The Kineticist

Grunts of pain and surprise were the only sound the two men made before they crashed into the titanium walls, leaving small indentations in the metal. Kyle staggered forward down the hall, stopping every twenty feet so he could catch his breath and ease the burning in his legs.

The thundering footfalls heralded the arrival of five more men, each wearing grey strike suits and armed to the teeth, they saw him and raised their weapons. Kyle couldn't make out what they were saying, the blaring siren drowning them out. He pushed himself off the wall and stumbled forward, raising his hands out in front of him.

A wall of force roared out in front of Kyle, striking the squad of men. They were blown backwards twenty feet and sprawled in a heap on the ground. The clicking of coms was the only other audible thing he could make out over the screaming siren, so he pressed forwards. He considered picking up one of their assault rifles, but he decided against it as he hadn't fired a weapon in years.

Twenty minutes passed agonizingly slowly as Kyle stumbled along yet another corridor, using the wall to support himself. His body ached and his brain felt like pulsating jelly in his head. More footfalls and another team rushed down the corridor to his left, and he groaned in frustration. Why wouldn't they leave him alone!

More incoherent yelling did little more than hurt his head even more, he lashed out his hand in anger. Another invisible wave of forced crashed into the squad, catapulting them backwards. Running footsteps behind him made him whirl around.

Through his hazy vision he could make out another person. Shorter than the others, wearing the same body suit but with an outlandishly ostentatious coat that fell to just below her knees. She had two long barreled revolvers pointing at him, her voice was high and sharp, like a whip crack through the riotous sounds around them. He blinked and focused on her face, the movement of her mouth, his brain desperately trying to put two and two together.

"Get on the ground and I won't shoot you!" To woman demanded. Her angular face was hardened into a mask of irritation. Stormy eyes glared at him dangerously, their icy gray color seemed to bore into his.

Kyle's lip curled in a snarl, "Where are Grant and Hiemsal? I have no business with you!"

"This ship is now under my control. You assaulted by teams, so get on the ground now!" She bellowed.

Kyle flicked his hand once more, blasting the woman backwards. She cartwheeled through the air but at the last moment twisted and landed with a feline's grace as she skidded backwards. Her straw colored hair was ruffled and the look of shock on her face was almost enough to make Kyle chuckle, but that humor vanished when a flash of gunmetal and a thunderous crack from her twin revolvers forced him to shield himself.

The translucent barrier almost didn't make it in time. Two bullets stopped a hairs breath away from his head, spinning furiously in the air. The force of the projectiles was still propelling them forward, pushing against his barrier with steely determination, before finally the momentum finally died out and they fell to the floor, steaming slightly in the air.

He looked at the woman once more, those grey eyes narrowed in wary determination. She rose to her feet and stalked towards him. Her rolling gait had an almost hypnotizing effect as her hips swayed one way, then the next, but her body seemed to glide forward without a hint of movement. It was disconcerting to say the least.

As the woman advanced, Kyle retreated, keeping his distance. As she pressed on, he pushed another wave of force her way. It rushed forwards and then crashed into something. He could feel his will clashing with something tangible. His eyes fell to her outstretched hand, and he could feel the pressure of her own will pushing against him.

"You're a Kineticist?!" Kyle voiced cracked slightly in shock.

"Why are you attacking my men, we aren't Imperials," The woman grunted. The strain on her face obvious as she battered against his will. "We let you out!"

Kyle blinked, "Those explosions where from you?"

"Yes. The Imperials crossed into Coalition space, we decided to commandeer their vessel as recompense," The woman was perspiring heavily now, her voice strained with the effort of holding him back.

Kyle made a quick decision and let his wall of force dissipate. The woman visible staggered at the sudden change. "Your men are back there. Don't get in my way."

He didn't spare her a second glance as he limped past her, a small portion of his mind ready to respond the instant any threat was detected, but none came. After the adrenaline faded from his system, his vision began to cloud once more. His body protested with ever step, with every movement that he made, but he couldn't stop now. Not with Grant and Hiemsal so close.

After what seemed like an eternity Kyle finally made it to the hanger bay. The roaring of engines greeted his ears as the massive door hissed open. The bay doors had fully lifted as the shuttles began to make their escape. The first was just about to clear the doors, its engines flaring as the throttle was cracked to maximum.

Kyle thrust his hand forward, clawing at the ship in a savage motion. With a shrieking cry, the engines were ripped clear and the craft's lights flickered and died, thrown clear of the hanger out into open space. As the next two tried to dash to freedom, to succeed where their companions had not, Kyle thrust his mind towards the massive gates. He flexed his mind to its limit and heaved downwards. The hydraulic mechanism protested valiantly, but ultimately failing as the metal warped against the sheer amount of pressure that assailed it.

The hanger doors slammed shut just as the two shuttles accelerated, the resulting collision triggered minor explosions as the crafts turned into crumpled scraps of flaming metal as they tumbled to the ground. The remaining shuttles threw open their doors and a hail of lead rocketed towards him.

