They took cover behind a wall of blasted-out buildings on the periphery of the city. An insectoid dropship was there, along with two dozen warriors milling about, getting things ready for departure. Tig’s stomach turned as she saw the dozens of bags piled up, staged for loading; two warriors were bringing them onto the ship, eight at a time. She didn’t want to do the math; it was so many people that her mind rejected the idea of it.

 

Still, she forced herself to look, forced herself to game it out. They were done collecting, it appeared; she could see where a path had been worn in the rubble and dirt to the pile of people. That meant that once these bags were loaded, the ship would be free to take off.

 

Once it did, those people were dead. Even if they won the battle, even if they won the war, the chances of them locating one Insectoid dropship and taking it down cleanly, without harming any of their prisoners…it wasn’t possible. The humans would die if they didn’t act.

 

There had to be another half-dozen warriors on the ship. Even now, over the din, she could feel the soft whine of gravitic thrusters powering up. It was now or never.

 

“Decanus Tralus, are you good to hold a weapon?”

 

The young man nodded shakily; lattice gel was holding him together, and he definitely was feeling the loss of blood and the searing pain.

 

“I can…I can create a diversion, I think,” he stammered.

 

“You’re brave as hell, but no, Decanus, I want you to hold up here, and provide us cover. Rest of us are splitting into two teams. Computer-Fixer, you have an engineering rating?”

 

“Class two, Optio Acting-Commander.”

 

“Decanus Klwrrkgh, take Mr Computer-Fixer. Lokagos Riab, designate four of your soldiers to go with them. You’re going to get on the ship. Your primary objective is to disable it, by any means necessary.

 

“The rest of us – myself, Ms Malor, and the other two human officers are going assault the staging area. We will go first, and hopefully draw their fire.  Once they engage, you are to go and disable the ship. I want to make clear,” Tig said, “I don’t expect us to survive the diversionary assault. No matter what happens to us, no matter what, you keep that ship grounded. Do not redirect to us unless every gorram bug is dead. Understood?

 

“Yes, ma’am!” Klwrrkgh said. “May your death be triumphant, ma’am!”

 

“And yours, Decanus,” Tig said, with the slightest of smiles. “Lokagos, are your soldiers ready?”

 

“Yes, ma’am,” Riab said. “Palemst Joran will be leading our soldiers with Decanus Klwrrkgh. I will remain with you, along with Asker Nemeta.”

 

“Excellent,” Tig said. “All right, we don’t have time for long goodbyes. Good hunting, everyone, and if any of us survive this…tell our loved ones we did our best. On three, Mr Malor, begin suppressive fire. One…two…three.”

 

Malor’s phase canon rang out, dropping two warriors. They hissed, and turned toward him, firing away. The firing ceased, just for a second, before it came at them from a different direction.

 

Tig knew they had to be careful. A stray shot by the piles of humans could kill dozens. She pushed forward, trying to interpose herself between them and the people they had piled up. She needed about ten more officers at her side; nevertheless, they had some success, in no small part because the warriors, having gathered quite a bit of food, were loath to destroy it.

 

That gave them a chance. Just a bare chance.

 

As the fight got underway, Klwrrkgh led her team underneath the dropship. Sge lowered the humans onto the ground; they had said they had a plan. Brave, pathetic little creatures, Klwrrkgh thought; she was quite impressed as they moved up the gangplank carefully and quietly. They made it all the way aboard the ship before the shots rang out; it would not be enough to kill the insectoids, but it would be enough to sting and confuse them.

 

Klwrrkgh charged up the ramp, Computer-Fixer on her left. The Avartle man moved aft, as Klwrrkgh entered the hold.

 

The Ler heard the screams and shouts, roaring like a wave on the ocean, or a crowd at a LumLur tournament. Thousands of humans, stacked like wood, ready to be transported for consumption.

 

She bared her teeth. It was too tight in here; the warriors would not fire. With a guttural howl, she charged the first two she saw.

 

While Klwrrkgh began her fight, Computer-Fixer quickly dispatched the one warrior in his way, and began to frantically search for anything that would be of use to him. The Insectoid gravitics would have to be substantially aft; that was basic physics. But that didn’t mean that it would be easy to break them.

