over there.” Fethne poined, shading her eyes against the dust on the dry wind.
“Better prospect than this.” Chadwell kicked the side of the burnt-out car.
“Get down!” Geddes' urgent hiss sent everyone instinctively flat to the ground. Without even chancing a look back at whatever he had seen, they scrambled into cover beside the road. Only then did Fethne hiss, “What? What did you see?”
“Bike patrol.”
Kali lifted her head and saw a plume of dust rising from the wastelands. Soon, the black specks of Psarrion hov-bikes appeared, riding in a V-formation. Geddes hissed at her to get down again, but she resisted even his tug at her shoulder, and kept watching. Her friends were verging on panic by the time she ducked back down.
“It's alright,” she said. “They didn't see us. They're heading almost parallel, towards the ruins over there.”
“Then we should head somewhere else,” Ferneval hissed.
“Why?” Kali demanded. “I only saw seven of them, we have guns...”
“Yeah, against armoured aliens,” Chadwell scoffed, “pull the other one, Kali!”
“I'm serious!”
“I know you are, that's why I'm laughing.”
“We're almost out of food and it'll be dark soon, those ruins are our only option.”
“There's probably no food there!” Ferne protested.
“Do you see anywhere else to at least hole up for the night?”
“Kali,” Chadwell said, with forced patience. “The Psarrion are there.”
“Kali's got a point,” Geddes put in.
“Kali's mental!”
Geddes shot Chadwell a burning look, but before he could take up the point, Ferneval said, “Let's wait a bit. The Psarrion won't bother looting. Let's wait, they might just ride on.”
Kali snorted. Geddes put his hand on her arm.
“Kali, you're both right; we do need to get to those ruins, but we can't go up against a Psarrion patrol. You can't think we'd all survive.”
Kali scowled and looked away. Geddes leant closer to her.
“C'mon. I know you hate 'em. We all do. But we need shelter and supplies; that's the mission.”
Kali sat heavily down in the gully where they hid, and folded her arms.
“Typical,” Chadwell muttered. “Now she's sulking.”
“Shut up,” Geddes told him. “I know who I'd rather have at my back in a fight, and it ain't you.”
As the shadows lengthened and the ill sky darkened to the hue of a bruise, a bright flash lit up the horizon. Kali immediately looked up, watching the flares of Psarrion weapons lighting up the ruins. She ignored the hisses of her friends to get down, kept watching until Geddes finally stuck his head up too. He swore softly.
“What?” Ferneval hissed. “What is it?”
“They're fighting someone,” Geddes replied.
Kali had not taken her eyes off the scene, muzzle-flashes flinging the ruins into long shadows and black silhouettes. By the electric flicker of Psarrion weapons, Kali saw the troopers closing in. They disappeared from sight amid the ruins, but within a few seconds fell back, firing as they retreated.
“They're still fighting,” Kali reported. “We should go.”
“Too right,” Chadwell agreed, “let's get out of here...”
“No. Down there.”
“What? Are you mad? Don't answer that, I already know you're nuts, but seriously: what?!”
“Whoever they're fighting is holding them off. Listen.” Kali cocked her scarred ear theatrically. “Hear that? They're still fighting. It's been how long now? Three minutes? Five? Whoever's down there is making a hell of a fight.”
“Then we should leave them to it! If they kill a couple of Psarrion then good, but I'm not risking my neck for...”
“Enough.” Kali's voice turned suddenly deep.
“Aw no, here we go...”
Geddes and Kersey had already unslung their weapons, knowing what was to come. Kali stood up, ditched her pack and shucked her longcoat. They had all seen before the look in her eyes before. What none of them knew was what she felt when the spirit of the Old Daishen spoke to her. The spirit was ancient, dark but righteous, utterly implacable once it had decided what she must do. When it made its will known, it leant to her an immovable certainty that she could do what it commanded.
With Geddes and Kersey behind her, she quit the cover of the rocks and marched towards the ruins. The fighting was still going on, the Psarrion troopers closing in for a second attempt. There were only five of them now; as she drew nearer, Kali saw two troopers stretched on the ground.
