Max cursed as chaos erupted around him. Next to him the orb kept up as he made his way through twisted alleyways as he attempted to get back to the little hovel, he had been working in. Turning the next corner, he leapt backwards in an attempt to avoid the exploding wall. Having to backtrack was not helping his cause.

  “Blast it,” he cursed. He was able to hear fighting up ahead. Micha was going to scold him for not being prepared and caught without his rifle; and she was right.

  “How do I get to the armory?” he muttered.

  The orb surprised him by displaying a map of the compound. It might not be accurate with all the damage that was happening, but it was going to keep him moving in the right direction. He set off at a quick pace.

  After he had been wounded, Desohta had noted improvements to Max’ mobility. He had urged Max to find out what his new limits were while things were quiet. So that when he needed to, he was aware of what he was currently capable of. Now he found himself wishing he had spent less time in front of a compu…no he did not. He was wishing he had eeked out some time to train though, because he was finding it frustrating as he stumbled over detritus in his way like some novice just learning to maneuver a training field.

  Turning a corner, Max froze. half of one building had collapsed and the other was about to join it. There were wounded soldiers and mercenaries. Leaving them to their fate was not going to wash.

  With a sigh, he made his way to the nearest body and checked for signs of life. Finding it, he began hoisting the warrior up by the shoulders and levered him away from the damaged buildings. One by one, he hauled nine warriors out from under the debris and laid them, carefully out of range should the building collapse.

  Out of curiosity, he asked the AI if it was able to scan the debris for any other signs of life. The AI responded by approaching the buildings and scanning. It was gone for maybe a minute when it returned.

  “There is one body that shows signs of life. If you are careful,” the orb cautioned. “You can get through the collapsed building without causing further damage.”

  “Lead the way.”

  Max spent the next several hours rescuing anyone that the AI found. There was no way to distinguish between friend and foe, so he was saving whoever happened to be alive. He did the best he was able for each person regardless of who they were. Micha had stressed it enough times. The wounded were no ones enemy, but when the fighting ended they became potential allies. The last thing he wanted was to save the very people that were there to kill his alpha, but he wanted to be able to look her in the eyes with his head held high.

  At times he spotted other members of his team, the mercenaries or the princes guards. They shared quick details before dashing off to whatever task still needed doing. By the time the fighting was over Ni’yell was tapping him on the shoulder and handing him a water skin and a protein bar.

  “Heard you’ve been hauling people from the rubble.”

  Max squatted next to the body he had been triaging, water skin to his mouth when the AI pipped up. “Three hundred and six bodies were moved to safer location and from under rubble that might have caused death. It is unknown how many have survived at this time.”

  Ni’yell arched a brow. “I see. Well done. That explains the bodies Desohta kept finding. Most of the deaths were the enemies. We did lose thee of the prince’s guards and five of the mercs that we know of so far.” The Shawling nodded. “When you are done, I need you to check on Micha. Her building might be the only one still standing. It was like the building was shielded.”

  “It was,” the orb supplied.

  Again, Ni’yell’s head bobbed. “Good job.”

  Rennick

  Rennick was making his rounds to ensure everyone was rested because it had been a tense wait for the attack they all knew was coming. Calculating who was resting and where, the panther was not paying attention to his location when the first explosion rocked the compound. He was just as unprepared for the explosion behind him.

  Caught by the shockwave of the collapsing building he stumbled and almost landed face first. He barely avoided face planting by going into an awkward forward roll over his right shoulder. Landing, he stayed in a crouched and caught his breath. Pulling his rifle to the front he checked that it was loaded, then scanned his location for targets.

  Taking note of the terrain, Rennick noted he was almost back to where he was supposed to be. Standing, he started forward to join the rest of his team. Before he got around the corner the panther was ambushed.

  One of his ambushers knocked Rennick into the building on his left and tried to use the confusion to disarm him. Failing to get the riffle away from the panther, the attacker attempted to punch him in the face. Instinct kicked in and his riffle fired off; the burst shot left the attacker with a shocked look on his face as he died.

  A heavy blow to his back caused Rennick to stumble forward and as he jerked to a halt his finger tighten on the trigger and the second burst was fired. The shot was wild and no one hit. Rennick’s ambushers all instinctively ducked to avoid getting shot. Rennick took the moment to find his center and without hesitation fired at the nearest attacker; and then there were three.

  One of the three attacker attempted to flee, the second was bold and swung the club at Rennick’s legs in an attempt to knock him over and the third lunged for the rifle and grabbed the barrel. Her cries as her hands sizzled were intense. The panther chose to dodge the swing to his legs as he took aim and shot the fleeing attacker in the leg.

  He had not fully dodged the swing and took a hit from the club to the thigh. With a grunt he struck the burned attacker with the butt of the riffle. She dropped to the ground too stunned to move. The last attacker backed up and shifted his position to strike again.

