Sunrider Veniczar: Chapter 5 "YASMAR" (Indefinite Hiatus Project) (Patreon)

Previously:

Prologue: "Arcadius"

Chapter 1 "Alice"

Chapter 2 "Gestalt"

Chapter 3 "Raid"

Chapter 4 "Akane"

Alice had been languishing in her room when Ren came knocking, apparently deciding to collect the diminutive woman on her way to the bridge as the two ships approached their destination.

“Trust me, newbie,” said Ren with a roguish wink at Alice. “You never know when the next shore leave with this outfit comes around; stretch your legs whenever you get the chance. Next time we go on a 6 month deep space stake out, you can stare at your wall all you like.”

Alice merely sighed, allowing herself to be dragged out of her quarters, the two of them taking the lift to the command deck's level. “I'm not sure this is a good idea...” she muttered, unsure if Ren could even hear her.

“Yasmar’s always fun for first-timers,” Ren nattered on in equal parts cheer and terrifying warning. “We'll spill some drinks at Nexus, go shopping in the free markets, you and me! A girls' night out. You've never seen anything like it!”

“I don't-”

“But this isn't just a field trip,” warned Ren, her face suddenly transitioning to a stern, protective expression as she held up a finger pedantically. “Alice, you should stick close to me at all times! Yasmar's a... mixed bag, to say the least...”

Alice gulped nervously, thrown by Ren's sudden personality shift, wondering if the other woman had some kind of multiple personality disorder. But no sooner had she opened her mouth to reply, Ren's face melted again into an expression of eager excitement, her voice practically bubbling with anticipation.

“Ah, Yasmar's fine for anyone who can handle themselves! It might not be safe, but it's the closest thing to freedom in Imperial Space,” Ren said with admiration. “Listen up, newbie! You stay with me and we'll have a great time! And come back in one piece!”

“All right, all right,” Alice sighed wearily, Ren's hyper personality already beginning to drain her vitality after only a few minutes together.

“Great!” Ren slapped Alice on the back. “You and me! Sisters! UWAHAHA!”

The lift came to a halt before Alice could say anything, admitting the two to the Akane's bridge. Ren immediately bounced out, floating over to the command station where Obarin was speaking with Thala and Serge. Alice stepped out with less enthusiasm, the lift sealing behind her with a definitive thud, standing awkwardly at the bridge's threshold, looking around at the new surroundings.

The Akane’s bridge was located somewhere near the center of its interior space and along its reinforced axial spine, relying upon the intervening decks and internal plating from the hull for protection rather than heavy external armor like that of the hull of the Blackhart. The bridge itself was nothing to remark upon, having a standard layout embraced across the galaxy by all major ship designers. Forward holo screens, showing nothing but black and a countdown to their destination as the ship sailed through warp space, arrayed themselves in a panoramic view, giving the bridge crew a view of the surrounding space as though they were in some kind of observation blister on the forward prow of the ship. A command dais took central prominence with two seats and a boggling array of tactical and ship displays arrayed between the Captain's and XO's seat. Apart from that, several stations which Alice assumed handled the helm, navigation, weapons control, damage control, and other vital ship functions fanned out in front of and to the sides of the command dais.

“Alice,” Obarin's voice called to her from across the bridge, the man waving her forward. “Stop sulking and come on in. We don't hold to any rigid protocols on this ship, so feel free to come and go.”

Alice nodded, approaching the group.

“Ren says you want to come with the landing party to Yasmar.”

“I-” Alice felt a wave of exasperation, locking eyes with Ren. The other woman's bright emerald eyes sparkled with playfulness and a puppy's innocence. Inwardly, Alice felt her misgivings crumple; not wanting to let Ren down when she was clearly going through pains to foster a closer relationship, even if it was out of some misguided sense of sisterhood.

For a moment, she felt an echo of an echo in her mind. 'Sister...' Sadness welled up in Alice's chest as she threatened to fall backwards into her memories. With effort, she pulled herself back, looking between Ren's expectant face and Obarin's slightly befuddled one.

