Deviance of Time by O'Brien Dan

Author:O'Brien, Dan [O'Brien, Dan]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Published: 2012-03-31T16:00:00+00:00

“Justice, much like everything of man, is both in the eye of the beholder as well as a matter of timing and circumstance. If evil were to win today, then what was once good would be evil and what we consider evil would be the righteous.”

-Musings of Napoleon Bel’tara

She could feel the rush of air through her armor, the oppressive force of wind slamming against her speeding frame. Vaughn was motionless against her, his eyes squinted closed – lips dry and drawn from the streaming winds that assaulted him.

They flew by buildings and trees.

“Computer, engage field analysis and thermal scans. Deploy position matrix and homing scans.” The veins of Mela’s neck protruded, her voice pushed to its limit.

“Acknowledged. Deploying scans and position matrix. Impact imminent at twenty-five meters,” rattled off the female, computerized voice.

A pristine building screamed into view, the fluorescent colors of the elegant sign and the lights pulsing. Mela rolled as her internal scanners flashed bright red and felt her shoulder slam into the cornerstone of the building, sending her trajectory off tilt into a violent spiral, the ground a swirling mass steadily coming into view. She fired her posterior thrusters and gravity pulled on their mortal frames, their hearts being squeezed by the pressure of the maneuver.

“Several thermal units approaching from the south, closing in at approximately sixty kilometers per second. Estimated time of attack less than three seconds.”

“Activate arm cannon and multiple target array. Bring shields to maximum capacity and lower internal temperature.” Mela could hear the computer networking and attempting to facilitate her request.

In the distance, the steady hum of the pursuing crafts shook the earth and spiked the thermal tracker situated along her visor. “Commander Vaughn, you will be best suited to sit this particular engagement out, the risk of your being killed in this volley of fire is quite high.”

She lowered her thrusters and landed atop one of the smaller buildings, the afterburner charring the metal and flashing sparks all about the landing. The mists of heat in the distance grew, and the shaky visages of the approaching enemy crafts emerged along the horizon. “Wait here. I will retrieve you once I have dispatched the ships.”

“Proximity warning. Attack imminent.” The visor rolled from a light bluish screen to red; a green matrix marked off the incoming vessels, their approach approximated in meters until impact. “Attacker has breached final defenses, attack is now unavoidable.”

“I’m not blind you know,” barked Starhawk at the computer, knowing full well that it was devoid of both emotion and sarcasm.

“I am merely attempting to convey the state of your situation,” replied the automated tone without inflection.

“Never mind. Disengage response protocol. The last thing I need is you in my ear,” Mela muttered.

“Understood. Response protocol disengaged.”

The computer’s voice went silent. The humming of the approaching engines grew exponentially, and their silvery hulls became recognizable within Mela’s natural range of vision.

“Activate plasma blades, dual-edged, both arms.” The computer responded with a series of whirs, and deep-blue blades erupted from each arm, one along the palm and the other along the top of the hand.

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