by M. R. Forbes
“We have a situation.”
22
“Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit,” Bastion said, looking out across Steel Town from the rooftop.
“You can say that again,” Benhil said beside him.
“Shit.”
He backed away from the roof, running toward the stairs. “Gant, there are at least five hundred assholes coming this way.”
“Roger,” Gant replied. “I’m closing the gates.”
“That ought to hold them for at least two minutes.”
“Every second counts.”
“What the frag are we going to do?”
“Ruby,” Gant said. He waited a few seconds. “Ruby? Come in.”
“Sorry, but your little sex synth isn’t going to help you,” Gilliam said over the comm.
“Gilliam, you fat fragging toad, what the hell did you do?” Benhil said.
“It ain’t personal. The General’s offered me ten million for each of you that dies, and I don’t even have to be the one to do it. Don’t worry about the synth; I’m not going to hurt her. At least, not in any way she won’t like.”
“The General?” Bastion said.
“Fragging Thraven,” Gant replied.
“I’m ready for a few more shits,” Benhil said.
Bastion heard gunfire in the distance. Queenie.
“Just so you know,” Gant said to Gilliam. “Whether I die or not, I’m going to kill you first.”
The way the Gant said it gave Bastion a chill. He needed to be more careful with his teasing.
“We. We’ll see about that,” Gilliam said, clearly frightened by the threat.
“Nerd,” Gant said. “Take a look in that last round of crates and see if there’s anything we can use.”
“Aye, sir,” Erlan replied.
Bastion reached the warehouse floor. Gant was running back in from the outside near the gate. The hopper was resting on the ground, the back hatch open. He could see Erlan inside, prying open the containers.
“Got some grenades, sir,” Erlan shouted.
“Bring them out,” Bastion said.
He heard shouting from the gates. Then he heard a motor. Then he heard something crash into them.
“They’re trying to ram their way through,” Jequn said, appearing on top of the shuttle, looking out.
“Are there any launchers for those grenades?” Bastion asked.
“No, sir,” Erlan replied, dropping the container at the base of the shuttle.
Bastion leaned in, picking two of them up. Fragmentation grenades. Cheap shit, but volatile cheap shit. “Jester, grab a few and help me make some noise.”
“Roger,” Jester said, dipping into the crate.
Gant caught up to them. “That isn’t going to be enough.”
“It’s a start,” Bastion said. “It might scare them.”
Another crash, this one was different.
“Gate’s down,” Jequn said.
“Take this,” Benhil said, tossing his rifle up to her.
She caught it, vanishing over the edge of the hopper. A moment later a shot rang out. Then another. Then another.
Bastion looked past the transport. The vehicle that had smashed the gate was veering off to the side and slowing to a stop, its driver dead. Jequn was a good shot.
“Fire in the hole,” Bastion yelled, tapping the top of one of the grenades to activate it and hurling it from his position. It landed a hundred meters away, exploding ahead of the incoming mob and slowing their approach. Bullets started pinging off the hopper, and he ducked back behind it.
“Not enough,” Benhil said.
“Not nearly,” Bastion agreed. “Thanks for bringing us here, by the way. It’s a lovely city, except for the fact that it’s filled with shitbags who want to kill us.”
“How was I supposed to know Thraven owned Steel Town?”
“I’m getting the distinct impression Thraven owns everything.”
“I found some rifles,” Erlan said.
Bastion looked. The pilot was holding one of them up. It was an older model, but he would take what he could get. “Ammo?”
Erlan reached into the container, grabbed a magazine, and slapped it in. Then he threw it to Bastion.
“Fire in the hole,” Benhil said, tossing another grenade out. Screams followed as it exploded ahead of the targets outside.
Erlan threw Benhil a rifle, and then assembled another and left it on top of the hopper for Jequn.
Bastion looked around. Where the frag was Gant?
“Abandoning ship, freak-monkey?” he asked, getting annoyed that the Gant was missing, and then immediately regretting his choice of words. Hadn’t he just told himself to be more careful?
