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The thing looked at him for a moment, cocking its head to the side and then raised the sword for a blow he knew he could neither dodge nor block.

“Not so,” Bast said, striking from the thing’s unprotected side.

The monster moved faster than the eye could see, but the blow from the light saber still opened up a gash on its ribs, cutting through the mail that armored it like tinfoil. The thing leapt backward again, considering its new foe.

“Go to Rachel,” Bast said. “This one is mine.”

Herzer didn’t even nod, just started running.

* * *

“Quit struggling, bitch!” Conner shouted, dragging Rachel closer and grabbing her by the hair, then slapping her on the side of the head.

Rachel saw stars for a moment and then shook her head, trying to clear it. Suddenly, Conner had her in a chokehold and a knife had appeared in his hand.

“Take one step closer and she dies.”

* * *

Herzer tossed the sword in the air, weighing his chances. The man was much larger than Rachel and although he was trying to use her as a shield there was a fair amount in the open. And Herzer was pretty good at throwing a sword. Pretty good.

“Don’t try it,” the man said. “You’re not that good. I know.”

“You’re… Conner,” Herzer said, quietly. Rachel’s face was frightened but set, her hands clasped to her breast.

“Yes, and that means you know I won’t hesitate to kill her,” Conner replied. “Take one step closer and she dies right in front of your eyes.”

“Take one step back and I’ll take the chance,” Herzer said. “I won’t have her disappear.”

“We’re both going to disappear,” Conner laughed. “I can port out at any time.”

If you could teleport, you would have already,” Herzer replied, pointedly not watching Rachel. “Leave her and you can go free.”

“No chance,” Conner said, stepping back and dragging at Rachel.

“Conner,” Herzer said, conversationally. “There’s something you really need to know.”

“What?” Conner said, suspiciously.

“I’m not the one you should be afraid of,” Herzer said, gesturing with the sword over Conner’s shoulder.

“Don’t give me that,” Conner said, taking a step back. “That’s the oldest trick in the…”

* * *

Rachel felt herself thrown forward as sixty kilos of enraged housecat landed on the agent’s back. Conner let out a scream and stabbed backwards with his knife but Rachel was nearly as fast. The scalpel came out and stabbed downward with the precision of a wasp killing a spider. It withdrew from his leg in a fountain of arterial blood.

“That was your femoral artery,” she said in a light tone. “And femoral nerve, which is why you’re experiencing so much pain at the moment.” She stepped forward and looked at the staggering agent for a moment, and then drove the scalpel into his stomach and upward.

“That will have gotten your liver along with various blood vessels,” she added, conversationally, as the agent finally fell to his knees and then face, the cat continuing to rake his back with hind-claws. Azure finally shifted the grip of his jaws and closed them on the agent’s neck with a snap of something breaking.

“That would have been your trachea,” Rachel added calmly. “So in my professional medical opinion, you’re going to die of lack of respiration before you bleed to death.”

* * *

When the prey was finally still Azure lifted his muzzle from the agent’s neck and mewed at his human.

“Good kitty,” Rachel said, rubbing him on the bottom of his bloody jowls. “Good kitty…”

* * *

“This is a bit hot,” General Lepheimer said, looking down at the mass of orcs that were swarming First Legion’s hastily formed parapet.

“Yes, it is,” Edmund said, pulling out his watch and then looking up at the sun. “Wouldn’t you say it’s just before noon?”

“About that,” the First Legion commander replied. “I mean, there’s quite a lot of them.”

“Yes, there are,” Edmund replied. The main mass of the orcs from the portal had hit the parapet like a wave and the rest had joined in since trying to attack their own former defenses didn’t seem to be working. If there was any control over the battle on the New Destiny side it was not apparent.

“The archers are getting tired,” Lepheimer pointed out. “And we’re rather severely outnumbered.”

“That we are,” Edmund agreed.

“And they’re pressing around to the right flank,” General Lepheimer continued, pointing towards the end of the ridge where orcs could be seen spreading out and heading up the grass covered hill.

“Yep,” Edmund said.

“General, why are you so… calm about that?”

“Hold it,” Edmund said, glancing to the east then taking off his helmet. He lay down on the parapet and pressed his ear against the wood then smiled. “Oh, well,” he said, standing back up and brushing off his armor, “close enough for government work.”

“What?” Lepheimer asked as he handed back the helmet.

“You hear it?” Edmund said, smiling.

“No?” the general said, clearly out of his depth. Then over the sound of the battle he did here it. Or, rather, feel it. A rumbling in the ground. “What the hell is that?”

“That,” Edmund said, turning and pointing to the right flank.

Over the hill a tide of horsemen appeared, long lances shining in the sun. They didn’t even stop their canter, simply dressed ranks on the move, locked in knee to knee and sped into a gallop as the long lances lowered to the attack and a great cry rose from six thousand throats.

“KENTIA!”

“Make signal to both legions,” Edmund said, buckling his helmet. “Advance to attack.”

Epilogue

“How long has this been going on?” Edmund asked, as Bast and the big… thing separated.

“Couple of hours,” Herzer said.

“You know there’s a battle going on, right?” Edmund asked.

“Couldn’t be that important if you’re here,” Herzer pointed out. “Hey, Kane, glad you could join in the fun.”

“Fun,” Kane said. “I just rode damned near two thousand klicks. I’m not sure I can dismount.”

“Well, it’s the journey that counts, right?” Herzer said.

“Gunny Rutherford bought it,” Edmund said as Bast flashed in and out, stinging the thing and opening up another rent in its tattered armor.

“I’m sorry,” Herzer said, quietly.

“Holding the line while the parapet was being finished.”

“It’s how he would have wanted to go,” Herzer said with a shrug. The elf-thing managed to tag Bast, hard and she backed away, favoring her arm.

“Bullshit,” Edmund growled. “He wanted to die from a stroke while lying in a hammock being fellated by a sixteen-year-old redhead named Tracy.”

Herzer thought about that for a long time and then looked at Edmund for the first time since he’d arrived.

“Why Tracy?” he asked.

“I have no idea,” Edmund replied. “He was pretty drunk when he told me that. But it’s the sort of thing that sticks in your mind. And I never worked up the balls to ask him. I wish now that I had.”