Or something, I thought. So, I was looking for a skinny male of unknown species who liked to dress like a princess. Based on what I’d seen so far, I didn’t think I’d have any trouble finding someone dressed like he had all the money in the world.
“He sounds like a typical slaver,” Beatrix scoffed. “They are weak, which is why they use intimidation to control others. I will take great pleasure in showing him what his internal organs look like.”
I paused the team for a moment and tried to get my bearings. The streets—or the places streets might have once been—were little more than twisted, cluttered, winding dirt paths choked with waste, both mechanical and biological. We had to watch our step to avoid twisting an ankle or stepping in excrement. More than once, I heard an Ish-Nul curse under their breath. It was followed by the sound of a leather boot scraping against a conveniently placed shit-scraping surface.
The crack and hum of a magnetic firearm caused us to duck and me to draw Ebon half way from its sheath. Everyone else on the street ducked, too, and took cover inside nearby buildings or by climbing into dark tangles of wires, pipes, and sheet metal.
I couldn’t see who was shooting or what their intended target was.
Nyna and I took cover behind a pillar that went to nowhere, which was twice as wide as my shoulders but reached only a few inches above them. Beatrix was taking cover behind a nearby building and had her tentacles woven into a tight braid. It was exactly like she’d done in the arena, and it brought back exciting memories of the first time we’d met. She was splitting her attention between peeking around the corner to see what our enemy might be up to, and what I was doing.
She’s waiting for a signal, I realized. She learns fast.
“That sounded close,” Nyna whispered. “A few dozen yards, maybe. Was that intended for us? Is someone trying to kill us?”
I didn’t think so, but I also didn’t want to have a conversation about it, so I motioned for her to be quiet. Timo-Ran was behind a similar yet shorter pillar. He glanced my direction, then peeked over the top of his pillar when another shot went off and caused him to duck again.
The rest of the Ish-Nul were behind him taking cover, sort of. Tila and Neb-Ka had gotten themselves tangled together behind a low pile of scrap that would barely provide enough cover for one of them.
The next time Timo-Ran looked my direction, I motioned back toward the two Ish-Nul behind him. He turned his head, looked back to me and nodded. I could practically hear the groan in his expression. Welcome to leadership, I thought. Protecting your troops is all part of the job.
Timo-Ran kept one hand on the pillar he was taking cover behind to keep himself from straying too far. “Hey,” he hissed, “hey!” Tila and Neb-Ka only managed to fight harder over the limited cover they’d found. I realized they hadn’t heard him at all, and he seemed to realize it too when he lifted his eyes to me, a worried expression on his face. Another shot, this one closer, caused Timo-Ran to duck and tuck himself close to his pole again. Tila and Neb-Ka struggled even more fiercely, and they began whispering harsh-sounding words at each other. I’d seen enough.
Neb-Ka was twice Tila’s size. He should have seen it himself, left her there, and found better cover. Even if he were there alone, he wouldn’t be able to move without exposing himself. Now, both Ish-Nul were at risk. It only took me a moment to search for, find, and visually verify where he should be. It was time to move.
“Stay here,” I said to Nyna. She gave me a look that told me she thought I was crazy to suggest she would do anything but stay nice and safe behind cover. I ignored her, drew my pistol, and pointed it toward where I’d heard the gunfire last. Then, I got up and strode across the street, gun held steady, Ebon still in its sheath.
I got to Neb-Ka in three strides. He looked up at me a second before I grabbed a handful of his leather shirt and lifted him off the ground like a sack of groceries. Tila sneered at the man as I backed away toward the cover he should have taken. For a second, I was afraid she was going to kick him in the nuts.
“Took care of a guard who had a bead on one of you,” Reaver said through the comm. “Looks like he was alone. He was drunk, or high, or something. And now, I have a rifle.”
“Nice,” I replied.
A few seconds later, I stood Neb-Ka up behind a heavy metal door, the only part left standing of a building that should have been torn down years ago. I planted him on his feet, none too nicely, and got right in his face.
“Your job is not to save your own ass,” I growled, using the most intimidating voice I could muster. “Lesson one: your job is to save everyone else’s ass. Our job is to save yours. That’s the last time you get that lesson. If it’s your day to die, then it’s your day to die. Same with me. Same with our enemy. You get me?”
He nodded, and the look in his eye was far from angry, offended, or hurt. It was shame. Good. Shame was self-directed. Shame was recognition he’d screwed up. Shame would drive him forward. It would be a lesson harsher than anything I could inflict on him.
“Lesson two is this: our objective isn’t to die for our cause. It’s to make our enemy die for his.”
His expression began to change from shame, to confusion, to a grim smile that made him look like a feral cat. It was perfect. I gave him a mostly friendly slap on his shoulder.
