A Big Shiny Blue Marble Ch. 26

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TaLtos6
TaLtos6
1,930 Followers

What drew her attention was the display in her left lens. It showed other versions of the status indicators in the heads-up display; battery state, total number of available shots, number of rockets ...

That was it. She focused again and saw that the rocket count was in two groups on this model. There were twenty, and then a little to the side of that, it showed two more. The type designation indicated that those two were heat-seekers, where the others were unguided, you just pointed and that was it. But the last two...

She focused on the left and saw that there was a lock indicator for the heat-seeker type and wanted to groan. The ones that she'd used in her day had been largely useless, designed more to give the meg gunner a safe feeling if they were faced with low-flying craft. They'd always just been dead weight to Shaevre, since every time that she'd tried one, they'd either never acquired the target or they wouldn't hold their lock on it.

She glanced up again and saw NyZ'eille coming back for another pass. This was her fear. The dolts thrashing around in front of her were little more than hazards to each other to her, but once she began this, Ny'Zeille wouldn't just hang around up there waiting for the outcome. And the fools were getting closer every second. Soon she wouldn't be able to wait any longer.

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They were winded from their loping run and this uphill walk up the draw didn't help things any. "I want to get my teeth into that bitch's throat," the largest of them hissed and rumbled. "I owe her a lot of payback."

"Shut up and walk," one of the officers said, "I can't see a thing for your fat back end in front of me. I have a score to settle too, but I want to see if I can at least see a little ahead once we get to the top of this."

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One hundred fifty, Shaevre thought, getting close. She could see the dark outlines in her goggles clearly now. She glanced up without moving her head. If this went on like this for much longer, then Ny'Zeille might spot Dahlgren and Azrael who were coming somewhere behind her, she mistakenly thought. If the demon spotted Faith, she'd attack instantly, Shaevre knew, and that fight would be behind her, where she'd be of little use, having to deal with these idiots first.

She waited, her thumb on the fire selector and an idea in her mind. Would this even work? She tended to want to doubt the heat-seeker's ability; they'd never worked for her before. But that was a while ago, and this was a newer model of meg.

Even if it did, could she handle seven threats at once?

As Ny'Zeille passed into her field of view once more, heading away, she raised the muzzles slowly and selected the heat-seekers.

To her amazement, she saw a six-tenths lock flashing on both missile icons in her display and heard the rattle in her earpiece that they'd acquired and locked onto the demon. Five was supposed to be enough. The only thing that she could think of was that the sky offered a cold background and demons were warm -- at least this one's asshole seemed to be.

Shaevre decided to roll the bones. She held to see if the lock signals wavered or dropped out, but they didn't.

"Come down here and fight like poor people," she whispered.

She selected ripple-fire and squeezed. Her view was obscured instantly as the small rockets leapt out of their tubes one behind the other and she lowered the muzzles and switched back to the gun. The little beauties were on their own now. Shaevre wanted to smile.

Even if the demon looked back now ...

She settled the impact point in her goggles onto the fat bastard there in front of her. The usual stupid grin turned into a look of alarm from the sound of the rockets and what he saw in front of him.

As the first of the missiles slammed into Ny'Zeille from behind, Shaevre's finger tightened on the trigger button for about a third of a second and Meg began her short, keening, single-toned song of death. The six barrels spun and in that short time, ten projectiles snapped out across the distance. Eight were good hits and two of them passed through the target cleanly, hitting nothing but the officer behind him. The heavy Xer that she'd aimed at fell, torn mostly in two as the empty casings flew sideways from Meg's ejection port.

In the sky above, Ny'Zeille's world became one of smoke and pain as the second of the pair found her. With no structural metal to trigger their proximity fuzes, both missiles were detonated by their impact fuzes, and the metal shards in their little warheads ripped through her flesh. Her wings folded and she fell to earth in agony, landing hard in a heap of scorched flesh.

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"The team is under fire," Xhan's voice spoke through the earpiece in Arrax' ear. "At least one is down and they call for support."

Arrax kept running, "Do not acknowledge," he smiled, "or ask them why six of them can't manage to kill one female. Remain on the ground. They are frightened, that is all. One person shoots and they call for help. Such fierce fighters, these pretenders."

