The Beginning of the End of New Lork Part 6

“So you’re a shifter?” The R.I.G. was talking now, Deliah had helped him away from the shopping area massacre and into a bombed out basement.  He had been quiet since his initial amazement at her rescue and Deliah was thankful for the silence. She had set up a small fire and had the corporate thugs weapons disassembled in front of her. She had also taken apart her sub machine guns and the longshot; only her Hanlon which was too old to take parts from newer guns was left in a combat status, she also had the knife nearby should the need arise.

“Is that how they say thank you in the empire? I prefer the corporate territories way more, it’s a lot easier to understand, what if you had to say thank you to a group of people?”

“I’d say thank you, but I honestly don’t know if I’m next.” Deliah sighed, she had found the jam in one of her smgs and it had been as she had feared, melted from the shifting.

“I frequently save people and help them get to safety only to kill them later; it’s in the shifter handbook.” The R.I.G. shifted uncomfortably, sarcasm in a war zone never went over well Deliah thought to herself.

“What do you want?”

“I want to get off this damn rock R.I.G.” The other smg had the same issue, both were completely beyond repair. Deliah tossed them aside with disgust, her abilities had proven useful for surviving, but were hell on her equipment.  The only reliable weapon she owned was the Hanlon.

“No way you’re dangerous, even if I had a way off this planet, I’d never give it to you.”

“You’re usefulness is really becoming narrow R.I.G. you don’t really want that.” Deliah didn’t want to have to murder someone in cold blood, especially not after having saved him, but he wasn’t making a great case for himself.

“I have a name you know.” The R.I.G. was worried, in class he’d been taught that if someone doesn’t want to know your name it’s because they were dehumanizing you to make killing you easier.

“And I’m a person! But you don’t want to see that, you want to see me as a murderous magic user! So fuck your name.” Deliah ran a hand over her brow, in the background the R.I.G. adjusted himself uncomfortably. Deliah moved to look over her bag of goodies and winced in pain, the spot where the shotgun blast had hit hurt more than just a bruise would let on. “I’m going to unfasten my armor, if you even look at me funny I swear to whatever gods you believe in I’ll put one right between your eyes.”

“I’ll go one further and do the same those rebels messed me up bad and I would like to see how bad if that’s ok with you.” A tentative truce in place things seemed a bit lighter in the air.  Deliah and the R.I.G. unfastened their chest plates and surveyed the damage underneath. Deliah was wearing a white, now brown, tank top.  The R.I.G. had on an undershirt that had his unit logo on it, a hound of some kind; he took the shirt off and was busy inspecting a myriad of bruises over his green body. Deliah gingerly inspected her own wound, the armor had stopped the shot but the force had definitely done damage. She lifted her shirt up a bit and saw deep black bruising; as she touched it she sucked breath in from the pain.

Deliah heard snickering from her right and gave the R.I.G. a sour look, “You got a problem hearing R.I.G.?”

He stopped snickering and tried to go stone faced, “I’m sorry I wasn’t aware actual laughter wasn’t allowed with your funny looks.”

“You think it’s funny when someone gets shot saving your stupid ass?”

“No it’s just odd for a big bad ass like you to have a prominent butterfly tattoo.” The tattoo was on her right bicep, it was a large butterfly and a date underneath it. Deliah almost forgot it was there, she had the work originally done seven years ago, when she got out of her first tour in the merc groups

“It’s a metaphor do they teach you about those in the empire?”

“A little bit, between being bigots towards the magical and people who save our asses, so what was the transformation? Your first bare handed strangulation?” Deliah didn’t want to admit it, but she was starting to like the little runt of a R.I.G. He was unarmed and an asshole but there was some charm there.

“Lost my first fight and almost my life.”

“That follows.”

“Naturally, though in case you were wondering if magic wins over physics, it totally does.” Deliah reattached her armor, she couldn’t do shit about the injury to her side. She made a mental note that if she made it out of here she’d have to get medical assistance.

“I’m sorry.” The little guy looked like he had a red face as best he could manage between the bruises blood and green skin.

“What’s your name R.I.G.?” It was against her better judgment, but her better judgment had led her to this dirtball to begin with.

“Kyriac.”

“Well Kyriac, you didn’t do it, and you didn’t know about it, so you have nothing to be sorry for.” There was moment of blessed silence.  Deliah picked over her spoils.  The weapons were all brand new corporate issue pieces of shit.  They looked nice, but in the dirt and dust of New Lork they’d jam and be useless long before any shifting could mess them up.  She did her best to cobble together a working assault rifle out of the four she’d taken, it wasn’t optimal but it would work till she got something she felt more comfortable with. Kyriac was busy himself, he looked almost comically covered in bandages, the majority of his torso was now wrapped in some white tape. His job finished he put the shirt back on.

“That your unit?” The logo looked like some kind of grey wolf howling at an invisible moon.

“Yeah 5^th division out of Sanctuary, the blood hounds.”

“Mage hunters? Son of a bitch I should have figured with you even knowing what a shifter is.” Deliah was almost worried for a second, but if they were after her, he wouldn’t have been surprised by her ability.

“You got it, and you have nothing to worry about, I lost my shackles when our unit got ambushed.” Shackles were anti magical implements that inhibited ability, Deliah had seen some used before when a group she was with had been paid to back up a unit similar to Kyriacs.

“So what are R.I.G. mage hunters doing in a corporate war zone? I’ve seen a lot in this awful conflict but I don’t think either side is using magic, well not directly.”

Kyriac laughed and then immediately coughed in pain, “Aside from you of course, no we got intel that a target of high priority would be here, look like it was bad, or he’s long gone.  Maybe a bit of both. “ Mage hunters in Deliah’s experience were good at retrieval and shit at everything else, their unit composition was primarily designed against nullifying magical targets and taking them alive (either for study or in the case of Ronerawth sanctuary a kind of magical prison/actual sanctuary).

“And you guys got jumped by rebels?”

“Almost like we were set up right? The thought crosses my mind.” Kyriac reattached his armor and moved closer to the fire for warmth, “Though if you don’t mind, and this is not a comment on your lovely conversation skills, but I’m tired, mind if I sleep these bruises off?”

“Sure I’ll wake you up when it’s your turn to keep watch.”

“What am I going to keep watch with?”

“Those tiny fists look dangerous, might cause a light bruise to form.” Kyriac flipped her off, Deliah smiled back at him; she was starting to like the little guy.