The signal faded and got stronger several times, then the comm finally issued a strong burst of static and a voice cried, "I've found it! I found the Leviathan's Transport Pod!"
The voice read a set of coordinates off to its comrades while Chiana and Rygel's faces fell.
"Well, that's it," uttered the Hynerian. "They found us."
At the words, Berret's eyes snapped open. Chiana had never seen him operating as an Enforcer. When they'd first met he was in a state of confusion. Now she gave an involuntary shiver as their eyes met. There no longer stood her friend... she was looking into the dead eyes of a Shrike assassin.
Berret smoothly got to his feet and walked to the hatchway.
"Prepare yourselves," he said, his voice dull and unemotional as he wrapped a length of white cloth over the bottom half of his face so only his eyes showed. He cycled the hatch and without a further word disappeared out into the blowing snow. Rygel and Chiana took positions at the barricade they had erected earlier just inside the hatchway.
"That was frelling creepy," said Rygel, referring to Berret's transformation.
"...Yeah," breathlessly said the Nebari, having to agree.
"You don't suppose he'll go totally farhbot out there and not remember to stop the killing with just our un-welcomed visitors, do you?" he asked.
Stunned, Chiana looked at Rygel. "I dunno... I hadn't thought about that," she answered.
"Well, if he comes back and so much as looks cockeyed at me, I'm going to plant a pulse bolt... right... between... his... eyes!" Rygel finished by tapping the barrel of the pistol against the barricade with each word.
Chiana swallowed. "...Yeah," she said quietly, silently hoping it didn't come to that, but caressing the handle of her Pulse-rifle without thinking, and finding a degree of comfort in the action.
Somewhere outside they could hear the retro thrusters of ships firing for a landing.
"Here we go," she muttered.
John entered Command to find D'argo studying one of the control panels.
"So D'argo, any idea on how to get around this convoy?" he asked.
"No, Pilot says they're still moving too slowly and he doesn't want to take any chances on being spotted," D'argo answered. John sighed heavily and sat at one of the tables. He rested his head on his hands and stifled a yawn. D'argo walked over to him and sat next to his friend placing a hand on John's shoulder.
"What's the news on Aeryn? Will she be alright?" D'argo asked.
"Well, she's still unconscious, but that's because she's lost a lot of blood. Zhaan says she'll be all right. A little weak when she wakes up, but she'll be fine."
"I'm sorry I couldn't protect her, John," D'argo said sadly.
John raised his head to look at him. "You did everything you could. You got her back here. That's all that matters," D'argo smiled weakly at John's comment and they sat staring out the view-port for several microts. "Oh, and by the way, D'argo?"
"Yes, John?"
"Thank you."
"For what, John? I've done nothing to deserve your thanks," D'argo replied.
"You've saved Aeryn's life. That means more to me than you'll ever know, big guy. And you've been a good friend," John said as he stuck his hand out in a handshake gesture. D'argo took his friend's hand in his and they shook hands. "Now... let's find a way outta here. We have people to rescue." They both turned their attentions to the comms to figure out a way to get to the ice moon.
The two ships landed almost side by side. Berret watched the eight men work their way through snowdrifts that were almost waist deep at times. He had stuck to the ice packed crash trail the Pod had left. He could see that soon the men would come across it and then their traveling would become easier. He calculated their path and going down on all fours, his nose just mere hentas above the snow, he slithered into a position where they would pass close by him. Once there, he covered himself over with snow, not feeling the cold. In microts the wind and falling snow obliterated any sign he was there.
The group of men hit the ice trail and guided by a magnetic scanner, headed in the direction of the downed Pod. As they passed by him, the Shrike noted that they were armed with an assortment of pulse weapons; most appeared homemade or just of poor quality. The group was strung out, each man taking turns breaking a trail through the snow. Two came within hentas of stepping on the assassin. The last man was well behind the others, just having been replaced by another from his turn at plowing a path in the snow. As he drew even with Berret, the Shrike exploded from his hiding place. The beings eyes grew large behind his facemask at the sudden appearance of the apparition and the warning he was about shout die in his throat as serrated blades sheared through that part of his anatomy. The Shrike rolled the still dying body off to the side and began to dog the rest of the party. Following just close enough so that they looked only like dull shapes on the path ahead of him. Microns later they approached a section of the trail where both the sides of the route ran downhill. The last man turned and seeing the dark shape lagging behind the group waved him forward to catch up, believing he was the recently deceased member of squad. The Shrike picked up his pace and closed with the new target quickly. As he neared, the man turned to shout something to him over the howl of the wind and realized the person behind them wasn't part of the team.
