Unsung Heroes

As soon as Dex heard plasma fire across the hangar he abandoned his position beneath the shuttle and moved to help Terrik. A lone Noulator soldier had come through, her electrostatic gloves sparking between her fists. The woman was garbed in power-immune armor, and her opponents were both exhausted. Yet Dex knew between him and Terrik she still wouldn’t stand a chance.

Suddenly Dex smelled another intruder. Dex turned, barely avoiding the toxic barb fired where he had been a fraction of a second earlier. Craning his neck, he saw that the projectile had been shot by a second woman—one who had emerged from the last shuttle. She was human, with curly black hair and striking blue eyes. Her officer’s uniform marked her as a Lieutenant of the Varrcaran Regime.

From her wrist launcher, she fired another toxic barb, but this time Dex was ready for her. Nimbly he shifted to his right, evading the dart even as he sped toward his opponent. Rather than retreat, the Lieutenant raised an aural projector in her hand and fired. Waves of compressed sound shot forth—and Dex didn’t dodge in time. The blast caught him in the side of his ribs, ripping through flesh and resonating a high-pitched shriek that was agonizing to say the least.

Aural weapons were devastating on their own, but even more so against a Latoroth’s acute hearing. The result knocked him backward, his ears bleeding from the intense pressure. The woman fired again, attempting to kill him before he could recover.

All Dex’s life he had been taught how to channel his pain into anger, and his anger into fuel for his powers. With a look of fury in his eyes, Dex used two of his abilities at once. A sound-suppressing bubble formed around the Lieutenant just as a black veil fell over her vision, blinding and deafening her in unison.

Dex hauled himself up and ran toward her at an angle. Panicking, the woman brought her pistol up to bear. But Dex had already anticipated the move. His hand shot out, snatched the weapon, and threw it to the ground.

A snarl of fury escaped Dex’s lips as he lashed at his enemy, his electrical whip snapping toward her neck. Through pure instinct, the woman leapt to the side, missing the flexible blade by mere centimeters. Before she hit the ground the Lieutenant lobbed a grenade at Dex’s feet, then fired another poisonous dart as she slid on one shoulder across the floor.

Both maneuvers caught Dex by surprise. Most soldiers would be helpless under her conditions. Clearly she had been trained specifically to fight Biomancers. Her toxic barb, fired blind, missed wide but the grenade stopped right beside Dex. He kicked the explosive as fast as he could, but it still blew in mid-air, propelling him backward. The Latoroth landed hard against a crate more than ten meters away, leaving him dazed. And without his sustained concentration, the sensory deprivation plaguing the Lieutenant ground to a halt.

Rage churned within Dex, powering his every move. He rose to his feet just as Terrik flew past him with a pained cry. Dex turned in time to see the armored woman bearing down on them both, and changed his tactics.

His electrical whip lashed out at the Colonel as Terrik spun to face the Lieutenant.

Colonel Scalith had never fought a Kyronade before. Though she hungered to test her skill against him—or her—she had more important plans.

“Leave me be, Kyronade, or you’ll die before this minute is through,” she said threateningly.

Twin serrated blades sprang from the bounty hunter’s right gauntlet. Scalith found that amusing. Kyronades were no strangers to melee battles, but she knew their true mastery was in ranged combat. If this fool was ready to fight her in close quarters he would die quickly, indeed.

The Colonel sprinted forward, closing the gap between them to five meters. In response, the bounty hunter activated his jet pack and flew straight up out of her reach. His assault rifle rained down a flurry of rapid-fire plasma beams. Scalith’s armor was remarkably resistant to energy, but even it couldn’t hold against such an onslaught. Weaving back and forth, Scalith dodged the blasts while patiently waiting for the jet pack’s fuel to run out.

The bounty hunter tossed a blue grenade her way. Before she could jump clear of its five second delay, he blasted the EMP grenade with his rifle, detonating it prematurely.

The pulse did nothing to her organic armor, but it singed her exposed skin and shorted out the currents in her electrostatic gloves. Grudgingly she admitted a level of respect for the Kyronade’s tactics. Drawing his wrist blades had been nothing but bait to lure her in. Despite all this, she was confident she would kill the man if she could get bring the fight closer.

Her foe landed ten meters to her right and resumed his bombardment. Smoke from the plasma beams filled the air, providing her with a modicum of cover. Scalith maintained her defensive maneuvering, evading and dodging the majority of the projectiles until he inevitably reached the end of his energy pack. Seizing the opportunity, Scalith charged toward her foe. But the Kyronade flew straight up again, hovering in the air while he reloaded his rifle.

This time Scalith was ready. She jumped, grabbed hold of the wing of the shuttle, pulled herself up, then ran up the nose of the craft and leapt at the bounty hunter. He had just chambered the pack when she hurtled toward him, striking him in mid-air.

The pair tumbled down, exchanging blows until they hit the ground and the Kyronade managed to kick her off of him.

His wrist blades had punctured holes into her armor and flesh, but the injuries were superficial. She was the stronger of the two, and they both knew it. Scalith rolled to her feet and pounced. Just as the man stood up she drove a heavy-handed fist into the joint between his armored plates on his left shoulder. She heard a loud crack, and the man fell backward. Scalith moved in for the kill, but her opponent activated his jet pack and flew toward the other side of the hangar where a grenade had just detonated.

