Chapter Nineteen: Despite Yourself

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With a growl, Forte stopped stabbing Clasher, took a tentacle, and knocked Cinnabar off of her feet. Then, the tentacle wrapped around her throat, and even though Cinnabar had the helmet and her spacesuit protecting her, her reflexes instantly had her hands on the tentacle, trying to yank it off.

Petri turned away and stayed flush against the wall. He didn't know what to do; he wasn't a hero, after all. He was just the Science Officer onboard and didn't have any knowledge on how to fight against a very angry and triggered Impostor.

"You know, Tal, I think I get why we settle for these human bodies," Forte said in a very disturbing voice. It was almost like the words were being pulled from his mouth; like Forte didn't have any control of what he was saying. "Even though they are fragile, their spirits are very determined. But I don't think you can hear me now, can you?"

"I... can... hear... you..."

"Hmm, I believe not. Too much stress on the body? You know, if we were still in Be'herle and Werserk, that would only be a warm-up. Unfortunately, my body has limits as well as yours, it seems like."

Petri didn't know what that meant, but he had to get all of them out of there quickly. He looked around the room, trying to find anything that could be used to immobilize or stun Forte. The only thing that he could think of was to break off a branch of the tree and whack Forte with it. Which wasn't a great idea considering the fact that Petri wasn't an athletic person.

Okay, plan B, then. (Not like there was a plan B.)

Petri risked a glance outside and his eyes fell on the two guns and the knife, the latter of which was the closest to him. But, with Petri's luck, he'd end up shooting or stabbing Commander Harrison before he shot/stabbed Forte. Besides, Forte was on the total opposite side of the room. A very bloodstained room. And with all the blood on the floor, it was bound to be slippery.

Plan C, then. (Again, no plan C!)

Petri poked his head outside, looked around the room one more time, and remembered the O2 canisters. They were so pressurized that there was a literal rule made in that they could only be handled with the claw.

The only problem... no. Petri, don't poke holes in all of the solutions when you don't have time to come up with better ones. Just do it.

He took a deep breath and rummaged through his pockets, coming up with stray test tubes and the petri dish that contained the ashes of his mother. The only thing that Petri needed was for Forte to turn his head the other way so that Petri could get to the O2 canisters unnoticed until it was too late.

The next minutes happened in a blur. The moment that Petri threw the test tube across the room and Forte turned his head, Petri burst out of hiding, managing to swipe the knife up while only fumbling twice. He slid into O2 and grabbed a mini-O2 canister. Stumbling back out, he realized what a stupid plan that he made and internally cursed as Forte came running at him, all other victims forgotten and the tentacles' target Petri himself.

He brought the O2 canister up just in the nick of time to have Forte stab that instead of his internal organs.

The force of the break pushed Petri back and very nearly shattered his visor, but it had a worse effect on Forte (he was, after all, in front of the exit point and with ten hector-tons of pressure, that was definitely going to hurt). Forte (and/or Dax) roared in pain and stripped off his helmet, clawing at his eyes. The tentacles retracted into Forte's back, revealing a mess of blood that had stained the green spacesuit red, and a gaping hole in which the wound was visible.

"I can't believe that worked!" Petri shouted. He dropped the canister and was grinning like crazy. "I can't believe that worked!!!"

Cinnabar turned over and staggered to her feet. Petri guessed that it was the tentacle that was holding Clasher down that he used to attempt murder. "Cuz, how could you do something... so stupid that it worked?"

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