The crew on the bridge erupted in a frenzy of activity. The Vakarian Warchief barked orders at his subordinates, vein throbbing dangerously in his forehead.
"Send additional troops to the secondary location, we must not lose another scout ship!"
In the midst of this chaos, I had a brief window in which to signal my allies beside me. I dared not speak of course, but through a series of looks and facial gestures, I believed we were in agreement. We had to escape and return home. I couldn't help but wonder just why these scout ships were so vital, but such questions could wait until we were free from the Warchief.
The pair on the screen continued to talk, unaware of the situation on the bridge. Their feed must have been one way only. The younger woman, Osgood, spoke.
"This technology is fascinating ma'am."
"Save the admiration for the debrief Osgood. We've still got a war to fight."
"Yes. True. It's just that... this scouting craft has a tachyon generator."
"Very interesting, I'm sure."
"Ma'am, this craft is transmitting some kind of temporal signature into the past. None of this makes sense. What purpose could it possibly serve, and how do these warmongering savages have such advanced science. If you'll pardon the expression."
The older woman's face hardened as she continued to stare off screen.
"All very worthy questions Osgood. But they'll have to wait. Alien reinforcements inbound. Good Lord, they've already taken out our perimeter guard."
"Then, I guess we have no other choice."
"Stand and fight. To the last."
"Something like that. Kate, if I invert this power coupling, I can trigger an energy overflow in the system. The scout ship will detonate, terminating their signal."
"And us along with it... I see. How many rounds do you have left?"
"Twelve. You?"
"Sixteen. And there's several dozen minimum rising over the edge of the plateau. Do it, but wait until they approach to detonate. If we're going out were taking as many of them with us as we can."
"It's been an honour, ma'am."
"Likewise Osgood."
The Vakarian bridge crew finally managed to terminate the signal from UNIT. The holographic map reappeared on the wall display, and with it the three highlighted areas. The disc denoting Peru was alternating between red and orange now. With a frustrated roar from the Vakarians, the disc turned a solid red. The scout ship was destroyed, along with the brave souls from UNIT. This left only a single scout ship left active on the planet, if I was interpreting the map correctly. And where else was it located... Cork. The Warchief was livid, with just a hint of panic and even fear in his face. He seemed to double take as he turned towards us, as if he'd practically forgotten we were still stood before him.
"Increase our presence around the tertiary scout zone. It must not fall! And kill these humans, now!"
It was fine for action. Over the past few minutes, I had worked my hands slowly behind my back, so as not to arouse suspicion. My right hand was curled around he handle of the dagger Susan had gifted me, waiting to strike. As the Warchief called for our execution, I pulled the knife from my belt, aiming it at his head. Unfortunately I struck his shoulder, but it was enough to provide a distraction. Susan and Dave charged at the two Vakarians who were escorting us, catching them off guard and forcing them to the floor. Making use of the panic, the three of us ran to the section where our weapons and the transmat device were stored. Urgently we scrambled for our gear, and activated the device. At the same moment, the Warchief had pulled the knife from his shoulder and flung it back at us. It reached us just as we were phasing away...
The three of us landed roughly back in the courtyard we had left. The area was devoid of Vakarians, while a handful of survivors were searching the complex for more supplies. I turned to make sure my allies had also landed without injury when my blood ran cold. Susan was standing, a look of shock and pain etched on her face. Silently she collapsed to her knees, before keeling forward into the gravel. The handle of her knife protruding from the centre of her back.
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