Page 83 of Salvation for the Alien Mercenary
Relief hit her in a wave that weakened her knees.
He stood with his back to them, weapon raised, covering the junction ahead.
"Three incoming," he said without turning, his voice deeper than she remembered. "Ten seconds."
"We need to get to the north exit," Anson replied.
Davis glanced back, his eyes meeting hers. The gold had almost completely overtaken the blue… alien eyes in a still-human face.
"Stay behind me," he told her.
"I can handle myself." She raised her weapon and waggled it.
Shapes appeared at the far end of the corridor, and she caught her breath. M'Suun. Their rifles swept the area in practiced arcs, moving as silently as ghosts.
Davis fired first, dropping the lead attacker. The corridor erupted into chaos as battle was joined. Anson fired a covering barrage while shoving K’ell toward a side passage. She ducked behind a support column, weapon ready.
"Gap on your left," she shouted to Davis.
He pivoted to fire at a M'Suun emerging from a side passage, and the battle was on in earnest. Feeling like her eyes were on stalks, she moved with Davis and Anson as they worked their way through the corridors, eliminating the M'Suun.
"Production floor is crawling with hostiles," Ryke said in her ear. "Change of plans. Everyone head for the north exit. Move now."
"Bit late to the party, boss," Anson chuckled. "We're already on our way there."
They pushed through to an assembly area where the massive manufacturing lines offered cover. Covak and Jesh were already there, fending off M'Suun troops pouring in from three entrances. Workers fled in panic, some caught in the crossfire and going down. She tried to ignore the way they jerked and the spray of blood, but she knew she'd have nightmares about it for years.
Ryke and Rann joined them, taking cover behind an industrial press. A blast rocked the catwalk above, sending debris showering across the floor. Anson staggered, blood streaming from a gash where shrapnel had caught him.
"They're using thermal charges," Jesh shouted, returning fire. "Attempting to flush us out."
Davis was crouched under a conveyor belt. "How many?"
"Twelve active signatures," Jesh replied. "More approaching from the west."
Mira tucked herself in behind Davis and studied the battlefield. They were outnumbered, outgunned, and with dwindling options. Even with the Reapers' combat experience, these weren't winning odds.
"Can anyone raise Jex?" Ryke shouted over the gunfire. "We need extraction!"
"Comms are jammed," Anson called back, hiske'lathflaring for a second. "Can't get a signal out."
She glanced up at Davis. He fired with mechanical precision, each shot finding its target, but his movements were off. They were jerkier, less controlled. The muscles in his neck strained as if he were fighting against himself. When he turned, she saw his pupils had contracted to vertical slits… fully Latharian now.
She bit her lip. The transformation was accelerating under stress.
Another explosion rocked the assembly area, closer this time. The lights flickered, plunging them into darkness for three terrifying seconds before emergency power kicked in with a low electronic hum.
"We need to move now!" Ryke yelled as debris rained down around him. "We're about to be overrun!"
They needed an advantage, something unexpected. A flanking maneuver, reinforcements, something… anything to change the dynamics of the fight.
Spot.
She gasped and patted her pocket. Shit,yes.Spot was still on the ship with Jex. The neural interface might work. Yanking it out, she looked at it. Would it even work at this distance?
A round impacted inches from her position, showering her with fragments of metal and hot sparks. They were out of time.
"Cover me," she told Davis, ducking lower as another volley of fire swept overhead.
