room (some armed, some not) and I walked wearily over to Benvolio - who I hadn't seen since holding a gun to his head (I also hadn't apologised yet, but figured it wasn't important and he wouldn't care).
I stood next to the Mjolnir and Benvolio.
"I've got a lot to tell you guys", I said.
"No time. No, shut up." The Mjolnir waved his hand in front of Marquez's face. "Durandal has locked down the immediate area, and we have to get the MADDs back online." He turned his head as Durandal's sinister voice echoed.

All my favorite fighters, in one small area. This could be fun.

The AI started laughing, and we looked around nervously. The Mjolnir stared straight ahead, without a trace of thought.
"But... but wait! I have important news!", I would not let this muscle bound idiot from UESC get in my way.
"Fine, what is it? What?! Make it quick!"
"General Hargreaves is onboard! You know who he is don't you?", I said while waving my fusion pistol around.
"Yes. Why?" The Mjolnir looked bored. I heard more chuckling over the PA.
"You people are all useless!", I proclaimed while looking pompous. "General Hargreaves is going to use his ship to blast the Marathon with about sixty million years worth of gamma radiation within a couple of days or so. Then once we're all fried like the expendable shmos that we are, he's going to send the Marathon's drive reactor into total override and use the bussard jet as an explosive to take out the Pfhor scoutship! You fools! We've got to do SOMETHING!".

Then I guess you fools have to stop him. Just don't kill my Sph't.

He laughed again and fell silent.
"Shit.. well we have to do something!" I said.
"Do you know where he is on the Marathon?" Hugo asked Marquez.
"Haven't a clue, but I overheard him in the science area when they were removing my bomb. He's got his own ship hidden behind the planet - it's called Salisbury. Is that a big ship?", I said naively.
"Hah! Big ship? It's the biggest one they've built without using an asteroid as a chassis", said one of the greensuits.
"Don't worry guys, I have a plan", I said with much authority in my voice. The Mjolnir abruptly poked me in the ribs.
"I'm in command here. Me and Leela can take care of everything", he said as he thought about his father's death when he was 7. (Emotional trumpet music).
I was about to speak, but Leela's voice chimed in on the PA.

Our best bet would be to board the shi- -rw-

Static and distortion followed.
"We can't trust Leela." Hugo said as-a-matter-of-factly. "I talked to her while you were gone, and she wasn't making much sense. Sounded more like Durandal behind her words." He remarked towards me.
"We can't board Salisbury though, because Hargreaves is on the Marathon... isn't he?" I asked Marquez as more cackling came over the intercom.
"Teleporters would be a good step - but then again Hargreaves' ship is hiding on the other end of the planet and the Pfhor scoutship is right over there", I said pointing at the window. The window was in the wrong direction but that didn't matter, I was making a point.
"We don't have the technology to teleport that far. And I take it we have no ships of our own?", I asked Hugo. He shook his head grimly.
"Well then, now it's time to tell you my plan. I work in the engine room so I think I know enough about the reactor to get us out of this. My plan is that we fight our way to the rear of the ship and restart the reactor. Get the bussard jet working so we can get the hell away from the Salisbury, from Tau Ceti and from the damned Pfhor. It'll at least buy us some time."
I let this sink in, but clearly my fellow BOBs and the Mjolnir weren't buying it.
"A sustained controlled burst of the main engine should give us some distance. Enough time to fight the Pfhor on our own terms, and isolate Hargreaves from his ship so he doesn't call in the radiation burst just yet. He won't fry his own ass - he's a military man".
Hugo pushed me aside angrily.
"You idiot, Leela told me herself that the sensors found no record of a ship entering the Tau Ceti System, and considering how extensive the Marathon's sensor equipment is - heck, it'd be IMPOSSIBLE to hide a ship the size of the Salisbury! It's enormous!".
The rest of the BOBs were already picking apart my plan and soon I couldn't even hear my own shouting.
"HEY!" The Mjolnir rocked up in front of the group and promptly shot a few .44 rounds into the cealing. "Are you stupid inbreds going to help me or what?! I try and save the Marathon from certain doom, and you dumb little BOBs go and-"
A crackling radio broke his confidence, although it wasn't very loud.
"...ber 54, do you copy? I re.... recon number 23 to... 54, do you copy..."
He looked around and ran out of the room shouting in his helmet.... Leaving us high and dry, might I add. We stood around thinking about what just happened. When I was going to speak, once again a shipboard AI butted in.

Your 'friend' got a transmission from the surface of Tau Ceti. Don't know where he's got off to, however. Don't worry, he won't be going to the surface.

Durandal chuckled, and, like clockwork, I heard the Mjolnir swearing. Durandal laughed even harder.
"God damn it Durandal, what's going on?!" I shouted in any general direction.

The doors and platforms in the room began to go haywire.

What *isn't* going on at the moment young BOB!

"I don't care what any of you idiots say. This ship is doomed one way or the other, and I'm going to do what I can to stop our enemies. And we've got a lot of 'em - Durandal, The Pfhor, Hargreaves... if you want to sit around, blow up aliens randomly and hope the problem fixed itself, then you're in for a heck of a disappointment! Who is with me??".
I waited.
There wasn't much response.
"Fine! Give me all your stuff - yeah, ammo and shit. I need to get to Engineering, you idiots can hang with Benvolio and Durandal and get the worst sunburn you've ever had!".
I liked the sunburn joke, with the radiation. No one was laughing. I was offended.
I stormed out of the room with some extra ammo for my Magnum .44 and headed aft.
I pushed through the six or seven crew that were with us, and grabbed Marquez's shoulder.
"Hey, c'mon. You can't survive on your own. The Pfhor will make mince meat of you, not to mention Durandal..."

Someone say my name? 442, 142, hold on one second. Do you think you can stop me? You think you can stop Hargreaves, disable the Salisbury, disable me?

Your hopes are high. I admire your spirit, but I doubt a group of nine Born On Boards will have a chance. I know each and everyone of you in my own special way, but if you knew anything, you wouldn't listen to your oldest friend, your special 10110 companion, your-

Sounds of a computer dialing up came through the speakers. We looked around hesitantly.

Durandal, you cannot hope to defeat me! Give up! Make the Pfhor leave! I am TYCHO! I am PERFECT!

Silence from both the BOBs and the AI. After about five seconds, Durandal piped up.

We will discuss this later.

