Chapter 8

Alba – Tayari Plaza, nine hours after slip-space rupture.

Alba heard the shot while she was searching one of the cramped rooms in the Human structure, the telltale sound of a needle rifle echoing through the corridors. She rushed to the source of the gunshot as more followed it, her carbine at the ready. When she pushed her way through one of the narrow doorways, she found one of the Kig-yar firing out of a window that overlooked the street below, his fellow Jackals rushing to get into position. One of them leapt out of a nearby window, making his way down to the street below, another perching on a balcony as he fired into the vehicles that clogged the road.

“What’s happening?” Alba demanded, not making any attempt to hide her displeasure. The damned Jackals were so bloodthirsty, they never stopped to think about what they were doing.

“Human below,” the alien replied, keeping his scope on his target. The weapon kicked back against his shoulder as he popped off a couple more rounds, the barrel of his rifle flashing with pink residue.

“So you took the first shot, and missed?” she snarled. “If you had alerted me, we could all have fired on it at once. Use your tiny bird brain next time you want to bag yourself a prize. How many?”

“One in sight,” the Kig-yar replied, “an Imp.”

“An Imp?” Alba repeated, her brow furrowing. “What were you thinking? Imps are shock troopers, they work in packs. Where there is one, there will be more. Keep the pressure on it, make sure it doesn’t escape. It may have already called in its packmates.”

She heard the patter of feet behind her, turning to see the trio of Unggoy waiting nervously in the doorway.

“Captain?” one of them asked, “what’s happening?”

“Head down to the street below and drive the Imp from cover,” she replied with a commanding wave of her hand.

“A-an Imp!?” one of them exclaimed in its shrill voice.

“Yes, an Imp. Flush it out into the open, do not delay!”

The squat aliens exchanged alarmed glances, but they did as she asked, hurrying towards the stairwell that led down to the entrance. Damn those Jackals, they should have coordinated with their team. Imps were not the lightly armored, inexperienced soldiers that made up the bulk of the Human forces. They were second only to the dreaded Demons, equipped with advanced armor and equipment. More than that, they were hardened soldiers, easily a match for lower-ranked Jiralhanae and Sangheili in a firefight.

She was distracted by the muffled chatter of a Human weapon, the Kig-yar at the window snarling.

“It killed one of ours,” he muttered, snapping his jaws as he loosed more shots.

“Where is it now?” Alba demanded. She didn’t want to get close to the windows, she had seen what the large-caliber rifles that the Humans wielded could do, they punched through shields and armor alike with the ease of a bayonet through a ripe fruit.

“I can’t see it anymore,” the Jackal replied, “it moved to the far end of the-”

His head snapped back as a pink needle embedded itself deep into his skull, the Kig-yar swaying for a moment, dead before his body had even hit the ground. The Imp had recovered the needle rifle from the felled Kig-yar that had moved down to the street, they were resourceful little bastards. The Sangheili wouldn’t even touch a Human weapon, as if they were worried that the heresy might somehow rub off on them, but she had seen Humans pick up everything from plasma pistols to fuel rod cannons.