Takahashi, Mikako

[Bakamono]

Two more lay dead at her feet, she had not relished their deaths. She displaced and awaited the third.

Identified way before his arrival, like his friends, the third bore a lamp which bobbed haphazardly as its wearer ran.
“Jim? ….Guys? O crap...”

Mikako heard his rifle charge as a suppressed squeal, his nervous approach was marked as he fired at inconsequential movements of his mechanical environment. Broken conduits, bundles of wires - and tubing fell from the breaches he created. She allowed herself a small, wicked grin at the mans fear whilst she tracked his tentative approach. She made her way up behind him, ready to sever his head, quickly and cleanly. The stray end of a dangling pipe caught her artificial arm, sounding a dull clink.

Spinning in alarm the panicked man fired, Mikako lunged desperately in an attempt to strike first but she was too late. Pain erupted in her left fibula, the shock of injury sending a tremor of primal warning throughout her being. A scream leapt from her throat as agony lanced its way through like malevolent electricity.

Her lunge became an awkward fall forwards – her tattered left hand gripped and steadied the naked blade as it punched awkwardly through the mans rifle. The pair fell under Mikakos momentum, the blade reached further still, through to the mans chest – pinning the fizzling firearm to his torso. It was not a clean strike, the man spasmed for moments, trapped beneath the woman and the useless rifle. His eyes wide, his face incredulous in denial as his life ebbed painfully.

She did not wait to watch him die, with dire need she rolled off the dying man, fumbling for a slap-patch. She peripherally noticed her victim weakly feed the sword out from his chest with difficulty, before his gurgling death-rattle sounded.

Mikako inspected her wounded leg – the blast had messily torn away clothing and flesh, leaving a deep red wound which exposed bone. The pain threatened to overwhelm her: hastily tearing away stray threads of trouser, she applied the patch to her exposed skin and gasped with relief as the drugs were administered. Crawling to the body she repeated her scavenging, retrieved her sword and began looking for something suitable to use as a splint. Slithering her way through the darkness.

Finally limping into the bridge of her shadowy prison, Takahashi found Dozer alone with a co-pilot: both frustratedly juggling console operations to regain navigation. Emergency lighting pulsed rhythmic and slow, alternately revealing and obscuring the scene.

Without a word she shot the navigator who sprawled backwards in his chair, his chest smoking from a three inch cauterized breach. With surprising speed, the giant Dozer rolled from his seat as shots raked across it and the surrounding consoles. The rifle issued its empty tone and was tossed aside as Mikako drew the pistol.

Like a charging bull, dozer advanced – crossing the distance quickly with massive strides – his grotesquely muscled arms lashed out even as Taka fired. The smell of singed flesh caught the air as the giant yowled and punched haphazardly, wild with rage. Mikako was caught by the assault, her body flung sideways onto flickering readout desks – their screens cracked with the impact. Her makeshift crutch clattered away along with the pistol.

Rising slowly, Mikako listened for the giants approach. His heavy footfalls quickened, she gauged his distance and carefully drew the knife.
Timing her manoeuvre, she rolled at the last instant: Dozer crashed into the monitors noisily. Dragging herself upright, Mikako had a moment to take aim with the knife before she threw. The giant turned on her, the blade left her hand spinning end-over-end, Dozer howled as the blade point struck his head, burying itself in his left eye socket. The brutes howl extended into a scream as he thrashed impotently in anguish.

Though dying: the hulking Dozer advanced upon his once-captive as she drew her sword. Narrow squirts of blood erupted erratically from his wound, stumbling on his final steps became weaker: almost collapsing into a fast crawl, he reached for Mikako.

As she watched Dozer struggle in vain, she noted her own grudging admiration for his tenacity – never had she faced anything like him. As the brute fell lower, she threw momentum into a spin, forcing her body to obey her will.

Dozer passed behind her briefly, the long blade came around with her full weight behind it, before meeting the giants head in a terrible ripping slice. Her momentum sent her stumbling sideways as she watched the top of the giants skull separate in a thin explosion of crimson blood.

With most of the crew dead and no power, Mikako sat for a moment – collapsing into the captains chair with exhaustion. She regarded her uniform, remarking how marred it had become, what was left of her sleeves had stiffened with blood, dried thick and black. Still clutching her sword, she noted its tainted sheen, it's delicate filigree invisible beneath liquid ichor.

The inertia of this hulk would carry her for a while, but without main power the ship would not get far. Wearily she looked over to her father, sitting near a flickering nav console, his face dimly lit by the eerie yellow light. “I do not recognise these coordinates, but we have a bearing for this systems star - one point abaft the starboard beam”

“Arigatou helm...” she glanced across the line of arrayed readouts “do we have any manoeuvring capability?”
“Hai, jets seem intact”
“Alright see if you can bring us about slowly, I do not want sacrifice too much of our speed.”
“No response: looks like the relay might be damaged.”
“Hai...of course” Mikako snorted at the absurdity of her situation.
“I suppose someone should see to that.” She rose awkwardly, staggering briefly before crossing to a console to get a schematic of her current abode. The prospect of another term adrift was not appealing.

She tapped at a series of controls on the chair before lifting her gaze to a distant screen – which intermittently displayed areas of the ship in cross section. With some vexing readjustment she managed to scan through the ships schematics to locate the thruster relays: once patched she could turn the ship, ride it closer to the sun and launch a pod for a better chance at being found.

*****

She had picked through every likely holding space she could find within the smugglers bizarre ship – resulting in a few days extra oxygen, paste and water. She ripped the scrubbers from another pod and made sure it was obviously disabled, before supplying her own – newly acquired pod. The smugglers escape pods were dusty and cheap compared to those she was used to, but at least the one she had selected did not contain bio-matter.

During her time in the labyrinth the same thoughts occurred to Takahashi again and again...
Could it have been simply a random alien-attack? Would they deign to interrupt the meeting with the Marechal?
Perhaps: though I doubt they would consider ~me~ noteworthy. I doubt they would even care who gave the order to assault the Arch.

Perhaps being here has made me paranoid, but the timing was just too convenient: the single round in the pistol and the missing supplies all point to a conspiracy. Someone must have either used or, more likely, colluded with the aliens.

Father agrees, but then he would: since he is a construct of my own mind.