Flame Wind

by Tim Niederriter

  Boskem raised his pistol one-handed.

  “Be ready. We’re about to have company.” The Finder glowered at Yajain and the cablers like a character ripped from an action capture.

  The part of Yajain not running on the vestiges of her adrenaline wanted to roll her eyes. Instead, she tensed and wished she had her vare blade, a coil pistol, anything to defend herself better than arms and legs and lifts.

  “What happened to trying not to kill anyone?” Yajain said.

  Boskem’s eyes flicked toward her.

  “They’ll be armed.” He looked up. “Koslel, how’s that door?”

  “Almost done, sir,” answered the female cabler.

  Yajain tuned the hunter’s ear, listening for movement. A hiss and click sounded through the reverberations of the ship’s repulsors somewhere further toward the helm. A door unsealed and then slid open. Yajain turned down the hall in the direction of the sound.

  “That way,” she said and pointed. “They’re coming.”

  The cablers set up on either side of the corridor. Most faced the way Yajain had pointed, while Koslel worked on the door. Yajain flattened herself against one wall and crouched down. The case of the medical kit on her belt clinked against the bulkhead. She inhaled sharply.

  Ija’s troops opened fire. A bolt of flickering white hot coil fluid slashed across one of the cablers opposite Yajain. He fell. In seconds the corridor sizzled with shots, flared with lights, and rang with screams.

  Boskem squeezed to the bulkhead near Yajain, firing his pistol from the hand she once reset for him. He shouted unintelligibly in between shots. Flesh burnt black and noxious-smelling as another cabler fell near Yajain. Boskem backed into Yajain with one leg.

  “Doctor, help our wounded, damn it.”

  The weapons’ fire diminished with casualties on both sides. Yajain stayed crouched, but unhooked the medical kit and reached for the nearest fallen cabler. He convulsed with pain. She checked his vitals and found him overheated and in shock.

  Yajain pressed the anesthetic applicator to his neck. The cabler’s convulsions eased. Yajain used the sprayer to clean off the sticky fluid burns on his arms and chest. She checked for a cold press for his head to prevent brain damage from overheat. There was only one left after she had given the other to Akon during the retrieval mission.

  She grimaced, applied the press, and hoped she would not need another.

  Ogidar stepped into the center of the corridor. He scanned either direction through the sights on his coil rifle.

  “Looks like they pulled back.”

  Koslel cut the door open with a hiss of melted metal.

  “That’s one down,” she said.

  “But if there are many more we’re in trouble,” said Yajain as she treated the second fallen cabler. His pulse was very weak and looked to be failing.

  Boskem grunted.

  “When I want your opinion I’ll ask for it, doctor. Can we move the wounded yet?”

  Yajain pulled a regulator from the medical kit and jolted the cabler’s heart. His pulse stabilized, though still worryingly low. “Now we can,” she said.

  Mist crept through the corridor from the hole they’d torn in the far end. Yajain’s mask stayed mostly clear, but moisture clawed at the edges. Two unhurt cablers took the wounded on their backs. The group climbed to the next level using lifts. The door on the higher level moved to seal above them as they entered. Boskem fused it shut with a lance of coil fluid from his pistol.

  The boarding team flew through the jammed-open security door into the central corridor.

  “This ship is warrior class,” Boskem said. “That means this level should have bridge access.”

  “You think that’s where the target will be?” Yajain asked.

  “It’s our best chance for finding it.” Boskem started down the corridor. “This way.”

  The rest of the team followed. Cablers scanned cross-passages with their rifles. Yajain kept as low and alert as possible. They reached the doors to the bridge, hindered by an intervening security door that Ogidar and another cabler forced open quickly.

  A few meters further ahead the doors to the bridge were sealed. Koslel set to work rigging breaching charges. Then she turned to Boskem and shook her head.

  “Not gonna be easy to rig properly,” she said. “We need some more time.”

  “So much for a quick operation,” Boskem said. He crouched beside one wall. He hissed commands into his headset, barely audible to Yajain even with her hunter’s ears. “Send it in. Right. You have your instructions, Tei-Officer.”

