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Lycodrake - Clever Disguise - by DarkSilvania — Description
Hyena and Serpent
---Part ??? - Fr0st of Blo0d

xxxxxxx

Static-

What are they, these crystalline beings?

They are the same size as the MEKs one second, and the next, the same as the average person.

I have a migraine. Looking at them makes my mind whirl in confusion.

So why and how am I defending myself from them?

I'm not a soldier, nor a warrior.

I'm barely even a good mechanic.

I'm the guy most mechanics scoff at: "all ideas and little to no practical applications".

But I'm firing the weapon in my hand, outside of the comfort and protection of my MEK, and holding my own.

No…I'm only defending. They fire off shards of metal and of ice.

Like meteorites in the shape of barbs and bolts.

And these…things, beings, they are probing my defenses.

I was so stupid.

I should have run. But I didn't.

But…here on -static-, with corpses already littering the tundra, there is nowhere to run, and nowhere to hide.

I feel a jagged spear before I see it. My leg has already been pinned down.

Blood. Red. Pain. Bone injury.

Three ounces of blood. Thirty-seven and two stitches. Five splinters.

Why am I laughing?

I volley off another shot. The fire whirs.

This isn't funny. I'm laughing again, though.

Who is laughing with me? Why is it mixed with anger and amusement?

Static.

"You are an idiot of the highest order. The Darwin award would be too low of an honor."

One of the things is smashed into by the shaft of a spear, the hand at the middle already twirling it back into a defensive stance.

"I know." He's still bleeding.

"…she is about to rear her head."

"For the fourth time, I'm glad to hear that." This time he laughs in sync.

"Good. Try to not lose more blood. Or whine too much. She doesn't like whiners."

He nods slowly, "Yeah." A pause, "…Nikita on the way, or did Rusija's poster-boy get a different mission?"

"He's back at the first site, cleaning up and helping the medics check on the wounded…and the dead."

"How many?"

"…four dozen accounted for. Nine still unsighted. Half wounded, the other half barely alive." She pauses, "…get ready."

"…I'll try to hold on. I can't feel this leg."

"The aim is to evacuate the island and quarantine and blockade all established ports. Father is already…" she breathes heavily, "Already on the scene."

"…ah."

Her face contorts. He knows what's about to happen next. All he can do now is keep on firing until further help arrives. For once he might appreciate Nikita's help. And her's.

xxxxxxx

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