  Not waiting for the guy with the club to attack, Rennick kicked the stunned attacker in the head. Unable to resist, her head bounced off the building and she slumped to the ground, like a sack of grain, unconscious.

  In a rage, the last attacker screamed as he charged. Rennick fired a single burst and dropped his attacker like a marionette with the strings cut.

  Rounding the corner, he paused to assess the situation. It was clear that his team was overwhelmed. It was also evident that the mercenaries on his team were holding up better then imperial soldiers; which showed whom was more accustomed to the battlefield. Picking the immediate dangers, Rennick fired another single burst at an attacker attempting to stab one of the mercenaries in back.

  Without hesitation the panther located the next threats and shot three attackers in tandem that were kicking a downed imperial soldier. Selecting his next target he hesitated. Having lost count of how many shots he fired, Rennick dropped his rifle and drew two specialty blades. He stepped forward into close combat range. With a right hand strike across the left shoulder blade of the attacker on his immediate right; his follow through allowing him to kick backwards at same target, throwing the attacker off balance.

  Aware of Rennick joining the fray, two attackers lunged at the panther. He chose to block the attacker on his left with his forearm and kicked out at the second incoming attacker’s chest. Without pause, the panther turned to the blocked attacker with a partial spin that left his back exposed Rennick thrust back with his blade and caught the attacker in the stomach.

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  Adrenaline pumping, Rennick turned to the next visible attacker. Moving in he spun the attacker to face him and punched the man in throat and let him drop like a bad habit. All his training in marital combat had him moving from target to target like he was fluid grace incarnate. Ducking and weaving around most the attacks that came his way he allowed his body to move with flexibility. Each attack he was unable to avoid or chose to take he flowed with; keeping his balance and the rhythm of the fight.

  With each attack he allowed his teammates to get back in the fight or to move out the line of fire if their injuries were too severe. Still the battle raged on. Time was kept in seconds and minutes seemed like ages. And still he pushed on. Spinning on his back foot he glided to a halt and took in the scene before him. Two of his teammates were down due to injuries he was able to mostly see. The others were still on their feet, but were not in the best shape. They were not going to be ready if another attack came.

  Rennick had to admit he was not in the greatest shape either. Micha would have said that any day six feet above ground was a good day. He looked up at the sky. There was too much blood in his sight.

  “Secure the survivors,” Rennick closed his eyes. He really hated close range combat.

  Ni’yell

  Ni’yell sat with his arms crossed as the shuttle he was on hurtled through space to reach an abandoned planet where Micha was undergoing the AlphaOne protocol. He had received word that she was in danger and immediately gathered one hundred of the best warriors Kè Lavi had to offer and made all haste to get to her. The pilots had just informed them they were arriving at their destination only to find two medium civilian class merchant vessels in orbit.

  From what the pilot had to say they were still sending people planet side. The request came to fire on the ships and Ni’yell did not hesitate. The command was answered with a volley of mini missiles aimed at their cargo bays and engines. On confirming that nothing further was leaving the ships and that they were not going anywhere, the Shawling ordered his three shuttles to descend into the atmosphere and get him an image off what was going on dirt side.

  They arrived with three deep space shuttles made for long distances and warriors ready to defend their alpha even though some had yet to meet her. One look at the ground and all Ni’yell was able to see was a battlefield in total chaos. In the air there were five shuttles, that were meant to defend against small to medium flying creatures, attempting to take out a shuttle that was clearly designed to handle whatever was thrown at it. Mitah was flitting about like a small bird teasing a predator, but the ship’s size made fighting in close quarters difficult.

  Ni’yell’s best guess was it was how Mitah was keeping the other ships from firing.

  Looking past the arial dogfight, the Shawling discovered that the compound was completely overrun. Purity had forgone any finesse and went straight to overwhelming brute force. Explosions were happening throughout the compound. There was smoke in the air from the destruction of many of the buildings as well as from some of the fires he was able to see burning.

  There was so much movement on the battlefield that it was difficult to discern who fought for which side. It was as though someone had angered an ant hill and it had chosen to swarm in response.

  Ni’yell ordered one of the thee shuttles to assist Mitah in grounding the five shuttles and for his shuttle to get low to the compound momentarily to allow him to shadow walk than they were to land and join the battle.

  “If you are unsure of who to assist,” Ni’yell grined impishly. “Shout ‘for the glory of out Alpha.’ See how your call is met.”

  As the shuttle began its descent, Ni’yell equipped his armor, collected his riffle and knives then made his way to the shuttle hatch. He opened the door and shadow walked into the compound; intent on reaching Micha.

  As the being he was, Ni’yell made use of the skills Micha had had him drill until they were second nature. It allowed him to be selective about the battles he fought. As Micha’s second in command he was not supposed to get bogged down in individual battles, but flicker across the playing field in order to assess and assist where it was needed most. So, he slipped in and out of the shadows as he made his way to ensure his alpha was secure.

