Timothy sized up his options. The Tyranid would eventually get through the door. Then an important shield in the event of artillery fire or even orbital bombardment would be useless and immediately be fatal.
Therefore the monster must be confronted.
He knew that the fate of this world and many others now rested on his demur shoulders so he gave the command –
“Open the door.”
For a brief moment, they were hesitant to comply.
But that changed once I activated the wheelchair’s weapons systems.
The people crowded to the rear of the large cavernous room.
The banging stopped as the door slowly opened and then the Tyranid slithered in once it was able to, its stench engulfing the room.
The six-legged monster prepared to pounce.
Timothy bobbled back and forth as his heavy machine guns fired.
Blood splattered from the Tyranid and it darted from left to right.
Timothy turned with the creature mowing down many of the civilians and many of the computers in the process.
But the creature was spent, many of its limbs now blown off as it curled up and died.
Timothy stopped firing and ordered the door closed once more.
One of the survivors limped to do so.
“Did the Tyranid injure any of you?”
Two women hobbled forward, their legs lacerated.
“Shoot them.”
One of the officers shot them on the spot before they could even plead for their lives. No chances could be taken.
Timothy went to a control panel that was still functional. The planet’s forces were in the ascendancy.
Mark's Writing Corner 