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It doesn’t last long. With the skirmish over, more than a handful of the crew aren’t able to keep their emotions in line anymore. Some fall to their knees, staring blankly out to sea. Others collapse atop the corpses of their friends and colleagues, weeping hysterically and pleading for them to wake up. Even with through the gunfight from the forward deck, HOPI’s sensors are keen enough to isolate each source of the noise.
You quietly mute the external speakers. “How many?”
“…I count nine dead, and fifteen more wounded,” whispers HOPI.
And that’s just the aft deck. That isn’t accounting for whatever fighting’s going on below decks and the forward section of the Calypso. Or the Khanate soldiers, for that point. Not that many had survived to surrender or otherwise allow themselves to be taken into custody. What few were able to had jumped into the boat that shot up to the forward deck.
Carter’s got one of them by the scruff of his clothing. From the burns that stretch lop-sided across his body, he must’ve been on the wrong end of your plasma cutter. “Tell me how you knew where to find us, and I just might let the medics treat you.”
The raider works his mouth, spitting a bloody fleck into the specialist’s face. “You’ll have to kill me first before I dishonor the-”
BANG.
The marauder flops bonelessly onto the deck. It had been quick, a clean shot right through the side of his head. He hadn’t even noticed. Startled, all eyes turn towards the source of the noise: an opened hatch leading down into the lower decks, and the smoking gun held in Sergeant Kwan’s grip.
“Bet,” growls the officer as he hauls himself onto the top deck. He’s visibly limping, leaning on Halloway’s shoulder as approaches the shocked survivors. Behind him trail an odd collection of workers, dockhands, COs and NCOs. “Don’t waste your time showing these bastards any mercy. They won’t reciprocate. Besides…”
He motions for his men, who approach the wounded pirates. One by one, without hesitation, Kwan’s marines execute them before Holt or any of the others can shout or stop them. “…you won’t get any answers out of the rank and file. You’ll want to capture the armored ones. They're Bloodied. Bring ‘em to me, and I’ll make them sing like a Pearl District diva.”
Unsurprisingly, his cadre are given a very wide berth as they file into the barricade. Everyone stands around, uncertain for how to react before Holt goads them into treating the wounded and refilling magazines with ammunition. Not that the chief’s about to let the sergeant get the last word in.
“The captain will hear of this,” she threatens with a disapproving look in her eyes.
Kwan almost seems amused. A sardonic, wry grin tugs at the side of his face. “Let’s hope so. He and the XO are still in the pilot house last I heard. We’d better get to them first before the Khanate does. They take the bridge, they've got control."
(cont.)
