Fire Storm

The artificial sun of this artificial day of this artificial city on this hollow asteroid space ship zooming between the stars through inconceivable dimensions at two hundred times the speed of light burns brightly. The scorch marks, bullet holes, and artillery craters which mar the LCD panels that line the ceiling prove it to be synthetic, and reveal the bleak, cold iron behind them.

Dr. Steven Ritenrong, age unknown but over 50, is out of breath, having run two blocks under mortar and machine gun fire from the security forces of this Pirate-run space ship. He is less than a hundred feet from his friends and the relative safety of the FastTrack train station.

"Thunderhorse! Get Steve! Mark! Coverfire!" Dr. Lucas "Doc" Shaw, Time Operative, shouts over the heavy gunfire. He throws himself behind the heavy asteroid-extruded steel wall of the wide train station entrance. Mark does the same, on the opposite side of the entrance. Doc leans out and fires a Pulse Ion Particle Pistol, which emits a beam of purple light. The particle beam hits its target, a large, hovering Armored Personel Carrier which is levelling a machine gun at his friend Steve, and out of which six heavily armed Pirates have just jumped. The thick armor glows red from the impact of the high-speed charged particles, but resists any further damage from them.

A brave man from the crowd of rioting passengers wielding a Magnetic-Accelerated Compressed Gas Assault Rifle stolen from a previous encounter with pirates stays with the Time Operatives. He's obviously used a gun like this before, perhaps in the Earth Defense forces, but has no tactical sense, or really common sense whatsoever. He stays between Doc and Mark, in the middle of the entrance. He fires the thing on automatic randomly into the universe, making a lot of noise but not accomplishing much besides further scoring the fake sky black.

Captain Mark Daniels, formerly of the Michigan Militia circa 1835, fires a railgun assault rifle at the tank. The pulse of light-bending micro bullets redshift as they slam hard into their target at a quarter the speed of light. The blast glances off the armored vehicle, collapsing a side panel in on its self and ejecting it from the vehicle

Meanwhile, Thunderhorse, the Nordic horseman from ages long forgotten and unknown, races towards his employer. The chains on his Hot Topic jeans jangle, and the railgun he carries slapping against his back. He pulls his goat-skull mask down over his face. He runs as hard as he can, as hard as a horse.

The APC ignores the damage it's taking from the future weapons and continues to vomit metal from it's .50 caliber machine gun turret. Steve is pinned by the lead rain. Thunderhorse reaches him in time to be caught in it, too. At first the bullets creep towards them from behind, then a few begin to impact their gel-filled reactive armor, leaving welts and bruises. Then, a blue substance explodes from out of Steve's back, at first in jagged shatters, but then jellifying and oozing out, turning purple as it mixes with blood.

Steve hits the ground.

"STEVE!"

The pirate security forces from the APC approach, firing their assault rifles. Thunderhorse ducks and weaves towards Steve, but cannot avoid the pelting from the .50 cal. His reactive armor stiffens, constricts, and pounds against his muscles with every impact. He imagines being flogged with a python by a frost giant.

The pirate security forces fire at Mark and Doc as well. The walls they hide behind are far too thick, and the Time Operatives are much too fast to be caught out in the open.

The whole area is a cacophony of richochets and automatic fire bursts, glass breaking, things exploding.

Mark ducks back out and returns fire. This time his railgun penetrates deep into the APC's armor, causing a minor explosion in the engine compartment. The hover system fails and the whole thing drops the 18 inches it was floating very violently. Smoke pours out the hatch as its pilot and gunner make their escape.

The plucky rioter refines his aim, this time causing the left flank of the pirate forces to scatter. A purple beam of particles blasts through the space where a pirate Sergeant's head used to be. Doc mumbles to himself as he tries to steady his aim.

The pirate forces are undeterred by the loss of cover fire from the APC. They return fire to the exposed, inexperienced crowd member, cutting him down. The right flank continues firing at Thunderhorse as he tries to collect Steve. More bullets bruise his muscles beneath his armor. Thunderhorse lets out a roar as he uses almost all of his reserve to endure the pain. He lifts Steve over his shoulder as he is pelted and pelted and pelted, then starts the hard run back to the train station entrance. Steve leaves a red trail behind them.

The pirates continue firing at Thunderhorse as he runs, carrying Steve. He jukes and serpentines, escaping continued pummeling from assault rifles. Running as hard as he can, he finally dives behind the train station wall where Doc is taking cover. Bullets bounce off the steel walls in front of them. Mark returns fire, his railgun on full auto. An incredible deafening and blinding burst of light and explosion seals the fate of the left flank of the approaching pirates.

Doc speed-holsters his pistol and drops immediately to tend to Steve. The back-left gel pad failed and shattered under the stress, allowing a .50 calibur bullet to slide through his body, shatter on the backside of the chest-plate. The pieces then bounced back into Steve's chest cavity.

Doc plugs the hole with a torn piece of Steve's lab coat and puts enough pressure on it to stop the rampant blood loss. He's going to need immediate surgery. It's been years since Doc has done this level of combat medicine, and he never was too great at meatball surgery. It's going to take several hours, and he's pinned down by gunfire in a train station.

"Veronica!" he calls into the air.

"What now?!" responds an irate female voice.

"We're pinned in the FastTrack! Steve's been shot. I need to get him to the Pear's medical bay IMMEDIATELY! Steve was going to hack the trains to get us out of here. Can you do it?!"

"Let me try." There's a brief delay as her android brain connects remotely to the ship's computer systems. "I can't get through the firewalls. I'm programmed to fly space ships, not disable network security systems. Why the hell did you let him get shot?!"

"Now is not the time!" Doc shouts as he pushes down on the soaked lab coat, trying to keep the blood at bay. His knee lands on something in Steve's coat pocket; a device the size and shape of a large pen or small vibrator. The word time echoes through his head as he frees a hand, works it into the pocket, and withdraws the Quantum-Temporal Interference Projector.