by M. R. Forbes
She wasn’t made that way. She had never been made that way. Her entire life, she wanted to be like her mother, the Breaker. A top operative within the Republic Armed Services. Of course, there was no way that would ever happen. For one, her mom was one of the most wanted criminals in the galaxy. For another, they didn’t accept blind individuals into the RAS. End of discussion. Full stop.
Frag it all; she didn’t want to fight for them, anyway. Half their fleet had been destroyed by the Nephilim, and that still hadn’t been enough for them to start taking their threat seriously. This mission was direct proof of that.
It didn’t mean their side of the galaxy was safe.
She couldn’t afford to be ignorant like them. She couldn’t afford to pretend the Nephilim had been defeated at Hell’s Gate. Her need to fight for justice was her motivation for everything. It had been for as long as she could remember. In her naive youth, she thought the Republic was justice. But they were plagued by the same problems any massive system would be. Corruption. Inefficiency. Arcane rules and laws. Who needed that bullshit?
She paced ahead. The colors parted into defined shapes. Seeing inanimate things like walls and objects was tricky. It was more like how artists learned to draw or paint by filling in the blank spaces. By taking the energy and inverting it she could make out what wasn’t alive, as long as there was something alive nearby to use as reference.
And there were plenty of living things around her. Humans mostly, with a random Curlatin or Atmo thrown in. She saw them in a kaleidoscope of color. Life energy. Qi, or chi, depending on how you preferred to spell it. It was as if everyone in the universe was made of rainbows. That kind of sight had taken some getting used to at first. Now, she only really took notice when she caught a glimpse of purple or dark red or black passing through an individual’s qi. The colors of sickness and disease. She was an exceptional healer because she could pinpoint the afflicted areas with surgical precision. Because she could see them in a way that no one else could.
That was why she was down here with Black Squad instead of in orbit with Nibia on the Quasar. If anyone got hurt, it was her job to use the Meijo to put them back together.
“Witchy, you’re falling behind,” Quark said, his voice piercing her head. “Think you can catch up?”
“Roger,” Hayley replied.
She had landed in an alley. It was nighttime, so she assumed it was dark. TDS was level three. It had running water, electricity, some tech, but almost everything it imported was at least a century old, cheap and behind the curve. The planet’s government didn’t waste its limited resources on making sure mercenaries didn’t drop from the sky under the cover of darkness, and none of the individuals in the streets gave her more than a cursory look as she entered their flow.
She increased her pace, moving through the crowd without ever touching any of the other individuals despite the density of life along the narrow street. She could hear murmurs of voices, singing and shouting all around her. She could hear the clanging of pots and pans, and smell the flavors of a hundred different delicacies from a dozen different worlds.
She was in a marketplace. The rest of Black Squad was nearby. They hadn’t touched down together because Quark believed everything was a trap, and coming in too tight was a sure way to be SOL. Shredded on landing, or shit out of luck. He used the abbreviation interchangeably and either one of them would fit the outcome.
She knew Ram was behind her as soon as he got close. His smell was too familiar to let him hide. She raised her hand in greeting, and he grunted lightly, surprised she knew he was there.
They didn’t speak to one another as they continued toward the rest of the group.
“Black Squad, code red! I repeat, code red! We’re under,” Julip’s voice cut into her head through her com, and then cut off just as suddenly. At the same moment, she heard gunfire up ahead and to her right.
“Shit,” Ram said behind her, grabbing the pistol at his waist. “Let’s go, Witchy. We’re closest to J’s position. Remember what I told you before we jumped.”
Then he was in front of her, angling down the street, using his size to shove the bystanders away.
Don’t die. Right.
She would do her best.
3
She followed in Ram’s wake, letting him clear the path as they charged toward the alley. They had only made it a few steps when a sound ahead caught her attention.
“Ram, left side!” she shouted in warning, nearly a full second before the Goreshin emerged from the darkness to lunge at the large grunt, claws out.
Ram was already turning, pistol in hand. He pulled the trigger, catching the alien in the chest and nearly blowing a hole right through, dropping the creature with a sharp yelp.
Neo always said the Goreshin reminded her of monsters from old Earth horror movies called werewolves. In their first form, they looked like regular humans, and could blend in perfectly with regular homo sapiens. At least, until their special ability to essentially re-write their DNA and become something else. Something monstrous, with thick skin under thick fur, and hard bones beneath that. Large heads, big teeth in a long snout, hands and feet with sharp claws, and a built-in resistance to the Gift. They were the foot soldiers of choice for most of the Nephilim Venerants, and it seemed this one was no different.
Ram’s shot scared the normal populace. The sight of the exposed Goreshin frightened them even more. Hayley watched their qi shifting color, merging healthy blue with white, signaling their panic. The synchronized nature of the fear exposed two other passersby whose blue had become tinged with orange.
She pulled her sidearm, a smaller version of the weapon Ram was carrying.
The civvies tried to run, spreading around her and Ram and pushing in both directions down the street.
“Riders!” Quark barked over the com. “The shit is officially hitting the thrusters. Pair up and stay close. Head for my mark. Looks like these bastards knew we were coming.”
