Seventy Hours on Raener-12 : Part 10

Hour 027

We had found it.

My team and I flanked the door.

In coordinated routine I took the center stance while the others fanned. Two men lined the left and right: Collin guarded my back. I touched my clip then held a flat, gloved palm up to my men: Wait to reload. In eerie unison the team mimicked my signal. We were ready...I was ready.

For a short spell I eyed the gap in the door. That dent, that silver slash showcased the only survivor swirling in orange light, cradled near the exit.
I remember watching my vitals fluctuate on-screen. My heart rate crested the triple digits; my small window began to fog with my staggered breathing. Finger stroking the trigger of my rifle, all that held the charge back was my own voice, my own order. The hall rang with deathly, shunted silence.

"This is Raener-12 Neutralization and Recovery Unit Nine."

The swirling head shot upward, attentive and alert. I continued on.

"Remain in that position, discard any weapons and--"

The blur groped to its feet, flashed across the small room, hobbled stiffly to another corner.

"Remain still!" I barked. "Drop down now!"

It reached a wall and rummaged around. I heard objects strike the floor and roll. In militant tunnel vision, I intently focused on the red and orange magma that coalesced inside its body. I knew I had only one chance and recognized it as the chances we had trained for.

Seconds of hesitation passed. I cocked my rifle; the men reloaded. The sound of dancing shells filled the tubular hall, as penetrating and loud as an air raid. I showed two fingers, listened to our target's sounds, saw my men move and roll. The signal was out.

Four simultaneous shots bit the air. Four gaping metal holes revealed themselves.

The red hostile turned, fell down fast, then clawed along the ground. It was searching. My instincts flashed: weapons. Dangers perhaps stored and stashed for such an encounter. How long had the hostile had time to practice, knowing an opportunity would come to use firepower? My mind raced, my index finger graced my trigger. I felt my arm buckle then saw the gash centerfold in the door.

The blur screamed.