New Face in Town
The vultures closed in.
Not real vultures of course, good honest carrion birds with a job to do. Not even rakk, vicious and vindictive in defence of their hive. No, vultures. You know the sort I mean. Men consumed by malice and fear, who preyed on others out of the weakness of their own souls. It was the ship that drew them in. A freighter had landed. A ship meant possibilities: of wealth, of loot, of women, drugs, weapons…fresh meat. So the vultures closed in, brutal men united only in hunger.
For a ship could mean anything, anything at all.
Baggage retrieved, Kali took stock of her surroundings. The spaceport was a relatively modern structure in good repair…emphasis on repair, with bullet-starred windows and walls betraying the scars of fire, acid and blast damage. Her nose twitched; the air was rank with adrenaline and fear, despite the presence of Hyperion security troops. Her fellow passengers, all executive or professional types, scurried for the shuttle train. Out on the landing pad, troopers and 'bots stood ready as wealth flowed into and out of the ship. In went the caskets of refined eridium. Out came food, medicine, the manufactured goods and weapons of a dozen worlds. Above all, the weapons.
The seemingly endless stream of weapon boxes coming off the ship caused her to go and examine more closely the brightly lit machine against the wall on the way to the port's exit. No, she wasn't mistaken; a weapon vending machine! Marcus Munitions Co.? What sort of world was this, where the resident's appetite for violence could support such a…unique business?
After a moment's thought, she smiled.
The squad leader watched her approach. Port security duty was a combination of nerves and exquisite boredom, and the woman coming towards him with an easy muscular stride was a delicious break in the routine. Middling height, dark hair bound in a ponytail, her khaki bodysuit revealed a strong, yet well-rounded form. The weapons at her side and the shield on her hip detracted nothing from her femininity. He moved to block her path to the exit.
"I don't recommend it ma'am. You should make your way over to the train." He gestured toward the terminal with his rifle, but found himself struck by her appearance as she turned her head for a moment to gaze at the city glittering in the distance at the end of the track. Young, though he couldn't place her age, green eyes and, and beautiful! He felt his thoughts grinding to a halt. "This…this aint no place for tourists."
She looked back at him (so green, emerald stars!) with a merry smile. "Thanks for the thought my lovely," she said, her voice deep and soft, "but my business lies elsewhere." She leaned forward and kissed his helmeted cheek. With a wave to the rest of the stunned squad, she shouldered her way out the door into the desert air of Pandora.
The predators were poised and ready to strike. The shanty town that had grown up around the port provided plenty of cover. Bandits, savages and those who had forgotten their humanity coiled themselves for the assault. Less than an army, more than a rabble, they watched the passengers and cargo hungrily. It lacked only a spark to set them off.
The thing that had once been a man shambled down the dusty street. The sonic boom of the arriving freighter had roused him from his nightmare-filled torpor, the burning simplicity of what passed for his waking mind welcoming the harsh sunlight. Sleep was where the crimes and passions of the past welled up, to haunt and terrorise and empower. The waking world was for the eternal agonising now, the satisfaction of hunger, the consummation of desire. The spaceport reared before him, the reflected sunlight bellowing in his ears in a hundred voices. He roared defiance at the tumult. Someone emerged from the building; a woman! His mind reeled; her every movement smelt of cinnamon and fresh-cut grass, the sound of every footfall a shimmering rainbow of colour. She saw him. Desire and action were one and the same to him. He sprang forward, axe raised to destroy, hand outstretched to embrace.
Kali was looking forward to accessing the Catch - a – Ride system. Scooter and his creation were notorious across the worlds. Moments after stepping out the door however, Pandora asserted itself. A huge gaunt man stood on the other side of the street, naked to the waist, a buzz-axe in his right hand. His chest was heaving, mouth agape…and he was staring at her as if she were Salvation personified.
He moved, and so did she. He was still in mid-leap, axe swinging, when she had her revolver in hand, targeting reticle active and centred on him. She felt the familiar tingle as her enhanced nervous system came online. As targets went, he wasn't much of a challenge. Large and powerful yes, but he came straight on without any attempt at evasion. His face filled the reticle and she had time enough to see that he seemed to be crying. How odd.
She fired.
Kali fired…and all hell broke loose. The huge handgun roared and bucked and the heavy bullet took the madman square in the face. As he stumbled to his knees, the revolver's echo seemed to multiply indefinitely, a torrent of gunfire answering the call of her weapon. Almost immediately, her shield took multiple hits, hammering it down to half strength. Five…six, no, eight shooters, three on the roof with sniper rifles, five more erupting from a structure down the street, making a rush for the spaceport entrance.
Kali unlimbered her assault rifle and emptied a full magazine at the oncoming bandits. As living flame washed over each of them, she spun, leapt and rolled, changing mags as she did so. Coming up to one knee she fired again. Two attackers fell, never to rise, but the other three were on her. She triggered her combat system. Nano-scale circuitry energised genetically engineered muscle, anchored firmly to a reinforced skeleton. Instantly her attackers were caught up in a whirling dance of death. Kali leapt and struck with superhuman strength and speed, avoiding their attacks as her own blows pierced and crushed them; three men dead in as many seconds. Still in the grip of Augmentation, she vaulted 10 feet straight up, got line-of-sight on one of the snipers and tore him apart with a stream of incendiary rounds. The other two ducked behind cover. As she landed lightly in the dust, the combat system automatically powered down before its overpowering energy could damage even her enhanced body.
