A Whisper of War (ON HOLD)

Moonsteel Has Left the Building

     Like many species with an understanding of temporal causality and probability, the T’nith ability to ‘see’ into the future wasn’t so much given to projecting visions, as they knew the future was always in flux.  No, it was more like empathy, where the pre-cog sensed intent and reaction, both strong enough to stir the flow of time into a state of unrest to where it could be felt.  Koden had described it in the past using the example of feeling a sapient’s intention to murder instead of witnessing the actual event beforehand, and understanding how those around it would react.

     And so he didn’t ‘see’ what was about to happen, but the big T’nith certainly felt the storm of intent boiling down the hallway towards them.  And it felt like, . . . death.

     Seeing her muscular boss abruptly tense, Vrin frowned.  Was he reacting to Nah’ss’ flat admission to using the Lantakans as mercenary operatives?  Or was it his pre-cog ability that was suddenly coming to life?  If she was to judge by the expression on his face, she would guess the latter, which, in turn, made her abruptly uneasy.  Just what the hell was he seeing?

     On the opposite side of the table, Sin too caught Koden’s abrupt change in mental state, her telepathy feeling the surge of energy that accompanied the T’nith’s pre-cog ability coming online.  A quick, pre-authorized scan of his cortex was all she needed to start coiling her own considerable abilities into readiness.

     With a soft hiss, the door to the conference room slid open and everybody’s head came up in curiosity.

  “I believe I left word I wasn’t to be disturbed, soldier.”  Nah’ss began tautly, his voice carrying both annoyance and frustration as four or five figures stepped into the medium sized chamber, their presence instantly making it feel cramped.

     As one the soldiers, wearing standard issue Au’six military armor, faced the Grand Protector.  Then they were drawing their side arms, heavy weapons that bore little or no resemblance to the functional guns Au’six soldiers regularly wore at their waist.

  “What is this?”  Nah’ss barked, annoyance morphing straight to outrage.  “Bek’eta’ess!  Holster your weapons at once!  These individuals are guests, . . .”

     The first shot, a seething blast of particle-enriched plasma kept coherent by a focused magnetic field, took Nah’ss in the chest, discharging with a shriek of seared air and instantly burning straight through his body.  The impact flung him back and against the wall where, with a disbelieving look on his face, he died as he slowly slid down the wall.

  “It’s an ambush.”  Sin grated and, abruptly a whirling dervish of ceramic blades, she spun into the nearest soldier, her high-G strength smashing him back.  Then the space was filled with shrieking death as the newcomers opened up on the surviving occupants with a vengeance.

     Ducking a blast meant to remove his head, Koden managed to grab his attacker’s arm, pulling on it hard enough to alter the next shot.  So instead of it coming closer to ending his life, it darted through the actinic-smelling air to slam into the side of the attacker’s comrade.

     A hard punch into the attacker’s elbow joint, felt despite the armor’s protection, was enough to force it to drop its weapon into the T’nith’s waiting hand.  A quick spin for fit then it was Koden that was loosing the weapon’s potent ordnance into the tightly packed cluster of intruding soldiery.  Powerful enough to breach the ceramo-steel that provided the bulk of the armor’s protection with its absorptive and ablative properties, the weapon quickly cut two of the attackers down before Koden took out the gun’s former owner with a twist and fire.

     With a flash of her ceramic blades, hard and sharp enough to punch through ceramo-steel yet undetectable by standard metal scans, Sin dropped a second soldier.  Counting the three Koden had finished off, that left just one.