  He turned to Koslel.

  “Don’t do anything. Everyone, stand away from the doors and be on guard.”

  Yajain frowned but didn’t have to move far to reach Boskem’s designated safe distance. What is Tei-Officer Sogun sending in? She glanced at Ogidar. He shifted his rifle to look along the passage the way they had come. A heavy impact echoed on the ship. Are they shooting? That would mean the explorer and the Ditari ships are shooting back.

  Boskem crouched and slipped on a control visor with the logo of Clan Company Montragear stamped on one side. Yajain recalled a remote robotics control unit based on the same sort of visor. Father mentioned often the Bandojens using such devices to control robotic soldiers during the Alliance War.

  The day the clan companies switched to Dilinia’s side the girls who hated Yajain had been merciless.

  Boskem brought one of those war machines. Could it be the luggage he kept in my old cabin?

  Koslel set up sensors on the floor, moving quickly and precisely. She gave the thumbs up to Boskem. He did not make a move or sound to reply. Instead, Boskem performed a strange, hunched dance full of tiny steps and small gestures to control his unseen robot.

  Yajain tuned her ears for movement. Footsteps pounded through the halls below. A heavy thud resounded from the level below, followed by a terrible crash and the sound of tearing metal. Yajain winced at the amplified sounds, which told her everyone else could hear them too, even without hunting ears.

  Boskem grinned beneath his visor.

  “That should keep the repair teams busy,” he said. He clicked the control pad he held in one hand.

  A massive rush of air came from behind the group.

  The bizarre shape of a robotic bandojen soldier emerged from the vertical passage on a leap boost by arc fins. The machine landed with a crunch. Two thick legs thumped like steel encased pistons against the floor. The drone’s body consisted of three bulbous blue-gray pods with humped backs in a row. The robot had no face, just a box of sensors and probes that hung from the central pod. A spindly arm dangled under each side, while weapon barrels pivoted atop each pod. The robot moved fluidly despite its barely humanoid shape, mirroring Boskem’s small movements with its elongated metal limbs.

  Yajain pressed her back to the corridor wall as the machine stalked forward and joined the team. She disabled her ear’s amplification and enabled sound protection.

  Koslel scurried away from the sensors she set by the door. She left a breaching charge onto the door behind her.

  Boskem said, “Confirm entrance.”

  Koslel triggered the breaching charge with a click of her thumb.

  The doors burst open and light flared as the charges’ heat began to dissipate. The remains of the bridge doors fell from the frame and crashed to the ground. Within the bridge threads of steam and fumes of smoke drifted in the air. Screams echoed in the room. The entrance of the banner ship’s bridge, much smaller than Castenlock’s, shimmered with heat.

  Boskem lurched sideways, dragging one foot. He hunched his back. His robot mimicked the step with a screech of metal on metal and brought its belly down to the floor. Gun arms extended towards the open doors. The weapons were silent for the moment. The cabler team moved toward the bridge.

  Yajain raised her head cautiously.

  Steam and smoke began to clear from the bridge opening. Peo
ple scrambled for cover on the far side. A small woman in a white combat uniform darted from the captain’s position in the center.

  Yajain’s eyes narrowed as she recognized the woman.

  Gellen Chakal is in command of the ship. That means the tyrant on board is controlling her somehow.

  “We can’t just go in there shooting,” Yajain said. “We need to find the tyrant.”

  Boskem didn’t turn to look at her.

  “If you want an alternative you’ll have to find it yourself.” He hefted the controller of the robot and started forward with a deliberate gait. The robot copied the movement on a larger scale.

  Damn him. He’s right. Yajain shut her eyes and began to tune her hunter’s ears by feel. The sounds of voices and fire died away. What sound had the tyrant made back in DiKandar’s Hall? Despite its wide mouth, its voice was sibilant. It hissed. Yajain passed through multiple noise filters quickly, listening for the same hiss each time. The sound of crackling electricity drew her eyes.

  The robot stood in the entryway of the bridge, wreathed in flickering yellow sparks. One of the banner ship’s officers lay convulsing before the robot, hands and arms blackened from discharge. Some kind of rod rolled from his fingertips. The robot stepped forward, passing over the shuddering man.

