amadhay: (Default)
 in which amadhay isn’t saved



“I wasn’t expecting to see you so soon,” Atlas said to Amadhay, smiling up at her from his low couch.

Without looking from her, he gestured for Scarlet and Mitch to go. Both paused, but seeing that Stefan stood directly behind Amadhay, they nodded to Atlas and left the room.

Amadhay didn’t smile back at him, which he had expected. “Who is your informant?” she demanded.

“What?” he asked, genuinely surprised at the road this conversation was taking. He had been ready for most options such as ‘Where am I?’, ‘Why am I here?’, ‘I remember you,’ or even ‘You kidnapped me before,’ but not this one. He glanced to Stefan for illumination, but the snake-like man merely shrugged. He didn’t seem nearly as surprised as Atlas was, though to be fair, Stefan had implied that sending him in was a bad plan to begin with.

“Your informant, Atlas,” she reiterated. “What you know is informant information. You wouldn’t be able to know as much as you do without an informant that is close to me. You know things only my friends would be able to know, only my best of friends. So I want to know who is giving you information.”

Atlas gave a soft laugh and shook his head at Amadhay. “Of course I have an informant. But why on Resor would you think I would tell you his name?”

“So it’s a male?” Amadhay raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms over her chest. “Of course it’s a male. Rea is the only female and she wouldn’t sell information on me for anything.”

Atlas narrowed his eyes, not liking the look in hers. “Have you figured out your little puzzle?” he asked, trying to distract her.

She gave him a vague questioning sound. “Which one?”

“All those questions you were asking me yesterday. Why you, why I have you here, why now?”

Amadhay shrugged as if she honestly didn’t care, which threw Atlas for a moment until he realized what she was doing. She was feigning disinterest so that he would feel the need to give her information. He opened his mouth to do just that, but she beat him to it.

“Tairyn. Tairyn is your informant, isn’t he?” she nodded to herself. “He’s been away for a while, so getting me to bring your assets in was necessary to learn the grounds. You didn’t just wander to my room, you wandered to figure out where everything was. You knew that I would hurt the cyborg, or maybe you made sure that I would, so that she would go to the hospital wing, which is close to the Procedures, which is where we keep all of our files.

“Tairyn would know that, because he worked there before he was sent on an Over the Water mission. Tairyn was my best friend and the only one besides Christein, Indigo and pre-amnesia Amaya who I told about the dragon and canopy dream. Amaya has lost her memory and even before didn’t know me nearly well enough to tell you everything. Monkey and Indy would die before either set me up. It’s Tairyn.”

Atlas honestly couldn’t help but to stare at her in surprise. He was amazed by the tracks her mind went to figure out a question she should not have been able to guess the answer to, not that quickly. She couldn’t have been thinking about this for longer than she had been awake. He wondered what gave it away first, them putting her back in the remade bedroom from her childhood, or Stefan coming to her. He had wanted to refresh her memory, not out his informant.

He smiled at her either way. “That would be a great deduction, Amadhay, if your dream were only a dream. I thought you would have realized that by now. You’ve been here before. You know us.”

She frowned. “I think I would remember being somewhere this cold,” she stated.

Atlas raised his eyebrow. “Don’t you? What are those dreams then?”

“Nothing but dreams,” she replied firmly, looking away from him. She glanced back at Stefan, who had his arms crossed over his chest in a warning to her that she was being watched.

Atlas leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees. “Were they? Then how do we know about all your games pretending to save the princess and defeat the dragon? Hm? What about your food patterns or the juice? I doubt any of your current friends could tell us that.”

“Then you have Indigo too. I was wondering who made the golems,” she said.

Atlas didn’t change his expression, though he did mentally pause and eye her more closely. He had known she was intelligent, probably the second most intelligent of the Hakinato first family, and a quick thinker, but hadn’t expected this kind of quick thinking. She was right, though not for the reasons she thought, since he had made sure Ribbon made the golems to keep Amadhay from recognizing her former servant’s magic. Regardless, she was very right on all accounts except one. He needed to press that one to make her doubt her other ideas.