He reacted quicker then the first man, getting a warning off and managing to raise his pulse rifle halfway across the front of his body before the Shrike's blades cut the cheap weapon in two and went on to bury themselves deep into his belly. The rifle discharged off to one side as it was destroyed, alerting the entire group. As one, they turned to discover the Shrike still holding up their comrade. The blades having pinned the man through part of the rifle's stock and the gun's sling, causing the Shrike trouble in disengaging them. They opened fire on the pair. Pulse bolts tore into the assassin's victim and pounded into his armor plates. As the plates absorbed the bolts energy, they turned from a metallic black to burnt-brown. Once struck by a pulse bolt the plates lost their ability to deflect energy until they could be ran through a molecular re-aligner and the molecules in the metal reorganized in the proper sequence. Berret freed his weapon from the man's body and a pulse bolt struck the armor covering his left thigh for the second time, blowing through the plate and his leg. Unbalanced, the Shrike tumbled along with the body down the right side of the hill, both becoming lost from sight in the blowing snow.
"Did we get him?" one brigand asked the others.
"No one can survive that many hits," replied the leader. "That must have been the bodyguard, the Boss told us about. That leaves the Hynerian and the little Nebari bitch all alone, and easy pickin's," he leered behind his mask. The first freebooter looked down the incline trying to see where the Shrike and their fellow group member had fallen.
"What about Norfolk?' he asked about the missing man.
"Frell him!" came the reply, "...one less cut to split the reward with. Now let's go."
Berret rolled the body off from on top of him and attempted to sit up. A bolt of agony shot through his wounded thigh and he hissed at the pain. Something was wrong; he should not have made that big of a mistake. His ingrained training and instincts were failing him. In the memories that Zhaan had helped bring back, he'd always carried off his 'missions' in a calm and efficient manner. This time, there were too many thoughts cluttering his mind and distracting him. He realized that the collar must have helped him in some way to focus on the course of action needed at the time. He almost chuckled as he came to the conclusion that being self-aware had its drawbacks. A nagging voice in the back of his mind itched to be heard. It was a dull, emotionless voice... something dark that wanted to be set free... something dark as the blackest pitch.
It was telling him, that it alone had the skills necessary to do what had to be done... if only he would turn it loose... give it control of his body again. Berret tried to ignore the voice, thinking he must be hallucinating; the cold and the pain from the wound must be getting to him. He removed the shattered piece of armor from his thigh and examined the wound. It wasn't good. It seemed it was too cold again for the microbes to begin repairing it... and he was slowly bleeding out.
He torn off some of the white strips of cloth and packed them as best as he could into his wound to stop the blood flow. He used the length of clothe he had covering his face to tie the makeshift bandages together. He picked up the armor and quickly inspected it. The piece was burnt through and would have to be patched before it was re-aligned. The alloys required could be easily obtained and mix-forged when they got back to Moya he thought as he strapped it back in place over the bandage. 'If' they get back to Moya he mentally corrected himself. He got to his feet and tested his leg... it hurt like hezmana, but held him up for the time being. "Release me and you won't feel the pain," said the voice, "You've already gone halfway. Free me and we will kill them all... just as we have always done... as we always will."
Berret froze in mid stride. He was not imagining it; the voice was really there. Trying to call up his talents by meditation also called up something else... his past, the Shrike.... had a life of it's own.
Berret painfully made his way back up to the trail. The party of invaders was gone as he arrived at the scene of the short battle. He started along the snow-covered path after them but his pace was agonizingly slow. He knew they would be on Chiana and Rygel at any microt. He tried to pick up his pace but the wounded leg wouldn't cooperate. "You're weak!" the voice chided him. "You'll never make it in time... you'll never kill the enemy without my help," it whispered.
"I don't need your help," Berret muttered aloud. "Go away!"
The voice was silent for a few microns, and then the pulse fire began somewhere up ahead. Berret attempted to run but the leg collapsed under the sudden stress. The Shrike hit the ground and then slammed his fist into the snow in frustration. "Chiana!" he thought helplessly as the rate of pulse fire increased.
"OBEY ME, SHRIKE!' roared the voice. "Release me or fail your mission."
With no other option left to him to aid his crewmates, Berret surrendered to the voice and gave up his free will. Something ran through him and the pain in his leg faded. That was the last sensation he could recall before everything went gray and his conscience mind was pushed out of his body. The creature that rose from the snow and sped toward the firefight at the Pod was no longer the being called Berret.
The Cutthroats approached the downed Pod brazenly. As soon as they moved in close enough for them to make out the two heads peeking out from behind the thrown together barricade blocking the hatchway, the leader called out for them to surrender, thinking that they were unarmed and could be easily intimidated.
"FRELL YOU!" shouted Chiana as she opened up on the men with her pulse-rifle, blowing the chest out of the man standing next to the leader with her first shot. Rygel fired a microt behind her and shot a second man in the right arm, spinning him around with the impact of the bolt. His second shot hit the man in the neck, dropping him in his place.
"...AND YOUR MOTHER TOO!" added Rygel. The four remaining men found what cover they could and returned fire on the Pod, the barrage forcing Chiana and Rygel to duck behind their own cover. The exchange of pulse fire lasted for microns, with both sides not really hitting anything further. The men outside poured shot after shot at the occupants of the wrecked ship, hitting only the hull and the makeshift barricade. Chiana took turns holding up the two Pulse-rifles over the barricade by their handle grip and blindly running dry the power packs one after another, hoping to hit someone by luck.
