The scans showed the Terrans getting closer, coming in from all sides.
And then they emerged.
“Well, well. If it isn’t the mighty Veta,” came one man’s voice.
Veta’s posture relaxed. “Well, hell. I thought they’d send someone important.” She stepped away from Wrathin. “You’re still a messy fuck, I see.” She gestured to the settlement. “What’s the matter? Don’t trust your shots? Gotta mutilate them too?”
The Terran smirked. “Wounds heal. Heads don’t reattach.”
“Yet,” Wrathin muttered.
The Terran heard him and leveled his blaster on him. “Come on, mech. Come at me.”
The other Terran soldiers started to close in on Wrathin and Veta. He glanced over his shoulder to see Veta, taking a few steps toward one of the Terrans. A man who looked a little older than her.
“What’s your damage, old man?” Veta said. “Planning on shooting me too?”
“If that’s what it takes,” he replied. “Found out in a war zone. Seems fitting you’re going to die in one.”
Wrathin glanced at Veta, but she didn’t look back at him. Instead, she remained focused on the leading Terran. Her expression neutral, her posture relaxed. She took a few more steps, keeping him between her and the other Terrans, so she was just before the leader.
“You don’t want it to end like that,” he said. “Come on, kid. Join your old commander.”
She laughed. “Sure. Right after I shove this blade through my eye. Because that’s just about as fun as working for you again.”
“Veta,” Wrathin whispered, shifting so he could see more—what she was doing, as well as what the other Terrans were doing. They closed in, surrounding the two of them.
Veta, however, didn’t seem to care.
“Kid, it doesn’t have to be this way.”
“Listen, old man. I don’t play these games. Not even with you. I have a higher calling.”
The old man snorted. “Kid, you don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“And you do?” She asked.
He answered by bringing his blaster up to Veta. “You think this is about peace? You really think the Emperor sent his girls over here to make peace with the mechs?”
“We’re here.”
“You’re not his daughter. You’re just a hired gun. A hired, expendable gun.”
“You’re still a dickhead,” she said.
And Veta fired.
Where she had that little weapon, Wrathin wasn’t sure, but it didn’t matter.
The old man ran. Veta took off after him.
It was precisely the distraction that Wrathin needed. He leaped at the nearest two soldiers and started to fight.
Knocked their blasters out of their hands.
Kick.
Punch.
