Part VIII – The Eudoran Setup
Declan wipes the sweat from his brow with his hand and feels his pulse racing. The long fight has really tired him out.
“How you doing?” he asks Wilson.
“Bruised, battered, tired, and my armor’s almost gone, but I’ll live. Assuming we get outta here.”
“Oh c’mon, we’ll make it. This’s been easy. These security teams are nothing to two pros like us, old buddy.” He’s lying, though. His E-shields are low, and his light armor vest isn’t much good against high power bolters on its own. He’s tired; worn out from fighting through the complex.
‘If only we’d noticed that alarm back in the lab. That’s really Wilson’s job, but can’t be too hard on him. He hasn’t been doing this sort of thing as long as I have.’
“We can take those stairs down to the third floor, then the lift to the transport to the subway,” Wilson says after checking the map of the complex on his On-Body-Computer.
“Let’s do it, then.”
They run down the stairs and step into the hallway. Wilson draws his bolter pistol and loads a new clip. Declan has his vibro-sword drawn, and his other hand at the ready by his side to grab the vibro-knives from in his coat. He’d rather not use the last few charges in his bolter unless he has to.
They walk cautiously toward the elevator down the hall. It’s very dim due to the damage to the generator their fight caused, so Declan puts on his low-light glasses. They hear the elevator door open, and a lone, dark figure steps into the hallway.
‘White skin, black hat, gloves… Shit! Eudoran!’ Declan pushes Wilson into an open doorway. “Quiet,” he whispers. He sees Wilson’s puzzled expression, and whispers to him.
“A fucking Eudoran. They’re Teeps; you know telepaths.” Wilson nods. “On three. Ready, one, two… three.”
They jump out, Wilson firing four shots down the hall at the Eudoran. The shots are stopped short by an E-shield and the Eudoran’s armor coat.
The Eudoran looks at Wilson and waves his hand in Wilson’s direction. His bolter explodes in his hand, sending its energy and metal shards into his body. He drops to the floor, twitching and gasping for air. Declan looks down at his friend, then charges the Eudoran, yelling as he swings his sword. His strike is parried by a blade of blue energy that suddenly materializes in the Eudoran’s hand.
‘Shit! What the fuck is that?!’ Declan thinks as he fences the Eudoran and the psi-blade. ‘This Eudoran’s a great swordsman. I’m dead if I don’t get the hell out of here. The Company pulled out all the stops for this one. Fucking psychic swordsman.’
Declan steps back away from the Eudoran, who waves his hand, and Declan’s body is flung against the ceiling, then dropped to the floor with a thud. His head bounces off the floor, and one of his ankles breaks. He turns onto his back, and throws two vibro-knives at the advancing Eudoran. They stop in mid-flight, turn, and fly back at Declan, one impaling his left leg, the other just missing his head. He winces in pain and reaches for his leg.
The Eudoran reaches down and grabs his short, black hair, turning Declan’s face toward his own. The Eudoran holds the psi-blade to Declan’s forehead. “Don’t worry,” he says. “This won’t hurt as much as killing you would.” He stabs the blade into Declan’s head, scrambling his brain functions like an egg. For a second, Declan wonders if he’ll be a vegetable; but only for a second. After that, he is incapable of thought at all.