“Back off, Monk,” yelled Derrick.
Patrick looked over and saw the man already firing at the portal. At that angle he didn’t think the rounds would even come out of the other end. He raised his shield and backed away, just as the next three of the beasts came through the wormhole. Derrick got two of them with automatic fire, while Patrick skewered the third. The bodies were starting to pile up, and the foul smelling blood was flowing in slippery pools.
Patrick moved back, putting some distance between himself and the bodies. Three more jumped through, and Derrick was able to drop two of them to the floor. The third looked over at Derrick with a snarl and the weapon mounted on its back sent a couple of objects towards the ex-marine.
“Derrick, look out,” yelled Patrick, turning his head at the same time as he lashed out at the demon dog with his sword. His blade sliced through the legs of the creature, which let out a piteous whimpering sound as it fell to the floor on bleeding stumps. Patrick brought the sword back to put the creature out of its misery, but was interrupted by the next three to come through the gate.
There was nothing Derrick could do about the grenades that hit within ten meters of him. The explosions lifted the man into the air and threw him twenty meters further down the hall, to lie in a heap.
“Derrick,” yelled Alyssa, running towards her fallen comrade. She snapped some shots off behind her toward the gate, and Patrick ducked and cringed as the shots came closer to him than to the foe.
Then Patrick was too busy fighting, and the three Maurids fired into his shield while three more came through the portal. He knew he had to take them out, and quickly, or they would build up the numbers to overwhelm him. He started to move forward, when the surface of the wormhole rippled and three more warriors came through.
Patrick stared at the newcomers in surprise. Two were Maurids, moving forward on four limbs while the guns on their backs tracked onto to him. The other was a human, a big man in skin suit and helmet, a large pistol in one hand, a sword that was similar to Patrick’s in the other. It was a different shape, but the same material, and one he had seen before.
“You,” yelled Patrick, feeling the rage rise up in him.
“Yes,” said the man with a cold smile. “Me.” And he raised his pistol and fired.
* * *
Alyssa started running toward Derrick the moment the man hit the ground. She glanced back at Patrick, who was still on his feet and giving a good account of himself, and decided that her long time compatriot needed her aid the most. Shots cracked by her head, and she was thankful there were no beam weapons among the Maurid troops. At least so far. Shadow seemed confused as to what to do, but thankfully was sticking close to her.
Alyssa slid to the ground by her partner, relieved that his chest was still rising and falling. Relief turned to rage as a splattering of rounds tore into his body, one crashing through the faceplate of his helmet and smashing his face, and obviously the brain behind it. She felt a twinge of guilt through the anger. She had led him to this place, and his death was on her shoulders. She dismissed the thought for now. There were other things to do if she was to survive.
Alyssa rolled over the body of her partner and brought her own rifle to bear on the portal area. The sickening smack of rounds hitting Derrick made her clamp her jaw in rage, and she started firing at the Maurids at the portal. She saw that Patrick was backing up, and that a man that had to be Chung was walking toward him and firing a pistol, the rounds bouncing off the ancient metal shield. And then she had to turn her attention back to the advancing Maurids, while another trio stepped through the portal.
* * *
Patrick backed away, keeping the shield between himself and the Colonel. The bullets sprang away, losing almost all momentum to the metal of the shield and falling to the floor. Patrick could see that some of the Maurids, and there were over a dozen of them now on their feet in the hall, were moving to flank him, while others started down the hall, firing at Alyssa and Derrick. A glance showed him that Derrick was down, and the pool of red liquid running from under his body did not look good.
“That is a marvelous defensive instrument,” said Chung as he dropped the magazine out of the magnetic pistol. The sword in his right hand did not seem to hinder him in the least as he pulled out another magazine and pushed it into the gun, then pointed it at Patrick.
The Monk made his move then, bringing the shield out to the side and slicing forward with his sword. The blade sheered into the barrel of the pistol and destroyed the weapon before Chung could pull the trigger. The Colonel cursed under his breath and dropped the useless weapon to the floor. He grasped his sword in both hands and started forward.
“You are a coward, hiding behind that damned shield,” growled Chung as he swung his blade at the Monk.
Patrick caught the blade on his shield and swung back with his own sword. He was fully into Fae state now, the world, including himself, moving in slow motion. The Colonel dropped his left hand from the sword and swung it out to intersect Patrick’s blade in a shower of sparks. The Colonel dropped his left hand to his belt and pulled a foot long dagger from its sheath. Patrick’s eyes widened at the sight of that weapon, made of the same gleaming metal as the swords and shield.
“This shield is the only thing stopping your demons from shooting me,” growled Patrick, swinging his blade again, aiming for the head of the man.
“You are a damned primitive,” growled Chung, glaring at Patrick as he executed a complicated attack with his sword. “They are aliens, not demons.”
The multiple feint and attack came in at Patrick, the Monk moving his blade easily to stop each strike, then bringing the shield down to intersect the upthrust of the dagger. A couple of shots cracked by, and Patrick executed a back flip away from the Colonel, his shield coming up to cover as his blade flicked out and killed another of the demon creatures.
