Page 4 of Hunted By the Wraiths
True. I should be. Would be, if not for spite and the stubborn refusal to let those bastards win.
Had warnings. Important words. Consortium kill squads, inbound. Imminent danger. Need to warn her. Get her out.
What came out, ripped past the pain: “I got better.”
Stupid. Flippant. Pain response talking. Still true, though.
She stared. Expression unreadable. Cry? Kill me? Possibly both. Fair reactions. Entirely fair.
“Maris— Danger—” The words felt like tearing something inside my throat. Grinding past the pain. “We’ve got to go.”
But we ran out of time. The cantina door exploded inward.
Vibration slammed through the deck plates a millisecond before the sound ripped through the cavern. Rock dust, pulverized laminate, and twisted plasteel shrapnel filled the air, thick and choking. The blast wave threw me sideways like a doll. Hit the floor, tucked, rolled – instinct, eight years of forcedcombat trials taking over. Came up on one knee behind an overturned table, weapon already in my hand. Scales hardened instantly, dull gray-green locking into a protective layer. Combat mode.
Seven hostiles. Counted them through the swirling dust. Four through the ruined doorway, moving low and fast. Three dropping like rock-mites on grav-chutes from ceiling maintenance vents I hadn’t spotted. Sloppy assessment. Get focused. Professional. Coordinated. The air filled instantly with the metallic tang of fresh adrenaline – theirs and mine – sharp from discharged weapons sizzling against damp rock walls. Consortium contractors. Military grade gear. Weapons up. Scanning. Acquiring targets.
Lead one—human, heavy augments gleaming on both arms—snapped his rifle up, targeting Maris.
No.
The bond screamed protect.
Pure, white-hot imperative. Overrode the agony. Didn’t think, just moved. Crossed the space between us in two strides. Grabbed the nearest ferrocrete table – heavy, meant to withstand bar fights, and hurled it end over end. Felt the satisfying crunch as it hit the lead shooter square in the chest. Armor buckled. He went down hard. I didn’t stop.
Grabbed Maris around the waist, felt the rigid tension in her body, the sudden intake of breath, smelled the sharp spike of her fear mixed with pure, familiar fury and pulled her bodily behind the thick plasteel bar plating just as plasma bolts stitched across the spot where she’d been standing, leaving sizzling scorch marks on the rock behind her.
“Stay down.” Voice a growl. Deep. Resonating in my chest. The bond pain was still there, a searing static under my scales, but combat adrenaline surged, a welcome chemical suppressor. Functional again. More than functional.
“The hell I will.” A blaster appeared in her hand, pulled from a concealed holster under the bar. Of course. “This is my cantina.”
Her remaining security guard returned fire. Good training. He’d found cover behind a thick support pillar, laying down suppression. Pinned the door team momentarily. But the ceiling team was already flanking, dropping silently to the floor on either side of the room.
Saw the angle. Saw their movement through the settling dust. Saw one of her people, a young woman, maybe twenty, pinned behind flimsy booth seating, directly in their line of fire.
I uncoiled, moving faster than he could track.
Hit the first ceiling attacker before he could bring his weapon to bear. Claws extended – not lethally, just enough for disabling grip through the armor joints. Felt armor weave tear, heard the gasp. Grabbed his pulse rifle as he went down and spun low.
Three rounds, center mass, into the second attacker. Impact threw him back against the rough cavern wall. The third got smart, used his grav-chute to ascend rapidly back into the ceiling vents. Rat. Coward.
Plasma fire snapped past my head from the door team. Felt the heat sear across my shoulder scales. Burned. Not deep. Ignored it. Young guard was down. Unconscious. Grabbed her by the back of her vest, threw her bodily behind better cover – an overturned ore cart near the back wall. Solid metal. She’d be safer there.
Maris was moving. Flanking the door team along the far wall, using the jutting rock formations and bolted-on prefab structures as cover. Smart. Always so damn smart. She’d designed this place defensively. Knew every shadow, every angle.
Always loved watching her work. Even now. Especially now.
Heard the sharp crack of her blaster. Twice. Two of the door team dropped. Clean shots. Center mass. No hesitation. That long time apart hadn’t dulled her edge. The other two scrambled for better cover behind the wreckage of the entrance. Augmented leader – the one I’d hit with the table – was getting back up, shaking his head. Consortium tech. He was getting up. Annoying.
He saw me, registered the threat. Saw Maris, flanking him. Made a new choice.
He went for her instead.
Wrong choice.
MARIS
The augmented merc crumpled at Thoryn’s feet, twitching once before going still against the ruined support column. Silence crashed down, broken only by the crackle of damaged lighting conduits and the ragged sound of my own breathing.