“Err... yes. Yes.”

“Hmm....” Obarin looked between the two and shrugged. “Well, far be it from me to stop you. Just fair warning though; Yasmar's not the most... savory of places in this galaxy. In fact-”

Obarin's voice was cut off by a calm, pulsing noise. On the forward screens, the countdown had almost reached its conclusion. “All right, positions people,” ordered Obarin, dropping the thought and swiveling a few screens closer to him as the rest of the bridge snapped to.

“Transitioning from warp, Arcadius,” Ren announced to the rest of the bridge as the countdown reached single digits, dropping into the seat beside him. “Disengage warp drives on my mark. Mark!”

The Akane eased out of warp with the Blackhart hard on her heels, the bridge's front screens activating, bright light from the Blackhart's warp transition momentarily blotting out everything else.

A proximity klaxon rang out almost right away and the entire ship groaned as Alice felt the artificial gravity flutter to the side, forcing her to grab onto a handrail, staggered, indicating an almost emergency lateral thrust maneuver taken automatically by the ship's navigation suite.

“What a jerk” muttered Obarin as the forward screens activated properly to show a myriad of ships coming and going from a large central space station, a particularly ponderous civilian cargo freighter plowing straight towards the Akane and the Blackhart and between them as the two ships tumbled to the side. “People here always drive like maniacs…”

Alice looked at the scene with surprise. She’d assumed Yasmar was a planet, but the station hung in the dark of space alone, orbiting a lone star without any associated planet.

The station itself was bizarrely configured, extending haphazardly in all directions. On closer inspection, a dark, torus shaped hull seemed to form the foundation for the station before it exploded outwards in the cancerous metastatic growth that crusted the underlying superstructure, layer after layer of ramshackle extensions that probably represented centuries of unplanned, unregulated expansion and growth from the station proper. Dozens of cargo and merchant ships approached the unsettlingly organic station, looking like toys as they glided up to the hull, docking with Yasmar via tangles of umbilical tubing and extended booms.

“Welcome to Yasmar,” declared Obarin, rising and clapping Alice on the shoulder. “No other place in the galaxy like it. Started out as a deep space trading post that grew over the centuries. The New Empire technically claims this region of space, but Yasmar itself is more or less immune from the law. It’s the black market hub of the galaxy, no good or service is off limits here and there’s probably more platinum that flows through Yasmar than any Imperial core world other than New Eden. It’s too convenient, even for the most highbrow of Imperial magistrates to even dream of shutting down. And would probably crash the galactic economy to boot. Of course, just because the platinum flows through Yasmar, doesn't mean the people here benefit. Conditions here are fairly appalling for your average citizen, the Imperials are perfectly happy leaving the place fallow without civil infrastructure or support and the crime lords and syndicates of the galaxy aren't any more interested in charity work than New Eden is.”

“So we’re safe here?” asked Alice as the Akane’s bridge crew called Yasmar’s docking control for a berth. Ren transmitted a fake ship registry to a bored looking station employee who almost certainly knew the registry was forged but was equally apathetic about it, merely going through the motions of formality to satisfy some superficial skein of legitimacy.

“Safe’s probably not the word I would use…” mused Obarin. “But what passes for the authorities here won’t bother us. This is probably the single biggest concentration of criminals, thieves, and galactic lowlifes on this end of the galaxy. We probably don’t even count as criminals compared with some of the big-timers here.”

Alice looked out at the dark station dubiously. “What are we doing in a place like this?” she asked, trying not to wrinkle her nose with distaste.

“We’re about to steal one of the Empire’s newest prototype warships. For that, we’re going to need the most notorious pirate this century, Kuushana. She’s not exactly what I’d call great dinner company, but if anyone can pull the job off, it’s her. Fortunately for us, she’s not a fan of the Empire either. We’ve done jobs together before. I don’t always like her methods, but she’s fair. In her own way.” Obarin sounded like he was trying to reassure himself as much as Alice. “Makes sense to look for her here. Virtually every illegal ship or good passes through Yasmar to change hands at some point. Even if Kuushana’s not here, we’ll at least get an idea of where she’s gone. We have a contact here; an information broker. She's our best bet for tracking Kuushana down.”

