Soul of a Gambler

Part XIV - "'The' Jax Davis"

There are few greater motivations than the echoes of gunfire through metal hallways. This is a truth Jax discovered as he and Arna labored to free themselves of the suits that provided them the most minimal degree of protection against the vacuum. Jax ripped at the rubbery material and created a makeshift dressing he had Arna tie around his midsection to protect the wound that resembled a cut like a chef might make when examining the doneness of a steak. 

Pain washed away amid waves of adrenaline, and Jax threw his drab green canvas duster over his body then reloaded his weapon. Arna picked up the assault rifle she had taken with her from the fire control center, and with the revolver raised by his cheek Jax took point at the door.

Sounds like a bloody, banging sermon in a dozen different tongues called through the wide halls and open chambers. Jax and Arna ran right to them. In the chamber that served as an atrium for the middle deck of the ship, the un-uniform forces that aligned with Jax were pinned down on the floor below, being fired upon by dug-in Krazorans with heavy cannons that bent the metal of the ship away with their shots.

 Jax and Arna hid against either side of an open pressure door, and Jax motioned for her to stay. He took aim as best he could with the heavy iron, sighting the broad side of the closest Krazoran soldier that still hadn't noticed him. He cursed the gravity, having not missed the likely twenty-plus pound weight of the "handgun".

As he was noticed, and before any potential attacker could turn, he squeezed the trigger. A harsh thwack! Left the weapon and he shut the door. He could hear harsh metal pings and another set of shouts, and didn't open the door until both had ceased. Arna left first, sweeping the barrel of her weapon along the line of bodies with gashes in their gallant armor and assorted amputations.

Jax leaned over the bulkhead of the catwalk and waved to the survivors, who cheered back to him and thundered up the stairs after his example. He signalled to her and there was a pause before a burst of automatic fire cut through the applause. With a sunken face Arna put a handful of rounds into a Krazoran who hadn't been finished by the bouncing bullet. Then they moved on.

They followed a trail of bodies in a ratio of three conscripts to one Imperial marine to the elevators, where two had their backs turned to the entrance. Jax took aim at a far wall off to the left, trying to line up the projectile like a billiards shot. He pulled the trigger and pulled Arna away from the area where the corridor widened to enter the chamber.

 The bright almost tracer like bullet bounced between the walls, punching holes in armor and severing limbs at the joints. The Imperials fell in a heap of warbling electronic cries. He gestured for Arna to polish them off with the burning amber barrel.

With a face so unlike the red haze of battle that Jax had become so familiar, she did so. Each shot shaved away a little of her heart, and when she was sure they wouldn't rise once more she called the elevator.

"Up or down?"

"What'cha mean?" Jax asked while he reloaded the spent two shells in Triple Regret. 

"You don't at all think these guys are interested in what we're carrying belowdeck? Maybe our reactor? Any of that?"

He shrugged, she had a fair point.

"Down we go, then."

They entered the elevator with its swiss-cheese walls and descended. The doors open onto a quiet killing field that made Jax visibly cringe. He took a minute to fish for his cigarette case and light himself a smoke as he took in the carnage.

"Arna, holy shit did you do this?"

She gestured with wide arms at the recently-dead, Blackwatch, alien conscripts, and Krazoran soldiers all equal on the riverboat, "Do you really think I did this?"