“We can throttle them here,” Jackin called out, voice raised over the unending din of fire. “They’ll get impatient and come to us.”
As if on cue, the Drudgers’ firing ceased. Jackin raised his bloodied knife and angled toward the door frame. Cavalon swallowed hard and slid back, bumping into the cold metal of the airlock door he’d detached earlier, still leaning against the wall behind him. He tightened his sweaty grip on the hilt of his knife.
A clank sounded and something bounced off the wall behind them, landing at Jackin’s feet. Cavalon froze, staring down at the small metal object, its escalating, high-pitched squeal cutting through the temporary silence.
Jackin tried to kick the grenade back out at the Drudgers, but it’d already clawed its little needled feet into the floor, and stopped Jackin’s boot in its track.
The taste of copper filled Cavalon’s mouth before he even registered that he had an idea. He grabbed the detached airlock door, angling it to soak up the relentless plasma bolts as he crossed the open threshold.
“Move!” he shouted, and Jackin dove to the side as Cavalon felled the door atop the squealing grenade. He dropped onto it, pressing into the metal as hard as he could, his Imprints humming as they fueled his strength. With a hollow, chalky crack, the door popped up a half meter. As it landed back on the ground, his elbows gave way, and he collapsed face-first into the cold metal. Dark smoke billowed from the edges and a bitter metallic smell lingered in the air.
Plasma bolts peppered the hatch wall in front of Cavalon’s face. Jackin grabbed him by the back of the vest and pulled him up against the wall, farther from the unending deluge.
“Void, Oculus,” Jackin cursed, gritting his teeth. Cavalon gulped, certain he was about to get yelled at, but Jackin remained silent as he stood, black brows high, panting breaths suddenly loud in the silence.
Cavalon’s heart kicked. Why was it silent?
“Shit—use the door to block it!” Jackin shouted. He passed his own knife into his other hand, then yanked Cavalon’s from his trembling grip.
Cavalon opened his mouth to ask “Block what?” but the simultaneous pounding of four sets of Drudger boots clanging down the hall answered it for him.
Cavalon’s eyes darted to the felled door, kinked at the center from the explosion. His mind said no fucking way, but his head nodded yes and his hands grabbed the bent metal up off the ground. He shoved it in front of the empty threshold and the metal clanged as bolts pinged it. He pressed his back against it and Jackin jammed his shoulder up to help brace it.
The door slammed against the back of Cavalon’s head as the Drudgers crashed into it. He pressed against the onslaught with as much strength as he could muster, feet planted, legs bent. His Imprints spread themselves thin to accommodate the grueling request.
The Drudgers growled and spat, their taloned fingers clawing their way through the gaps around the edge. Cavalon held his breath as a waft of putrid, earthy BO assaulted his nostrils. With a knife still gripped in each hand, Jackin braced his arms on either side of Cavalon. Despite the optio’s aid, the hard metal rammed his back again and again. He gritted his teeth and endured it.
Rake’s words “You’ll be fine” rang through his head and he half snickered, half growled. Jackin shot him a disdainful look, his light brown skin flushed crimson as he pressed into the door, though the man’s efforts were feeble compared to Cavalon’s Imprint-assisted fervor.
Jackin’s scowl vanished as a decidedly human roar thundered from the other side of the door. The pounding stopped and the pressure ceased. Cavalon glanced over his shoulder and through the small window in the door-shield behind him.
In the other room, Warner punted a Drudger square in the chest and sent it crashing into the wall. Warp core in one hand, knife in the other, Emery kicked it in the jaw as it hit the ground, then thrust her blade into its exposed throat. Warner stabbed his knife between the segmented plating on its chest, and it fell still.