 “Amadhay, you know you were here before. You remember it.” She shook her head, but there was a hesitance to it that he jumped on. “On your fourth birthday, the day of your party, Mitch and Stefan took you and your sister and brought you here. We entertained you for two months before we gave you back.”

Alright, he was lying a little. They hadn’t brought her here specifically, because this place hadn't existed eleven years ago. It would have been insane to take her back to the other place, because that was the first place Riffle would look. And no, they hadn't given them back, but had been outmatched by the Phoegani, though things had certainly changed since then. If the ease with which they had infiltrated the Phoegani and taken what they wanted was any indication, either they were much stronger than they had been (which was a given), or the Phoegani was greatly lacking (which he was thinking might also be the case).

She frowned, staring at him. He could see her going over the memories she had thought to only be dreams. She looked around the room, which was a perfect duplicate to the planning room in the other safe base that she would have recognized. She quickly took in every detail, moving faster than he could see so that she was almost a blur of motion. Honestly, he was a little surprised that she didn't attempt to attack him. Maybe Stefan was a good enough incentive, if she remembered enough about him to know how easily he would take her down.

“Why?” she finally asked, now standing directly in front of him. Stefan didn't move forward, though he did uncross his arms.

Atlas raised both eyebrows. “Why what?”

“Why did you kidnap us?” she asked. He couldn't begin to pretend that he knew what was going through her mind, but he assumed that she was thinking the same reason then was the same reason he did it now. It wasn't.

“To give your parents a message.”

She frowned. “What kind of message could you want to give the second brother of a clan and the somewhat powerless sister of the Lady of the Lake that wouldn't be better suited for their siblings?”

Atlas almost laughed. She didn't know. “Or should I say it was for Arne Riffle. He, after all, claimed you, which made you a prize. Both of you.”

“What about Hlala? She was claimed too. Why didn't you take all three of us? I'm sure you could have gotten whatever you wanted better that way.”

“We didn't need her. We only needed the two of you. The point was made perfectly then, just like a new point is being made now.”

She gave him a sharp smile. “So you kidnapped me to give Arne Riff a new message? What happened to trying to give me a new life?”

“Oh, I'm going to give you a better life. The message to Riffle has nothing to do with you. You weren't the point of this, but taking you does make everything much easier to manage. Now they'll be so focused on saving you that no one will notice anything else that may be missing.” He gave her a haughty grin. “Not that it really matters either way.”

She narrowed her eyes, taking a few steps back until she was back against Stefan. “I agree,” she said sweetly.

She looked up at Stefan with an innocent twinkle in her eye that he fell for. Atlas knew what she was about to do the moment he saw the relaxing in Stefan's posture. He had to smile when she took Stefan's moment of softness toward her to steal his gun from his belt. She shot Stefan twice, once in the throat and the second time directly between his eyes, before spinning and shooting Atlas in the chest. He felt the pain, there was no denying it, but he couldn't stop smiling at her. That was the Amadhay he expected.

“It doesn't matter because I don't need to be saved. I'm going to get out of here with whatever you took from us. It may not be today, but it will happen. And when it does, you won't be smiling,” she promised even as she watched the powder in the bullet sizzle and bubble out of the bullet hole before the hole closed around the bullet. He hissed as the bullet disintegrated inside of his body, but held his hand out to Stefan, who was reaching for Amadhay.

Amadhay didn't move, studying the hole in his shirt as if she could still see the bullet wound. “What good was that, Amadhay?” he asked her, straightening up and touching the hole, before giving a sigh. “Now you've upset Stefan, ruined my favorite shirt, and wasted three good bullets.”

“Go drown in the Water,” she cursed him, but still didn't move.

He sighed. “Stefan, take her back to her room until she can be trusted to play with others.”