“I’ll let it slide due to the heat of battle,” Gant said. “I’m downstairs. Count to sixty and then join me there.”
“What for?”
“Just do it, Imp.”
Jequn’s head appeared over the hopper. “There are more coming. It seems like half the damn city. They’re moving mining vehicles ahead for cover.”
Armored mining vehicles. Frag.
“Keep shooting,” Bastion said, counting the seconds in his head. What was Gant doing?
He leaned out past the ship, getting a look at the enemy force. A lot of them were backing up, staying away while the second round moved into position with the armored craft. They were regular folk, not soldiers, even if most of them were armed. The things individuals would do for a little bit of money. What the hell were they even going to spend it on around here?
“Nerd,” Gant said. “Get the hopper ready to go. I want everyone inside in fifteen.”
“Aye, sir,” Erlan said. He immediately pounded on the top of the ship. “Cherub, we’re bugging out in fifteen.”
“Imp, did you forget how to count?” Gant said. “I’m up to sixty-three.”
He was only on fifty-eight. Damn it. He turned and sprinted down the ramp into the underground storage space. He didn’t see Gant right away.
“Where are you?”
“The Devil.”
Bastion looked over at the starfighter. Gant was on one of the wings, doing something to the mechanicals there.
“I thought you said that thing wouldn't fly?”
“I never said it wouldn’t fly. I said it was shot.”
“What the hell does shot mean, then?”
“It isn’t combat ready.”
“So what are we going to use it for?”
“Combat.”
Bastion reached the fighter. “No offense, but what are you barking about?”
The canopy over the cockpit slid back. Gant closed the panel on the wing and climbed in. “I think I fixed one of the pulse cannons, and I believe we have half power to the main thrusters. It’s going to be like trying to redirect a starship by bouncing off the interior walls, but you think you’re a good pilot.”
“I know I’m a good pilot,” Bastion said, climbing in. “Move aside.”
“It’s a single-seater,” Gant said. “And the hopper is already leaving.”
“What?”
Gant leaned forward to let Bastion slide into the pilot’s seat. Then he sat back on his lap.
“Try not to get too excited,” Gant said.
“Frag you,” Bastion replied. “Queenie never hears about this; you got me?”
Gant chittered in reply. “Let’s go.”
Bastion took the stick with his right hand, using his left hand to work the secondary controls. He tapped a few buttons, and the canopy closed, a HUD appearing against it. He tapped a few more and then slid his fingers forward, adjusting thrust. The fighter began to slide forward on its skids.
“I thought you said half power?” Bastion said. “We’ll be lucky if we can get this bitch off the ground.”
“I thought you were a good pilot?”
Bastion manipulated the controls, trying to find a balance between thrust and anti-gravity. Neither of the systems was working optimally, probably becau
se the reactor behind them wasn’t putting out max power.
“We might need to lose a few kilos,” he said suggestively.
“You’re free to stay behind. Nerd, what’s your status?”
“We’re up and away, sir. It’s a fragging mess on the ground. There have to be two thousand tangos down there. Maybe more.”
“Do you see Queenie and Okay?”
“Aye, sir. It looks like she’s holding court in the center of town, but I think she could use some backup.”
“We’ll be on our way as soon as I can get this fragger going,” Bastion said.
He fiddled with the controls a little more. The Devil jerked forward, the power suddenly making it to the thrusters that hadn't been there moments before. Gant was shoved back into him, and he was shoved back into his seat as the fighter slid up the ramp and out into the warehouse, the momentum putting them into the air. He held the stick, pointing it sharply at the ground and just barely getting them under the upper edge of the building and out.
“Hmm,” Gant said. “Must have been a kink in one of the transmission conduits. I should have thought of that.”
The Devil screamed out and into the sky, bypassing the reactive fire that came up from the ground as they passed.
“Queenie, this is Imp. Prepare to be impressed.”
