Chapter Seven

I counted down, the standard five count for an incendiary grenade.

Five, as the pins fell free.

Four, as I shifted, getting my knees under me, bracing.

Three, as fingers grabbed at the edge of my helmet from behind, scrabbling across the padding, then shifting and gripping.

Two, as I threw my arms out and flipped the grenades into the mass all around me, before hunching down as low and small as I could go.

One, as the fingers tore into my face, and my left hand tore the medium medikit free of the pouch, my right dragging my revolver free.

Zero, as night was once again banished from the depths of this place. I roared in animalistic rage and pain, as the grenades went off, searing into life.

The world around me erupted into fire, horrific heat flaring out from the phosphorus, the compressed gas that would normally have fucked the entire basin up, caught and prevented from spreading in the normal pattern by the sheer press of bodies.

One side of the basin was filled with fire still, the explosion rocking the building, while the other had been compressed down, the gas expanding, but trapped by a literal mass of bodies.

The second grenade was forced into more of a rocket engine release, rather than a dispersal point, and specters were sent flying in all directions, flaming.

I rose in the middle of it, as flames literally passed over me, I forced myself to my feet, biting down on the medikit’s rubber bungs, spitting them out and stabbing it into the only flesh I could reach, my own fucking face.

As I did it, teeth bared in a rictus of pain, a specter set alight and clinging to my back, the basin exploded in flames and flying body parts, and my revolver barked over and over.

A screeching figure appeared before me, flames wreathing it, arms outstretched as my revolver bucked, the slug taking them in the face, sending them catapulting backwards.

I flicked the gun around, pressing against the forehead of the flaming fucker on my back as it tried to chew on my armored throat, before bucking again, and releasing me of my unwanted passenger.

I turned and held my breath, the flames channeled outwards and away by all the bodies around me even as I fired twice more. Running, stumbling flame-wreathed figures tumbled to the ground. Puppets with their strings cut.

The medikit dumped its full load into my face, a writhing seething mass of nanites that tore forth, repairing even as the flames and horrific heat damaged me, and I ripped the empty container free, tossing it aside.

I released the magazine, losing it in the madness as I slammed a fresh one home, the gun accepting it, clicking as it slid the first round into place, and a half second later it was sent rocketing from the barrel.

Reaching down into the muck, I felt the hilt of the plasma sword, lifting it and triggering it to life again, as I stepped up and onto the literal mound of smoldering, burning bodies that surrounded me.

I turned, revolver tracking the next target, bucking and sending a figure tumbling, then another, then I missed. My lips curled in anger, drying from the heat, feeling like I was standing in a crematorium, as I stepped down and strode forwards.

I stepped over the ghoul, seeing only a handful more specters between me and a blackness that spoke of the next basin, and I fired twice, bodies seeming to flip from sight with the force of the impacts.

The last three ran at me, and I spun, pirouetting on one heel and I beheaded them both, then lined the revolver up on the last, pulling the trigger again.

His feet came up as his head went back, looking like he’d been clotheslined as he flipped, crashing to the floor. With that the basin before me, was suddenly empty.

I strode forwards, heart hammering as the world around me slid slowly back into primacy. The distant sound of gunfire grew closer all at once, and I snarled, flicking the release on the plasma blade. The containment arc crackled and released as I rolled my wrist away from myself, the flare of fire billowing forwards and dissipating. I clamped it onto the bottom of my back, the mag-plate catching it and holding the hilt and projector, as I slid another magazine free, releasing it from the revolver, catching it and sliding a new one in.

I listened to the comfortingly familiar sound of the hurricane revolver as it reloaded, the ‘clack, clack’ of the revolving cylinder as the magazine pushed bullets up into it, each locking into place before it moved on.

The final ‘clunk’ as the last chamber clicked closed reverberated through the gun, and I holstered it, drawing the rifle up and to my shoulder, stepping forward, drawing in a long breath as the temperature finally dropped to a level that was similar to the depths of the fucking desert.

My lungs felt burnt by the heat, my skin peeling in places from the equivalent of sunburn, while other areas, notably my face, was suffering from serious blistering, not to mention the damage done to my eyes.

The only reason I wasn’t crippled was that heat damage, as minor as its changes were physically, compared to flesh being pierced, torn and stripped away, was far easier for the nanites to repair and replace.

As I strode into the next basin, I saw the reason for the gunfire, even as my brain stepped up a gear in its processing of the world around, reaching almost normal levels of competence.