At the first pause in the shooting the leader shouted to them again. "You might as well give up. Your hired muscle is dead.... there's no one left to help you and no way for you to leave this snowball. Make it easy on yourselves and throw down your guns!" Chiana looked at Rygel.
"Do you think they got Berret?" she asked him.
"I don't know... he could be lying. Then again, where is he? Why isn't he helping us?" said the Hynerian. Mumbling more to himself, he added, "I bet that bastard left us here alone so he could get away."
"Berret wouldn't do that!" said Chiana in her friend's defense.
"Face it, Whitey.... you don't know what he would or wouldn't do for sure, do you?" he replied grimily.
One of the brigands made a move trying to make it to another piece of cover when Rygel drew a bead and shot the man through the stomach. "Gotcha, you backstabbing piece of dren," he said.
Another tried to finishing dragging the downed man behind his cover and Chiana was able to get a shot off which winged him in the arm. The man scrambled back behind his mound of dirt and snow, a few microts later the man Rygel shot stopped crying and moving. No one tried again to retrieve the body.
"Frelling dren!" shouted Chiana after her wounding of the cutthroat.
"How many does that make it still out there?" she asked.
"Still three," replied Rygel, checking the charge in the pulse pistol.
She was just about to ask another question when something flew from behind a mound of snow and bounced to within a few hentas of the Pod's hatchway. They both recognized the shape at the same microt.
"Shatter Grenade!" they both shouted together.
Instead of the bone breaking blast they expected, there was a bright flash and a loud bang.
Blind and deaf for several microts, they knew they were lost as someone rushed in and disarmed them, roughly shoving them to the floor of the Pod.
The man Chiana had wounded remained outside standing guard while the other two went inside to secure the prisoners. He cursed under his breath at being left out. He'd heard the Nebari female was quite the looker and he was sure his leader and Tuttles would be having their fun with her before turning her over to the man who hired them. He supposed guard duty was his punishment for being stupid enough to get himself wounded. He hoped he'd get a turn with the girl later after they've had their fun. He heard his boss laugh at some joke he'd made and tried not to think too much about what he was missing inside. He paced several steps away from the Pod's hatchway so he wouldn't have to hear what was going on. No sense thinking about it until the boss let him have his turn at the girl.
He swore again as his arm gave him a new wave of pain from the gunshot wound. He vowed he'd make the little tralk pay for what she did. What the others were doing to her now will be nothing to what I'll do to her later he thought. Something thumped the ground behind him and he spun around, rifle at the ready.
There was nothing there at first glance. Scanning the area he finally saw an almost perfect sphere of hard packed snow lying on the ground near his feet. He bent down and picked it up, wondering where it came from. He examined it for a microt and then a thought, which caused a feeling of dread, came to him. He dropped the sphere and knowing somehow that it was already too late. He slowly turned around... and looked right into a silently snarling face. The silver-tinted eyes making it look like something straight out of hezmana itself. He didn't even have time to scream before he died.
The two brigands had the drop on Chiana and Rygel. The crewmates seeing they didn't have a chance offered no resistance and surrendered. The Leader stepped into the Pod while the other man kept them covered from the hatchway. He approached the pair and seeing Chiana up close for the first time, openly leered. Rygel tried to divert his attention.
"What is the meaning of this attack? I'll have you know you have assaulted the personage of Dominar Rygel the Sixteenth...."
The Brigand Leader backhanded the Hynerian without even glancing in his direction, sending him flying into a bulkhead.
"Shut your trap, Swamp-puppy!" he snarled. Not taking his eyes off Chiana, he continued to her. "I can see why the 'Boss Man' wants you back in one piece. You're a beautiful little tralk. I bet you'll fetch quite a price on the slave block. Though if it were me, I'd keep you for myself." He ran a finger along her cheek and tilted her chin up to get a better look at her, only to have the Nebari spit into his face in contempt. To her surprise the strike she was expecting from the insult never came, instead the big man laughed as he wiped the spittle from his own cheek.
"You know... you and the green runt over there cost me a lot of good men, reliable help is hard to find in my profession, you know. I don't think the Boss would mind too much if we took a 'little trade' out in restitution." His eyes traveled down her body meaningfully.
Before Chiana could move, the Brigand grabbed her and pulled her close to him. Laughing even harder at her struggles, he began ripping at her tarp coverings to get at her clothes beneath. Rygel's wispy eyebrows drooped as he realized there was nothing he could do to aid his crewmate.
"What do you say, Tuttles?" he asked merrily, pausing at his attempt to disrobe her and turning to the man at the hatch. "Should we party with the Snow-girl here?"
In response, the man at the hatch made an odd choking sound.
"...Tuttles?" asked the Leader again confused.
Tuttles opened his mouth as if to speak and a river of blood rolled out instead. He dropped his rifle and jerked as if in a convulsion. Two blades burst through the front of his chest. With a sickening ripping noise the blades withdrew from the man and he slumped lifelessly to the deck, revealing the Shrike standing behind him and snarling like a mad animal. Standing stunned and speechless, the remaining Brigand gave Chiana her chance. Using her powerful leg muscles, she drove her knee up into the region she hoped contained the man's sex organs. You can never be to sure with all the different species in the territories, but she was rewarded with the man doubling over with a deep groan of pain. She clasped both of her hands together to make one big fist and swung them up into his face with all the force she could muster. Her would-be rapist's head shot backward and teeth flew from the blow. He fell heavily to the deck on his knees.