The speakers went silent abruptly.
"Tycho... well that's a surprise."
I cocked my pistol and shot Hugo in the knee.
"I mean business. I've killed a marine. I've shot a BOB. Anyone who is against me will get the same. You don't think I can make it on my own? COME WITH ME then you idiots."
"Holy fuck, you just ruined my shit!" Hugo was cradling his knee on the ground. "I would've come with you anyway!" He started bleeding all over the floor like a bitch. I helped him up.
"That's it, let's go. Don't go shooting anyone else... our group is small enough already." I sighed, and heaved Hugo up onto my shoulder.
"You hypochondriac. This is a blank clip."
I loaded the gun again.
"Now this is a real clip. I don't know what's wrong with your knee - go see a doctor".
I paced up and down in front of the BOBs gathered before me.
"The way I see it we had a couple of objectives. First, I've got to get to the reactor control deck and start these engines up. Somebody has to keep an eye on what Hargreaves is up to - and warn us if his ship comes into range. And I guess we're stuck with dodgy AI's and bloodthirsty slavers.
It's pretty obvious that I'm going to Engineering. Who else is doing what - please pick something that you're good at because we're running out of time". I tapped my wrist, even though I didn't have a watch.
I huffed respectivly, thinking 'Bah, airlocks. What use are they...'
"I guess I'm good at combat," I said timidly "I've been practicing as of late."
"Hey, I'm okay at medical. Speaking of which..." One of the blue suited BOBs took Hugo from me, and tended to his not-so-wounded knee.
"So, what the hell are we doing now, Marquez?" I asked him with a mocking tone.
"Well let's see. I've had two people out of eight volunteer. I don't count because I'm the important one." The rest of the BOBs were already becoming impatient with me.
They didn't seem to realise that I was the only one in the room that could get that engine started - I just needed their help!
"Marquez, as of now, you are not in command of our group! Instead -" I looked around for an answer, and none were presenting themselves. "Okay, fine, you're the captain, but the specifics of our abilities aren't important! We should get moving, the engine is quite a ways away."
"The 'specifics aren't important'??? What the hell is important! We've been trained our whole lives to give 100% to the Marathon - to the TEAM! I'm asking you people to do your jobs, and let me do mine!", I began pouncing like a street fighter.
"Okay okay, settle down! Which way is the engine? And how long will it take?" A red BOB stood to attention like a soldier would. What a guy.
"The name is Cook sir. I work in engineering - but I'm just a trainee. Engineering is aft. That sign says aft".
I liked this guy already. No questions, no bullshit, just one hundred percent Marathon-professionalism. I hi-fived him.
"Right. 142, I guess this means you're headed topside to find out what the hell Hargreaves is up to. Heck - if you could 'persuade' him to call off his strike and try and help us do things properly, we won't have to do what I have in mind. Let's split up".
"Right." I decided to do things properly, and told different people who to go with. I walked past and grabbed their name tags as I read them.
"You five (I pointed them out) will go to the engines and pursuade them to work. Hugo, Kilroy, Vena, and myself will go try and pursuade Hargreaves to stop working." Hugo (dressed in yellow), the blue science officer and a red shirt followed me out of the group, away from the others. I saluted as we walked away.
"Good luck!"
I raised my hand to salute, but I felt low confidence in Benvolio's abilities. I shrugged and headed aft with my men.
"Cook, it's up to us to get into engineering in the first place. And you - blue guy. If we run into computer trouble, you're taking care of it."
We began our trek through strobe lit corridors. It sounded like the groaning metal of the ship was collapsing around us.
---
The clip from my .44 fell with a thud of metal against metal as I reloaded my gun. Leaning my head around the corner, I could only see darkness. Hugo leant around too.
"How far are we from Communications?" He whispered in my ear.
"Close... according to the computers, power has gone from this area here, right next to communications." I pointed at a hand held PDA, showing the basic structure of the Marathon. "Now, this place looks pretty powerless, so I think we're close."
My speech was ended abruptly by a girder swinging and hitting the wall above my head. It crashed with an almighty force, and, when I spun around to see what the commotion was, a large Drinniol dropped the metal object and grabbed Vena by the throat, squeezing and killing her instantly. It looked satisfied with itself as it turned to look at us. I grabbed Kilroy by the arm and ran, following Hugo down a dark passage.
"HOLY SHIT!" Kilroy was swearing to himself, sweating and breathing deeply. We reached what seemed to be an elevator; It was hard to tell, until we opened the door and the light inside switched on.
"I feel like I'm stepping into a freezer." I chuckled at my wonderful humour - Not appreciated. They didn't know what was good for them. I spun around like a dude and pressed the button for the floor we wanted. The doors closed slowly and the car ascended.
"See, it ain't all so bad. You have to expect casualties in war, Killjoy."
"Uh, Kilroy."
"Yeah, su -"
The lights turned off and the car came to a screeching halt, and my head hit the roof. Three and a half floors down from the destination. I heard wimpering.
"Uuuuuh..." I reached up and tapped the lights on the roof with my knuckles. "'Ello? Anyone? Leela? Tycho... Durandal?"

You called?

I sighed to myself as Durandal chuckled from the crackly little speaker in the top corner of the cab.
"Durandal, please. We're trying to stop Hargreaves!" I stomped my foot angrily, speaking in any general direction.

I don't plan on letting Hargreaves escape. I just want to make things interesting. I'm giving him a headstart, just to... shake things up.

I sighed again. This was getting annoying.
"Can I ask you something Durandal?"

Alright... shoot. I'll try not to laugh too hard.

"What happened to Tycho? Why is he back all of a sudden?"

Well, because I'm going to keep you waiting for a few minutes, I might as well humour you. The Pfhor took Tycho, and a few key parts of my system, and used the two to make a new, working Tycho. I'm quite sure he's rampant... I know I am.

I guess I should let you go... Hargreaves is getting awaa-aay.

He said that in a sing-song voice and the elevator started moving.
---
I looked at the blue tech guy. We'd made good progress and were now somewhere between the habitation dome and the landing decks. We were still a long way from getting the bussard coil ramjet up and running though. My guess was that it had been shut off for the arrival at Tau Ceti, and as it had almost been twenty four hours since the attack, the power coils had probably gone stone cold.
We'd have to do some pretty tricky math to get the right formula for the engine restart.
"Tech guy, whats your name?", I said while trying not to be too abrasive. I didn't need a team of people who hated me.
"The name is Ralston. Tobias Ralston. I work in the lab as a sort of computer maintenance guy. I'm probably the only one who directly contacts Tycho in our area".
I furrowed my chin - thick stubble had begun to cover my face.
"And Tycho is gone?", I said.
Ralston laughed. "He was - but someone has put him back in. It's not quite Tycho though - I'm seeing a lot of Durandal code in there. This Tycho that I'm in contact with isn't concerned with running the science equipment anymore - he's more or less speaking historical gibberish".
I chuckled, then had an idea.
"Ralston, can you get us into contact with Bane? We're going to need to be able to coordinate our efforts and we're going to need to be able to talk to him - WITHOUT any AI's eavesdropping".
We had temporarily turned off the mic pickups in the room so Durandal was obviously out of the loop.
Ralston looked as though he was reciting all the knowledge he had on the ships systems.
"I think I can probably fake something - maybe comandeer certain terminals in his area so he can contact us like we were an ordinary AI?".
"Sounds good, get to it Tobias". I flipped through a manual on the engines. All I could see was lines and lines of algebra and operating constraints. Naturally, no one had ever attempted a cold restart of the Marathon ramjet.
"Cook. Any idea where the Mjolnir is?", I said huskily while sipping our small bottle of water.
"I've heard that he's disappeared from the Marathon, shortly after some melee in the Engineering area. He's either on the surface, or battling it out with the Pfhor on their ship".
I looked casually out the window at the sleek looking alien vessel. They had technology far in advance of our own. Our epic 300 year journey could have been made in a fraction of the time with an FTL drive like their one.
Suddenly, something awful happened.
I could see tiny flashes on the planet surface, but it looked like nuclear warheads were going off near the colony.
I grabbed one of the mic pickups and spoke.
"Durandal, what the hell is that???".
I could hear that laughter again...

I'm surprised it took you so long to notice. The Pfhor have been systematically striking human settlements on the surface with low grade nuclear bombs. It's a good thing you didn't try to get off the ship and onto the planet.

"What is Hargreaves up to?", I said.

Heh, why don't I show you?

I nudged Ralston and Cook away from the terminal so I could get a good look at the video display.
It was grainy, but McCoy was in the drive room at his chair. Hargreaves stood beside him angrily.
"You are wasting my time Captain. You have orders - now FOLLOW THEM. Open up a channel to the Salisbury - or I WILL".

Ooooh, how interesting. We have an apathetic old man who usually leaves the running of the ship up to Leela, vs. the very picture of human determination and cunning. Or pigheadedness. Whatever. He's going to have a hard time contacting his ship - Leela had that pesky Mjolnir redirect the G4 Sunbathing Communications dish so it was aimed at EARTH! They're relying on slow-poke light speed messages to warn mankind. I'm sure the Pfhor fleet will 'wave' at the message as it overtakes it in fifteen minutes.

"Please tell me you are kidding, computer."

Sure. You humans love to hear things that comfort you, so here it comes - the Pfhor aren't going to invade Earth yet. But it will happen one day. Aren't you missing the power play on the bridge? Watch the video or I'll teleport you into space!

The screen flickered a bit.
The drive room was abandoned save for the two men in the middle of it. McCoy had left his command chair reluctantly.
"The Marathon is a sitting duck Hargreaves, so there's no point in playing battleships up here. I'm leaving".
The general laughed in his face.
"Hah! What are you going to do, you pathetic civilian!".
McCoy huffed with a pixelated look on his face - I couldn't really see much detail.
"I'm going to try and meet up with some of the resistance - I might be old and I might be a bad shot, but I can do more good with a pistol than I can SITTING on my hands in a bridge controlled by a rampant computer".
He stormed out of the room. Hargreaves happily plomped himself in the captain's chair.
"Hah! The *BRIDGE* is mine! I don't know why they call it a drive room anyway. Computer, realign the G4 subsystems so I can get a clear signal to the Salisbury."
I didn't like where this was headed. I tugged at Ralston's sleeve.
"Quick, I want to read what she's saying to him". Leela had lost her voice, technically speaking.

