Chapter 35: Battered Prowess — Part 2
“We want it and the prisoners within intact.” Jerem warned.
“There probably aren’t any prisoners, the way the enemy works.” Tanya said.
“I say we strike with everything we are and everything we have, and take them swiftly. They know we’re here. But they may think that we’re just a small convoy forced down by enemy fire. If we strike now, we should be able to force a surrender.” Vertigo said.
“We could also wait for the symbiont to take them out.” Seva added quietly.
“They may have environmental suits, which could extend their survival as normals for weeks, if not years.” Vertigo said.
North and Rhombus set down in the distance, their ship smoldering but still intact. North ran quickly across the plains, Rhombus at his side.
“When do we attack?” North asked, sword and blaster drawn.
“As soon as Satrap Winson decides on a plan. We can’t attack from the air, so we have to crawl in like bugs.” Vertigo said. “I thought you were supposed to be with Shadow.”
“I left my troops with Shadow and came in for the real fight, by her orders.” North said. “She still hasn’t entirely forgiven me for our previous relations.”
“Blade has agreed to give us cover if they should try to send Cynosure craft against us.”
Satrap Winson made her decision. “Full force, through the broken wall. Hit hard, strike to kill. We’ll take this compound at all costs.”
Using the collective abilities of the Coalition stock, the best of the warriors moved to the front, dodging enemy fire. Seva had her dagger drawn and blaster ready, and her feet hit the ground sporadically. She hit the compound with Vertigo ahead of her, and the two of them carved a path of blood straight into the middle of a supply yard. Twenty Coalition warriors struck a compound of three hundred using their full abilities. Vertigo tossed her dagger at one enemy, and by her will it kept going, darting around and killing everyone it touched. North, being new to his abilities, fell to enemy fire almost before he made it into the compound. Rhombus, his logic shattered by North’s injury, took full offensive. The Pental was unstoppable, its tentacles slashing through enemies as if the laws of momentum meant nothing to it. It never missed a target; it never slowed its assault. Its purpose was plain and direct, even if not entirely logical — to ensure that North could not be overpowered while injured. Rhombus lost an eyestalk even as North sat up. Examining the blaster wound that had caught him in the chest, just above his heart, North looked up to see that Rhombus was already regenerating the missing eye. North shook off the pain, regained his senses, and joined his companion in the killing. War being a bloody and horrible thing, nobody spoke a word. Charles fell to a blaster shot, his armor taking the worst of the damage. He was up and fighting within seconds.
The capes were sure armor against enemy plasma. He spotted the Commander, and moved in for the kill. The enemy, concealed within environmental suits, looked monstrous to the Symbiotes. The Captain of the guard matched Charles blow for blow. Charles had him pinned, and was about to finish him when somebody shot the Antansi in the back. His cape absorbed the blast, but Charles flew forward striking a concrete pillar with bone numbing force. Stunned, Charles forced himself to roll over and find his enemy. Her shot had electrocuted and burned her Commander, killing him almost instantly.
“Don’t shoot.” Charles warned with a snarl.
She was close enough that she’d electrocute herself if she pulled the trigger. Some instinct triggered within him, and Charles entered her mind, his thoughts overpowering her own. She dropped her weapon and fell to the ground, convulsing violently. Charles began to affect those who were within range, striking one soldier after the other, sending a dozen troops into seizures before finding himself too mentally exhausted to overpower another. In desperation, the enemy launched its only spacecraft, the ship rising from its hangar and firing its weapons on friend and foe alike. Within seconds, Coalition warriors were blown to pieces from the devastation of mass cannon rounds lobbed into their squadrons at point blank range. Within seconds Winson’s forces lay trapped behind any cover they could find, calling for back up. Blade screamed into the compound, plasma cannons firing in a dazzling display of force. It moved without concern for damage, chasing the enemy fighter back into its hangar. Blade hovered, facing the fighter off, as if waiting.
