The Iriduan’s Mate by Susan Trombley
Thirty-Three
Shulgi strode through the burning streets of the dreg, immune to the chaos that roiled around him. Namerian wasn’t the only one capable of raising an army. Shulgi had kept in contact with some of his old allies and had re-established contact with those who had turned against the Iriduan empire. Many of them had retreated to the CivilRim to avoid imperial enforcers and bounty hunters. Some had come to Za’Kluth lately, settling in.
Waiting for a moment like this.
Urbarra’s pack wasn’t large. No more than a dozen of his rebels lived in Za’Kluth’s dreg—a minor cell mostly cut off from the primary rebel forces. Cells like his were chaos cells, their mission mostly focused on creating mayhem in key locations to draw attention from local forces and distract from the primary rebel strike teams.
Urbarra’s pack was skilled and experienced at what they did, and they knew exactly where and how to strike tinder to kindling to set an entire city on fire. It didn’t take long for riots to start, and those riots continued to rage without any additional fuel from Urbarra’s team. A few rumors here, a few explosions in the odd warehouse there, a gang boss assassinated, and the next thing the residents of the dreg knew, the entire place turned into a war zone.
Shulgi used the chaos as a shield, making his way through the dreg from the cargo elevator, where he’d left two dead guards after they refused to take him to the dreg while it was locked down. The journey to the factory district left more bodies in his wake, his patience thin, his blood pumping with combat stimulants. Anyone who attacked him signed their own death scroll.
Ma’Nah’s new mercenary army found themselves hard-pressed in the dreg, since so many of them were down in the under-tier using their martial presence to maintain order among the more rebellious of Sha Zaska’s minions. The swell of the rioting mob had reached the factory sector, trampled the security team blocking that sector off to unauthorized citizens, and now poured through the deactivated gates.
Multiple factory forces amassed to beat back the mob, but Urbarra’s pack moved among the crowd, slipping past the most distracted guards to set up explosive devices behind their lines. Shulgi shifted into place in the crowd, elbowing aside some of the more foolish and excitable rioters who dared to see him as a potential target. He was trying not to kill civilians, but they were making it difficult for him. He felt relief when the explosions rocked the factory district, some of them sending heavily armored security guards flying.
With Iriduan armor, those guards would be shaken but not killed, but the explosions caused the security forces to retreat to their own factories, concerned that the saboteurs had already made it into the sector and were using the mob as a distraction.
A valid concern.
Shulgi followed the crowd of Ma’Nah’s security forces, sensing several members of Urbarra’s pack slipping through the shadows around him. They carried more explosives with them, but Shulgi himself had the one that would do the most damage and level the building. He bore the device on his back, and it was a heavy weight upon his shoulders. One he would live with for what remained of his life—if he didn’t die during this battle.
He met his first true resistance at Ma’Nah’s gatehouse as a sniper on the parapet fired a warning shot, causing Shulgi to seek cover behind the wall. The gate itself stood frustratingly close, but Urbarra’s distraction hadn’t fully reached Ma’Nah yet.
Urbarra’s people made it to the wall not long after Shulgi, the rippling of their stealth armor barely visible even to one who knew they were there and knew what to look for. He watched one of them scale the wall, heading towards the generator that powered the gate. It was his turn to distract the sniper and gate guards.
He peeked around his cover, spotted the sniper with his eye to his scope, and then ducked back behind the wall just before a round struck the edge of it. Stone chips rattled against his armor. He poked his rifle around the wall, firing a burst of rounds blindly, listening for the shouts of the other gate guards. Their booted feet sounded loud above him as they moved into position to fire down on his head. He shifted the rifle to point it upwards.
A burst of rounds took out one of the gate guards, who fell off the wall with nary a scream, striking the ground nearby with a thud. A cacophony of noise broke out in the courtyard of the factory as reinforcements arrived while Shulgi fired again at another guard trying to get a bead on him from their position on the wall.
