No Guardian, I

Part 13

Yaltrik was not terribly strong by Eliksni standards. He was cunning, though, and adept at all things mechanical. This has seen him rise from a shank-serving dreg to Walker maintenance crew, and then - at the peak of his ambition - he became pilot to Korkis, Devil Captain.

Yaltrik was there when the sharp radio-ears of the Skiff picked up a wail in the ruins on the east bank of the river. Yaltrik was the one who brought the news to his Captain. Yaltrik flew the Skiff to the source of the signal. Yaltrik would become dreg again for this failure.

The ten hooting vandals and dregs in the Skiff's hold readily disembarked once he brought the gunship to hover just below the roofline of the structure the signal originated from. They went in, covering each other with their line rifles and shock pistols, eager to find and punish the trespasser that thought he could wander on their territory and plunder what was theirs by right of the conqueror. They flew out, in pieces, when they tripped mine after mine in a maze of broken catwalks and rubbish.

There were no enemies to be seen - Yaltrik's guns played back and forth across the visible space, searching for a target. He heard his Captain growl behind him and pull out his cutlass. With a crackle, both the blade and the Captain's cloaking field activated, and Korkis, winner of a hundred duels, jumped down to rally his troops.

His roar was answered by the cries of the wounded inside. He laughed, cruelly, and walked in. There was a muffled crump of a grenade detonating.

This was the last Yaltrik has ever seen of him.

Something bumped against the Skiff's upper hull. Most likely, some rubble dislodged by the explosions inside. Yaltrik waited. Not out of loyalty - this was something only remembered in legends - but out of fear. If Korkis came out and there was no Skiff waiting for him, even dreg life would be something the pilot would be yearning for by the time the Captain was done with him.

And he waited for a few more breath-times. Then, a strong hand slammed his forehead against the control board. His whole body went limp from the shock, but he could still see and hear. A local - apparently a female, it was so difficult to tell them apart, especially with their helmets on - wearing black cloth, with one of their solid-round weapons across her (his?) back, tied his hands and feet together and went back to the rows of crew-hatches to shout something outside and throw down a length of rope. The shock got to him and he blacked out.

***

Jasker found himself not missing one bit the feel of a rope in his hands. It dug in and was slippery at the same time, and the three-meter climb was painful, humiliating and likely pointless.

Still, he made it, helped across the man-hole's rim by Alyona, and pulled up the packs behind him. They were markedly lighter, now that the crate of grenades Paook gave him has been used up. Alyona brought down the catwalks with a few directed explosions, and then rigged a lot of booby-traps, which the Fallen readily sprung on their way in, and, in their panic, out.

He, himself, waited in another building further down the street with the rest of the supplies. It was a shame that they could not bring the Sparrow with them, but traveling faster was the entire point of commandeering a Skiff. They were under no illusions that, if they were challenged by someone on the comms, they would be in trouble, but it was better than being shot at from above while riding an unarmored bike across a plain.

Thus, Jas built a single-use radio-beacon out of the Sparrow's systems, while Alyona mined the warehouse. Then, she climbed the building and waited. The plan relied on many things aligning together, and, surprisingly, they all did.

The Skiff descended near the building; it was low and close enough to the building's roof edge that Alyona could jump across; she managed to find handholds; the crew hatches were left open; the pilot was too intent on his controls and did not pay any attention to his surroundings.

And, most importantly, the Fallen blew themselves up on the grenades inside.

Glazok flew out of Alyona's thigh pocket and busied itself scanning the control board. It muttered something, apparently trying to make sense of the myriad of buttons, knobs and dials that littered the panel.

After a while, it turned to Jasker and Alyona.

"Well, I think I can fly it," it said, proudly. "Let's take this for a spin."

The Skiff accelerated upwards, flattening the humans against the floor, next to the bound and unconscious Fallen.

"Oops," muttered the Ghost. "Guess that was also acceleration. Compensating for gravity vectors, aaand..."

As it stabbed another beam of light in the controls of the Skiff, the ship turned and flew north, away from the ruined city and into the woodlands beyond that marked the foot of the Ural mountains.

In several hours, they would reach the general area where Jasker's datachip put the first location.

The Ignatyevska Cave system.

***

"Who are you?"

"I... am... above you... dreg."

"Holding a blade to your throat, yes? Can cut you anytime. Who are you?"

"My name is... Korkis."

"A Devil Captain, yes? Why are you dying, Devil?"

"Betrayed..."

"Betrayed? All you do is betray, yes? Ever since the Whirlwind. No rest, no respite. Is there anything you want, Captain?"

"To... live..."

"So did I. Wait, I'll bring you to what you desire... oh Captain mine."