Next Chapter
amadhay: (Default)
 in which Christein deserved it



“What is going on?” Christein demanded, gripping the arm of a new, young member as a loud sound of an explosion came from the medical bay.

“Someone is destroying the med bay!” the red haired girl squeaked. She quivered, frightened out of her mind and he gave her arm a hard squeeze to get her attention.

“Is anyone down there?”

“Rea for sure, but I was the only one there with her when the woman started attacking.” She flinched, glancing back toward the medical wings as another loud boom came from that direction.

Christein’s eyes narrowed. “You abandoned her?”

“She told me to!” she squealed. “She told me to go find Red Robin. To tell her that her cyborg woke up.”

Christein nodded and let go of the girl. “Good. Go find her then. Get Ghost Sparrow too.”

The moment he was no longer holding her, she ran off like a frightened rabbit, which irritated him. She would be useless to them if she panicked at the first sign of danger. He mentally made note to look into her training.

But not this moment.

He continued to di Carlime’s medical wing, taking care to be as silent as possible so that he didn’t give away his position until he was ready. He could still hear the sounds that, now that he knew it was a cyborg, could associate with lasers. That was a good sign. If the cyborg had already killed di Carlime, there would be no reason for her to continue wasting energy shooting with no target. Reaching for his pistol holster, he became aware that he had come into a cyborg-dragon fight without his own weapons. That was incredibly stupid.

Cursing himself, he began to retreat, but didn’t make it far when the sound of a laser boomed right next to him and the wall crumbled. Luckily, he was able to dodge out of the way and wasn’t hurt. Unfortunately, he was now out in the open and the cyborg was standing right on the other side of the debris.

He stayed still as she moved through the hole of the wall, watching her as she strode forward. She almost passed right by him, but for some reason her attention jerked from her intended path down the hallway and to him.

“Hakinato,” she spat, focusing on him.

Weaponless, he couldn’t think of anything to do but kick at her, so he did. The moment his foot made contact with her body, pain blossomed. The metal grafts cyborgs used in place of skin were, without any doubt, superior to his fleshy foot, even when covered by his thick soled, metal-toed boots.

She scoffed, grabbing him by the throat and pulling him up from the ground. “I’m not supposed to kill anyone, but I’m sure Atlas will make an exception for one of the Hakinato’s,” she mused, a cruel smirk on her lips.

He listened as her lasers warmed up. A standard cyborg laser modification took four clicks to warm up. One click. Two clicks. Three clicks. Fo—the cyborg was hit from behind and dropped Christein, turning her laser at the last click to a new target. She missed. Instead, di Carlime came rushing at her, fire blowing from her mouth even as she ran forward.

Christein watched the cyborg move almost as fast as Amadhay could when using her Gift, but even that wasn’t fast enough to avoid the dragon’s fire when it was going as wide as it was. Christein thought he was lucky not to be hit by the fire, himself. While the cyborg was busy fighting di Carlime, Christein made it back to his feet and backed away from the fight. There was nothing he could do, pistol-less and taser-less. He had loaned Amadhay his taser earlier and now was regretting doing that without knowing when and where she was going to drop the Palnokian cyborg. All of this could have been avoided if Amadhay had followed proper procedure for capture of more powerful people, especially when said person was Atlas Palnoki’s own bodyguard.

Speaking of Amadhay, Christein thought, where on Resor is she? The scared girl had run off to find her nearly five clacks ago, definitely enough time for Amadhay to have heard that something was going on down here and come to check it out. This was her specialty, taking down more difficult creatures that were altered from natural in some way. She was good at taking them apart, most likely from all the time she spent with Ben and di Carlime. For that matter, where was Ben? He would have been just as good as Amadhay in this situation, having more knowledge from his extended life than most of the rest of the Phoegani put together (with the possible exception of Darach. Darach probably knew more than Ben).

