The Lazarus War: Legion by Jamie Sawyer Read Free Book Online

“Lazarus Actual, do you read?”
    “This is Actual,” I said,. “I read, but I’m busy right now.”
    “Command reads your position. Team appears compromised.”
    “Negative. Hostiles present. Shuttle has been lost.”
    “We saw that. Suggest that you make extraction. Call it a day, Lazarus. It’s over.”
    “Fuck that.”
    I thought-commanded the station map onto my HUD, still firing away at the encroaching Krell. It wasn’t over; it couldn’t be. Saul was alive. There was still a chance that the mission could be redeemed. The evac-pod. A route to the pod lit on my map: back through the main corridor, through the living quarters.
    “I can make it to the evac-pod. I can do this.”
    “The station is crawling with hostiles, Lazarus.”
    “Then why are we wasting time talking? I have a job to do.”
    “The extraction is hot. More Krell are inbound. We’re bugging out in two minutes, tops.”
    “Fuck you. Lazarus Actual out.”
    Jenkins grunted beside me. She was still holding the unknown scientist, one hand locked around the man’s wrist, the other grappling with the anchor point. The civvie bashed against the deck—
    Jenkins slipped again, and then she was gone.
    No more ceremony than that: even in a sim, she couldn’t hold the man’s weight any longer. She spun along the deck – out of the shuttle doors, the blue-suited civvie beside her, and into the inferno below.
    Mason had Saul. He was still teetering on his mag-locks, that ridiculous armoured case swinging back and forth.
    A Krell stinger-spine clipped me. The round lodged in my shoulder and the impact threw me backwards. It carried a poison load – enough to kill Saul, enough to seriously injure me. My locks gave out, and I started to slide the way that Jenkins had just gone.
    “Not me, you bastards!” I shouted.
    I immediately let go of my rifle. Irrelevant now; staying alive was far more important. In exactly the same way as Jenkins, Martinez, everyone else I’d lost on this damned mission, I started to claw at the sky – desperate for something to grab on to.
    Sim Ops taught me how to die but Special Forces taught me how to survive. I learnt my craft as a soldier during covert ops; using my environment and adapting to it. You don’t forget those skills.
    I connected with the deck and grabbed at the space between floor tiles. One hand caught – by the tips of my fingers. Then the other hand caught as well. I roared with the exertion – all of my armoured weight held on my fingertips – but held tight.
    “Glove mag-locks!” I roared.
    The magnetic strips in my gloves were weak, not intended for use in these circumstances, but they would have to do. Anything to help me stay put.
    Above me, Mason and Saul were still on their feet. Mason was shooting at the Krell – now below me.
    “Not today…” I whispered to myself.
    Out of the corner of my eye, the semi-translucent picture of Elena was still on my HUD.
    She’s why I have to do this. She is why I can’t give up.
    One hand over the other, I began to climb towards Mason and Saul. Behind them, the bay entrance door was still open – and that was a route back into the station, to the evac-pod. My gloves were fully powered and I began to dig my fingertips into the metal flooring. I made finger holds of the gaps between every tile. As I prised each one up, I moved on to the next handhold. Meanwhile Krell fire rained all around me and my bio-scanner went berserk with incoming hostiles.
    “Fall back towards the door,” I ordered.
    “Affirmative,” Mason said.
    Her null-shield lit with sidearms fire. It was only a few steps to the bulkhead but in these conditions it seemed impossible. Mason was now bleeding, I realised, from several stinger impacts.
    STATION IN TERMINAL DECLINE, my AI declared.
    SHUT UP, I commed back.
    As I got nearer, I heard that Saul was praying. He wept in great, chortling waves; a man afraid that he was about to meet his maker. His exact words were unclear but