Men had started coming through the portal now, and Patrick saw that he couldn’t stand here against such numbers. He flung the shield over his back and grabbed the strap to hold it in place, then took off at a sprint away from the gate. “Run,” he yelled to Alyssa, who was now firing from behind a heavy planter. The woman nodded and took off. Patrick wondered for an instant what had happened to Shadow, and he hoped the cat was OK.
He was aware of something on his heels, and didn’t have to look back to know that it was the Colonel on his tail. The Monk leapt over the bench and twisted in the air, shifting his shield back to his arm and intercepting the blade that was heading for him. He brought his own blade in from the side, and Chung brought the dagger in line to stop it. Patrick landed lightly on his feet and went onto the offensive while they were still separated from the other troops for a moment. Weapons clanged off of each other for a few seconds before Chung staggered back, a bloody line cut through the front of his right thigh.
“I’m going to kill you, Monk,” said Chung through gritted teeth.
“I thought I was valuable to you,” said Patrick with a smile, back peddling in a reverse run to put more space between himself and the troops, who were still pouring out of the portal.
“You were,” yelled the Colonel, running after him with a limp that didn’t seem to detract any from his speed. “But I think it would be better just to clone something from your cells. Then I wouldn’t have to deal with your annoying personality.”
The Colonel leapt through the air, sword coming up, then down, to strike sparks from the Monk’s blade. Chung brought his knife blade around, and Patrick swung his sword back around to knock away the blade, then sliced back in, catching Chung on the chest to inflict another superficial but painful wound.
“You are not my match,” said Patrick, looking steady eyed at the Colonel, his breath comfortable, while that of the other man was heavy.
“I was before,” said the Colonel, his angry eyes staring back at the monk.
“That was then,” said Patrick. “This is now.”
“I still have enough men to k
ill you, primitive,” growled the Theocrat officer, his sword tip low, starting to step forward.
And that is why I want you close enough to me to prevent them from shooting, thought the Monk, glancing past the Colonel to the score of troops that were forming a far half circle, weapons ready. As he looked at them four more men stepped through the gate with a long box held between them.
Chung looked back at the portal for an instant, then back to Patrick with a cold smile on his face. “That is for your dead body, so that we can preserve your cells for the cloning. Then we will have all the compliant servants we need to operate the ancient tech we will find here.”
“Maybe they can use it to preserve your dead flesh when I am through with you,” said Patrick, his sword blocking the thrust of the man, then coming back into an overhead strike that Chung intercepted with an overhand cross of sword and dagger.
Chung stepped back, his eyes darting frantically, as if looking for an opening. “You know that your brother is dead,” he said to the Monk. “I killed him with my bare hands, snapping his skinny neck.”
“And that is a crime you will pay for,” said Patrick, feeling anger beginning to rise. He said a quick mantra and calmed himself, knowing that passion would not serve him in this situation.
“What you don’t know is that I brought him back to life,” said the sneering Colonel. “So he is still my prisoner, and he will suffer for your resistance.”
Patrick felt his heart sink. He should be happy that Sean was still alive, but it meant he was still in the hands of this fanatic sadist. I have to get him back, somehow. But how And he couldn’t do anything that put his world in jeopardy, even if it was his brother.
He closed his eyes for just a moment to calm himself, and could feel the Colonel moving forward, hear the sound of a sword swishing through the air. And he opened his eyes and moved his own blade, stopping the man’s strike, a slight smile on his face as he looked calmly into the eyes of the other man.
Chapter Twenty-eight
Rounds snapped around Alyssa as she ran toward the portal and into the wormhole. Nothing followed her through. She didn’t think they had the angle to get their shots through the portal, and she was happy to find that she had been correct. Then all happy thoughts left her as she thought about her predicament.
Why’d you have to die, Derrick? she thought, sitting down on the soft ground and putting her face in her hands. That was a risk of their profession, but she had always thought it would be easier to buy it herself than to lose someone under her. It had happened before, and it had hurt. And it hurt this time.
And she had abandoned Patrick, which was even worse. She had taken him as a lover. She wasn’t sure that she loved the man, though he had a lot of fine qualities, not least of which he was really good as a bed partner. But no matter her feelings she had brought him here by scooping him up from his moon. Never mind that he would have died if they had left him, she still felt responsible for him.
The sounds of birds singing caught her attention and dragged her out of her depressed funk. She looked up into the golden leaved trees to see dozens of the small, colorful birds, so unlike any she had ever seen on her worlds. The scent of the flowering trees and shrubs came soothing to her nostrils. She looked at her internal clock and was surprised at how little time had passed while she was out of action.
Alyssa attempted to contact Shadow, afraid that she would find the cat missing, and in worse shape than her, if not dead. To her relief she saw the hall through the eyes of the feline, who seemed to be in good shape, though frightened by all the noise and activity going on around him. She sent her thoughts to the quantumly entangled animal, and looked through his eyes at the gathered troops. She honed in for a moment on the fight going on between Patrick and Chung, relief flooding her mind that the Monk was still alive. Then she looked again over the disposition of the soldiers and formed a plan of attack.
I might get killed, she thought, and she probably would. But she had a mission to accomplish, and it wouldn’t be if Chung got Patrick. Without further delay she prepped herself for combat and jumped back into the wormhole.
