Chapter Twenty-Nine
Covert Actions
Elias White pulled his mask tighter against his face before nodding to the three men with him. They had watched the freighter belch its cargo into the permanent sandstorm of Ember’s Hearth with grim satisfaction.
He and his team had been camped here for weeks, preparing to move in and take out Clark if he tried to flip on Cyrus, only to hear the bastard had done a runner. They should have left then but waited around to deal with whoever took over. Instead, Clark had returned with reinforcements, and now they were trapped on this crappy planet. The order to start attacking and sabotaging operations on the planet had been a relief, as he was beginning to worry that Cyrus had written them off.
It was always a risk when undertaking this kind of mission, but Elias hadn’t hesitated. Serving the Falling Waters had been his family’s honor for generations. If Elias fell here, he could at least be proud to have done his duty.
He sneered at the idea of anyone on this glorified rock taking out him or his team. Even now, as their cannon powered down, they knew the strike was utterly undetectable from orbit. The sand covered all.
“Move out,” Elias called. “Let’s go take care of any survivors.”
“From that lot?” his second laughed. “Poor bastards.”
The man wasn’t wrong. It was a nasty way to go, but that was the point. People would remember a disaster like this. It would make Ember Hearth’s new masters look careless and Sand’s Embrace look complicit.
A good morning’s work.
They moved over the landscape on specially adapted grav cars, following the howls and clicks of their guides. The Spined Sand-Lions were native to Forest’s Hush, but the cat-like reptiles were perfect for this environment. Their spined tails were ideal for bringing a natural-looking end to anyone they found still alive, as well.
No sign of his team could be left behind.
“Trouble, left,” one of his team called.
Turning his car to the left, Elias hopped out as it glided to a stop and saw the problem immediately—an almost complete section of the freighter’s cargo hold and signs of crash-safety measures being deployed.
“Safety foam has three impressions,” Elias told the others. “That is three people we need to put down. Split up and search. Take two lions each and be thorough.”
They nodded and split off immediately, the eager pets' howls and clicks sounding strangely in the sand-filled air.
Checking his watch, Elias saw it had been five hours since the attack. That gave them less than two hours to kill any potential witnesses and clear the area before any rescue party could reach them from the city—plenty of time.
He tapped his wrist comp, releasing his own sand lions from their harnesses.
“Strike, Shiver, heal!”
They moved into position on either side of him, and he moved off, heading south away from the crash site. The cars faded behind him, their beacons ensuring they wouldn’t be lost in the sands.
Thirty minutes out from the chunk of ship, Elias finally saw a shape ahead. He slowed, waving his pets to spread out and approach from the far side. It was unlikely to be necessary, but he was a careful man.
The sands parted as he got a better look, and even he winced at what he saw. The man’s bare back showed torn and missing skin. He could see the exposed spine in one place. Elias shook his head sadly. This had been his duty, but that didn’t mean he enjoyed the work.
The man was crouched over a chunk of twisted wreckage, doing something with his hands as Elias crept closer. The wind gusted around him, covering the sound of his approach. Slipping a Sand-Lion spine from his belt, he drew his hand back and slammed it into the space between two ribs, grabbing the man in a vice-like grip.
“Shhh! Don’t worry. It’ll be over quickly.”
“Get the fuck off me!” The man spun, throwing Elias off easily.
Elias rolled in the air, landing and pulling another pair of spines, which he flicked precisely to hit the man’s throat.
Blood spurted for a second before it cut off suddenly.
“Ow! Shit!” As if they were no more than bee stings, the man ripped the spines from his un-bleeding flesh. “Who the hell are you? Why did you attack me?”
Elias felt his blood run cold as he looked at the man. Any one of those three strikes would have killed anyone Elias had ever met. With his eyes locked on the creature, old stories from childhood came back—the undead. Scary stories to frighten children. Looking at this thing in the howling sands, Elias suddenly felt sure those stories were not stories at all.
“Unclean thing,” Elias scrabbled for his gun.
“Stop!” The man charged, throwing himself at Elias and sending them both to the ground in a tumbling, punching mess.
Panic gripped Elias. He remembered shivering at the thought of an undead’s bite. He ripped his pistol free, emptying the old slug thrower into the monster, only to take a punch to the side of his head that snapped his head back.
His head rang, and for a second, Elias feared he would be knocked out.
The moment his vision cleared, Elias pushed the creature from him and wrapped his hands around its neck, squeezing for all he was worth. He felt the moment his thumbs crushed the windpipe and prayed it would be enough.
Blows rained down on him like freight trains, but Elias hung on for all he was worth.
He felt his jaw break before strong hands gripped the side of his head. Elias’ eyes opened wide in realization a second before his attacker twisted his head sharply to the side with a loud crack.
