and here's the second half

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Nearly fifteen minutes of searching turned up nothing on the women's part,
nor was there any further communication from any of Killgore's teams. With
each passing minute, Iria, who insisted on remaining in the lead, became
increasingly restless. It became worse when their progressed slowed as they
neared the areas where the spacecraft had hit. The damage to the building
was evident. Cracks had formed in the floor, ceiling, walls, and in some
cases collapsed outright. Emergency lighting was the only form of
illumination, bathing everything in an eerie crimson glow.

Iria stopped at a junction and signaled the others to do the same. "This is
bad. We have to find him quickly before he escapes again. He could slip out
of any hole and we'd never know he was gone."

"What do you recommend?" Kei asked.

"Splitting up. It'll increase our chances of finding him."

"That'll be dangerous. And what about the other guards around here?" Yuri
pointed out.

"I haven't seen any in a while. I'd bet they're sticking mostly to the outer
areas for now. If any get in our way, we'll take care of them."

"What about Zeiram?" Kei asked.

"If you find him just track him. Don't try to handle him on your own. Lance
was right about one thing; he is too powerful to take on alone."

That made sense to the others. Kei and Yuri stayed together and headed left,
leaving Iria to go in the opposite direction.

Iria slipped her goggles back on and used its light amplification system to
see the room as though it was brightly lit. Now that Kei and Yuri were gone,
she moved more quickly, almost recklessly, through the increasingly damaged
sections of the facility. Zeiram was here. She could feel it in her bones.
This time there would be no escape for the demon that had haunted her for so
long.

And then she heard it. A loud thud that echoed in one of the corridors from
up ahead. She paused, listening intently. There was another thud, and
another, which could only be the sounds of something monstrously heavy
walking toward her location. It didn't take a genius to figure out what that
monstrous thing was.

Moving forward, Iria positioned herself so that she could ambush Zeiram, her
instruction to Kei of not confronting him alone forgotten. She switched the
selector switch on her rifle to rocket launcher, and attached one to the
barrel. It was an armor piercer, designed for penetration rather than
explosive power. Blowback wouldn't be a problem unless she fired it at point
blank range. She crouched several meters away from the edge of the
passageway that Zeiram was coming down. The instant he was in the open,
she'd fire.

The thuds grew louder, then, curiously, grew softer. Iria listened intently,
and realized the tread was now moving away from her. Panicking, she raced up
to the edge of the corridor and peered around it. There was another
passageway just a handful of meters away, leading in a different direction.
Obviously Zeiram had taken that one, and was increasing his pace from the
sounds of it.

Iria raced to the start of the corridor, intent on getting a shot at Zeiram
before he noticed her. As the length of passageway entered her sight and she
was able to look down it, she saw the hulking figure not more than ten
meters away. She lifted her rifle and sighted it on the back of the creature
when she stopped. While the thing was certainly as wide as Zeiram, and
nearly as tall, it was clearly not the one she had been seeking. Instead he
was made entirely of silvery metal, had a double row of armored triangular
plates that rose from his back, and had a tail with spikes protruding from
it.

Iria lowered her rifle in confusion.

Stegrax's head swiveled a hundred and eighty degrees. Iria found red faceted
eyes and a pointed snout filled with sharp teeth aimed in her direction.
>From the mechanoid's shoulders, two small laser mounts poked up from their
concealment and also swiveled in her direction.

Reflexes took over as Iria dove for cover. Twin lines of pencil thin energy
lanced out from the small shoulder weapons. They crisscrossed with one
another as they tried to track Iria, their light leaving a smoking black
line across everything they touched. One of the ruby beams nicked the edge
of Iria's shin guard, leaving dark scoring on it but failing to penetrate
the white armor. Then she was out of sight at the edge of the corridor.

She leaned flat against the wall while she assessed the situation. Cyborg or
robot, and not one that belonged here. No security force would commission
such a thing for a facility like this. A private owner with a flare for
flamboyance might indulge himself in such a way, but not a megacorporation
like YSC. Either he was also working for Scorphius, or he was one of those
other mercenaries Killgore had been complaining about. Iria leaned toward
the latter. A mercenary would think something as ridiculous looking as a
robotic dinosaur was intimidating.

Iria was about to spin around the corner and use her armor piercing rocket
when she heard a loud click come from the direction of the cyborg.
Instinctively she backed away as fast as she could.

A moment later large wads of energy cleaved through the metal of the wall
right where she had been standing, as though it wasn't there. A second
slower and even her armor would have been equally useless as those blasts
would have melted her insides faster than she could blink.

Iria backed away more quickly, reevaluating her foe. Whoever he was, his
weaponry far outstripped hers. She had to get the first shot in and prayed
it crippled him. She backed away to her original ambush point, poking a
small mirror, no more than a handful of centimeters wide, around the corner
to give her a view down it. The moment the cyborg fully popped out, she
would nail him with the rocket.

The wait wasn't long as Stegrax showed his overconfidence in believing he
had hit Iria with his second salvo. He appeared, turning to look at where he
had fired, obviously expecting to find a body. Iria noted that from his
sides had popped out what appeared to be cylinders from a gigantic revolver.
A pair of 'Revolver Canons' if she identified them correctly. Those would
have been powerful enough to punch through a wall like that, and in
something his size, they would probably have a decent rate of fire, coming
from both of his sides.

It didn't matter. They'd be scrap, just like the rest of him. Mentally
marking his position, she withdrew the mirror, then spun and fired.

Stegrax saw the movement and reacted. As the rocket erupted from the front
of the bounty hunter's rifle, the cyborg pointed his maw at her and opened
it. The rocket was halfway to him when he let out a roar. A solid wave of
sonic energy erupted from his mouth, knocking the rocket off course and
letting it careen into a nearby wall where it detonated, throwing shards of
metal in every direction. A normal person would have been cut badly and the
force of the nearby explosion knocking them off their feet. Stegrax merely
stood there, ignoring the rain of metal the way a normal person would if it
had been water.

The wave of sonic force continued, slamming into Iria and sending her flying
backward. She went limp as she struck the wall behind her with near
bonebreaking force. She had barely hit the ground when she was rolling
backward. It was just in time as another salvo of large energy blasts hit
where she had been laying a moment ago.

