by M. R. Forbes
“Bastards know how to ruin a good time, that’s for sure.”
“What do you want to do, Colonel?” Hayley asked.
“We can make the other side without being spotted. How far to the depot from there?”
“Two kilometers,” Violent said.
Quark said something else after that, but Hayley didn’t hear it. Another sound at the edge of her hearing caught her attention. It sounded familiar, but she couldn’t quite place it.
“Gant, can you identify that sound?”
“Which sound is which, Witchy?” the AI replied, chittering after the statement.
She wasn’t amused. “The lower frequency in the distance.”
“One moment.”
“Witchy, let’s go,” Quark said.
She heard him, but she didn’t respond. She didn’t like the sound.
“Outworld Shrikes,” Gant said at last. “Three of them.”
Shrikes? What would the starfighters be doing in the Pit?
There was only one thing she could think of.
“Witchy.” Quark put a hand on her shoulder.
“Shrikes, Colonel. Run!”
25
The Shrikes didn’t wait to reach them before opening fire. The starships dipped into the quarry of the Pit, strafing the bridges as they ripped between them, their heavy projectiles tearing the platforms apart and sending the individuals on them plummeting to their deaths.
Hayley and the others didn’t hesitate, making a break back the way they had come, to the eastern side of the canyon and away from Hoshus and the Nephilim.
A collective murmur rose to screams as the Shrikes continued on their deadly path, the small, wedge-shaped, uniquely-agile starfighters spinning and dancing within the confined space, blasted bridge after bridge.
They had almost reached the other side when the Shrikes arrived; their noses lit up in flame as slugs slammed the bridge above where they had been. It squealed and gave way.
“They’re killing everyone,” Violent said, her qi a stark white.
“I guess they’re tired of hunting for us,” Quark replied. “And hoping they get lucky.”
“I think they saw us, Colonel,” Tibor said, pointing back to the bridge.
Hoshus was there, standing at the other end in his second form. He must have jumped from the upper level to get down that quickly.
Quark raised his rifle and started shooting, the rounds smacking into the Goreshin from a hundred meters. Hayley could see the purple plumes on Hoshus’ body where the rounds hit. They faded rapidly, healing as fast as they could be created, and not hitting with enough power to break the dense bone beneath.
“Save your ammo, Colonel,” she said. “It’s not helping.”
“Frag me,” Quark replied, lowering the gun.
Bullets started hitting the steel and stone around them, fired from the opposite direction.
“Get back!” Quark shouted as they all backed into the corner.
The Shrikes started turning back to make another run through the canyon.
“We can’t stay here,” Hayley said, watching Hoshus.
The Goreshin was charging across the bridge, hurrying toward them. They were trapped between him and the soldiers, with the Shrikes preparing to close in.
“Go through!” Quark said, spinning out from behind cover and bringing his rifle up again. Rounds whipped past him and into him, striking his lightsuit like small, heavy punches.
Hayley followed right behind him, bringing her rifle up and quickly identifying the shooters. They were in the corner of the adjacent corridor, and they moved out of sight as they retreated to let the wall absorb the counterattack.
“Think that’s going to help you?” Quark shouted.
He shifted his aim and fired. The slugs hit the hard stone, ricocheting off and into the soldiers. The ones that didn’t die shouted in surprise, breaking cover again to return fire. Hayley quickly aimed and fired, cutting them down.
“Tibor!” Hoshus shouted. “Traitor!”
The Goreshin had nearly reached the other side of the bridge. The Shrikes were still shooting at him, cutting down the bridges to ensure they wouldn’t make it to the other side and leaving them with only one direction to escape.
Tibor’s body changed, growing as he shifted to his second form to meet his former squadmate.
“I’m not Devain’s slave anymore, Hoshus,” Tibor said. “The bitch is dead.”
“Maybe not a traitor to the Venerant,” Hoshus replied. “You’re still a traitor to the Nephilim.”
