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Strine City Stand Off

Sweet Lady

White Day

Strine City Stand Off

   The taser rod bit hard into the females leg impeding her stride.
   “I said move faster, psych-bum. We ain’t got all day.”
   Aron was moving the Naturals today and the buyers were not ones to be kept waiting. He could always find new buyers. After all, Naturals fetched a high price, but these buyers didn’t take too kindly to being messed around. And they paid over the odds.
   Another taser rod strike, this time to a particularly skinny man who was slowing down.
   Aron had taken charge of the twelve Naturals two days ago. He’d managed to secure a good deal on them because the previous owners got scared. They’d heard the so called Psychic Knights were seen in the system recently and bottled it. Wanted to offload them quickly. Aron happened to be in the right place at the right time.
   What sort of pompous name is the Psychic Knights, anyway, he thought to himself.
   He’d arrived on Shernon with a couple of days to spare, but being the party animal he was he’d spent most of that in the bars and strip joints with his partners on this venture. His brother, Marno and his cousin Delly, his regular partners were joined by four muscle-for-hire guys he’d picked up at Fortunata on Daros.
   The transporter was not so much purring as it was growling in the parking bay. It’s old fossil fuel engine almost out-living its usefulness and on its last legs. Delly was behind the controls above the container that was going to hold the Naturals. It was built to carry carcases and bodies found laying in the streets of Strine City, but Aron wasn’t going to be wasting money on fancy transport for the Natural scum.
   The stench almost overwhelmed him as he got close to the open side door of the vehicle. One of the hired muscle, Harrin, was standing next to it, his scrunched up top jammed against his nose.
   “Sheesh! Couldn’t you at least have got it cleaned out, Delly.”
   “I did. You should have seen the mess that was in it before.”
   The Naturals started filing onto the transporter. Three of them wretched, coughing up blood due to the fact they hadn’t eaten for the last three days. Harrin slid the door shut as the last one stepped in.
   “We’ll be close behind,” Aron shouted up over the noise of the engine. “Keep to the planned route. No deviations. Anything could be down these back streets and the more of the open roads we stick to the less likely we’ll be ambushed.”
   Delly nodded in response.
   Aron had only travelled these streets three times before and the one time he didn’t follow his own advice he suffered at the hands of raiders. He was only part of a single vehicle driving just two miles, but was very late for the meet. He lost everything and wore a facial scare as a reminder, which was the calling card of the raiders who ambushed him.
   Two of the hired muscle jumped on the platform that sat at the rear of the vehicle. They wore armour vests and leggings and boots that were army surplice from some forgotten army since the TechPsychers began to run things. They unholstered their bolt guns and stared at anybody who walked by, enforcing their power.
   The other two were in the smallest of the two armoured vehicles that Aron had hired. They waited at the front of the transporter. It came with a laser cannon on a turret on the roof. The vehicle that he and his brother were in had no armed luxuries. They had to rely on their side arms.
   “Let’s go,” Aron shouted to the front vehicle and quickly jumped into the seat next to his brother. “Keep close, little brother. Don’t let them get more than half a vehicle length away.”
   The convoy slowly rumbled forward in a puff of fumes and detritus stench. It would have looked out of place in any other city on Shernon. But not here. The whole city of Strine was virtually a war zone and any show other than that of force would soon be pounced on.
   Things changed just five minutes into the journey. The lead vehicle pulled up with the cannon darting from side to side looking for a target. The communicator crackled and a deep voice came across the broken airways.
   “We’ve got a blockage in the road.”
   “Any chance it can be moved?” returned Aron.
   “No way. We’d need some heavy lifting equipment.”
   Aron paused for a while studying his surroundings. Tall, run-down buildings overlooked them. Dirty faces peering out of broken windows.
   “It’s a trap,” said Marno.
   “D’ya think,” replied Aron with a strong sense of sarcasm. His brother was sometimes a bit slow on picking up Aron’s hints.
   “OK! Just saying!”
   Aron activated his communicator.
   “Is that left turn our only option?”
   “Yup,” came the reply.
   Again another pause from Aron. His mind was running through the options, but knew there was only one. Going back was out of the question. He didn’t have the time. It would take at least a day going that way.
