Air Support

“Is your buddy okay?”  The cyborg stood, wreathed in heat-shimmer but otherwise seemingly intact.  He leaned, trying to lift a foot.  Ash risked a glance at Skitters’ crumpled body.  The candy red chest plate of Skitters’ armor rose and fell.

“Uh, yeah,” Ash said.  “I think he’ll be okay.”

“You guys never answered my question.”

“What question?”

“Do I need to kill you all?”  Ash flinched. 

“You can’t!”  Ash started making overly complex hand gestures again.

“Your point man is down.  Air support is… two minutes out?”  Ash flinched at that.  How’d he know about Riddle?  The cyborg kept going.  “The scout.  Team psychic, maybe?  He’s out.  Does my gun work again?”  The cyborg pulled out his remaining railgun.  “What do you think, magic man?”  The cyborg took aim.  Ash started muttering non-words.  “I could just throw the damned thing at you.”  Ash swept both hands upward.  The air crackled, the sound of an unseen fireworks display.  Ice crystals formed out of nowhere, solidifying into a wall between Ash and the cyborg. 

Radio silence no longer mattered.  Ash keyed his mike.  “Riddle, light this fucker up.”  He heard the boom of railgun fire from the other side of the ice wall.  It held.  Ash moved to Skitters’ side.  His armor had kept him in one piece, but the fall had left him in a bad way.  He’d heal.  Anything that didn’t kill him outright, he’d come back from.  He just needed time that they didn’t have.

+ + +

Riddle’s radio crackled to life.  That was never, ever a good sign.  “Riddle, light this fucker up!”  Ash.  He sounded worried.  She goosed the throttle.  She had been a couple of minutes a way at cruising speed, but the entire reason for being a skycycle jockey was speed. She goosed the throttle.

“Don’t do it, Riddle.”  An unfamiliar voice. Probably the target.

“Shut up!”  Ash again, along with railgun fire.

“Hey man, if she’s bringing missiles, you’re all dead.” 

“Ash, can you get everyone out?” Riddle broke her own silence.

“He can save himself,” the target chimed in again.  “If you engage, I’ll probably try to kill you, Riddle.”  Forty-five seconds to firing range.  “Thirty seconds, pilot.”  Riddle flinched at that last.  The borg either had radar or drone support.  Maybe both. 

+ + +

Eddie grinned to himself.  It wasn’t as good as the thing with the evil wizard, and the Network would probably be mad that he hadn’t just gone for the kill, but not every interaction could be world-shattering.  The third arm was already useful, and having the UAV paid off in spades.  He swiveled his upper right arm to cover the skycycle’s approach.  Eddie made a mental note to start carrying things he could throw that weren’t his guns.  He couldn’t cover the mage and the incoming airstrike with only one.  It wasn’t a real problem yet; Ash probably couldn’t see through his own wall of ice.