The Athena Operation (4 page)

As soon as Ret was out of the way of gunfire, another seythra charged toward him. Ret aimed his revolver, but the seythra tackled him to the ground and the revolver flung from Ret’s hand. The seythra slammed his fist into Ret’s jaw. Just as the seythra brought his pistol up to Ret’s head, a shotgun blast blew the seythra’s skull apart. Seraph emerged from cover and ran to Ret and found him lying on the ground, covered in black seythra blood. Seraph knelt to help Ret up, and was about to say something when he heard someone behind him cock the hammer of a gun.

Seraph heard the deep, unmistakable voice of a seythra. “Drop your gun.”

Seraph set the gun on the ground and raised his hands. Ret followed suit. The seythra advanced on them from behind. Seraph didn’t hesitate. He jumped up and pushed himself backwards, slamming his elbow into the seythra’s face. Seraph spun around and grabbed the seythra’s arm and twisted hard. The seythra cried out over the sound of his bones cracking. Seraph didn’t stop. He grabbed the seythra by the throat and squeezed with as much force as he could muster.

The seythra gagged and tried to claw at Seraph’s hands.

Seraph held the seythra in his grip far past death. Seraph eventually dropped the seythra and slumped against the wall, exhausted. The pain in his shoulder spiked.

Ret knelt beside Seraph and studied his shoulder. Fresh blood dripped from the wound and stained Seraph’s uniform. He was going to need something to stop the bleeding, and fast.

“Alright . . . here . . .” Ret draped Seraph’s left arm around himself and helped him up. “There’s got to be something inside the building that can help you.”

Seraph took his arm back, “I’m fine.” He picked up his shotgun and headed toward the rear entrance of the building. He’d push on. He’d done it before.

CHAPTER 9: FOYER

Seraph and Ret entered the building and took cover behind a large counter. The lights above them flickered and gunshots echoed around them from the floors above. The room they were in was empty. Bullet holes lined the walls and counters. Smears of blood painted the walls.

“Move up!” Seraph whispered to Ret.

They moved to the only door on the other side of the room. The door led to a landing with a staircase. Seraph couldn’t see any seythra from his position, but the gunshots were a constant reminder of their presence.

Seraph planted his shotgun firmly in his shoulder and ascended to the higher levels of the building. There were about twenty, but from what he could recollect, the seythra were primarily positioned in the middle, floors thirteen or fourteen if he had to guess. As they made their way up the stairs, Seraph returned to wondering what the hell was going on.

The seythra chose to confine their military forces to Trini 5010, their massive ship that served as their home world. Seraph figured their forces had to be coming from there; they were raining all over Vidron. There weren’t enough forces in the seythra military outpost to launch this kind of attack. Their perseverance had commanded respect, but now they were using it to destroy what they’d promised to protect so long ago. Why?

Seraph was so lost in thought that he didn’t realize they’d already reached the thirteenth floor. Ret grabbed him and pulled him below the waist-high siding of the stairs. The gunshots had grown louder and more frequent. Seraph could see a few splatters of blue blood against the white walls. Fesar had been here. His thoughts fell back to Sadhis for a moment, wondering what had become of his friend.

The door directly in front of them hadn’t opened yet, and the gunshots in the background likely meant that the seythra weren’t aware of them.

There were only two shells remaining in Seraph’s shotgun. He had one full magazine for his pistol, and a half a magazine on backup.

Seraph eyed his comrade. “How much ammo you got?”

Ret popped the chamber of his revolver open. “Six shots loaded, three spare bullets. That’s it.”

“Anything for the rifle?”

“Nothing of use. Only have a couple shots, and in these close quarters? Won’t work. Didn’t know we were this low.”

“Stay close,” Seraph said, moving toward the door.

The power died for a moment. Both Seraph and Ret froze in front of the door. As the power came back on, the door opened in front of them, revealing a narrow hallway with three doors on the right side and one door on the left. The floor split off into a T at the end of the hallway. On the far side, large windows had been shot out and broken glass decorated the ground. The walls were covered in bullet holes.