Taking short gasps in order to catch her breath, Iria faced forward while
running backward, unwilling to show her back to the cyborg. She flipped the
selector switch back to laser mode as she tried increasing her speed, a
difficult feat given her lack of oxygen.

Stegrax turned the corner, let out a bellow of triumph, and began to fire
his revolver cannons again. The blasts streamed out, one per cylinder, in
synchronized destruction.

Despite her winded state, Iria returned fire. It was a combination of luck
and skill as one of the shots went up the launch tube of the left Revolver
canon, blowing out the back of it and shutting the weapon down. Stegrax then
learned one of the drawbacks to having the cannons fire in synchronicity:
when one shut down, so did the other.

More shots struck him, but his armor was thick enough to ward them off.
Instead, even as the revolver canons retracted back into their housing, he
raised his right hand and pointed it at Iria.

Iria continued to pour on the fire, hoping to hit another vulnerable point..
Sparing some attention to the hand, she was surprised to see it suddenly
fall from its housing on the arm. The hand only held on by a small strip of
metal at the bottom.

Then the bounty hunter realized that the hand had not fallen off, but rather
had served as camouflage for the barrel of whatever weapon had been
concealed behind it. The one pointing right at her. Despite her winded
state, Iria dove left even as the missile left its housing.

It was yet another near miss in almost as many seconds as the missile struck
right where she had been a moment ago. Already airborne, the explosion
propelled her much farther than her dive would have taken her. Luckily, the
only major pieces of shrapnel to hit her were deflected by her armor, though
a number of smaller pieces cut into the unprotected areas of her body.

She was hurled against a wall at the far end of the corridor, though since
she was already out of breath, it did nothing to worsen her condition. Her
rifle had been blown out of her hands and was out of reach. Going back for
it was out of the question, since she would have to put herself directly in
Stegrax's line of fire. Instead she abandoned the weapon and tried running,
though her pace was slow with how badly her body ached from being hurled
about into metal walls like a giant racquetball.

Iria almost made it far enough to get out of sight when a trio of guards
appeared in front of her. All of them were tense, obviously from the sounds
of the combat between the bounty hunter and her opponent.

"It's an intruder! Kill her!" one of the men shouted.

Three rifles were aimed at her unprotected head. Standing no more than a
handful of feet from her, there was no way all of them would miss. It was
unlikely any of them would. Iria winced. This was one of the most stupid
ways to go. Taken out by a toaster version of Zeiram and a handful of
rent-a-cops that barely knew which way to point a gun.

Before any of the security personnel could fire, their chests erupted into
fountains of bloody gore as flechette rounds fired from behind Iria tore
them to shreds. Sensing she too was in the line of fire, she dove for yet
another corner. It was the only thing that prevented her from becoming a
pile of shattered bone and shredded muscle like the trio of men now behind
her. As she dove, she caught a glimpse of Stegrax holding his other arm up
and the flechettes coming from the palm of the left hand. She had no idea
why he saved her, but she had a feeling it wasn't to apologize for his rude
treatment of her from before.

Running was proving itself untenable. Iria knew her only hope was to gain
some space between her and her opponent and try to set up an ambush. She had
just the thing to work on something made of metal, but hitting him with it
would be tricky. She needed to trap him. Much to her dismay, she saw that
further up the passageway she had blindly darted into, the ceiling had
collapsed, effectively cutting off any avenue to escape. The side the men
had come up was clear, but that would mean cutting across the other
passageway and entering the cyborg's line of fire, which was almost certain
death.

Looking back up the corridor she was in, Iria saw that there were a couple
of rooms, one to the right and one to the left. The door on the right was
wide open, the power loss coming just as someone had either left or entered.
She ran up to it and looked inside. It was some sort of small theater.
Whatever purpose it held in such a place was beyond her. She inventoried the
contents of the room. Holographic projection equipment located near the
front. Lots of chairs. A water cooler off to the side.

Water cooler. It was stand alone design that needed no power, and had in
fact been in service in industrial buildings for centuries, its basic design
inexpensive and never improved upon. An idea formed in Iria's mind. She
could definitely make use of that. But first she needed the door closed.
Luckily there was a manual override on the door. She opened the emergency
compartment and spun the wheel, shutting the door and setting the locking
mechanism into place. Not that she seriously though it would stop the cyborg
that was stalking her. She just needed a little time and privacy.

Running like death itself was on her tail, she pulled out the two steel
vials she had on her person. It was a weapon she thought might be useful
against Zeiram, but it had other uses as well. She examined the water cooler
and saw, as she hoped, that it loaded from the top. She pried off the small
circle that sealed it and poured the contents of the binary solution into
the mix. It would water down the effect somewhat, but should still do what
it needed to. She placed a small shaped charge and transmitter on the side
of it. The work was quick, but it would have to do.

Not that she was placing all of her trust in that. She had a more direct
approach thought out. The ceiling was slightly taller than the door, which
would give her a perfect ambush point. Iria heard the loud tread of Stegrax
through the walls, drawing nearer. Obviously he had divined exactly where
she had hidden herself. She had to move fast. She attached several magnetic
strips to her palms and bottom of her boots, then used a rappel line to draw
her up to the ceiling, where she attached herself to it. It was a gamble. If
he looked up, she would be a stationary target with no means of cover or
escape, but she had to take a chance on outsmarting her foe, since
overpowering him was out of the question.

The loud thudding stopped. She wondered how he'd enter the room. Ripping the
door off its tracks was the easiest way, and he'd be able to use it for
cover in case she was waiting to shoot him. Luckily, it would only shield
him from frontal assaults, not ones from above.

There was a peculiar whooshing sound from out in the hall. Iria's musings as
to their origin were cut short as from about a meter to the left of the
door, Stegrax's tail lashed out, cutting through the metal of the wall, the
door, and the wall on the other side of about the same distance, leaving a
long wide tear behind. The tail retreated out of sight. It was followed up
by twin thin laser beams that crisscrossed each other in the firing port
created by the tail, slicing through the chairs like a surgeon's scalpel
through flesh. Iria suddenly felt a lot better. She had considered simply
waiting in front of the door and shooting through it when the cyborg
appeared. Had she done so, she'd have been sliced in half, just liked the
furnishings. The water cooler, luckily, was out of sight along the side, and
remained untouched by the laser.

