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Authors: Luke Romyn
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the hydra. At the last moment four of the beast's nine heads shot forward with amazing alacrity, each mouth snatching a single torpedo.
"Quick! Disarm them. Now !" shouted Captain Benedict, causing Talbot to jump slightly.
The weapons operators hesitated and looked to their commander for confirmation, but it was too late. Each of the four heads exploded silently on the screen, the concussive blast simultaneously rocking the Typhoon's hull with its force.
"Damn!"
At first, Talbot couldn't understand why Captain Benedict was so upset, but as he watched the screen, understanding blossomed.
Where each of the four heads of the hydra had been severed, two new heads sprouted, rapidly growing to full size. Where there had been nine heads before, now they were facing thirteen.
Viewing the eerily silent scene outside the ship, Talbot remembered an ancient story. The hydra had been chosen as one of Hercules's labors. He had set out to destroy the beast, only to discover what they had just unveiled. For every head severed, two would grow to replace it. Hercules had succeeded by cauterizing each wound with a flaming torch before the new heads could emerge.
If only Talbot could somehow replicate such a feat.
He called out to the Russian commander, "What is the hottest burning weapon you have?"
The Commander pondered the question. "We have some prototype phosphorous mines on board."
"Fire them," said Talbot urgently, hearing the hull creaking once more. The tremendous pressure of the hydra's constricting body seemed to be increasing. "Or release them. Whatever it is you do with mines."
The ship's commander glanced at Captain Benedict who nodded slightly. He then relayed the order to the weapons crew.
Six innocuous-looking spheres emerged from the torpedo tubes and began floating slowly toward the surface. Six of the hydra's thirteen heads swept through the murky water, once more snatching the weapons before they had a chance to harm its body -
Just as Talbot had hoped.
The phosphorous mines exploded, flaring so brightly it seemed they had blown out the external camera. Slowly the static cleared and the screen returned to normal, every crewmember straining to see the result.
Six tattered and burned necks flailed through the ocean, their exposed skin sealed completely by the intense heat of the scorching phosphorous. The remaining seven heads thrashed wildly, and the serpentine body appeared to loosen its grip.
Shrugging itself free of the Typhoon, the hydra whipped its body in a shuddering wave of distress. As it fled, it emitted torrents of an inky substance from its remaining mouths. The viscous liquid swiftly enveloped the starboard side of the hull. Talbot watched in mute horror as the thick, dark solution begin to corrode the exterior armor of the Typhoon.
"T-that's not possible!" stammered the commander, his composure cracking for the first time.
"Get us out of here!" yelled Captain Benedict.
This time, the crew didn't hesitate. The vessel powered up and began to thrust away from the Hydra, but not fast enough. The hydra shot back through the water faster than Talbot could have imagined, opening its numerous jaws wide. Yet nothing seemed to emerge from the beast's seven mouths.
And then it hit them.
A concussive shock tossed the entire Typhoon end over end through the water. The interior flipped and turned as crewmembers were thrown from their positions against the ceiling, and then the floor, over and over.
Talbot cracked his head against a console, and everything vanished.
***
Chuck Benedict peeled himself from the floor of the command bridge and glanced around. Considering what had just happened, there was very little damage to be seen. A few consoles had been impacted by flailing bodies, and blood splattered across the floor in several places, but otherwise the bridge appeared fully functional.
Apart from tilting at a forty-five-degree angle, that is.
He crawled over to where Talbot lay unconscious and
"Quick! Disarm them. Now !" shouted Captain Benedict, causing Talbot to jump slightly.
The weapons operators hesitated and looked to their commander for confirmation, but it was too late. Each of the four heads exploded silently on the screen, the concussive blast simultaneously rocking the Typhoon's hull with its force.
"Damn!"
At first, Talbot couldn't understand why Captain Benedict was so upset, but as he watched the screen, understanding blossomed.
Where each of the four heads of the hydra had been severed, two new heads sprouted, rapidly growing to full size. Where there had been nine heads before, now they were facing thirteen.
Viewing the eerily silent scene outside the ship, Talbot remembered an ancient story. The hydra had been chosen as one of Hercules's labors. He had set out to destroy the beast, only to discover what they had just unveiled. For every head severed, two would grow to replace it. Hercules had succeeded by cauterizing each wound with a flaming torch before the new heads could emerge.
If only Talbot could somehow replicate such a feat.
He called out to the Russian commander, "What is the hottest burning weapon you have?"
The Commander pondered the question. "We have some prototype phosphorous mines on board."
"Fire them," said Talbot urgently, hearing the hull creaking once more. The tremendous pressure of the hydra's constricting body seemed to be increasing. "Or release them. Whatever it is you do with mines."
The ship's commander glanced at Captain Benedict who nodded slightly. He then relayed the order to the weapons crew.
Six innocuous-looking spheres emerged from the torpedo tubes and began floating slowly toward the surface. Six of the hydra's thirteen heads swept through the murky water, once more snatching the weapons before they had a chance to harm its body -
Just as Talbot had hoped.
The phosphorous mines exploded, flaring so brightly it seemed they had blown out the external camera. Slowly the static cleared and the screen returned to normal, every crewmember straining to see the result.
Six tattered and burned necks flailed through the ocean, their exposed skin sealed completely by the intense heat of the scorching phosphorous. The remaining seven heads thrashed wildly, and the serpentine body appeared to loosen its grip.
Shrugging itself free of the Typhoon, the hydra whipped its body in a shuddering wave of distress. As it fled, it emitted torrents of an inky substance from its remaining mouths. The viscous liquid swiftly enveloped the starboard side of the hull. Talbot watched in mute horror as the thick, dark solution begin to corrode the exterior armor of the Typhoon.
"T-that's not possible!" stammered the commander, his composure cracking for the first time.
"Get us out of here!" yelled Captain Benedict.
This time, the crew didn't hesitate. The vessel powered up and began to thrust away from the Hydra, but not fast enough. The hydra shot back through the water faster than Talbot could have imagined, opening its numerous jaws wide. Yet nothing seemed to emerge from the beast's seven mouths.
And then it hit them.
A concussive shock tossed the entire Typhoon end over end through the water. The interior flipped and turned as crewmembers were thrown from their positions against the ceiling, and then the floor, over and over.
Talbot cracked his head against a console, and everything vanished.
***
Chuck Benedict peeled himself from the floor of the command bridge and glanced around. Considering what had just happened, there was very little damage to be seen. A few consoles had been impacted by flailing bodies, and blood splattered across the floor in several places, but otherwise the bridge appeared fully functional.
Apart from tilting at a forty-five-degree angle, that is.
He crawled over to where Talbot lay unconscious and
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