  Yajain kept tuning with failing calm. She searched for the hiss of the tyrant. Lances of coil fire slashed past the robot. Boskem grinned and squeezed the trigger on his controller. Jagged beams of energy sliced across the bridge accompanied by a muffled scream. Something hissed an order. Yajain’s eyes widened slightly. It was on this level, probably even on the bridge.

  Guess it thought it’d be safest there.

  “It’s on the bridge!” Yajain shouted.

  The robot cleared the entrance of the bridge. From the door frame behind it, Ogidar whirled, rifle shouldered. He nodded to Yajain.

  “Show it to me.”

  She took a deep breath. A creature the size of a tyrant might be a threat even unarmed. Something told her this one wouldn’t be unarmed. She nodded to Ogidar and activated her lifts. She kicked off and sailed to Ogidar’s side where she slowed and then stopped behind the robot. A bullet ricocheted off the machine’s forward shell. Beams slashed out from its arms in its only reaction.

  Yajain darted past the robot and the bridge doors, Ogidar close behind her. Another crewman sat slumped against the wall. A heavy energy slice had taken off his right arm. The limb lay on the floor a meter away. Smells of blood and burnt meat mingled in Yajain’s nose. She and Ogidar ducked behind a half-charred terminal flashing with red lights.

  Across the bridge, Gellen Chakal and half a dozen crew members crouched. Most of them carried pistols, including Gellen. Gellen met Yajain’s eyes, her own shot with blood and panic.

  Yajain tuned her ears and scanned the bridge with her eyes. The hiss came again from near the helm, but below the floor.

  Yajain turned to Ogidar.

  “It’s in a crawlspace. Can your rifle shoot through the floor?”

  “Don’t think so.” Ogidar braced against the terminal and glanced at Yajain. “That robot’s beam might.”

  “Right.” She switched off her ears and tuned the headset to speak to Boskem. Hopefully that lunatic will pay attention.

  “Finder,” she said. “The tyrant’s hidden below the floor panels, center of the room probably.”

  “Under the bridge?”

  “Yeah.”

  The robot turned and looked across the center of the bridge. Its beam arm raised, turning to aim downward. Gellen’s pistol spat a stream of coil fluid, coating the machine’s weapon arm. Despite the damage, the robot’s beam slashed through the floor. Panels burst and shattered in a few places. A sibilant shriek screamed from beneath the broken deck.

  Ogidar circled around the terminal. Yajain followed him, glancing up at the robot as Gellen’s coil fire ate through the support of the lethal beam projector so it fell to one side. Good. Don’t need him killing anybody just for fun.

  Yajain peered into the shattered floor of the bridge. Black smoke wafted from within the torn metal gouge. A gray shape limped toward one end on four legs, trailing black blood. It wasn’t much taller than a human, but it had the three tentacles on each side and belched pale yellow smoke from three stacks on its back. The small tyrant’s eyes were downcast and blood ran from its side where the beam had slashed it.

  Ogidar trained his rifle on the creature as its yellow cloud rose to them. Yajain’s breath caught as the stuff entered through her mask. Her hands trembled and she turned toward the robot.

  It can’t be allowed to hurt the tyrant further. Damn it! That thought wasn’t mine.

  Ogidar raised his rifle and aimed at the robot. His finger raced toward the trigger. The robot leapt over them with the hum of an arc boost. A stream of coil shot from Ogidar’s rifle seared the ceiling as the robot sailed past. The fluid just missed Boskem’s machine. It turned in midair and landed sideways in the gap.

  A single ballistic weapon arm extended toward the tyrant. Yajain grabbed Ogidar’s arm and kept him from shooting again. She wrestled with him over the plasma rifle.

  “Don’t shoot!” Gellen screamed. Boskem didn’t listen.

  Three large slugs burst through the tyrant’s back. The monstrous alien fell. Yajain let go of Ogidar’s arm. He shoved her back against the terminal with one hand. She slid down it and into a sitting position, back aching. The tyrant writhed on the floor as it died.

