by Tom Dublin
Jack nodded, swinging open his door. "Let's go."
Click!
The barrel of a long, jet-black shotgun rose up, both barrels pointing directly at Jack's face.
"Give us the ship, and no-one gets hurt!" growled the man holding the weapon. The small gathering of three other people - a man and two women - standing behind him stared menacingly in an attempt to reaffirm the gun-wielder's sentiments.
"Actually, that's not strictly true," said Tc'aarlat as he walked round from the other side of The Pegasus, Mist perched on his shoulder. "If we give you the ship, someone will get hurt. We will, when the storm arrives in just under fifteen minutes' time."
"That's too bad," snarled the shipjacker. "But, so long as it ain't us, I really don't care. Now, step away or I'll be forced to shoot your friend here right in the head."
Tc'aarlat gave another demonstration of his now perfected human shrug. "Go ahead," he said flatly. "I don't care."
The gunman frowned, clearly not expecting this response.
"You don't care?"
"Not one bit," Tc'aarlat replied. "The guy's a dick, and he was saying some terrible things about you just as we were landing. Really nasty."
One of the women frowned, appearing confused. "He was?"
"Absolutely," said Tc'aarlat, addressing the gunman directly. "He said you were short, you were fat, that you looked stupid with that bird clinging to your face..."
The man blinked, allowing the shotgun to drop an inch while he processed the supposed insult. "I ain't got no bird clinging to my face!"
Tc'aarlat sighed heavily. "You really walked into that one, didn't you?"
He let loose a sharp whistle and Mist launched herself from his shoulder. Whizzing past Jack's ear, she spread her wings wide, thrust her feet and claws forward, and dug deep into the Malatian's teal cheeks.
Screaming, the shipjacker staggered backwards, inadvertently pulling the trigger of his weapon. Two sizzling projectiles shot past Jack's ear as he dodged to the side.
He straightened and saw the second man running at him, fists raised. Jack shot out his right arm to block the first punch, then ducked to avoid the second.
Bringing his leg back around, he caught his attacker in the ankle and knocked him off-balance. The man crashed to the ground, giving Jack enough time to draw his Jean Dukes Special.
"That's enough, motherfucker!" he spat, glancing at the weapon's settings and seeing it was dialed to eight. "You hear me?"
With Jack distracted, one of the two women took the opportunity to race past him towards The Pegasus. She reached for the handle of the front door on the pilot's side but, before she could lift it, she felt something press against her ribs.
"You really don't want to do that," said Adina softly, clicking off the safety on her own gift from Jean Dukes' lab. "Solo, keep our scientist friend safe, please."
There was a solid thunk as every door into The Pegasus locked at the same time.
Adina winked to her would-be thief. "Sorry!"
The woman cursed, then flicked her eyes to look over Adina's shoulder.
Realizing there was likely someone approaching from behind, Adina leapt into the air and spun, executing a move John had taught her back on Base Station 11. As she turned, she saw the group's second female dashing towards her, a small but deadly looking knife gripped in her fist.
At the apex of her rotation Adina flicked out her foot, the tip of her boot just catching the sharp point of the blade and kicking it from the woman's grasp.
The knife spun back towards its owner, the handle catching her in the forehead before it clattered to the ground.
Adina was down, securely balanced with one foot on the discarded blade before the Malatian at the business end of her weapon had time to react.
The man on the ground made to push himself up, but stopped when Jack's finger began to tighten around the trigger of his weapon. "This ends now," he declared, "or you will."
The furious assailant slumped back with a growl.
Tc'aarlat calmly strode over to where the shotgun handler was stumbling around and flapping his arms as he tried to dislodge Mist from his face. The Yollin stooped to pick up the discarded gun and took aim.
"Mist!" he called.
CAAAWWW!
Almost reluctantly, the Raal hawk unhooked her talons from her victim's ragged cheeks, then flapped back to her master. She landed on his leather shoulder pad, shook out her feathers, then calmly lifted one foot to lick the covering of scarlet blood from her claws.
Furious, the man took an angry step forward.
Tc'aarlat pumped the fore-end of the shotgun to reload it. "Don't," he said, matter-of-factly. "Just don't."