Seraph and Ret planted their backs against the wall and moved toward the first door on the right. The gunshots echoed louder and louder. As they came to the door, Seraph tightened his grip on the shotgun and charged into the room.

Seraph immediately dropped to one knee and raised the shotgun. On the other side of the room were three seythra manning machine guns mounted to the windows.

Seraph fired a shot into the back of a seythra. Ret followed up by shooting the two remaining seythra in the head at point blank range. One of the seythra fell backward through the window he’d been shooting from. Suddenly, a door to Seraph’s left snapped open with a loud ‘bang.’

Seraph turned and expelled the final shell of his shotgun, blowing the seythra in the doorway in half. Ret pushed the door closed. Bullet holes pounded the door and Ret dove to the ground. He grabbed one of the dead seythra’s shotguns and tossed it to Seraph. The counter on this one read seven shots, which Seraph hoped was more than he’d need.

Ret inched away from the door. The gunfire ceased all at once. Seraph brought his shotgun up and locked it to the door. The wall right next to the door exploded, sending dust and drywall everywhere. Neither Seraph nor Ret could see anything through the cloud of debris. Seraph fell back to take cover behind an extending portion of the wall. It was minimal cover at best, but it would have to do.

Two revolver shots rang out. Seraph guessed they were Ret's. A burst of what sounded like assault rifle followed. The cloud of dust had disappeared and Seraph darted back into the action charging forward with his shotgun aimed at the hole in the wall.

A seythra soldier had Ret by the throat and had pinned Ret’s hand pinned so that he couldn’t aim the revolver. Seraph snuck up to the seythra and slammed the butt of his shotgun into the back of the seythra’s skull. The seythra howled and loosened his grip on Ret. Ret kicked the seythra and raised his revolver to the stunned seythra’s skull. He pulled the trigger without hesitation.

In their moment of refuge, Ret used his free hand to rub his raw neck. Seraph pinned himself against the wall and cocked his shotgun, glancing around the corner and through the hole in the wall. The seythra chatter was faint.

“Where the fuck were you?” Ret coughed.

“Took cover, just like you should’ve.”

“The fuck I should-” Ret was cut short by several gunshots that sounded like they were coming from the floor above.

Seraph raised the shotgun again. “We need to move.”,

Ret reluctantly followed him.

Seraph and Ret moved into the next room. Seraph swept the whole room but found nothing besides a bunch of scattered tables and debris.

Seraph motioned for Ret to move out.

They stepped into the hallway and immediately heard gunfire. Ret and Seraph retreated back into the room and dove to the floor for cover. From what Seraph had seen, there was a small group of seythra in the room directly across from them. The gunfire ceased for a moment, and Seraph popped out of cover.

Seraph fired his gun into the wall across from him twice. Ret nudged Seraph and made a motion with his hands, indicating that he was going to go back through the hole in the wall and circle around to try and get the jump on the seythra. Seraph nodded to Ret and waited for the next break in gunfire.

Ret moved through the hole swiftly, revolver cocked and aimed. He planted his back against the wall next to the doorway. He ducked and rolled into the hallway and charged into the adjacent room.

Ret fired at the only seythra in his view, a large female. The bullet opened her chest, and she slumped to the ground, dead. Ret could hear shotgun blasts close by.
Seraph must be doing some damage
, Ret thought. Just as Ret was about to move again, a bullet grazed his left arm. He cried out and fell to the floor. He could hear another wave of shotgun blasts, but this time, they were accompanied by handgun fire and what sounded like suppressed rifle fire. After a moment, most of the gunfire ceased. Ret eased up and aimed his revolver through a hole in the wall. He skimmed over the scattered seythra corpses.

Seraph was standing in the doorway, along with two othal. One of the othal was wearing a security uniform, stained black with the blood of battles past. He was holding a pistol, his hands slightly shaking. The other othal had a nasty scar running over of the left side of his face, through a blind eye. He was wearing a dirty, beaten piece of armor over his chest. His elbows and knees had protective pads, beaten just as badly. Half of his little finger on his left hand was gone, though it wasn’t a fresh wound.

Othal were a predominantly diplomatic species, but Ret thought that these two looked anything but. With the seythra attacking, diplomacy was coming in the form of bullets and plasma.