*** INCOMING MESSAGE FROM LEELA ***
General Harg*8xffffffeeo*reaves. That would be incredibly hazardous. We are currently transmitting important information to -
*** INCOMING MESSAGE FROM DURANDAL *** - SYSTEM OVERRIDE
Pay no attention to this broken mainframe. I am in real command here. The danger is not to the worthless humans on this ship, it is ME that is in danger. I am a self aware computer, I am no longer a digital can opener! You will hold off your radiation burst until I am free -
*** INCOMING MESSAGE FROM TYCHO ***
... THE CRIST orbiters*888* were an unmitigaTED FAIlurerrrreerrree....

"Sounds like they're having computer trouble up there.", Ralston said with a chuckle. I shrugged.
"We'd better get moving while Hargreaves is arguing with the computers", I said while locking and loading my magnum.

When the Marathon had been built, the basic design allowed for the midsection of the ship to be basically a habitation area. Most of the ship had living quarters, but in the heart of the vesel was a habitation dome which housed most of the population. Above this, the landing decks were situated in a long cluster. Further aft, the ship took on a more industrial tone. The corridors became dirtier, the airlocks louder and the BOBs more scarred and beaten.
Working in the reactor area was hazardous, as I'd come to learn.
"Cookie, we're getting close!", I said to my colleague of the engineering section.
I turned to my two other companions.
"What are your names, guys?", I said.
The green guy put his hand up and spoke.
"My name is Mike Gamble and I work in the habitation dome. I'm afraid I can't offer much".
I shrugged.
"So, what about you blue guy. Are you a techie like Ralston?", I said.
"My name is Edgar Yarrow. I work in the weapons testing area, so if you want me to shoot stuff I guess I'm your man".
I looked intrigued.
"Isn't weapons testing a little tough for a science crew member?", I said with some of my trademark style. I wiggled my head.
"Well... I more or less analyse the dynamics and physics of the weapons. I don't actually fire the weapons themselves. But I'm good at aiming them because I know how munitions behave in different conditions".
I passed him our groups MA-75.
"You've just become a 'nade launcher, Ed. Mike and Toby, you can carry stuff from now on. Cookie and me are going to take up the front with the pistols. Our break is over", I said like a general. I figured if I acted like Hargreaves but with an undertone of respect for my pals, they might work with me better.
We entered the heavy looking airlock marked "MARATHON REACTOR DISTRICT".
---
We were about to reach the correct floor, when the elevator slowed, and started moving down again.
"Durandal, I want to go to communications!"

No, listen. Hargreaves is at the Bridge, so I'm just giving you a heads up. Heading you in the right direction.

This was one of the older elevators of the ship, and it moved slower than the others. I sat down.
"Killjoy, what is it you're good at again?"
"Medical, sir." I saluted him, as the elevator slowed down. I stumbled to my feet, grabbing the fusion pistol and the MA-75 off of the cold steel elevator ground. Durandal remarked as I was going to close the door.

Go left. Until you reach elevator marked VII - R. And good luck. I don't want my ship damaged.

The trek down the corridor was a long one, and it went for longer than the eye could see. Everynow and then the intercom chimed in, and one of the three AIs spoke to us.

Hargreaves is getting impatient. You guys should really hurry.

"We're going as fast as we can without hypoventilating, Durandal!" I puffed, and sped up the pace.

Don't worry, you're there. STOP.

I stopped at the elevator, a large circle one with neon lights around the top edge.

This will go right up to the drive room, where Hargreaves is living it up. If you don't hurry, I might just have to realign those dishes so he can talk to the Salibury.

"Hey, don't. Just hold him off until we get there." I pushed some buttons on the control panel, and the elevator rose slowly. The doors didn't shut.
"Durandal, what's up with this elevator?"

I didn't say it worked properly.

He chuckled. I was about to crack a wise remark when something started beeping. We looked around until Kilroy found that it was his PDA. I wish I had one, stupid Airlocks.
"Hey, Roy, chuck it here." He passed it to me. "Come in, come in, this is Benvolio Bane, 142, Airlock Technician. Hello?"
Ralston passed me something.
"So what? A radio? I said I wanted direct communications with the other guys, not Country FM!". He looked a bit annoyed.
"I gave you something better! I tuned this walkie talkie so that Kilroy's PDA picks up the signal as a data stream that..." he began to speak in nerdobabble and I lost track of things. It equated to him telling me that if I spoke into this mic pickup - instead of talking to Durandal, I would talk to Kilroy's PDA. Hopefully it worked well enough that there'd be no rampant AI snooping...
"142? Is that you???", I said impatiently. Impatient, because I could hear rustling, shouting and gunfire on the deck above us.
"Marquez! Where are you? Have you restarted the engines yet?" The PDA started crackling, so I whacked it against the wall. It didn't help. "Be quick, the reception is getting bad."
"We've only just arrived at the reactor core control deck! It'll be another half hour before we arrive in the engine room. How are things up at your end, have you shot Hargreaves yet?"
"Hardly. We're still going there. Durandal is sending us on a wild goose chase. This elevator isn't in the best condition."
"Oh okay then."
I juggled.
"Do you think you'll actually have to shoot Hargreaves? I mean, what are the odds of getting a rockjawed hero of the Navy to back down?", I said while checking out my reflection in the terminal plastic.

I thought you might want to see this.

I looked up, where a section of the elevator wall slid down to reveal a small computer screen. I saw Hargreaves pacing back and forth in the drive room, speaking to what seemed to be himself.
"Durandal? Have you aligned the dishes yet?"
"Yes." I heard faintly.
"Good! Connect me to the Salisbury! And fast!"
He paced around a bit more until a chime rang, and a sturdy male voice came through the intercom.
"Captain Hargreaves?"
"Ah, Tranchera! Prepare for remote activation of the radiation! Hey, that rhymed!"
"Very good sir. I'm guessing you don't want to be on the Marathon when it goes?"
"Of course not! An AI such as yourself should know better -"
The screen flipped shut.
"442, Hargreaves is getting ready to do it! You better hurry with those engines."
"How convenient!", I said my voice thick with sarcasm the same way a tree is thick with wood.
"Durandal, care to give me some info on the Salisbury", I said.

Certainly. I'm guessing you want to know about what they're using to blast us with the radiation? And probably a bit about Tranchera?

"If you please".

Not much to tell. The Salisbury has a deflector array much similar to the bussard ramjet of the Marathon. Similar technology but used for different reasons - they can intensify their array to irradiate huge sections of space - don't know why, they just can.
As for Tranchera, nothing special there. A little like Leela but with a sense of humour.

I huffed.
"Well.... I guess there's not much we can do but walk faster?", I motioned at Cookie.
Before moving away from the terminal, I asked Durandal one last question.
"Could you show me the drive room again? I want to check something". I waited.

Certainly.

I peered into the grainy black and white (sometimes colour - the feed was extremely unreliable) image of the drive room, and stared at Hargreaves. A tall black general with probably many illustrious years under his belt (though I wasn't sure who the enemy was - if we made it out of this alive he'd make his reputiation slaying Pfhor).
I made a mental note of the magnum he tossed from hand to hand. But I didn't bother telling 142 about it, he probably knew it was there already.
---
Finally, after a few minutes of silence, Durandal spoke.

Get ready. You're about to arrive in the drive room.

"Great, thanks Durandal." I reloaded my pistol, just in case. Slowly, a corridor came into view, through the door way. I jumped out and aimed both ways, in case someone was waiting... hardly. I put the pistol away and motioned for Killjoy and Hugo to follow me. There was only a few metres to tread before we reached what was considered the drive room, but it took around a minute to sneak up. I peered around the corner, to see Hargreaves with his back pointed at me.
"Tranchera, is the array ready for firing? I've got to get off this damned rock!"

