From: scavanag@neumann.une.edu.au (Steven Cavanagh) Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn Subject: [DDD]4/4: The Demise of Dwayne Delaney pt2 Message-ID: <2296@grivel.une.edu.au> Date: 23 Oct 92 11:59:06 GMT Dwayne deposited the bag containing the ammo and flight recorder unit at the guardsman's feet. "Stay here" he said."I'll be back". With that, he started up the hill again. An emergency escape vehicle was built for comfort, survival and endurance, and, depending on their location, could be salvaged for useful parts or even reuse. This, however, was a colonial marine emergency escape vehicle. Upon entering the outer lock Dwayne made for the control panel and started following standard procedure. Inserting his dog tag in the slot produced a solitary beep followed by a magnetic key which he plugged into its purposeful place, and with a click opened a small door. Breaking the seal, he pocketed the remote switch and set to work on the bank of connections in front of him. Working quickly, Dwayne armed the bomb. When he was finished, he clambered out of the lock. Had he forgotten anything? no, the short range transmitter was with the flight recorder unit, ready to be activated in a week or so. Clothes, ammo, memories. He had more than enough from the SULACO. (inside something dropped from the third compartment soundlessly onto the hypersleep chamber. Its senses strained for the heat it had once more detected, but Dwayne had moved away from the lock). Someone was walking toward the bottom of the hill. As the figure plodded wordlessly toward the watchmen, it had its eyes raised to the hill, ignoring the burly guards until one spoke. "Take your leave, citizen. This is a quarantine area by order of the council of the city of Glerrrk!.." his words were cut out as a hand thrust through his studded armour and emerged again just as quick, trailing an arc of red. The neck of another was snapped before the stunned watchmen could draw weapons, then the unarmed intruder was ringed by three pikes and a falchion. The Terminator did not pause, grasping a pike in an iron grip and thrusting it into the man opposite. As the falchion was swung the figure caught it on an open arm with a muffled clunk as the blade bit through the rubber to the metal within, then the arm holding the falchion was not its owners any longer. The pikes were not effective at such short range (even if the opponent had been human), and in moments more it was all over. The T-600 immediately started up the hill. Dwayne watched the slaughter with the hardness born of years in the marines. His face showed total calm as he fluidly reached over his shoulder and drew the shotgun, pointing it at the approaching figure. "End of the line, Ivanhoe. I don't play around". The figure did not falter his unhurried advance. "Try and die, buddy. You have no idea who you're dealing with". The other stopped, a short distance from him. Terminator regarded marine with an emotionless gaze. "I need your weapon" he said, starting toward him again. "Fine" said Dwayne."Have it." The blast ripped through the clothes of the figure, arresting his forward motion. The T-600 was pushed backward, flailing his arms. It toppled over, and lay still. Dwayne edged cautiously toward the body, levelling the shotgun at it even though his logical mind told him the man was dead and his spine was probably back down with the guards somewhere. He had seen many casualties, and knew well the way instructions were carried through the nervous system after death, which explained the twitching of the fingers. He bent over the body and had just seen the glint of metal within the pulped torso when the shotgun was snatched out of his hand. Sweet poontang, Dwayne gasped, stepping back. Some sort of combat synthetic. Wordlessly the Terminator climbed to his feet and pointed the shotgun at the marine. A sledgehammer blast hit dwayne full in the chest, and his back arched away from the Terminator with the force of it. He was thrown uphill, staying upright for a second and started to fall. Dwayne crumpled to the ground. The Terminator walked forward and bent over the body, his eyes scanning for more weapons he could use, when the weapon in his hands was kicked to the sky by a lightning boot from below. Dwayne rolled nimbly out of his reach, and held his sore stomach with a wincing grin. "Kevlar armour, you alloyed pap smear" he spat. The stuff wouldn't stop anything made to penetrate, but shotgun blasts were spread enough for the armour to distribute the force of it. He sprang for the weapon, lying a few feet away, and swung it to face the Terminator. The blast drove it back again. . Damn! he should have counted. The unstoppable machine continued toward him with