Lasher buzzed through the scene on top of the drone, aiming a hand at his friend. Invisible strands of force caught the falling Doom Cat, acting as a slalom in concert with his momentum to launch him back the other way. He landed on the underside of the ship, digging his claws in for a firm grip.
Ejecting his tentacle bands, Fluff reached up to the front of the ship, snatching Kel by the waist. “Sorry, I'll be right with you.” Fluff yelled to the pilots.
The Doom Can slung him around the plane and into the open side door. Kel tumbled to a stop between two cyborg soldiers. “You guys wouldn't want to talk this out, would you?”
They drew phase knives from their kit, the shimmering blades humming through the air. Myofiber nerve bundles primed for fast twitch motor response along cyber-strand muscle chains sent the knives to Kel's throat at speeds normal humans wouldn't be able to address. Luckily, Kel was wearing the latest in ultra-frame technology. Environmentally sealed armor operated by thought along an adaptive cyberlink had Kel moving as fast as they were.
He passed one of the knives away from his face and into the neck of the other soldier at the same time he elbowed back to throw the stabbed trooper off his aim. Kel kicked the first trooper into the back wall, turning to address the injured one still trying to stab him. During a mad scramble to control the situation, he removed the knife embedded in the trooper’s neck and drove it through the top of his helmet. Rather than die, the trooper reached up, trying to grasp the handle making him look like a black clad armored unicorn.
The first trooper recovered, sliding behind Kel into a choke hold. The cyborg locked his heels around the waist, using his enhanced strength to press the hold against the former crime boss' armor. Neck protection creaked as the tensile strength of the materials succumbed to the crushing power of alien bionics.
As suddenly as it had been applied, the hold relaxed. Kel attempted to free himself of the arms wrapped around him, only to come visor to nose with Fluffang Doom-Snuggle. “You going to stop fooling around and fly the plane or what?”
“Get him off me!”
“He is.”
Kel watched as the plane's pitch brought his adversary's head rolling past his legs.
“What about that one?” Kel asked.
A tendril wrapped around the feet of both men, tossing them in opposite directions through the transport's open doors.
Kel wiped some of the gore from his armor. “I can't believe you ripped his head off while we were wrestling!”
Fluff huffed. “I can't believe you didn't!”
Something beneath the plane exploded, drawing their attention to Lasher landing on the deck. “Hey! You going to fly this thing or what?”
“Really? You too?”
Lasher grabbed onto the webbing above them, swinging into the pilot's compartment. They were wearing fully enclosed helmets with what appeared to be nine red glowing camera lenses on the outer face plates. He didn't bother speaking. Pulling his X-9A Chimera pistol, Lasher blew the inside of the co-pilot's head outside. He watched as the pilot drew his own pistol, only to be ventilated by Kel before he could make use of it.
The K-Fast lurched toward the ground. Through a combination of snatching him in the crucible, with a little robotic assist from Fluff, they got Kel into the seat, righting the aircraft. When they leveled off, he shifted his attention outside the left wing.
“Thank you for flying Durado airlines. This is your captain speaking. On our tour of the lovely gentrified district of Kabran City, you'll notice five drones moving in to kill us. We'll be making our descent as fiery wreckage from a height of two thousand feet if our lovely passengers don't get off their fourth point of contact and do something about it. K? Thanx. Bye!” Kel said.
“Can it with the guilt trip, Mother May I. Just tell us you need us on the guns,” Fluff said.
“I need you on the guns!”
Fluff made tisk-tisk noises. “Wow. So wound up, Kel. Have you tried more fiber in your diet?”
Kel banked the plane, giving Lasher a clean view of their targets. He jumped over to the swinging M-1170, taking control of the heavy machine blaster. Five round bursts coughed from the barrel, catching the first drone by the support wing. It burned in along a death spiral terminating in a fireball amid a neighborhood engulfed in battle with the lancers. Kel throttled the K-Fast, speeding between buildings. When the drones caught up, Fluff used the other gun to pound the assault ships. Blaster bolts pounded gaping wounds into the craft, sending the wreckage tumbling into several city blocks.