Jack straightened up, but kept his gun pointed at his attacker. "We get it," he said, looking at each individual in turn. "You're scared. Everyone is. But, we're trying to stop this storm, and all you're managing to do is hold us up."
The gang's leader said nothing. He stared back at the shotgun pointed in his direction, chest heaving and blood cascading down his ragged cheeks.
"Get out of here!" ordered Tc'aarlat. "Before we change our minds."
The man at Jack's feet scrambled up and joined the two women as they raced off along the street. The ringleader hesitated for a moment.
Tc'aarlat chuckled. "You're not getting this back, cocksplash!"
With a snarl, the man wiped the back of his hand across the tattered flesh of his face, then turned and ran after his friends.
Jack and Tc'aarlat stood together to watch the group depart.
"Fun way to begin the last quarter hour of our lives," commented the Yollin. "Nice bunch of people."
"And we've got more on the way," warned Adina, gesturing to another clutch of citizens hurrying in their direction. "Solo, we need Zeb Lok."
Solo unlocked the rear doors of The Pegasus, allowing the scientist to climb out - the blood-stained knife in one hand, and his communicator in the other.
"Less than ten minutes to go," he said, a look of concern on his face.
Jack nodded as he spun the dial up on his Jean Dukes Special. "Then it's time to split up."
27
Alma Nine, Taron City, Weather Control Center, Main Entrance
Tc'aarlat eased himself into the pilot seat of The Pegasus and grinned. "Now, that's what I'm talking about!"
Perched on the headrest behind him. Mist let out a squaw of agreement.
"Shut up and fly the bastard thing!" yelled Jack, holding the gun out in front of him as a warning to the angry mob of Malatians keeping a wary - but, in their minds, temporary - distance.
On the opposite side of The Pegasus, Adina was doing exactly the same thing. Some members of the gathering were clutching lengths of metal pipe or long pieces of wood scavenged from one of the buildings that had collapsed elsewhere in the city.
And it was clear they weren't afraid to use them.
Zeb Lok watched the agitated crowd nervously from the passenger seat. Every few seconds, one of the mob would take a step towards the ship, only for Jack or Adina to swing their weapon in their direction, causing them to step back into the horde.
Everyone, no matter which side of the stand-off they were on, knew they wouldn't be able to hold back the tense refugees for much longer.
"They all want The Pegasus!" cried Adina.
"They can't have it if it's not here!" replied Jack. "Solo - get Tc'aarlat and Zeb Lok up to the apartment now!"
"Certainly, Captain Marber."
With that, The Pegasus shot vertically up the side of the building, leaving Adina and Jack alone at the center of a growing circle of terrified refugees, all desperate for a way out of the city and the impending violence of the storm.
The two humans cautiously stepped backwards, the restless circle closing in around them.
"What's the bet that Saf Tah's safely tucked away in a lead-lined bunker somewhere right now?" asked Jack as he felt his back touch Adina's.
Adina laughed. "He's proba
bly got his two flunkies feeding him grapes."
"One flunky," Jack reminded her. "One of them walked out on him just after we left, remember?"
"Oh, yeah..." said Adina, swinging her gun to the left to stop a stocky, snarling Malatian with tightly curled silver hair from rushing at her. "I guess he found where he left his balls."
"Remind me to go look for mine after this lot have torn them off," quipped Jack.
Suddenly, one of the men on his side of the circle dashed forward, something resembling a broken table leg clutched in his hands.
"Bring your ship back down!" he roared, running toward Jack.
Thinking quickly, Jack spun the dial of his Jean Dukes Special down to three and fired at the man. The blast hit the aggressor square in the chest, throwing him backwards for a few feet before he crashed to the ground, out cold.
"He's OK!" Jack yelled to the horrified mob. "I only shocked him. He'll be fine in an hour or so."
But his words did little to calm the increasingly jittery gathering. If anything, the sight of the unmoving man only served to focus the feeling of fury among the uneasy throng. Together, they began to advance on Jack and Adina, fists clenched and makeshift weapons raised.