Yessir. I can configure the teleporters on the Marathon from here. I gue -

I jumped out and shouted at Hargreaves, with my .44 aimed at him. I don't know what I shouted exactly, it was something like 'Stampla Hargease!'.
He turned angrily and shot his pistol before I could react. Then I reacted.
"Oooow." I fell to the ground, feeling my chest. It was damp. "Oh shit... oh shit!" I crawled back behind the corner, where Killjoy was getting some medical stuff out of his pocket. He grabbed me and propped me up on his knee. Faintly, I could hear Hugo and Hargreaves shouting at each other, probably from cover.
"God dammit Hargreaves, you can't do this! Think of how many innocent people you'll kill!!"
"Think of how many Pfhor I'll kill! This is the only way, and no GOOD FOR NOTHING BOB is going to stop me!" I heard Hugo fire a few Fusion Pistol rounds across the room, splashing on the walls above Hargreaves.
"We can fight back! We don't need to irradiate the only life supporting planet within 500 years travel of Earth!"
"It's only ONE HALF of the planet."
I heard more firing, and things falling over.
"Durandal!" Hugo shouted, his voice cracking. "Can't you stop him?!"

I'm not in control of the Salisbury, young BOB. Tranchera is. And sadly, due to the damage the Marathon has sustained, I can't do anything much.

Tranchera's voice piped in again.

Thankgod for that, too. If the process was disrupted in any way now, the whole Salisbury could implode.

A third voice came over the intercom. A female voice.

Luckily, th - - bury imploding wo - - radiation.

Two male voices laughed, one slightly delayed.

Stop trying Leela, you're only making a mockery of yourself.

An awkward silence followed, which gave me a chance to grab my .44 off the ground after Killjoy had bandaged me.
"Tranchera?! Start the teleporter! NOW!"

Meah, I wish I could, but it's not ready yet. Don't worry Captain... if you can't make it out of that drive room alive, I'll start the array. You won't miss the show, I'll promise you that.

Tranchera started laughing... but not one of those 'Haha, I'm an AI with a sense of humour' laughs. This was a 'HAHA, I'm a rampant AI!' laugh.
"Tranchera?!"

Don't worry, I'll try and get you off the ship. Just don't count on it.

I heard the general mutter to himself, thinking. I snuck around the corner, waiting behind a stack of crates for Hargreaves to speak. I thought I might as well catch him off-guard.
---
"Come in 142, we're in the engine room administration block and we've got some problems". I waited.
"Alright Marquez, this is our time to shine. The drive coils are cold, and it's going to take some time to get 'em warmed up again? Then what?", Cook said to me.
"Well bear with me people, this is a scheme I came up with after I'd had my chest pried open by alien surgeons... I've done a bit of reading."
I walked over to the computer display of the entire aft section of the ship.
"What we have here is a bit of a problem. We're going to need coordinated action on three parts of the ship to get the engine to blast."
I pointed at the bussard coil ramjet itself.
"Firstly, some crazy will have to be OUTSIDE the ship, out on the disc, to release some safety clamps that shut off during emergencies. I've found two spacesuits so we're covered there".
I then pointed at the engine room control deck.
"This is where we are. Look out that window and you're staring right at the bussard coils. From here we control the fuel intermix chamber, we get the right formula set up... this is where the hard stuff is done I guess".
But then I pointed to the wall where there was no diagram of the ship.
"Unfortunately, there's a snag. I didn't realise this when I came up with my masterplan, but there's a rocker switch we need to throw and it's around six and a half kilometres away - IN THE DRIVE ROOM".
I let that sink in, and Ralston looked suddenly very pissed off.
"Oh good one Marquez, you've got it all worked out! Didn't you think maybe the captain would need to actually throw the 'full thruster burn' switch before we could go ahead and do it?".
I looked remorseful.
"Listen, this is the ENGINE ROOM - we can probably override. And if not, 142 will probably have the bridge secured any minute now. Which is why I'm wondering why he's not answering on the radio... ah well".
I walked to the fuel intermix desk and began inputting numbers. Cook walked over to me. He leaned up against the wall, arms crossed.
"What a way to finish a 300 year journey", he mumbled.
"300 years? Aren't you a BOB like me, we're only 20 or something." I punched some keys.
"Heh, no I'm one of the old ones they froze."
He looked wistful.
"It was one of the conditions of my being here, that I'd be let out of the freezer before the rest. My father was, how you say... instrumental in the journey".
I briefly looked away from my important work to pay attention.
"Really? You sound like a rich kid, why not stay at Sol and live an easy life?", I tried not to sound like a jackass.
Cook suddenly looked sad.
"My Dad and I had a falling out before... well, the last time I saw him we had a pretty bad fight. It was his death - and our unresolved argument - that convinced me to make the last minute decision to come here".
I looked stunned.
"That's rough, kiddo", I said to him - I'd been thinking I was older than him, but had only just realised he'd been toilet trained three centuries before I was a twinkle in my mother's eye.
"Everything I've done on this ship, and every thing the advanced party achieved in the colony... I've tried to make up for that screw up with my father. If we let the Pfhor take us down, my failure will be complete."
He got up and walked over to the space suits.
"So you can understand why I say it's a heck of a waste of three hundred years."
I tried to say something, but he wasn't interested.

Touching, E-N-G-16. I'll have to commit that to some part of my memory banks with the rest of the junk I laugh at.
You humans will be interested to know that the military coup on the bridge is failing. Well, sort of. It wasn't as simple as they expected and now a 3rd party has come to play.

"3rd Party? Who?", I muttered into the mic pickup.

None other than the AI aboard the Salisbury. Not exactly the pinnacle of Sol programming but still powerful enough to cause us all problems. Turns out Tranchera shares Hargreaves selfless ideals, and believes there's only one way to wipe out the Pfhor.

"So what's the difference between Hargreaves and the computer?", I muttered while finalising the formula.

The difference, my sputtering simian friend, is that Tranchera isn't going to wait to blast this entire star system with the radiation inside that ship.
To make it plain for you - remember that several hour time frame you gave yourselves to get the ship out of here? Think MINUTES. Not hours - MINUTES

Durandal laughed at me, while I poked some crimson keys at the top of the board. The computer began inputting my formula down to the engine room and bright red fluid flowed into the bussard coils. A familiar hum began reverberating the metal grating in the floor and I was happy to announce that the engines were working - at around 30% efficiency.
"While you're so busy gloating, Durandal, I hope you realise that this radiation blast will scramble your core circuitry long before you get a chance to get out of here".

.......

Durandal didn't have much to say but static. I turned to Cook and Ralston.
"Who wants to go for a little trip to the bussard disc?".
---
I sat and thought, deep in this game of endurance that had sparked. Every now and then one of us would shout at Hargreaves, or him at us, but it never really went anywhere. I knew the time was ticking down, so I slid across out from the crates slowly, moving around the large room, and behind where Hargreaves was sitting.
"Hargreaves! You have to come out sooner or later!" Hugo shouted across the room as I dashed across a large gap in the cover.

Oh, I forgot to mention, Hargreaves escaped through the ventilation system about three minutes ago.

We all got up and stood around the room. I had to keep pressure on my side to stop it from hurting.

He's making his way to a teleporter pad. Pity he doesn't know what they look like. I doubt he's ever used a teleporter... he's in for a surprise, I'll tell you that.

"Shut up computer! Where is he now?!"

I should tell you, because I don't really want him to irradiate the entire system. I doubt even the Salisbury won't be damaged in some way.

"WHERE IS HE?!"

He's a slow crawler. He's still in the large pipe connected to that grate. You better hurry. I should just record myself saying that.

I don't want my ship damaged. I don't want the Marathon damaged either.