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Seven miles away, Azrael saw the explosions and turned. Faith called to Dahlgren and pointed. They turned together. On the other side of the ridge, the two Drow heard the short whistling tone of Meg and began to run cautiously.

Meg's barrels hadn't even slowed to a stop when Shaevre had the female officer in her sights and as that one raised her rifle, already squeezing the trigger before she'd even looked to see where the threat to her was, Meg sang again, the shrill snarling whine ringing through the mountains for only an instant once more.

The rest of them were all firing in panic now, and Shaevre knew that likely none of them even knew where they ought to be shooting. It was almost beyond her comprehension as she watched the twinkling of the muzzles on their rifles. Behaviour like this where she was from would earn you cracked ribs from an angry leader, if nothing else.

She looked out farther and saw the officer who liked to watch 'bitch fights', she remembered. He was running in the other direction, back the way that they'd come.

Well that would earn you something completely different where she was from, so she raised her impact point and squeezed to make sure that he'd get it. He'd have fallen on his face, but the twelve rounds which found him stitched up his back and the last three removed most of his head.

By now, the fools had found her and they began to try to concentrate their desperate fire in her direction. But their rifles ran dry one after another from their wasteful shooting and they all needed to reload. As they frantically reached for more magazines, Shaevre gave it some thought.

Out of six, two were dead and one probably so, wounded at the least. That left three terrified goons trying desperately to get their fingers to work so that they could reload.

She looked off to where Ny'Zeille had landed and groaned to herself. The demon was moving a little. Two heat-seekers up her ass and she was trying to regenerate.

If the others didn't come soon, she'd be at this all day, just trying to kill the demon.

She switched to rockets and sent a few off that way with her love. Saplings fell outwards from the point of impact and some just disappeared as Shaevre created an instant clearing around the demon. She knew that this likely wasn't the end of the Ambassador as she stepped out from cover to deal with the rest.

She walked quickly, firing short bursts as she went. This wasn't even a fight, she decided. The last of the three was the one who'd liked to tell fanciful lies to the others about how many times he'd 'had' Shaevre. When she walked up to him, he began to beg as he held onto his midsection.

"You told stories of being a Death hound, and of fucking me," she said as she looked down, "What do you want me to do? There is no way that you will live more than a few minutes like this. I don't know which is the bigger fantasy -- you fucking me or that a stricken Death hound begs for his life."

She pointed the muzzles at his face, "Ask me for what a real Death hound would ask from another and I will grant it. Hurry."

He squeezed tears from his eyes as he blinked and she knew that he was still in denial about his fate either way. "Please, "he began.

Meg's muzzles spun and ended his suffering.

"Near enough," Shaevre said as she turned away, pleased that she'd managed to keep the burst so brief. She looked and saw that Ny'Zeile was still struggling, so she selected rockets again and fired two, carefully aiming each time. They exploded, but when the smoke and disturbed snow cleared, Shaevre still saw movement.

She really hoped that she'd have a little help soon.

A spray of snow kicked up into her face, and Shaevre was reminded of the last lower rank, the one who had actually put up a fight in front of Arrax a few days ago. She turned and strode off in that direction.

The wounded female lay on her front, using the upper body of her fallen comrade to hold up her weapon and hide a little. Her gut was shot out and she knew that she'd be dying here, but until then ...

"What is she doing now? Vadren asked Cha'Khah as they watched.

Cha'Khah shook her head, looking at the two enemies as this scene played out.

The one lying down tried to aim and fired in short bursts while Shaevre walked toward her with Meg singing in short notes as she did. The wounded Xer was hit twice more, but she still lived until the two of them looked at each other across maybe ten feet of ripped up and bloody snow.

The female's rifle was empty again and she reached back for another magazine as Shaevre watched with her barrels up.

"I am sorry now," the female gasped painfully while she reached backwards for the magazine on her harness as she lay mortally wounded, "You deserved better from me."

Shaevre made no reply as she looked down.

"If I had not been such a snotty fool, I might have made a friend worth knowing," she sniffled a little. Her hand twitched behind her as she yanked to bring it forward, but Meg was already whining her tune by then and the female slumped in death.