The lasers stopped and the sound of crumpling metal came from below Iria.
The remnants of the door were hurled into the room at a high velocity,
creating even more damage. Sweat beaded Iria's brow as the cyborg refused to
appear. Then she heard his heavy tread as began walking forward.

As she hoped, Stegrax's eyes scanned the room in a left to right manner, not
looking up just yet. Perfect. She dropped down on him, mindful to keep from
being impaled on the upraised triangular plates that lined his back. She
wrapped an arm around his neck while attaching a small packet to his
shoulder.

Before she could do anything else, the tail curled upward, swatting her
aside like a bothersome fly on the back of a horse. She was hurled across
the room, this time hitting her head. Her world spun around shakily from the
effects of the concussion. It was only instinct that made her press the
remote on her belt.

The explosive attached to Stegrax's shoulder detonated with a loud boom. At
point blank range, it destroyed all of the plating and much of the wiring in
the right arm, rendering it immobile, as well as knocking out some of his
other systems.

He was still reeling when Iria kicked over the water cooler, knocking it on
its side and releasing the round container filled with the water from the
top. She shoved it with her foot toward Stegrax, the water sloshing about as
it rolled toward him.

Stegrax's targeting computer informed him the container represented no
threat, so he ignored it while bringing up his flechette hand and aiming it
in Iria's direction.

It was then she activated the second explosive while simultaneously diving
behind one of the few intact seats. The liquid vessel burst open, spraying
the contents about the room, including all over Stegrax. He had to
reevaluate the threat, wondering why the container had exploded for no
apparent reason. Then he saw what the droplets were doing to his metal
exterior as they slowly ate it away.

Acid! It was a cyborg's worst enemy. While Stegrax had an acid-resistance
coating applied to him several months ago, he had been through a lot and it
barely held back any of the metal eating properties of the substance. It
would have been worse, had it not been diluted by the water in the cooler,
but there was far more of it all over his body. Already pock marks formed on
his exterior and ate through more of the exposed wiring from the earlier
explosion.

Stunned by the unexpected reversal, Stegrax left himself open as a rocket
struck him in the stomach, blowing open more of his armor and revealing more
of his internal mechanisms. Luckily it was a lighter explosive, pistol sized
rather than one created for a larger rifle. Even with his armor weakened by
the acid, it held up well, only causing another half dozen systems to crash.
He roared once, unleashing another sonic blast in Iria's general direction,
then retreated as fast as he could before she finished him off.

The sonic wave struck Iria, who was fully exposed to the blast since she had
just finished firing and her reflexes, dulled from the abuse she had
received, were too slow. She was hurled into the hard metal back of the seat
behind her. The pain from having been tossed around and rammed into things
multiple times, combined with her concussion, was too much for her to take.
It overwhelmed her, and she let out one faint curse before passing out.

xxxxxxxxxxx

Stegrax had not paused in his flight for even a second, which was why he was
unaware that he had essentially won the fight against the woman who had
blown apart half of his systems. All he cared about was fleeing to somewhere
safe, where he'd sit out the rest of the fight. The most likely place to
ensure his survival would be the command center. It was a reinforced bunker
with plenty of men left behind to guard it as they monitored the situation
as best as they could. His internal communications were still working, so,
he informed them that he would be arriving in a short while and to be on the
lookout.

With the schematics of the facility in his computer, Stegrax calculated the
quickest route to the command center. It would take him near the heart of
the impact, but he was in a hurry, and his speed had been hampered seriously
in the fight. Even his tail no longer responded to his commands. He ran a
diagnostic program on himself to determine the extent of the damage while he
ran for safety. Far too many of his systems were down. He was vulnerable in
a way that he hadn't been since he was made of only flesh and blood.

Stegrax came to a door and forced it open with his one good arm. Cutting
through one of the larger labs would save him five minutes of moving through
the corridors. As he entered the room, he stumbled upon another occupant
already inside, hunched over a metal barrel. The sound of forcing the door
open alerted the occupant to the intruder.

Zeiram turned around.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Hmm. A distinct lack of dead bodies here," Kei muttered mostly to herself.

"Except those we found crushed by falling sections of the building," Yuri
reminded her.

"Well, yeah. I meant shot up or ripped apart corpses. The type Zeiram always
leaves behind wherever he goes. Not that crushed people don't count. I mean
we can't tell which way he went if he doesn't leave us a bunch of dead
bodies to follow," Kei clarified.

"Right." In a moment of epiphany, Yuri wondered when they had become so
casual about people being dead around them. She supposed others would feel
sick or disgusted at the idea of a conversation about what sort of dead
people they were looking for. She supposed it was a type of defense
mechanism, though even in her days as a rookie, she couldn't remember
feeling too broken up about people dying around her. That she wasn't
responsible for their deaths helped, and she felt bad on an intellectual
level about it, but that was all. Kei was the same way. The lack of
emotional response didn't even bother her. It was just something she noted.

Her musings were interrupted as she and Kei entered a large empty room the
size of a gymnasium. At first glance, it appeared to be some sort of testing
area. They had only taken a handful of steps when a door located on the
opposite side of the area opened and two other people entered.

The two men were the exact opposite of one another. One was black and so
large his arms were the size of Kei and Yuri's legs. Curiously, what
appeared to be twin sledgehammers were strapped across his back. His
comrade, while the same size, was the opposite in coloring. He was so pale
that he had to be an albino, and for some bizarre reason, the top two inches
of his skull seemed to be missing. Strapped to his back was a large power
pack of some kind. It was confusing, since he didn't appear to have any
weapons on his person. Both were wearing bulky exo-frames, which would
afford them some protection from physical harm, as well as augmenting their
strength.

Since she and Kei didn't recognize the pair, it was safe to assume they were
probably operating on the 'shoot all intruders' order given to the security
personnel. While it was obvious they weren't rank and file rent-a-cops, both
radiated an aura of danger despite their lack of a weapon more sophisticated
than a sledgehammer between them.

Yuri and Kei aimed their pistols at the pair. The men responded by looking
the women over more closely.

The black one said, "I'd say by their uniforms these are the 3WA agents our
contact wanted dead."

"Unless there are another pair or agents around here," the albino concurred.

"I kind of doubt that. Ah well, won't be the first time we've wasted the
3WA's lackeys."

Kei and Yuri looked at each other, scowling. "Whitey," Kei said.