"Shitty luck, huh?" chuckled Jack. "Getting torn apart on our first mission, and we didn't even settle on a team name. Unless, by some small chance, the domain deadfuckers.com is still available for Nathan to purchase after they find the last few pieces of us."
But Adina didn't reply. Instead, she closed her eyes and began to concentrate.
Alma Nine, Taron City, Weather Control Center, The Pegasus
The Pegasus came to a sudden stop and hovered outside the windows of Yan Mil's top floor apartment. Tc'aarlat and Zeb Lok stared at the deserted residence through the front view screen in silence for a few seconds.
"OK," said Tc'aarlat, rubbing his palms together in anticipation of some kind of action-packed plan. "What happens now, Solo? Have you got a plan to get us inside?"
"I do indeed, Tc'aarlat?"
The Yollin grinned with excitement. "Let's hear it then..."
"Well-" began Solo, but the sentence was cut short.
"Ooh, I know!" Tc'aarlat proclaimed. "Zeb Lok will climb out onto the front of The Pegasus while you get us closer to that open window Mist got through earlier. He'll squeeze inside, then unlock the program controlling the storm with the DNA thingy, cancel it, and we're home and dry."
"Not quite," said Solo.
A frown troubled Tc'aarlat's brow. "But... I can't fit through that gap in the window; I'm too big. And I'm not that keen on balancing on the front of the ship either, if I'm perfectly honest."
"That wasn't my plan, either," said Solo.
"Then, what is your plan?"
The Pegasus began to fly in reverse, backing away from the building and the apartment's windows.
"Please fasten your safety belts and take hold of something solid," advised Solo.
"Wait, no!" cried Tc'aarlat as Zeb Lok fastened his belt beside him. "You're not about to do what I think you're about to do, are you?"
"That would depend," Solo responded. "As I am not connected to any implant you may currently have embedded inside your skull, I am unable to accurately ascertain exactly what it is you think I'm about to do."
"I think you're about to ram this beautiful, pristine ship directly into the apartment windows as a way to get us inside!"
"Oh, well in that case, you are absolutely correct!" said Solo happily.
"But-"
"Hold on..."
With a blast of energy from the rear boosters, The Pegasus shot forward like a bullet from a gun.
Tc'aarlat just had time to click his seatbelt into place, grab Mist and press her to his chest before the front of the ship made contact with the side of the building.
There was an almighty shriek of tearing metal and an explosion of glass as the windows caved inwards. The entire dashboard of the ship lit up with red, flashing lights and alarms blared out from every speaker.
The Pegasus slammed into the floor of the apartment's living room, tearing up the carpet and gouging a deep channel into the concrete below as it skidded towards the far wall, gradually turning slightly to the left as it moved.
"Collision detected," announced Solo.
"No shit, Sherlock!" bellowed Tc'aarlat, pulling his legs in to avoid slicing them open on the razor sharp edges of the twisted metal jutting from the front of the cabin.
The momentum of The Pegasus carried through the far wall and into the kitchen, where it finally came to a screeching, grinding halt against the refrigerator, the appliance leaning in through the shattered windshield.
As Tc'aarlat and Zeb Lok finally allowed themselves to breathe again, the door to the ice box swung open, allowing a whole, frozen chicken to slowly slide out and land directly in the Yollin's lap.
SSQQAAAWWWW! cried Mist.
"Oh, fuck off!" spat Tc'aarlat. "That is NOT your ex!"
Somewhere far beneath the piercing alarms emanating from whichever speakers hadn't been smashed, Zeb Lok became aware of a tinny ringing sound. He thrust a hand into his trouser pocket and pulled out his battered communicator.
"Shit!" he exclaimed. "Two minutes 'til Storm Vix!"
"Then go!" commanded Tc'aarlat. "You snooze, you bruise!"
"The knife!" said Zeb Lok urgently, looking around the battered cabin. "I must have dropped it when we crashed in through the windows."
Both men began to fumble around among the debris at their feet, pushing aside broken pieces of the ship's shattered command console as they frantically searched for the missing blood-stained blade.
"Where the fuck is it!" yelled Tc'aarlat, scrabbling through the sharp-edged fragments of what had once been electronic circuit boards.
