Chapter 63. Throwing in the Reserves.

  The MOBS in the cargo hold took up position behind the barricades, and a steady stream of plasma bolts hammered into the attacking creatures. Not all Watkins’ troops had been lucky enough to make it back aboard the Canon. Several of the things attacking them were able to leap, catching the MOBS unaware. As it stood, there were a total fifteen surviving troops remaining to defend the cargo hold.

  His fabricator was working overtime, trying to replenish his losses, but the flow of enemies didn’t seem to be letting up anytime soon. Their saving grace was that the monsters didn’t seem to have any type of ranged weapon. Ammunition was holding for the time being, he’d printed up plenty of power packs before the fight had begun, but even that wasn’t limitless.

  Vision over the station’s cargo hold was lost except for the small bit they could see through the other side of the boarding collar. The monsters continued to pour in as the attack progressed. A new variant began to appear, this one was more humanoid in nature and looked more like the verminkin aboard his vessel. These creatures were mostly missing limbs, and some had mechanical devices grafted onto them.

  A few of these even held laser pistols which they immediately put to work. At first, Watkins was worried that he was about to be overrun by some kind of super verminkin cyborgs, but whatever experiment had been conducted on them didn’t seem to be effective as none of the mechanical attachments were functioning. Most of them were dragging dead metal around, making them slower and less effective than the others.

  The creatures were forcing his MOBS to take cover more often as they exchanged fire. He was losing ground, and the monsters were inching their way through the boarding tube and toward his shuttle bay. His Mobs redoubled their efforts, putting up more fire, but taking losses that he couldn’t replace quickly enough.

  “We need more shooters,” Watkins said.

  “Send in Skitterbach?” Lani suggested.

  “I hate to risk them, but I don’t see a choice,” Watkins said. He activated the comms into the armory and crew quarters where the verminkin watched the fight unfold. Each of his crew were fully armed and armored, but their training wasn’t exactly up to standard. At least they all knew which end of the rifle to point at the enemy.

  “Skitterbach, we’ll need you to help repel the boarders. Send in one team at a time to replace the MOBS in the rear rank of barricades,” Watkins ordered.

  Skitterbach led the charge, calling the first team to join him as they hustled into the shuttle bay. There were two longer barricades forming the rear defensive line, and the closest one had two MOBS defending it. As the verminkin moved to join them, Watkins had the two MOBS shuffle forward to replace losses at the second line of defense.

  They repeated the process with the second team of the verminkin crew. He now had nine verminkin supporting the MOBS, which increased their firepower to the point that they were holding back the tide of enemy. More and more of the creatures attacking them were armed, though, and the rate of casualties was increasing.

  “Skitterbach, move more of your people in to fill up the second rank of barricades,” Watkins ordered. The new MOBS arriving were being sent to the first row of barricades where most of the enemy fire seemed to be directed. The enemy numbers were thinning, and despite all the enemy now being armed, the kill ratio was swinging more and more in favor of Watkins’ forces.

  A verminkin crewman was killed, in the second row, and then another. These were the first casualties they had taken among their living crew, and they hit Watkins harder than he had expected. These were his responsibility, his crew, and he was losing them like he had lost his human crew. The cold, calculating part of his core activated, reminding Watkins that the time for grief was after the battle was over.

  He had a fight to win, and the enemy were being ground down. Half a dozen of the cyborg-looking creatures used the bodies clogging the boarding hatch as cover, but the other attackers had all fallen. Watkins’ numbers were also increasing as the MOBS arrived faster than the casualties they took. The last enemy was finally killed and Watkins felt relief at having survived the bizarre assault.

  He was about to order some drones in to begin cleanup duty in the boarding collar when a fresh wave appeared. These were different from the previous two waves, these looked just like the verminkin that were his crew. Skitterbach and the others showed no remorse over killing their own kind and fired just as quickly as the MOBS.

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  Without the failed cybernetic enhancements to slow them down, the newly arrived verminkin closed the gap quicker. They were taking massive casualties, but managed to reach the first line of barricades, overwhelming the four MOBS there. Skitterbach shrieked, fired his pistol into the horde of enemies as he leaped over the barricade to join the melee.

  His crew responded in kind, following their leader into the fray. Watkins couldn’t let them attack unsupported and ordered his remaining MOBS into the counterattack. It was a bloodbath, and Skitterbach pushed aside several verminkin attackers, targeting one that lurked in the back. He raised his pistol, squeezing of a beam which struck his target in the arm, causing his foe to drop the pistol it held.

