Chapter weapons and prisoners
“So we’ve got three of their rail mortars, one tank, and quite a few of their hand weapons.”
Eldon grinned as Lyle paused. Yeah, this next is going to bother the guys with all the ribbons and medals and stuff. And the guys in the classy suits.
“And three Cyborg soldiers.”
Whoops, did I fail to mention Horus’s three friends? Well, no need to rat them out to the people here.
“One of the Cys,” the ribbon guys frowned at Eldon, “deliberately bumped the shooter and made him miss one of the specials. He may be trying to fight the cyborg conditioning, and could be really helpful. The other two, well, I scooped them up while they were ready to shoot, so perhaps I should take them out of the bubble way out there, so we can disarm them before we question them.”
Lyle nodded. “Some of their weapons my be incorporated in those robot arms. We may need to partially dismantle the arm, before we can safely do much else with them.”
The ribbon guys frowned at that. The one with the three stars on his collar looked over at Lyons, who nodded.
“We’ll deal with them, get them disarmed, even if we have to,” nasty smile, “dis-arm them.”
“Let’s do as little damage as possible, Lyons. We don’t want to start a war.” Glower. “Even if you did aid a local in blowing up an ammo bunker.”
And theft and kidnapping . . .
“We can gain a lot of information about these Cyborgs. And leave them strictly alone, until and unless they attack us.” Lyle wasn’t in their chain of command, but he was still pretty respectful. “And so we’ll recognize what’s happening and respond in a useful fashion if they do contact or attack us.”
Narrowed eyes. “Yes. That’s why we sent the SF team in. Very well, we’ll get every bit of useful information out of them and their equipment that we can.”
Eldon ignored all the formalities and agreeing and formal orders and so forth. The important bits were that the special guys and Lyle were all assigned to the job. He also ignored the frowns coming his way.
I don’t care about frowns, but breaking in new guys? Ugh. Very glad to skip that part.
The meeting broke up with salutes and dismissals, and Eldon slid out the door and headed off to the doors to the experimental area. As expected, everyone he knew headed there as well.
“So, what’s first?” Eldon looked around. “Shall I bring out the tank and mortars first? Your techs can have fun with them, then we’ll sort out the Cys.”
Lyons nodded, Lyle nodded.
Colonel Vickers led them outside to this thing the called an APV, that would hold them all. “So we’ll drop the mortars and tank off at the most distant spot we’ve got electricity. Then somewhere else to deal with the three Cyborgs.”
The distant spot was a metal garage, with a large area with camo netting on tall poles and draping all sides. No body home.
“I’m . . . not going to confuse the techs with dimensional complications. It’s their job to figure out how it works, not how it got here.”
Eldon grinned and popped the three mortar bubbles, then the tank at the end of the line. “You going to tell them it was Space Aliens?”
“Nope. Not their jobs.”
“Heh. Well, you probably ought to tell them this things were rumored to run on ‘broadcast power’ whatever the hell that is.”
Vickers nodded. “Whatever the hell that is. Lets load back up, we’re going to deal with the Cyborgs a bit closer to medical care, in case we need it.”
“Closer to medical care” was another metal building. Maybe sixty feet by thirty. One end sported three hospital style beds a pissed off doctor (female, middle aged, good looking) and two equally disapproving nurses (male, uniformed).
“We don’t do torture.” The doc crossed her arms.
“Good.” Vickers looked back at Eldon. “Why don’t we bring out the patients?”
“I’m in research for . . . Oh. My. God!” The doctor’s arms dropped, along with her jaw.
The two cyborgs were just as they’d been scooped up. The old one crouched in pain, the young one staring down at him.
Head snapping around, cybernetic arm coming up.
Two specials grabbed him, one arm each.
The Cy turned his head and Duran on the right folded up. The one with the Cyber arm was lifted and tossed.
Eldon jumped for him, shrugged off a weak stun spell, and grabbed the cyber arm. Wrenched it upward. A flick of . . . not really light, just a line of dust particles suddenly illuminated, then nothing.
The Cy screamed and whipped Eldon around. Good attachment on this arm, no matter how strong the arm is, it’s anchored to human bone and muscles, somewhere.
The Cy threw a command spell, laughably weak against a Comet Fall Magician, but he wasn’t the target. One of the specials started to raise his rifle . . . Eldon threw a mental shield up, surrounding the Cy, and the special shook his head, glanced at his gun in disbelief.
“All right. I really hate doing this to anyone, but . . .” Eldon’s an Asshole, and build the Chain around it . . . flip it on him.
Another scream. “How dare you! I am a True Man! You will pay for this! You will . . .” One more heave, then Eldon kicked his legs out from under him and pinned him down.
“We need to figure out how to get the laser off, look him over for other weapons . . .”
The Cy heaved and Eldon more felt than heard the faint snap in the Cy’s shoulder. This scream was of pain.
“If you pinch the four legs of the laser together, diagonally toward the center, it will come off, and you will see the wires.” Latin-ish, from the old Cyborg.
Eldon rode another heave, felt the Cys flinch of pain and got one hand on the laser’s legs but couldn’t . . .
Duran limped up. “What do you need me to do?”
“All four legs, pinch them diagonally into the center.” Eldon grinned. “If you trust the old guy.”
“Yeah, actually, he kept me from getting shot, so . . .” the laser came off in his hands and two quick tugs unplugged the wires in two of the legs.
Curses from the Cy.
The lady doctor frowned. “I want scans, but he’s not very cooperative.”
Eldon waved a sleep spell over him, hard. With the Chain in place it barely penetrated. But his eyes glazed.
The doctor eyed Eldon warily, but waved her people forward. “Get him on the scan bed.”
Eldon helped lift him, then finally turned to the old Cy. Still crouched on the floor. Cyborg hand flat on the concrete, flesh hand raised in surrender. Ernie had his science fiction fantasy rifle in hand.
“So are you Roman?”
“No, I’m from three conquests ago.” He sounded tired.
“Well, let me take off that laser . . . No?”
“I need to discharge it first, else there will be an energy discharge through the wires.”
“Right, and do you discharge it by firing it?”
“Oh Kay. Keep your arm pointed straight down, and let’s step outside . . . up to the door.”
Ernie jogged ahead and opened it.
“Shoot the dirt, right there.”
Four small eruptions of dust, and then nothing.
“Thank you. It is safe to remove now. I . . . would give anything to have my real arm back, but this one has utility.” The old Cy eyed Eldon. “You are a mentalist, aren’t you? The one who cut off Four-four’s attack?”