Scalith followed, noting along the way that her finest soldier was fighting what could only be a Latoroth Biomancer. Her Kyronade foe strategically placed the alien between himself and her, effectively switching opponents with his ally. The Colonel accepted his challenge and closed the distance to the Latoroth.

A crackling electrical whip snapped toward her chest, but a simple roll brought her beneath the arc of the blade, allowing her to smash her boot against the back of the Latoroth’s knee. Even the alien’s brute strength wasn’t enough to resist the assault; he crumpled forward, right into an uppercut from her armored fist.

Smashed backward, the Latoroth hit the floor supine and rolled to his left—barely dodging a right cross from Scalith that would have crushed his skull. Her foe recovered and scurried behind a crate. Scalith recognized his intentions a moment too late as the supply box blasted toward her.

The crate hit Scalith like a car. One of her ribs cracked instantly; the disadvantage of her powerful armor was that it did nothing to ablate physical attacks not made of energy. The Biomancer was clever—using his powers to target objects instead of her.

Wasting no time, the Latoroth sprang toward her with preternatural speed. The Colonel struggled to her feet, recognizing that she was a split-second too slow to avoid the electrical whip coming at her unprotected face.

But just before the twisting blade could reach her, the floor shook violently, knocking the Biomancer off balance so that his attack missed. The sound of hissing steam filled the hangar. Monitors on the wall shook and crashed to the ground.

What’s happening? The factory feels like it’s about to explode.

The question was forgotten as soon as it was thought. Right now all that mattered was the vibration had saved her life. The Latoroth had regained his footing but so had she, evening the odds. Cautiously, the Biomancer backed away, no doubt trying to keep her at a distance after seeing what she could do up close. His breathing was heavy—clearly exhaustion was taking its toll on the hulking brute, but Scalith was just as fatigued. Squaring off, the two circled slowly, wondering who would make the first move.

“Is that all you’ve got, beast?” she taunted. “I expected more.”

The electrical whip snapped out, moving horizontally at knee height. Scalith shifted her stance, twisted her torso and caught the blade in her left hand. Her gauntlets were made specifically to resist electricity, protecting her hands from the scalding whip. As Scalith caught the blade she yanked hard. Though she was a physically strong being, it was only the surprise that allowed her to pull the powerfully muscled Latoroth toward her. She threw the electrical blade down and to the left so he couldn’t reverse her maneuver, then slammed her right fist into his midriff.

The blow knocked him backward, a pained gasp escaping his throat. Had the Kyronade not disabled her electrified currents, the Biomancer would be dead already. She threw her next punch at the carotid artery in his neck, but the Latoroth caught her off guard. He snapped his neck forward, evading her strike even as he smashed his skull into the bridge of her nose.

Stars filled her vision. Green blood oozed down her broken cartilage as the stronghold shook again, this time more savagely. Instinctively Scalith fell into a somersault to her right, narrowly dodging the follow-up slash of the Biomancer’s electrical whip. In one fluid motion she was back to her feet, ready to finish the fight.

Following Terrik’s signal, Tola dashed through the doomed factory with Loralona right behind him.

“You know, this place was really starting to grow on me,” he muttered. “Throw a little pastel paint on the walls, add a few thousand scented candles and this could have been a nice winter retreat.”

From the corner of his eye he saw Loralona shake her head.

“The hangar should be just through here,” he said more seriously, opening the doors in front of them.

The hangar was a massive rectangular-shaped chamber, easily fifty meters long and nearly as wide. The smells of smoke and burnt ozone assailed Tola’s nostrils. Four figures were fighting amid the three docked ships. One was the armored Noulator he’d seen at the battlefield; she and Dex were clashing in a vicious brawl that looked like it could go either way.

Farther down the hangar were Terrik and a Varrcaran officer—human by the looks of it—also fighting to the death.

Tola glanced at Loralona. “You help Dex,” he yelled over the sounds of plasma fire. “I’m going for Terrik!”

He broke into a sprint across the hangar, hoping he wasn’t too late. The Varrcaran officer had activated a plasma shield on her belt, creating a thin layer of protection around her that absorbed Terrik’s plasma beams. But the shield could only absorb a few shots before it fizzled out, which Tola guessed his friend was counting on.

As Tola drew closer, he took out his grappling gun. Shields of that kind stopped only energy; he planned to shoot her ankle, pull the cable so she fell prone, then let Terrik finish her off. But when Tola came within five meters of the clashing warriors he recognized the woman firing aural blasts at his friend.

Naomi.

Tola stopped in his tracks, a hundred thoughts and emotions buzzing through his mind in unison.

How did she survive? Why is she here? What will she do when she sees me?

But none of these compared to the question at his mind’s forefront.

Can I bring myself to help Terrik kill her?

Tola didn’t know. His mouth was still open in shock, even as the pair exchanged fire. Supersonic waves screamed at Terrik, but the bounty hunter ducked clear of the blasts and tossed an EMP grenade back in response. Naomi leapt out of the way, but her weapon was still caught in the pulse, powering it down instantly.