As fast as Chiana's attack was, the wounded Shrike had covered the distance from the hatchway. In one swift move he buried one set of his blades into the kneeling man's forehead. His skull made a cracking sound as the edged weapons were pulled out. As the body fell to the deck, the Shrike crouched down, looking for another opponent. Chiana was shocked still by her friend's appearance, which probably saved her life. He was pulse burned, covered in blood, and his loose wild hair prevented her from seeing his face clearly. Rygel, on the other hand saw the wild crazed look in his eyes. Inhaling audibly, the Hynerian made a dash for the pulse pistol lying on the deck between them. The Shrike sensed the danger and turned his attention toward the small being. Amazing even himself, Rygel almost made it to the weapon on the floor. An armored boot slammed down on the pistol, trapping it just as his hand touched the grip. Looking up at the assassin he saw the blades descending downward at him. The serrated edges cut the air, the whistling sound his death song. Rygel closed his eyes and waited for the end. The last thing he heard was Chiana's cry.
"BERRET! STOP!" Chiana screamed at the top of her lungs. Rygel realized after a microt that the scream hurt his ears, then he realized he wasn't dead yet if his ears were able to hurt. He opened his eyes to see the Shrike still standing over him. The gore covered blades hovering mere mili-hentas from the side of his head, so close he could feel the slight humming vibration the strange metal gave off. The Shrike was breathing heavily, his eyes still had a wild shine about them and they remained locked on Rygel. Despite his situation, the Hynerian oddly noticed that the man's eyes also had a silver tint to them, probably a result of the strange microbes work to keep the Enforcer from becoming snow blind when he was outside the Pod, he thought. Chiana took a step closer, calling to him, but with her Pulse rifle leveled.
"Berret?" she said softly and then tried his real name "Jared?" Berret tensed at the sound of her voice behind him and the blades wavered closer to Rygel's head.
"Ack! Stay where you are, you skinny assed bitch!" Rygel stammered in panic. "Stay were you are and don't gris him off anymore then he is! I told you he'd go farhbot out there," he hissed.
Ignoring Rygel's outburst, she slowly lowered the rifle until it was pointed at the floor.
"Retty, listen to me," she said. "It's over. They're all gone now... we won. It's time to go home. Home to Moya."
The Shrike turned to look at her, his unblinking eyes not so wild but still not saying anything.
"You don't want to hurt Rygel," she tried, her voice softening further. "Rygel didn't mean to try and hurt you, he was just scared is all." She tilted her head and asked quizzingly, "You don't want to hurt anybody, do you?" Berret finally blinked his eyes and she realized she was reaching him, reason slowly returning to him. "You don't want to hurt me... do ya?" she asked, her dark eyes pleading with him.
Berret blinked his eyes again and murmured quietly, "Pixie?"
He slowly straightened up from over Rygel and both sets of blades retracted into the gauntlets. Rygel let out the breathe he'd been holding in and let his head fall back onto the deck as he relaxed from the stress of so many close calls with death in so short a time. Chiana sighed with relief as she covertly thumbed the rifle's safety back on. Berret looked around in confusion, then at the bodies he'd left laying on the floor. To Chiana's disappointment his eyes hardened and became emotionless once again, but at least they didn't have that wild quality about them now.
"Get your packs, we have to leave this place now," he said, his voice lifeless and flat. He picked up a nearby pack and exited through the hatch to await them outside, not seeming to notice as he stepped over Tuttle's body. Chiana pushed back a tear as she realized her friend wasn't quite the person he had been, and may never be again after this day. She feared once the Shrike part of him got out, it seemed reluctant to let go and return the Berret she'd come to know. She picked up her pack and hurried Rygel out of the Pod to join the Shrike.
Malika made her way from command back to her quarters to change, she and Andar had been told of the whole situation. As much as she hated to admit it, after all she had only been on Moya a short while, she cared what happened to those here, even the Shrike. "Hey, it must be a good trait for a priestess," she thought. It had been a while since she had cared what happened to anyone. Because of her isolation, after losing her mother, she had learned to keep to herself and not get attached to others. She finished changing and looked in a mirror before leaving her quarters, she could even tell the concern in her own face, she was afraid they wouldn't reach the others in time, or they could even be dead already. As she was walking along she literally ran into Andar.
"I'm sorry," she said.
Andar - who had been exploring Moya - was somewhat startled when he bumped into Malika. He had been completely focused on his surroundings that he hadn't been watching where he was going. He looked at Malika, a look of embarrassment on his face.
"No. I am at fault. I wasn't paying attention to where I was going. It's just that I'm still a little overwhelmed by all of this."
"No, It's partly my fault. I wasn't paying attention either," she said. "I'm worried about the others. I don't usually worry, so I'm not paying attention," she replied. "I am sorry for all that's happened to you recently. I know what having your world ripped away from you can feel like," she said.