That left Yuri with the darker of the pair. They aimed at their targets and
fired.

The albino raised his hand, and a large distortion in the air, rectangular
in shape, appeared directly in front of the men. The air was shimmered, like
the effect produced by black asphalt on a sunny summer day. The shots hit
the distortion and dissipated, as though they had impacted against a solid
surface that had the durability of a tank. Unperturbed, Yuri and Kei poured
continuous fire into the shimmering, but the men behind merely stared in
amusement.

Seeing their shots had no effect, the Dirty Pair paused as they considered
what to do next. However, they weren't given any time to think as the darker
of the pair pulled out his sledgehammers, wielding them in his grasp as if
they were weightless Styrofoam props. As he advanced, so did the shimmering
as I moved just ahead of him. Again the women fired, this time only at the
foe approaching them, but not a single one of their shots breached the
mysterious distortion.

It seemed he was heading toward Kei at an angle as he moved forward, staying
to her left and keeping himself from being caught between the women. Yuri's
finger jerked quickly on her trigger, firing at the arms and legs, hoping to
find a weak point in the wall. Kei did the opposite, shooting at the exact
same spot repeatedly, hoping to hammer through it with brute force.

The man was no more than a couple of meters in front of Kei when he stopped
moving forward and instead raised the sledgehammers into the air, the heads
of each now surrounded by a glowing golden aura, demonstrating they were not
normal construction tools. Kei backed away while Yuri, who was well out of
reach, continued firing ineffectually.

The man brought the hammers down at the same time. Surprisingly, the target
was not Kei, but rather the floor. While the shimmering wall might have
stopped lasers, it didn't prevent the shockwave produced by the impact from
being transmitted through the floor, Kei was knocked onto her backside,
while Yuri was staggered and her gun slipped from her grasp as she was
forced to pinwheel her arms and try to balance herself.

Suddenly the shimmering was gone. The darker man, who had kept his balance
the entire time brought his hammers back up, heads glowing again, and aimed
right at Kei. She rolled out of the way of one aimed at her body, but the
second one crashed down on her gun, smashing it into a bent piece of metal
and nearly doing the same to her hand, which she narrowly snatched out of
the way in time.

Yuri bent down and recovered her own laser pistol. Years of training enabled
her to aim unerringly even as she brought it up, sighting in the attacker's
head. Just as she fired, the shimmering appeared right in front of her,
stopping the laser only centimeters after it left the barrel.

"Why don't we let those two duke it out for a while?" the albino called out
from his position at the far side of the room.

Yuri turned to look at him and realized something. The shimmering wasn't
wrapped around her. It remained a large rectangle interposed between herself
and Kei, stopping her in one direction and no other. She switched targets
and aimed at the albino.

The wall moved as fast as thought, now between her and her target. She fired
a trio of times, finding her luck the same as before.

"How are you doing it?" she asked, hoping against hope he was stupid enough
to tell her. He seemed the bragging type. Sort of like Kei, when Yuri
thought of it.

He pointed at his head. "Telekinesis. Oh, they had to operate on my brain a
bit in order to refine it and increase it by several levels of magnitude,
but I didn't really need the parts they removed. My telekinetic walls are
immovable objects. That's why I got the nickname 'The Anvil'. And my brother
is nicknamed 'Hammer', for less subtle reasons." He pointed in the direction
of Harrison.

Yuri turned to see that since Kei had been rendered weaponless, 'Hammer' was
trying his best to flatten her with his namesake. Every time the glowing
weapons struck the floor or walls, the metal crumpled underneath the force.
Even a glancing blow would be enough to finish off Yuri's partner.

Not that Kei was content to play the attack dummy. Several times she used
her nimble form to lash out with fist or foot, but the exo-frame absorbed
the attacks easily, not even making Hammer flinch. Despite the man's
tremendous size and the weight of his weapons, his exo-frame made every
swing as powerful as the one before, while Kei was slowing down ever so
slightly. It was only a matter of time before Kei grew tired and Hammer
managed to strike her. Then it would be Yuri's turn.

Yuri tested the Anvil's boast and aimed at Kei and then back at the
telekinetic. In each case he tracked her movements and placed the wall
between her and her targets. Yuri had enough familiarity with the power of
the mind from the Nolandia affair to know this was trouble. Still, if this
Anvil guy needed such drastic measures as removing sections of his brain to
increase his telekinesis, his power had to be limited. She decided to test
the waters. "You can't keep this up forever. Sooner or later your brain will
get tired and I'll nail you and your partner." She shot once into the wall
for emphasis.

The Anvil smirked. "You'll run out of ammo long before I run out of power,
thanks to this." He threw a thumb over his shoulder to indicate the pack on
his back.

So now Yuri had a tertiary target, noting its importance after dispatching
either of the brothers. She calmed herself. There was something about the
wall that was bothering her. Obviously his control over telekinesis was
sorely limited, or else he would have ripped their guns out of their hands
or crushed their heads with his mind or something. It appeared he relied on
the wall structure for protection. An impressive defense, while his hammer
wielding brother provided the offence. But it was limiting as well.

She carefully examined the telekinetic wall. Ten meters long and about eight
high, nearly reaching to the ceiling of the room. It was mobile, but
inflexible, or else he'd throw her in a cocoon instead of moving the wall in
front of her gun. Running toward him while firing at Kei might work, but
he'd see her coming, and probably angle the wall to drive her back while
keeping her from hitting anything. What she really needed was two guns so
she could divide her targets. Or one that could reach around corners.

It was then Yuri knew what to do. She bent down, firing at the Anvil the
entire time, and removed her 'Bloody Card' from her boot. Keeping it hidden
from sight behind her back, she opened up with a laser volley in the Anvil's
direction that would be bright enough to make even him blink.

He did so, and she flung the card with a snap of the wrist in a direction
parallel to the wall. As she counted on, its gyroscopes and her skill
allowed it to arc around the telekinetic structure and all the way to the
far wall of the room before sailing across the way and heading toward its
target.

"You're wasting your time, girl," the Anvil bragged once her laser storm was
over. Then he paused. For all his bluster, he was a professional, and the
girl was waiting for something good for her to happen. Good for her would be
bad for him. Did he see her throw something out from behind her back at the
height of her volley?