The sniper kept him pinned, firing off a deadly shot every time any part of his body poked out of cover. Fortunately, he hadn’t been struck yet, but if Urbarra’s infiltrators didn’t accomplish their job soon, he would soon be overrun by reinforcements.
Their voices shouted as they ran along the parapet to where Shulgi had dispatched the first two gate guards. Then their shouts turned to screams as a minor explosion swelled into a conflagration when the generator’s energy core ignited, filling the courtyard with a massive ball of flames.
The blast shook the concrete wall, causing it to crack and buckle in places as bodies flew off the parapet, landing several spans away from where Shulgi stood. Burning shrapnel crashed through the gate, leaving a gaping hole. The energy shield crackling over the gate flickered out.
The sounds of gunfire rattled in the ringing aftermath of the blast as Urbarra’s infiltrators engaged the sniper, allowing Shulgi to break cover and slip through the hole in the gate.
He moved from cover to cover in the hellscape of a courtyard as fires continued to burn wherever flaming debris had struck. Some of Ma’Nah’s guards and employees tried to put out the flames, but most of the civilians were now running towards the gates to escape.
Shulgi was pleased to see them evacuating of their own accord. He intended to activate the evacuation protocol if Namerian hadn’t already done so before blowing the place, but he was working with a very limited window of time and couldn’t risk any delays. The sooner the innocent civilians cleared the place, the better.
More of Urbarra’s pack congregated beyond the gate now. Shulgi had asked them to scan the evacuees and detain any of them who appeared to be carrying anything that might contain a sample of the cure. There was still a risk that one sample might slip through in the chaos, but Urbarra’s men were experts at operating in such conditions and weren’t likely to let that happen.
Shulgi had no choice but to put that responsibility on others as he made his way through the courtyard. He had his own part to play in this mission.
He killed every guard he encountered but allowed the civilians to spill past him if they didn’t attempt to play the hero. At the entry doors he discovered that his biometrics still worked, shaking his head at Namerian’s oversight, but pleased he wouldn’t have to go to extra effort to break into Ma’Nah.
More resistance met him inside the lobby, but he made quick work of the half dozen guards who tried to stand between him and his goal. He skipped the elevator platform to Namerian’s office, spreading his wings to fly up to Namerian’s floor. Guards spilled onto the balconies on each level, aiming their weapons to fire upon him, but a spray of rounds from Shulgi’s rifle took most of them out. Several of them got a few hits in on him, and he was pleased that the armor he wore deflected the worst of the damage, though the impact staggered him enough that his wings had to work overtime to keep him in the air.
They didn’t bother trying to shoot his wings. Given how fast they moved, they were a difficult target to hit, and every Iriduan knew that. Most Iriduan soldiers didn’t even bother with such tactics, finding the body a much larger and more solid prospect. A good body hit usually brought down a flying Iriduan. Fancy shots to the wings belonged only in the action video plays and games not intended to simulate genuine combat.
Shulgi landed lightly on the top floor of the building, raising his rifle to destroy the broad glass window that looked out onto the lobby of the factory. Namerian really should have chosen bullet-proof material for the inner window as well as the outer one, but he’d preferred the look of true crystalline glass.
Not that Shulgi couldn’t find another way to break into his office, but this one was more dramatic, and gave Namerian less time to react.
The shattered pieces of the window rained down like a waterfall that made it difficult for the three guards protecting Namerian to target Shulgi effectively. Shulgi’s heightened senses, speed, and training allowed him to drop them quickly, even through the obscuring broken glass. By the time the last of the glass shards drifted down between Shulgi and Namerian the final guard crumpled to the ground.
Not one of them had scored a hit on Shulgi.
Namerian held a pistol pointed at Shulgi, his hand trembling, his violet eyes wide and frightened above his mask. “Who are you? You can’t possibly work for Zaska!”
Shulgi flicked his wings as he stepped over the threshold of broken glass, his boots crunching on the pieces scattered over the lush carpeting.