 

He looked for the conduits – there, he could see one. Electrical controls ran alongside them. He clambered up the walls, and began to attack the thick wiring. He could pull it loose, and cause the equivalent a short – kill gravitic control. He just needed time.

 

But time was waning.

 
****

 

Damn she was fast, Sorcha thought. Not quite Eyrn without her bracelets fast but certainly much quicker than her aunt was normally. The blades came in high and fast on her left and she parried with her own blade and spun, dodging a second attack on her right.

 

Sorcha had some momentum left from her spin and carried on, reaching out with her own blade hoping to catch Myrell on the way back round but her adversary had already hopped back a step.

 

She wasn’t going to wait for Myrell to attack again. This woman had betrayed her, had killed thousands of helpless Humans, murdered Manka in cold blood and was holding her best friend hostage. Sorcha focused her anger, as Rixie had taught. She used it as motivation, as fuel to push on rather than just letting it overcome her.

 

Sorcha swung, keeping her feet firmly planted but stretching as far as she could, hoping to catch Myrell off guard but her pink-haired rival was just too quick. Sorcha swung again and again, taking a step forward with each swing, trying to make contact.

 

CLANG.

 

The blade made contact. Rather than flesh, she found it locked in between the two blades strapped to Myrell’s left hand.

 

Myrell stared in her eyes and grinned. A split second later she spun, holding Sorcha in place and slashing at her with her free arm. Sorcha pulled with all her might and managed to free her blade but not before her opponent’s blades slashed across the back of her leg.

 

“Argh!” Sorcha fumed, trying to mask the pain of the first strike. Myrell giggled in reply.

 

“Very good!” She said. “No one ever attacks me! They only defend!”

 

“And you call Alesia pleased with herself you smug fuck!?”

 

Sorcha attacked again, channelling her anger once more, using it to cover the pain in her leg. She was getting a feel for how Myrell moved now.

 

She slashed across in a wide arc, took a step forward and slashed down as Myrell rolled under it. She brought her blade up and Myrell repeated her move and caught Sorcha’s blade with her own. But this time Sorcha didn’t freeze.

 

SMACK!

 

Sorcha’s left elbow smashed into Myrell’s face and the smaller hybrid let out a howl of pain and stumbled backwards.

 

It was Sorcha’s turn to smile now. Myrell’s face was dripping with blood that flowed freely from a large gash on the bridge of her nose and from her nostrils.

 

“Ow! Ow! Ow!” Myrell squealed. “That hurts!”

 

Sorcha rolled her eyes. “Boo fuckin’ hoo.”

 

Myrell shook her head trying to clear the fuzz from the blow she’d taken. And then focused back to Sorcha.

 

“You know, I was going easy on you?” She said. “But that’s done now!”

 

She leapt towards the taller woman far faster than seemed possible and started to let loose with both sets of blades.

 

Sorcha stepped back and back again, parrying one arm with her knife and trying to her elbow to ward off Myrell’s other arm. She was thankful she inherited father’s stature now rather than her mother’s. Though she still winced each time the blades sliced at the flesh of her forearm.

 

Myrell kept slashing and swinging, screaming loudly with anger and pain and stepping forward with step.

 

This left Sorcha with a big problem.

 

The whirling dervish in front of her and the rapidly approaching end of the roof behind her. She watched the arms and the body movement of her slashing opponent. This would have to be timed perfectly.

 

“NOW!” her mind yelled.

 

Sorcha caught one set of blades on her own, grabbed Myrell’s other wrist and brought her knee up. This stopped her attacker in her tracks. And Sorcha intended to take advantage. She slid her hand up her opponent’s arm and pulled the straps from the blade on her right arm and it fell away. Sorcha kicked it off the roof and spun around as Myrell freed her remaining blades.

 

“Argh!” Myrell shouted, visibly heaving with anger.

 

“This must be what what I seem like…” Sorcha thought to herself.

 

Myrell stomped and slashed at thin air.

 

“Awww, what’s wrong? Don’t like being beaten?” Sorcha mocked.

 

Myrell held up her remaining pair of blades. “I prefer to use metal! But fine! If you want to play that way!”

 

She rushed Sorcha once more, this time with her blade curled back. Sorcha warded off the first few blows but some found their mark. And she had to admit, for a little girl, Myrell could hit. But Hybrids were much stronger than the Titans she was used to beating up. She tried to lift her blade to strike back but the punches kept coming.

