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EPISODE FOUR
by Dan Wallace
Wargen
Rast stood in the middle of what looked like a war zone. The Alliance
Guard’s communications room was littered with debris from shattered
computer consoles. Freshly coated walls were pockmarked from laser fire.
The security door had been ripped free of its frame and thrown across the
room. Acrid fumes filled the air and were not being filtered out by the
building’s automated systems. Since intruder alarms had yet to sound
despite the obvious breach in security, it could only be assumed that much
of the defensive equipment had been rendered inoperative.
Oblivious to the
smoking ruins which surrounded him for the second time in his short life
was Brithe who laid unconscious and bleeding, a victim of Rast’s savage
assault.
Areon, however, was
still quite conscious as he somersaulted across the room, dodging the
ongoing laser barrage. As Rast’s targeting scanners locked in on him, the
firing grew closer and more intense. Despite his best efforts, Areon was
already growing fatigued and his evasive acrobatics would not keep him out
of harm’s way for much longer.
Several more intense
seconds passed before he saw the brief opening he had been looking for. He
rebounded off a wall to come in at Rast from above, slamming his bare feet
into the armored mercenary’s chest. “That kid better be all right.
Otherwise, what’s left of your life ain’t gonna be pretty!”
Rast stumbled back and
nearly fell out into the hall but grabbed the twisted edge of the doorframe
to brace himself. As he regained his balance, his opaque face shield masked
his confident smile. “He should be the least of your worries you stupid
little jungle savage! If that’s the best you can do you’re as good as dead
already.
“I came here expecting
more from you four but it looks like most of my preparations were wasted on
you. As it is, you’ll be joining your friends in no time.”
His words caught Areon
off guard and he was momentarily stunned. “My…? Devin an’ Cory? You killed
them?”
He could feel the blood
draining from his face and his stomach knotted up inside him as he realized
the true threat his assailant posed. No longer was this some ambiguous
intruder. There was a larger plan at work here that had already taken out
the rest of his team. No daring, last minute rescue was going to save him.
This was exactly the
type of threat the Guard had been formed to defend against and Areon now
stood alone between this powerful foe and whatever deadly goals he pursued.
The price of failure was just too high and he had to find a way to end this
now.
Areon crouched into a
ball and sprang forward, hurling himself across the room. “Whatever chances
you had of walkin’ out of here alive just went out the window.”
Rast remained
motionless, a cold, metallic figure, calmly biding his time. At the last
possible instant, he brought his fists up together, producing a loud crack
as they impacted with Areon’s jaw. The stocky Atraelian was deflected in
his flight to slam headfirst into the ceiling. His body immediately went
limp and he fell back to the floor in a heap.
Rast gathered his final
two victims, throwing Brithe over his shoulder and dragging Areon by the
furry coat between his shoulder blades.
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"Distant Storms" is ©
and ™ Dan Wallace 2001
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