Free Blackjack Wayward (The Blackjack Series) by Ben Bequer Page B

burning remnants of the Vershani aft castle. My arrival was like a crash atop the white, marble-like material, leaving a thirty-foot indentation of shattered deck. Bodies of our enemies lay all about me in various states of dismemberment or burning, but there was no visible opposition on the top deck, nor on the main deck below, though much was obscured by fallen sheets, crumpled masts, and crashed debris.
    I looked back at my crew beginning to scamper over the large gap between the railing on the bow of the Lady’s Nightmare, and the edge of the damage aft castle remnants. I grabbed a few of the grapple ropes, put my foot on a bulkhead edge and heaved, pulling the bow of our ship just a few feet closer, so that our crew could just jump down onto the damaged deck of the Vershani ship. With that, they were a wave of bodies, a throng of raging aliens looking for something to kill, eat, or fuck.
    They rushed past me with abandon, taking the stairs down to the main deck, jumping down over the railing, or even climbing up the damaged rigging to find enemies. Zann landed next to me, his eyes wide with awe, and slapped my shoulder, leading me to the railing that overlooked the empty quarterdeck below. Even now, our men were swarming into the hold through the stairs below us and across the deck to the forecastle, where the last vestiges of crew were likely to be.
    A brawny arm grabbed me and hurled me down as someone shouted “Cover!” and a hundred long rifles barked from the forecastle, ripping into our men and the remaining woodwork of the aft castle. Blood fountained from chests and men doubled over, stitched from head to toe with lead as the volley of guns took a heavy toll. Peering through a gap in the railing, I could see a dozen dead or injured men, the quarterdeck awash with blood.
    Across the quarterdeck from our position, the Vershani soldiers rose and let loose a second volley on us.

    More men collapsed, and by now chaos had turned to a smoke-filled, blood-strewn disaster. I was surrounded by our screaming, panicked crew, diving for cover, begging for mercy, and slowly dying. Zann was hit, though judging from how fast he had healed from our fight, he would probably survive the gaping, bloody chest wound. Darmelia was down, though she insisted she was fine and almost shot me when I tried to check her injury. Skeetrix bled from a mangled left paw, ebbing pinkish blood, but he seemed unaffected otherwise. I’d been hit several times, but fortunately, the Vershani weapons were no match for my tough skin. It hurt like hell, though. Worse than all that, we were pinned, unable to return fire, and our enemies seemed to have an unlimited supply of ammunition. Some were taking advantage of our situation and climbing the damaged rigging, finding vantage points to get better angles on us.
    “This is bad,” Morloki said, using my bulk as cover. His armor was dinged, and a trickle of blood flowed from his cheek.
    “Maybe we can make it back to our ship,” Brutalis said, “We can use the bow chasers.”
    I looked back at the bow of Lady’s Nightmare, jutting into the rear of the Vershani ship, riding high behind us; the bowsprit mast soared overhead, entangled into the other ship’s rigging. The railing where we had stood not two minutes ago was behind us, across a twenty-foot dead man’s land and thirty feet up, a climb that would provide target practice to the Vershani sharpshooters.
    “I’ll give them something to worry about,” I said and jumped over the railing down to the quarterdeck into a hail of lead.
    Having a huge soaring target, the Vershani keyed on me. Their marksmanship was cruel and exact. Dozens of shells slammed against my body, shredding my clothing, but I wasn’t in any immediate danger. After the first volley erupted, a cloud of noxious smoke billowed across the deck, obscuring me from their murderous fusillade.
    Taking turns to shoot at me, the Vershani would pop up and fire while others reloaded,