   “OK. Take it and expect something to happen. Looks like you guys are going to earn your credits.”
   The laser cannon let loose at some unbroken windows amid screams of joy.
   The front vehicle made off to the left and the rest followed.
   The street they had turned into was much smaller. The pavements were half the size and the road itself wouldn’t have accommodated two of the transporters side by side. A lot of the windows had been boarded up. Not because the buildings were abandoned, but because the windows were constantly broken by vandals.
   The lead vehicle followed the road round keeping a steady pace over the rubbish that littered the street. The area turned more industrialised, buildings becoming warehouses and workshops. Another road block forced them to turn left again. As they all made it round the corner there was an almighty explosion that lifted the front vehicle into the air, flipping it onto its roof crushing the cannon and man behind it. The transporter pulled up and then suffered the same fate as a missile hurtled through the air and hit it at its base knocking it onto its side.
   Delly somehow survived with just a few bruises and a deafening ring in his ears. The two hired muscle were thrown across the road, still alive. Aron and Marno were out of their vehicle within seconds and behind the fallen transporter. A third explosion took out their ride and left Aron cursing.
   He desperately looked around for an escape route. Fortunately, the ambush took place right outside a heavily fortified warehouse. He looked around to see who had survived. Only one fatality.
   “Everybody, start getting the Naturals out,” he shouted. Aiming his weapon at the locks on the warehouse door he destroyed all five of them in turn. Jumping up and slamming into it he fell on the ground inside as it gave way. Quickly picking himself up he ran back outside and helped get his cargo out and into the warehouse where they barricaded the door with some heavy equipment they found discarded on the floor.
   Aron was expecting the raiders to surround them before they made it into the building and was surprised they all made it in alive.

   The Savage Mind settled on the ground and the five passengers disembarked to the landing area of Strine City. It was called a landing area because calling it a port of any sort would be miss-using the word. It was just a strip of wasteland on the edge of the city that was over run with weeds.
   There were no authorities to check your credentials. No security. Just empty land. What they did have was minders. Groups of locals that, for a fee, would mind your space craft while you were in the city. Scans on the way down counted two hundred and forty two space craft sitting with their minders prowling around them. An arrangement Roman wasn’t comfortable with.
   “I wished we’d have brought a standard transporter. Don’t like leaving her here.”
   “Stop moaning,” said Ifor. “Nothing happened to her the last two times we’ve been here.”
   “I know, but I still don’t like it.”
   The two men were of similar muscular build, but Roman was two inches shorter than Ifor’s six foot. He was also a shade darker coming from a West Indian heritage. Ifor was of mixed race origins. His parents met fighting together during the race wars just over two hundred years ago.
   They were the first off of the Savage Mind and didn’t have long to wait for offers of help. A group of five young adults came running up to them.
   “My name’s Bress. We’re the best in the business. You won’t get service like ours anywhere on Shernon.”
   The pasty young face exuded confidence and the young man handed over a data slate for Roman to view.
   “List of all the satisfied customers we’ve serviced and their glowing comments.”
   ‘What about the unsatisfied customers,’ Roman sent to Ifor’s mind.
   Ifor smiled, but managed to stop himself laughing.
   “How much?” asked Roman.
   “Five hundred credits for the day.”
   “What?” Roman spurted out. “That’s exorbitant.”
   “That’s the going rate for a premium service like ours.” Bress’s face was serious.
   Roman looked around at the other four. Two men and two women, dressed in a kind of shabby blue uniform. All of them looked as though they were in their mid thirties and not had their first regeneration yet. If this little rabble could provide a premium service then that doesn’t say much for the other groups.
   Roman was almost resigned to paying the fee when Thorn, Yilnar and Akarn joined them from the Savage Mind. This had a marked effect on the group. They stepped backwards with Bress saying,
   “Oh shit! You’re the...Psychic Knights.”
   The five men looked at each other surprised at being recognised.
   “What makes you think that?” said Thorn quickly.
   Bress pointed at the man mountain that was Akarn. He was at least a foot taller than the other four and almost twice as wide. The short sleeved shirt he was wearing was taught around his large muscular frame and his skin was as black as coal. A description no one could ever forget.
