Ferret was turning his head as Thor spoke, and realized something was wrong. He didn’t know what that thing flying in from behind the boulder was at first, but he knew it was bad.
Luckily, he had been setting up his position behind a low finger of rock, to at least have the illusion of privacy. He ducked flat and hoped he’d be covered from whatever stupid stunt Dagger was pulling. He didn’t care if he got laughed at for putting his face in the dirt. If this was a joke, it was a bad one.
He felt the angry lash of the grenade, and knew he was wounded. At first, that’s all it was, an agonizing rip through his body, bright flashes in his eyes. But he was alive. He concentrated on that. His awareness returned, with his feet kicking convulsively. The pain resolved as a searing, cramping burn from his mid-calves down. He’d been mostly covered from the rays of the blast, but his feet had protruded beyond the rock and been exposed, and it hurt, oh shit it hurt.
Now he had to move. That couldn’t have been by accident, and Dagger would be coming back to kill him. He also noticed as he scanned the area that the bodies in front of him didn’t include Tirdal. Was that damned Darhel in on this? Not good. Whatever was happening was not good. He scrabbled for a gap between the rocks and tried to squirm through, but got stuck. It would be easy to push himself through with his feet, except his feet were not working, except that the nerves were working and they fucking hurt. There was firing behind him and that was a bad sign.
By sheer force that strained a tricep into a sting that paled compared to his feet, he wiggled out. He held still as he saw Tirdal go jogging past below, headed downstream with the artifact.
Oh, son of a bitch, he thought. Had it all been a setup to get that artifact? Or had Tirdal and Dagger cut a deal this evening? “Captain?” he whispered into his commo, craving a reassuring voice. There was no reply. He knew they were dead, but he had to check. Scrolling through channels, he tried, “Sarge? Doll? Thor? Gorilla?” with no responses. Panic set in as he realized he was in command now, with two traitors, and it didn’t matter a damn, because he was going to be killed. And even if he wasn’t killed, the neural damage to his ankles and feet meant he might get gangrene and die shortly anyway. He couldn’t very well amputate, and he had no way of repairing nerves in the field. Was gangrene possible? He didn’t know. Not that it mattered; he was lame.
He scrabbled higher up the slope, keeping low, keeping hidden. This part he could do on hands and knees for now, though he’d have to watch where his dangling feet went or he’d leave a clear sign of his passing. He didn’t just need to worry about Blobs now, this was Dagger who would be stalking him. And Tirdal could probe his mind. He wasn’t sure there was anywhere safe at this point, but he couldn’t just lie there and wait for a shot.
Ferret was scared. He wasn’t afraid to admit it. He was just old enough to grasp mortality, and it was staring hard at him. He couldn’t see any way of coming out of this alive, but the few hours or days he might have were precious beyond anything else.
Carefully, he made his way uphill under waving fronds and tangled stems. Height would give him a better chance at a shot, as long as he could stay hidden, because Dagger’s sensors and eyes would be looking for him, and the way he’d shot against Thor was just terrifying. And Tirdal had been following Ferret the entire trip, with that Sense of his, staring into his soul.
Ferret took a deep, slow breath and tried to calm down. He knew he was panicking, he knew he was in shock, and he knew his pulse was beating way too fast for health.
There was a dimple in the earth, thickly overgrown with greenery, and slightly damp. It would shield him for now. His heat would balance out the evaporative cooling of the earth, and he should be able to blend into the background. He elbowed and kneed his way around to the far side and slithered in.
Dagger was happy. That was a rare thing. But a billion credits could buy a lot of happiness. With a billion credits he could move himself to Kali and spend the rest of his life abusing worshippers. He could have himself rejuvenated as many times as he wished and when even rejuv failed could have his brain transferred to a new body and go on having fun. Maybe a woman’s body. Maybe he’d do that anyway, just for the kicks. A billion credits were going to buy a lot of pleasure.
He stood up as soon as the grenade settled down, stepped down and glanced around the clearing at the spasming and very dead bodies. Good. They were all assholes anyway. Where the hell was the…
Tirdal couldn’t localize the satisfied emotion but he heard a movement that wasn’t thrashing and fired along the vector. But as he did he sensed the surprise and flight emotions as well. He ripped out a series of shots to either side of where he thought the sniper had been but realized that he’d missed. It wasn’t really surprising. It was all he could do at this moment, though. Dagger might dodge into a beam. What was the motive here? Was simple greed enough to cause a trained professional to kill his teammates? Or did Dagger harbor some deeper issue? The human mind was a difficult thing to understand. For now, the motives weren’t important. Tirdal kept shooting as he skittered down the hill with the artifact, leaving obvious drag marks but needing distance and time.
Dagger dove and rolled, knowing what was going to happen. He also noted that the damned box was gone. The heat detector on his rifle had the Darhel more or less pinpointed so he let loose a hornet round and got the hell out of dodge, keeping those rocks between them as a punch gun poounked behind him. Then there was more firing. It wasn’t very accurate yet but that could change. What the hell had happened? He’d seen that damned Darhel in the clearing. He’d made sure of it, because killing the damned smart-ass Elf was the frosting on the cake. Certainly it had sensed him, but how in the fuck had that little bastard got the box and lit out over the rocks into a shadow zone before the grenade had fuzed?
Tirdal’s shoulder was hurting but he ignored it as he stood up and started to the side. It was that moment that the hornet round came flying around the boulder.
The hornet round could track on several items but the chameleon suit was giving off enough heat that that was the easiest. It lofted at a relatively low velocity until it decided it had a good track then went into high-speed acquisition.
The shot had been just a hope and a prayer for Dagger. The defensive sensors on Tirdal’s harness spotted the energy release on launch and as the device came around the rock a beam of high-intensity protons met it. The protons caused the body of the device to emit its own personal EMP field, tearing apart most of the electronics that controlled it. The weapon had lined up for its attack run but the EMP shut down its systems and although it continued towards the Darhel it was at far below killing velocity.
The projectile still slammed into Tirdal at over a thousand meters per second. Bullets, or even hypervelocity beads, don’t knock people down, but the impact cracked his lower chest plate and knocked the air out of his lungs. He managed to roll away from the rocks to a new cover position, wincing in pain and controlling his breathing to maintain consciousness. He hunched deeply under an alcove in the slope and kept his punch gun pointed up and out, in case Dagger should appear in front of him. Then he got his brain working again, through a miasma of sparks in his vision and a roaring in his ears.