Goddess

Chapter 2

When the charges blew, Shrike was the first one through the door.

A couple of the others had gotten bitchy about that, especially the Craeken, but Shrike had calmly, rationally explained that his kinetic shields could deflect the initial damage long enough to clear a foothold. Then, he had calmly, rationally explained that if they didn't like him going first, they could take a long walk out an airlock, because he didn't give a testicle-sized fuck what a bunch of amateurs thought about an entry breach.

So, as the airlock door flash-fried into sparkly metal fragments, Shrike leapt through the hole, roaring at the top of his lungs, shotgun in hand and kinetic shields deflecting particle projectiles with brief ripples of energy. Sometimes, in the midst of episodes such as this, he wondered if he wanted to die. This often lasted for all of a millisecond. Then, he would remember the lethal particle shreds filling the air around him, ditch philosophy, shrug to himself, and shoot the first person he encountered with solemn pomp and great glee.

The current situation proved no different, and Shrike's boots hadn't yet touched the floor when he fired a 500-shred particle slug that ripped through the shields of the first of many unfortunates, shredding the armor underneath and reducing the torso into a pulpy, lacerated mess. The kick of the shotgun threw his shoulder back, midair as he was, but he used the force of the recoil to roll sideways and back as he hit the floor, coming up on his feet somewhat out of the line of fire and allowing the others to leap through from behind him.

Why that idiot Korvak felt he needed to be second through a fire-choked breach the star-lag only knew, but he went down immediately with innumerable particle shreds through his face and chest. The dumbass had said that his shields were faulty not five minutes ago.

The Korvak's death might have plugged the entry point had the Craeken not been next. The massive, chitin-plated alien barreled through the breach, using what was left of the Korvak as a screen to save power in his shields. The airlock entryway began to empty of enemies as its defenders scrambled to get clear of the rampaging Craeken. Shrike grunted appreciatively at the distraction, following the path of destruction and picking off the defenders who broke from cover to get out of the way.

Of course, plowing balls-to-the-walls through a combat zone, even if you're an eight hundred pound Craeken, is a bad idea against a prepared enemy. It wasn't long before the hulking beast was bleeding out on the floor, shields overloaded, with multiple projectile wounds to the neck, body, and face. By that time, Shrike had pushed well into the frigate's aft hallway, providing ample footing for the rest of the boarding party to pour aboard.

Mercenary companies branched off down the three passages in which they had a foothold, one leading to the engine core, one toward the crew and cargo deck, and the last toward the bridge. Naturally, Shrike wasn't about to miss out on a bridge party, and he accompanied a group of Nova Rayn regulars with Brash toward the BCN, Bridge Command and Navigation.

Working for the Novas wasn't too bad. Shrike squeezed off several rounds of cover fire so his current Nova companions could move forward. For a mercenary, protection, drug-running, and extortion agency, the Nova Rayn was pretty reliable, providing prompt and plentiful credits. They normally kept paid up with authorities too, though he heard they'd gotten crossways with Vasir and the other bosses on Beta lately. Novas weren't uptight, like a bunch of organized merc groups were nowadays; Shrike even liked one or two. Brash seemed solid enough, for an Alishkar. The overabundance of eyes Alishkar possessed had always creeped him out a bit, but he wasn't one to judge on biological configuration. In fact, he'd worked with a Kreever a few years back with eyes all over – one of the nicest guys he ever knew.