   “I knew it,” said Ifor. “Can’t you shrink yourself a little, big man. You stick out like a sore thumb. No wonder we never have the element of surprise any more.”
   “I’ll shrink when you stop being ugly,” returned Akarn with a smile.
   “That’s not gonna happen,” said Yilnar. “I think he must have upset someone when he was younger and they put an ugly spell on him.”
   “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” began Ifor over the chuckles from his friends. “You should be so lucky to be as good looking as me. Models kill for looks like mine.”
   “Is that Snarn models?” asked Akarn referring to the wrinkled face pig-like race on the world of Snarnash.
   Laughter erupted around the group and the minders faces turned from mild terror to confusion. The gentle banter was at odds with all of the stories they had heard about the fearless Psychic Knights.
   Roman seized the opportunity.
   “Two hundred credits and I won’t set the big man on you. That’s the price I paid the last time I was here.”
   When Bress heard this he felt a little indignant. His anger started to simmer and before he knew it he was speaking.
   “Two hundred and fifty.”
   Roman looked round at his friends with a wry smile. As he looked back at Bress he said,
   “I like your style. I’ll pay the two fifty, but remember, if I find one little scratch on her, think about all the stories you’ve heard about us.”
   He gave the data slate back to him and walked passed the group with his meanest look. The rest of the Knights followed his lead and did the same. When they were out of earshot Akarn said,
   “That was cruel.”
   Roman shrugged his shoulders.
   “What’s the point of having notoriety if you can’t use it once in a while.”
   “Very true, Roman. I totally agree with you. We should use it whenever we can. Maybe we can get free meals once in a while.” Ifor grinned a cheeky smile.
   “OK,” began Thorn. “Where are the targets from here?”
   Yilnar checked the tracker around his wrist. The holographic image that appeared showed a blinking red dot.
   “There’s something wrong. They don’t seem to be moving. Tracker says they’ve been stationary for fifteen minutes and it’s not an area known for its friendly inhabitants.”
   “Where is in this city?” commented Ifor.
   Concern flooded across Thorn’s face. His chiselled looks and pale skin was at odds with the rest of his team. Physically he was of a similar stature, but when the sun touched his skin it rarely went darker than his blonde hair.
   “Change of plan. We pick up the flyer and head for their location. We’ll have to forego the buyers this time.”
   Thorn was meticulous in his planning and any unforeseen changes made him feel uncomfortable. He didn’t like surprises. Not even on his birthday.
   The five of then set off on a run towards the rental station that stood alongside the landing fields. They had pre-booked a flyer on route. Using the magno-bikes was out of the question as they needed space for passengers. Now things had changed, time was of the essence.

   “I don’t like this waiting around,” said Delly. His hearing was just starting to recover and he wasn’t shouting when he spoke.
   “You and me, both,” said Aron. “But I’m not going back out there.”
   There was a noise behind them. It was Harrin. He’d gone to look for other ways out with the rest of the hires guarding the Naturals.
   As he crouched by Aron next to the barred window he let out a long sigh. This didn’t bode well, thought Aron.
   “There’s a door leading out back to an alley that runs between this building and the warehouse behind. Caught sight of two raiders on the roof line. We’d be sitting ducks.”
   “So there’s no way out, then!” said Delly.
   Harrin glared at him. If looks could kill, thought Aron, Delly would have been shredded into pieces by now.
   “If you let me finish.” Harrin looked back at Aron. “There’s a drainage system in the next area. Looks like it’s used for flushing down waste from whatever it is they do here. The access is big enough for a man to fit through.”
   The way Harrin finished the sentence Aron was expecting a but. It didn’t come, so he asked.
   “And what’s wrong with it?”
   Harrin looked up to the ceiling and closed his eyes.
   “I can’t do confined spaces.”
   “What! You’re getting all these credits and you can’t escape almost certain death because of a fear of small spaces.”
   “Delly! Leave it.”
   Delly stopped talking and went and crouched next to Marno at the next window along.
   “Are you serious?” said Aron.
   “Ever since I was a kid. I’ve never gotten over it.”
   Aron looked back out of the window.