“Kel, get us back to that stadium. If you do a high pass, Fluff and I can jump for it.”
“Not on your life! We ride together...” Something physical struck the tail of the aircraft, sending it into a frenzied spin. Kel got control, but the warning indicators refused to be quiet. “Something hit us. Big time structural damage to the tail. This thing doesn't have long!”
A thunderous engine rocketed below the ship, a preface to a serpentine mech soaring by the wind screen. Fluff and Lasher hung from one of the open doors to get a better look. Fluff took the image and flashed it into Kel's HUD. A RIM-I, the same kind of Drakenmech they had fought on the Halikos Moon was here on Tythian.
“Awe, come on! We didn't even bring our Vosi to hit this thing! We are totally not prepared for this!” Kel shouted into the com.
“Kel! Hit that thing with everything you've got!” Lasher called back.
Rocket pods dumped their payload while the forward rotary cannons sang a symphony of violent percussion at the mech. Easily dodging the rockets, the robot taunting them from the sky wasn't able to fully dodge the main gun. Several rounds ricocheted off its armor until they found just the right angle to dig in and cause a problem. Smoke wafted from its armored hide, sending it crashing for the same place they were, the stadium.
“Lasher!”
Fluff pulled Kel's restraints, yanking him from the cockpit. The trio jumped over the stadium from the rapidly descending K-Fast. The plane struck the turf on the stadium floor, pounding the flat surface into craters and hills, coming to a wing shattering stop tangled in the crane's debris.
The friends landed high into the bleachers, brought safely to the ground through a combination of powerful bionics and the Crucible Way. Looking over the seats, they were horrified by what they were watching. Multiple units of the Exo Commando fanned out through the complex, creating a gauntlet of enemy activity between them and anywhere. Team entrances on both sides of the arena opened to a steady flow of people. The citizens of Kabran City filtered onto the field, spaced evenly enough so that even with all the new debris on the ground, someone like Fluff could flash scan the crowd and tell how many there were.
“Orin Lashra. This is Vidar Anaxis.”
Lasher remembered the voice coming over the speakers. It was that of Stavros Kenner, the supposed king of the Seven Seats Cartel that had overthrown Kel. Orin wondered if he’d ever been Kenner or Anaxis all along.
“If you free them and they manage to run for it, my new friend down there will still make quick work of them.”
The RIM-I had shifted its shape, becoming the armored nightmare troops on a host of worlds had lost their lives to. It was holding an M-1170 blaster that had survived the crashed K-Fast.
“I am too close to my goal to let this end by some punk with mommy issues spoiling my plans. Come down to the arena floor or I start killing all of them.”
Fluff read the count. “There's four hundred and twelve people down there. Best case, the people act as a barrier between us going after Anaxis. Worse case, we both ignore the people and duke it out, only to have Anaxis slag whatever's left.”
“I'm going down there.” Lasher said, flatly.
Kel turned Lasher toward him. “Why would you do that? You know this is all a stall so he can pull of some grand level stupid.”
“True, but he doesn't know about Objective Pelican,” Lasher pointed out.
“You know how you look at your cards and think
there's no way and then Lasher comes along and is like, way?” Fluff snorted.
“Space wizards,” Kel said.
Lasher snapped to get their attention. “This is for the championship. I need you two with me on this.”
“Till the end, brother,” Kel said.
“I go where you go,” Fluff said.
Lasher linked up the HUD in his mask with his friends. “I'll call out targets and action points I need you to hit on the way down. No matter what, that thing pays for what he's done.”
Lasher walked to the end of the row, descending the stairs toward the arena floor. A cyborg commando walked through a set of bleachers into his path, holding up his hand. In a flash of sound and violence, Lasher blew a hole through his helmet with his pistol.
“If you want my weapons, I'll come down there and give them to you,” Lasher said with menace and malice.
Reaching the arena floor, he took several steps onto the turf. Unlike the tall swaying grasses of the Kesthi Steppe, the grass here was short and uniform, like a blanket of green. Looking past the ruined parts, Lasher was keenly aware of the RIM-I perched on top of the ruined gantry like a raptor waiting for the right time to snatch its prey.