The only gunfire came from the Psarrion weapons. Kali broke into a jog, eerily certain of what she would find when she entered the ruins. In the centre of the rubble, the building's original purpose impossible to judge now, stood a woman in full armour. The Psarrion were closing on her from all sides, firing as they came. But every fizzing blue blast directed at her became a green flare three feet from her, dissipating before it struck. In her hands, she woman held a long sword, darkly stained with the blood of the two Psarrion already dead upon the field.
Kali broke into a run. Her rifle forgotten, she drew her sword. Behind her, Geddes swore and raised his rifle. His first shot rang off Psarrion armour; the trooper turned and returned fire. Geddes flung himself flat, the blue flash of Psarrion gunfire sizzling over his head.
Kali roared and charged even as the Psarrion trooper turned his gun upon her. Her sword swept up two-handed and cleft the trooper's weapon in half. He attacked at once, swinging both fists in a dual hammer-blow. Kali was coming too fast to duck; the double punch smote her armoured shoulder and she cannoned into the trooper bodily. They went down in a crash of armour, rolling over, tussling until Kali brought the hilt of her sword down on the trooper's visored face.
Rolling off him, Kali lurched to her feet and brought her sword down on the trooper's neck as he rose. Psarrion armour defied bullets, only the most precise shot could find a chink in their carapace, but the sword bit and sheared through, almost taking off the trooper's head. He collapsed with a cry underscored by the snarl of a synthesizer.
Geddes and Kersey were still giving covering fire from the edge of the ruins, but their shots merely glanced off the armour of the four remaining Psarrion. Then another buzzing gasp of pain, and Kali looked back to see a frouth trooper collapsing on the sword of the armoured woman. Before she could free her blade from the dying trooper's gut, his comrades closed in on her. One grabbed her from behind and another barged into her. The third brought his rifle up to club her with the stock. Kali flung herself into the fight, hewing through the trooper's arm before his blow could fall. The armoured woman shoved one of her attackers back and wrenched her sword free.
Then she and Kali was back to to back, the troopers closing in. Kali parried a rifle swung at her head, found herself wrestling with the trooper. He was a foot taller than she, his strength assisted by cybernetic implants and the servos of his armour, but within her rose again the dark certainty of the Old Daishen. Her muscles screamed with the effort and sweat broke out on her brow, but she held him in the clinch, glaring into the eyeless visor of his helmet.
Behind her, she heard grunts of effort, blows exchanged, and then the impact of steel biting through an armoured limb. A second blow followed, and then the sword of her as yet nameless comrade lunged suddenly into view, skewering the last Psarrion trooper through his visor. He stood rigid until the sword was withdrawn, then collapsed and lay still.
Kali leant on her sword and tried to wipe the sweat from her eyes with one gauntleted hand. When she could see again, she realised the armoured woman was staring at her. The woman was tall, roughly in her mid-twenties, with long black hair and intense blue eyes. Her armour was of the same design as Kali's, but silver rather than red, and the battered shine was fresher.
There was a long silence while they looked at each other, then the women fell on one knee and offered Kali the hilt of her sword. Kali s
tared from the sword to the woman's eyes, staring up into hers with an unreadable passion. Then Geddes and Kersey arrived on the scene.
“Holy shit,” Kersey said, seeing the woman in antique mail and girt with sword. “Another one.”
Kali shook herself and offered the woman her hand, helped her to her feet.
“What's your name?”
“Luned,” the woman replied.
“I'm...”
“You are the Daishen.” Luned was still staring at her. “Who else?”
“Kali.”
“Kali Daishen.”
“...Yes.”
Geddes slapped them both brusquely on the shoulder. “Come on, talk later, let's get set up.”
Kersey went back to fetch the rest of their friends while Geddes began scouting the ruins for the most sheltered spot to camp. Kali stood at a loss, watching as Luned dragged the bodies of the seven Psarrion into a pile. One of them had lost his leg at the hip, another was almost decapitated. Luned finished the job by levering her sword through what remained of his neck. Then she dragged one of the bodies out of the pile and beheaded that too, then another. Kali watched in fascination as Luned methodically beheaded all seven troopers, leaving their bodies neatly piled.
She was just finishing when the rest of the group appeared. They stared in a mix of confused horror from the armoured woman to the butchered bodies.
“I told you,” Kersey said. “Another one.”
“So?” Fethne grunted. “It's Knight Syndrome.”
“Do what?” Kersey boggled, but Chadwell covered his eyes.
“Aw, not now,