"90 seconds!" cried Zeb Lok.
"I've got it!" shouted Tc'aarlat, spotting the handle of the knife jutting out from the leather upholstery of his seat.
The Yollin yanked the blade free, held it up to the light to make sure the bloodstain was still present, then he thrust it into Zeb Lok's hands.
"GO!"
As the communicator beeped to signal the start of the final minute before Taron City fell victim to the deadliest storm the planet had ever known, Zeb Lok grabbed the door handle and pushed.
But, the door was jammed and wouldn't move.
Alma Nine, Taron City, Weather Control Center, Main Entrance
Jack stared in horror as Adina dropped to all fours, her eyes screwed shut and her gun skittering across the sodden road surface.
The wretched mob around them froze, silent, as they too watched her writhe in agony from the spears of pain coursing through her body.
Adina threw her head back and screamed as her spine splintered in pieces, vertebrae snapping apart and reforming in new, more animalistic configurations.
The skin of her arms and legs pulsed and rippled as the flesh beneath twisted and knotted into thick, solid muscle. Blood spurted from her fingertips as razor-sharp, yellow talons burst through tearing off a number of her own fingernails in the process.
Then came the fur. Dense, grey and quickly flattened by the pouring rain. Her shirt ripped at the seams, falling away as her body continued to grow and reshape itself. Her dark blue overalls - arms tied around her waist - soon following.
Her screams of pain dropped several octaves, becoming growls, and eventually a primal roar as her face stretched out to become the snout of a wolf. Adina's teeth were pushed aside in her gums as glistening fangs pushed through the agonized flesh.
Her ears rose up to sit atop her skull, her nose widened, turning black as it sniffed at the air, picking up the scent of the terrified mortals gathered around her.
When her eyes finally opened again, they were yellow. Angry. Hungry.
Suddenly, the gale force winds ceased and the pounding rain stopped as if someone had turned off some giant faucet in the sky.
Far above, the trillions of microscopic nanobots responsibl
e for the downpour hovered motionless as their new programming - the lines of code that would bring Storm Vix into being and slaughter tens of thousands of people in the city below - began to stream into their memory banks.
But the people surrounding the werewolf didn't seem to notice the change in the weather; every ounce of their concentration was fixed solely on the creature in the center of the circle as it scanned from left to right, taking in each and every one of the lesser beings surrounding it.
The wolf tossed back its head and howled, the piercing cry echoing around the now silent streets outside the Weather Control Center.
The sound broke whatever spell was holding the Malatians who had wanted The Pegasus as their own and, as one, they turned and ran in fear of their very lives.
Thunder boomed across Taron City as the nanobots' reprogramming was finally completed, and Storm Vix officially began.
Alma Nine, Taron City, Weather Control Center, Yan Mil's Apartment
BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!
"It's started!" croaked Zeb Lok.
Almost instantly, the already dented roof of The Pegasus began to buckle under the first surge in gravity, the thick metal and torn silky material of the lining bulging downwards to press into the top of Tc'aarlat's head.
Still wrapped in his arms, Mist gave a shriek and fought to break free. Tc'aarlat resisted for a few seconds, then relented, allowing her to half jump half fly to the floor at the rear of the compartment where she huddled, trembling, behind his seat.
"SOLO!" yelled Tc'aarlat. "Can you get us out of here?!"
The last working speaker inside the ship crackled with static before the E.I.'S voice responded. "I'm s-s-s-s-s-o-o-o-r-r-r-yyyyyy Tc' Tc' Tc'. Ple-ple-please fas-ten-ten-ten yourrr ssssseeeeaaaaatbel-"
Then, silence.
Raising his hands, the Yollin tried to push back against the sudden pressure pounding The Pegasus. Pressing his palms flat against the twisted metal, he locked his elbows and fought to keep the roof from collapsing any further.
But it was of little use. The Pegasus may as well have been inside a commercial car crusher at a junk yard. With both Tc'aarlat and Zeb Lok still inside.
Zeb Lok felt himself being shoved lower and lower in his seat, fingers trembling as he tried to keep his grip on the handle of the knife stained with Vix Mil's blood.