Three seconds of shocked silence passed before the screaming began. Guests lunged from the banquet table as security staff ushered people out the front door. Mousse was spattered on gilded walls, seeping through fine linen and dripping from flower arrangements.
Esther's goatee tingled as circuits died, but she seemed to be the only one who noticed that something else was wrong. The room had almost emptied but for herself, the spineless worm called Donovan, and his security goons; Esther moved to intercept them. She ripped off her goatee and pulled out the neural destabilizer hidden in her elegant hair-style.
She aimed at Donovan's goons and opened fire. The first one went down without a blink, but the other three returned fire. Donovan, the slimy weasel, scrambled for the rear doors. Not that Esther let him. She tossed a plastinade towards the back wall and covered her ears. The room rocked as the back wall – and accompanying exits – were covered in unbreakable plastifilm. Esther ducked and rolled behind a serving cart. She tapped her earring.
The time is twenty-one forty two, it chimed.
The ceiling exploded and the chandelier fell in a shower of crystal shards. Esther looked up. It still took a moment to recognize Liliana and Jaime without their handlebar mustaches. Esther laid down covering fire as her teammates rappelled into the room.
They landed on the banquet table, shattering plates with their combat boots. They dived for the walls, landing slightly behind Esther's position.
Liliana pulled out a plasma launcher and targeted the end of the room. Two of the security goons were reduced to ash. Jaimie's toxin-loaded darts picked off the remaining one; his twitching body hit the floor.
The only sounds in the room were the cracking of glass and Donovan's weak thrashing as he pawed futilely at the plastifilmed exit door. Esther peered over the serving cart. Without his security team, the most powerful sparkdust dealer in the city was reduced to thrashing on the floor, getting food on his tasteless golden suit. She raised her neural destabilizer and fired a single shot. Donovan stilled.
Esther slowly stood up. “Injuries?”
Jaimie looked down at her left arm. “Slight pistol-shot graze to the upper arm, Commander.” She patted her arm. “My suit's already sealing it down. The extraction team will be here in two minutes.”
Esther nodded. Even though the authorities were scrambling to respond to a now-sounding general alarm, Esther felt almost relaxed. Six months of planning had culminated in a near-flawless fight. She strolled over to Donovan's body.
Jaimie called out from behind her. “There wasn't a single personal distress call, Commander. How'd you disable all their mustaches?”
“The explosives were command-chained to nano-destabilizers in the gazpacho and the strawberry puree.” Esther replied. She nudged Donovan's corpse with her foot. He rolled over; there was a smear of pink liquid across his pencil mustache. Esther smiled.
entry by tangerine
Three seconds of shocked silence passed before the screaming began. Guests lunged from the banquet table as security staff ushered people out the front door. Mousse was spattered on gilded walls, seeping through fine linen and dripping from flower arrangements.
Esther's goatee tingled as circuits died, but she seemed to be the only one who noticed that something else was wrong. The room had almost emptied but for herself, the spineless worm called Donovan, and his security goons; Esther moved to intercept them. She ripped off her goatee and pulled out the neural destabilizer hidden in her elegant hair-style.
She aimed at Donovan's goons and opened fire. The first one went down without a blink, but the other three returned fire. Donovan, the slimy weasel, scrambled for the rear doors. Not that Esther let him. She tossed a plastinade towards the back wall and covered her ears. The room rocked as the back wall – and accompanying exits – were covered in unbreakable plastifilm. Esther ducked and rolled behind a serving cart. She tapped her earring.
The time is twenty-one forty two, it chimed.
The ceiling exploded and the chandelier fell in a shower of crystal shards. Esther looked up. It still took a moment to recognize Liliana and Jaime without their handlebar mustaches. Esther laid down covering fire as her teammates rappelled into the room.
They landed on the banquet table, shattering plates with their combat boots. They dived for the walls, landing slightly behind Esther's position.
Liliana pulled out a plasma launcher and targeted the end of the room. Two of the security goons were reduced to ash. Jaimie's toxin-loaded darts picked off the remaining one; his twitching body hit the floor.
The only sounds in the room were the cracking of glass and Donovan's weak thrashing as he pawed futilely at the plastifilmed exit door. Esther peered over the serving cart. Without his security team, the most powerful sparkdust dealer in the city was reduced to thrashing on the floor, getting food on his tasteless golden suit. She raised her neural destabilizer and fired a single shot. Donovan stilled.
Esther slowly stood up. “Injuries?”
Jaimie looked down at her left arm. “Slight pistol-shot graze to the upper arm, Commander.” She patted her arm. “My suit's already sealing it down. The extraction team will be here in two minutes.”
Esther nodded. Even though the authorities were scrambling to respond to a now-sounding general alarm, Esther felt almost relaxed. Six months of planning had culminated in a near-flawless fight. She strolled over to Donovan's body.
Jaimie called out from behind her. “There wasn't a single personal distress call, Commander. How'd you disable all their mustaches?”
“The explosives were command-chained to nano-destabilizers in the gazpacho and the strawberry puree.” Esther replied. She nudged Donovan's corpse with her foot. He rolled over; there was a smear of pink liquid across his pencil mustache. Esther smiled.
“They always try the soup.”