birds of a feather

chapter 1 - rachel

The first rule we're taught at the Academy is this: violence is very rarely the answer. In most situations, there's a way to negotiate, manipulate or bluff your way out.

Considering the fact that I'm currently in a small alleyway surrounded by half a dozen literal criminals, I decide now is not the time to heed this rule.

The crunch of the Colly's nose under my elbow cues the other criminals to attack. Knives spring out of hiding from sleeves before being thrust in my direction. I feel one grazing over my hair as I duck.

"We've overstayed our welcome," my partner says before dashing out of the alleyway, me tailing closely behind as the criminals pull out their weapons to chase us.

Civilians trail curses behind us as we push through the crowds, looking for our ride away. Each step on the rough and cobbled path brings some level of pain to the bottom of my feet and I deeply regret not wearing my other pair of boots that have very strong soles. What's a planet doing with such a rudimentary road anyway? It's the 32nd century, for goodness sake.

We pass cosy mud apartments and markets selling fruit and artisan goods and I'm struck again by how medieval this entire city is. What is this, the bloody Middle Ages?

"To your right," James warns, snapping me back to the present. I dodge a barrage of flaxium bullets—where did these common criminals get plasma weapons? I file this unsettling thought away for later.

We skid to a halt as we both notice the figures on the roofline. At least a dozen criminals dressed in black are flanking us from above. Their weapons are drawn—crossbows, throwing knives, and even a longsword. Most of them aren't flaxium-charged—wait, I lied. One of them is wielding flaxium twin knives. How did they get those? I make a mental note of the knife-wielding man's appearance: pale skin, black hair, a mask covering his face below the nose, and a prominent slash scar across his cheek. His most striking features, however, are his startling blue eyes. I reach into my pocket, feeling the capsule that will turn into a high-speed hover scooter once activated.

"We're flanked by Collies," I whisper into my comms. "We need backup ASAP. Sending our location." A quiet zap sounds as both James and I pull out our weapons. The blue of the flaxium core in my battle axe hums quietly, waiting for the imminent fight.

A whoosh in the air informs me of an arrow heading James' way. I activate my shield bracer, the temporary flaxium forcefield absorbing the arrow. We immediately leap into a back-to-back position, deflecting arrows and bullets shot at us from our opponents.

One Collie leaps to the ground, the one wielding flaxium-charged twin knives. Behind him, Collies jump down wielding a variety of mismatched--but thankfully ordinary--weapons.

The Collie with the twin knives advances on us, his eyes cold and calculating.

"Cover me!" I shout, lunging forward to meet the knife-wielding Collie. Our weapons clash with a burst of blue light, the sound of flaxium against flaxium echoing through the alley. He moves with lethal precision, but I match him strike for strike, the forcefield bracer on my arm deflecting his attacks.

James keeps the other Collies at bay, his shots precise and deadly. He ducks and rolls, narrowly avoiding a barrage of arrows and throwing knives. "We need to finish this quickly!" he yells over the chaos, reloading his weapon with swift efficiency.

The Collie swings at my head, and I barely manage to block with my axe. He follows up with a quick slash towards my abdomen, but I twist out of the way, countering with a powerful blow that forces him to stumble back. Sensing an opening, I press the attack, driving him towards the wall.

"James, now!" I shout, locking eyes with my partner. He nods, understanding my plan. As I engage the Collie in a feint, James takes aim and fires a concentrated burst of flaxium energy. The shot hits the Collie square in the chest, sending him sprawling to the ground, his knives clattering uselessly beside him. I'd guess that he has a flaxium-proof vest, seeing how he hasn't immediately started convulsing from exposure to the flaxium.