/===<<<>>>===\
Colby stood over the body of the man who had emerged from the sands to attack him. The twisted neck left the head at an obscene angle that would have left him sick if it wasn’t for the feeling of his throat reinflating as Buddy repaired his windpipe.
Blood dripped from his ruined stomach as Colby stared at the corpse.
Okay, we have breathing restored. Give me a few minutes to fix those guts. It’s pretty nasty in there.
Colby merely nodded. Why had this guy just attacked him? He knelt down and started to search through the pockets and pouches for some idea of what was going on, only to hear a clicking emerging from the sands behind him.
Shit! We have TWO more problems. Damn this sand, it’s blocking my sensors more and more.
Colby turned to see the low shapes creeping from the sands a few feet apart. Their skin was mottled green and brown, while the shape reminded him of the large cats that lived in the mountains back home. These were no cats, however. Their long snouts and scaly heads showed them to be reptiles of some form. Thick saliva dripped from long, needle-like teeth as they tasted the air with long, thin tongues.
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This time, try and remember you are really fucking strong. That last fight was just embarrassing. We know martial arts, remember?
Colby nodded, not daring himself to speak.
Watch those tails.
Colby crouched lower, and the one on the left lunged. He stepped back, right into the path of the other, which had launched itself into a leap, the long tail whipping forward with spines glistening on the tip. He ducked, spinning away, only to get hit by an actual lunge this time. Sharp teeth closed on his left leg, biting down hard.
The teeth screeched against the metal, unable to find purchase. Colby brought both hands down on the top of its head, the thick skull cracking between his fists and the metal leg.
Dazed but not dead, its tail lashed out and slammed into his side, the sharp spines adding further damage to his ruined stomach. He punched down again, and it finally died, the tail slipping free as it toppled.
Behind you!
Colby kicked out behind him, connecting solidly with something that he sent flying. Turning to face the last beast, Colby was caught in the side of his face by the thing’s spined tail.
The spines tore into his cheek, and pain blossomed as his vision went dark on the right side. Stunned by the sudden pain, he stumbled back, the teeth snapping closed less than an inch from his side by luck more than judgment.
Fear and rage wiped out his conscious thought, and he reacted instinctually. He spun and kicked, knocking the creature aside before he leaped, landing a powerful punch on the top of its head.
As it stumbled, shaking its head, Colby grabbed the head, slamming it sideways into the knee strike. The skull shattered, and it dropped to the rough ground.
What are you? A full-time chew toy and target dummy?
Buddy grumbled and complained as he worked to repair and replace even more of Colby. His entire stomach, an eye, and one side of his face needed rebuilding now. It was… not great.
Strangely enough, Colby was not freaking out. He had already lost so much of him that a few more pieces felt like no big deal. More than anything, he kept thinking of the reptilian skulls crushed beneath his blows. There was no way he could have done that before. Let alone recover from the kind of damage he had taken. A man had emptied a slug thrower into him, and Colby had barely been slowed.
Crouching down, he ran his good eye and hand over the creatures so that Buddy would have some idea what they were. He spent a bit of extra time on the tail because it seemed like a dangerous weapon.
Something foul-smelling seeped out of his healing stomach, making him wrinkle his nose.
Don’t ask. Just don’t fucking ask.
Chuckling, Corlby headed back to resume searching the stranger who had decided to try and murder him. The body was dusted in sand now, but he quickly searched it, choosing to remove the coat as it looked like decent quality. As he did, a badge showed on the shoulder of the shirt underneath.
Hey, isn’t that the Clan icon for the Falling Waters?
“Yup,” Colby nodded. “Wonder what this lot were up to.”
Find me something to scan, and I’ll let you know.
Colby tried on the coat while he waited for Buddy to finish processing the information in the wrist comp they had found. It didn’t fit, hanging off him like he was a kid in his father’s clothes.
Okay, done. Good news or bad news first?
“Bad news,” Colby said, pulling the belt off the corpse and trying the boots on for size against the bottom of his feet.
The bad news is there are three more of these pricks running around out here, hunting down survivors and killing them. Each one has a couple of those damn Sand-Lions with them as well.
“Ah, blow me,” Colby threw the too-small shoes away in irritation. “What’s the good news?”
The good news is that I can adapt that wrist comp for us and maybe make a gauntlet out of it. For some reason, I have some basic plans for one in my memory banks.
“So we need to track down three more soldiers?” Colby checked. “And I take them on with one old gun and seven—no, six bullets?”
That depends… are you willing to be a bit flexible on the whole ‘human’ look?
“I’d rather people don’t scream and point as I pass,” Colby said drily. “But I am willing to be moderately flexible.”
In that case, I have an idea or two. Get me that metal and all the tech this guy had on him.
/===<<<>>>===\
Colby sprinted through the sand, his new gauntlet feeling heavy on his right arm. He was technically left-handed, but he chose the right because he’d rather not lose that arm as well.