“Colonel, we have to do something,” Hayley said. “He’s already injured.”
“I’m open to ideas, kid.”
The two Goreshin charged one another, claws flashing and flying as they growled and came together. Hoshus grabbed Tibor, throwing him into the wall. Hayley could see the purple sprout from his qi, his back shattering from the force.
The Nephilim didn’t hesitate, pouncing at Tibor, claws ripping into his flesh. Tibor put up his arms to defend himself, blocking the attack and then scampering away. He managed to get clear, turning to resume the fight.
“Run!” he shouted at them. “I’m saving your life.”
He charged at Hoshus, only to find himself with another gash on his chest and pushed into the wall a second time.
“You’re pathetic,” the larger Goreshin said.
Quark looked to Hayley. She shook her head. “We can’t abandon him. He’s part of the team.”
“Damn right,” Quark replied. “We’ll hit him togeth-”
He stopped speaking, his qi turning yellow-green with curious amusement.
Hayley looked back. Violent was approaching the Goreshin. She had tossed off her black cloak, revealing a tiny body under a flowing dark-green shirt and pants. She was shimmering in blue-gold, the naniates active in her bloodstream.
Hoshus must have smelled her coming. He looked away from Tibor, slumped against the wall.
“What is this?” he said, baring his sharp teeth in a fearless grin.
He lashed out at Violent with his claws, intending to sweep her aside like she was trash.
She caught his hand with hers, planting her feet and stopping it in its tracks. Then she clasped it with her other hand, turning and shifting her weight, heaving him impossibly away to crash into the adjacent wall.
He hit hard, the rock cracking beneath the force as he bounced off, snarling and rushing back at her, ready to snatch her up in his claws.
She ducked beneath them, throwing an awkward punch into his side. It didn’t matter if it was awkward. It hit Horshus with the power of a piston, breaking his ribs and throwing him sideways.
Right into Tibor’s waiting claws.
Tibor growled and jumped up, wrapping himself around Horshus’ neck, yanking its head back with one hand and slashing across its throat with the other. He continued to hold on while the other Goreshin thrashed, pressing him against the wall to dislodge him, reaching back and trying to dig his claws into Tibor’s face.
Tibor stayed on him, dragging his claws across Horshus’ throat over and over again, each time penetrating deeper and deeper until finally making it through.
The Goreshin’s head toppled away, dropping Tibor to the ground behind the tumbling corpse.
“The Nephilim can go frag themselves,” he said, shifting bad to his first form and spitting on Horshus. He looked up at Violent. “Thank you.”
Violent looked sick at what she had done, but she nodded acceptance before picking up her cloak and returning to where Quark and Hayley were standing.
“So much for pacifism,” Quark said.
“I hate myself for getting involved this way,” Violent said. She paused. “I hate the Nephilim more. For all of the awful things they’ve done on Kelvar, I never thought they would stoop this low.”
“That’s because you don’t know them very well,” Quark said. “This is nothing compared to what they’ve done in the past.”
“Do you wa
nt justice?” Hayley asked.
“Yes.”
“Welcome to the party,” Quark said.
26
Everything was spiraling out of control as Hayley and the others tried to navigate the inner depths of the Pit. A large number of the residents were making a run for their apartments in the rock, trying to escape the sudden and unexpected Nephilim attack. Others were attending to the wounded, stopping to help the fallen in an effort to carry them to safety. Meanwhile, the Nephilim had stepped up the assault, bringing more of their forces from Kelvar City and sending them into the Pit to catch the remaining Riders once and for all.
Of course, it wasn’t the Riders they wanted. Not really. They were a secondary concern. A nice-to-have. What Nephilim Command wanted was the data chip they had made, containing the details of the research they had been working on and had almost perfected over the last four years.