the same relentless advance. Dwayne threw the empty weapon at it in disgust, then turned and clambered up the side of the EEV, the T-600 not far behind him. Dwayne clawed his way toward the entrance lock. Maybe he had left a grenade behind? perhaps he could go in, come out the auxilliary lock and run for his pulse rifle. The 10mm explosive-tipped caseless standard light armour piercing rounds would blow that sucker apart. Even if he got in and shut the lock it would give him time to think. He reached the lip of the lock and was about to drop down the far side when the pursuing hand of the Terminator gripped his leg painfully and pulled him down as the killing machine loomed over him. There was a sharp sound as something blurred over his head. The facehugger clamped onto the face of the Terminator with an iron grip, snaking its tail around the neck and drawing it tight. As the grip on his leg loosened, Dwayne scrabbled up to the lock, reflexively fleeing from his nightmare given new life, a soundless scream welling within him. He had seen men killed in attempts to get the parasite off them. The alien's prey, however, was not a man. He slipped and skidded to the edge of the EEV, grasping wildly at the obstacle to his vision, then slowly gripped the tail and unwound it, still thrashing, from his neck. His other hand grasped the body of the facehugger in a hydraulic grip, and with a wet tearing sound pulled it from his head. His face came with it. Dwayne stared wide-eyed as the rubber fell to the charred heat shielding and vanished over the edge to the hillside below. The skull underneath was gleaming metal, and two brilliant orbs of red glared their mechanical hate at him. The arms swung back, and the writhing parasite flew through the air toward the marine. A reflexive twist saved Dwayne's life. The alien embryo carrier passed over him into the lock, leaving a slimy line along his cheek from the whipping tail. It landed deep within the EEV, and instantly scuttled toward the marine. Dwayne leaped for the lock door, all thoughts of the Terminator driven from his mind at the realisation of his nightmare and what it could do not only to him, but the entire planet. His fingers closed on the handle in a deathlike grip, Dwayne swung the door as the alien sprang at him. The two met at juction of door and doorway, and with a squishing sound the metal door held the facehugger. But only on Dwayne's strength. The marine's mind raced as he sought a way out of the stalemate, the parasite's fingers scrabbling over his own. The alien couldn't get to him and the outside world, but he couldn't leave. The consequences for this place (what had they called it? Generica?) would be the same as his nightmare past that dominated his very existence. He couldn't, WOULDN'T let that happen. But the stalemate had a third player. Dwayne glanced behind him at the Terminator unhurriedly crawling toward him. The marine's hand crept into his pocket, found the remote. He briefly wondered if everyone would know how close they came. He smiled at the blood coloured eyes. "Lights out, sunshine." He thumbed the switch, and the universe was white. ********************** Antald closed the door and yawned so wide he thought his face would split. Stumbling into his room, he closed the door and was startled awake by a pair of red pinpoints that regarded him coldly from beneath a hooded cloak. The figure dropped the two sacks it had been carrying and, opening one, drew out a pile of shreds of what looked like dried fish, but the accompanying smell was not present. Then Antald noticed that the material was similar to the arms that held them. The hand on the end of one threw back the hood. "I have need of..mending" said the Terminator. Antald stared in shock. "No kiddin'" he stammered. ********************** When he left the home of the late Antald, the T-600 inspected the cleric's handiwork. The blast of the EEV had been blocked to some extent by the shielding, and while the damage to his rubber skin had been major, there was little structural damage, and he had been able to repair himself with little trouble. Now, thanks to this place's healing methods, he could again pass as a human. He opened the other sack. Red lights not unlike his own shone back at him from the darkness within, forming the number 99. The clip was full. He reached in again, and pulled out another object. Smoothly, he put on the glarespecs, adjusted his leather armour, and once again strode into the Generican darkness. _-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_- | Steven Cavanagh | The force, y'know, It's got a lot of (Cav) | power. | -Michael Jackson. scavanag@neumann.une.oz.au | | _-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-