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Fal’ran fired on instinct, and the glass tips of two rounds shattered on the Insect’s carapace. The Insect reacted immediately, flinging himself at Fal’ran, his mandibles gnashing, screaming, and hissing. The sound and smell of the manufactured acid sizzling into the Insect’s armor filled the small room and Fal’ran choked on the pungent odor.
“Fal’ran! Out!” Patrick slammed his shoulder into the Insect’s other side, throwing him off balance enough for Fal’ran to dodge under his arm and make for the door. He stepped on something hard that slipped out from under him and he looked down to see Patrick’s rifle, broken in two with both its broken edges disintegrating under the green acid.
Fal’ran flew out the door. He looked back to check for Patrick and saw the human with his gatlung off his back and in his hands and the Soldier breathing down his neck. Despite the Soldier’s screams, the rounds in his side hadn’t slowed him. He chased them out into the street, gaining fast, before a rifle shot cracked through the air and the Insect’s head snapped back.
The Soldier sank to the ground, his huge mandibles twitching spastically.
“That would be Bar’in.” Patrick grinned as he and Fal’ran ran back down the road, toward the Insect infection and their squad mates. “Alright, Soldier down, new plan. Get the team, get out, get this information to Base Givast.”
They threw themselves against the nearest wall at the sound of an energy weapon’s whine before realizing it echoed from down the street.
“What happened to finding out where they’re coming from?” Fal’ran scanned the buildings for a shielded route to the gunfire.
“Too risky now.” Patrick ripped his hand away from the reaching cilia. “We can’t fight them on their own turf like this. We’re blind and they’re omniscient.”
“Then let’s go get our people out.” Fal’ran ran across the open street and into another half-demolished building, threading between collapsed walls and roofs and trusting his instincts to get him to the sound of gunfire. “Shit!” Energy rounds pelted in the ground in front of him, sending up a plume of melting dust. “Can’t fucking move in here.”
Patrick yanked him under the cover of a fallen roof. Bristling Insect growths rippled out from their bodies, carrying the knowledge of their latest location to god knew where.
“Squad M!” Patrick yelled toward the sound of rifle fire. “Status!”
“Here!” Bar’in yelled back during a pause in the gunfire. “All three of us. Uninjured. But we’re pinned down, we can’t—fuck—” Rifles fired, and an Insect shrieked. “They’ve got reinforcements.”
“Alright.” Patrick dropped his pack to the ground and rolled his shoulders. “I’ll draw them off.”
It took a full second for Patrick’s words to penetrate Fal’ran’s rapid fire thoughts. When they did, he nearly threw up his own stomach. He seized Patrick’s forearm. “What are you talking about?”
“We’re outnumbered and outmaneuvered.” Patrick held Fal’ran’s eyes and spoke sternly, urgently, calmly. “The only way you get yourself, Bar’in, Tar, and Sazahk out of here is if I pull enough of them in the opposite direction.”
Fal’ran yanked on Patrick’s arm when he pulled away. “And what about you?” He shook him. “How do you get out of here?”
“One thing at a time.” Patrick gave him that boyish half grin that made his blue eyes sparkle and Fal’ran wanted to scream.
“Patrick.” Fal’ran couldn’t let go. He wouldn’t. The fight wasn’t over. They weren’t done. They had each other and a gun and a gatlung. They were more than a match for a handful of fucking bugs.
“Fal’ran.” Patrick winced as more energy weapons fired and a scream that sounded too much like Sazahk echoed down the alley.
“Patrick, don’t do this.”
He grabbed Fal’ran’s fingers and pried them off.
No, no, no, Fal’ran couldn’t—
“Get them out.” Patrick squeezed Fal’ran’s hand and ran into the street. He charged down the road, dragging his gatlung through writhing cilia.
“Patrick!” Fal’ran started after him, his every instinct urging him to give chase, to stand next to him, to protect him, to fight with him. “Fuck!”
His team needed him. His team needed him, and Patrick risked his own life because he trusted Fal’ran to make the risk worth it.
With a howl of frustration, Fal’ran sprinted out from under cover. He had to move fast. He had to spring his teammates. He had to mop up the Insects pinning them down. And he had to go after the goddamn stubborn love of his goddamn life.
He heard Patrick shouting, taunting, as he headed toward the center of the Insect infection. The rapid fire of Klah’Eel rifles followed, and Bar’in swearing. Fal’ran barreled around a corner and skidded to a stop at the mass of black forms swarming in front of him. There were no more than twenty, but they skittered over rocks and debris, hissing and chittering and looking like so many more than that.
That all had their backs to Fal’ran, looking toward Patrick’s hollering. Some crouched low and tangled their long antennae with the bristles on the ground. Others stood beside the wall, their antennae brushing against the cilia.
As Fal’ran watched in horror, the bulk of the swarm rushed in Patrick’s direction. So many of them. Too many of them. Fal’ran almost gave chase, needing to catch them before they caught Patrick. But a handful remained to finish off Fal’ran’s squad, and Fal’ran couldn’t let them.
As soon as the horde disappeared around the corner, Fal’ran opened fire. He dropped two instantly, Dom’s rounds piercing and bursting in their carapaces and sending them to the ground, twitching and screaming. Bar’in’s muzzle appeared over the edge of the roof and after a split second and a bang, a third fell dead.