Namerian’s eyes widened as they focused on the verdant length of his wings. “Shulgi!” His face paled until it turned a sickly gray. “I-I killed you!”
Then he fired his pistol desperately, forcing Shulgi to duck behind a solid stone block that served as a side table for one of the office’s lounging chairs. “Give it up, Namerian. You can’t defeat me with that little rock skipper.”
“If you were bullet proof, you wouldn’t be hiding right now!” Namerian’s voice shook with fear, despite his confident words.
Even he didn’t believe them.
“You’ll never make it out of this office,” Shulgi said, glancing down at his rifle to check the power and ammunition status.
The weapon wasn’t the best one he’d ever used, but it had proved adequate thus far, and the ammo capacity was exceptional. Namerian’s little pistol wouldn’t last long in a firefight.
“Reinforcements will come.” Namerian’s voice trembled as much as his hand. “You can’t kill them all, Shulgi.”
Shulgi smiled grimly. “You sure about that? You willing to bet your life on it, Namerian?”
“Curse the blighted web!” Namerian’s voice came from a different position, but Shulgi’s heightened hearing had already detected his movement from the swishing of his shoes on the carpet. “What do you want from me, Shulgi? What can I do to convince you to spare my life?”
“Where is Molly?” Shulgi growled, shifting in his crouch as he poked his head around the block.
Namerian fired on him as soon as he spotted movement, but his aim was wild and Shulgi moved far too quickly for him. His change in position made it possible for Shulgi to sneak around the block, then dart behind one of the lounging chairs, working his way towards flanking Namerian.
“I didn’t kill her!” The direction of Namerian’s voice told Shulgi he still faced the side table.
“Where is she, curse you!”
Shulgi heard Namerian’s gasp as he shifted, then targeted the lounging chair. Several rounds punched through the upholstery, sending stuffing flying. Shulgi had already moved on to the next block table by the time Namerian reacted to his change in position.
“I sold her!” Namerian’s tone sounded pleading now, even as he backed towards the elevator that would take him to the lab. “I can tell you where you can find her, if you just leave here now.”
Shulgi needed him to enter in his access code before he killed him anyway. Might as well have him do it now.
“Don’t make me torture it out of you, Namerian. Because you know I will. You know exactly what I’m capable of. You said yourself I am a monster. I’ve never felt more like embracing that title than I do right now.”
Namerian tried to be stealthy as he entered his code into the panel, but Shulgi heard the biometrics scanner as it passed over Namerian’s retina. It was such a soft sound Namerian likely barely noticed it, but he’d never experienced combat stimulants before.
Shulgi burst out of cover, firing his rifle low. He wasn’t a fan of aiming for legs. They were generally far more difficult to hit than the center mass of the body, but he couldn’t afford for Namerian to die just yet.
Soon, though. Definitely soon.
Namerian yelped in pain as a round struck his thigh. The elevator seemed to taunt him as the secret door panel chose that very moment to slide open.
Shulgi fell upon him before he could aim his pistol, moving so fast that he had ahold of Namerian’s robe before the other male’s yelp of pain died out.
“Drop it!” Shulgi demanded, pushing the barrel of his rifle so hard against Namerian’s chin that the scientist was forced to stare upwards to ease the pressure.
The pistol made a thud as it struck the carpet and Shulgi kicked it away with one foot without sparing a glance at it.
“Where. Is. She?” he growled in Namerian’s face.
“Uthagol,” Namerian whimpered, his trembling now so bad that his wings shivered, making a rasping sound. “I sold her to the brothel queen. She had a bounty on the female.”
“And you call me the monster, Namerian,” Shulgi snarled, recalling what he knew of Uthagol.
It wasn’t as much as he’d like to know, given that the creature now had Molly in her clutches, but Uthagol wasn’t a figure of mystery either. He could locate her headquarters with a little assistance now that he had her name.
