The Cyber Chronicles VI - Warrior Breed (28 page)

Pain flashed
up his leg, and his arms were on fire. Cyber One spun, kicking
again, but Sabre was already performing an identical move, and
neither blow landed. Sabre leapt high and aimed a kick at his
opponent's head. Cyber One ducked and jumped forward as Sabre
landed, aiming a spinning kick at Sabre's head. Sabre flung himself
into a backward handspring, and his boots' reinforced toes hit
Cyber One under the chin and lifted him off the floor. The cyber
performed a graceful backward somersault and landed on his feet.
Diving into a forward roll, he leaped up beside Sabre, spun and
drove his fists into Sabre's ribs.

Sabre whipped
away, making the blow a glancing one, and punched the side of Cyber
One's head, knocking him down. He rolled to his feet and dived into
another forward handspring. Sabre leapt over him, performed a
backward twisting somersault and landed on his feet facing his
opponent. Cyber One leapt into a high spinning kick, his boot
missing Sabre's head by a hair as Sabre flung himself into a
backward handspring.

The two
control units were fully synchronised now, and the fight became a
ballet of lightning-fast moves resulting in glancing blows. Sabre
let the cyber guide him. His heart was cruising at two hundred and
forty beats per minute and his temperature had peaked at one
hundred and two. Sweat poured off him, and his breathing came in
deep gasps. His bio-status was down to ninety-two per cent.

Atrel’s eyes
were riveted to the spectacular battle, the speed and skill of
which he could hardly believe. The two men moved like panthers,
flew through the air as if they had wings and leapt like they had
springs for legs. Neither hesitated, slipped or stumbled; their
movements flowed with supreme precision, and they seemed to be
reading each other's minds. Almost every blow was countered, and
those that did land appeared to have little effect.

They made no
sound apart from their quick breaths and the occasional thud of
fist or foot on flesh. If they had not been flesh and blood, he
would have mistaken them for machines. They appeared to be
following a routine, and he began to see patterns forming in it.
The agility and stamina they exhibited was unbelievable, and he
glanced around to ensure that he was not seeing things, but the
soldiers were equally entranced. The fight had been going on for
almost half an hour, yet neither warrior showed any sign of
fatigue. Sabre's face, neck and arms gleamed with sweat. His
opponent was clad in full armour, which was cracked now on the
helmet and chest.

In the middle
of an established pattern, Sabre's hands flashed out, breaking the
flow, and gripped his opponent's helmet, twisting his head with a
violent jerk that should have broken his neck. Instead, he spun
around, and Sabre smashed his brow band into the back of his
opponent's helmet with a resounding crack. Cyber One staggered, and
Sabre brought his fists down on the nape of his neck, hammering him
to the ground. His face smacked into the floor, smashing his
helmet, which split and fell off.

Atrel's eyes
widened at the sight of the stranger's face. Cyber One rolled onto
his back and jerked up his legs, planted them in Sabre's chest and
hurled him away with a powerful kick. Sabre landed on his feet,
staggered back a little, then leapt forward again as Cyber One
jumped up, smashing his feet into his opponent's face. Cyber One
fell back, cracking his skull on the floor again. In Atrel's
opinion, both men should have been dead.

****

Someone shook
Fairen’s shoulder, rousing him from a deep slumber, and his
commander's voice called his title urgently. Fairen shrugged him
off and burrowed deeper into the voluminous bed, pulling the duvet
over his head.

"My Lord, I
have urgent news," Commander Shrain insisted.

"Go away."

"My Lord, you
told me to inform you as soon as -"

"I said go
away, Shrain, I'm asleep."

"We've located
the cyber, My Lord."

"Excellent."

"He's in
danger. Overlord Ramadaus has him."

Fairen flung
off the bedcovers and stared owlishly up at Commander Shrain.
"What?"

"Overlord
Ramadaus has him, My Lord."

Fairen sat up
and reached for his trousers. "How do you know this?"

"We received a
message from Tassin Alrade. She asks for your aid."

"When did you
receive the message?"

"Just five
minutes ago, My Lord. I came to tell you immediately."