An assault rifle roared and gore spattered her from head to foot. She span to find the bullet-riddled psycho she had shot slumping to the ground, a corpse at last. In the spaceport entrance, the Hyperion squad leader waved a yellow gauntleted fist. "A gentleman would have aimed the blood away from a lady!" she laughed and blew him another kiss. Sparing one last glance at the remains of the giant maniac, she shook her head at her own carelessness and then went looking for those snipers.
Three minutes later, she found herself on a rooftop with a fine view of hell, Pandora-style. The orderly high-tech layout of spaceport was now a backdrop of stunning contrast for a seething mass of men engaged in blood-drenched combat. Dozens of bandits were tearing at the security troops, the field littered with the ravaged carcasses of both men and Hyperion security 'bots. Lines of tracer sketched a lacework of death and explosions hammered the air. Men flayed each other with every instrument of modern war…and where guns and rockets failed, knives, fists and teeth settled matters. The bandits steadily ground down the security troops, seeming to care nothing for their own losses, screaming and laughing no matter whether they were killing or dying. Behind the front line, bandits looted weapon boxes or stripped the dead. It resembled a feeding frenzy of sharks more than a battlefield.
Kali weighed the unfolding combat in her mind. It seemed clear that she would have to step in. The bandits were on the brink of seizing not only the freighter and its cargo, but the spaceport itself. That would create an unacceptable delay in her agenda. On the bright side, it seemed certain that every savage for miles around was here for the kill. Taking them out of the picture would make her travel upcountry much more relaxed.
"All right then."
She kicked the body of the bandit gunman she'd chased here off the roof, kneeled and put her favourite toy to her shoulder. As always, she drew comfort from the custom-made sniper rifle's smooth contours and perfect balance. It had started out as an S&S weapon, somewhat to her father's disgust. Scores of hours of his expert labour had made it unique, tailored to Kali's physique and preferences. In the end he had been sufficiently impressed by its performance in her hands that he had added the beautiful silver wire inlay that she now caressed.
She assessed the battlefield. The remnants of the Hyperion force were sheltering in the spaceport terminal and the bandits were readying themselves to storm the building. She marked the position of leader types and heavy weapon carriers. Kali selected her first target. She breathed in…paused…
She breathed out.
Her first shots rang out faster than heartbeats. Bandits scattered instinctively as four of their number fell lifeless, heads blown to bloody ruin. Still the shots came, slower now, as Kali sought out those who had not found sufficient cover. By the time the 10 round magazine was empty, she had seven fewer bandits to worry about.
She reloaded and gave the weapon a pat. "Thanks Dad," she whispered.
She was reasonably happy with her shooting, but the bandits had immediately laid down an annoyingly effective return fire. Two rocket launchers, in particular, were rapidly making her position uninhabitable. The rapid succession of shock and incendiary detonations amidst the hail of bullets and buzz-axes hammered her body and shield and made effective return fire impossible. It looked like the long range phase of the game was over.
Drawing three incendiary grenades, she threw them over the parapet blind, relying on memory for the placement. The rolling triple detonation of the MIRVs evoked a scream of pain and, more importantly, a momentary suppression of the incoming fire as the powerful concussions rolled over the field and maintenance stores erupted in flame and thick greasy smoke. As the thunder echoed and the heavy smoke rose, Kali vaulted the parapet and hit the street eight metres below at a run, a blast SMG already in her hands.
The going was easy at first, as the bandits resumed their fire at her previous position. Sprinting through the shattered perimeter fence, she surprised two ragged attackers and dispatched them with a short burst to the head each. Then, a trio of half-naked savages burst from amongst some shipping containers, laughing like a choir of the damned. Kali walked a stream of bullets up the body of the first lunatic, the explosive rounds chewing at his flesh. She changed mags, parried the second man's axe with her forearm, thrust the barrel in his gaping mouth and fired. As his head disappeared in a cloud, she staggered under the assault of the third attacker. Her vision was filled with flashing warnings as her shield failed under the axe's ferocious impact. With the spinning blade screaming in her ears she kicked him once, twice for good measure between the legs and emptied the whole magazine into his thrashing body as he kept trying to hack at her.
"Full marks for enthusiasm at least," she muttered. She reloaded and, as her shield reached full charge, brought her combat system online. The targeting and vector information, the weapon status data, all settled into her consciousness like the embrace of an old friend. Looking around she saw more figures approaching, firing and cursing as they came. Clowns! Time to show the locals that perverted passion does not a warrior make.
She moved.
The squad leader emerged warily from the terminal. The spaceport was comparatively silent now, broken only by the soft rumble of flames here and there. Compared to the deafening roar of every weapon type known to man only a few minutes ago, the difference was startling. The expanse between the terminal building and the towering side of the freighter was now a veritable valley of death. Dozens of bodies, body parts and debris of all kinds covered the tortured concrete surface. He couldn't really comprehend what had happened. He removed his helmet and let it fall.
"Hey, my friend, where's the nearest shower?"
Whirling to his left, he was stunned to see a woman, that woman, emerge from the smoke. She was covered in blood and soot, looking like an avatar of battle. She walked up to him, the same memorable smile on her lips.
"Are you ok? What…" Gesturing at her, at the wreckage around them, he stammered to a halt as she drew up in front of him. Then she looked around, a matter-of-fact expression on her face. He was finally grasping that she was responsible for all of…this. She looked back at him, and her face was filled now with a simple delight.
"No need to look so surprised friend," she said, patting his shoulder. "This is what we'd call a quiet day on Promethea!"