   “There’s no way we can fight our way out. Not without knowing their numbers and positions and a detailed map of the area. We have to use the drains.” He turned back to Harrin. “What will you do?”
   Harrin shrugged his shoulders.
   “The building’s big enough. Maybe I’ll find somewhere to hold up until they give up looking. I can give some cover fire to fool them into thinking we’re all still here. Give you time to get away.”
   Aron paused for a while before nodding
    "Where will I reach you if...when you escape?”
   “I’ll contact you,” Harrin replied with a half resignation of his fate etched on his face.
   “Let’s get moving,” Aron said loud enough for everyone to hear. He stood up and unholstered the taser rod strapped to his thigh. “We’ve got an escape route. There’s a drainage system big enough for us to walk through in the next room.” He tasered the first Natural that he came to which shocked him into movement and spurred the others to start walking.
   Harrin led them all to the open drain access he had left.
   “There’s a ladder that leads down about a foot from the edge.”
   Torbin, one of the surviving hired muscles went first. At the bottom he took out his gun and turned on the torch below the barrel and moved the light around.
   “All clear,” he shouted up.
   As Harrin started forcing the Naturals down the drain a cacophony of laser fire sounded outside of the building. Then an explosion as a missile hit the front door. It was sturdy and held, but another hit would see it collapse inwards.
   “Shit! They know we’re on the move,” said Marno. “How the hell did they know?”
   “Who cares,” said Delly. “Let’s hurry up.” He pushed himself to the front of the queue and quickly disappeared down the drain hole.
   “I’ll do what I can to hold them off.”
   Harrin ran back to the window and opened fire.
   “If he survives, hope your not paying him for this.”
   “Shut up, Marno,” said Aron.

   The flyer came in to land two hundred yards from the fire fight just round the corner.
   “How many are we looking at?” said Thorn.
   “Fifteen out front and five out back. Armed with standard lasers with one missile launcher. They’re pretty much bedded in. No way to get to them from behind. The five out back should be easy enough, but the rest will need a little goading to come out.”
   Roman’s description of any situation was always concise and gave Thorn everything he needed to form his plans.
   “How about the Naturals?” he queried. A quick scan with his mind told him they were on the move, but he wasn’t sure how.
   Roman looked back at his portable holo-scanner strapped to his wrist. It had hacked in to the city’s records and downloaded the schematics for the area while on route and was showing the laser signatures from all of the hostiles in the area and where they were.
   “Looks like they’re being moved through the drainage system under the building.”
   “Pinpoint any exits. We’ll keep an eye on them while we deal with what’s on ground level.” It was at that moment that Thorn wished they were in the Savage Mind. A few directed shots from the weapons system would end this confrontation in short measure, but armed vehicles were banned from travelling around the city. Although that didn’t totally stop the use of them. “Everyone up for some hand to hand?”
   The loud ‘Yeah’ and cheers gave Thorn his answer. He smiled. No amount of training back on Prius 3 could match the feeling of real combat and they didn’t get as good as they were by avoiding hand to hand situations.
   “Ifor, do you have the PC?”
   PC was the name for the Electro Magnetic Pulse Cannon, or Pulse Cannon for short. It was designed to fire a small projectile into the air to a height of two hundred metres and then detonate, releasing a magnetic pulse downwards in a radius of a mile. This overloaded any gun power cells rendering them useless until recharged.
   “Set up at the corner of the road. We’ll come and join you when it’s done.”
   Ifor frowned.
   “Why me again?” he whined.
   “Because you lost the last bet we all had and firing the cannon was the forfeit.”
   “Oh yeah,” he remembered.
   Although the pulse wasn’t harmful, it did funny things with your muscles if you were too close to the centre of the explosion. Ifor had heard that if you had a full bladder at the time the pulse would relax your muscles so much that you would piss yourself. He’d never put that to the test.
   “Remind me not to make stupid bets next time,” he said to no one in particular.”
   “Like we’re gonna do that,” laughed Akarn. The craft filled with laughter as Ifor made his way to the exit.
   “That’s friends for ya,” he said to himself with a smile on his face. As he climbed out of the flyer he continued his conversation with himself having to raise his voice over the noise of the continued onslaught on the building. “I knew I should have stopped at that last bet. If I was a suspicious man I would have said I was set up. How the hell could he make that shot. It was one in a million, unless he found a way of rigging the game. But then I...”
