Page 29 of Ashes & Aether

“The blast doors are jamming, ma’am!” Jenkins shouts over the sirens. “Debris in the tracks. They can’t lock!”

“I will handle the doors.” My nano armor floods over my skin with a thought. I look at Maggie. “Stay up here.”

“Not a chance.” She bypasses me, her heels clicking rapidly against the concrete as she heads for the corridor. “Sector Four houses the primary generators. If they destroy the power grid, the surface turrets go dark. The entire palace falls.”

“Maggie, you are wearing a tailored suit and carrying a primitive gun,” I argue, falling into step beside her. My longer strides easily match her frantic pace. “You are not equipped for close-quarters combat with a Ghorvek.”

“I am equipped to command my people.” She doesn’t break stride. “Shoot the aliens, spymaster. Leave the logistics to me.”

We reach the main stairwell leading to the lower levels. The smell hits my enhanced senses before the visuals do. The putrid, rotting stench of Ghorvek hide mixing with the copper tang of fresh blood and the sharp bite of electrical fires.

Gunfire echoes up the concrete shaft, a desperate rattle of human weapons attempting to pierce alien armor.

I activate my visor, the heads-up display feeding me thermal signatures through the concrete. A dozen massive heat blooms swarm the lower landing.

“Stay behind me,” I order.

I do not wait for her argument. I vault over the metal railing, dropping two stories straight down into the chaos. I hit the concrete landing with bone-shattering force, the impact absorbers in my suit neutralizing the kinetic energy. I land in the center of a nightmare.

The blast doors are wedged open, crushed under a slab of collapsed ceiling. Ghorvek pour through the gap, hulking gray-green masses of muscle, armor plating, and serrated teeth. Five human soldiers form a broken defensive line behind overturned supply crates, their rifles flashing.

A Ghorvek rears back, its morphing claws extending to skewer a wounded soldier on the floor.

I activate my plasma blade and step into the creature’s guard, severing the arm at the elbow. The Ghorvek roars, a deafening, gurgling sound, spinning to face me. I don’t give it the opportunity. I drive the blade through the center of its chest, rupturing two of its four hearts, and kick the massive corpse off my weapon.

“Hold the line!” I bellow at the humans, spinning to face the breach.

Then combat routines drilled into my muscle memory take over. I duck a sweeping claw, slice through a thick, gray knee joint, and unleash a palm-pulse emitter into the face of a third creature, cooking its brain inside its skull.

Black blood slicks the concrete. The heat of the plasma blade cauterizes the wounds, filling the cramped corridor with the sickening smell of burnt flesh.

From the stairs behind me, a rhythmic series of gunshots rings out.

I glance over my shoulder. Maggie stands on the bottom step, her posture impeccable, both hands gripping her pistol. She fires with terrifying discipline. Two rounds to the knee of a charging Ghorvek, dropping its massive bulk, allowing the human heavy gunners to tear through its exposed neck.

She isn’t panicking. She isn’t screaming. She commands the room with cold, lethal precision.

SUBJECT: ELMSLEIGH, MARGARET.

STATUS ASSESSMENT: MAGNIFICENT.

I turn my attention back to the blast doors. “Cover the flanks!” I shout, carving a path through three more Ghorvek to reach the jammed mechanism.

I wedge my shoulder under the bent steel of the doorframe. My nanite armor assists me with the weight I’d otherwise never move on my own. I push, gritting my teeth, the orange glow of my suit flaring bright enough to cast shadows against the walls.

The concrete block shifts. The debris clears the track.

“Now!” I roar.

The human operators hit the manual override. The heavy steel doors groan, sliding shut with agonizing slowness. I step back, guarding the narrowing gap.

Only a sliver of darkness remains.

Then, the concrete wall to my left explodes.

I miscalculated. I tracked the thermal signatures in the corridor, ignoring the weak structural integrity of the adjacent ventilation shaft.

A Ghorvek bursts through the plaster and rebar, bypassing me entirely. It doesn’t aim for the soldiers. It charges straight for the figure standing on the stairs.