  The desperation faded from Gellen’s eyes, replaced by confusion.

  “Stop it, everyone. Stop shooting! We surrender.”

  Castenlock hung in the mist like a misshapen smoking pipe. Clouds of smoke rose from small fires and sizzling coil marks all down its length. DiKandar Hall appeared far better off.

  Ija’s three Banner Ships drifted past, their previous masters’ killing intentions thwarted. Even so, black storm clouds drew closer and closer from the path they had flown into battle.

  Yajain watched it all in a daze of fading tyrant chemicals as one of Gellen’s shuttles carried her and the banner ship’s commander along with Boskem toward Castenlock. The shuttle’s broad windows and plush, comfortable seats seemed strange compared to the survival set-up of a tumbler. Yajain breathed deep, trying to replace the strange chemicals in her lungs with clean air.

  The pilot banked the craft and they passed over Castenlock. They descended a further two hundred vertical meters to DiKandar Hall’s landing bay. Not even the golden exterior of the gateway had been marred in the fighting. Somehow the Ditari had kept Ija’s fire from touching them.

  Do the Ditari know how to fight tyrants? Did DiKandar not let on how well they know these aliens?

  The shuttle touched down in a less decorative landing bay than the one seen by Yajain before, staffed by armored hunters, likely with more hiding behind visual cloaks or other camouflage. The leader of the four visible hunters met Gellen, Yajain, and Boskem at the base of the shuttle’s ramp. She bowed her head to Yajain.

  “None of you activate your lifts. Do not make any sudden movements. We cannot be sure of our trust yet.”

  “I understand,” said Yajain and bowed back. “We all do.”

  Gellen glanced at Yajain. She looked very small and frightened, almost like a child. But then she too bowed.

  “I come only to plead your Redoca’s forgiveness for my error.”

  Boskem scoffed. Yajain hoped the other hunters missed the sound but doubted that possibility.

  The lead huntress returned to her team. She motioned over her shoulder for Yajain and the others to follow. Gellen took the lead and Yajain fell into step behind her.

  They wound through empty halls where hunters would come and go and be waited upon by Lians. The contributions of the worker class of Ditari was always left out of popular captures. Yajain’s father once told her and Lin the way even the simplest hunter received fine treatment wherever he or she went. That th
e people the hunters ruled and protected outnumbered them shouldn’t be taken for granted.

  Water and plant life dominated the decorative halls, and where they lacked, statues of animals both fierce and elusive took their places. The group arrived at a single door flanked by the shape of an eagle on one side and a tuim cat on the other. The tuim was positioned with three of four legs in the air. Its fur stood on end, fine lines of gold. Ferocious jaws hung open. The creature was captured at its most deadly, the aspect most beautiful to the Ditari. Never mind how they doted on their young. Never mind how they sometimes ate roots or leaves to survive. Yajain stopped by the statue and looked up at the face. Bestial rage permanently fixed itself there.

  The huntress stepped to one side and motioned to the door.

  “The redoca will see you beyond this hall.”

  Boskem stepped forward.

  “Thanks.” He grinned and approached the door. “The welcome and security are appreciated.”

  The door folded. Boskem led the way through it. Gellen and Yajain followed him.

  The shadowy chamber smelled of scented candle smoke. Orange flames flickered in filter jars spaced along the walls of the narrow room. Long shadows crept and shifted along the walls and floor.

  In the darkness, Yajain frowned. Her mind still battled the suggestions of the tyrant’s chemicals.

  “What is this place?” she murmured.

  “Yajain Aksari,” said Helle DiKandar’s voice from the shadows before her. “Welcome to the Hall of Truth.”

  Beside Yajain, Gellen gasped. Her knees hit the floor with only the hint of a sound to announce them. Yajain turned to Ija’s officer.

  “Are you alright?”

  DiKandar’s voice spoke from ahead of them.

  “The tyrant likely controlled her for some time. She should be fine.”

  Gellen shuddered and put a hand to the wall to brace herself. Yajain’s mind began to clear from the chemical haze the tyrant’s smoke had inflicted on her.