“Witchy, this way,” Ram said, on the move again, heading to Julip’s location.
She didn’t follow, keeping her attention on the two oranges behind them. The crowd was rushing away, but they weren’t. Their qi started turning red as their arms extended.
“Witchy,” Ram repeated, already continuing toward the alley.
She cursed, knowing she had waited too long to decide to shoot.
To bystanders, it seemed as if she were able to see the bullets and dodge them. In reality, she had a split-second of extra reaction time because she could pick up the violent intent of the shooters in the shifting colors that composed them. Their fingers became a sharper red moments before they squeezed their guns’ triggers.
She dropped to her knees, the rounds going over her head and slamming into a food cart behind her. She rolled to the left as they adjusted their aim, coming up on one knee and firing back. Her shots were dead on, slamming the two shooters in the chest, their bodies blossoming in purple as the rounds hit home.
“Witchy, where are you?” Ram asked. “Julip’s down. He’s - shit!”
She spun on her knee and sprang to her feet. “Where is he?”
“Ten meters ahead, five meters to the right,” Gant replied.
“I’m on my way. Colonel, where are you?”
“Pinned down, damn it,” Quark said. “Don’t worry about us. Give Ram and Julie a hand and then get your asses over this way. I’ve got visual on the warehouse, and it ain’t pretty.”
“Ram,” Hayley called out. “Ram, you there?”
There was no response.
What the hell was she about to run into?
Her heart pounded hard in her chest. She had been training for years, but she had never shot a living thing. She was more than a little afraid. More than a little shaken.
Damn it, she had a job to do. She wasn’t going to let that stop her.
She reached the corner, dropping to her knees as she did and using the snow to slide across the alley. She pointed her
gun down the narrow space, counting half a dozen Goreshin as she turned herself and came to a stop.
Ram was in the corner, bloody but still standing. A Goreshin was opposite him, against the wall and a lot more bloody. Julip was on the ground, his legs twisted in an ugly direction. He wasn’t moving.
Worse, his qi was dark.
Damn it.
“Colonel, Julip’s down,” Hayley said.
“Fragging hell,” Quark replied. “When I get my hands on the asshole that sold us this intel I’m going to shove his fragging tongue down his fragging throat.”
“I’ve got half a dozen uglies in the alley.”
“Only six? You can handle those puppies, right?”
Quark’s faith gave her confidence.
“Yes, sir,” she replied.
Not that it mattered if she could or couldn’t. The Goreshin were already coming her way. She fired her pistol. Once. Twice. Three times. Two of the dogs tumbled to the ground. The other pair were still charging.
She activated her anti-grav, spinning it up and using it to leap up and forward, reaching into a tightpack on her armor with her free hand and removing a narrow metal bar from it. She fired at the Goreshin as they leaped up to meet her, claws coming within centimeters of her body as she rotated around them, watching their colors shift and whirl.
She flicked her wrist, the metal bar unfurling into a fan-shaped, serrated blade. The Uin was an ancient Seraphim weapon. She had taught herself to use it, determined to fight the Nephilim with the same weapon their eternal enemies used.
She finished her airborne pirouette, slashing outward with the Uin and catching one of the Goreshin in the back. The rhodiunium alloy pierced the Nephilim’s thick skin and bone, leaving a deep wound.
She shut off the anti-grav, dropping to the ground behind the two Goreshin attacking Ram. He had backed into the corner, sidearm empty, a large knife in hand.
“Hey, assholes,” she said, getting their attention.
They turned, greeted with bullets to their heads.
“Witchy!” Ram said in warning.
But Hayley was already moving. She could smell the Goreshin trying to sneak up behind her. She tossed Ram her pistol, ducking beneath their attempted swipes, sliding back and spinning low. They growled and reached for her. She spun away quickly, Uin flashing as she hit the anti-grav, bouncing up and back.
A Goreshin’s hand fell severed into the snow.
They tried to track her. A series of shots cut them down.
“Clear!” Ram shouted once they didn't get back up.
Hayley hit the snow and ran to him, flicking her wrist to close the Uin and tucking it back in her tightpack. She could see the wound on his neck, deep and dark purple. Normally, they would wear helmets on combat missions, but Quark had been forced to draw the line on conspicuousness somewhere.
“Kneel down,” she said.
“I’m okay,” Ram said. “Get Julie first.”
Her heart caught in her chest.
“It’s too late,” she said softly. She could heal most wounds given the right materials and enough time.
She couldn’t do anything about death.
“What the hell is going on here?” Ram said.
“Forget it,” she replied, reaching into another tightpack to remove a poultice. “Kneel the hell down.”
Ram did as she said.
“Colonel,” she said. “What’s your situation?”
“Grim,” he replied. “Ram, you alive?”
“Yes, sir,” Ram said.
“Staying that way?”
“Yes, sir,” Hayley said.
“Roger that. Get him fixed and get the frag over here.”
“Roger.”
Hayley put the poultice against Ram’s neck. Then she sent a new command out to the naniates collected on her skin.
They started to glow softly, the glow running down the tattoos to her hands before shifting to the bandage. Herbs and chemicals were pulled from it by the Meijo and brought to Ram’s flesh. He gritted his teeth as it heated up against his skin, but when she pulled the poultice away a few seconds later, the only thing left of the wound was a slight burn.