Without a word she tossed it aside and scooped up one of the plasma pistols that had spilled out of a broken crate. Tola stood still as stone, unable to decide what to do.

Naomi might kill Terrik if you do nothing. Can you live with yourself if that happens?

But then another part of his brain answered, And how will you feel if you kill the person you’ve spent more time with than anyone else in the galaxy?

Terrik ignited his jet pack and flew straight toward Naomi, his armor absorbing the plasma beam that struck his upper torso. Once he was in melee range he shut down his jet pack and swung with his wrist blades. Naomi brushed her head back enough to avoid a swipe that would have slit her throat.

Naomi betrayed you; don’t forget that. If you let her win, there’s a good chance she will kill you, too, and that means the Earth Alliance will never get the designs for this armor. How many more billions will perish then?

But it wasn’t that easy. Tola had never known his parents, nor Naomi hers. As odd as it sounded, they had helped raise each other for more than a decade. And though she had turned her back on him, he wasn’t ready to do the same to her.

Naomi fell into a backward roll to evade the next strike, then blasted Terrik square in the chest. With a grunt, Tola’s friend fell onto his back. His armor could certainly take a beating, but as scorched and blackened as it was, Tola knew it couldn’t handle much more.

A third vibration tore through the building, shaking dust loose from the ceiling. Sweat trickled down Tola’s brow as Terrik rose and fired his rifle at Naomi.

With a sickening feeling, Tola realized if he didn’t act now one of them was going to die.

While Tola darted after Terrik, Loralona ran toward Dex and the armored woman. The Latoroth was keeping his enemy at bay with his electrical whip. The woman—a Noulator—was clad in power-immune armor, which Loralona knew was resistant to energy attacks.

Had she not used up the battery pack in her camouflage generator, she would have snuck in from behind the Noulator and stabbed her in the back with her combat knife. According to Tola, the armor offered little protection against simple blades.

But as it was, Loralona didn’t have that luxury. Drawing her plasma pistol, she took aim and fired three shots in rapid succession, all of which targeted the legs of the armored woman. With her attention on Dex, the Noulator was caught off guard. One of the blasts went wide, but the other two found their mark. Loralona guessed the damage was superficial, but the pain was enough to drop the Noulator to one knee.

That opening was all Dex needed. With a snap of his wrist he brought his electrical whip in for the kill. The curving tip of the blade struck the Noulator’s unprotected face, ending her life. As her body slumped to the floor, Loralona and Dex dashed toward the other side of the hangar. But the most powerful shock wave yet tore through the building, knocking them from their feet.

We’re almost out of time! Loralona thought as she clambered back up. We have to get out of here now!

As they neared the three combatants, Loralona heard Tola yell a single word:

“Naomi!”

The female Varrcaran officer stopped and looked at Tola as if she’d hit a brick wall. Loralona saw a mixture of emotions on the woman’s face: shock; sorrow; confusion; regret.

An instant later Terrik’s plasma beams ripped through her energy shield, killing her instantly. The woman slumped to the ground, her weapon falling from her lifeless fingers.

“No!” Tola shouted, a hitch in his throat.

Loralona didn’t understand what was happening. She was the enemy, was she not?

Slowly, almost as if he were in a trance, Tola moved toward Naomi’s lifeless body. From where she stood, Loralona could plainly see the tears welling in his eyes.

Terrik, still in the same spot, lowered his plasma rifle as if he’d done something wrong. Even behind his helmet, Loralona could tell he was as confused as she was.

Gingerly, Tola dropped to both knees and put his right hand behind Naomi’s neck. Tears ran down his cheeks, but he didn’t say a word. He simply cradled her in his arms as if he’d failed her, deeply and utterly.

Loralona was at a loss for words. She had no idea who this woman was in relation to Tola, but one thing was certain: never in her life had she seen anything like the heartbreak etched on his features. Over her years as an assassin Loralona had come to think of herself as cold and emotionless—but as she watched the horrible, pained expression on Tola’s face it stuck a chord deep within her. Loralona didn’t know who this dead woman was or what she meant to Tola, but she grieved for them both.

And in that moment . . . she understood something else: Tola was not the monster the Shock Syndicate had led her to believe.

And neither was she.

Slowly, Loralona reached for the trigger clipped to the back of her belt. Her finger hovered over the ABORT button for only a second before she pushed it. A soft smile graced her lips. The nanites she had injected into Tola’s bloodstream would dissolve gradually over the next few days, leaving no trace of their existence behind.

the Shock Syndicate would send assassins to kill her, of course. But Loralona didn’t care. She had made her decision—and she was happy with it. No regrets. No turning back.

For what seemed like hours—but was really no more than a minute—Loralona, Terrik, and Dex stood motionless, allowing their friend to mourn the death of this woman.

Another tremor ripped through the facility.

“Tola . . .” Dex murmured. “We have to go.”

Gradually, Tola stood up and nodded. As they walked toward the lone working vessel, Terrik put a hand on Tola’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry.”

Tola, still looking like he was in a trance, nodded again. “I am too. But we both did what we had to.”