The Martians

PERSEUS MANGAL-GRAH

77%... 78%.

"Come on, come on," Perseus mutters to the computer, his voice tense with urgency as he watches the file upload slowly to the drive plugged into the computer. The file contains crucial information, that would ensure a chance for survival of the martians remains.

Outside the room, there's a loud, relentless banging, the sound of fishs against metal, echoing like the drumbeat of an approaching doom. The door is beginning to cave under the assault, its frame buckling with each hit.

Perseus glances at the door, his eyes narrowing at the sight of the metal warping. He clicks his tongue in frustration and looks back to the screen.

80%.

"Damn it!" he curses, slamming his fist onto the table. The metal table bends under the force of his strike, leaving a fist sized dent and making the computer almost fall off.

A voice from behind him breaks through his irritation, "You're going to destroy the computer before those abominable creatures have a chance to do it if you keep banging the table like that."

Perseus turns to see his daughter, Athena, lounging lazily on a sofa in the corner of the room, casually tossing a ball into the air and catching it. He's unnerved by her calm demeanor; there are several K'tharr forcing their way into the room at this very moment, and she doesn't look bothered in the slightest. Her composure is that of a seasoned war veteran, not of a 17-year-old.

No matter how much of a fighting genius she is, he thinks to himself, she scares him sometimes. But she is the future of Mars, completely embodying what it means to be Martian to the very core. With her and Ares, Mars has a chance to survive, and the file he's uploading will be their guiding light.

He looks back at the computer. 83%. He sighs.

The banging grows louder, each strike resonating like thunder, shaking the very walls. It's clear now that just a few more hits and the door will be utterly destroyed.

Athena speaks up again, stating matter-of-factly, "Father, they'll break through in 7 more bangs. What do you want to do?"

Bang.

Perseus clicks his tongue in frustration. He needs to keep his thumb on senser on the computer for the files to finish uploading; he can't fight and manage that task simultaneously. He knows what he has to do, even if he doesn't like it.

Bang.

He remembers his wife, Elysia, and the promise he made to keep their children out of danger. But he's already broken that promise once when he ordered Ares to clear the path for Elysia and their younger siblings. And now, he's about to break it again. Bowing his head, he mutters under his breath, "Elysia, forgive me."

Bang

Turning back to Athena, he shouts, "Cadet Athena!"

Athena immediately stands and salutes, knowing he's addressing her in this moment as her instructor, and not her father.

"Yes, sir," she responds crisply, her salute sharp and professional.

Bang.

Perseus studies her for a moment, then nods with a heavy heart. "Buy me time," he commands.

A maniacal smile spreads across Athena's face as she turns to face the door, now on the verge of breaking.

Bang.

Perseus shivers, his voice barely audible as he mutters, "Poor K'tharrs."

Bang.

Perseus watches as Athena removes her guns from their holsters, her movements fluid and practiced. She charges up the weapons, her pose remaining relaxed, almost as if she's inviting the K'tharr to come at her.

Bang.

The door gives way, fragments of metal and debris flying into the room. The first two K'tharr to enter are immediately felled, slumping to the ground as energy blasts pierce straight through the middle of their foreheads.

Perseus thinks, as he has many times before, that he's never not amazed by her aim. In all of the academy's history, Athena boasts the best aim of any cadet ever, with a hundred percent record; no one else has achieved such perfection.

A third K'tharr lunges at her, its clawed hand reaching out for her throat. With precision, she blows its hand off, the creature's mouth opening in a pained shriek.

Without missing a beat, Athena shoves one of her guns into its gaping maw, her voice cold and steady as she says, "Too noisy," before pulling the trigger, obliterating the creature's head into a splatter of brain matter and bones.

More K'tharr come, drawn by the scent of blood and the promise of prey, but none manage to get past Athena.

She moves with a deadly grace, each shot, each movement, a testament to her skill. Perseus thinks she's got it under control and decides to focus on the computer, watching the percentage climb to 93%. He mutters to himself, "Come on, come on."

But then, a sound slices through his concentration, a sound that sends a cold dread down his spine—the unmistakable whine of a dying charge on a gun. He whirls his head around, his eyes catching the sight of Athena's guns sputtering as she aims them at another charging K'tharr. His heart sinks.

Fuck.

With urgency, Perseus removes his gun from his holster and throws it towards Athena. However, the K'tharr, with its elongated, agile arms, snatches the gun out of the air before it reaches her, its jaw clamping down with a sickening crunch, breaking the weapon into pieces.

The K'tharr, now focuses on the weaponess Athena, swings a punch at her. Perseus screams, "Dodge!"

But instead of evading, Athena takes the hit head-on, using her arms to block the blow. The sheer force of the impact sends her flying backward, crashing into the wall with a thud that echoes through the room.

Perseus screams her name, "Athena!"

The K'tharr that struck Athena hisses in triumph, a sound of victory that reverberates in the confined space.

As if summoned by this display of dominance, more K'tharr pour through the broken doorway, their grotesque forms clambering over one another in their eagerness to join the fray.