23
Abbey watched as Phlenel’s body compacted, her gelatinous structure compressing like a spring, sending her launching forward when she released. She powered into a line of residents, the claws on her hands digging deep into them, their bullets passing through her, leaving holes that were quickly knit back together, her shape reforming.
Her bot trailed behind her, firing at the attackers nearby, accurately striking them in rapid succession, and quickly validating the Hurshin as an accomplished fighter.
“She’s making you look bad,” Pik said beside her.
Abbey glanced over at him, and then called on the Gift. She didn’t want to, but they were out in the open, and half the residents who had redirected toward them were armed.
The bullets came in, striking the invisible wall she put up ahead of them, the Gift churning beneath her flesh. She felt her anger flaring, some of it intentional, some beyond logic. These people were reacting to the promise of a lot of money, a promise of a better life, maybe even a promise to get off this shitty rock. Even so, she was furious with them for the very idea that they would try to harm her or her team. She had heard what Gilliam said about Ruby. She was going to be sure to kill him before Gant got the chance.
“This way,” she said, bouncing toward a group of opponents, with Pik running beside her.
She let go of the Gift as she reached them, coming in hard with the Uin, slashing one of the attackers across the chest, ducking under a clumsy punch, spinning and kicking, letting the softsuit power the blow and resisting the temptation of the Blood. It was more than enough, anyway, sending the man tumbling back and into the second tango.
Pik roared beside her, using his new hand to stab one of the attackers, lifting him and throwing him back, turning and grabbing another with his bare hand and shoving him away. He ducked down as bullets started flying overhead, trying to hit him above the smaller individuals surrounding them. He fought from his knees, his reach long enough to keep most of the residents back.
Abbey reached out with the Gift, pulling a gun from the hands of one of the attackers before he could shoot Pik with it, turning it around and sending it back and into his head. She caught a punch in her free hand, turning the man’s wrist until it cracked, and then elbowing him to shove him back. She looked out again, finding Phlenel coming their way, her bot still clearing a path, hitting only the armed attackers while she took care of the others. She saw the Hurshin’s mock-tail curl and lash out, spearing one of the mob and throwing him to the ground. Another tango stabbed her with a large knife, the blade getting stuck as the cells around it condensed and held it. Phlenel punched him in the face, knocking him down. The blade fell out of her without leaving a mark.
They continued into the fray, the density of the attackers continuing to grow and adding to the chaos. The disorganization only made it easier for Abbey, Pik, and Phlenel. They stood in the center of the masses, knocking aside all comers, keeping them from landing any serious blows. Phlenel’s bot ran out of ammunition, and it returned the guns to the compartments at its sides, switching to using its appendages to make quick, hard jabs.
“Queenie, this is Imp. Prepare to be impressed.”
Abbey smiled. “I’m prepared.”
She looked up, spotting the hopper a kilometer or two above them. She scanned the sky, finding the Devil a moment later. Gant had said it wouldn’t fly? Had he managed to fix it?
A heavy rumble interrupted the thought.
“Oh, shit,” Pik said beside her.
She spun around. A large borer had rounded the corner and was heading toward them, surrounded by armed residents using it as cover.
She put up her hands as the crowd parted around them, giving the machine space to get through and the attackers a lane to shoot in. Their bullets hit a new invisible barrier, smacking against it and dropping to the ground.
“I said I’m prepared,” Abbey repeated.
She clenched her jaw, angry that she had to use the Gift again. Angry that she was going to change faster. The thoughts only made her more angry. So was Bastion. What the hell was taking so long?
Then the lane ahead of them lit up in bright flashes of blue light, tracer light flowing with the laser pulses from the Devil’s cannon. The blasts spread across the street, burning into the boring machine and the attackers around it. The fighter flashed overhead, making a long, slow turn to come back their way.
“She steers like she’s in fragging glue,” Bastion said.
“Not that impressive,” Abbey replied.
