Eagle X, Mission 21: CTRL

Part 27: Chillard

The bubble shield rippled as bodies clawed and struck in an attempt to break through. The bracer on Nubia's wrist pulsed in time with the ripples, pumping noxious vapors into the air to bolster the barrier. Chillard didn't need to push his mindwork to sense her pain. He could see it in her eyes and the rash spreading along her forearm. Croabarbos technology was dangerous contraband. The risk was starting to outweigh the reward.

Nubia gritted her teeth and kept her arm raised high. Regret and resolve rolled off of her in equal measure. As the pain increased, her surface thoughts focused more and more on her decision to join Spider's motley crew. She'd been a successful pirate before and could be one again, but not if she died atop a random rooftop on an unknown space station. Doubt ate away at her, but she'd always been a woman that made a decision and stuck with it. Spider fought an enemy that would roll over her pirate ships and followers like an icebreaker through frozen space debris. They were evil and Nubia hated evil. She'd decided to stand with his little army against The Pale Garden. She couldn't bring herself to run.

"I, I, I am so scared," Thing 1 said, clutching his companion with his remaining arm.

"I have you, my, my, my love," Thing 2 replied.

The constructs' words startle him out of Nubia's mind.

Their low-faces, once identical 8-bit cartoon cats, had shifted. One wore a top hat and the other an almost too large yellow bow. They looked upon one another with despair. Chillard could not read their digital minds, yet felt a twinge in his heart at the sight of them. He was also afraid, but his own feelings were distant and detached. A gift of his training. Weapons and tactics failed him in the heat of the moment, but the mental conditioning seemed to flood back to him when crisis struck.

Spider and Raven both danced in and out of view. Chillard couldn't see Blockade, but he felt the man's determination to hold the line and that thought was all there was of him. Everyone continued to fight, but there were still too many of them.

Chillard reached out into the minds of the indoctrinated, pushing his mindwork as hard as he dared. There was nothing. A hollow emptiness as if Mastermind-308 had scooped out whatever had once been inside with an ancient melon scooper. Theirs were small voids like a construct or a Core AI. Moving like people but lacking something integral. If there had been something there, anything, Chillard could have lashed out, could have fought. Instead, he clutched his pistol, waiting for the bubble shield to run out of power.

A flying drone crashed into the barrier and it dimpled in for a moment before heavily pulling more vapor from Nubia's bracer. Another such impact would surely deplete the barrier.

Chillard reached out for Patricia and swooned, dropping to a knee. Blood ran down the contour of his beak.

"Get up, Chilly! Now isn't the time for sleep." Nubia strained against the pain in her wrist. The bubble shield was burning her up.

He wiped the blood away, but struggled to regain his feet. A whistling noise assaulted his ears when he finally rose.

The team's shuttle swooped overhead, bombarding the rooftop with high-yield rounds that tore through flesh like paper. Those who weren't killed by the ship's guns were too badly wounded to do more than crawl across the gravel.

Spider: You're supposed to be covering our escape.

Hitman: If everyone is dead, who am I gonna ferry off this nightmare station?

Old Earth EDM music blasted over the battlefield as the ship wheeled back around and barked another salvo of high-yield rounds. Bodies dropped in a neat swath and Spider was hit in the chest. He fell to the gravel hard then rolled to a kneeling position, red and silver spilling from a hole the size of a melon. Holding one hand over the wound, he fired into the indoctrinated with the other.