Regardless, neither of them were there to back him up, so he needed to think up a game plan because di Carlime was running out of air. He could see it, and if he could see it, he was sure the cyborg could too. The moment di Carlime was out of breath, she’d stop spewing fire, and the moment that happened, she would be at the mercy of the cyborg. If the cyborg took out di Carlime, he could be sure that he was a dead man.

He looked around him for something to use against the cyborg, but only saw debris of the walls and medical supplies like bandages, gauze, and syringes. None of those would help him, he decided, though he did linger on the syringes. He assumed that somewhere on the cyborg, she had normal skin instead of metal grafts covered by fake flesh. All cyborgs did; he assumed it reminded them of a time when they weren’t more machine than Goddess-bodied creatures. It didn’t matter, though, because not only would it be a guessing game trying to determine where her skin was real flesh, but he had to find something to put into the syringe and he didn’t like his odds. Christein felt that he had no other choice. He ran at the cyborg, expecting that the surprise attack would work best.

He was right. He slammed into the cyborg just in time, because di Carlime finally had to take a breath, and the cyborg had been so focused on the dragon that she hadn’t been expecting him to knock her down. But he did. The force of his body slamming into hers made them fall into the debris of the wall.

There was one problem though: Christein was on fire. Even though he knew that he would regenerate, the fact the he was on fire was an all-consuming thought. He writhed on top of the cyborg, who was trying to push him off, but for every inch she gained from him, his struggles kept her down. The fire was burning his flesh, but it was only burning her clothes and hair until finally, she tossed him off of her and he was able to roll to extinguish the flames.

“Did you really think that would hurt me?” she taunted, getting to her feet.

“Not,” he panted, “Really.” His body was already growing new skin to replace the burned one.

“Then what did you really think that would accomplish?” the cyborg demanded.

“This,” the seemingly forgotten di Carlime stated before jamming a syringe into the cyborg’s exposed real flesh side, where there were slight burns. She emptied the liquid into her body. Almost immediately, the red-haired woman began to seize, falling back down to her knees and then to her face. She shook for a few clicks before all movement ceased.

Christein sat up slowly, wincing at the tightness of his new skin. “Is she down?” he asked.

“She should be. I just put enough tranquilizers in her to take down a Feral six times her size,” di Carlime responded blandly, her eyes already moving to discern the damage done to her wing. “Where is Amadhay?”

“I don’t know,” Christein immediately responded, which was his automatic response to that question. At the look the dragon gave him, a look that said she would rip him a new one if he didn’t answer her seriously, he held his hands up. “I honestly don’t know. Last I heard from her, she was going after her,” he jerked his thumb at the fallen woman. “That was zoots ago.”

“I don’t like this,” di Carlime muttered, eyeing the body thoughtfully.

Christein snickered disdainfully. “What is there to like? Your wing is trashed. We have a drugged, incredibly dangerous cyborg out for only Goddess knows how long. And who knows where Ben or Amadhay are. They should have been here if they were on base, but obviously they aren’t.”

“Well I don’t know how true all that is,” a male voice drawled from behind him. By the time Christein had turned full circle, di Carlime was being tasered. He watched her go down before looking to the man who had done it.

He was obviously a dead-vampire, if his iris-less, black eyes and the blood drying on the side of his mouth were anything to go by. The blonde hair and high-crowned hat fit the description Ben had given of the vampire Amadhay was supposed to be bringing in. For the moment they stared at each other, Christein couldn’t help but to wonder if any of the captives Amadhay had brought in today had been properly detained. He was going to guess not.

“How’s that reboot going, Scarlet?” the vampire asked, looking to the cyborg but not making a move toward Christein. Christein didn’t make any moves either. He knew when he was outclassed. He had no weapons on him and his body was already hurting from its last healing. Even at his peak and with his pistol, he doubted he would have been a match for a dead-vampire, especially one who had recently eaten.

“Slow,” the cyborg slurred.

“Are you going to need help getting up or is it going faster than that? Atlas just called us all in to the gate.”