Fairen groped
on the floor for his shoes. "Good. Prepare for translocation at
once."

"The ship is
assuming translocation configuration even as we speak."

Fairen pulled
on his shirt. "Make it an emergency translocation."

"Yes, My
Lord."

Fairen
fastened his shirt and tucked it into his trousers. The distant
metallic groans and clangs of the ship's transformation came
faintly through the walls as the giant legs retracted to lie beside
the hull. A faint vibration shivered the floor as the translocation
generators powered up. Fairen stood up, straightened his shirt and
ran a hand through his hair.

"Are we ready
yet?"

"There is a
delay, My Lord. They're still tracing the signal."

"Tell them to
hurry up!"

"They're
working at top speed, and the ship isn't in translocation
configuration yet."

"I don't care;
locate the origin of that signal."

"Yes, My
Lord." Shrain typed on his com-link again while Fairen fumed with
impatience. Echoing metallic bangs and sharp reports punctuated the
faint, dull groans of the ship's torpid movement. Fairen headed for
the door, the commander at his heels.

"They've
located the origin of the signal, My Lord."

"Translocate."

"The ship is
thirty seconds from reconfiguration completion."

"Do it
now!"

"There will be
damage to -"

"Now!"

Commander
Shrain tapped his com-link, and an alarm whooped, then everything
seemed to freeze for an instant and icy tingles shot through
Fairen. He closed his eyes as the blinding flash of light filled
the ship, then movement returned, and he stumbled forward.

Shrain reeled
after him, consulting his com-link. "Some damage has occurred to
the main legs, My Lord, we've lost several metres of -"

"Where's
Ramadaus?" Fairen strode into his control room, glancing up at the
empty screens. "Visuals!"

The screens
filled with stars, and the sleek, glittering moth shape of
Ramadaus' ship only a couple of kilometres away. "We're close,
good. Request communications."

"At once, My
Lord." Shrain tapped his com-link.

****

Atrel's
attention was jerked from the battle as a mammoth crimson ship
appeared in the screens behind Ramadaus. It had the shape of a
scorpion, its six legs folded against its sleek hull, except for
the two foremost and longest, which appeared truncated, and debris
floated around their ends.

Commander
Trent pointed at it. "Look, My Lord!"

Ramadaus swung
to face the screens, but seemed unperturbed. "So, he came."

Trent
consulted his com-link. "He's requesting communications."

"Denied."

****

Tassin's heart
leapt when Fairen's ship appeared on Nemesis' screens in a blinding
white flash, and the Trykons frowned at it, looking uneasy. Nemesis
rolled and shuddered in the shockwaves of gravitational distortion
the Scorpion Ship's abrupt appearance caused, due to artificial
wormhole it created to translocate. It folded space and then
punched a hole through it, Sabre had explained. Tarl came to her
side and stared at the ship, whose proximity and sudden arrival
enhanced its sinister appearance.

"The only
question now is, can he stop Ramadaus?" he muttered.

"He's our only
hope."

Tronan shot
her a look that was part disbelieving, part resentful, and she
raised the laser that had drooped in her grip.

****

Fairen scowled
at Shrain. "Put the ship into attack formation."

The
commander's brows vanished into his hair. "My lord?"

"You heard me.
Attack formation, and ready the forward guns."

Shrain tapped
keys on his com-link. "My lord, the main guns would utterly destroy
Ramadaus' ship and all aboard her."

"The main
lasers then."

"They won't
damage Ramadaus' ship."

Fairen's frown
deepened as vast, hollow groans and clangs echoed through the ship.
"Request communications again."

****

Atrel winced
as Sabre smashed his opponent face first into the floor, the
cyber's head bouncing as it struck the ground. Cyber One jerked his
head back, cracking the back of his skull into Sabre's face, and
blood spurted from Sabre's nose. The younger fighter twisted like
an eel, lashing out with a fist that missed Sabre's head by a hair
as he recoiled.