  Leaping forward, Skitterbach landed on his foe, knocking them both to the deck. Skitterbach’s chisel-like teeth latching onto the enemy’s throat. With a violent shake of his head, Skitterbach ripped the throat from his foe, who went limp as it rapidly bled out. Stading up to his full height, Skitterbach let out a ragged screech of victory before shouting.

  “I Skitterbach am Chief Petty Officer and master-leader of the people. Drop your weapons and surrender-submit or be thrown into the cookpot!” Skitterbach demanded. Only nine attackers remained alive, and all but three immediately followed Skitterbach’s orders. The remaining three merely clutched their heads in agony before resuming the attack. Watkins’ MOBS dealt with the trio that refused to surrender.

  “What was that all about Chief Skitterbach?” Watkins asked, using the verminkin’s rank to remind him of his position on the crew. He didn’t need a verminkin chief that disobeyed orders and blindly charged the enemy.

  “I seek-kill their leader, making me their leader-chief. Most obey, but a few not know their place,” he said, waving toward the bodies of the three that refused to surrender.

  “Gather up the prisoners and take them to the CIC. I’ll lock them in there until we can sort things out,” Watkins ordered. He’d place a drone just outside the compartment to keep an eye on things, but once relieved of their weapons, the verminkin made no threatening moves and seemed content to follow Skitterbach’s orders.

  Watkins hadn’t been planning on dealing with prisoners, and really didn’t have anything like a brig on the ship. There really wasn’t space for it, and if this trend continued, he’d have to see about maybe using a section of the testing compartment. Either that or give up on having both a bridge and a CIC, converting one of those to use for other purposes.

  “I hear-obey, Captain Watkins,” Skitterbach said, moving to gather up the six prisoners. Hopefully these would be as willing as the other verminkin to join the crew, but he didn’t have time to sort them out right now. He made a quick count, and they lost three crew members during the fight. A couple had injuries, but none that were life threatening.

  “Skitterbach, once you’ve dealt with the prisoners, have any wounded treated in the med bay. I don’t see any serious wounds on the prisoners but check if any of them need medical assistance. While you are at it, feed them and see what information you can get for us about the station’s defenses. I’ll counterattack soon and I want to know what we’re going to run into,” Watkins ordered.

  “Aye, Captain, I’ll make it happen,” Skitterbach said, saluting with his stump. It didn’t look like the cybernetics were effective on the verminkin-like creatures, but maybe they’d find something for Skitterbach’s missing hand, or at least something he could research into an eventual solution for him.

  Drones began to clear away the detritus of the battle, sending it all for reprocessing. Undamaged gear from his troops, and the laser pistols from the attackers were given a quick inspection then set aside for the replacement MOBS being printed up. Expended power packs were recharged while the MOBS took over the defense of the ship from the verminkin crew.

  There was no activity that he could see through the boarding collar, so Watkins sent a drone over to keep watch on things. There was a structural beam supporting the bulkhead that the drone could hide behind, giving it some protection from casual observation. Watkins didn’t think that Carter had the same capabilities as his core, but there was a good chance he had some way to observe the station.

  While that was happening, he listened in on Skitterbach’s conversation with his captured kin. They were more than willing to talk now that they considered him the leader, and they didn’t seem to hold any lingering loyalty to Carter or the others aboard the station.

  “You tell-speak what is on the station. How many defenders, and where the gun traps are,” Skitterbach demanded.

  “We not know-see much. It like we just wake up then ordered-commanded to attack. We had to obey-listen or be killed,” the verminkin prisoner claimed.

  It took a while, and a few questions that Watkins and Lani sent through secure comms for Skitterbach to ask before they had a picture of what the verminkin knew. They, like the rest of Watkins’ crew, had no knowledge of anything that wasn’t recent. It seems these verminkin remember waking in a lab, and having some painful experiments done to them.

  Eventually, they remembered the voice in their head being frustrated that it didn’t have complete control over most of them. They were sent into a compartment with bunks, then they all fell asleep until they were woken and ordered to attack Watkins’ forces. They passed through three compartments to get to the cargo hold and were able to give him a good idea of where the defensive turrets there were placed.

  “What do you make of their story?” Watkins asked as Skitterbach left the prisoners and Watkins sealed the hatch.

  “They speak-tell truth. Not know much but will probably join crew if you want them to,” Skitterbach said.

  “I think you’re right, but any chance of them joining the crew will have to wait until we’re done with the station. Our forces are almost back to the command limit, and then it’ll be time for the second attack,” Watkins said, already planning how their second strike would differ from the first.