Alice’s heart sank a little, wondering what her agreement with Ren had gotten her into. Yasmar grew larger as the Akane and the Blackhart burned closer, only growing more forbidding and unwelcoming as additional details became clear. Docking apparatuses and cargo lifts cast long, threatening shadows, several of the outermost extensions of the station appeared dark and abandoned, burned through by some kind of ship-scale beam weapon, evidence of a deal gone sour at some point.

“A-Ah!” Alice gasped in surprise as a brightly lit window suddenly cracked and exploded outwards with a rush of crystallizing atmosphere. Several people, looking for all the world like ragdolls whizzed out into space with the depressurization before an armored plate slid over the hull breach, twitching for a few moments before they stopped moving entirely.

“Seems like the locals are starting the night early,” remarked Obarin with a heavy sigh as Alice stared in horror at the spectacle, feeling faint. “On the other hand, just about everyone here is wanted on at least a dozen worlds. Most of them have even earned it.  Ren, send word to Elidia and set up a rendezvous. Time to find our pirate queen.”

******

Having spent a significant fraction of her life living aboard a space station herself, Alice figured there’d be at least some familiarity or commonality between life aboard her station and life aboard Yasmar, but what greeted her as she stepped off the Akane with Obarin, Ren, Serge, and Thala to meet Niels and his chosen shore crew made her wish almost instantly she’d found some excuse to stay aboard the Akane, regardless of how it would look to Ren.

Swelteringly hot and humid with the pungent odor of spice mixed with the raw stench of sweat and sewage, the spaceport common felt more like a tropical marketplace on some class 7 planet than the sterile, controlled environment she'd taken for granted in space. Along the wall of the rounded commons, arrayed with no apparent order or logic, nearly a dozen food vendors hawked meals to passing travelers, merchants, and local louts ranging from dubious, heavily spiced chunks of meat on skewers to bowls of thick, brownish nutrient paste made somewhat closer to general palatability by any flavor enhancers or texture compounds the vendors could get their hands on, ladled from steaming pots crusted with dried and burned nutrient paste batches from years past.

The entire common hummed with dull activity, hooded individuals moving sluggishly about their business, dragging luggage and cargo crates of all shapes and sizes or just sitting, faces obscured, looking for all the world like they were staring at their feet. In fact, it seemed to be something of a fashion here in Yasmar to conceal one’s face, be it behind a hooded cloak, under the wide, low brim of a kasa hat, or behind bulky respiratory gear with tinted eyeholes. Alice felt a prickle of discomfort as a number of the local denizens turned to look at her and the rest of the Compact members as they walked into the common proper, feeling as though she was violating some kind of unspoken rule about public decency. Only Obarin, his face shielded by the silvered Mask of Arcadius seemed to fit in, ironically drawing far less attention from the locals than his compatriots were.

“Such a pretty little thing...”

Alice jumped, finding a hunched old man next to her who’d crept up silently while she was distracted by the sight in front of her. Beneath the brim of his hat, his eyes were wild with a shade of electric blue, seeming to stare off towards some spot over her shoulder rather than at her. When he smiled, she saw little more than gums with a few moldy remnants of what used to be his teeth.

“Five platinum?” grinned the man, jingling a leather pouch filled with coins as Alice fell backwards in disgust and horror.

Obarin put a steadying hand on her shoulder, pushing the old man away with his other. “Not for sale,” he said brusquely, walking forward without making eye contact.

The old man merely shrugged as if it were of no consequence, pocketing his money and disappearing as Obarin pushed Alice through the throngs of people.

“Obarin…” Alice felt weak, trying to find the words that would make him give her leave to return to the Akane and wait for a resolution to the mission in blissful solitude. Nausea and revulsion rose like a wave, bubbling up her throat as she stared around her at the destitute mass of humanity before her. 'Savages... Animals... scurrying and crawling about for scraps of food, copulating and reproducing out of control... wallowing in the filth of their own excrement...'