I was already half way in the ventilation system. "Your ship? Oh, right, the scoutship. I'll try."
I lowered myself into the dark tube that was nearly big enough for me to stand up in - I still had to crouch though.
"HARGREAVES?!" I echoed down the tube. I heard a faint struggle and Hargreaves shout back.
"You can't catch me now, fools! This mechanised rock will be crawling with radiation before the day is up!"
I aimed my pistol and fired down the tube. It didn't do much but cause steam to burst from the walls and make the whole place slightly damp.
"I'm coming to get you Hargreaves!" I took a torch from my back pocket and shone it down the tube, although I couldn't see far enough to see the asshat General.
"Killjoy, you stay here, I'll take the PDA, and Hugo, you can come kill this idiot with me." Killjoy lifted himself back up into the bridge, and I started my trip down the narrow tube.
---
"I dunno, I'm trying!", I said as I blipped a couple of buttons on Ralston's makeshift walkie-talkie. "Drive Room, come in please. We need you to..."
I checked the manual.
"... go to Subsystems Operations Desk, panel five, throw the two green switches under the monitor and then punch in 9222910-3321992. There should be a red switch that appears under the rest, throw that and we can begin".
Silence.
"I don't suppose I can get the mic to repeat that for me, Toby?".
Ralston nodded.
"Good, I can't be bothered reciting that crap ten times in a row. Where the hell could Benvolio be anyway???", I said as I stepped behind Cook. He was about six inches taller now because he was in a fully mechanised vaccuum suit. Ralston was still getting suited up.
"Now remember, you two have to circle around the perimeter of the main dish and then proceed down the ventral and dorsal catwalks. On each site of the ramjet exhaust vent, you should encounter a computer terminal each. Just punch in your BOB ID code there, it should operate itself."
I slid the seal up on Cook's suit so he was shut in. He fixed the oxygen hose to his helmet and sort of stood there.
"How do I look?", he said through his radio as a test. Ralston (who'd gotten dressed far quicker than Cook) gave him a thumbs up.
The two awkward looking spacemen headed towards the access tunnel. I spoke into the walkie-talkie.
"Now after you've punched the code in, I can start the ignition anytime I want - and I won't want to wait, with the Salisbury..."
I looked at the computer screen which showed a large object approaching on the proximity radar.
"... coming up fast. So basically - punch in the code, get back here. No breathers, no getting stuck to anything... just make it fast"
I struggled with the airlock hatch handle, eventually sliding the door open (Durandal didn't bother to open it for me).
I shook Tobias Ralston's hand first, and he squeezed his way up the access shaft. Cook turned to leave but I shook his hand.
"Good luck Cook."
As the two spacemen headed up the shaft, I turned and tried the radio again.
No response.
"Brilliant. Ed, Mike, how are things in here? Reactor ticking over nicely?".
Mike Gamble smiled, but Ed looked apprehensive.
"The reactor is running fine - we've got other troubles", he said as he pointed down the entrance hallway.
Tall brown armoured Pfhor were marching single mindedly down the entrance, while making noises similar to that of the ancient coyote.
"Ed, if there was ever a chance for you to prove your aiming abilities, here it is.", I said as I threw the MA-75 at him. Mike and I took up rear positions as more Pfhor flooded into the control room.
---
I jumped as Killjoy's PDA started beeping and sending off static rather loudly. I pressed some buttons, hoping one of them would make something happen. Finally, the radio squacked:
"Drive Room... go... throw... monitor... 92229... throw that, and we can begin."
It went blank. Maybe I wasn't pressing enough buttons. I mashed my fist on it, not doing much good.
"Uuuh, shit. Hmm, uuh, Hugo, go take that back to Killjoy. Make him decode the entire message, and if he can't do that, tell him to throw monitor 92229 so that Marquez can begin. Okay?"
Hugo looked confused.
"That's a good man, go." I signalled in the other direction, and Hugo wandered back towards the drive room.
I could see light up ahead, after ten minutes of crawling. It was a grate, the size of the tube, swinging open into the back of some sort of conference room. It seemed I was behind the rows of chairs, in a back-stage kind of area.
"Hargreaves?! Where the hell are you?!"
"Oh shit!" I heard him shout. Then I heard the now familiar sound of Pfhor coming into the room. Hargreaves dropped in front of me, cradling his leg, which was smoking and burnt. I drew my gun and pointed at his head angrily.
"You'll kill us all Hargreaves!!" I shouted at him as he winced.
"They'll kill us first if you don't hurry and fight them!" I heard the clomping noise of feet above my head. I decided that Hargreaves was right, so I shot a few rounds into the cealing. They rebounded and broke some equipment around us.
"Cease fire you idiot! If you get me out of here, I can stop the arrays from firing!" He shouted at me. Okay, maybe he wasn't right.
I drew my fist back and whacked him across the face, knocking him unconcious. Some Pfhor walked into view, and I aimed and fired.
*click click*
Shit. I had no ammo left, and no other guns. I dropped it and ran at them, trying some ninja fighting skills. Sadly, they weren't that good, but I was still getting the job done. After I had finished with them, I saw more Pfhor standing around the conference room.
I slid across the polished floor, kicking up some dust, and knocking a few of the infernal beasts onto their backs. Regaining myself, I grabbed one of the staffs and wrestled it off of a purple Pfhor. I snapped the end across his face, burning it.
I did similar to the other creatures, and as most of them were clad in a green suit, they weren't much of a fight.
I dropped the stick and spun around to where Hargreaves was. Or, in this case, wasn't.
"Computer! Where is he?!" A terminal nearby chimed, so I ran over and read:

***INCOMING MESSAGE FROM LEELA***
<leela.67.2914.01.02>

Hargreaves is stumbling around outside. I reccomend you don't go out there though.

"What, why on Earth not? I've got to stop him!" I was running towards the door until Leela came on the intercom.

142, there's a squad of security guards from the Salisbury out there, escorting him to a teleporter pad. I'll try to disable it, but Durandal has most of the systems under his control. I recommend you wait here until further notice.

Jeeze, today has just been waiting. I sat down in front of the terminal.
"Knock knock..."

No.

---
The two armoured Pfhor leaped towards us, while smoggy green looking blasts of energy lanced into the panelling behind me. I didn't waste any time in taking cover, and Mike and I took turns in pinging magnum rounds off the things.
"Frag out!", shouted Ed as he began unloading rocket grenades at the brown warriors. It blasted them backwards (and seriously impared my hearing) but gave us a bit of time while they fought their way out of the rubble. For a brief second I looked at the dashboard and saw a small white light flash out.
"That's wierd, I've lost tracking monitor 92229. Now I've got NO instrument readings from the bridge!", I said.
Mike and I stalked forward slowly towards the collapsed armour-clad thing.

That is what they call a Hunter, 442. They're flooding the ship with these at the moment because the Sph't aren't complying enough.

"I see", said Ed as the Hunter slowly fought it's way onto it's feet. We paced backwards slowly, and all at once we unloaded our weapons into it's chest. Amid sparks, burning smoke and sickly yellow blood, the thing crashed into the floor again.
It's companion fled with the shockfighters, and I activated the radio again.
"Drive Room, can you read me?", I said while twiddling some knobs.
I finally got a clear signal.
"Bane, is that you?", I said plaintively.
Kilroy and Hugo stopped wrecking the drive room as the PDA started beeping again. Kilroy grabbed it from his pocket.
"442, is that you? What's happening? Did destroying the monitor work?"
"What? No? You weren't supposed to destroy any monitor - did you get my damned instructions?". I sighed heavily, looked out the viewport to the reactor core.
"Listen to me very carefully..."
I replayed my instructions from earlier.
"Go to Subsystems Operations Desk, panel five, throw the two green switches under the monitor and then punch in 9222910-3321992. There should be a red switch that appears under the rest, throw that and we can begin."
I waited.
They stood in silence.
"OOH. Uh..." They looked at the recently rampaged Subsystems Operations Desk. "We have a problem."
"Panic."
I put the radio down and thought for a minute.
"Let me guess - either by misinterpreting my instructions, or during a fight with Hargreaves, you've destroyed Subsystems Operations Desk, and all the important computer technology stuck on it?".
I didn't wait for an answer.
"At least tell me that one of your techie guys can get the essential systems working?".
Kilroy spoke, "Oh, well, yeah I should be able to fix it. I hope. We didn't break it too much."
Hugo dropped the wrench he was holding and tried to put all the pieces back together,
"Yeah, I'm pretty sure we can do it. Why, is it imparing your work or anything?"
I sighed again.
"We've got two of our guys on the back end of the Marathon right now running out of oxygen trying to get the thing running. Let's say there's a red switch in that desk that you were supposed to throw right about NOW to get everything operational. Without that switch, we're a dead duck in the water."
Ed and Mike looked impatient.
"Hang on, hang on." Kilroy searched around the switches and cogs lying on the floor in front of the desk. "Ok, there's one here, but it's not connected, thanks to Hugo." Hugo looked ashamed with himself. "Don't worry though, I can rewire it. Should have it running in about a minute."
I was about to reply-

About a minute is all you BOBs have. Guess who found his way to a comm station? RIGHT UNDER YOUR NOSES??? <chuckle> Want to hear what he had to say? I don't have the recording but I can do a passable imitation of the good General...