   Ifor stopped dead in his tracks as he saw a man suddenly appear from the alley behind the building the Naturals had entered. They both froze. The man looked at the PC slung over Ifor’s left shoulder and the gun holstered to his right thigh. Ifor felt the decision in his mind before he saw what the man was going to do. His holstered gun was in his hand in an instant and the red laser discharge from the nozzle penetrated the man’s body before he could lower his weapon to fire.
   ‘Thanks for the warning, guys,’ he sent.
   ‘Sorry,’ sent back Roman apologetically.
   Ifor jogged to the corner and pressed against the side of the building before peaking round. The door to the building under attack was in splinters and the entrance was exposed. The dust from the peppered walls hung heavy in the air and it filled his nostrils.
   A lone gunman was returning fire from inside, but it was sporadic and pointless.
   Ifor pushed the two foot long weapon to his shoulder and fired the missile up in the air towards the centre of the street. He knew from past experience that he didn’t have enough time to get away so braced himself for the inevitable.
   Two seconds later a pop that could be felt more than heard reached his body and then the disturbance in the air as the magnetic wave spread out could clearly be seen. Then silence as the firing guns failed.
   Disconcerted voices replaced the fizzing of the lasers as the hostiles were confused as to what had happened. Ifor shook himself and grimaced as the uncomfortable effects of the wave passed through him.
   Thorn, Roman, Yilnar and Akarn came jogging up to Ifor. Akarn clapped a big hand on his shoulder which almost dropped him to his knees as his muscles hadn’t fully recovered from the pulse.
   “How’s the muscles?” he asked with a grin on his face.
   “Fine, thank you,” replied Ifor steadying himself.
   “You wait here a while and recover. In the meantime, we’ll try and get them to come out,” said Thorn.
   Ifor leant against the wall and nodded.
   “Don’t take all the fun before I get there.”
   “Then you’d better recover fast,” said Yilnar. “We can’t wait around all day.”
   The four men made off round the corner and into the middle of the street. They walked down to the decimated door and peaked inside. There was no movement. Thorn turned round and faced the building that only moments earlier was expelling a light show of deadly laser bolts.
   “We don’t want any trouble. Just let us be to rescue the captured men and women and we’ll be on our way.”
   During the short silence Thorn thought about all the times he’d been in this situation and gave the same little speech. How many times had the hostiles actually let them be. Zero. That’s how many. Naturals were a very profitable commodity. The hostiles would either be working for a rival buyer or the buyer themselves looking to steal the Naturals rather than pay for them. Either way this usually ended in only one way.
   The large grey door opened at the top of the pale concrete steps. Then another four doors opened along the street on the same side of the road. All fifteen of the hostiles that Roman had pinpointed walked out and down the steps to street level. All dressed in either new or well looked after clothes of synthetic leather. These guys were from the middle streets of the city, but they knew their way around the slum areas.
   Smoke from the charred remains of the splintered door behind Thorn filled the air and clung to the back of the four men’s throats.
   “What have you done to our guns?” came the heavily accented voice of the man directly in front of Thorn. His head was shaven and a scar ran across the top of it, the aforementioned gun still in his hand.
   “Like I said, we don’t want any trouble.”
   “Well you should have thought about that before you interrupted our little party.”
   Thorn saw a change in the man’s expression as his eyes rested on Akarn to Thorn’s right. It was as though he’d seen the big man for the first time.
   ‘Same rules, guys.’ sent Roman to the rest of the Knights. ‘The one with the least amount of take-downs does the next forfeit.’
   ‘Hey, that’s not fair. I’ve not fully recovered yet,’ replied Ifor.
   ‘Then you’d better hurry up. We haven’t got all day,’
   ‘I’m on my way, I’m on my way,’
   “I hope you’ve made your wills for your loved ones,” said the man with the scar. “Get ‘em!”
   The four Knights spread out giving themselves room to move and in so doing split the advancing men into four groups. One group of six charged Akarn who crunched his fist into the first to get to him leaving a fist-sized indent in the middle of his face. The group wasn’t expecting such speed from the big man. It slowed their advance as they were more wary now.