“It's different than what you expected isn't it?” Obarin's voice sounded grim as he let go of her shoulder, walking beside her. “There's disbelief etched all over your face. Would it surprise you to know that more stations in Imperial Space look like this than not? I don't know what's more depressing, seeing this firsthand or knowing there are places out there that are worse.”

“Worse?” Alice hung close to the group as they wove through dark, steamy alleyways between tenement structures, illuminated only by neon lighting from the stalls and establishments that lined the street and the occasional sullen light fixture. Inwardly, she was grateful for the lack of light, concealing her loathing behind the velvety shadows as she shied from Obarin's gaze.

“Ever hear of a planet called Ongess?”

“Give it a rest, Arcadius,” Niels's voice grumbled from behind. “It's always lecture after lecture with you. Listen,” Niels set a heavy hand on Alice's shoulder, causing her to flinch with its weight. “There's no lack of human suffering anywhere you look, but it doesn't do any good to just look at them and pity them,” Niels spared Obarin a glare before continuing. “It's up to these people to make a difference for themselves, to win their freedom by force, to take what they're owed with their own bare hands. When the Revolution starts in earnest, you'll see. You'll see that they don't need your pity or grief; they need the strength of the Compact.”

Alice looked uncertainly into Niels's dark eyes, unsure what to say.

“We're here,” Obarin said, cutting Niels off and sparing her the necessity of replying, leading the group to black steel door, utterly indistinguishable from the others around it.

As Obarin heaved it open, a palpable wave slammed into her; noise from easily a hundred conversations, all merging into incomprehensible babbling, the clinking and shattering of glass, bass beats playing from every direction in rhythmic cacophony. A moment later, the volatile smell of alcohol prickled her nose, suffused with the ever present smell of sweat and bodies mashed together.

'Creatures of base, primal instincts...' Steeling herself, Alice followed the others as Obarin delved into the bar's depths, finding a miraculously empty table in the corner and gesturing wordlessly to a practically naked waitress for a round of drinks.

“Could Elidia have picked a shadier bar or do we have you to thank for this?” grumbled Ren dangerously to Obarin with a meaningful glance at the no small shortage of women gyrating and stripping on the bar counter to the rancorous approval of the bar's patrons.

“Me!? I had nothing to do with this one!” Obarin protested indignantly, making a show of looking away from the bar's stage and making zero eye contact with the nubile waitress as she returned with their drinks. “With you, I would never-” Obarin's voice cut off, what little skin beneath his mask that was visible turning flaming red.

“Hmph!” Ren seemed unimpressed, putting her hands over Alice's eyes with moral superiority. “This isn't the Yasmar I wanted to show Alice!”

“Hah!” Serge cut in with his deep voice, thumping Obarin on the shoulder. “You've outdone yourself this time boss. This is Yasmar!” The large man's face split a giant grin as he hooked his thumb over towards the strippers with a wink to his sister.

“Want to come have some fun, Alice?” asked Thala with sweet venom, standing up and moving to join her brother.

“No she doesn't!” Ren declared after her before Alice could say anything. “Alice is pure-hearted, a virgin-”

“S-so who's Elidia?” asked Alice, deciding to steer the conversation away from dangerous waters and finally breaking free from Ren's censorship.

“An information broker,” Niels rolled his eyes at the display and helping himself to a drink, taking a gulp with a groan of approval. “Of formidable reputation I might add. The Compact's done business with her before a number of times.”

“She's sympathetic to the cause, which is the only reason we can afford her information in the first place,” added Obarin, clinking glasses with Ren and also taking a pull, the two of them shuddering before sighing; in appreciation or out of relief it was hard to tell.

Alice studied her own drink dubiously, the liquid inside looking exactly the same color and consistency as pitch with a smell to match. Deciding that she'd rather drink engine solvent, she pushed it away from herself slightly.