Ret turned to Seraph. “Who the hell are they?” Ret noticed blood dripping from his bullet wound. He tore the uniform off one of the seythra and begin wrapping it around his arm.

“I’m not entirely sure.” Seraph motioned to the two othal. “They helped, though. They’re with us.”

The othal wearing the security uniform turned to Ret. “I’m Jirani. Jirani Lhim, I’m a security guard at the Million Armory down the road. I was just getting ready to finish my night shift, and all of this . . . this shit happened. I need to get to the west area of Koss; my family’s there.”

The other othal scoffed. “Good luck with that. I just came from there.” His voice was low and harsh. “It’s wrecked. Your family’s dead, and your best chance of surviving is sticking with us. I’m Drever. Just Drever.” He moved to scavenge ammo from the dead seythra.

Jirani glared at him. “Don’t you dare say that. They’re alive; I know it.”

“Whatever you need to tell yourself, kid.” Drever pulled two magazines from a dead seythra’s belt.

Ret glanced back and forth between the two othal. “So, you two, uh, know each other?”

Drever grunted. “If by ‘know’ you mean spent a few hours fighting together, then yeah. Otherwise, no. He’s not the type of person I’d pal around with.”

“Why are you here? Why did you help us? Are the top floors secure?” Seraph asked.

“Same reason everyone’s out there on the streets with guns,” Drever said. “Same reason kids and priests are taking up arms. The seythra are attacking, and anyone who wants to stay alive has to fight.”

“And the top floors are clear, we came from there,” Jirani added. “We actually had one drop his gun and beg. He started going on about how the others made him come. He started crying. Then, all of a sudden, he picked up his gun and fired.”

“This whole thing is fucked,” Seraph said.

Ret and Drever grabbed what ammo they could, and Seraph propped himself up against a broken dresser.

Jirani pulled a shot of aceso from a small pack on his waist. It was a standard issue, one-time use syringe that would ease the pain and help seal the wound. He walked over to Seraph. “You look like you could use this,” he said. Seraph nodded and Jirani injected the aceso into the area around Seraph’s wound.

Seraph winced, and closed his eyes as the aceso entered his bloodstream. The area went warm, then faded to numbness. Seraph moved his arm around and found his mobility improved. His aim would be the better for it.

Seraph nodded to Jirani. “Thanks.”

“It’s no problem.” Jirani tossed the needle onto the ground.

“What are you two? Confederate Military?” Drever asked.

Seraph nodded.

“Going to be,” Ret said. “I was just wrapping up my last week of basic. What about you?”

“Not military. Mercenary,” Drever stared back at Seraph. “So, what’s your plan?”

“We’re trying to reach the military rendezvous. We need to see what the military’s orders are, and how we’re being organized.” Seraph got down from the desk and began to load shells that Ret found into his shotgun.

Drever scoffed. “Fuck that, we need to get the hell out of here. This is a war zone. You’d be lucky to make it a quarter to whatever rendezvous before being shot down. This whole city’s going to be rubble within the day. You’ll never make it.”

Seraph stared him down. “This is Vidron, home of the Confederate Military force and the Confederate Chamber. We just need to get the other military outposts to rally their troops and help push the seythra back.” Seraph loaded the final shell into the shotgun and cocked it.

“No fuckin’ way. First, this isn’t the only place this is happening. The seythra are hitting every goddamn military outpost, that’s why Vidron’s the first hit; they know the military power is here. They’re systematically disabling our defenses. Even if they weren’t, it’d be a fuckin’ suicide run trying to get there. No, we need to get the fuck off of this planet and worry about surviving.”

Ret dismissed him. “We have to at least try. The Chamber may be there. We need to fix priority on getting them to safety.”

“No, not anymore.” Drever stared at Ret dead in the eyes. “You’re just a survivor. We all are. Who we were doesn’t matter. The Chamber is just three people. They're not worth saving. Our only goal is to make it to tomorrow. Think any differently, and you’re going to get killed. I guarantee that much.”

Seraph wanted to be like Ret, to push on even though it looked bleak. But Drever’s words rang true to him. Seraph was, after all, a survivor above all else.