   The leader was joined by two of his men to take on Thorn. A swift front kick to the man’s gut doubled him up. As Thorn pulled his leg back and briefly planted it down on the ground he immediately threw out a spinning back kick breaking the jaw of the man to the right of the leader.
   The third man halted his attack and looked around for a weapon. He found a broken roll bar from the vehicle that took a missile and wielded it with a grin on his face; dirty yellow teeth showing.
   Yilnar and Roman were having similar success with just the one attacker each remaining. Ifor was being held up. As he made his way to the brawl the five men that had positioned themselves around the back appeared from the alleyway. They surrounded him, two of them with thick chains that they had picked up from the alley. As he looked at each one in turn he couldn’t help but notice how ugly they were. Each with a disfiguring injury that altered their already hideous features.
   Normally Ifor would take this situation in his stride, but he was still feeling the after effects of the Magnetic Pulse. The effectiveness of his strikes would be compromised.
   The first warning came from behind. His mind picked up the actions about to be carried out and he ducked low to avoid the chain swung at his head. What happened next Ifor didn’t know whether to put down to stupidity or bad luck, but the chain carried on round and struck one of the attackers fully in the face knocking him out cold. It gave him precious seconds of recovery time as the other four looked on stunned at what happened.
   The man holding the chain looked down apologetically and the other three backed away a little out of his reach.
   ‘Amateurs!’ thought Ifor.
   He manoeuvred himself into the gap left by the fallen man and stepped over his body. He was beginning to feel a lot better and even managed to bounce around a little, which helped as the man to his left lunged in with a right hook. Ifor fleet footed back a little to avoid the grubby fist and as the man’s arm returned to a ready position for the next attack Ifor was already upon him.
   As the man’s arms were up Ifor went down low and landed a straight punch to his gut. The man doubled over. As Ifor pulled back a second attacker came in with a stomping kick to Ifor’s belly. Ifor’s punching arm swung down and under the leg and guided it away at the same time as lifting it up which took the man off of the ground and onto his back. Ifor jumped up and stomped down hard on his chest caving in his ribs. As Ifor bounced off the fallen man he finished the winded man with a round house kick to the temple knocking him out.
   Akarn had just finished his third attacker by throwing him against the overturned transporter piercing his body on the mangled wreckage. He turned to face the other three, a smile on his face. They could clearly see he was enjoying himself which, combined with the aggressive way he had terminated their friends, drained all desire of continuing the fight. They turned and ran away.
   “What!” exclaimed Akarn. “You’re running away!”
   ‘Must be...your ugly face that scared...them off,’ joked Yilnar as he swept low to topple over his last opponent before dropping an axe kick onto his chest, cracking bone in the process.
   As Akarn turned round to see who was left he spotted Ifor at the end of the road with two attackers left. He bulldozed his way towards him. Ifor felt what he was going to do in his mind.
   ‘Stay away big man. These are mine.’
   ‘I can see you need a little help,’ returned Akarn as he steamrollered into the back of the man with the chain.
   He went sprawling along the road, the chain falling from his grasp and into the gutter.
   A rain of blows descended down on Ifor who was a little distracted from Akarn’s interruption. It put him on the back foot and it took all his concentration to get back the upper hand, which came with a nifty sidestep and duck to leave his attacker facing away from him and a little off balance.
   “Come on. I’ll give you a chance to pick up your chain,” said Akarn to his foe.
   The man, a little stunned, took the offer up and grabbed the end of the chain swinging it at Akarn as he rose. Akarn stuck out his thick forearm and the chain wrapped round it like a snake on a tree trunk. He pulled and it came free from the man’s grasp. Akarn unwrapped the chain from his arm and grabbed each end with his hands. Using his massive power he pulled the ends and slowly the chain links began to separate.
   As the thick links snapped the man thought twice about continuing and turned and ran.
   “Nooo! Not you as well!” cried Akarn.
   Ifor gave a sharp twist to the last attackers head and let him drop to the ground. As he dropped, Ifor noticed a wet patch in the man’s groin area.
   ‘Oh! Maybe it is true,’ he thought to himself. He turned to his friend.