The voice read a set of coordinates off to its comrades while Chiana and Rygel's faces fell.
"Well, that's it," uttered the Hynerian. "They found us."
At the words, Berret's eyes snapped open. Chiana had never seen him operating as an Enforcer. When they'd first met he was in a state of confusion. Now she gave an involuntary shiver as their eyes met. There no longer stood her friend... she was looking into the dead eyes of a Shrike assassin.
Berret smoothly got to his feet and walked to the hatchway.
"Prepare yourselves," he said, his voice dull and unemotional as he wrapped a length of white cloth over the bottom half of his face so only his eyes showed. He cycled the hatch and without a further word disappeared out into the blowing snow. Rygel and Chiana took positions at the barricade they had erected earlier just inside the hatchway.
"That was frelling creepy," said Rygel, referring to Berret's transformation.
"...Yeah," breathlessly said the Nebari, having to agree.
"You don't suppose he'll go totally farhbot out there and not remember to stop the killing with just our un-welcomed visitors, do you?" he asked.
Stunned, Chiana looked at Rygel. "I dunno... I hadn't thought about that," she answered.
"Well, if he comes back and so much as looks cockeyed at me, I'm going to plant a pulse bolt... right... between... his... eyes!" Rygel finished by tapping the barrel of the pistol against the barricade with each word.
Chiana swallowed. "...Yeah," she said quietly, silently hoping it didn't come to that, but caressing the handle of her Pulse-rifle without thinking, and finding a degree of comfort in the action.
Somewhere outside they could hear the retro thrusters of ships firing for a landing.
"Here we go," she muttered.
John entered Command to find D'argo studying one of the control panels.
"So D'argo, any idea on how to get around this convoy?" he asked.
"No, Pilot says they're still moving too slowly and he doesn't want to take any chances on being spotted," D'argo answered. John sighed heavily and sat at one of the tables. He rested his head on his hands and stifled a yawn. D'argo walked over to him and sat next to his friend placing a hand on John's shoulder.
"What's the news on Aeryn? Will she be alright?" D'argo asked.
"Well, she's still unconscious, but that's because she's lost a lot of blood. Zhaan says she'll be all right. A little weak when she wakes up, but she'll be fine."
"I'm sorry I couldn't protect her, John," D'argo said sadly.
John raised his head to look at him. "You did everything you could. You got her back here. That's all that matters," D'argo smiled weakly at John's comment and they sat staring out the view-port for several microts. "Oh, and by the way, D'argo?"
"Yes, John?"
"Thank you."
"For what, John? I've done nothing to deserve your thanks," D'argo replied.
"You've saved Aeryn's life. That means more to me than you'll ever know, big guy. And you've been a good friend," John said as he stuck his hand out in a handshake gesture. D'argo took his friend's hand in his and they shook hands. "Now... let's find a way outta here. We have people to rescue." They both turned their attentions to the comms to figure out a way to get to the ice moon.
The two ships landed almost side by side. Berret watched the eight men work their way through snowdrifts that were almost waist deep at times. He had stuck to the ice packed crash trail the Pod had left. He could see that soon the men would come across it and then their traveling would become easier. He calculated their path and going down on all fours, his nose just mere hentas above the snow, he slithered into a position where they would pass close by him. Once there, he covered himself over with snow, not feeling the cold. In microts the wind and falling snow obliterated any sign he was there.
The group of men hit the ice trail and guided by a magnetic scanner, headed in the direction of the downed Pod. As they passed by him, the Shrike noted that they were armed with an assortment of pulse weapons; most appeared homemade or just of poor quality. The group was strung out, each man taking turns breaking a trail through the snow. Two came within hentas of stepping on the assassin. The last man was well behind the others, just having been replaced by another from his turn at plowing a path in the snow. As he drew even with Berret, the Shrike exploded from his hiding place. The beings eyes grew large behind his facemask at the sudden appearance of the apparition and the warning he was about shout die in his throat as serrated blades sheared through that part of his anatomy. The Shrike rolled the still dying body off to the side and began to dog the rest of the party. Following just close enough so that they looked only like dull shapes on the path ahead of him. Microns later they approached a section of the trail where both the sides of the route ran downhill. The last man turned and seeing the dark shape lagging behind the group waved him forward to catch up, believing he was the recently deceased member of squad. The Shrike picked up his pace and closed with the new target quickly. As he neared, the man turned to shout something to him over the howl of the wind and realized the person behind them wasn't part of the team.
He reacted quicker then the first man, getting a warning off and managing to raise his pulse rifle halfway across the front of his body before the Shrike's blades cut the cheap weapon in two and went on to bury themselves deep into his belly. The rifle discharged off to one side as it was destroyed, alerting the entire group. As one, they turned to discover the Shrike still holding up their comrade. The blades having pinned the man through part of the rifle's stock and the gun's sling, causing the Shrike trouble in disengaging them. They opened fire on the pair. Pulse bolts tore into the assassin's victim and pounded into his armor plates. As the plates absorbed the bolts energy, they turned from a metallic black to burnt-brown. Once struck by a pulse bolt the plates lost their ability to deflect energy until they could be ran through a molecular re-aligner and the molecules in the metal reorganized in the proper sequence. Berret freed his weapon from the man's body and a pulse bolt struck the armor covering his left thigh for the second time, blowing through the plate and his leg. Unbalanced, the Shrike tumbled along with the body down the right side of the hill, both becoming lost from sight in the blowing snow.
