In moments, the first section of the alley was clear. He sent Mara an approving nodshed been fast and efficient, as unflappable as any 8th Wing senior officer.
Weapon drawn, he eased into the alley. His gaze never halted, assessing every position, gauging all possibilities. Mara, sleek as a silver cat, moved beside him, plasma pistols in both her hands. They both fired at and took out a merc peering around the corner of the intersection. Hard to know whose shot did the trick, but all that mattered was neutralizing another threat.
The intersection ahead bothered him. He and Mara had decent cover between the buildings now,
but they would be exposed and at risk in the junction.
We go through back-to-back, he said. Guard every angle.
In wordless agreement, she turned and pressed her back to his. Even this brief contact felt damn good, regardless of the circumstances. Which meant he needed to stay particularly sharp, to keep her safe. He recognized, too, her unprecedented trust in him, giving him her back.
They made a strange but fitting creature, edging sideways into the intersection. His fears were well-founded. Knots of mercs hid there, around the corners. Kell fired into the group he faced, feeling Mara do the same behind him. He couldnt turn to check on her progress. A moments distraction meant a moments vulnerability, so he kept up his barrage. Mercs went down. He didnt hiss or wince when one guards shot grazed his thigh. He simply shot back, and the merc fell to the ground,
motionless.
The moment happened quickly. It happened slowly. He was aware of himself and Mara working in perfect accord, clearing out the threats, trusting one another. It was a dancefluid motion,
synchronicity. It seemed, unexpectedly, the most intimate thing in the world, to fight alongside Mara.
Past the intersection, and both still alive. Now they only needed to sprint toward the hangar door ahead. Mara followed his unspoken command, and together they ran.
They were yards from the door when a new contingent of mercs appeared from around a nearby building, firing.
Hold them off long enough for me to get us inside, he shouted above the blasts.
Done!
Using his tech implants, he triggered the microbot hed planted inside earlier. He helped her hold back the mercs, firing into the group, while simultaneously guiding the bot into the hangars defense system. The system was complexclearly a heap of creds had been spent on getting the latest and most secure techbut it took less than a second for him to breach it. A satisfying hiss and sizzle as the bot overrode the protocols.
The door slid open, and just in time. Fresh reinforcements joined the fray, adding a whole new barrage of plasma fire to an already tight situation.
Kell pushed her through the open door, stepped inside the hangar, and sealed the door shut behind them.
Gunfire met them inside too. He took out the two guards before either of them could fire another shot.
Red filmed his gaze when he saw the wound on her shoulder. Ill fucking kill them.
Nothing some Lulani rum cant fix. She scowled, though, when she noticed his blood darkening his pants. Or maybe we both can kill those bastards.
Sounds satisfying. Id rather just get us the hell out of here.
I like that flight plan.
They jogged up to the Black Wraith. He used his implants to activate the ship. A hand-shaped indentation appeared in its side, and he placed his hand within it, synching his thoughts with the ships systems. He ran a quick diagnostic and was gratified to find that no one had been able to tamper with or breach the Black Wraith while it had been in the smugglers custody. Once, long ago, he had been disturbed by the
idea of aligning his mind with a machine, becoming part of its matrix, just as it permeated his consciousness. But soon he had come to learn the process, even welcome it. Elegant and streamlined, without the divide between pilot and ship.
The hatch opened, revealing the narrow cockpit. Mara eyed the ship cautiously.
Am I supposed to sit on your lap?
He concentrated, and couldnt help but smile when Mara gave a startled yelp. The ship responded to his mental commands, actually shifting and reconfiguring its interior. A process both liquid and mechanical as components altered, remade themselves. No longer did the ship seat just one person. At his directive, the Black Wraith could now accommodate a pilot and a gunner in a rotating turret, and all within a few seconds work, rather than losing days on making modifications.
No wonder PRAXIS wants its claws on these ships Mara reverently touched the ships hull.
He disengaged from the exterior control panel. The door to the hangar shook with the force of heavy plasma gunfire. It wouldnt be long before the mercs breached the door.
Mara didnt complain when he boosted her into the gunners position, then slid himself into the pilots seat. It felt familiar, exactly right. He hadnt been in the cockpit of a Black Wraith in almost a week, and he missed it.