“Thanks, Witchy,” Ram said in his typical flat affect.
“Thank me later. Let’s go.”
4
They didn’t want to rush right into who-the-hell-knew-what. On a normal combat drop, their onboard Tactical Command Units would be feeding all kinds of data into their helmets, displaying both friendly and enemy troop positions, vitals, munition counts, and every other valuable bit of intel a fighting grunt might need.
This wasn’t a normal combat drop. It never had been. This kind of urban insurgency wasn’t their usual forte. The Riders tended to be more clandestine brawlers. The kind that showed up at a military installation somewhere, busted its way in, killed a bunch of bad guys, and made it back out with a smoldering wreck at their backs. They did the same with orbital stations, starships, and the like. Anything that was strictly military, no civvies involved. The sole reason they were on TDS in the middle of the slums was because Quark’s only soft spot revolved around kids in danger.
It was the reason the Colonel had taken her in so readily after her mother abandoned her.
She knew it wasn’t fair to think of it as abandonment, but in her weakest moments, that’s how it felt. Her mom had tried to send messages. For the first few months, some of them even got through. And then?
Her mom had disappeared. Gone from the universe.
Hayley didn’t know if the Republic had caught up to her and forced her into hiding. She didn’t know if it was something else. All of her mother’s contacts had vanished, too.
Nibia was her mother now, in spirit if not in biology. Quark was her father.
And he was in trouble.
“Colonel, give us what you can,” Ram said.
They were moving more cautiously through the streets. The market had been abandoned, as had the rest of the area around them. Between the Meijo, the qi, and the rest of her senses, Hayley had just enough ambient information to navigate the space.
“Roger. We’re tucked in about two hundred meters south of you, just on the other side of the living complex. We’re backed up behind a garbage compactor. You’ve got uglies on the east and west flanks. Most of them are on the rooftops, firing down at us. Neo is hit. Don’t worry, just a flesh wound, easy shit for Witchy.”
“No sign of the Venerant?” Hayley asked.
“No. At least one thing is going right. Hell, there may not be a Venerant here at all. Ram, take the west flank. Approach the warehouse from there, keep-”
“Ram!” Hayley shouted. She heard motion to their left. And to their right. “Colonel, we’ve got incoming.” She grabbed her pistol and her Uin, turning to face the sound of the onrushing feet.
“Roger, we’re holed up… oh. Frag me.”
“Colonel?”
“You know that thing I just said about the Venerant? I take it back.”
Hayley glanced at Ram. She could hear something in the distance. The squealing sound of something large and metal, like a garbage compactor being thrown out of the way.
She couldn’t worry about Quark at the moment. She had trouble of her own.
A group of Goreshin burst out of the alleys on either side of them, not slowing as they approached, eight strong. They growled and lunged, leaping into the air en masse toward the two Riders.
Ram and Hayley opened fire. Explosive rounds slammed into the Goreshin, causing massive damage to the ones they managed to hit before it was too late.
Hayley pushed forward, using the snow again to slide beneath one of the Children. She unfurled the Uin as it passed, cutting deep into its chest, hopping to her feet and spinning. She got the Uin up just in time to deflect an incoming claw. The force of the attack caused her feet to slide back on the slick ground.
Ram grunted nearby, firing into his attackers. One of them managed to get its teeth on his arm, biting hard
to break through the lightsuit.
He slammed it hard in the side of its head with the butt of his pistol and then shouted as the teeth made it through his armor to his flesh.
Hayley aimed and fired, hitting the Goreshin in the eye. It howled and let go before tumbling to the ground. She rolled sideways as one of them jumped at her, rotating back toward it and bringing up the Uin, pushing its head to the side before changing her grip and slashing the weapon across its neck. It growled in pain, coming at her again.
She tried to bounce away, but the maneuver had gotten it in too close. Sharp claws scraped across her lightsuit, ripping through the material and making it to her skin. She felt the burn of pain as her flesh tore open. She dropped her pistol. Flipping the Uin from one hand to the other, she backhanded the Goreshin and finished the kill.
She turned back toward Ram, her body freezing in horrified shock.
He was on the ground, the remaining three Goreshin over him, snarling and biting at his face while ripping at his body with their claws.
His qi was dark.
“Colonel, Ram’s down,” she said, trying to keep her voice from breaking.
The Goreshin stopped their attack, looking back at her.
There was no reply.
“Colonel?” she said.
The Goreshin bared their teeth, growling as they stepped toward her.
Quark still didn’t reply.
She was alone.
5
She took a few steps back, away from the Goreshin. She held her gun and her Uin in front of her. She could hear more of the Nephilim soldiers coming.
“Colonel,” she said one last time, hoping he was out there.
Nothing.
The Nephilim soldiers were getting closer. She could see them running down the alley on her left. They weren’t Goreshin. They were human and Atmo and Trover and Curlatin. Residents of the planet the Venerant had enlisted. How many were there?
A thought and her com channel shifted. “Gibli, we need emergency pickup,” she said. “Quark is down. The others are down.”