  Coming out of a shadow he spotted Ipino in the middle of a dog pile. The shifter was barely keeping to his feet. He was going to have to increase his strength training, Ni’yell thought as he moved to intercede. A couple of bursts into the throng hanging on the wolf was enough to shift the tide and allow the shifter to do a partial shift. Bigger and more powerful than the crowd around him, Ipino dominated the fight once more.

  Slipping back into the shadows, the Shawling looked up and spotted a rooftop shooter aiming at a group of imperial soldiers with a grenade launcher. Ni’yell stepped through the shadows like he was climbing stairs and intercepted the shooter before the grenade was launched. The terror on the shooter’s face was familiar and so last weeks news. He punched the fool in the chest and nearly launched him off the roof. With a sigh he dragger his victim through the shadows and dumped him and the grenade launcher in front of the soldiers.

  Driven to reach his alpha, he gave a nod and turned back into the shadows. His pace steady and winding, he took selective shots where he was certain they were having the best effect. At one point he launched out of the shadows like his ass was on fire right at a mercenary. They hit the ground and rolled, a tangle of limbs, as the wall crumbled where the mercenary had been standing. Ending on his back, Ni’yell stared at the sky as he felt for Micha.

  She was safe and unaware.

  Back in the shadows, the Shawling stayed still and looked around the compound. At the generators there was a giant fighting a group of mercenaries. The more he looked the more he knew something was wrong with the bruiser. It was as though something had consumed all common sense. The giant fought with all the skill of a toddler angry at losing a toy. Even the eyes seemed dull, dead almost.

  But there was no mistaking the damage the brute was doing. As he calculated the best way to assist, the prince joined the fight. He had to do something and do it quickly, but what choices were available. He was possibly strong enough to fight it, but that was not a guarantee. Bullets only seemed to anger it. That left making use of the wraith like creature that lived in the space between shadows.

  It was not an ability so much as a side effect of an ability and it was one that Micha made it clear he was to use cautiously and in extreme situations only. The reason was the energy fed on did not replenish when away from the entities. Seeing the prince take a foot to the chest and be launched like a cannon ball, he reacted; coming out of the shadow in time to catch the prince.

  Enough damage had been done and he somehow doubted there was anything to salvage in the behemoth’s mind. Whatever had been done was beyond awful. Lifting his rifle, he moved away from the prince and anyone else and fired at the bruiser. It only took two shots to get the giants attention.

  Ni’yell slammed his fist together as the bruiser came at him; fist swinging. The advantage to being smaller in that instance was that speed was not in the behemoths favor. The two exchanged strikes. Slugging it out like animals with everything on the line. Time and again Ni’yell just barely managed to block a fist or a kick from sending him flying. Worse, the longer they fought the more certain he was that something had been done to the once valiant life. Whatever it was had made it hard to wear the brute down.

  Ni’yell began maneuvering the poor sod into the shadows. Once he was certain they were deep enough, he started to shadow walk; dragging the one he fought in far enough to draw the shadow creatures. The loss of energy was not without pain, which meant Ni’yell needed to hold the dying warrior long enough to weaken him.

  When the struggle ceased, Ni’yell kicked the brute in the chest and out of the shadows. A pale image of what had once been lay struggling to breath. Unable to ignore the suffering any longer, her drew his blade and buried it in the dying warrior’s heart. Certain he was dead, Ni’yell ordered the knife to be left where it was.

  The blade was De’e Sha’an. It was beyond disgraced, beyond dishonored.

  Around him was silence. Not even the purity fighters were moving. Ni’yell closed his eyes and prayed for the soul of the one who lay at his feet. Opening his eyes he investigated his shadow for the only healer he knew was on the battlefield. He found Desohta tending to wounded on the opposite side of compound. Without a word to anyone, he carefully sank the prince into the shadow and envision exiting next to Desohta. The healer did not so much as flinch. He turned to the gasping prince with the same dedication he showed everyone.

  “He was kicked in the chest by a foot as big as my chest. Something had been done to increase the strength of the warrior. I barely caught him before he collided with the wall and was pushed back by the impact,” Ni’yell reported.

  “His ribs are likely broken and from the sound of his breathing he might have a punctured or collapsed lung,” Desohta reaching into his medical bag and withdrew a syringe with a silver liquid in it; attaching it to a hand held device. He input orders than injected the syringe. Immediately the prince’s breathing improved.

  “I am worried about how pale he is. There,” Desohta checked the prince’s pulse. ‘Is a chance that there is internal bleeding or damage to his heart.”

  “Use a second syringe of nanites. We need to do the best we can.”

  Desohta did not argue. Second shot administered and some colour returned to the pale prince.

  Looking up to the sky, Ni’yell watched as the last enemy shuttle spiraled to ground. He took a moment to breath deep. For that instant his mind was clear. Then he was back in time and he began to notice a decrease in the decibel level on the battlefront. It sounded as though the fighting might be reaching its conclusion.

  And still Micha slept on unaware of the bloodshed around her.