It would have been easy for them to destroy the chip and be done with it, but both sides knew that wasn’t what would happen. It was valuable to both sides. For the Nephilim, to continue creating their Goreshin super soldiers like White. For the Riders, and ultimately the Seraphim, to stop that from happening and maybe create a counter in case they tried again.
They were getting closer to the main lift leading out of the Pit. It was the only means to get to the surface, even more so with the Shrikes zipping back and forth through the quarry, taking out as many bridges as they could and keeping them confined. They didn’t dare go out in the open unless it was a desperate necessity.
They all knew the Nephilim would have the largest mass of soldiers there. They all knew White would be waiting for them, perhaps with the rest of the remaining Goreshin: Grun, Bale, and Klangor. It was a fight none of them were looking forward to, but what other choices did they have?
Hayley’s nerves were fraying, but she wasn’t about to complain. This mission had been a disaster since her boots had touched the ground. No, it had been a disaster before that. The Nephilim had known they were coming. They had known when. The Riders were a family, but the thought made her wonder if someone on the Quasar had betrayed them.
If so, who?
It would only matter if they managed to escape.
They were closing in on the atrium leading out to the main lift when a group of two dozen miners appeared from an adjacent corridor. They were carrying their makeshift weapons; mainly cutters, hammers, and picks. When they saw the soldiers, they shouted, running toward them without considering they might not be the enemy.
Violent stepped in front of them, lowering her hood.
“Stop!” she shouted, putting her hand up. Her naniates flared in Hayley’s vision, prepared to help her defend herself if they didn’t listen.
The small mob came to a stop.
“Grej Kalkan,” Violent said. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Violent?” one of the miners at the front of the group said. He had to be Grej. “What are you doing? I thought you were a part of the resistance?”
“I am, idiot,” she replied. “Are you stupid, charging us like that?”
“These soldiers,” he started to say.
“Are on our side, gurfer. Look at them before you attack them. They aren’t Nephilim.”
Grej eyed Hayley, his qi both angry and curious. It faded to a more subdued embarrassment.
“Who are you?” he asked.
“Name’s Colonel Quark,” Quark said. “These are my associates, Witchy and Tibs.”
“Tibor,” Tibor said.
“That’s what I said,” Quark said.
“You said Tibs. You keep calling me Tibs. I don’t like it.”
“I don’t care.” He laughed. “You fellas look like you came for a fight.”
“We did,” Grej said. “We’ve put up with the Nephilim for too long. They have no right to attack us like this. We didn’t do anything to them. We have to protect our own.”
“Damn right, you do,” Quark said. “It looks like you and us are on the same side, Grej. What do you say we team up?”
Grej nodded. “Yeah. Okay.”
“Good.”
“Uh, Colonel,” Hayley said.
Quark turned to face her. “Yes, Witchy?”
“Are you sure this is-“
He put up his hand. “Who’s the Colonel here?”
Hayley wanted to argue. She didn’t. She couldn’t. She had promised to follow his orders for better or for worse. But she knew what Quark was thinking. These people were going to be cannon fodder so they, and especially she, could make their escape.
“Stay close. You see any soldiers wearing black armor that isn’t the two of us; you hit them with your sticks, you got it?”
“Yeah,” Grej said.
“Yeah?” Quark said. “What the frag is ‘yeah?’ It’s yes, sir!”
“Yes, sir,” Grej said.
“You can do it better than that.”
“Yes, sir!” all of the miners shouted.
“Now you’re soldiers,” Quark said. “Let’s go.”
He led them forward, through the last few corridors back to the Pit’s main concourse, a huge open area where the original equipment had been brought in, carried down, and assembled. But there hadn’t been any construction in the last fifty years, and the concourse had been converted to a marketplace of sorts.
That marketplace was in ruin now. Dead residents were scattered around broken and shattered carts and torn tents, evidence of projectile, laser, and plasma fire causing parts of the wreckage to smolder.
Nephilim soldiers were gathered near limited cover, watching and waiting for them to show. Hayley scanned the ridge of the Pit near the lift, finding more soldiers there waiting to ambush them when they attacked.