Niels snorted. “Nothing's ever free. She's got her own interests helping us.” Niels leaned in conspiratorially. “Rumor has it she's looking for something. The story goes she came from nowhere to Yasmar, which isn't unusual in of itself, asking about Ryuvian artifacts. Most people want to get their hands on weapons, but not her. She was after something... different... a casket.”

Alice felt herself dragged into the ghost story with earnest interest, leaning forward on the table towards Niels, who seemed to have been put in a good mood by the drink. The others crossed their arms or nursed their drinks, studied skepticism tempering their own personal curiosity. “A casket?” she asked, intrigued. “Why?”

Niels shrugged, looking pleased that he had enthralled his audience. “You'd have to ask her. Might be some treasure inside. Some Ryuvian emperor buried with something? Nobody knows, but the rest of the story goes like this: This group of geniuses tries to bag her, deciding a pretty girl like her's worth more to the slave markets than she can pay for information. It's a bar like this one, normal night, the gang's done kidnappings like this a hundred times before.”

Alice shuddered. “And then?” she whispered, unable to contain her intrigue despite the fact she suspected she knew where the story was going.

“They try putting her down with an electric shock,” Niels came to a dramatic climax to his story. “And she just smiles. Before they even blink, one man's dead. She beats the other five in the gang to death with the first one's sodding spine.” Niels leaned back in his seat, a smirk on his face. “Like I said, a formidable reputation.”

“There's no way,” Ren waved her hand dismissively. “Don't listen to that hogwash, Alice. That doesn't even make sense; no way a person's spine would hold together long enough to use as a weapon like that. I don't believe a word of it!”

“What's worse, I wonder? Gullibility to the point of naivety or a critical mind narrowed by preconception? As with finding the truth, the key is balance.”

A voice, quiet, but somehow cutting across the general din of the establishment accompanied the arrival of a woman completely at odds with her expectations. From Niels's story, she'd imagined Eli would have the appearance of a veteran mercenary, scarred and decked out in body armor like in the holos. Instead, the woman was lithe of build, all tendons and sinew, as pale as Alice, with brown-ash hair in two twintails that reached to her mid thighs. Her eyes, amber, flashed from under her short bangs as she took a seat and affixed each member of the table with a discerning look, seeming to peer not only at them, but through them.

“Confirmed by the woman herself, at least some of the story” Obarin nodded, pushing a drink towards the information broker.

“Not exactly, but maybe close enough.” Elidia's voice was playful, although she utterly ignored the drink. “But my past isn't information the Compact can afford. So I'm hoping you called me out for something other than a fun chat.”

“Kuushana. We were hoping you know where to find her,” answered Obarin, getting straight to the point.

Elidia considered him for a moment while Alice shifted, fascinated by the other woman. Elidia's eyes were distant, veiled behind smoke and mirrors, giving away absolutely nothing as she peered somewhere past Obarin. “Of course, that makes perfect sense that you would be looking for her,” Elidia smiled indulgently. “Well why not, nothing ventured... nothing gained,” she said contemplatively. “This you can have on me. Kuushana left Yasmar less than a week ago for Threala. I expect she'll still be there if you leave now.”

Obarin nodded. “It's not like you to give charity. If I didn't know better, I'd say you've gotten soft.”

Elidia shrugged. “The patterns are there, plain as day, if you have the perspective to see it. Even you can feel a shadow of it, can't you?”

Obarin said nothing, but exchanged a glance with Niels, the two of them frowning, but unable to deny the palpable gravity of their situation. Stealing one of the New Empire's most closely guarded prototype warships? The Compact suddenly had a lot of juice, committed to setting in motion a series of events that could lead to change on a galactic level; or it had bitten off far more than they could chew.

Elidia rose. “Consider it an investment. If you ever make it to New Eden, I might collect one day.” With that, the woman swept away, leaving the group unsure whether to feel relieved or on tenterhooks from her parting shot.