   “You need to stop showing off your strength, big man. It just scares them away.”
   Akarn looked down, dejected while Ifor checked back up the street to see the last man fall from Roman’s boot. They both made their way towards their friends.
   As they approached Roman was checking his wrist scanner, concern on his face.
   “We’ve got a problem, guys. Looks like the Magnetic Pulse didn’t penetrate below ground. The hostiles with the Naturals have fully working weapons.”
   Thorn frowned.
   “Why is nothing ever simple?” questioned Ifor.
   After a moment of silence Thorn said,
   “Where’s the most likely exit point for them?”
   “They’re coming up to the drain for the next building two hundred metres away,” said Roman.
   “OK. Lets get access to that building. We’ll wait until they’re all up and then confront them.”
   “With what?” asked Akarn. “I haven’t quite managed to shoot lasers from my fingers yet.”
   The group smiled at his quip and Thorn looked over to him.
   “We don’t need lasers. Just our brains. Come on. Let’s go.”

   The drain cover lifted and clanged over, the sound echoing around the empty room. Marno led the Naturals up and pushed them over to one side of the large expanse. The damp clawed at his throat and he began to cough, as did most of the Naturals as they appeared from the open drain. The coughing lasted just a few seconds as their bodies adjusted to the clammy environment.
   Aron was the last to appear and he jogged over to the nearest boarded window at the front of the building. Jamming his fingers in the gap between the wall and edge of the board, he levered it away slightly to look down the street from where they had come from.
   “Shit! He’s only gone and done it.”
   Marno came running over.
   “What?”
   “Take a look.”
   Marno replaced Aron at the window and was just as amazed at the sight as his brother.
   “No way! Where did you find him? Is he some kind of superhuman?”
   “We have to go and find him. I think the doors in the next room. Delly! Go next door and get the door open.”
   Delly marched further back down the warehouse and through the adjoining door to the next room while Aron and Marno rejoined the group. He wasn’t gone long.
   Delly came back through the door, Akarn’s massive arm wrapped under his chin and Delly’s own gun pointed at his head. The rest of the Knights followed.
   “I suggest you let the Naturals go if you want your cousin to keep his brains in his skull.”
   “What the...!” Aron blurted out. “Who the hell are you?”
   “That’s not important,” replied Thorn. “What is important is that you let these men and women go.”
   Aron looked at the five men standing in the way of the biggest pay day of his life and a rage welled up inside. He grabbed one of the Naturals, a skinny, middle-aged woman, and drew his gun to her head. Marno and the three hired thugs followed suite and a cacophony of screams filled the air. When it died down Aron spoke.
   “I suggest you let my brother go or your love for these sad excuses for human beings will see their lives shortened significantly.” A sickly grin spread across his face as he knew he had the upper hand. He’d noticed these bastards only had one weapon between them.
   “Well, it looks like we have ourselves an old fashioned stand off. OK, boys. Let’s do our thing,” said Thorn
   The five Knights closed their eyes to the confusion of Aron and his partners. He was just about to turn his gun on them and shoot the big man in his head when the power cell from his gun unclipped and dropped to the floor. The same thing happened to the other four and they looked at their guns in surprise. The distraction was fatal as the Psychic Knights covered the ground between them in seconds. Then five seconds after that Aron and his fellow human traffickers were dead.
   “Looks like there’s three joint losers in this round,” said Ifor.
   “How’d you work that out?” Roman was just pushing his victim off of his foot.
   “Me and the big man took out five and the rest of you took out four that makes you guys the joint losers.”
   “I think you’ll find that one of yours was taken out by his own man,” pointed out Yilnar.
   “But it was in the process of attacking me and because I avoided the attack it caused the said attack to be turned on the attackers own man so it should count.”
   “Hang on a minute,” said Roman. “That’s stretching the rules a bit.”
   “Not at all. Just applying logic,” said Ifor in mock seriousness.
   The discussion continued most of the way back to Prius 3 where the outcome of a Prius beetle race would make the final decision.
   “What was it Ifor was saying about him and stupid bets,” said Roman with a big grin on his face.
   The rest of the Knights joined him as they watched Ifor cheering on his beetle.

The End.