. Kyle was on his last legs as his barrier halted the shower of bullets, but his energy levels were hitting the reds. He swayed on his feet as he drew upon the last dregs of strength he had left and sent an express delivery of deadly cargo straight back to senders. He smiled to himself as he heard the elicit sounds of revenge caress his ears before he fell backwards, darkness rushing in to embrace him.

Kara felt drained. Her heart hammered away in her chest as her body shook slightly. The sheer force wielded by that man had been like an earthquake rocking her to her core. In all of her travels through Coalition space, never had anyone come close to that walking skeleton of a man. Those hauntingly sunken golden eyes had sent chills down her spine, he was covered in blood which she had assumed was from one of her strike teams, but after having rushed to their last known positions, She had found them alive.

Hunter and Buck were slumped on the ground, a quick scan of their vitals showed nothing life threatening, just a pair of mild concussions and broken ribs. Their squads had similar injuries, and after her confrontation with the golden eyed man she could only thank her lucky stars they hadn't been turned to a blood smears upon the walls.

Kara tapped her wrist com, "Mercy, we need medical Evac."

"What? What happened?" Mercy's worried tone crackled out of her watch.

"It's a long story. Tell Ralph and Frannick that I need them suited up and over here pronto. Bring The Cerberus alongside the port hanger," Kara ended the call abruptly before switching frequencies. "Celtic, get your ass down to the starboard hanger, if you find a pale man with yellow eyes, do not engage. Hunter and Buck are injured and their teams are out cold."

"You hurt Cap'n?" Celtic's inquired, his rumbling bass voice causing the minute speakers to vibrate slightly.

"I'll survive," She shook her head. Hell, she was lucky she was even standing.

Kara activated the medical beacons on both Hunter and Buck's wrist coms, before she darted towards the starboard hanger. It wasn't long before a set of explosions rippled through the ship, and she broke out into a sprint. Dessorosa was going to be pissed if any more damage were inflicted on the already battered vessel.

The sounds of battle drew closer, and the heavy foot falls of booted feet marked the arrival of Celtic and his team. The massively muscled, dark skinned commando toted his 40mm grenade launcher in one hand, and his assault rifle in the other. She raised an eyebrow at the firepower.

"What? I figured it was better to be safe than sorry," Celtic shot her a grim smile. Kara wasn't sure who was supposed to feel safe with a grenade launcher in enclosed quarters.

The group rounded the last bend before they froze in their tracks. The pale, skeleton of a man was hunkered down in the door way, his hands covered in a shimmering haze. Two burning piles of wreckage lay shattered on the floor. The remaining shuttles swung open their doors and rained lead down upon the man. Kara started forward, a warning cry leaving her mouth before it died on her lips.

The hail of bullets all stopped short of their targets as they struck an invisible barrier, ripples of refracted light the only sign of the formidable defense. The man staggered back a step, before shoving his hands forward. The deadly storm of ammunition roared back towards the assailants, ripping through armor and flesh like paper. Stray rounds ricocheted around the interior of the shuttles; a splash of blood coated the inside of one of the cockpit as it listed drunkenly into one of its companions.

The scene of carnage ended abruptly as the shuttles fell from the air. Blood, oil, and bodies spilling out into a sickening mess on the hanger floor. Kara ripped her eyes away from the scene as the golden eyed man collapsed. She raced forwards and barely managed to catch him before he hit the ground.

His skin was a sickly pallor, his eyes sunken above his hallow cheeks. A strange sense of sympathy blossomed in her chest at the state of this poor man. He had almost killed her, yes, but he didn't when he realized she wasn't his enemy. The sense of fear the still scraped its icy fingers down her spine warred with that sense of compassion, and ultimately she forced that feeling down. An enemy of the Imperium was a friend in her book.

A sticky warmth oozed down over her strike suit. Startled, she realized that there was a gaping hole to the left of his heart, "Celtic, help me with him. He's been shot," Kara barked at the dark giant.

"What in God's expansive universe is he?" Celtic stared at him with open awe on his face.

"Should I shoot you too, maybe then you remember how painful it is to get shot in the chest?" Kara snapped, "Get your ass into gear and move him to our ship, fucking Christ man!"

He had the decency to look chagrined at her chastisement before scooping the bleeding man into his arms and sprinted off towards The Cerberus. Kara contacted Mercy once more before she moved with the rest of Celtic's team to the bridge of the Imperial warship. "Mercy, we have a critically wounded man incoming. Have the med bay prepped for immediate triage."

She didn't wait for a reply as they rapidly climbed through the ship. Kara fired up the diagnostic protocol on the command deck. She tapped her foot impatiently as the program went to work before a flashing red alter dominated the screen. Critical power structure throughout the ship, and it was nothing short of a miracle that emergency power was still operational.

Kara sighed and sat back in the captain's chair. She rubbed her temple as the telltale signed of a migraine slowly ached its way into her head. This whole mission had been one hell of a shit storm. What the hell was she going to tell Dessorosa?