“We were trying to do the right thing,” Namerian insisted, the tremor in his voice breaking up his words. “The cure is the most important thing any Iriduan could ever do! She stood in the way—a distraction for you that could have ended up destroying Ma’Nah. You can’t let a woman be the reason you end all of this. We can still salvage the mission!”
Shulgi glanced at the elevator, then returned his unforgiving gaze to Namerian. The other male’s violet eyes widened when they met his.
“Shulgi,” he hissed, clutching at Shulgi’s hand fisted in his robe with both hands, struggling fruitlessly in his hard grip. “Don’t do this, creche-kin! We-we can work this out!”
Shulgi wanted to make Namerian suffer for what he’d done. He wanted to hurt him for a very long time before he gave him the peace of death. Unfortunately, he lacked the time for such measures, so he pulled the trigger on his rifle, spattering Namerian’s blood and brain matter over the elevator access panel and the wall it was set into.
He tossed Namerian’s corpse aside and stepped into the elevator. It took only a short trip to reach the lab, and he stepped out firing when the door opened. Two of the scientists desperately trying to pack up samples went down in the first hail of bullets. Shulgi continued to fire, destroying equipment and work benches as screaming scientists dived behind them.
Alad huddled in one tight corner between two shelves as Shulgi cleared the rest of the lab, walking over broken crystalline and destroyed electronics, plastics, and tortured metal. His boots crunched on the debris as he approached the young Iriduan. Alad held a case of sample vials in one shaking hand, the other held a pistol that he didn’t lift to aim at Shulgi.
The youth shuddered and shook, his eyes gleaming with an unnatural light. Shulgi sighed sadly, bringing his rifle to bear on Alad.
This was one kill he did not relish, but it appeared to already be too late for Alad.
The youth shoved him back with a mental push, sending Shulgi sliding across the tile floor. Alad cried out in triumph as he slowly rose to his feet, his eyes glowing brighter as he tossed the pistol aside and lifted his hand, palm towards Shulgi.
“I have returned,” he said in a deep voice that sounded nothing like the timorous youth. “Lower your weapon and bow down to your lord. Bow to Enlil!”
Shulgi emptied the rest of his ammo into the youth, shredding his body so that the nanites would struggle to rebuild it before the blast went off that even they could not survive.
With a heavy sigh, he shrugged the bomb pack off his back and set it up on the work bench, arming it quickly.
Then he set off the evacuation announcement, though he hoped all the civilians had cleared out by this time. There wasn’t much time left for them to do so.
There wasn’t much time left for him to do so.
He contacted Urbarra to let him know to withdraw his men, then made his own way back to the factory floor, pleased to see that the building was nearly emptied, and those who yet remained were running for their lives.
Small explosions set by Urbarra’s men had destroyed many of the pools, leaving the factory floor spattered and slippery with algae. Shulgi skirted the worst of the mess, striding towards the exit and meeting no resistance on his way out.
Once outside, he made his way to the destroyed gate, scanning the courtyard to make sure no civilians remained. Seeing the area was clear, he followed the last stragglers to the rally point, standing among the confused and traumatized civilians as Urbarra’s men checked them all for vials.
His wrist com beeped an alarm and Shulgi sucked in a breath, closing his eyes as the factory went up with a massive, booming explosion.
It wasn’t until the screams died around him that he finally opened his eyes to regard the blazing wreckage with an odd feeling of numbness. His wrist com beeped again. This time with an incoming message.
He checked it, then grimly smiled behind his helmet. Roz was always way ahead of everyone else.
He spoke aloud into his com as he turned and walked away from the panicked crowd that Urbarra’s men were effectively managing to calm down.
“How are you at acting?”
The person on the other end of the com replied quickly.
I don’t know, but I’m always ready to try something new.
Shulgi grinned in anticipation as he requested assistance in locating Uthagol’s headquarters—the center of her web—and then he explained the details of his plan.