"Did we get him?" one brigand asked the others.
"No one can survive that many hits," replied the leader. "That must have been the bodyguard, the Boss told us about. That leaves the Hynerian and the little Nebari bitch all alone, and easy pickin's," he leered behind his mask. The first freebooter looked down the incline trying to see where the Shrike and their fellow group member had fallen.
"What about Norfolk?' he asked about the missing man.
"Frell him!" came the reply, "...one less cut to split the reward with. Now let's go."
Berret rolled the body off from on top of him and attempted to sit up. A bolt of agony shot through his wounded thigh and he hissed at the pain. Something was wrong; he should not have made that big of a mistake. His ingrained training and instincts were failing him. In the memories that Zhaan had helped bring back, he'd always carried off his 'missions' in a calm and efficient manner. This time, there were too many thoughts cluttering his mind and distracting him. He realized that the collar must have helped him in some way to focus on the course of action needed at the time. He almost chuckled as he came to the conclusion that being self-aware had its drawbacks. A nagging voice in the back of his mind itched to be heard. It was a dull, emotionless voice... something dark that wanted to be set free... something dark as the blackest pitch.
It was telling him, that it alone had the skills necessary to do what had to be done... if only he would turn it loose... give it control of his body again. Berret tried to ignore the voice, thinking he must be hallucinating; the cold and the pain from the wound must be getting to him. He removed the shattered piece of armor from his thigh and examined the wound. It wasn't good. It seemed it was too cold again for the microbes to begin repairing it... and he was slowly bleeding out.
He torn off some of the white strips of cloth and packed them as best as he could into his wound to stop the blood flow. He used the length of clothe he had covering his face to tie the makeshift bandages together. He picked up the armor and quickly inspected it. The piece was burnt through and would have to be patched before it was re-aligned. The alloys required could be easily obtained and mix-forged when they got back to Moya he thought as he strapped it back in place over the bandage. 'If' they get back to Moya he mentally corrected himself. He got to his feet and tested his leg... it hurt like hezmana, but held him up for the time being. "Release me and you won't feel the pain," said the voice, "You've already gone halfway. Free me and we will kill them all... just as we have always done... as we always will."
Berret froze in mid stride. He was not imagining it; the voice was really there. Trying to call up his talents by meditation also called up something else... his past, the Shrike.... had a life of it's own.
Berret painfully made his way back up to the trail. The party of invaders was gone as he arrived at the scene of the short battle. He started along the snow-covered path after them but his pace was agonizingly slow. He knew they would be on Chiana and Rygel at any microt. He tried to pick up his pace but the wounded leg wouldn't cooperate. "You're weak!" the voice chided him. "You'll never make it in time... you'll never kill the enemy without my help," it whispered.
"I don't need your help," Berret muttered aloud. "Go away!"
The voice was silent for a few microns, and then the pulse fire began somewhere up ahead. Berret attempted to run but the leg collapsed under the sudden stress. The Shrike hit the ground and then slammed his fist into the snow in frustration. "Chiana!" he thought helplessly as the rate of pulse fire increased.
"OBEY ME, SHRIKE!' roared the voice. "Release me or fail your mission."
With no other option left to him to aid his crewmates, Berret surrendered to the voice and gave up his free will. Something ran through him and the pain in his leg faded. That was the last sensation he could recall before everything went gray and his conscience mind was pushed out of his body. The creature that rose from the snow and sped toward the firefight at the Pod was no longer the being called Berret.
The Cutthroats approached the downed Pod brazenly. As soon as they moved in close enough for them to make out the two heads peeking out from behind the thrown together barricade blocking the hatchway, the leader called out for them to surrender, thinking that they were unarmed and could be easily intimidated.
"FRELL YOU!" shouted Chiana as she opened up on the men with her pulse-rifle, blowing the chest out of the man standing next to the leader with her first shot. Rygel fired a microt behind her and shot a second man in the right arm, spinning him around with the impact of the bolt. His second shot hit the man in the neck, dropping him in his place.
"...AND YOUR MOTHER TOO!" added Rygel. The four remaining men found what cover they could and returned fire on the Pod, the barrage forcing Chiana and Rygel to duck behind their own cover. The exchange of pulse fire lasted for microns, with both sides not really hitting anything further. The men outside poured shot after shot at the occupants of the wrecked ship, hitting only the hull and the makeshift barricade. Chiana took turns holding up the two Pulse-rifles over the barricade by their handle grip and blindly running dry the power packs one after another, hoping to hit someone by luck.
At the first pause in the shooting the leader shouted to them again. "You might as well give up. Your hired muscle is dead.... there's no one left to help you and no way for you to leave this snowball. Make it easy on yourselves and throw down your guns!" Chiana looked at Rygel.