"No," Shaevre said, as she nudged the hand out of the way with her foot to see the pistol that it held, "You'd still be the treacherous one that I would never trust."

"You filthy slinking cur," the words came to Shaevre from behind her. She spun and saw Ny'Zeille struggling to stand from where she'd crawled to get nearer. Shaevre had seen filth and gore in her time, but what she was looking at now was horrific, since it was healing itself before her eyes.

"I will burn the hair and flesh from you, and then I wi-"

The demon shuddered and twitched while Meg shrilly howled out a longer burst. Shaevre groaned, knowing that she couldn't win this and she selected her rockets again. As the second one detonated, she felt a little stinging from shrapnel herself. She was too close. They were barely far enough apart for the rockets to arm themselves in flight. She needed to get more room between them while her rockets lasted. As the demon writhed in the snow, the Xer ran off a little way and turned.

She had twelve rockets left as well as almost eight hundred rounds in Meg's magazine on her back. It would have represented a fair bit of comfort on any other battlefield to Shaevre, but here, it was likely only enough to keep this insane thing off her for only a little while longer. After that, she'd be down to turning into the flinty-furred beast that she was and she'd have to do her best to rip out Ny'Zeille's throat before she was killed herself.

As good as she was, Shaevre knew how this would end. She wasn't Arrax, and Ny'Zeille was a high demon.

Shaevre thought about going back to the dead female and grabbing the pistol in case she needed it for herself.

Ny'Zeille rose once more and held out her hand slowly to cast in Shaevre's direction. The Xer groaned when she saw her next rocket miss and she opened up on the demon in desperation. Ny'Zeille roared out in pain, but a second later, she twitched in a different way and Shaevre let off her trigger.

But the whine still rang in her ears a little quieter, and when Shaevre looked in the direction of the sound, she saw Arrax standing there with a meg on his own shoulder. He was grinning. Shaevre stared at the look of happiness on that male's face.

Shaevre laid the impact dot squarely on the demon's breast and her meg howled once more. Arrax was not as light on the trigger as Shaevre and between them, they caused the insane demon to lose flesh quicker that she could heal herself.

Shaevre sent another rocket to the demon. As it exploded, the demon shrieked and thrashed for a moment and then she was enveloped in lightning from Azrael's hand as he flew past overhead.

Bright green tendrils rose up out of the snow around Ny'Zeille to envelop and entangle her as she struggled. Vadren held out this staff and sent sheets of his own flames to assist. Cha'Khah added to her tendrils with waves of acidic liquid from the surfaces of the tendrils wherever they touched the demon.

Before Shaevre could recover from her shock, Faith landed not far from Ny'Zeille and they stared at each other hatefully for a moment. No one could explain why afterward, but they all stopped when Faith held up her hands as a request. Ny'Zeille began to laugh in a way that brought Shaevre chills.

"The one that needs killing most comes to me willingly," she howled and cackled, "Come closer and let's finish it."

She waited, holding out her hand, keeping the power of her hatred back to hear what final weak wisdom might come from the one who had ruined her life with her appearance and ability to corrupt her son.

"Tell me your final thoughts, you blighted thing," she smiled as she began to heal herself more quickly.

Faith nodded as though she was in a trance and she opened her mouth to speak and her hand reached out toward the demon as though drawn there, but her will flashed from her fingers toward the demon instead of her words.

Ny'Zeille's eyes rolled back in her head while the first of the blue flames licked at her skin, and Faith said her deep and meaningful words in her soft accent.

"Oh, fuck you, you spiteful old bitch."

The flames flickered and snapped from Faith's hand for a moment longer and then it stopped abruptly. Faith looked at her own fingers in shock while what was left of Ny'Zeille groaned in its final agony. Azrael and Dahlgren had landed and Azrael immediately began to continue the destruction until Dahlgren stepped over and with a look of sadness, he drew his sword and swung in one motion.

Before Ny'Zeille's head had stopped rolling, Faith fell forward onto her face.

Dahlgren knelt and rolled her onto her back, his face a mask of shock as he brushed the snow away. "Faith! Faith, what happened? Where are you hurt?"

