Page 14 of Salvation for the Alien Mercenary

“That’s when the principal is most vulnerable. Any smart attacker hits now, halfway between shelters.”

On-screen, Ryke exited first, then Stormix, tentacles writhing as the crowd roared. Rann followed close, hand hovering near the rock star’s back.

They made it three steps before the first energy bolt sliced the air. Mira half rose, nearly spilling Spot.

“Oh my God!”

“Shh!” Anson hissed, splitting the feeds.

Figures rappelled from the hall’s walls. Others burst from cargo containers—straight into Reaper crosshairs. Pulse-rifle glow lit the courtyard; concrete erupted into shards.

“Contact, multiple hostiles!” Ryke barked. He shoved Stormix toward the entrance. “Rann, with me!”

Rann dropped to one knee, his repeater unleashing blue-white energy while he backed through the door.

Mira’s hand covered her mouth as the massive door sealed with a thunk.

Covak’s war cry thundered. Jesh’s view showed him charging, skin flushing deep red as claws extended with an audiblesnick.

Back on Davis’s feed, a blast obliterated a planter, ceramic slicing his cheek. “Fuck!” He ducked, steadied, returned fire: three shots, three hostiles down.

Jesh spun through incoming fire, shoulder cannons targeting multiple attackers. Her feed never stopped moving.

“M’Suun clan?” Anson whispered, zooming a crest on enemy armor. “What the draanth are they doing here?”

“Give me access!” Mira snapped. “I can help.”

“Yeah, sure, console live.”

Five feeds filled her station. Red for hostiles; blue for cover; yellow for firing lines, the battlefield unfolding like a three-D sim.

“Covak, Jesh, two hostiles left, high ground. Davis is pinned!”

Jesh answered instantly, one cannon swiveling to vaporize the threat. Davis rolled to an overturned vendor cart, picked off another attacker.

Through Jesh’s cam Mira spotted a gunner on an overhead walkway, weapon crackling with violet energy.

“Davis, above you!” The warning came too late.

The bolt struck Davis’s shoulder, spinning him. His feed stuttered with static as purple arcs crawled across his armor.

“Fuck,” he groaned; his hand went numb, pistol clattering away. He caught the wall, the feed flickering again.

“Davis!”

Spot chirped, forelegs tapping her arm. She barely noticed; nothing existed but that flickering feed and the pulsing light gnawing at Davis’s chest.

This was supposed to be routine, a diva’s escort to a concert.

Simple. Safe.

Now everything had gone to shit.

* * *

The world turned upside downin a heartbeat.

The energy bolt slammed into Davis’s chest, knocking him flat on his ass in the middle of the crowded plaza. Stars exploded behind his eyes while the air around him crackled with ozone from the blast that had hit him squarely in the chest armor.