"Do you think they got Berret?" she asked him.
"I don't know... he could be lying. Then again, where is he? Why isn't he helping us?" said the Hynerian. Mumbling more to himself, he added, "I bet that bastard left us here alone so he could get away."
"Berret wouldn't do that!" said Chiana in her friend's defense.
"Face it, Whitey.... you don't know what he would or wouldn't do for sure, do you?" he replied grimily.
One of the brigands made a move trying to make it to another piece of cover when Rygel drew a bead and shot the man through the stomach. "Gotcha, you backstabbing piece of dren," he said.
Another tried to finishing dragging the downed man behind his cover and Chiana was able to get a shot off which winged him in the arm. The man scrambled back behind his mound of dirt and snow, a few microts later the man Rygel shot stopped crying and moving. No one tried again to retrieve the body.
"Frelling dren!" shouted Chiana after her wounding of the cutthroat.
"How many does that make it still out there?" she asked.
"Still three," replied Rygel, checking the charge in the pulse pistol.
She was just about to ask another question when something flew from behind a mound of snow and bounced to within a few hentas of the Pod's hatchway. They both recognized the shape at the same microt.
"Shatter Grenade!" they both shouted together.
Instead of the bone breaking blast they expected, there was a bright flash and a loud bang.
Blind and deaf for several microts, they knew they were lost as someone rushed in and disarmed them, roughly shoving them to the floor of the Pod.
The man Chiana had wounded remained outside standing guard while the other two went inside to secure the prisoners. He cursed under his breath at being left out. He'd heard the Nebari female was quite the looker and he was sure his leader and Tuttles would be having their fun with her before turning her over to the man who hired them. He supposed guard duty was his punishment for being stupid enough to get himself wounded. He hoped he'd get a turn with the girl later after they've had their fun. He heard his boss laugh at some joke he'd made and tried not to think too much about what he was missing inside. He paced several steps away from the Pod's hatchway so he wouldn't have to hear what was going on. No sense thinking about it until the boss let him have his turn at the girl.
He swore again as his arm gave him a new wave of pain from the gunshot wound. He vowed he'd make the little tralk pay for what she did. What the others were doing to her now will be nothing to what I'll do to her later he thought. Something thumped the ground behind him and he spun around, rifle at the ready.
There was nothing there at first glance. Scanning the area he finally saw an almost perfect sphere of hard packed snow lying on the ground near his feet. He bent down and picked it up, wondering where it came from. He examined it for a microt and then a thought, which caused a feeling of dread, came to him. He dropped the sphere and knowing somehow that it was already too late. He slowly turned around... and looked right into a silently snarling face. The silver-tinted eyes making it look like something straight out of hezmana itself. He didn't even have time to scream before he died.
The two brigands had the drop on Chiana and Rygel. The crewmates seeing they didn't have a chance offered no resistance and surrendered. The Leader stepped into the Pod while the other man kept them covered from the hatchway. He approached the pair and seeing Chiana up close for the first time, openly leered. Rygel tried to divert his attention.
"What is the meaning of this attack? I'll have you know you have assaulted the personage of Dominar Rygel the Sixteenth...."
The Brigand Leader backhanded the Hynerian without even glancing in his direction, sending him flying into a bulkhead.
"Shut your trap, Swamp-puppy!" he snarled. Not taking his eyes off Chiana, he continued to her. "I can see why the 'Boss Man' wants you back in one piece. You're a beautiful little tralk. I bet you'll fetch quite a price on the slave block. Though if it were me, I'd keep you for myself." He ran a finger along her cheek and tilted her chin up to get a better look at her, only to have the Nebari spit into his face in contempt. To her surprise the strike she was expecting from the insult never came, instead the big man laughed as he wiped the spittle from his own cheek.
"You know... you and the green runt over there cost me a lot of good men, reliable help is hard to find in my profession, you know. I don't think the Boss would mind too much if we took a 'little trade' out in restitution." His eyes traveled down her body meaningfully.
Before Chiana could move, the Brigand grabbed her and pulled her close to him. Laughing even harder at her struggles, he began ripping at her tarp coverings to get at her clothes beneath. Rygel's wispy eyebrows drooped as he realized there was nothing he could do to aid his crewmate.
"What do you say, Tuttles?" he asked merrily, pausing at his attempt to disrobe her and turning to the man at the hatch. "Should we party with the Snow-girl here?"
In response, the man at the hatch made an odd choking sound.
"...Tuttles?" asked the Leader again confused.
Tuttles opened his mouth as if to speak and a river of blood rolled out instead. He dropped his rifle and jerked as if in a convulsion. Two blades burst through the front of his chest. With a sickening ripping noise the blades withdrew from the man and he slumped lifelessly to the deck, revealing the Shrike standing behind him and snarling like a mad animal. Standing stunned and speechless, the remaining Brigand gave Chiana her chance. Using her powerful leg muscles, she drove her knee up into the region she hoped contained the man's sex organs. You can never be to sure with all the different species in the territories, but she was rewarded with the man doubling over with a deep groan of pain. She clasped both of her hands together to make one big fist and swung them up into his face with all the force she could muster. Her would-be rapist's head shot backward and teeth flew from the blow. He fell heavily to the deck on his knees.
