Antares stood behind the Beasts’ backs at a safe distance, and the rest formed a semicircle. He aimed the shotgun barrel at the scratched door on the opposite side. He was holding his breath until the mechanism scraped, and the gate began to slide. At that moment, thirty Unions ran inside, struggling and pushing their way between the door leaves.

  “Fire, Zetherionian!” roared Jangalee and pulled the trigger of Rudra.

  The deep burr of the Kehrian rifles split the Celestian’s ears. He clenched his teeth and joined the execution. His old, primitive weapon shot way slower than the Rakshasas’ rifles, therefore he took down only two enemies. His concentration was broken by the battle cry, boring through the shot clunks:

  “Myrskyyn, tuleen!”

  A plasma axe flashed in front of the Celestian’s eyes, flying in the direction of his head. He tensed his muscles, preparing to duck down but before he even started to bend his leg, the weapon dug right into the Union’s head. The enemy’s skull exploded under the influence of the intense heat, splashing around the smoking, almost cooked, parts of brain and bone. Suddenly, like a tropical storm, the cannonade died away.

  “Kalma!” yelled Antares, “you could have killed me!”

  “Perkele!” hissed the Celestian, standing in the doorway, with almost a caricatural expression of surprise.

  The fair-skinned warrior slipped the second axe on his belt and marched ahead. Flowing from his arms, the dirty-white cloak gave an impression of lightness, contrasting with his simple, matt grey armour with silvery fur and carved runes decorating it. Wooden talisman with two parallel lines carved on it dangled from his muscular neck. On his cheeks, he had drawn the same symbols with coal. The black colouring, smeared under his sky-blue eyes, emphasised the looks of the vigilant and wild Celestian, which made him resemble the Talvi beasts of prey, living in the cold. His waist-long, straw-yellow hair bounced with his every brisk step like spikes of ripe grain.

  He halted in front of Antares, who was a head shorter than him, and crossed his thick arms covered in loose sleeves. Twisting his lips slightly, he bared his teeth and raised his eyebrow which was pierced with a silver ring.

  “To you,” he looked down at Antares, “Einherjer Jouni Kalma of The Owl Regiment under the command of Jarl Vindold.”

  “To you,” Antares snapped back, “General Charon Antares, Commander of the Independent Zetherion Army.”

  “General? So quickly? When I saw you last time, they called you hey, kiddo!”

  Antares smiled disdainfully, “You see how old you are?”

  “So many rebels in the galaxy,” Jouni dropped his arms, “and I had to cross paths with you.”

  “I trail behind you like a pest,” Antares mocked in a raspy growl.

  “Against which there’s no pesticide.”

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  Without waiting for a comeback, Jouni embraced his old comrade. Antares returned the hug, even though he could barely breathe under the pressure of the firm arms. The smell of wet fur around Jouni’s neck prickled his nostrils, but he was not going to let go of one of the few allies that he could call a real friend.

  The Celestians moved away and halted next to the ten Rakshasas together aiming at the group of Unions. The enemies stood still with their hands raised. Around them on the floor, staining it, in the red pools of blood lay the dropped weapons, riddled corpses in grey boiler suits and their ripped parts.

  With a dash of pride, Antares observed only two emotions on the opponents’ faces – shock and panicky terror. It gave him a sense of victory and supremacy over the enemy vermin. He raised the corner of his lips and strode out of the rank.

  “Maybe one of you would be so kind as to tell me where’s the database?” he asked, strolling over to the group of the Unions.

  “How do we know?” spoke up a Kehrian, frowning and leaning towards the oppressor. “We’re just common workers! They don’t tell us things like this, we don’t…”

  Antares broke the discussion with a shot from his Ascalon. “So, he didn’t know.” He looked at the Celestian standing next to the dead man. “What about you?”

  Before the Union said anything, Nadee spoke up, “We should hurry up.” She checked something on her LiqWatch. “It seems the Unions are going to take some equipment with them.”

  “I got it,” said Antares and looked at the leader of the Rakshasas.

  Jangalee nodded and whispered something to his companions.

  “So,” Antares pointed at Jouni and the rest of the Pride of Talvi, “go look for the database, and we’ll liquidate them.”

  “Have fun,” said Jouni with a barely visible, sneering smile. He swung his hand, giving a sign to retreat. The Celestians of Talvi left the chamber in a careless formation, bawling battle cries known only to them.

  Antares and the Rakshasas corralled the Unions against the wall and raised their weapons.

  Cerridwen joined the rebels too and brought the stolen gun out.

  She stood at the edge of the rank so as to not find herself at the firing line. She looked behind at the dead enemies on the floor, their bodies jagged by bullets. Their boiler suits had plenty of holes as big as her thumb, and the cracked heads and faces of some of them resembled jelly-like mosaics of meat and bones.

  Salty, searing tears streamed from Cerridwen’s eyes.

  He must have looked like them.

  She blinked and wiped her eyes with a dusty sleeve, which intensified the tickle even more. The Celestian girl narrowed her eyes. She closed her sweaty and trembling fingers on the gun. She clenched her teeth so firmly that her jaw began to hurt. She panted almost as harshly as the Rakshasas, issuing similar low growls.

  Why him? Why did someone else not die that day?

  The Celestian girl inhaled for the last time. She put her finger on the trigger. She sized up the Union, leaning against the wall, with a gaze as hateful as sorrowful.

  Seth did it for profit.

  Like a distant, phantasmal echo, one order reached her ears:

  "Fire!”

  A split second later, a burst of shots reverberated. Cerridwen, like hypnotised, sent a bullet right into the face of the frightened Kehrian enemy. He stiffened as the lead drove through his skull like it had passed through a paper. The blood of his and the other Unions flooded the floor and sprinkled the edge of Cerridwen’s shoe.

  She gazed at the glistening red ooze, slowly sinking into the dust, for several seconds. She watched the dim contours of the silhouettes reflecting in them, which began to move smoothly. The Celestian girl lowered her weapon and slipped it into her pocket. Because of the buzzing in her ears, she barely heard the words reaching her:

  “Where to now, engineer?”

  “Over there and right… and then down the stairs.”

  “Move!”

  A touch on her arm woke her up from the rising numbness. Cerridwen turned around and placed her hand on her cheek, wiping away the dust blended with sweat and tears.

  “We have to go,” whispered Nadee.

  Cerridwen nodded and approached the Kehrian woman. She grasped Nadee’s sleeve and staggered after her. The Celestian girl looked at the enemies for the last time. She did not regret what she had done.

  Seth doesn’t regret it too…