 

One would hit her face. Then her temple. Then her chest. Then her nose.

 

Her head rang with each blow and disoriented her. Her reactions got slower and slower.

 

And then Myrell drew the blade out and slashed her across the chest.

 

Sorcha screamed and fell back. She scurried away on her back as Myrell threw herself down on top of her.

 

Sorcha anticipated the move and brought her legs up and caught Myrell as she came down on her. Sorcha kicked out and flung Myrell over.

 

She came down hard, the gravity dampeners not able to compensate fully to the fall.

 

“Ah!” Myrell cried out as she hit the ground. She gave herself a second before moving, some of her bones protesting from the knock they’d taken. She suspected some ribs were cracked.

 

Both women slowly and unsteadily pushed themselves to their feet.

 

“Had enough?” Sorcha panted and clutched at her bleeding chest.

 

Myrell breathed heavily. “I’m going to make you watch as I kill Alesia…”

 

“Go hIfreann leat!” Sorcha shouted.

 

The two rushed at each other, blades held high and swung. Each in pain and exhausted. The slashes were slower but still enough to kill or maim. They slashed and punched and dodged, trying to land a killing blow.

 

Once more Sorcha dug deep and pulled at the anger that swelled within her. She remembered her first lessons with Rixie. She remembered how frustrated and angry she got each time Rixie landed a blow or threw her to the ground. Sorcha had so much strength and as long as she was angry enough, and against someone unskilled enough, she could pummel anyone into pulp.

 

But not someone skilled.

 

Rixie taught her this. She had to focus and channel her anger to give her drive but to use her wits to fight.

 

And right now her wits were telling her that she much preferred to fight with her fists than with a blade.

 

So she dropped it.

 

She grabbed Myrell’s bladed arm with both hands and tightly as she could and yanked the woman into her. She spun around her, Myrell tried to resist but Sorcha had the equivalent of a foot of height and fifty pounds of weight on.

 

Sorcha twisted the smaller woman’s arm and pinned it against her back, and then she twisted it with all her might.

 

SNAP!

 

Myrell screamed in agony.

 

Sorcha let her go and she dropped to the ground screaming.

 

She wasted no time in throwing away her blades and tore off the gravity dampeners from her defeated opponent’s legs. Myrell screamed more as the full force of Tau Ceti’s oppressive gravity fell on her.

 

Sorcha fell to her knees, exhausted and relieved and in equal measure. She looked to her writhing opponent, two voices competing in her mind. Kill her, or leave her. She breathed in and out, long deep breaths, and made her decision.

 

Myrell was a killer, but Sorcha was not. Even after everything she had done Sorcha could not kill her and be able to return home and look her mother in the eye.

 

She dropped down further and rolled on to her back, letting the cool rain hit her burning chest. She rested, mildly enjoying the wailing of her broken opponent. She shuddered, rolled over and crawled to the bag that Myrell had trapped Alesia in.

 

Sorcha unzipped in and peered in. Alesia looked up at her and screamed uncontrollably.

 

“Alesia, Alesia, it’s me! It’s me!” Sorcha said but Alesia carried on screaming uncontrollably.

 

Sorcha did something she had been taught for as long as she could remember not to and scooped up the distraught Human and held her tightly in her hand.

 

“Shh, shh, shh, shhhh.” Sorcha said calmly and stroked Alesia’s blood soaked, golden hair softly. “It’s Sorcha, you’re safe. You’re safe, you’re safe.”

 

Slowly Alesia stopped struggling and screaming and started to weep.

 

“You’re safe Lessy. You’re safe.” Sorcha repeated.

 

“Sor…Sor…cha…” Alesia stammered between sobs.

 

Sorcha blinked back tears and kept stroking her friend’s hair.

 

“It’s ok…”

 

“You came…” Alesia managed to speak out.

 

“Of course I did.” Sorcha smiled reassuringly. “Are you ok?”

 

Alesia wasn’t sure how to answer. She wasn’t hurt so she nodded. But she definitely wasn’t ok.

 

“We’re going to get you out of here. Gama fleet is in orbit. Loona is here.” Sorcha said.

 

Alesia pulled her legs up into herself and hugged them. “Moze?”

 

“He’s safe, he’s at the caves. Let’s go see if…”

 

There was a sickening squelching noise and Sorcha’s face froze in horror.