“Queenie, I’m coming in for pickup,” Erlan said.
Abbey looked behind them. The hopper was coming down recklessly fast at their backs.
“Fall back,” she said, retreating toward it. Pik and Phlenel did the same.
The Devil appeared nearby again, coming at the boring machine from the side. It unleashed another round of laser pulses, the energy spearing into the armor and hitting something useful, causing it to smoke heavily and slow down. The residents of Steel Town were becoming more cautious, using the buildings as cover and taking pot shots at them. A round hit the ground beside her. Another grazed Pik’s shoulder. He put his metal hand up over his face to protect it.
Abbey growled, spreading the Gift around them, protecting them inside a shielded bubble. The Devil came back a third time, Bastion spreading laser fire around them, keeping the residents back. The hopper hit the ground, shaking it with the impact, the rear hatch already open. Jequn and Benhil stood on either side, rifles up and ready.
Abbey dropped the shield. They started shooting, forcing their attackers to get behind cover or get hit. Pik charged onto the hopper, with Phlenel and her bot right behind. Abbey backed away, her entire body throbbing. She wanted to kill them. All of them. She wanted them to pay for challenging her. For trying to hurt her.
“Queenie,” Jequn said. “Let it go. Remember whose side you’re on.”
She heard the words. She turned and ran into the ship. The ramp began to close as the hopper rose into the sky.
She sat on the side of it, closing her eyes, trying to calm the Gift. “I’m in control,” she said, reminding it of the fact. “You do what I say.”
The hopper bounced and lurched before smoothing out, rising above the range of the enemy fire.
“Rendezvous at the top of the ravine,” Gant said.
“Roger,” Erlan replied.
Abbey got to her feet. She looked over at Phlenel. The Hurshin was changing shape, losing the demonic look she had taken, replacing it with a smaller iteration of Pik, minus the genitals.
“Hey, nice,” Pik said, noticing the change. “Too big to keep, right?”
“Not really,” the bot said. “But it is unnecessary.”
“Maybe for you. Where’d you learn to fight like that, anyway?”
“I’ve watched many streams. And taken lessons.”
“But you’ve never been in a real fight before?”
“I didn’t say that.”
The hopper touched down at the top of the ravine. The ramp lowered, and Abbey ran out. The Devil was coming to a stop nearby, the canopy opening. She noticed Gant climbing off Bastion’s lap and jumping down. She was going to give him shit for it; she just had to figure out how.
There was more important business to settle first.
“Cherub, Jester, secure the lift,” she said, pointing to the small station. “We don’t need them ferrying the assholes up here.”
“Roger,” Benhil said, heading for the lift.
Gant and Bastion joined up with them, and the remaining Rejects all moved toward the Faust.
“Gilliam,” Abbey said, using Ruby’s comm. “I suggest you surrender.”
He didn’t reply.
“Gilliam?”
The Skink appeared at the entrance to the Faust, holding a gun to Ruby’s head.
“I’ll shoot her,” he said.
“Uh, yeah,” Bastion said. “Are you really that stupid? She’s a synth. Oh no. You shot her. We’ll just buy another one. Idiot.”
Abbey glanced over at Bastion. He wasn’t completely wrong. Except Ruby had been re-programmed as a military synth and had linked access to Olus that couldn’t be easily replaced.
“Yeah, go ahead,” Gant said. “Shoot it. We’ll wait.” He folded his arms.
Gilliam looked unsure.
“If you do, I’m going to kill you myself,” Abbey said, holding up her hand.
She let the Gift flow into it, just enough that a claw extended from her middle finger. Her control was getting better. Much better. Too bad it was going to make her insane.
Gilliam began shaking. The gun fell from his hand. Ruby elbowed him in the gut, and then turned and punched him in the face. He collapsed like a sack of shit.
“Asshole,” she said. She turned back to Abbey. “He had his cronies with him when he grabbed me. I was distracted by a message I received from Captain Mann.”
