Kaiin’s Hells, he wished it were Arin he was getting close to, instead of this idiotic peacekeeper who stank of fear.
How had these humans obtained weapons anyway? Rykal thought all of their weapons had been seized.
Apparently not.
They must have kept a secret stash somewhere. Thefreighter was a large craft, after all. Too big for them to check every nook and cranny. Not that it mattered. Weapons or not, the outcome would be the same.
The human began to move, but Rykal placed a hand on his throat. “Don’t,” he murmured. The human froze. Rykal’s senses were stretched taut, demanding absolute concentration. His ears twitched as he listened, searching for variations in the silence.
“One, two, three, four, five, six, seven…”He mouthed the words silently in Kordolian, counting the footsteps, reading the patterns, detecting subtle differences in scent. “There are six or seven of them,” he said softly, “including you.”
“H-how?”
“Shh,” Rykal repeated. “If I have to tell you to be quiet again, you’re dead.” He flipped his dagger, turning it so the blade was facing towards him. He slammed the hilt of the dagger into the human’s skull, sending him crashing to the floor. The human slumped into an awkward pile of armor, weapons, and limbs. “Better yet, sleep for a while.” The human had been a pain-in-the ass, but he’d also been a valuable source of information. The only reason Rykal hadn’t killed him was because of a promise he’d made to Arin.
“Fine,”she’d grumbled.“I’ll do as you ask and go down to Nova Terra. But only if you promise not to harm any of my people while I’m gone.”
Rykal was a killer, but he didn’t break promises. That would be dishonorable. That’s why he rarely ever made promises.
“I’m not going to make any promises I can’t keep, but I’ll try my best not to harm them,”he answered honestly, “although it depends on whether they can behave themselves.”
A sharp buzz diverted his attention, bringing him back to the present. There was a small comm device in the unconscious human’s ear. Someone was babbling in human-speak. Rykal carefully extracted the comm from the man’s ear,untangling the crude speaking piece from his collar. “I’m coming for you,” he said, speaking into the comm. “If you give up now, I might let you live.”
The response was a few sharply uttered human words that sounded like cursing amidst crackling static. Rykal sighed. Why did these humans have to become difficult all of a sudden?
When Arin was here, they’d been disciplined and sensible, but now, this rabble of humans seemed to fancy their chances against him. Rykal was about to show them how misguided they were. He had to act fast. There were thousands of humans onboard this freighter, including fifty-odd peacekeepers.
There were six Kordolians.
The humans had to be kept in a state of fear. It was the only way to keep them controlled.
So far, the humans had been too afraid of them to try and take them on, but it was only a matter of time before someone got cocky and stupid and decided he or she could start a revolution.
Point in case.
Two more humans approached him. They were spooked now, judging from the way they walked, their steps shuffling and hesitant. Humans were so awkward and clumsy, just like children. Rykal sheathed his dagger and issued a mental command, summoning the virus-impregnated nano-particles that dwelled in his bloodstream. They were reinforced with Callidum, and when they coalesced over his body, they formed an impenetrable barrier.
Rykal’s body was already protected by his hard-yet-flexible suit of exo-armor, but he’d left his face bare. Now he summoned his helm, welcoming the familiar burn as the sub-cellular particles swarmed through bone and tissue and skin. They could try to punch him, stab him, shoot him, burn him, and impale him, but nothing would get through.
Rykal began to run, heading towards the source of the sound. He left every one of his weapons sheathed or holstered. He didn’t want tokillthe damn humans unless it was absolutely necessary, so he would use only his hands.
For a First Division warrior like Rykal,notkilling was much harder than taking a life. It required restraint, and when it came to fighting, Rykal had never had any reason to show restraint.
But now, he thought of Arin, and for some reason, he wanted to please her.
Like a swift shadow, Rykal descended on the humans, who were moving in some kind of back-to-back formation, their guns held before them, their green goggles glowing in the darkness. One of the humans had enough wits about him to fire off a shot of bolt-energy. The white beam struck Rykal in the chest, but it didn’t slow him down. His fist smashed into the human’s face, sending him crashing to the floor. The second human whirled, cursing.
Rykal’s hands closed around his neck as the human tried to angle his gun towards Rykal’s head. “It won’t work against me,” Rykal grated, as he tried to figure out how to put this one down. He settled for squeezing the points on the human’s neck where he presumed the large arteries ran.
The human struggled a bit, then slumped. As soon as his body went limp, Rykal released his grip. He didn’t want to strangle the guy.
Well, he did. For stupidity.
But for now, this would do.
There were four left.
The next three were easy targets. All Rykal needed to do was punch, chop, elbow, and strangle. He dropped them all, sustaining only a few blasts from those irritating bolt-weapons. The shots hurt like hell as his armor absorbed them, but they didn’t cause any permanent damage.