“Di’n’t get whad I needed,” she muttered.

“Then what the Water were you doing? Playing peek-a-boo?” the vampire demanded in irritation. “I’ll have Tenshu grab it on his way out.”

Grab what? Christein thought. He started to back away, thinking that the attention was off of him enough that he might be able to get out.

“Tsk, tsk. Where do you think you’re going?” the vampire asked Christein, turning his unsettling, large-pupiled eyes back to him. He playfully squeezed the taser, making it light up menacingly. “I still have plans for you.”

Next Chapter

amadhay: (Default)
 in which rea trusts amadhay



Rea gave Amadhay a long look when the teenager dropped a woman on one of her empty tables.

A quick scan of the woman told her that there was a severely bleeding wound on the lower abdomen, a burn on her side, and if she wasn’t mistaken (and she never was) a majority of robotic, cybernetic parts to shield her from major harm. She was still bleeding out, but Rea couldn’t hear any breathing.

“You know I don’t deal with dead people,” she stated, which technically wasn’t true. She simply didn’t deal with Amadhay’s dead people. The state the younger girl tended to bring her targets in had proven to be too much for her stomach and so they went to her boss, Stasen. She gestured for Amadhay to deal with the body before turning back to the redhead sitting casually on another one of the five tables in her sickbay.

“She’s not dead,” Amadhay whined, moving as close to Rea as she ever dared without express permission. “She’s just a little stunned and bleeding a bit. I need you to fix her up so no one will ever know.”

That caught Rea’s attention from the redhead, who was much too focused on Amadhay and the cyborg. “You’re done here,” she told the woman before her.

“But my leg—”

“Is slightly burned. Put some salve on it. You can get that from Karmen at the front desk. Out.” The girl started to argue again, but her eyes shot to Amadhay, who Rea couldn’t see, but knew well enough to assume was making some sort of threatening gesture.

The redhead paled, looking from Amadhay to Rea and back. Rea raised one silver eyebrow and the girl hopped off of the table, wincing when she landed on the injured leg that was quite a bit more than a little burned. Rea mentally made note to call her back later to properly fix the burn. The salve would just give her a little time before the burn spread and infected the rest of her body. Eight zoots. She had eight zoots to fix her before that.

“Oh, and Daina,” Rea called before the girl could leave the room. “You shouldn’t tell anyone about this.”

The girl nodded enthusiastically, glancing at Amadhay. She physically flinched before rushing out.

Now that they were alone, Rea turned back to Amadhay. She noted that she could taste pain coming from the girl’s torso and didn’t say anything about it, instead, handing the girl her personalized salve. Amadhay gave her a thankful smile, lifting up her shirt to reveal a few bruises, a burn, and most importantly, a few of broken ribs that looked as though they had been stepped on. While Amadhay rubbed the salve on her, Rea allowed her magic to reach out and repair the damage the salve wouldn’t, namely the broken ribs and the fractures in the hand and wrist the girl was using the rub the salve on.

“Explain,” Rhea ordered, moving to closer examine the body on her table. She had been right. The body was covered in mech parts, except for right at the front, from her abdomen down to her belly button, and about the same spots on either side. The wound was bleeding less now that she was on the table, which was a definite plus to the technology upgrade the medical rooms had gained a month ago. The burn was bad, but obviously from a taser and while it would hurt, wouldn’t actually do lasting or spreading damage.

“I’m on a pretty big, kind of high-profile mission right now,” Amadhay began as she pulled her shirt back down, and moved to Rhea’s side. The irritated growl from the back of the dragon’s throat was to tell her that she was wasting time by blowing her own smoke, and the girl cleared her throat. “I have Lord Palnoki here. I have also rounded up his necromancer and this is his cyborg. They’re all supposed to be in good condition for some reason, but obviously, she isn't. So I’m begging you to fix her up and make her good as new so no one will know but us that I didn’t bring her in whole.”

