Chapter 29

Marco

(How long do you think we'll stay lucky?) Rachel asked me pensively. I didn't know exactly what she meant – it was probably just a rhetorical question to pass the time as we floated high above the Trunsk city of Krassh. Say what you want about the slimy freaks, but they sure knew how to build a good-looking city.

(Well, let's see, Rachel,) I started. (We've been recruited once again to save the day against impossible odds. We're stranded on Planet Sahara. Lok's baking to death back at the camp, and you and I are trying to figure out the best way to assassinate a Prime Minister of an alien nation. Not to mention the fact that just touching one of these creatures we have to fight our way through will more than likely kill us. Jake is doing his best to repel a superior alien strike force back on Planet Fuedal China. There's no guarantee that the creep we're risking our lives to kill in cold blood is even the dude we're looking for. You consider us lucky so far?)

(I could still be dead,) Rachel said dryly. I halfway agreed, but then again, this was probably only marginally better than death.

(That look like the Magic Kingdom to you?) I asked her, indicating a structure that strangely resembled Cinderella's castle.

(Yep. Guards at every corner. Some nasty looking weapons mounted on the roof. What do you want to bet our boy is in there?)

(My sentiments exactly,) I said, and began a rapid descent. We landed behind a big satellite dish, out of sight of the two guards stationed on the roof. We quickly demorphed, but the guards looked bored and didn't even glance in our direction. "Hork-Bajir?" I whispered, my head inches away from Rachel's.

"Hork-Bajir," she confirmed. "They're not exactly mammals, so the Trunsk slime probably won't hurt us too much." Her insane grin became the perpetually demonic smile characteristic of the Hork-Bajir. I felt a tail growing as I shot up, too big to remain totally hidden by the dish.

Pop! Pop! My knees cracked loudly as they reversed direction, and the two lizard men turned to look my way. Their eyes widened, then narrowed as they drew weapons and stalked towards me. One raised a device that looked suspiciously like a wristwatch to his face and hissed into it.

I grinned as I felt the blades emerging from my wrists, elbows, and knees. I rubbed the two wrist blades together, mimicking sharpening a knife. (Come get some,) I said to the guards, and they hesitated. I was about to let them go and enter the building from the roof access when Rachel bounded past me after the Trunsk.

(Dammit, Rachel!) I shouted, running to keep up. The two Trunsk looked around, but there was nowhere to go except for over the side of the roof. They hissed loudly, their version of a battle cry I guess, and ran at Rachel and I with their machetes flailing.

Ten seconds later, it was all over. The two dismembered Trunsk lay at odd angles on the ground, and Rachel wiped some translucent green ichor from her face. (Was that really necessary?) I asked. The exertion from the short fight had me panting.

(Oh yeah. They sabotaged my fighter and are trying to kill all of my friends. It was very necessary,) she panted herself. I didn't remember the Hork-Bajir getting tired this easily. I also didn't remember the blurry vision, and the random firing of strange thoughts…

(Demorph!) I yelled. (The poison! It's a nuerotoxin, and it's working on us!)

(On it,) Rachel mumbled, and I saw her form begin shrinking through blurry eyes. I felt the changes begin in myself, and tried to just stay focused on my mental picture of my human self.

A few minutes later, Rachel and I sat wearily on the stone, a good distance away from the toxic Trunsk corpses. "How the hell are we supposed to fight our way through these guys?" I asked, disturbed that I'd almost let myself die the ignonimous death I'd almost bought myself through ignorance. "Insects to find him?"

"That would work, but how to we finish him?" Rachel asked. I saw she was shaken. Not defeated – even at the worst of times, Rachel had a look in her eye that seemed to say, 'Oh, I've got another round left in me.' She was definitely not as cocky as she'd been five minutes ago, though.

My comment was forestalled by the door to the roof access bursting open. I blinked at what came out – surely it was a lingering effect of the poison. There, walking towards us in a slow, deliberate gait, were two humongous Howlers. "Figures," Rachel said, standing up and squaring off. She walked towards them, arm cocked like she was going to punch them, and I just shook my head.

The Howlers opened their mouths, and I cringed at what I knew was to come. To my surprise, Rachel actually punched one of them right in his open mouth. I almost started cracking up. That Howlers blue eyes shot open in surprise as his jaw clicked shut. The other Howler paid no attention and started wailing.

My brain exploded, and voluntary movement was no longer an option. The Howler's cry pierced my skull and shook me all over. I vaguely saw Rachel fall down, and then the pain redoubled as the second Howler joined in with a shreik of his own.

The howls stopped, but the pain didn't. I shook, wishing someone would just kill me and end this awful feeling. I saw the Howler Rachel'd punched draw a huge machine pistol and point it at her. Time slowed down as he pulled the trigger, making Rachel do a convulsive dance as the bullets penetrated her fragile human body. I watched with a sick, detatched fascination as the blood ran in patterns through the grout in between the cobblestones. Then my vision was eclipsed by a huge, black leg and I found myself looking down the barrel of a loaded gun. "My god, could this be the end of Rico?" I whispered as soon as the lame joke formed in the back of my shattered mind. The barrel lit up, and then -