The Anvil sensed more than heard the Bloody Card cutting through the air. He
tucked and rolled into a ball while concentrating on maintaining his shield.
If she fired at his brother while he was distracted, it could be bad. He
just hoped her attention remained focused on him and her attack.

The Anvil came out of his roll and on his feet. There was a slightly
perturbed look on Yuri's features. Good, he had circumvented whatever it was
she had planned. "Nice try girl, whatever it was, but you fail..." his boast
died on his lips as she was now displaying a wide smile for him. He couldn't
figure out why until the smell of ozone and the sound of sparks reached his
senses. Both were coming from behind him.

"Oh, shit! Harrison!" he cried out, even as the damage to the powerpack
caused it to explode. It was not Artus 'The Anvil' Winston's lucky day. The
card, while missing his neck, which had been Yuri's original target, had
struck one of the few vital points on his pack; the connection wire between
his back and the terminal port in his neck. The feedback caused the pack to
overload, rather than shut down. Had the latter happened, Artus could have
summoned enough strength to maintain his telekinetic wall until he and his
brother retreated. With the force of the contained, but impressive
explosion, it blew through the protection of his exo-frame and sent over a
hundred pieces of metal and plastic debris through his back and out the
front of his chest.

Harrison 'Hammer' Winston had just tripped Kei and knocked her prone on the
floor. There would be no escape from her in that position. His twin hammers
were raised high above his head when he heard the explosion come from across
the room and turned just in time to see his brother's dead body slump to the
floor.

"Artus!" he cried out. Those were his last words as a shot from Yuri went
through the faceplate of his exo-frame, killing him instantly. The
sledgehammers, no longer supported, slipped from his hands and fell right on
top him, driving the upper part of exo-frame into his corpse.

"Blech!" Kei commented as she rose to her feet and backed away from the
grisly remains.

"Gruesome," Yuri agreed.

"I was more worried about getting his blood on me," Kei clarified. She
looked over to the dead body across the room. "Unusual foes."

"Yeah, they gave you a hard time for a minute." Yuri shot her partner a
mischievous look.

Kei appeared offended. "Me? Au contraire. I was distracting the big guy,
since I knew he'd squash you flat inside thirty seconds. I knew you'd figure
out how to get around that force field thing before he'd come close to me."

"Yeah, right," Yuri said drolly as Kei recovered her weapon and the two
exited the room.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The assassin known as Cross, who would insist that not only was he not a
Samidat assassin, but such a cabal didn't exist, was leading the three
members of his team through one of the numerous labs, trying to locate
Zeiram. As they passed through, he noted some of the substances in the
numerous containers that were marked with numbers rather than the names of
their actual contents. Others would have been surprised to discover that he
recognized exactly what they were and what uses they had. Cross had the
equivalent of a high level degree in over four sciences, and had he chosen
so could have earned a seven figure salary with any megacorporation,
including YSC or the Tormand Confederation. Not that he had any intention of
doing such. It was just that he grew bored easily, and there was such a
thing as overtraining. So he studied science on the side as a hobby, and it
turned out he had an aptitude for it, similar to his ability to kill people.

As Cross noted the containers, and the only things that they could be used
for in conjunction with one another, he made a mental note that YSC was up
to some very interesting things, besides the item that Zeiram was after. It
was nice to know Killgore trusted him enough to inform him of what Scorphius
was after here. It was a pity they hadn't the time to find out where it was
located at the facility, so he could head directly to it and kill Zeiram
himself. He was certain he could do it. The monster could feel pain and
bleed, and anything that did those two things could die. If there was a way
to kill it, Cross would find that way.

The assassin suddenly stopped in the middle of the room, as though he was
frozen in place.

One of the women behind him asked, "What is it?" and began pointing her gun
in every direction in the room.

"Cross senses something," one of the others provided, and did the same.

After a moment, Cross said, "I really must give you my apologies. It appears
we're dealing with a true professional." And dove to the floor just as
several small objects came into the room through a wall and headed toward
the three remaining people and where Cross had been a moment ago. The ionic
shurikens, which has passed through two inches of metal as though they
weren't there, sliced through vital points of each of the three still
standing people, killing them instantly.

Cross was in motion. Whoever it was had something that enabled them to see
through walls, probably a heat sensor. Having noted where some of the more
volatile chemicals were located, he shot them, causing a small fire to erupt
in the lab. He interposed the flames between him and the holes left behind
from the paths the shurikens had taken.

Much to his annoyance, a half dozen others were thrown from a different
point in the wall, heading toward the small conflagration. While the person
couldn't tell precisely where he was, they would have a good idea.

Cross dove in the direction of some more chemicals and away from the
shurikens, shooting at them and causing another explosion. This time one of
the shurikens clipped his hamstring, biting deep enough to bleed make him
bleed profusely and severely limit his mobility. Yes, whoever it was
stalking him was damn good. He was disgusted to note that a part of him was
thrilled with someone so worthy trying to kill him. He was a professional,
and only killed for business, not pleasure, and no true professional wanted
a difficult target. Easy ones were always the best. But he was so rarely
challenged that there was something exhilarating about knowing how close to
death he was.

Cross shot up several other chemicals, causing fires throughout the lab.
Soon the blaze would claim the whole room, and him with it. He had to end
the fight fast.

Even as he placed a rebreather on his face, to keep the smoke from getting
to him, he noted that the shurikens probably weren't coated in poison, since
they had to pass through walls and any such substance would be lost on when
it cut through. Ionic shurikens were an interesting choice of weapon. Using
them required a high level of training, and the number one could carry was
limited. On the other hand, they were silent, had no tell tale power
signature until they were activated, and didn't necessarily have to come
from a linear direction. Though from the way they had been clustered in both
attacks, he assumed they were all coming from the same point of origin, and
that it was in a direct line. He doubted there was enough room on the other
side of the wall for them to arc and hide the origin point. That meant he
had already circumvented one of his opponent's advantages by forcing them to
make mass attacks from one point instead of single attacks from anywhere.

Cross noted that the area they had been thrown from had changed from right
to left. The foe was probably moving even as the shurikens left their hands.
But what direction? Did they have a habit to dodge in a particular
direction? At the level they were operating at, he doubted it.