Rea didn’t smile, but she did note that it was amusing how Amadhay avoided explaining so much as she gave more questions than answers. How had she rounded the Lord Palnoki up when agents of far more prestige, seniority, and ability had died trying? Why was she rounding up Palnoki members when they already had the Lord Palnoki? Surely he was enough. On whose orders was she doing all this and why was she doing it alone? After Madra, wasn’t she strictly on low-profile, partnered missions of little importance? Why, on Resor would they want the Palnokians in good health? The necromancer had been known to single-handedly kill an entire boat of top-tier slavers with only a single blade and no magic, all to save one little girl. The cyborg was practically the Lord Palnoki’s bodyguard. She had destroyed the last group sent to take him out before they had even been able to see him.

So why was Amadhay bringing them here? Why wasn’t she asking these questions? The girl was notoriously curious, so much so that Arne Riffle had regularly sent her here to be patched up when she was younger, before she learned to be silently and secretively curious. If nothing else, that was suspicious. Did she know more than she was telling? A long look at Amadhay, where the girl only shifted from side-to-side, looking nervous didn’t tell Rea anything other than she was nervous. Nervous about what?

Since Madra, there were a lot of accusations tossed at Amadhay. The one that Rea had always disbelieved the most was that the teenager was working for someone else to undermine the Phoegani. The people who said that hadn’t seen Amadhay’s body when she came back, hadn’t seen the way she had become less sure of herself or knew that she was in here more often in the recent weeks from attempting spells higher than her ability. No, Rea had been sure that Amadhay had been taken advantage of and bested by someone, or many someones, in Madra. But now, this strangeness was making her rethink that. She considered calling in Arne Riffle or Punishment to ask either man any number of those questions, but she didn’t.

She decided to trust Amadhay. After all, the girl was her friend.

Next Chapter

amadhay: (Default)
 in which Johannes is difficult



As it turned out, sneaking in had actually been the easier part of the plan, Amadhay begrudgingly acknowledged, ducking out of sight, and behind a dresser.

Atlas hadn’t been joking when he had said that Borg Queen would be difficult to take in. The sound of a laser warming up was the only warning she got that her hiding place was not secure.

She jumped from behind the dresser, to the other side of the room, tucking her legs under and rolling over the dirty carpet to get behind an overturned table just in time before a ray of destruction slammed into the dresser, turning it into splinters. Listening carefully, she waited for the cyborg to enter the room. Once she entered, Amadhay would have the advantage. It took twelve precise clicks for the cyborg’s laser to reboot and four for it to warm up. In sixteen clicks, Amadhay could take her.

She hoped.

A heavy step told her that it was her move. She used her Gift to speed up her jump over the table and run to the cyborg, and was almost to her when she stumbled back. Borg Queen’s eyes were tracking her as if she were moving at an average speed. Amadhay braced her body to fall back, but before she could, Borg Queen’s arm flashed forward and grabbed her by the front of her shirt, pulling her to her. Amadhay already knew that she was in a bad position, considering she couldn’t get out of the cyborg’s grip as she had before. She had already lost her favorite jacket to the cyborg when the woman had grabbed her the first time. Her gun had been lost already, dropped around the same time Amadhay lost her jacket. Sloppy, but considering how things had been going so far, she wasn’t going to beat herself up too much about it.

Amadhay gasped and, on instinct, kicked at Borg Queen, even though the woman had been proving pretty impervious to her physical attacks since she had sneaked into the fortress five clacks previous. Five clacks and Amadhay had spent a majority of them running and hiding. That was not her normal game plan, but the cyborg had almost been ready for her when she’d managed to get in.

Amadhay had sneaked in as silently as possible, her sneak boots silent against the tile floor of the building, and almost immediately, had run directly into the cyborg. The woman hadn’t said anything, merely focused on the red phoenix emblazoned on Amadhay’s mask before her arm had changed from arm and hand to the open barrel of a laser.