* * *
Nathan Chung, for the first time in a long time, was feeling doubt. The Monk, who had been so easy to beat the first time they had met, was now the formidable warrior. He was faster and more balanced than before, and Chung couldn’t think of a reason why that should be in such a short time. No matter the reason, Chung was hurt, with stinging wounds to thigh and chest. And he was tiring and out of breath, while the Monk looked just as cool and rested as he had at the start of the fight. I need to find a way to strike through his defenses, thought the Colonel, though for the life of him he couldn’t figure out how to do that.
“Get men in position to take him down,” he subvocalized through his mic.
“But we might hit you, sir,” came the response of the Lieutenant who was on scene.
“I don’t care if I get hit,” growled Chung low in his throat. “Just don’t give me a mortal wound and I’ll be alright with it. Now…”
“We’re being attacked,” came the call over the circuit. Chung recognized the voice of the Captain, who was still in the other hall, and a chill ran up his spine.
“Attacked?” said Chung, keeping his eyes locked on the monk. “By what?”
“The closed wormhole reopened and robots swarmed out,” said the Captain, his breath coming ragged through the com. “We…”
And the transmission was cut short in what must have been a catastrophic hit on the officer. Someone opened the damned wormhole, thought Chung. The opportunities of capturing that tech almost overwhelmed his fear, until he remembered what control of that tech must mean for their unseen enemy.
And then he had no time for other thoughts as the Monk came in on the attack, and it took all of his concentration to keep up with the whirlwind that was trying to take his life.
* * *
Patrick knew that the battle was his. He was totally into Fae state, time slowed to his thoughts. He was aware of everything going on in the hall. The position of all the soldiers. Shadow looking out from some shrubbery, unnoticed by all but himself. The sweat running down the face of Chung as the man fought off his panic. The clashing of blades as the monk pushed the man backwards.
If only I could actually move in some kind of super speed, thought Patrick, again taking in the positions of the enemy. He knew he could kill the Colonel in an instant. But when he killed the Colonel the soldiers would open fire on him. And there was no way he was going to avoid all those projectiles and possibly beam weapons. No way to block them all, no way to dodge them all. And he would be a riddled corpse moments after the Colonel’s body hit the floor.
I also can’t let him win, he thought, taking another blow on his shield and purposely missing a swing that forced the Colonel back. He will die before I do. Of that I promise. And the thought went through his Fae enhanced mind that the Colonel had claimed his brother was still alive. What could he do for Sean? Letting himself be captured was not an option, not when Chung had promised him death, then rebirth as an army of puppets. But was there some way to get Sean out of the clutches of these evil people?
And then he noticed that the portal that Alyssa had disappeared into was rippling, and that portal was now far behind the enemy soldiers. I knew she wouldn’t leave her cat, was his first thought. And when she popped through, throwing a pair of grenades with each hand among the enemy who had their backs to her, he went in for the kill.
* * *
Chung heard the shouting behind him just before the concussion waves of grenades going off stunned him for a moment. When he recovered he saw the sword coming in, the Monk obviously not affected by the overpressure. The blade hit his neck and he felt a momentary pain before the room started tumbling around him. His last conscious thought was that the room was not tumbling. It was his severed head, spinning through the air. His last sight was of his body below tumbling down, and the Monk jumping over that body wi
th his shield held ready. And then all was darkness.
* * *
Alyssa spread the four grenades out in an almost perfect pattern. As they hit the floor they exploded, blasting out and killing at least ten of the Theocracy troops outright. Most the others were stunned, and she pulled the barrel of her rifle up and squeezed the trigger, sending a quick burst into one soldier, then another into the Maurid beside him.
A second Maurid was turning toward her, too far to the right for her to hit before he got his weapon to bear, when a streak of black came out of nowhere and leapt onto the back of the creature. Shadow’s claws, sharper than any natural feline weapons, ripped through the skin suit. The cat howled and leapt off, hitting the floor running and heading for another soldier, while the Maurid he had stung fell twitching to the floor. A Theocrat marine looked down at the spasming Maurid, then up in time to see Alyssa’s rifle flash, and then he was down.
She looked over and saw Patrick charging the remaining trio of upright troops, shield held up and sword back. It looked like one might be able to get a shot that would get past the shield. It looked that way until the black streak hit the man and claws raked down his face. The man screamed, dropped his weapon, and brought his hands up to his blinded eyes, just before the twitching took hold and he fell dying to the floor.
Patrick brought his sword up, across and down, cutting through the actions of the two weapons leveled at him. One soldier screamed as his forearm joined the weapons’ parts on the floor. With two quick flicks of the sword two headless bodies fell, their brain boxes rolling away.
“This way,” yelled Alyssa, waving Patrick over.
Shadow took off in a run toward his mistress. Patrick followed behind, his sword slicing through the back of a surviving Theocrat who was taking aim at the cat from the prone position the grenade had thrown him into.
Patrick was almost to the portal when shots cracked past his ears. He raised his shield and yelled at Alyssa, “Run. Get through and I’ll be right behind you.”
Theocracy: Book 1. Page 28
