Project Boussh: Separate Goals
by Majick

Did you ever have one of those days, where you wake up, and immediately wish
you hadn't?

Mike was having one.

Yearning for rest, he tried to haul himself to his feet. A hiss escaped his
lips as he tried to put weight on his left arm. He tried to focus past the
pain, but for a long second, his body threatened to pass out on him again.
Eventually, his vision cleared, and he registered dispassionately the
noticeable angle to his left forearm.

He wiped sweat from his brow, only to realise it was blood. His blood.
Spitting on the hangar deck, he noticed that his saliva was tinged red. With
blood. His blood. His ribs ached, and a sharp pain shot through him as he
took a breath. He suspected there were breaks.

Looking around, his gaze travelled over the myriad bodies scattered around
him. Captain Namor moaned quietly, his lifeblood draining from the gash along
his back. Mike ignored him, knowing there would be medics, and more
stormtroopers, arriving soon enough.

The Imperial Guardsmen, their robes and armour no longer coloured red purely
with dye, also lay at his feet. They were perforated, shards of alien alloys
and transparisteel sticking out of them. Looking closer, he saw the razor
sharp flechettes that were inside the mines he'd helped plant only a few
minutes before.

Casting his eyes further afield, he saw the bodies of slain Noghri. Once
again, he mourned the loss of comrades in action; this time he knew there
was no hope for them. He managed to get to his feet, only for a whole
catalogue of hurt to scream at him for his attention. Clutching his left arm
where a flechette had sliced across the biceps, cradling the forearm
protectively against his chest, he staggered over to the body of the Noghri
leader, Ahkrak. Staring into the corpse's dark eyes, Mike offered a silent
salute, an acknowledgement of the warrior's decision to trigger the mines,
at the cost of his own life.

He spun around at a slight rustle, and his eyes were drawn to a movement on
the far side of the circle of corpses. Limping as fast as he could, he moved
around the dead bodies, before kneeling down beside Decras, the youngest of
the Noghri. The Noghri had a fierce burn running across his chest and face,
and was breathing only weakly. He also had a shard of transparisteel
sticking from his right leg. Mike wished he knew more first aid. He dragged
his hand across his brow again, to wipe off the blood accumulating there.

Suddenly, Decras' eyes focussed behind Mike, and the young Terran felt a
tight pressure around his undamaged wrist.

"Not good enough, boy," a voice rasped in his ear. Mike felt himself spun
around, and slammed against a bulkhead. Strong hands clasped around his
throat, and he felt himself being lifted into the air.

"Not bad," the voice continued. "But not nearly good enough. I am an officer
in the Imperial Navy, boy, and you are not. Where one of us survives, we
fight on, to the death. Your death."

Mike managed to tilt his head enough to see whom his attacker was. Eripme
was holding him nearly two feet off the ground, the Major's long arms
allowing him to slowly choke the life from him.

Mike kicked out feebly, trying to hit Eripme, or force himself off the
bulkhead. Eripme laughed nastily. "Not today, boy. Not ever. With you dead,
I'll be accepted again as one of the best officers around. You, meanwhile,
will have to accept being thrown out into space. I hear it's a very painful
death... I sincerely hope so."

Eripme spun around with a speed that blurred Mike's vision. He felt himself
flying through the air, then crashing to the ground. He lay amongst the
damaged and destroyed carcasses of the mined TIEs -why hadn't they been
launched? he wondered- and watched blearily as the white-armour clad Eripme
limped over to him.

"Power armour, boy," he said, bending down to haul Mike into the air again.
"On my own, I couldn't do this, but my armour allows me to do some very
impressive things. Like... this!"

Suiting actions to words, Eripme hauled Mike into the air once more, and
threw him still closer to the magcon field holding the atmosphere inside the
hangar. Mike came to rest, further bruised and battered, lying only a scant
few feet from the field. Eripme approached once more, and lifted Mike to his
feet as easily as before.

"Oh, I won't pretend I'm not hurt, but this armour works on what I'm
thinking, not on what my body can do. It's a progression from zero gravity
armour, and I'm highly lucky I was able to obtain some, before the research
project was shut down.

"Imagine, if you will! They said that prolonged wear could lead to damage to
the wearer's mind! They could go mad!!" Eripme looked fierce, his face
contorted in his madness.

Eripme turned to face the magcon field. And moved slowly towards it.

"I wonder if you will go mad, boy? Will the oxygen deprivation kill you
quickly, or will you die slowly, and oh so very painfully. I hope it's the
second one. Don't you?" Eripme's face had become almost serene, only a
twitching eyelid betraying his growing lack of control.

Mike felt his back tingle as Eripme pushed him against the field. Without
any apparent effort, his arm came up still further, lifting Mike into the
air, pushing his back through the field. Mike could feel the cold
immediately, could feel the tingle as the magcon field sparked against his
neck.

Mike flailed at Eripme, desperately trying to get the older man to drop him,
but forwards. Backwards, Mike's addled mind was warning him, would be a bad
thing. Looking past Eripme, Mike felt a jolt of hope running through him. He
could see Decras crawling slowly towards the two of them, dragging his leg,
and leaving a trail of blood behind him. Mike knew he had to hold Eripme's
attention.

"So kill me. But you'll never know the truth," he croaked.

"What truth?" Eripme asked, a puzzled expression on his face.

"The truth about Luke Skywalker, and Darth Vader, and how it was Han Solo, a
worthless smuggler, came to marry Princess Leia, most eligible woman in the
galaxy. I know who taught Luke to use the Force, where they were living, I
can even tell you where you can find a blaster in the Imperial palace on
Coruscant. I'll tell you everything, just don't kill me! Please!"

It didn't take much for Mike to simulate crying. Truth be told, the tears
had been threatening to spill out for several minutes, and only sheer
stubbornness had held them in. Now they flowed freely, and Eripme paused.

"You can't know as much as that. You're only a child from a backwater
planet."

Decras was closer now, his battered body travelling far faster than Mike
would have thought possible. He was a true tribute to Noghri tenacity.

"And I'm entrusted with a mission as important as this? I'm actually Airen
Cracken, I've just gone through some major surgery."

Eripme, growing more and more insane, looked dubious, and then came to a
conclusion.

"You will tell me everything, and just to be sure..." He grabbed Mike's left
arm, and he twisted it, grinding the broken bone hard. Spots flashed before
Mike's eyes, and he slumped to his knees as Eripme released his hold on the
younger man's throat.

Reacting blindly, Mike bought his undamaged right arm up in an uppercut
landing in Eripme's stomach. The jolt triggered the weapon he wore on that
arm, sending six inch long steel spikes through the black plastaluminum
material. Eripme screamed, and released his hold on Mike's arm. He staggered
back, letting Mike slump to the ground.

Decras rose from his crouching position and pushed off on his unhurt leg.
The spring carried him the few feet into the small of Eripme's back, and the
Major stumbled forward, before losing his balance and falling headfirst into
the magcon field. Eripme seemed to scream, though he could not be heard, as
he sailed out into space.

Mike looked at the man once, before looking away. Instead, he looked to
Decras, who lay panting on the floor.

"We have to get out of here," he rasped, his throaty burning. Cradling his
damaged arm, he climbed wearily to his feet, and looked sorrowfully down at
his torn and tattered trenchcoat. He sighed, and helped Decras to stand,
supporting the young Noghri.

"How can we leave?" Decras asked, his eyes glazed.

Mike turned to face the curtain he'd investigated earlier.

"Right through here," he replied.