The Dark Edge Chronicles - Clan War

Chapter 10: Bitter Victory

Careful not to cut any m'tada down even as the stealthed Hand operatives weaved in and out of the staggered rearguard, Lash managed to drop four Hand agents before another m'tada began twisting in pain as she started dusting out from a stab in the side by a car'dieth.

"Damn it," Truk snarled as he and Narcist less successfully tried to pick out their targets, their inexperience with the machine pistols combining with their lower levels of training to put them far behind Lash's ability to unerringly use the Shiva to cut the Hand agents out of the M'tada ranks.

"These lunkhead Blood Guards are just getting in the way!"

"Stop talking and mind your sightlines, Truk," Narcist tightly urged as she finally picked a Hand agent out and sent them spinning to the ground with a carefully-placed shot.

Then Lash was barking out hard commands.

"M'tada, rear ranks diamond shield formation," he snarled and the dozen or so closest to them hustled to form two lines, one down on a knee and the others behind them, weapons drawn and ready.

"Center ranks, split and pincer."

The ten m'tada in between the shield formation and the struggling rearguard quickly split in half, each moving to the side to form tight knots, also with weapons drawn.

"Rear guard, tactical regroup between the pincers, now!

Twisting away from the shadows that were slashing at them with glowing stone knives, the remaining rearguard ran towards the space formed between the pincer knots. As they did, the pincer knots opened fire with their sidearms, filling the uneasy space that tried following the rearguard survivors at best speed, the agents weighed down by their heavy daycloaks.

Then the rearguard were flopping onto their bellies in front of the first line in the shield formation.

"M'tada!" Lash barked. "Empty that space!"

The hail of steel-jacketed ordnance that filled the air between the M'tada and the hard charging Hand was a storm of motion and death that hammered into the remaining stealth agents. In an eyeblink a good dozen were down on the ground, their stealth daycloaks flung away from their perforated bodies by the wave of weapons fire that scythed them down.

"Hold your fire," Lash barked as the last one hit the ground. He slid forward in a tactical crouch, his Shiva ready as he went to check the bodies.

"Reload and keep one in the chamber," he directed. "We're not done here quite yet."

Only when he nudged the last one to fall and got an open eye sightless gaze in response did he begin to turn to the waiting M'tada, intending on telling them to withdraw to cover the exit of their mistress. And staggered a couple of steps when a familiar high velocity round pounded into his armored back.

"White Flames!" Narcist barked, sending a short burst past Lash to elicit a grunt and the sound of a body falling unevenly to the ground behind him.

Lash flung himself into a forward roll to get clear of any White Flames advancing behind the one Narcist just shot. Coming to his feet to find himself looking at suddenly uncertain m'tada in front of him, he grimaced.

"M'tada! Tactical regroup at the plane. Protect your mistress!"

"What about you, my lord?" one of them asked even as the formations began to smoothly break down into a single column tactical retreat. "What about these humans firing on you?"

"You let us take care of them," Lash grimly directed. "Now go! Honor and glory to the M'tada!"

"Honor and glory to the Qos Viran!" the retreating m'tada said with one voice. Then they were sprinting towards the corner and out of sight.