Lang didn't say a word, but he did follow the command. Screams rang out from up ahead, and they stopped for just a moment. More crewmembers were rushing towards them and clearly being chased.
"How many Mechs did you have aboard?" asked Jones.
The Sergeant shrugged. It was presumably information beyond his pay grade.
"Must be hundreds of them," said Silva, who had worked his way up to the front.
How can anyone have ever thought this was a good idea? Jones asked himself, shaking his head.
The fleeing crewmembers reached them but made no attempt to stop. They barrelled past the troops.
"Where are they heading?"
"Same place we should be, Colonel, the lifeboats."
It was a tempting proposition, but he wasn't going to leave Taylor and the rest of the Inter-Allied behind. He prayed they were still alive, but he already knew Mitch would be at least. Lang went to move forward, but Jones grabbed his arm.
"Where are you going?"
"The bridge?"
"Who do you think those crew were running from? Take up position, and be ready to fire."
The Sergeant looked sheepish, but he looked back and gave the signal to his section. The corridor went silent for a moment as they lined the corridor, taking what little cover from the support beams they could. Jones' people used their shields for extra cover. A moment later they heard the heavy footsteps of Mechs stomping towards them. It was an obnoxious noise that still sent shivers down Jones' spine, but he’d learnt to bear it long ago.
"Ready?"
The Sergeant looked terrified, to the extent Jones wondered if he had ever fired his weapon in anger. He knew the answer was probably no.
"When you see them, you remember they’re the ones who are killing your comrades, you hear?" he whispered to Lang.
The Sergeant nodded and flicked the safety off his weapon.
Christ! He still had it on, Jones thought.
A second later two Mechs stepped into view with their weapons at the ready. They were completely unaware of the gun line they were running into and had no time to respond. Dozens of shots rang out and riddled the creatures until they dropped down stone dead.
As they hit the deck, more stepped past them, their weapons firing. It was the same relentless advance they had gotten so used to seeing from the alien soldiers. Jones felt a heavy impact be absorbed by his shield, and several other shots smashed the bulkhead around them, but to little effect. Just five Mechs passed over the bodies of the first two and were cut down almost as quickly by the volley of automatic fire. Jones could see a look of almost surprise in Lang's face as the corridor fell silent.
"Come on!" he yelled, as he moved forward, expecting the Sergeant to guide him. When they reached the Mechs, he noticed a slight movement in one and fired a three-shot burst into the creature without breaking stride. Lang almost fell over in surprise as the weapon discharged, but Jones pulled him along, in order to have no further time wasted.
"Elevators are out, so we'll have to take the stairs," said Lang.
"Lead the way."
The Sergeant wanted nothing more than to drop back and let someone else do so, but Jones was adamant he should be at the front. Lang took ten steps, then stopped and looked back at Jones, as if asking ‘how much further do I have to do this?’ But Jones simply nodded and gestured for him to carry on. They got to the entrance to the next floor. There was no sign of life, just a few screams of either agony or panic in the distance.
"We can't help them," Jones said.
He knew he was asking the Sergeant to leave his people when he wasn't willing to do the same, but the Sergeant complied anyway.
As they turned onto the next stairs, they came to an abrupt halt. They saw a figure on the stairs above them. They quickly raised their weapons ready to shoot, but soon realised it was a marine cowering against the wall. Jones lowered his weapon and stepped up cautiously to the man. He looked terrified and couldn't even bring himself to raise his weapon, simply remaining frozen and sitting on the steps. Jones couldn't see any visible sign of injury.
"You okay, marine?"
He got no response, so he slapped the man's helmet firmly. Life suddenly returned to the man's eyes, and all his attention was turned on Jones.
"You hurt?"
He shook his head.
"Then get your arse up and get in this fight," Jones spoke to him sternly.
He grabbed the marine and hauled him to his feet.
"We're fighting our way off this boat. You want to join us, or stay down there and die?"
His nametag read 'Fuchs', but Taylor could see no sign of rank. He couldn't be older than twenty and had a boyish face that had never known war.
"Fuchs?" Jones asked.
The marine looked down at his uniform and looked confused, but then turned to Lang who he seemed to recognise.
"It's okay, Private. They're with us."
Jones grabbed Fuch's helmet and pulled him round, forcing him to look right at him.
"No time for buggering about, Private. There's a war to fight, and you're slap bang in the middle of it. Now fall in and get to work."
He nodded in response and appeared to right his back, holding himself a little taller and with some pride. Jones could see he had just witnessed the horrors of war he himself had grown all too familiar with, and all he needed were some friends at his side.
"You gonna fall in, Private?" Jones asked.
Confidence returned to his eyes, and he stepped past Jones to take up position with the Sergeant. He looked back to see Silva pointing at his watch.
"How far are we from the bridge?" Jones asked Lang.
"Not far."
That's a big help, he thought, as he pointed for the Sergeant to go on. They carried on cautiously up the last few steps. The sound of the gunfire grew louder.
"It's Taylor, has to be," he muttered.
"Taylor? You're Taylor," replied Lang.
Busted!
"No, I'm not Taylor. The name’s Jones, but as far as you're concerned, I might as well be Taylor, who is in there right now and needs our help, you got that?"
He agreed without any hesitation, seeing the unforgiving look in Jones' eyes. Jones didn't need a guide anymore, for he just had to follow the sound of gunfire. He took the last few steps and got out into the corridor. Just as he did, two Mechs rushed into view at a junction up ahead. He fired a snap shot before they disappeared from view. It hit a creature, forcing it to stop and turn quickly to face him, but in doing so presented a perfect target.
Jones quickly raised the weapon for a better aim and fired a burst. Fuchs and Silva quickly joined his side. The creature got off just a single shot that hit the ceiling before it collapsed as a smouldering pile of metal on the deck. The second Mech turned the corner to come back at them, and Jones barely got his shield up in time to take one of the hits and step aside for cover with the others.
Without a word, he pulled a grenade from his waist and armed it. As he launched it, the creature paced out to get them in its sights. Jones dropped to one knee and took shelter behind his shield. It took three shots before the grenade ignited between the feet of the Mech. Chunks of metal were launched across the room, and two large shards of shrapnel impeded in his shield which was now already buckled and weakened in several places.
Silva was up and past before he was on his feet, rushing for the sound of the battle going on just around the corner. As he reached the site of the grenade blast, he opened fire on full auto. Jones took the bend to find seven Mechs with their backs to them, trying to get their way through the open door of the bridge.