Page 30 of Salvation for the Alien Mercenary
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Every sense sharpenedas he ran.
He could pick out individual smells… spilled fuel, burning circuitry, the metallic tang of blood. His hearing separated the sounds of panic around him, filtering through screams and footfalls to focus on the distinctive pulse of M'Suun energy weapons. Each burst felt like a countdown in his head.
The crowd scattered before him, civilian shoppers and merchants diving for cover. He shoved past those too slow to move, a detached part of his mind noting how easily they yielded to his strength.
Anson's footsteps pounded behind him, the B'Kaar cursing steadily in three different languages.
“Davis! Slow down, you lunatic!"
Davis ignored him. His legs pumped harder, muscles burning with unfamiliar power as he rounded the final corner into the docking bay commons.
Chaos. It was a full-blown firefight.
M'Suun warriors had Covak and Jesh pinned down behind a cargo loader. The massive Vorrtan had shifted into battle form, his crimson skin gleaming under the harsh bay lights, fangs bared in a snarl as he returned fire. Jesh moved with cybernetic precision, her shoulder-mounted weapons picking off targets with surgical accuracy.
But there was only one thought in his mind.
Find Mira.
His eyes swept the battlefield, cataloging positions, threats, escape routes. There… a flash of blonde hair behind a stack of shipping containers. She’d taken cover near the outer edge of the docking bay, her small frame hunched as she darted glances around the container's edge.
Alive. She was alive.
He exhaled, shoulders loosening even as his jaw set in cold determination.
"Six hostiles, northeast quadrant," he barked to Anson, who had finally caught up. "Covak and Jesh pinned down at your two o'clock."
Anson nodded, ke'lath lines beneath his skin pulsing as he assessed the tactical situation. "Ryke and Rann?"
"Don't see them. Might be closer to theDream." He drew his sidearm, checking the charge. "I'm going for Mira."
"Like hell?—"
He was moving before Anson could finish the protest, darting between cover points with a speed that should have been impossible. His body seemed to know exactly where to place each foot, how to balance his weight, when to drop and when to surge forward.
A M'Suun warrior spotted him, swinging a heavy energy rifle in his direction. Without thinking about it, Davis rolled beneath the shot, came up on one knee, and put two rounds through the attacker's faceplate. The M'Suun dropped, weapon discharging wildly as his fingers spasmed.
An errant energy bolt sizzled past Davis's shoulder, close enough that he felt the energy signature wash over him. Pain exploded through his system, like liquid fire racing along his nerves, and his vision whited out as he staggered, barely catching himself against a cargo container.
Fuck. Not again.
The agony was worse this time. More intense. More focused. Every cell in his body seemed to vibrate with it. His muscles seized, locking him in place as sweat beaded across his forehead. He ground his teeth together to keep from screaming.
"Target down! Moving to assist Tell!"
Anson's voice sounded distorted, as if reaching him underwater. Davis fought through the pain, forcing his eyes open. The world looked wrong. Colors too bright. Edges too sharp. Movement leaving trails across his vision.
A M'Suun warrior stood just fifteen meters away, aiming directly at him. The sleek weapon in his hands glowed with the same purple energy that had hit him at the concert venue. The warrior hesitated, head tilting in what seemed like confused recognition.
That moment of hesitation was all he needed.
The pain crystallized, transforming from agony to raw power that flooded his system. His muscles unlocked. Adrenaline washed through him. He launched forward, covering the distance to the M'Suun in a blur of motion.
The warrior didn't even have time to pull the trigger before Davis grabbed his weapon. Tearing it from his enemy’s grip, he smashed the stock across the M’Suun’s helmet with enough force to crack the reinforced material. The warrior dropped like a stone.
Two more warriors spun toward him, weapons raised. Davis dropped the damaged rifle, drew his combat knife, and moved. The blade felt like an extension of his arm as he slashed across an exposed section of the first attacker's armor. The second operative managed to fire… a glancing shot that scored across Davis's ribs.