Blood oozed
from Cyber One's nose and ears now. Red marks covered Sabre's arms
and chest, and sweat dripped from them. Neither had broken off the
combat for a moment. The flowing, deadly ballet had not slowed or
faltered, and neither had yet made a single error. All the blows
that had landed had been due to the finesse and skill of their
delivery, but, despite their bone-crushing power and accuracy, had
caused remarkably little damage. The fighters looked like they
could continue the battle for several more hours.

"My lord,
Overlord Fairen's ship is assuming an attack configuration,"
Commander Trent stated.

Ramadaus
turned to face the screens again. "He's bluffing."

"He's
requesting communications again."

"Denied."

Atrel stared
at the crimson ship, whose long, sweeping arms moved away from its
hull, spreading out as if to capture prey.

****

"Communications denied," Shrain said, looking nervous.

Fairen glared
at him. "Translocate me to Ramadaus' ship."

"His shields
are up, My Lord."

"Damn him!
Bastard!" His nostrils flared and his brows knotted further. His
face went cold as the blood drained from it, fury making his heart
thud. "Ramming speed."

"What?"

"You heard me!
Ramming speed. Ram him!"

"Sir, you
cannot attack a fellow Overlord."

Fairen's hands
curled into fists. "You will do as I order, or I'll do it
myself!"

"My lord,
surely one man's life is not worth endangering two Overlords and
their crews?"

"Do it!"

Shrain tapped
his com-link with shaking fingers. After a brief, pregnant pause,
the stars started to move across the screens as the Scorpion Ship's
thrusters fired. Fairen sank down in his huge chair, staring at the
screens as the Moth Ship grew larger in them.

"Configure the
main arms to take the brunt of the impact."

"Yes, My
Lord."

****

Tassin's mouth
fell open as she stared at the vast crimson ship. Tongues of fire
sprouted from thrusters along its stern, and the long forward arms
began to stretch out ahead of it.

Tarl gave a
hiss of amazement. "What the hell is he doing?"

"He's
attacking Ramadaus." Tears of gratitude and joy stung her eyes, and
a lump blocked her throat. "He's going to save Sabre."

"Why the hell
would an Overlord attack one of his own to save an ex-cyber?"

"Sabre saved
his life."

"Even so..."
Tarl shook his head. "I thought he would persuade Ramadaus, not
attack him."

****

"My lord!"
Commander Trent pointed at the screens. "Look!"

Ramadaus swung
around. "What the hell is that idiot doing?"

"He's ramming
us! We can't translocate, he's too close!"

"Evasive
action!"

Trent typed on
his com-link, and a moment later the ship started to move. "He's
going too fast, My Lord, we can't avoid him."

"Brace for
impact."

The commander
keyed his com-link, and an alarm whooped through the ship. Atrel
tore his gaze from the approaching ship to glance at the battling
warriors, whose deadly dance continued without pause. Cyber One's
armour was smashed, and only broken pieces remained over a
skin-tight black suit. He looked back at the screens, where the
Scorpion Ship now blocked out all the stars. Hundreds of thousands
of tiny lights shimmered over it like diamonds, each one a portal,
giving an idea of its size. Never had he seen a ship so huge, and
the prospect of it crashing into Ramadaus' vessel dried the last of
his spit.

The leading
edge of the Scorpion Ship's main arms struck Ramadaus' ship just
below the screens with a rending, hollow boom. They buckled, and
Atrel was flung across the floor despite the powerful stasis field
that sprang into being to counteract the brutal inertia. The
soldiers fell too, and the fighters slid across the smooth floor,
regained their feet and continued their battle as if nothing had
happened. Ramadaus clung to the arms of a jewelled chair that had
risen from the floor, his veiled head raised to stare at the
screens. The Scorpion Ship's forward arms continued to buckle as if
in slow motion, and a growling metallic groan shuddered through the
ship.

Commander
Trent picked himself up off the floor, consulting his com-link.
"Main forward hull breached; decks two hundred through two hundred
and seven losing pressure. Evacuating decks."

"Request
communications with Fairen."

****

“
Ramadaus requests contact, My Lord,” Commander Shrain informed
Fairen.

"No," Fairen
snarled. "Too late. Now I want to confront him face to face. Are
his shields still up?"