As fast as Chiana's attack was, the wounded Shrike had covered the distance from the hatchway. In one swift move he buried one set of his blades into the kneeling man's forehead. His skull made a cracking sound as the edged weapons were pulled out. As the body fell to the deck, the Shrike crouched down, looking for another opponent. Chiana was shocked still by her friend's appearance, which probably saved her life. He was pulse burned, covered in blood, and his loose wild hair prevented her from seeing his face clearly. Rygel, on the other hand saw the wild crazed look in his eyes. Inhaling audibly, the Hynerian made a dash for the pulse pistol lying on the deck between them. The Shrike sensed the danger and turned his attention toward the small being. Amazing even himself, Rygel almost made it to the weapon on the floor. An armored boot slammed down on the pistol, trapping it just as his hand touched the grip. Looking up at the assassin he saw the blades descending downward at him. The serrated edges cut the air, the whistling sound his death song. Rygel closed his eyes and waited for the end. The last thing he heard was Chiana's cry.
"BERRET! STOP!" Chiana screamed at the top of her lungs. Rygel realized after a microt that the scream hurt his ears, then he realized he wasn't dead yet if his ears were able to hurt. He opened his eyes to see the Shrike still standing over him. The gore covered blades hovering mere mili-hentas from the side of his head, so close he could feel the slight humming vibration the strange metal gave off. The Shrike was breathing heavily, his eyes still had a wild shine about them and they remained locked on Rygel. Despite his situation, the Hynerian oddly noticed that the man's eyes also had a silver tint to them, probably a result of the strange microbes work to keep the Enforcer from becoming snow blind when he was outside the Pod, he thought. Chiana took a step closer, calling to him, but with her Pulse rifle leveled.
"Berret?" she said softly and then tried his real name "Jared?" Berret tensed at the sound of her voice behind him and the blades wavered closer to Rygel's head.
"Ack! Stay where you are, you skinny assed bitch!" Rygel stammered in panic. "Stay were you are and don't gris him off anymore then he is! I told you he'd go farhbot out there," he hissed.
Ignoring Rygel's outburst, she slowly lowered the rifle until it was pointed at the floor.
"Retty, listen to me," she said. "It's over. They're all gone now... we won. It's time to go home. Home to Moya."
The Shrike turned to look at her, his unblinking eyes not so wild but still not saying anything.
"You don't want to hurt Rygel," she tried, her voice softening further. "Rygel didn't mean to try and hurt you, he was just scared is all." She tilted her head and asked quizzingly, "You don't want to hurt anybody, do you?" Berret finally blinked his eyes and she realized she was reaching him, reason slowly returning to him. "You don't want to hurt me... do ya?" she asked, her dark eyes pleading with him.
Berret blinked his eyes again and murmured quietly, "Pixie?"
He slowly straightened up from over Rygel and both sets of blades retracted into the gauntlets. Rygel let out the breathe he'd been holding in and let his head fall back onto the deck as he relaxed from the stress of so many close calls with death in so short a time. Chiana sighed with relief as she covertly thumbed the rifle's safety back on. Berret looked around in confusion, then at the bodies he'd left laying on the floor. To Chiana's disappointment his eyes hardened and became emotionless once again, but at least they didn't have that wild quality about them now.
"Get your packs, we have to leave this place now," he said, his voice lifeless and flat. He picked up a nearby pack and exited through the hatch to await them outside, not seeming to notice as he stepped over Tuttle's body. Chiana pushed back a tear as she realized her friend wasn't quite the person he had been, and may never be again after this day. She feared once the Shrike part of him got out, it seemed reluctant to let go and return the Berret she'd come to know. She picked up her pack and hurried Rygel out of the Pod to join the Shrike.
Malika made her way from command back to her quarters to change, she and Andar had been told of the whole situation. As much as she hated to admit it, after all she had only been on Moya a short while, she cared what happened to those here, even the Shrike. "Hey, it must be a good trait for a priestess," she thought. It had been a while since she had cared what happened to anyone. Because of her isolation, after losing her mother, she had learned to keep to herself and not get attached to others. She finished changing and looked in a mirror before leaving her quarters, she could even tell the concern in her own face, she was afraid they wouldn't reach the others in time, or they could even be dead already. As she was walking along she literally ran into Andar.
"I'm sorry," she said.
Andar - who had been exploring Moya - was somewhat startled when he bumped into Malika. He had been completely focused on his surroundings that he hadn't been watching where he was going. He looked at Malika, a look of embarrassment on his face.
"No. I am at fault. I wasn't paying attention to where I was going. It's just that I'm still a little overwhelmed by all of this."
"No, It's partly my fault. I wasn't paying attention either," she said. "I'm worried about the others. I don't usually worry, so I'm not paying attention," she replied. "I am sorry for all that's happened to you recently. I know what having your world ripped away from you can feel like," she said.