He boosted the power level on his pistol. It was a pity he shunned heavy
weapons, but he was a surgeon and preferred using scalpels. Killgore was the
type who liked flash and big explosions. They made the perfect team. At the
moment, Cross really could have used a plasma cannon to melt the wall down
and make things a whole lot easier. Instead he was going to have to shoot
through the wall at his highest setting in order to kill his opponent. But
that mean he only had four shots per magazine before the power level would
be drained and he'd have to reload. And he didn't have an unlimited amount
of magazines on him. He hadn't expected a protracted fight, not with Zeiram.

There was a plan of attack he had for situations like this, though they
tended to be based on two foes in pitch blackness with no way to pierce the
gloom. He tensed up and dove for another fire. He chose a point on the wall
one meter to the left from where the first attack had come from, and fired
four shots in a perfect line, twenty centimeters apart.

Sure enough, the foe attacked when he gave away his position. A quartet of
shurikens buried themselves in the plate of the flooring in between fires.
This time the throws had come from the right of the last attack, and were
lower. So the mystery attacker wasn't repeating the dodge pattern. They
probably wouldn't dodge twice in the same direction in a row. It was too
chancy. Now, it was time to play process of elimination. He loaded a fresh
magazine, and prayed to the goods of chance that his foe's luck ran out
before his.

Cross chose to fire to the left, hoping to herd his foe to the right where
he had laid his trap. His shot passed through the wall, followed a moment
later by another quartet of shurikens. One nicked him in his shoulder,
luckily his off fighting hand. They had come from impossibly high this time.
His foe had been standing on something when launching the attack. Very
smart.

Cross repeated his firing pattern, always to the left, but either high,
middle or low. As he hoped, he slowly herded his foe eventually to the
right. It was subconscious, but logical since he was firing in the same
direction, and eventually he would get lucky if they dove that way.

The protracted fight took its toll. Cross took another cut across the
forehead and a fourth to his side, slicing deeply into flesh but missing
anything vital. He shut out the pain, like he was taught. Pain was the same
as any other feeling. Nothing more than a warning sign. You could feel hot.
You could feel cold. You could either choose to acknowledge it and react acc
ordingly, or ignore it and move on until the body overloaded and collapsed.
He'd swallow an anti-coagulant after the fight, when he had the time.

The assassin looked over the room. The fire was throughout it now,
restricting the number of avenues he could take. He had no choice but to
head to a corner, where it would be the end of him if he didn't nail his foe
in the next two shots. Perhaps they had set up a trap too, even as he did
the same to them.

He shot again, and this time a trio of shurikens headed toward him, barely
missing. And then it happened. Behind the original quarter of holes left
behind his in his initial salvo, he saw a flash of motion from the lower
two.

He aimed ahead of the flash and fired the remaining two shots in his
magazine, and found himself in the corner. There were no answering shurikens
this time. There could be only two explanations. Either his foe had run out
of ammunition, which unlikely since three had been in the last volley
instead of just one, or he had finally shot them.

Cross emptied his two remaining magazines in the area that he had fired in,
then picked his way through the fires and out the exit before he was
consumed in the flames. Still no answering attack came forth. He could have
tried entering the next room to make sure of the kill, but he didn't care.
If the foe was only wounded, and still armed, he could be walking into a
trap. Odds were higher that simply leaving the foe behind was safe, and they
wouldn't be coming after him again since they were either injured or dead.
There was no reason to confirm the kill.

After all, it was about business, not pleasure.

Xxxxxxxxxxxx

On the other side of the wall, Whisper slowly brought her communicator to
her lips, gurgling blood from her punctured lung and quickly bleeding to
death from the leg that had been severed at the hip. "Dane," she sounded
like her namesake, her voice faint and with just a hint of a rasp.

"Go on," came the response.

"I came close to nailing the Samidat. Just one more... move and he was dead.
I think I figured how he did it. I should have gone left just once more. Not
bad, coming within one move of killing a Samidat, and only luck saved him.
How many can say that?"

"Not many," came the voice. There was the sound of tired resignation, but
nothing else.

She felt everything going dark. "Guess I won't be whispering in your ear
anymore."

"That bad?"

"Oh yeah. That bad. Remember the... promise."

"Sure thing. It'll be the biggest, gaudiest mausoleum on your birthplace at
Beti Minor. Everyone on the planet will talk about it."

"Thanks." She let go then. Whisper knew she was going to die at some point,
and given her profession, sooner was more likely than later. Since in life
she had made an art of going unnoticed, she wanted to be acknowledged in
death. And a mausoleum that was three stories tall and painted in a rainbow
of swirls with three 'eternal flames' going, was sure to make people sit up
and take notice of the woman born into the galaxy as Contessa Anzia Filiono
Pontaine.

And then she died. Content, if not happy, which was more than most were
given.

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Crap!" Dane cursed as he turned off the communicator. He had one confirmed
death, and neither Hammer nor Anvil reported in when they were supposed to.
That meant they were probably dead. Stegrax hadn't reported to him in a
while either, but that wasn't a surprise. The cyborg had been constantly
disobedient, bordering on mutinous. He had been teetering at the edge of
sanity for some time, and had in reality probably gone over it. It wasn't a
surprise. He hadn't been that stable to begin with. Who in their right mind
voluntarily gave up their perfectly healthy body for that thing he had put
his brain into? It would be convenient of Stegrax died, since Dane had
considered the possibility of killing the cyborg himself, before he became a
liability on a mission.

The other three, though, they had formed the core of his team. They had
kicked ass and taken names from one side of the galaxy to the next and come
out on top every time. Replacing them with new guys as talented and reliable
as they were was going to be a major pain in the ass. He even liked them,
for the most part. Like he would a trio of favored hound dogs.

Killing Zeiram, getting the fat bonus on the side, and maybe taking out
Killgore and company, would ease Dane's heart rending torment. Well, major
annoyance might be a better word. Yes, that much money could wipe out any
amount of misery. People that claimed money couldn't buy happiness never had
enough to buy any.

"Where to, Sir?" one of the dozen security personnel backing up Dane asked.

While Dane had faith in his own abilities, and considered himself the most
skilled mercenary of his team, it never hurt to have a lot of guys with guns
backing up one's plays, at least by his estimation.

Dane was considering trying to raise Hammer and Anvil once again when from
up ahead at a 'T' junction there came the sound of heavy plodding. Dane
silently signaled the men to fan out, leaving himself to command things from
the rear of the pack, until the situation sorted itself out.

