Hunted By the Alien Pirate by Celia Kyle Page 0,22
are taken by surprise, photon blasts hitting them straight in their gravity center. Even though Solair doesn’t do much damage, his hits are enough to throw them off balance.
The group of six men in front of us open fire, hitting the workbench, but I just press ahead and ram them with the bench’s flat surface. Digging my heels onto the floor, I put all my strength behind my shoulders and arms, and then I push myself forward, pinning the mercenaries against the wall.
“Now,” I shout, my face only a few inches away from the asshole with the moustache. His eyes widen as he realizes that both of Solair’s blasters are aimed at their heads, but it’s already too late for him as his friends. A sudden wave of heat crashes against my face as Solair squeezes both triggers at the same time, photon rays zooming past my ears as they cut into the exposed skin between the mercs’ helmets and their breastplates.
The smell of charred meat hits me straight away, the bodies I had pinned against the wall now turning limp. Thinking fast, I take a couple of steps back and throw the bench at the three mercs standing on my right side. It hit two of them, causing them to momentarily lose their aim, and then charge at the remaining one.
“Fuck,” he says, awkwardly trying to level his blaster. Knowing he doesn’t have enough time for an efficient shot, he just fires at random, a photon blast cutting through the strap on my tactical vest. Ignoring the pain that shoots down my arm, I close the distance between the two of us. One of my hands shoots for the man’s neck, and the other takes hold of the blaster’s muzzle.
I yank the gun away from him and then, flipping it around, discharge it against the man’s exposed shoulder joints. He lets out a scream, the face behind his visor contorted with pain, and then slumps down to the floor.
Behind me, Solair has taken cover behind one of the old terminals, sparks jumping out of the burnt circuitry as the three remaining mercs spray everything around them with photon blasts. When they finally realize I’m still standing, I make a quick dive toward Solair, narrowly avoiding being hit by the blasts.
“How are you holding up?” I ask, raising my voice so that Varia and Fiona can hear me. They give me a quick wave from behind an overturned desk, and I breathe out with relief. Even though our plan worked, we took a risk by exposing them…but it was either that or allow the mercenaries to turn us into minced meat.
“Come out with your hands up,” one of the mercenaries shouts, his voice brimming with fear. He has just seen us cut through nine of his teammates like a knife through butter, so I’m not surprised.
“Is that you, Rob?” I ask him. “I recognize your voice.”
“What?” He hesitates. “Yeah, it’s Rob.”
“Yeah, I thought so. Why don’t you lower your blaster, you groping asshole?” I continue. “We dealt with nine of your colleagues in less than twenty seconds, so you better believe we’ll be able to handle the rest of you in less than five.”
“I’m not gonna, huh, repeat myself,” he insists, but he sounds even more hesitant than before. “Come out with your hands up, or else we’ll be forced to—”
“Shut the hell up, Rob,” I cut him short. “Does your pay justify a ticket into the afterlife? Because that’s what you’re about to get. And I can assure you, it’s a one-way ticket.”
There’s a moment of silence, and it doesn’t seem like any of the mercenaries are moving. I hear one of them whispering something, and another replies in a quiet but firm tone. They seem to be debating things. That’s a start.
“Alright, I’m going to lower my gun and—”
The sharp sound of a blaster being fired cuts Rob short, and then I hear a body hitting the floor.
“No one’s lowering their blasters, you two-dick assholes,” one of the mercs says, and this one doesn’t seem to feel hesitant about things. I poke my head up for a fraction of a second, and immediately spot one of the men lying at the feet of the other two, his neck resting at an awkward angle. Whoever’s leading the charge just shot Rob because he was about to surrender.
“You shouldn’t have shot him,” Solair shouts back. “I was starting to like the guy.”
“Yeah? You’ll have a chance to join him in