Philip Simpson - Tribulation

“No!” he cried. To have his mother back for a moment only to have her snatched away just as quickly. It was unbearable. He was sorely tempted to leap the desk and put his naked blade to Joshua’s neck, making him bring her back.

Clearly, Joshua saw Sam’s intent and forestalled an attack. “Don’t look so sad, Sam. You’ll have her back soon enough. Get the job done and you and your mom will have the rest of your lives to exchange pleasantries.”

Sam seethed with repressed anger and frustration but as Joshua talked, something his mother had said was starting to percolate through his conscious mind. Something that didn’t ring true. Words that had sounded off. His mother had encouraged him to kill his brother. But that was her other son she was talking about. What mother would possibly encourage that sort of thing? In a strange coincidence, it also echoed what Joshua wanted. His thoughts started to go down a path he really didn’t want to take…Also, the words of Samyaza came back to him. ‘Save the one who will save you.’ Doubts filled him. Had Samyaza even been talking about his mother? How could he save his mother when he wasn’t even sure that it had been her in the first place?

Before he could come to a decision, an alarm started braying loudly, demanding instant attention.

Joshua looked startled. Before he could react, the Captain and his soldiers burst back into the room without knocking. “What is it?” demanded Joshua.

“We’re under attack, Prophet,” declared the Captain. As he said this, Sam heard the unmistakable sound of gunfire from outside.

“From whom?”

“I don’t know, Prophet,” the Captain conceded. “We’ve been boarded by an armed force. In addition, an unknown ship is proceeding along the Hudson on an intercept course with the ships docked here.”

Joshua looked somewhat surprised by this news. By the looks of things, he’d certainly not been expecting an attack. If Sam hoped that Joshua would crumble under the pressure though, he was mistaken. His once friend was firmly in command. “Tell the Commander to start the engines and get us out of here. Alert the rest of the fleet.”

The Captain saluted smartly. “Yes, Prophet.”

He and his men turned to leave. At that exact instance, the ship rocked under a massive impact. It must have been a substantial strike to shake a ship of this size. Sam didn’t want to wait around to find out what was attacking them. That was Joshua’s problem. If he went down, Sam didn’t want to be around to suffer the same fate. And as for his mother — Sam wasn’t hopeful. Joshua had all but said that his powers were all about appearances. He strongly suspected that the image was just that — an image of his mother and not the real thing. He doubted whether Joshua would have the power to get his mother out of Hell. Besides, he didn’t trust Joshua for a second. He’d betrayed him before. Sam knew exactly what would happen to him if he got rid of his brother. Or refused or otherwise failed to do so. Joshua would contrive for Sam to have an ‘accident’, from which there would be return — from Hell or otherwise.

This ship was no longer a safe place to be. He needed to become the master of his own destiny again. To confront his brother on his terms. He needed to get out of here. Right now.

The ship shuddered again under another hammer blow. The Captain staggered. Two of his three men fell to the ground. Sam saw an opportunity. He darted towards the entrance. The last remaining soldier tried to stop him, bringing an arm up to block him. Sam may not have had his swords, but he certainly wasn’t defenseless. Hikari had ensured that Sam was well versed in both armed and unarmed combat — not that he’d had to resort to unarmed combat much these days. His martial skills were easily equivalent to a black belt in both Karate and Aikido with some Judo mixed in for good measure.

He blocked the soldier’s arm with the outside of his own, bringing them shoulder to shoulder. Using his own momentum, his arm simply came down around the neck of the other man. He swung his other arm around, pivoting as easily as a dancer, forcing the soldier’s head down and placing his hand around his opponent’s throat. Predictably, the man tried to rise. Sam let him, allowing his own over-compensation to force him backwards. Sam tripped him, ensuring that one of his legs were right behind him as he toppled. As he fell to the ground, Sam struck him a blow with the knife edge of his hand, straight in the throat. The man hit the ground and didn’t move again.

The whole combat had lasted approximately two seconds.

Sam darted a glance around the room as he made for the door. The other soldiers were still getting to their feet, pulling handguns from their holsters. Joshua had disappeared.

Sam paid them no heed, reaching the door and darting out into the corridor just as shots starting ringing out from behind him. He raced along the corridor, retracing the path the soldiers had used bringing him here. Other soldiers tried to stop him. He disarmed and disabled them as easily as the first, hardly slowing.

He sensed the group of humans before he saw them, not bothering to examine them too closely. They were just obstacles to overcome, seemingly lying in wait for him at the exit leading to the deck and the helicopter platform. It was the only exit that he knew of. He certainly wasn’t prepared to try and find another one when the ship was under attack. Just then, the ship rocked under another impact. This time, Sam thought he heard what appeared to be engine noises. What was that? Fighter jets?

He steeled himself as he rounded the corner, catching sight of the squad of soldiers blocking his way for the first time. Two were crouching in the corridor, their automatics leveled at him. Three others stood behind, also armed. Something seemed different about their uniforms but he didn’t give it a second thought. He had to get off this ship and they were in his way. He prepared himself to slow time just as the soldiers began shooting in his direction, already knowing that he was too late. The corridor was narrow and his only recourse was to get as low as possible, expecting to be hit by bullets at any time. This could be bad, he thought, sensing that these soldiers were also armed with iron.

He heard a cry from behind and turned. Some other soldiers were lying in pools of spreading blood. It was only then that he realized that the soldiers in front of him were wearing different outfits. That they hadn’t been shooting at him. Only then did he finally recognize one of the minds amongst them.

As he closed the gap between himself and this new group of soldiers, the smallest one amongst them threw a long cloth-wrapped package at him. He caught it smoothly and unwrapped it. His swords. Finally, he was reunited with his beloved swords. Suddenly, he felt whole again.

He nodded at the figure. “Thanks, Grace.”

“Figured I owed you after what went down with the Resistance.” She indicated the exit. “Let’s get out of here before it really hits the fan.”

She led the way out onto the platform. The helicopter was now just burning wreckage. There was a deafening roar above them and Sam glanced upwards. A jet tore past, just over the conning tower of the ship. The ship shuddered again.

“Whose is that?” he shouted.

“Ours, I think,” Grace responded, jogging beside him. “Not entirely sure but I’m taking it as a good sign that it’s attacking this ship.”

The ship jolted again repeatedly. In the sky above, the jet suddenly spewed smoke and swerved out of sight, hit by return fire from the Battlecruiser.

The action brought the ship to life. Suddenly, enemy soldiers started to swarm onto the deck. Grace and the rest of her squad mowed them down with machine-gun fire. Any who got too close, Sam chopped down with his blades.