The faint aura ahead of him was moving slowly away from him, which should have allowed him to get the drop on them—or it would have if he had boots. As it was, his metal feet cracked the small stones beneath them. The sound gave him away.
The man looked shocked as he spun around, a rife in his arms. He shaped it up and aimed as Colby brought up his gauntlet. A small barrel on the top blazed with light, the laser array in the gauntlet spitting a hissing line of light that cut deeply into the soldier’s side.
The rifle slipped slightly, the shot going wide.
Before Colby could finish the job, the two Sand-Lions attacked. They sprinted toward him, emitting loud clicks. He kicked one away, punishing the other aside and grabbing the tail as it whipped toward him.
Colby pivoted, using his whole body to spin the creature by its tail and launch it into its twin. They went down in a tangle of limbs before Colby racked the pair with the beam from his gauntlet.
A rifle cracked, and something slammed into his shoulder, making him stumble back.
Refocusing on the soldier, Colby launched himself forward, grabbing the rifle and twisting it free of the man’s hands. Dropping back, the soldier drew a knife, stabbing and slashing as he tried to drive Colby back.
He gave ground, letting the soldier push until they passed the rifle.
The man dove for the gun, rolling onto his back and aiming point blank at Colby’s chest.
A streak of silver emerged from beneath the woven metal fibers of Colby’s coat, slamming into the soldier’s chest and deep into his heart.
“Okay,” Colby said as his newest edition withdrew beneath the long coat. “I admit the tail was a good idea.”
A quick search and a bit of scavenging later, Colby watched the new gauntlet form over his left hand. Flexing his hand, it felt weird to be able to feel the sand blowing across it. Mind you, that feeling was a distant second to the fact of having an actual tail.
We need more metal to reinforce that tail. The breastbone on that bastard damn near stopped it.
“I think I can see some metal traces to the north,” Colby said, scanning around them. “The new eye certainly helps.”
Well, I figured that if these Sand-Lions could see through the sand storm, we could as well.
It wasn’t perfect, but he could now see at least a dozen feet in any direction. Buddy took a moment, adding the computing power of the second wrist comp to the other, and then they moved on, circling slowly outward for another ten minutes before they came across another soldier. This one wasn’t alone.
The crew woman from the freighter lay on the floor in front of the soldier, one hand held up in front of herself defensively as she begged. The soldier standing over her was clearly enjoying making her beg and plead as he shot a round into the floor next to her head, sending a spray of stone shards into the side of her face. There was no sign of the second Sand-Lion, but Colby saw the first lying near the woman. It looked like she had smashed its head in with a rock.
Good for her.
Oooh, we are going to enjoy killing this prick.
Colby smiled; Buddy wasn’t exactly wrong. There were few things he hated more than someone who enjoyed hurting other people. Dropping to all fours, Colby crept forward, staying low to the ground until she was close enough that even the cowering crew woman noticed him.
“Nice try,” the soldier laughed nastily. “You think I’d—”
Colby’s metal tail slammed into the back of his chest, twisting before he pulled it out. Blood sprayed in a fountain as the man dropped to his knees and toppled forward, dead before he hit the floor.
The woman screamed in shock before narrowing her eyes against the constantly blowing sand.
“You’re that lad who fixed the hull leak, right?” she asked.
“Colby, pleased to see you again,” he said, offering his gauntleted hand to help her up.
“Are these the bastards who shot at us?” She growled, kicking the corpse before she started to cough.
“I haven’t proved it yet, but I’m going with yes on that one,” Colby nodded. He quickly stripped the soldier of his gear and handed the woman the man’s mask and goggles.
“They said you were with the I.P.A., but I’m guessing that is bullshit, too,” The woman narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “Who exactly are you?”
“Hmm?” Colby tried to buy time to think, but she wasn’t going for it. He saw her eyes flicking toward the fallen rifle.
She’s going to go for it. Do something!
“I’m a Marshall,” Colby said, not really thinking it through.
“From the Imperium?” Her eyes widened.
“Nope, I.P.A. originally,” Colby smiled politely. “Working as a Marshall, and currently on assignment with the Star’s Song Clan.
“Oh! OH!” She relaxed. “Wow, a real Marshall. You know, we used to have marshalls here in the Confederacy as well. At least, that’s what the older people say.”
“Looks like you have one again, I guess,” Colby offered, handing the woman the soldier’s coat to put on. Her outfit wasn’t as bad as his had been, but it was still torn in places.
“Any idea where that other Sand-Lion went?” Colby asked, keeping her distracted while Buddy dealt with absorbing the new technology.
“He only had one when he found me,” the woman looked around. “Wasn’t there more stuff a moment ago?”
“This sand buries stuff; let’s keep moving,” Colby said quickly. “There might be two more survivors out here and another soldier.”
“Lead on, Marshall,” she racked the rifle. “I’m with you.”