Thirteen men aimed their guns toward the sound of the slow, yet relentless
noise. A single bead of sweat came to Dane's brow. There was no question in
his mind to who this could be, the one being in the universe that could
decimate half his team without giving them a chance to warn him.

Then Stegrax's head appeared from around the corner.

"I knew it." Dane sighed in relief, bringing his weapons pod down.

The rest of the men also began to lower their weapon with the
identification.

Then the rest of Stegrax, and the creature holding him, turned the corner.
Now in full view, Dane stared in stunned silence at the sight. Zeiram had an
odd barrel-shaped container in one hand and held the upper torso of Stegrax
up and out like a shield, with the other. Pulsing veins traveling up
Stegrax's frame could be seen, as though the cyborg had formed in unholy
fusion with what was supposed to be his mortal foe. Then Dane remembered the
dossier on Zeiram that he had received from YSC mentioned his ability to
merge with nearly any weapon system that existed.

"Shit!" Dane cursed as Stegrax opened his mouth and unleashed a sonic wave.
All of the guards were sent tumbling to the floor, all save Dane, whose
absorption mesh cushioned the impact, enabling him to withstand it.

That gave him just enough time to seek a doorframe for cover as Stegrax's
left hand came up and filled the corridor with flechettes. Every man caught
in the open died under the hail of small sharp objects traveling just under
the speed of sound. Only Dane survived unharmed in his miniscule shelter.

The hail stopped, as Dane knew it would, since he was familiar with
Stegrax's weapons systems and knew it would take a full second to reload for
another volley. As Dane came out of the corner and raised his arm up, the
appropriate barrel of his pod already in place, he noted Zeiram had made a
cardinal mistake. He should have used a fatal attack as his opening move.
Now he was going to pay for it with his life.

Mind working as fast as the speed of thought could muster, Dane aimed at the
junction of Stegrax's neck. The mini-missile shot out from the launcher just
as the next round of flechettes loaded.

The missile hit, exploding before Zeiram could do anything. The detonation
threw everything below the severed neck backward, hammering into Zeiram and
knocking him off balance and dropping the large container he was carrying.
Dane followed up as a second barrel locked into position and fired. A
coruscating flow of green, blue, and yellow energies intertwined, like
snakes swept down a river clinging to one another for support, emitted from
the barrel. The trio of energies formed a single beam as they went clean
through Zeiram's front and out the back, blowing a large hole in him.

Zeiram's inhuman roar of pain was like that of hundred men as it echoed
through the labyrinth of corridors of the facility, and he fell to the
ground, writhing in torment.

Even Dane was impressed by Zeiram's resilience. He refrained from using the
Trinity Cannon a second time for two reasons. One was that he needed Zeiram
alive for just a little longer in order to catch the bonus, and the other
was because the damn thing was so powerful his weapon's pod could only hold
one shot. It would take the better part of a half hour to recharge enough so
that he could fire a second bolt.

Not that he needed it. There were other weapons at his disposal, and Zeiram
was helpless on the ground. Stationary targets were always his favorites.
Still, the green monster was durable, and it wouldn't do to underestimate
him. A little more softening up was in order.

Dane switched his weapon pod over to its laser function and began walking up
to Zeiram, firing on the move. Surprisingly, the beam had little effect,
merely scorching his outside and barely penetrating. Switching over to his
slug thrower, Dane pumped a sextet of six centimeter depleted
vanadanium-reatium core slugs into the monster. Even Zeiram's tough exterior
couldn't help him with the speeds the high density rounds struck. Each went
deep into his body, making him cry out again in pain, though much more
weakly than before. Once a spasm of twitching passed, Zeiram remained
motionless.

"Don't die on me yet, big guy, not until I get my bonus." Dane pulled out
the item that had been in the special package YSC had sent to him when first
accepting the assignment and being informed of what earning his bonus
entailed. It would nearly double his take. No, even better. With everyone
else dead, he would more than triple his normal fee. Apparently losing one's
comrades in the line of duty had a certain upside. He'd make certain to give
Whisper a really ostentatious mausoleum when the time came.

The cylindrical object looked like nothing more than a high tech syringe
with a computer display on the side to monitor the contents. Dane saw the
display indicated it was ready. He moved forward to where the gaping wound
in his chest was. It was amazing. Any normal humanoid creature would have
been dead with a hole that big in their chest cavity. Zeiram was not only
alive, but Dane could see the blood flow had slowed to a trickle and there
were signs of the wound starting to regenerate. The mercenary wagered
putting some plasma into the top of his mushroom cap and sending it down the
trunk of the body would finish it off for good.

As Dane bent down to stick the syringe in, the white face at the brim of
Zeiram's wide head suddenly came to life. It shot out from its housing, its
serpentine body connecting it to the brim as it sank its needlelike teeth
into its foe. They tore past the absorption mesh and bit deep into the meat
of his forearm. Dane cried out in pain and dropped the syringe as he began a
tug of war with the evil looking thing as it tried to cling onto him for
dear life.

Using all his strength, Dane pulled his arm out of the creature's toothy
maw, leaving behind a good chunk of his forearm in the process. As much pain
as he was in, he still had enough cognizance to be revolted as the head
swallowed the piece of flesh it had bitten off and almost seemed to laugh at
him in satisfaction

The rest of Zeiram was not idle. As Dane pulled away, the monster rolled up
into a kneeling position, displaying surprising agility for a creature his
size, especially considering the wounds he had suffered. His arm lashed out
in an arc, and Dane was just barely aware of a trio of spikes, with red
tassels on them, heading toward him.

Finely honed reflexes took over as Dane managed to dodge the first two. The
third, which had been aimed at his face, was intercepted as he brought his
weapon's pod in front of him. Hurled with Zeiram's considerable strength,
the spike pierced the outer casing of the pod and embedded itself in the
metal.

"Nice try!" Dane cried out as he aimed the plasma cannon barrel right at the
evil white head.

Then the spike exploded, taking the weapon pod with it. Dane found himself
assailed by a cloud of shrapnel. His suit absorbed some of it, but many
other pieces cut deep into his body. Worse, the white phosphorus tube in his
pod spilled its contents directly upon his face. His voice unable to reach
the inhuman pitch Zeiram's could, still rivaled the beast's earlier cry as
it was Dane's turn to roll on the ground, the phosphorous eating away at his
flesh.