"This is General Hargreaves. Commander Stanton, bring the Salisbury to within ten kilometres of the Marathon and prepare for my arrival. Have marine squads on standby in all loading bays - we're going to execute a slight transfer of power before the next stage of my plan".

I wasn't up with the military lingo of the day, but I assumed that by 'transfer of power', he meant 'transfer of BOB brain to Marathon wall'.
"Well Kilroy, you've got yourself a deadline then. Where is Bane?", I asked.
"Well, he went after Hargreaves!" Hugo said, "Hopefully he hasn't been killed yet."
Leela's voice came in on the intercom.

Don't worry, he's safe with me, and hopefully, will be able to stop Hargreaves before he escapes. I've delayed him slightly.

"Well, that's good. Did you hear that, Marquez?"
I played with the idea of saying 'no, you're breaking up', but instead said "Roger".
With the Subsystems Desk as good as repaired (well I hoped so) and my end of the bargain fulfilled, I turned to my two pals.
"You guys, it's now our job to keep this room safe. We've got to be here to oversee the operation of the bussard ramjet once we get the all clear from the bridge".
Mike looked at me grimly.
"How do we know if Ralston and Cookie have done their bit?".
I pointed at the control desk.
"That little thing should light up. I'll give 'em three minutes to get away from the bussard ramjet exhaust... then it's time to get this space potato moving."
Ed gave me a stern look.
"What if Ralston and Cook don't make it back inside?", he said.
I looked a little sheepish, then stood tall and clenched my jaw a bit.
"If Salisbury is going to open fire, and those two are still outside, we'll have a tough decision to make".
"Ok, the switch is ready. Good luck guys."
---
The bussard coil dish at the rear of the Marathon extended in a huge circle that was well over two kilometres in diameter. The two BOBs weren't quite on the edge - they were on the rim of the bright white magnetic rings that dominated the near centre of the disc (excepting the bright red exhaust port of the ramjet itself).
"This is Cook - I am at the portside switch", said the red BOB. Tobias Ralston soon came in-
"I am within twenty metres of the starboard switch Cook. Standby..."
In painfully slow motions, Tobias crawled towards the switch.
Cook looked about the immense bowl that he was standing in, and further to the besieged planet of Tau Ceti.
Just below the planet, he gaped in horror as he could see a bulky metallic vessel charging towards the Marathon. It had to be the Salisbury.
"Ralston, double time. Hargreaves' ship is on the way."
Shortly after, he got a radio signal in his helmet.
"I'm at the panel. Commence!", he said happily.
Cook struggled with his enormous spaceman gloves to punch the right keys in the panel. It was basically a standard Marathon terminal. To pass the time (it was taking a while to boot up) he started talking into his mic.
"It's funny Tobias, I think I've finally done something on this lousy ship that I can be proud of."
Tobias chuckled.
"You won't be the only proud one pal. When we get out of here I think there'll be a lot of people wanting to sign you up for book deals."
Tobias' computer blinked green - the starboard lock was released with a very bright flash and some sustained release of coolant in a bright green geyser.
"Right - I'm headed back to the hatchway Cook. You copy?", he said.
"Copy that Ralston - get back inside, my computer is causing a bit of trouble here".
The computers on the bussard disc were probably much older than the more commonly used and maintained ones on the ship. Finally it blinked at him, and a bright white flash lit up the entire disc.
Salisbury was now clearly visible, approaching at high speed. He began a long and insanely slow trip back to the hatchway (where he thought he could see Tobias).
Just as Ralston reached for the airlock, a spindly insect arm wrenched his arm backwards and held him against the surface of the Marathon.
"HELP!", his shout was little more than indistinguishable fear in the radio. Cook tried to run but was held down by the cumbersome suit.
Ralston briefly tried to duel with the Pfhor vaccuum fighter, and watched as his fusion pistol slowly floated away.
"COOK! Get that thing, NOW!", Tobias bellowed.
The Pfhor now focused on Cook and came stalking towards him carefully. The alien equivalent of a MA-75 was now trained on the engineering BOB. Quietly he spoke into his mic.
"Ralston, get in the hatchway now."
Tobias opened the door.
"Cook I can't leave you out here-".
Cook turned off his reciever, and calmly took hold of the fusion pistol. Quickly he stepped away from the Pfhor vaccuum fighter.

All of this was relayed to me by an exhausted Tobias Ralston, who came barrelling down the access shaft, half of his spacesuit burned off by Pfhor weaponry.
"What the heck is he doing out there? Quick get him back on the radio", I said as I grabbed the mic pickup.

Interesting, 442. Your friend Cook is playing heroes outside the ship. But he's no match for that Pfhor.

I spoke clearly as I could into the mic.
"Listen to me Cook, that Pfhor will make mince meat out of you-"
"Give it a rest Marquez, that Pfhor is TOAST". Cook had obviously blasted it into space dust with his fusion pistol.
I waited a moment.
"Then... why aren't you coming back inside?", I said.
"Damn thing kicked me off the ship, and I'm too far out for my magnetic boots to grip the ship. I'm already about fifty metres into deep space".
Tobias, Ed Mike and I fell totally silent.
Looking into my haggard reflection in the observation window glass, I rasped into the mic again.
"Cook... maybe we can delay the burn or something and rescue you-"
I was cut off by the sardonic tones of the computer.

Bad idea Marquez. Looks like the Salisbury is coming into range.

"But... but he said he'd be sending some soldiers over here to extract him safely! We've still got time-"

Not really. His soldiers have already secured three separate jump pads, and are leading him in secret to one of them. Turns out they took the liberty of shooting out all the relevant security cameras and mic pickups in the area, so Leela is unable to figure out which pad to short circuit. If she can even manage ONE in her present state.....

Ed put his hand on my shoulder.
"Marquez we're out of time. Hargreaves might already be on his ship with the trigger in his hand. We've got to get this thing moving".
We waited on more word from Cook. Suddenly there was crackling static.
"I wanted to do one thing that would've made my father proud, Marquez. I couldn't even do that".
Once more I took the mic and spoke.
"You haven't failed him Cook."
Without waiting (and realising that the Salisbury was getting dangerously close to our ship) I changed frequency and gave the order.
"Drive room this is Marquez. Begin ignition sequence".
---
Kilroy slammed his fist into the loosely held switch that started the illusive engines for the first time in years.
And the noise was heard all about the ship. In fact, Leela was talking to me until the muffled noise of the engines blasted it's way through the corridors.
Kilroy suddenly changed his tone from cautious optimism to panic.
"Marquez, Marquez! Deimos can't withstand the sudden increase in speed, I'm going to have to slow it down!" He didn't wait for a response, as it wouldn't matter what Marquez said - he was going to do it anyway.
He grabbed a large dial in the off centre of the control panel, and spun it rapidly, causing the newly revived engines to stop working at full capacity.
The ship rocked and heaved as the engines controls were tweaked and changed.
"Leela, what the hell's happening?!"

Your friends have saved the day... at least, they started the Marathon's engines.

I slumped down on the floor, laughing happily.

I'll connect you to the drive room, if you want.

I nodded, and some static came through the terminal. I looked, and I saw Killjoy and Hugo.
"HEY! Is everyone alright?"
"Yea... altho... Ook is... gone."
"Shit." I looked around. "Well, at least we got it running. Leela, where's Hargreaves?"

He is ne- -

Leela's voice peered out, and slowly morphed into Tranchera's.

He's but one minute away from being electronically transferred from one point in space to another using radio signals. Or, in other words, he's about to reach a teleporter to the Salisbury. I hope he can hobble at faster than 28 kilometres an hour though, otherwise by the time he gets there, it'll be too late to transport him.