“Orin Lashra. If I had known how powerful you were, I would have made sure you died at Striker Main,” Anaxis’ voice drifted over the PA system.
The darkened privacy glass retracted from one of the sky boxes, revealing Anaxis flanked by holographic screens and a giant set of armor that reminded him of the Shepherd, Marco had asked for help with. Marco. Another member of his family felled by these monsters. Another reason Orin would kill him.
“Do you know why the Exodus Wars happened?” Anaxis asked rhetorically. “They happened because all the Origin Fleets, all Exodus travelers from Old Sol, no matter which war they fought in, are all Exiles.”
“I don't care. Come down here and finish this,” Lasher barked.
Anaxis pointed at him. “Ha! That's what I love about you. Your fire is absolute! Nothing in your way will be so for long because you are driven to succeed. By your training, your nature, your very birth defied the science that said you will not. You marshals have a saying. The Way is my will, and my will is the Way. You should add to that. My Way is unyielding.”
Lasher took a step.
“No! Not yet, boy. Not before my plan is realized.”
On the balconies around the stadium, armored giants, similar in design to the one behind Vidar, came to watch the spectacle in person.
“Ah! My Phalanx, come to witness us finally throwing off our chains and taking our piece of the galaxy. Because that's what this is about. Our piece.” Anaxis began pacing, too excited for a moment he'd long planned for. “Like I was saying, we were all Exiles. The Sol Civil War spilled into the Core Worlds Alliance. Rather than help us, the cowards cut Earth off from the rest of the galaxy. They enacted their pathetic little Hagen Accords, abolishing regulated militaries in favor of their mercenary culture. The Accords did nothing. Cutting us off from the CORAL did nothing. The fighting raged on for generations! Finally, when we had won their wars and restored peace, they decided they didn't want us to be a part of their grand society. They didn't want their weapons around to remind them of their atrocities. They boxed us up on the Void Runners and shot us into the stars. Good Luck. Good bye. Good Riddance.”
Lasher sent messages to the Elysian fleets overhead. He had to goad the tyrant into talking a minute more. He wasn't responsible for these people, but if he could do something to save them, he would. Looking at it pragmatically, saved people were grateful people and he might need a favor or two after this is over. As the tasks flitted past his eyes, a new presence was with him. They were the warmth of the pit when he was injured. They were the power that dug under the city. Their rage was seething and they were pouring it into him with every passing breath. He was their Crucible, and this was the Way.
“But below us is the Baroness, our leader,” Anaxis continued. “And she has a key that can open the vault on our ship. The Hunter's Moon was the only one where the ark survived. It carried a resource so powerful, that after the first time they saw it, the CORAL banned their very existence. Not here. The Frontier is wild enough to grow their number. The perfect place to unleash the best of us, our Grim Jaw. I won't let some mongrel brat impede us claiming what is ours because your mom got killed.”
“You're a coward,” Lasher said flatly.
There was a silence. Then: “What did you say?”
“You're a coward. The Exodus Fleets, both Origin and Exile, ran from the CORAL after they sent you screaming for the border. You tried to fight back but their mercenaries were legion supported by psychics like the Justiciare'. You crossed the Outer Boundary to the Frontier and decided to pick a fight with the one group who would have helped you. The Marshals. All you had to do was say you wanted a place of your own to grow something that meant a lot to you and they would have been all in. Instead, you fought them. When they trashed you so badly that your fleets were burning across multiple systems, you could have swallowed your pride to ask for help. But you couldn't do it, so you plotted in the dark because that's what cowards do. Koda found you and profited from your science. Triton used you. You caused all of this because you were afraid of the one word that would have solved all of this!”
“And what word is that, little mongrel?”
Lasher removed his mask, clipping it to his belt. His face was streaked with tears. “Please. The word is please. All of this because you were too afraid to ask for help.”
“We fear nothing! Especially not some boy who thinks he’s going to crush a dynasty that’s existed for over a millennium.”