Niels knocked back the remainder of his drink, taking a deep breath to steady himself, from the alcohol or from the meeting, it was hard to tell. “Like I said, a formidable reputation.”

******

Barely an hour had passed since Elidia parted company with them, but Alice found her head ringing and her reserves drained by the incessant noise and crush of humanity surrounding her. Serge, Thala, and half a dozen other Compact members she'd forgotten the names of had disappeared into the nightlife scene. Niels, Obarin, and Ren swapped stories and memories of adventures past.

Sighing, Alice rose and eased out of the booth while the others were engaged. The rest of them shared a past, even if the Compact's shattered presence had cooled their ties through distance and time; whereas she was an outsider, an island, her past subsumed beneath the waves, a blessing and a curse in its own right.

Opening a side door, Alice eased out into a dark alleyway, even Yasmar's dank and fetid atmosphere welcome after being trapped inside the bar for so long. Ears ringing, she shook her head as though she were punch drunk, taking a few moments to regain her bearings and senses. Eyes adjusting to the dark, she set off down the alley towards the marginally brighter lights of another main thoroughfare.

HRREEE!!

A loud klaxon made Alice jump, her heart thumping wildly. Bright lights threatened to blind her from behind as a cargo-laden lorry pulled into the alleyway, its driver mashing on its horn and making what she took to be a local vulgar hand gesture. Alice had barely scrambled to the safety of a perpendicular alley when the lorry rumbled past, blowing dust and hot exhaust at her in its wake. Coughing, Alice backed away from the foul cloud, eyes watering, gagging.

Raising her hand to her mouth as she tried to rid it of the acidic aftertaste, she felt the tips of her fingers stopped prematurely by rough, leathery skin.

“A-ah-!” Alice barely had time to register surprise before the intervening hand clamped down over her mouth, pulling her backwards.

Limbs flailing helplessly, Alice felt herself bodily dragged yet another degree deeper into the warren of alleyways, her assailant's rough hands keeping an iron grip on her mouth and arm, utterly overpowering her. Wild thoughts chased each other, half-formed, in her fear-addled mind, her heart pounding so fiercely it felt like it was liable to burst at any moment. With a muffled scream, Alice felt herself round a corner, what little light remaining in the alley cutting off as her captor pulled her in after themselves.

She had to call out, scream, whatever. Something that would bring rescue. Yet again, Alice had found herself on her knees, at the mercy of the universe. Pitiful. Biting down, she felt the tang of iron and copper on her tongue as her kidnapper cursed, his voice hoarse and masculine.

“Uugh!” Alice's scream was less that than a grunt of pain as the man threw her body against the side of a building with a crunch, swiftly delivering a punch to her gut. Pain exploded through her body and even the inky darkness of her vision was doused as she crumpled to her knees and keeled over, curling into a fetal position and whimpering. “P-please...” Alice tasted bile, equal parts from pain and the humiliation of finding herself at the mercy of life's cruelties once again.

“Shut up.” The man's voice had no pity.

Alice wailed as burning pain erupted over her scalp, the man grabbing her by the plait and hauling her up. “I-I don't have any money!” she sobbed, a desperate corner of her mind hoping the man would take her at her word and leave her alone.

The rough hands groped her body indiscriminately, patting her down with the familiarity of having done so on numerous occasions before, confirming her claim. “No, you don't,” the man grunted, a hint of disappointment in his voice. The hand continued, now slower, dithering obscenely. “But that doesn't mean you don't have something of value...”

“N-no-” Alice choked, her breath crushing out of her as she realized what was happening. The pressure on her hair eased momentarily as she was dropped, only to have the same hand pin her by the throat, driving her backwards, back to the wall, with another crunching impact.

Stunned, Alice could only gag, her hands scrabbling over the man's grip on her neck futilely as he pushed himself between her, his free hand grabbing bunches of her clothing, the sounds of tearing fabric mingling with the choking, gurgling sounds now coming from her.