“Kind of makes those other squads we took out earlier seem like a waste of energy, doesn’t it?” Quark said quietly, standing beside her. They were close enough to get a read on the enemy, far enough away to avoid being seen.
“How are we supposed to get past that?” she asked.
He flicked his head toward the miners. “How pissed are they?”
She gave them a quick look. Their qi was red, but it was mingled with white. “They’re mad, but they’re also afraid.”
“Fear is good. You’ll see, kid. Once they start beating on those Nephie soldiers, the rage’ll come.”
“Until one of them dies.”
“Better them than you.”
“Colonel-”
“I know, you don’t like it. That’s why I’m the Colonel. I can call the shots you don’t like, and you can not like them, and you can do it anyway. We can’t die here, Hal. Don Pallimo needs this data chip. He can send it out to the right people.”
“Like my Mother?”
“If she can get it, sure.”
“What about White?”
“I don’t see him.”
“He’s probably topside, waiting to jump down at us like a damn spider.”
Quark laughed. “I know, you hate spiders. I’ll never understand that.”
“Tibor is afraid of clowns.”
“What?” Quark laughed. “I’ll get him with that later.” His head shifted, scanning the field again. “I don’t see White. Could be he isn’t here. Maybe he went to the southern depot? Wouldn’t that be rich? Anyway, there’s a stairwell next to the lift. It’ll be faster for you to climb than wait for that hunk of junk to come back down. When we go, I want you to make a beeline for it. You get to the top and take care of the rim defenses. Bring Violent with you. Me and Tibs will help the miners with the soldiers, and then we’ll join you.”
“I don’t think we should split up,” Hayley said.
“I don’t care,” Quark replied. “Those are the orders, soldier.”
“Yes, sir,” she replied.
He squeezed her shoulder and returned to the miners.
“Tibor, you’re with me,” he said. “You all follow my lead. We take out the Nephilim here, and then we move on the rest of the Pit.�
�
“Yes, sir!” the miners said.
Hayley lowered her head so she wouldn’t have to look at Quark’s lying qi. Maybe he was okay with sacrificing them for her, but she was going to be sick about it for the rest of her life.
Whether that was sixty seconds or sixty years remained to be determined.
27
“Are you ready?” Hayley asked.
“Yes,” Violent replied. Her qi said she was, through a whirling mix of fear, anger, and naniates.
“We’re ready, Colonel,” Hayley said into her com.
Quark was a few meters ahead, the miners and Tibor gathered around him. They were standing at the edge of the entrance to the main concourse, gathered in an angry mob ready to take on the Nephilim single-handedly.
Ready to die.
“Alright men,” Quark said, turning to the miners. “We head right for that group of assholes over there. We don’t stop. We don’t slow. We don’t turn around. You bug out, the guy next to you dies. He dies, you die, and then we’re all dead. You got it?”
“Yes, sir,” they said quietly.
“Good. I’m leading the charge so you know I’m not afraid. I can’t promise we’re all going to make it, but I can tell you we’re going to do our families proud.”
His head shifted slightly toward Hayley when he said it before he looked away, back to the Nephilim soldiers. He had taken Hayley’s rifle, and he shouldered both of the guns, carrying them like they were extra appendages.
Then he sprinted away from the corridor, out into the open. He didn’t make a sound; he just took off, a bat out of hell.
It took a few seconds for the Nephilim soldiers to spot him. It took the same amount of time for the miners to realize they should be on the move, and for Tibor to shift to his second form. Quark was shooting by then, sending round after round from both weapons into the Nephilim defenses.
The blacksuits fell, the first line of them cut down before they could think to return fire. Quark charged headlong into the assault, taking rounds off his armor but mostly avoiding getting hit. The blatant fearlessness of his charge threw the enemy into a chaotic rush that turned their aim to shit.