“You’re not a dynasty! You’re just another cartel. But I’m not here for them.” Lasher swept his hand across the troops surrounding him until he pointed to Anaxis. “I’m here for you. If they stay out of my way, they live long enough to be reintroduced to the lancer regiments. If they interfere, I burn your whole family to ash.”
“You’re not a marshal. Fire and judgment isn’t yours anymore,” The noble scoffed.
“I don’t want that. I want revenge! Fire and judgment belongs to them.”
In periodic spots around the top of the arena were twelve immense cloaked figures. Something in their brown garments helped them blend into the walls, along with being inconspicuous to the many vision types used by the Exos. They dropped the capes, exposing hulking, three meter tall humanoids in plate armor. The knights stepped from their platforms, descending the stairs. In places where cyborgs tried to intercept them, chairs, rigging, and hand rails ripped free from their moorings, pulverizing the Exos from the fight.
“Vosi Justiciare'. They're upset for two reasons. You kidnapped one of theirs to try controlling me for your little machine. Then there's that thing.” Lasher pointed to the Drakenmech.
One of the Justicars spoke. His voice boomed as though linked to the arena speakers. It was everywhere at once, yet haunting as it didn't echo in the expansive sports dome. “The RIM-I was created before the Koda Corporation worked the tech you gave them, into the design.”
Another, this one a female with a satiny voice added, “Instead, they kidnapped Vosi citizens, put their brain into the bot, and then merged them with an AI. They wanted a psychic war machine.”
They reached the railings above the stadium floor. One took off his helmet. He was older, with lines and scars etched into a hard jawline. Vai Sul Kadi, retired Justicar, stood defiantly with the last of his line. “We kill every one of these we find. Mercy killing. We fight this one, so Lasher fights you.”
Anaxis gripped the railing in front of him, bending it to soothe his rage. The Architect would have the Baroness soon. It was all too evident he'd have to dispatch this whelp to be there. “Even with them, you can't win.”
Lasher took the Gavoc sword from his belt. He pulled the Plasmaxe handle from its magnalock. This he knew. Fighting in arenas. Fighting monsters. His body soaked in the Crucible, turning h
is eyes yellow, ringed in red. The ancient things writhing beneath the surface of the planet poured their wrath into him. Tremors shook the stadium under a sky framed in green lightning. The colonies, the corporations, the cyborgs were all an affront to them. Orin had promised to cut out these cancers in return for this one shot. If they could put him beside the thing that killed his mother, he'd be their weapon.
Yellow eyes turned to emerald as they disappeared behind the armored mask. “I don't have to win. I just have to last long enough to kill you.”
Thirty-Two
Anaxis put his foot onto the front of the club box, intending to jump down. He turned in time to watch Russo snatch an armored opponent from the air, slamming him through the cushioned seats.
“And just what were you planning on doing little man?” Russo asked.
Kel laughed through the speakers in his helmet. He used the enhanced strength of the ultra-frame to pull Russo close. Even at a whisper, the external speakers of his lid did an admirable job of rendering his voice. “I was just the bait.”
Anaxis was tackled hard enough from behind to bend him nearly in half. He collided with the seats below as an avalanche of android body tangled with a foul-mouthed murder mech.
“Tag! You're... oh no!”
Fluff floated above the seats, unable to put himself close enough to get a grip on anything. Anaxis pulled himself from the wreckage, his torn cheek revealing his teeth running into the pink of his gums attached to a metallic skull underneath.
“You underestimated me, Fluffang Doom-Snuggle! We know your tactics. It was no surprise you failed. Now witness the full power of...”
A blaster bolt struck him in the chest. The burning impact knocked him back into the ruined chairs, freeing Fluff from whatever invisible force had him. With Anaxis out of the picture, the four royal commandos vented their phase rifles into the Doom Cat. He bounded in and around a multitude of barriers threaded through stadium seating, expertly dodging the enemy counterattack.
The Sentinel: A Military Sci-Fi Series (Hunter's Moon Book 3) Page 39