 

“I said to the death…”  Myrell whispered and pulled her short, boot blade out of Sorcha’s kidney.

 

Sorcha dropped to her knees and rolled over, closing her hand around Alesia and holding her as tightly as she could into herself. She could feel blood pouring out of her wound. It was bad.

 

Myrell kneeled over her, grinning. Hunched over with her arm hanging limp and bloody short blade clutched in her good arm.

 

“You think gravity can stop me?” Myrell spat. “You know we’re not weak like Titans! We’re better than that! Stronger than that!”

 

Sorcha didn’t reply. Myrell rolled her over on to her back and knelt on her legs. It didn’t matter, Sorcha didn’t think she had the strength to use them anymore.

 

“And now, my well-earned fun.” Myrell spoke, grinning from ear to ear. “Give me Alesia!”

 

“Téigh trasna ort féin” Sorcha said weakly.

 

Myrell’s response was swift. She punched Sorcha across the bridge of her nose, breaking it and exploding fresh blood over her face.

 

“Give me her!” Myrell screamed.

 

Sorcha didn’t respond. She tensed her arms, using all her strength to hold her fist together without crushing the precious cargo within.

 

Myrell grabbed Sorcha’s hand and tried to pry the fingers apart but Sorcha wouldn’t relent. And Myrell didn’t have enough hands to force her. Sorcha could feel the blood draining from her but she was going to make sure that Alesia survived. That was the most important thing.

 

“Give! Her! To! Me!” Myrell squealed.

 

But Sorcha wouldn’t.

 

Myrell grabbed her knife and slid it into Sorcha’s gut and she cried out.

 

“Just let her go…” Myrell whispered and twisted the knife.

 

Sorcha screamed in agony and focused on the one thing that mattered. She held her friend tightly to her chest and refused to let go.

 

“Give her to me!” Myrell said and turned the knife once again.

 

Sorcha screamed and thrashed but no avail. She only made her torment worse. But she wouldn’t give in.

 

Myrell’s face turned from amused to enraged as her prey refused to succumb. She reared up and raised her dagger above her head, ready to strike a killing blow.

 

Myrell stared down at Sorcha and screamed “GIVE! HER! TO!…”

 

THWUCK!

 

A plasma rifle shot hit Myrell in the side and she fell to the ground, dead. Her face twisted in a deranged mix of rage and agony.

 

“Sorry, what did you want? I couldn’t hear you over the sound of this rifle.” Joseph said, holding a plasma rifle’s stock to his chest.

 

He lowered the rifle and rushed over to Sorcha.

 

“Sorcha!? Are you ok?”  He said and pulled a first aid kit with an Imperial Navy logo on it.

 

She smiled meekly up at him. “Joseph…you’re supposed to be on a transport.”

 

He pulled out a tube of wound sealant gel and smeared it on the bleeding hole in her gut. As it hit the blood it bound to it, working its way into her wound and stemming the bleeding.

 

“And you’re not supposed to have a big hole in you!” He said panicking a little at the amount of blood.

 

“Joseph!” A small voice called. He looked down to see Alesia waving frantically at him.

 

“Are you ok Alesia?” He asked.

 

“Her back! Myrell stabbed her in her back!” she shouted.

 

Joseph quickly moved Alesia and rolled Sorcha on to her side.

 

“Oh frak…” He said. The wound was bad. He didn’t realise you could lose that much blood and still be conscious. He got another tube of wound sealant and applied as much as he could. It looked to be holding. “Still with me?”

 

Sorcha nodded. “Just about. Tired…”

 

“I know, but no sleeping just yet. We’ll get you out of here…” Joseph said looking into his pack for his pad. She needed a medivac.

 

“Lessy…are you ok?”  Sorcha asked.

 

Alesia approached her friend’s face. It was getting ghostly pale. “I am…I am…thanks to you.” She hugged her cheek and tried not to cry.

 

“What do I owe you now? Six?” Sorcha asked quietly.

 

Alesia had laughed and sobbed. “I think we can call it even.”

 

Sorcha smiled a little. “I wasn’t sure that day would ever come.”

 

“I told you not to repay it all at once.” Alesia said and started to cry.

 

“Medivac is coming.” Joseph said, a little panicked and took Sorcha’s hand. “Just don’t go anywhere…”