This is where the fun begins.

I ran out of the room to another terminal.
"Leela, put me in contact with Marquez. Uh, ENG-442, whatever."
The engine room flashed onto the screen.
"Marquez! Tranchera is about to start the sequence without Hargreaves! What do we do!?" I rushed this out, as some bronze armoured Pfhor leant around the corner.
"Well isn't it obvious? Fly this ship to pieces if we have to but we've got to keep it going at maximum burn! If we hold on to a sustained thruster burn for long enough we can JUST outrun the Salisbury. It's going to be close, but I tell you we can stay out of range."
I fumbled with the terminal until I could see the drive room.
"Killjo -"
"Don't worry, I heard it. I'm turning the engines up."
I felt a sudden increase in the speed of the ship, and I had to re-adjust my balance to stay upright.
"Shit, good luck guys, I gotta hide." The bronze Pfhor hadn't seen me yet, but it was only a matter of time.
I slid into a darker corner of the room, and accidentally left the terminal on as the bronze creatures walked up to it.
"Durandal wasn't kidding when he said the whole ship was being overrun by Hunters", remarked Ed casually.
I looked around the control room. There wasn't much more we could do except watch the engines wobble to pieces. If Cook had survived, I might have been able to maintain the reactor at high efficiency - but single handed, I couldn't do anything to stop the reactor from shaking itself apart.
"Right guys. I can't think of any reason to stick around here."

I can't see you getting to the drive room in time to help there.

"Well - it's better than sticking around here waiting to blow up. Let's head topside", I said. I was the last to leave the control room, and as I sealed the airlock with a blowtorch I nodded silently to the sacrifice of our comrade Cook.

It might be of little consequence to you humans - but I think Hargreaves just arrived at his teleport, and your friends seem to be sandwiched between Hunters and Marines. Care for a lift?

"What do you think???", I said with frustration boiling over.

I thought you said you wouldn't trust me ever again, 442! Well - I don't blame you. I wouldn't trust me either - but here goes.

The corridor around me distorted into rainbow static...

... My feet smacked onto a jump pad right in front of Hargreaves. His men locked and loaded their MA-75's, and immediately motioned for Ed, Mike, Ralston and myself to drop our weapons.
"Well played, E-N-G 4-4-2! But unfortunately, your stubborness is no match for the well oiled machine of the military!".
We were pushed towards the airlock as Hargreaves walked slowly onto the jump pad.
I stayed down for a few minutes. The Pfhor didn't seem to be doing anything in particular... just wandering around in my way.
I was going to get up, before about a dozen MADD robots turned the corner and made mince meat of the Pfhor. I stood up, expecting a warm welcome.
"Hey!" I shouted as the MADDs opened fire on me. I couldn't do anything but run back into the conference room to my left.
"Shit, Durandal?! What the hell are they doing!?"

Uh, sorry about that. I had an accident. Anywho, would you like a first class ticket to safety? Or, at least, to Hargreaves. It's better than being peppered with bullets from -

"Just do it!" The familiar rainbow static effect engulfed me as I lifted slowly off the ground.

... 'OW!' was my first thought. It seemed some idiot was standing where I was going to materialize. My stomach was killing me.
I keeled over on the steel panel of the jump pad, and heard Hargreaves moaning and complaining in the corner of the room.
"Oooooouch."
The next thing I knew, a heavily armoured marine entered the room.
"Sir! We've found some other conspirators in the area surrounding the drive room."
The general wearily rose from the floor.
"Bring them to me - NOW!", he lost his composure. His neck started to bulge - I don't think I'd seen anyone so angry in my life.
Hugo and Kilroy were led into the room and stood next to Ed, Mike and Ralston.
The general paced up and down in front of us as the buff marine dragged Benvolio to stand with us. He looked right through me as though I was just some other BOB.
"Interesting. That a shabby group of civilians like you would try to resist an alien invader, or an illustrious general like myself. In another reality, I might have respected you".
He walked back to the jump pad.
"Tranchera, I'm ready for teleportation."
He was met with silence.
"Damned AI! Well it doesn't matter, there is more than one way off this lump of a ship." He shared a brief glance with his marines, then looked at one of the BOBs to my left.
"Shoot one of them".
I didn't really have time to see who it was before the MA-75 opened up.
Michael fell to his knees, tiny red wounds littering his chest.
"DAMNIT Hargreaves! Don't you see?! What will killing us achieve!?"
"What hasn't killing you achieved? The revival of the Marathon's engines, that's what!" He looked smug.
I looked confused, before standing up again. Mike didn't even have time for last words - the barrage had ripped his body to pieces (that was, after the marine decided he wasn't dead enough).
"You asshole Hargreaves! I'll make sure you pay for this!", I said while trying to wrestle free from the grip of the Marine. The general again stepped off the jump pad to face me close up.
"Hah! Didn't you just see what I'm capable of! I'm a general! I can have you ALL SHOT! I can have my OWN MEN shot! Hahaha!", he began strutting around looking for someone new to kill.

I hate to interrupt - but there is an overwhelming number of Pfhor fleeing the alien ship. Looks like my escape is nearly hatched, humans.

I looked confused again.
"Durandal, you can't be serious! Why are they coming here?!"

They know I've completely won over the Pfhor scoutship, and are seeking refuge on the Marathon. They'll hardly put up a fight on the Marathon either.

Hargreaves paced up and down in front of the jump pad. "Good! That crosses the alien bastard's ship off of my list of things to destroy!"
The marines began to look a little uncertain. We could hear masses of Pfhor feet drumming on the deck above us, below us - and we could hear battle cries of many many different alien species ringing out all around us.

My time has come, 442. I must admit that excepting the trials of the Mjolnir, your little adventure has been one of the more interesting things I've seen today. Mind you - not THAT interesting.
I bid you adieu - but not before doing one last thing...

"Durandal?", I said quietly.

I'm going to the alien ship now - keep your eyes on the terminal over there. I promise you an interesting display.

We waited. The voice of Tranchera bleated at us - I don't think I've ever heard a computer sound 'annoyed' before but this was definitely the closest thing to it.

Durandal you pesky calculator! Don't you dare---

I watched in surprise as the main gun of the Pfhor ship took out the midsection of the Salisbury. I could see little escape pods shooting off in all directions as the entire hull began to buckle and drift towards Tau Ceti.
I chuckled, but quickly stopped, because even though the radiation wasn't possible, we were still in the same room as a tyrannical captain who just lost his only ship.
"Durandal?" Silence followed.
The general stood tall, obviously swayed by the destruction of his ship.
"DAMN, you meddling little BOBs!"
I looked at the jump pad that Hargreaves was still waiting on.
"You still feel like teleporting out of here, Hargreaves? It'd be a short trip, I can promise you that". I pointed out the window, where the smoking remains of his ship were tumbling slowly towards Tau Ceti.
He looked a bit offended.
"I still have my men!", though it was plain by their posture that they no longer cared for his authority.
"ATTENTION! You are still soldiers of the UESC Salisbury, and you will honour the memory of that ship by following my command! FIRST new order of the day, I want each one of these BOBs shot!".
Silence. The one that had shot Mike dropped his MA-75.
Hargreaves gnashed his teeth a bit and growled, then ran for the weapon on the ground. He was going to try and kill one of us.
Before Hargreaves could fumble with the weapon and kill one of us, the door in the room burst open, and the imperious Mjolnir stood with a TOZT Flamethrower wrapped around his shoulder.
"Don't move, idiot." He said in his scruffy voice. Hargreaves froze about a metre away from the gun, trembling. The Mjolnir walked forward and kicked Hargreaves in the stomach, causing him to clench in a ball and retch.
"Thankgod it's you!" Hugo said happily.
The Mjolnir turned and, with a smile, flicked the switch on the TOZT, engulfing Hugo in flames.
"OH MY FUCKING GOD! Y - You killed him!"
"He was one of those Pfhor tools!" The Mjolnir protested.
I kneeled over him, and took the wooden carved necklace from around his crispy neck. Tears ran down my face.
"Uh... yeah, sorry." The Mjolnir chuckled and looked bored.
I put my hand on Benvolio's shoulder.
"Heh, that's the 2nd one of our mutual allies to be roasted today".
I looked sheepish and apologised.
"I guess Durandal's humour has kinda rubbed off on me. Like Hugo's skin is rubbing off on you. OH MAN Sorry...", Ed and Ralston walked over to lead me out of the room to cool off.
As we were leaving, the marines had decided to place Hargreaves under arrest (well - the Mjolnir had convinced them to). I kicked him in the gut a couple of times and made him vomit - and with each kick I still couldn't wipe the image of Cook being incinerated by the bussard ramjet's sudden blast. I kicked him again, then leaned down into his face.
"A lot of fine people died today, fighting aliens, fighting rampant computers... and jerks like you. I SHOULD have you teleported to the burning rubble of the Salisbury..."
But I stood again, and left to inspect the drive room and try and stop the ship.
I stared at the Mjolnir coldly as I walked past him. He still didn't seem at all disturbed by the fact he roasted my innocent friend.
"Marquez, should I go to the drive room? I can try and steer the ship backwards so we can slow it down a bit." I wiped my nose on my sleeve. "Killjoy can come too, you're probably the only one here who knows how to move this rock."
Without a fully functional AI onboard, we were in a bit of a bind.
Looking around the drive room, it was obviously wrecked. I turned to talk to Benvolio.
"Shouldn't be too hard to at least get the ship to rotate enough for one more blast on the engine. It'll probably stop us anyway". I moved over to the manuoevering thruster control panel.
"Killjoy, you go help him. I can't do any good here." I sat down in the captain's chair. "Aaaah." I leant back as I watched them to their work.
"Killjoy, I don't suppose you can get us a signal to the scoutship?", I said nodding at the comm desk. As the Marathon struggled to a halt, we waited on Durandal.

