Written in 365 Parts: 65: Close Combat

Drick had left the gravitational compensators on the suit turned high but not at maximum to resist some of the acceleration of the fall. The overlay that was being relayed from Rodero indicated that there were five organics in the elevator compartment. Drick was guessing that it would be four of the best security guards and the target.

The elevator was originally forty metres down but Drick was falling at greater than double the speed it was moving. When Drick was fewer than ten metres from the top of the vehicle they indicated to Boomer’s team to make their move.

There was a second in which Drick was almost at the roof and then the lights went out in the shaft and the elevator below came to an emergency stop. Drick had been expecting it and had already fired a shot at the maintenance hatchway on the elevators rooftop. The shot was set to soft with maximum force. It easily punched the slim lock open and half tore the hatchway from the ceiling of the lift.

Drick dropped neatly through the hole as the emergency lighting started to flicker into life. Drick had been correct there were four heavily armed and suited guards. The armour was a much more restrictive version of the suit that Drick was wearing. It more closely resembled harsh atmosphere combat radiation suits than battle dress. There were multiple hard points and weapons mounts on the exterior surface, and doubtless there were many enhancements with augmentation on the inside. 

The guards all carried heavy blaster, short barrel, rifles. Blaster rifles, effectively plasma ejectors, were effective weapons for short range devetstation or long range precision burning. They were messy for crowd control, and in the tight confines of the elevator they were impractical. Drick wasn’t going to let any of the guards use the rifles and they would not have the time, if Drick had their way, to draw any other weapon.

The first guard fell instantly as Drick had re-keyed the shotgun to highest impact, maximum hardness, full power. Drick stuck the gun under the base of their helmet and fired. The recoil, even with the magnetic compensation and pressure nullifying mechanism in the stock, almost tore Drick’s arm off. The guard was much less fortunate. The blast lifted them bodily from the ground and thrust their head back with enough force that it snapped their neck with their own skull. There was a tearing and ripping sound that accompanied the brutal snap and blood sprayed over the inside of their visor plate.

Drick hadn’t even bothered to watch as they were already swinging the shotgun straight into the visor of the guard immediately to the right of the first one. Another shot at maximum force which at point blank range tore through the faceplate and exploded the guards head as if it were a ripe melon.

Drick dropped into a set of splits as the two other guards, who were now behind them, moved around Drick’s quarry. The guards were dropping their rifles and drawing hand lasers and a monofilament sword each. 

The guards’ hands never got the weapons from holsters as Drick had primed forearm ejectors with mini-engineers cutters. A single thought activated the high-intensity gas ejection torches that Drick had set to armour cutting. Drick knew that the gas would be consumed in less than two seconds, but that was adequate time for the cutters to tear a hole fist sized through the groin section of the suits and into the lower stomach of the guards inside. They both screamed in a horrible manner as their intestines cooked in seconds. They fell sideways and were dead or dying before they reached the floor.

Drick was still moving as in the same fluid motion that started with dropping into this confined space. They had rolled backwards, bringing their legs together, tucking them neatly into a ball and then thrusting upwards into a handstand. The kick was aimed at the stomach and chin of the organic target. The creature responsible for the hit set upon Drick in the Spaceport. Drick suspected that they also had some influence over the events that had transpired at Judicial central.

Drick’s kick knocked them backwards. They were presenting as a large male with expensive clothes and too much jewelry on their hands and ankles. A tiny bit of research from contacts with the Union had provided the useful info about their manner and Drick would be using that to the best advantage. Drick flipped onto their feet coming upwards to face the organic who looked up winded but with a face twisted into a snarl. 

“Do you know who I am?” the target screamed in a voice thick with anger and pain.

“I bet that’s not the only dumb thing you’re going to say to me today,” Drick replied.

You may also like...

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.