BLAM!!
Just as he hoped, the barrel exploded in spectacular fashion, but most of the shrapnel went forward, spraying the terrorist’s helmet in a deadly cone.
Raj’s unhelmeted face was lucky enough to avoid any serious damage, but he was shunted backward by the blast and had to put a hand down to steady himself as he slid to a grinding halt.
He quickly looked up to see how much damage had been done to the terrorist and felt a sinking feeling when he saw Garen’s helmet had barely been singed.
Then the terrorist was suddenly up and charging at him, this time without a shield or a weapon.
“Fucking bring it!” Raj roared in terror-fuelled rage, punching one cybernetic hand into the other with a heavy THUNK!
In the next instant, the two of them were locked in a vicious exchange of punches that echoed loudly through the small room. The terrorist’s armour held up surprisingly well under the fearsome blows Raj landed with his cybernetic arms, but his own armour protected him in return. He also managed to keep his unhelmeted head safe with a combination of lightning defensive moves and savage attacks that kept Garen on the back foot, but there were plenty of close calls.
Thanks to Raj’s heightened state of awareness, it felt like the closely-matched battle continued for an eternity, until he noticed the terrorist abruptly change tactics. Instead of attempting to reach his unprotected head, Garen instead tried to grab Raj’s cybernetic arms in a lock that would put them under enormous stress.
Raj quickly changed his own tactics in response, but it was almost as if Garen was waiting for the change. As soon as he tried to avoid a grappling move that would have snapped his arm into full extension, Garen grabbed his right forearm and slammed it back into the wall behind him.
Surprised by the move, Raj tried to pull his arm free, but the terrorist was strong enough to hold it firm.
“Not good,” Raj thought, instinctively using his other hand to help pry the first one free. But he soon realised his mistake when he felt a large hand close around his throat.
The next thing he knew he was being hauled off his feet and pressed against the wall a good half-metre off the floor.
With his free hand, Raj quickly latched onto the forearm leading to his throat and he began closing his cybernetic fist, imagining a ration container popping and crinkling as it turned into a ball of trash.
“Don’t,” the terrorist said in a gruff, yet somehow feminine, tone. “You keep squeezing, I keep squeezing.”
Realising Garen was talking about the hand at his throat, Raj wondered if this was a call to surrender. But would a man like Garen Maertikye ever show mercy?
He wanted to keep crushing, to tear the terrorist’s armour off and pulverise his arm until it was nothing but a mess of bloody splinters, but he knew the battle was already over. If this man’s grip could destroy the barrel of a pitgun so easily, Raj’s neck would provide no resistance at all.
And so he reluctantly relaxed his grip, keeping his hand on the forearm, and let the rest of his body go limp.
“There you go,” the terrorist replied. “That wasn’t so hard now, was it?”
Raj glared into the opaque eye-slits of the terrorist’s helmet, wishing he could look into Garen’s eyes and show him he wasn’t afraid.
“Sheeva!” a voice spoke suddenly to their right.
Both Raj and Garen turned toward the voice and Raj’s jaw dropped when he saw a much smaller man stepping out of the wide open vault he was meant to be guarding.
The intruder was wearing some kind of dark, skin-tight suit that shimmered strangely as he walked and his emotionless face was the only part of him not covered.
Somehow, the drop ship’s security system had missed this second terrorist and while Raj had been busy fighting Garen, he hadn’t even noticed the inner vault had been breached.
“But who the hell is Sheeva?” he thought in confusion.
“It’s done,” the smaller man added, before striding toward the exit.
“Did you get it?” Garen asked in his strange, grumbling voice.
“We did,” the other terrorist replied, not even looking at them as he walked by.
“Nice work, Garen,” the terrorist holding Raj’s throat added.
Raj’s eyes went wide.
“You’re not Garen?” he asked in disbelief.
At this, the terrorist holding Raj looked back at him and then let go of his right arm so he could casually take off his helmet.
As Raj stared at a face framed by long grey dreads that had been tied back in a thick bun, he realised his assumptions had been wrong on more than one count.
“You’re a woman?” he said, incredulously.
“Damn right,” she replied with a grin. “And you’re one hell of a fighter. I like a man who doesn’t break so easily.”
And with that, the terrorist named Sheeva leaned in and kissed Raj hard on the mouth.
Too surprised to do anything but endure the unexpected kiss, Raj’s mind reeled with confusion. Then the terrorist playfully bit his lip and backed off with a wide grin.
“Sheeva!” the real Garen called from the corridor outside.
“Coming!” Sheeva growled, before giving Raj a wink. “We should do this again sometime.”
Then she dropped him to the floor and strode away without another word, her heavy bootsteps echoing behind her.
Raj watched her go in amazement, massaging his throat with one cybernetic hand. Then he turned his gaze to the open vault door and looked at the holographic map of the drop ship. Every single coalition icon was flashing red.
“I’m the only one left,” he thought with a chill. “I have to go after them.”
He quickly pushed himself to his feet, ready to attack once again, then his gaze settled on his unfortunate partner, Vick, who lay in a still-spreading puddle of his own, dark blood.
The grisly scene quickly killed off any urge Raj had to go after Garen and he was suddenly paralysed with indecision.
He lowered his gaze to his battered cybernetic arms, certain the Coalition would take them back if he didn’t at least try to stop Garen, but that wasn’t his only concern.
“Are they worth my life?” he thought wretchedly.
He wanted to do what he was being paid to do. He also wanted to keep these amazing arms. And he definitely wanted to be the one to finally bring Garen Maertikey to justice and end his reign of terror. But after seeing what the terrorist was capable of, Raj wasn’t sure he would ever be ready to play at this level of the game.
“So this is what it feels like to be a helpless ration container,” he mumbled, sliding back down the wall until he was sitting again. “Well... if it means I never cross paths with the most dangerous man in the solar system and his crazy girlfriend, I think I can do without arms for a while. I just hope that’s all the Coalition decides to take.”
A note from the author.
Thank you for reading! This is the second of three short stories leading up to the novel ‘Jupiter – Illusions of Faith’. One more to come!
I hope you enoyed your second foray into the world of Jupiter. It is a brutal world, but even the most brutal of realities has room for a bit of romance and even humour.
You can buy the ebook version of ‘Jupiter - Illusions of Faith’ here or find more free content on my website at www.kynanwaterford.com.au.
I’d love to hear what you think of my short stories, so please leave a comment on my facebook page at www.facebook.com/KynanWaterfordAuthor or tweet me @KynanWaterford.
Wishing you and your imagination all the best,
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On Guard Page 2