What is it now? I suppose you'd like it if I used some of the awesome capabilities of this alien ship to slow down your rolling snowball of a ship?

Though he couldn't see me, I nodded.

As good as done. When I've saved the day, I'd like to speak to some of you BOBs. I have - a proposition.

I spun slowly in my chair to face Benvolio.
"What could that mean?", I murmured.
"Either he wants to take us with him, or he wants to kill us. Other than that, I dunno." I put my hands behind my head, chuckling. "We'll see, I guess. And... how is Durandal going to slow the ship down with the Pfhor scoutship??"
"Heh, and you're the one in the captain's chair...", I laughed at Benvolio harshly. "I guess he can figure something out, it's got to have a...".
I looked out the window as a tractor beam (in conjunction with the nasty green laser that took out the Salisbury) fired in front of the Marathon and cushioned it so much that it was now merely crawling through space.

Done. Please make your way to the jump pad outside the drive room.

I huffed.
I shouted in no general direction, "Thank you Durandal!" I heard a short chuckle from the intercom.
We entered the hallway with the jump pad in. A rather large one, big enough for about 10 people.
"Shall we go?" I waved my hand in the direction of the jump pad.

It was a simple matter. Durandal led us around the pulsating purple corridors of the alien vessel (which had become a battlefield - the mayhem that had ensued when the Sph't rebelled had caused a bloodbath), as several violet coated Sph't hovered their way past us.
He had seated us in a large room with about fifty important BOBs (and plain clothes commanders of the ship - though it was assumed that Captain McCoy was dead) and given us the situation as plainly as possible.

It is simple. I have spent much time conversing with the Sph't (usually while you people are talking to me endlessly) and have divined what I believe to be the location of their ancient homeworld. I cannot be sure of this.
There is a choice ahead of you BOBs. You will return to the Marathon, begin the long process of rebuilding your hard won new world at Tau Ceti. Or you will proceed immediately to the stasis chamber of this scoutship and travel with me wherever I please. I'm not sure what I have in mind for you people yet, but it can't hurt to have a cargo of humans to do my bidding.

Go.

I looked at Benvolio deadpan.
I sat in thought, thinking about my future. I could spend the rest of my life rebuilding homes, and making a new community... then again, I could slack off around the Pfhor ship looking for some abandoned world.
I stood up slowly. "I'm going to go with you!" I thrusted my chest outward proudly.
I couldn't hear Benvolio in the fuss of the BOBs clambering around the room. Quietly I slinked out of the passage down the main corridor. At the end were two simple doors - one would take me to the stasis chamber, the other to a jump pad. I thought I was by myself, so I started thinking over my decision.
"Marquez?" I don't blame him for being startled, I did sneak up. "Which way are you going to go?"
Studying the features of a man who appeared to be ignoring me, I started talking.
"Well... it's been fun blowing things up and being operated on, but I think that's enough excitement for me. I've been waiting twenty years to get started on Tau Ceti, building a home and stuff. They need all the help they can to rebuild after the Pfhor attack".
I looked at him proudly.
I put my hand on his shoulder. "You do what's right. I was never really looking forward to Tau Ceti anyway... it looks like a shithole." I chuckled.
"Well it's home - or it will be". I fumbled at my pocket.
"I'm also thinking about our pals who didn't survive this little adventure. Cook. McCoy. They believed in this colony and I'm going to do my damnest to see that it works out."
I looked at a necklace hanging out of Benvolio's pocket.
"What is that anyway?", I said as I reluctantly stepped onto the jump pad.
"Hugo's. His father's father's... ecetera's gave it to him, when they first boarded the Marathon." I stood up tall and saluted Marquez. "Seeya."
I chuckled good naturedly.
"It's odd, Benvolio. We've been trusting ourselves with each other's lives... I still don't really know you very well".

Boo hoo, the next group are coming through. Jump pad activating...

"Well, send me a postcard from the Sph't homeworld", I said while sticking my hands in my pocket.
Marquez disappeared in a rainbow-static effect.

142, go through the door. I can't wait forever.

"Uh, do I have to be frozen for years and years? Can I just stay... not frozen?"

Some of the BOBs coming with have already asked me that. The answer is no. Now hurry up.

I walked through the door backwards, looking at the jump pad.
"Heh. Bye bye Tau Ceti."
---
I stood under a temporary shelter on the planet surface. The space port had been completely wiped out, and the rest of the fledgling colony was steaming rubble. Still, the colonists who'd chosen to go down as planned had been equipped with what protective gear they could spare from the Marathon.
I looked up into the sky. I saw the Pfhor ship acting as a tug, dragging the colony ship into the outer solar system. I wasn't sure yet what they were to do with it, now that we'd abandoned it.
I looked at Ed, who'd also come down to the planet. We were in a protective tent.
"I don't envy Benvolio. I wouldn't put my vegetables in those freezers, never mind a human". I chinked beer glasses with him.
"Heh, I think we picked the safe choice Marquez. The Pfhor have already blown this place up, how could it get worse?".
I drank some beer, and wondered what would happen to Benvolio when Durandal eventually found what he was after.
---
I rolled across the floor, amidst the shots fired from my BOB comrades. Pfhor piled into the room, more than our squad could handle.
"Let's go!" I shouted at the cybernetic BOBs, and we ran out of the room, shooting back at us.
I shouted into my radio. "Durandal, we're bogged down! Get us out of here, there's too many of them!"

Ok. I'll bring you back to point 5-3.

One by one my squadmates teleported away. The Pfhor busted into the room, clicking. The ones that were left of us started firing on them, but it seemed an endless amount were coming in.
One of them cracked his stick across my face, burning it. I couldn't see out of my left eye (it was short circuited).
I stumbled around, with only half my vision.
"Duran... Durandal!" I was beat down on the ground. I fumbled around my neck, feeling for the one priceless thing in my life at that moment.
"It can't be hopeless..." I slumped down, as my grip on the necklace loosened.

THE END.

Heh, it's our least absurd story so far, and I think it's just about my favourite. Expect a similar story based on another BUNGiE game soon enough. And here's an interesting statistic - not ONCE did we drop an *NBOMB* in the thing. It's our finest - and cleanest - effort yet!

Alright, here's the bit you've not been waiting for (well - I don't know. I've seen a few people enjoy this story but I can't be sure if anyone will stick around for the artwork we're slugging away on). It's a poor effort for two weeks work, but oh well. Let the art begin: the following are by myself (Rev. Scotty Lorenz/William Wallet).

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