Amadhay had kicked at her, but barely had any response, as if the cyborg were a pile of bricks and she was only a small rock trying to move it. It had been that way every time she did that. The one time the aelfe had tried to punch the cyborg, she had been positive that she’d broken her hand and run away as fast as she could.

But something was different this time. This time, when Amadhay’s feet landed the kick on Borg Queen’s stomach, there was real, soft, flesh. Borg Queen cried out, dropping Amadhay in favor of holding her stomach and Amadhay landed on her bottom on the floor before the cyborg. For a moment, the teenager stared in mute surprise, having definitely not expected that reaction. Then, though, she smirked, realizing that she finally found Borg Queen’s real weakness.

Yes, Borg Queen was faster than the average person. Yes, Borg Queen had cybernetic parts that were magic resistant and quite a bit stronger than Amadhay. Yes, Borg Queen was able to track her movements. But now Amadhay had a foothold in the situation. She knew that Borg Queen’s laser was incredibly dangerous and could destroy her as easily close-up as far away, but she also knew that the cyborgs aim was shaky on a moving target, that it took four clicks to warm up, and took twelve clicks to reboot. Not to mention, it made a horrendous sound. She knew that Borg Queen was incredibly magic-resistant and had skin grafts so hard that it was like punching metal, but she now knew that there were some spots that were vulnerable, a few spots that were still sensitive, almost-human, skin.

Borg Queen was watching her warily now, the laser attached to her arm aimed at Amadhay’s head. Amadhay smiled, standing up straight and raising her hands up in surrender. When the cyborg faltered, her laser going out of focus, Amadhay launched herself at the woman. Grabbing her arm, she turned it away from herself, aiming at the wall and squeezing the arm to force Borg Queen to accidentally shoot her laser, which she did. Once that was done and she knew she had sixteen clicks, Amadhay landed the first punch before she could be hit. She knew at this close of a distance, that any hit was likely to do her serious damage with only the least amount of effort on the cyborg’s part.

She tried to kick Borg Queen stomach again, but the woman saw it coming, grabbing Amadhay’s ankle and twisting. To avoid having her ankle broken, the girl twisted with it, ending with her leg high up in the air. Borg Queen started to say something for the first time their entire encounter, but Amadhay recognized that the woman was distracted by her flexibility and took advantage of that, slipping one of the blades out of her wrist binding to stab the cyborg in the stomach.

Immediately, Borg Queen dropped Amadhay’s ankle, which the girl didn’t take gracefully. She nearly fell, but caught herself just as she was going down, landing instead in a kneel before the injured woman. Borg Queen was breathing hard as she removed the knife from what Amadhay assumed must have been her real flesh. The blade was stained with the same red blood that also seeped from the wound, drenching the cyborg’s white top. Borg Queen groaned softly, dropping the knife. She aimed her laser at Amadhay again, but this time, without any help from Amadhay, the aim went wide, blasting another hole in the wall to the left of Amadhay. Recognizing this as her chance, Amadhay grabbed the cyborg taser from the holster on her thigh and slammed it into the woman’s side.

For a moment, Borg Queen kept eye contact with her and put both hands on Amadhay’s shoulders, squeezing them hard enough that the girl was sure they were going to dislocate. For that brief moment, Amadhay feared that she wouldn’t be able to stun the woman into unconsciousness, but then Borg Queen’s grip loosened. When the cyborg fell back, Amadhay slipped the taser back into its holster and took a deep breath to steady herself. She pressed the woman’s side with the toe of her boot and when she didn’t move, Amadhay relaxed the slightest bit.

“One down,” she muttered, pulling the woman up enough for her to teleport with her. She was thankful that she wasn’t as heavy as expected, given her robotic parts, because it would be crazy to leave her, even for a click, to go get someone strong enough to actually carry her to teleport. With the luck she’d had today, Johannes would be gone by the time she got back and then she’d be in even larger trouble. “One more to go.”

Next Chapter


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