At the opposite end of the basin, standing side by side, almost shoulder to shoulder, were two entire squads of the guild.

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Julius had made it, and they were fucking slaughtering the specters with sustained gunfire.

I sagged slightly, the relief bubbling inside me, making me feel almost weak at the knees… until I saw movement behind the squads.

Julius and the two new squads stood at the head of the basin, where the slope increased sharply down to the piles of dead and dying specters, and they fired steadily, shifting from one to another, making sure of each target as they went.

Behind them though, where the steps lead down from the gantry way, movement was clear, and it damn well wasn’t friendly.

“Julius!” I sent, and again cursed the lack of a proper tac-net. I was forced to send it through the keystone, like I was making any other call, and his fucking RI or keystone settings refused the connection, returning a bland ‘please try again later’.

I recognized the fucking message, it was like one the army had set up for me to give to fucking officers that were wasting my goddamn time!

“Reign! Luna, Gessh!” I barked into the keystone instead, and due to their being acknowledged as part of my team normally, the connection was accepted.

“Kabutt!” Reign responded, clear relief in her voice. “You fucking lunatic, where the hell are you?”

“I’m in the basin, Julius and the others, do you know where they are?”

“They’re here?” she responded. “Oh thank fuck, we’re low on ammo, and that’s with the fucking reloads, okay we rescued that guy, and—”

“They’re about to get jumped!”

“What?”

“Julius and the others, they won’t accept my comms, there’s movement behind them, I can fucking see it in the light of their gunfire, they’re being set up!”

“What the hell are you going to do about it?” Reign asked, and for a second I paused, wanting to shout something like ‘why the fuck is this down to me?’

It was though, and I damn well didn’t have long. Whoever was lining up behind them was in a mixture of stealth suits and active-camo, that they were triggered now spoke to their intentions.

You did NOT sneak up on people in a firefight without unfriendly intentions. You certainly didn’t run down batteries and move in that level of gear without a damn good reason.

The very best case scenario was that they were likely to be shot by their friends should they need to retreat. No this was clearly an ambush, and I cursed, wishing I had a better fucking rifle for this, a sniper setup at least, but no use whining.

I pulled the EMP grenade out, thumbed the activation and threw it as far to my right as I could.

The basin sloped up towards the others and the fuckheads behind them, and with the wall of the basin on my left, I was left with few places to be.

I crouched, sending one last message to Reign and the others, fairly sure they’d be safe from the effects, the propagation on them was shit after all, but still.

“EMP out!” I barked, before cutting off the comm, and setting all my electronic systems, including my goddamn eyes and more, on a three second shutdown and reboot.

I braced myself, rifle aimed as best I could, and as my eyes blinked offline, then a shout and echoing crackle and boom rang out, I opened fire.

Three shots, one after another careful to keep the angle the same, and making only slight shifts to the left with each one as I pulled the trigger.

More screams rang out, and as my eyes booted up, I heard the gunfire shifting, hammering into the ground nearby.

I hunched down, pressing myself as flat as I could, waiting as my systems rebooted, and gritting my teeth as sudden shouts and gunfire rang out.

There were a few seconds more of pitch darkness, where I didn’t dare fire, knowing that the chances were that I’d hit Julius and his people more than anyone else, before my eyes flickered back online.

Blinking, I ignored the ‘reboot’ and similar messages, sighting down the rifle as its less advanced sight flickered and whirred, adjusting and zooming in.

There!

Julius and his people were fighting, the ambushers not in position, and caught as out in the open as he was, their stealth suits powered down by the EMP.

Both sides were firing at each other, their armor taking hits, some shrugging off, others penetrating. I opened fire as well, aiming carefully, picking off the figures still on the stairs, as someone started firing into their backs from behind the group.

That did it, the short, brutal fight breaking down as the ambushers, were in turn ambushed.

I managed to get off two more shots, mentally marking down another kill, before the last shot rang out, and the fight was over.

What would have been a one-sided slaughter had ended very differently, and I sagged with relief as I saw the figures slowly standing again, heard the shouts for medikits, and recognized Julius’ voice bellowing at the squads to ‘sound off’.

I lay there for longer than I meant to. I realized later, my body, pushed far past its limits in the dancing kata, had practically shutdown, and I’d gone borderline catatonic until hands reached down and gently turned me over.

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