Tears rolling down her cheeks, Alice felt the world sucked away, as though through a long tunnel, wondering if she'd wake from the ordeal when it was over. Preferably not. Better to fade into oblivion than to return to the universe only to be broken in yet another way.

Falling backwards, Alice felt herself drop, the ground opening up to swallow her from below. Her lungs burned, an intense fire as air rushed back in. Her vision came back slightly and she became aware of voices; another growl, this one... familiar. Head lolling to the side, Alice coughed and sputtered weakly as gags wracked her body.

She caught a sensation of motion, blurred movements too hard and fast to discern in the dark and as injured as she was. Some grunts of pain and a cry came out over the sounds of heavy blows before a heavy crash erupted over her, ending with a large man's bulk crumpling beside her as she cried out and floundered away from the commotion.

Two hands reached out and grabbed her small frame again.

“Let go! Let GO!” Alice shrieked, attacking the hands wildly for a few moments before feeling the difference. These hands were no less rough, but held her with a sense of calm and heartening stoutness, still and resolute even against her clawing. Letting loose with a sob, she wrapped around one of the hands with both her own, holding it with all her strength, allowing it to pull her back upwards to life.

“O-Obarin...”

“No.”

Alice felt the hands leave as suddenly as they'd come. Eyes widening in shock, she looked up, forcing her head upwards as she knelt on the hard, filthy ground beneath her.

Niels towered over her, his face hidden in shadow. “No...” he repeated, the edge of harshness in his voice replaced with what sounded like weariness. He reached down towards her, extending his hand as he helped her back up to her feet.

“Niels... I-” Alice wiped her face, unable to look her rescuer in the eye. “I'm-”

“Forget it,” Niels's face remained shrouded, but Alice saw him shake his head. “Are you alright? Wandering off like that by yourself on Yasmar... there are easier and more pleasant ways to die, Alice.”

Alice just stared wordlessly at the man who'd attacked her. He was large, rippling with muscle and at least a head taller than Niels; she'd never stood a chance, although judging from the man's injuries and blinding speed at which he'd been incapacitated, the fight with Niels had been utterly one-sided despite his impressive stature. “Is he…?”

“Not yet.”

Alice started a little as Niels answered her question before she'd even finished it, understanding her perfectly and coming around her from behind. She heard a sound come from him, metal brushing against leather before clacking against itself, a locust whine filling the alley for a moment. A second later, Alice felt something heavy and cold being pressed into the palm of her hand, Niels's large, warm palm cupping her hand on the other side, steadying her trembling and lifting her arm gently to a forty-five degree angle.

“Do you need to see his face first?” he asked.

Alice looked down at the man's blank face, hidden behind a gas mask and goggle combination. Hate, rage, and revulsion coursed through her blood like a poison, filling her and overflowing. The universe and all its sickness, her pitiful weakness and sheltered existence, the wretched, damned animals she'd been taught to call her fellow man; all of it came to a head as Alice channeled the fury and disgust, pulling the trigger over and over again until the bright blue flashes had etched every last millimeter of her vision with rainbow spots. Heat rising in waves off the barrel of Niels''s laser pistol, the smell of cooked blood and meat filling the air, Alice felt her knees buckle, turning limp as she let his arm take her weight.

“Alice!”

The sound of footsteps echoed along the alley as Obarin, Ren, and some of the others burst onto the scene, panting, having clearly run towards the sound and light of the gunfire. Alice felt herself and Niels spin around, his hand smoothly taking the gun back with a little sleight of hand to distract the others as they came around.

“Alice!” Ren rushed forward, face wan and pale as she took the smaller woman by the arm, shouldering her weight from Niels, leading her away.

“Niels!” Obarin stood rooted to the spot, eyes darting between Alice's stunned appearance and the brutalized man behind Niels. “What happened?! Did you-?”

Dark blood pooled beneath the heels of Niels's boots as he holstered the gun, engaging its safety with a decrescendo as the gun released its charge. Wordlessly, he pushed past Obarin and the others.

Alice's eyes tracked his bloody boot prints as they faded away into dust and darkness.