Zeiram rose to his feet somewhat wobbly. He took a single step toward Dane,
then stopped as his head jerked abruptly. He turned around, picked up the
container he had been carrying, and proceeded to walk away at a high rate of
speed, his wound healing every step of the way.

Dane was unaware of Zeiram's peculiar actions. He was unaware of anything
other then whiteness of pain that his entire reality had turned into. It was
so great it refused to allow him even the relief of unconsciousness, and
instead he was left floating in a world that was composed of one thing only.

How long Dane remained in that state he could not say, time lost all
meaning. Everything lost meaning. It was an unending mobius loop of pain.
But then other things began to intrude. A gradual lessening of the pain
allowed the introduction of thought, of concepts beyond agony. Then came
awareness. He was a man, Alexander Dane. Memories. He was a mercenary, who
had fought against something and lost. Then the pain seemed to go away, with
nothing left in its wake. A numbness covered his body. It was like his flesh
had turned into several inches of rubber, desensitizing him to the world.

A deep, masculine voice said, "I loaded you up with Namadol. It'll deaden
every pain receptor in your brain, as well as most of your receptor for
motor control. But you'll be aware mentally."

Dane found his head didn't really want to move, so instead he turned his
eyes. Except only one responded. There was nothing but blackness in the
other. He saw that his salvation was the next to last person he had ever
expected to see.

"Killgore." The word came out muffled through a jaw that barely responded to
commands. It was difficult enough to make his tongue move.

"Yep. The one and only."

Since Killgore had saved him, there was a good chance he was unaware of the
actions Dane had taken to have him eliminated. He praised every god there
was the idiot security forces had failed to dispose of Killgore. "Good...
to... see... you."

Killgore seemed unimpressed. "Odd. That wasn't the attitude you had earlier
when you ordered your troops to kill us. I lost six men to those idiots.
That really pisses me off."

This was bad. "Not... true. Stupid... security... misunderstand... order."

"Save it." Killgore said in a tired voice. "I only pumped you full of
painkiller so you'd see what's coming."

"Wait!" Dane said in desperation. "We're... on... same... side. I... got...
stuff... for... bonus."

Killgore raised his heavy plasma cannon up and aimed it at Dane's face.
"Nice try, but I saw the empty unit. Right now there's only one thing you
can do for me."

"What?"

"Die." Killgore pulled the trigger, watching Dane's head vaporize in the
heat generated by the weapon. "Thanks." Killgore said, giving the remains a
mock salute.

Then Killgore felt the unmistakable touch of cold metal pressed against his
lower back. He gave a tired sigh. "There's only one person in the universe I
know who'd want to put a gun to my back yet not automatically pull the
trigger. How's it going, Sunshine?"

Iria spat on the ground, blood mingling with the saliva. Despite having
recovered somewhat from her battle with Stegrax, she still appeared worn and
exhausted. "Well, well, well, that little conversation sure was interesting.
I don't recall you mentioning anything about a bonus or empty units."

Killgore turned around to look Iria in the eye. She backed off, but kept the
gun pointed at him. "It's a time bonus. If we stop Zeiram quickly, we get
more money. But that's looking like the longest shot I've ever seen in my
life."

"What about the empty unit thing?"

"It's a minor thing I've been sworn to secrecy about, and it doesn't concern
you. I want Zeiram dead. You want Zeiram dead. YSC obviously wants him dead,
maybe more than everyone else put together." His voice instantly went from
tired to irate, as though something had snapped all at once inside him. "And
I'm tired of your pointless questions, constant paranoia, threats, and
finding a gun pointed at me every time you feel agitated and want to blow of
some steam. Either shoot me or get that damn thing out of my face."

Iria turned bright red, and the grip on her tightened to the point it made
the gun tremble. Her eyes seemed to glaze over for a brief second, and the
edge of a smile made its appearance known. Then she seemed to regain control
and holstered the gun. She turned away and walked off without another word.

Once Killgore was convinced she was well out of earshot, he released his
breath. That had been much closer than he expected.

A figure detached itself from some nearby shadows. "The little tart had no
idea how close to death she was."

"Always watching my back?" Killgore asked, flashing Cross his winning smile.

The assassin shrugged. "What can I say? I get bored easily."

As he moved fully into the lighting, Killgore noticed the bloody bandages on
his side and ankle. "You should really get those looked at."

"I took some anti-coagulants. I'm a little slow, but still lethal."

"I'm sure you are." Killgore said. Before their conversation could continue,
there was a burst of static. The mercenary brought out his communicator.
"Talk to me."

"This is Destiny. We just got a contact with a ship that put down for a
second next to the facility and took off again."

"Shit!" Killgore cursed. "Don't wait for us. Follow it and take her out."

"That might be a problem, Sir. Apparently the authorities have our ship in
their database as a mercenary company and have us detained until they can
ascertain we had nothing to do with the crash. I don't think we can shoot
our way out. Their ships look mighty big, and they have us targeted."

"Don't try it. Just let them be." He ran his hand through his hair in
frustration. "Are they at least pursuing the other ship?"

"Yes, but none of their units were in position, so it seems unlikely they'll
catch up before the ship's long gone."

"That figures. We'll be up once things get sorted out. Killgore out." He cut
the switch and there was silence.

"What do you want to do?" Cross asked.

"I'm getting sick and tired of being behind. Now that Zeiram has what he
came for, and I'm sure he does, I need more intelligence and a few answers.
I'm going to YSC headquarters and talk to Springer myself."

"Do you want me to go with you?" Cross asked.

Killgore gave him his trademark smile. "Nope, I'll probably need you to take
care of matters here."

The light of understanding dawned in Cross' eyes. "I see. Yes. Just give me
the word, and I'll take care of matters."

"Good." Killgore spat once more on Dane's corpse and headed for the nearest
exit. It was time to get some answers and solve some stick situations that
had come up in one fell swoop.

Xxxxxxxx

[End fic]





             .---Anime/Manga Fanfiction Mailing List----.
             | Administrators - ffml-admins@anifics.com |
             | Unsubscribing - ffml-request@anifics.com |
             |     Put 'unsubscribe' in the subject     |
             `---- http://ffml.anifics.com/faq.txt -----'