Faith could only whisper, "I guess it's the thing that she cast on me before. I felt a little different, but I thought that I'd get better, I -- Dahlgren -" Faith's body went rigid for a moment and then she was gone as Dahlgren hung his head.

A pair of tall dark forms walked silently toward the group as everyone but Dahlgren stared and both Arrax and Shaevre dropped to their knees and bowed. Azrael and the Drow stood transfixed as they watched them come.

The pair were dressed in what looked to be some form of short and tightly bound skirts, though the larger of them was plainly a male. Though tall, they were both of a roughly humanoid form, save for their canine-like appendages and heads. The male reached toward Ny'Zeille Runei.

Her head was eight feet from her body, but it screamed piteously for a moment while her burnt body twisted once and then she was still. When the male drew his arm back, he held a vague shadow in his pawed hand. He looked at the others thoughtfully for a moment as though deciding how to say what he wished to say.

"This one does not belong here," he said, holding up the shadow, "but I hold a place for ones such as this. When we are gone with her, none will remember that she was here. In a little time, none will remember her name," he said as he turned, "not even the ones who wait for her return. Not even the son whom she saddened with her hate. Not even the little child who loved her the most. This is the way of things. Everything passes, the pain as well."

Dahlgren looked up as he felt the touch of the tall female on his shoulder. "We have regret," she said, "we were far from here when this began. Even for me, there is a little time needed to travel. It likely means little and is cold comfort, but Faith Runei will hold a high place in my husband's realm."

"There are eyes that her kind has, in the sky above which are used to watch, lord, "Arrax said to the other one, "They will have noticed all of this here today."

The tall one smiled a little and pointed. Arrax looked up and saw the glow of a bright pinpoint of light moving in an arc across the sky. "Those ones fall now," the huge jackal said, "They fail, they all fail. It is not their place to watch. It is ours. Nothing was seen by any watcher, servant. You are all gone from their sight."

Shaevre saw a pair of graceful legs come into view before her. "Rise warrior," the female said softly, "You bear wounds. You have been injured this day. I remove the shards gently over time so that the blood will wash the wounds and there will be no scars for you from this. A kindness for your courage," the gentle face before Shaevre smiled, "there is enough to feel sadness over."

"I -- I never knew, "Shaevre whispered as she stood and stared. The female was like her, though with short and sleek fur, "Forgive me, I did not believe."

"You know now," the tall jackal smiled with a nod, "it is enough."

"You have done well Arrax, last faithful servant," the male said to Arrax, "With some good fortune, you may have found others like yourself in what you wish to do later."

"First, I have a lot of reports to write over this mess," Arrax said, "Six Xer killed and one Merren ambassador dead, though the Merren may be glad to hear that the problem has removed herself. She did exactly as I knew that she would do, though my friend lost his mate."

The quiet one nodded, "Make of this what you will. Hide for a time, and together we will seek to remove what began all of this. You will be needed.

Let this day mark the beginning of our renewed aid to an old world." He looked around at them all, seeing the amazed Drow as well, "There remain things to be done, but there is yet time to speak of this. You have choices to make, Arrax; choices to shape your lifetime and those of a few others near to you. Choose well and wisely. Think of us in your prayers and we will speak again."

The pair nodded and turned to walk off. The group watched as they walked away, fading from their view long before they walked out of sight.

Shaevre walked to Arrax slowly, "Arrax, ... I am sorry if their hunting us causes you trouble."

He looked up and turned to her, "Trouble? Useless gatekeepers hunting an armed Death hound? How else could it have ended? You have removed six loose ends for me," he nodded as he put his arm over her shoulder and grinned, "and I am very happy that you live."

"I am happy that I live," she smiled a little, "and so happy to see you. Thank you."

The others walked to them. "What, ... who were they?" Azrael asked.

"To you, no one," Arrax replied, "to humans far from here long ago, and to us," he said quietly, indicating Shaevre and himself, "Gods. Living gods."

He looked off into the distance, "I now have fewer troubles than I have had in so long, and more new ones than I've ever had in my life. I am so sorry for your loss, Dahlgren. I have no words to speak which will give you any comfort." He stood with Dahlgren, placing himself in the way so that the others couldn't see it as the ranger wept a little before stepping away.

TaLtos6
TaLtos6
1,930 Followers