Rene leaned out from behind one of the towering stacks of crates. Industrial fans spun lazily overhead, circulating the air and filling the building with a low rhythmic thump thump thump that he felt in his chest. It was a noticeable counterpoint to his pounding heart. The doors to the place were ten foot sections of extruded metal, left deliberately ajar to provide a three or four foot entry point. Rene supposed that was a compromise to keep out the damp and promote airflow but it might simply have been a case of the guards being too lazy to close the door.

Whatever the case it provided him with an opportunity now. A shadow filled the gap as one of the guards tried to rush into the warehouse. It wasn’t a mistake a trained soldier would have made. Rene’s plasma bolt center punched him as the fading afternoon light back lit him perfectly. The guard flew back into the door with a dull metallic clang, his tunic smouldering as he slumped bonelessly against the door post. Rene ducked back, momentarily blinded by the sudden light in the darkened building, eyes dappled with dazzling purplish after images. Gunfire tore into the crates in front of him, splintering wood lost in the echoing cacophony of sound reflected off the cheap metal wall. He exhaled hard through his nose to clear the ticklish cloud of coffee dust from his nostrils and darted deeper into the warren of crates ahead of the pounding of feet and shouts of anger. 

The warehouse was laid out on a fairly standard pattern although the haphazardly stacked crates made it difficult to navigate. He ran towards the rear trying to stick close to the wall so as not to be stuck in blind corners that he could get out off. The men pursuing him were shouting and firing, at shadows as they couldn’t possibly have a target, but they would figure it out eventually. He burst unexpectedly into an open area where the concrete floor was raised by a few inches. A wire enclosed control station was centrally located though both the console and the rodent chewed stool were coated with a thick layer of dust. Rene followed the cabling with his eyes and registered an ancient and rusted overhead crane system. He paused sighted and squeezed the trigger. The room flashed into cyan relief as the bolt sped to the ceiling, intersecting the connecting bracket of the rusted and disused gripping arm. Metal screamed and burst into gorgeous red flame under the stellar heat of the plasma bolt. Hydralic lines blew out in gouts of dirty orange flame that seemed tawdry by comparison. The gripping hand, a metal x weighing a third of a ton, plummeted into the crates with a shattering crash of splintered timber that was literally painful to hear. Hundreds of pounds of coffee poured from broken crates as dozens of piles went down in ruin. Smoke billowed forth as the dust caught fire and began to burn. Men screamed, though Rene couldn’t have said whether it was in terror, rage or pain. All of those things suited his purposes, so long as it took attention away from Solae and the house. 

The rear of the warehouse grew increasingly hot as he neared the roasting oven. Rene could smell the slight methane stink of propane flames as he wove his way back through piles of empty crates. Unexpectedly he ran into a woven wire fence, bouncing back with shock though with no real paine. He took a couple of lunging strides to a metal framed door, surprised to find it secured by a padlock. Rather than waste time he pulled Armon’s sword from his belt and swept the energized blade down through the hasp causing the door to spring open with a musical twang. He stepped quickly through the door and darted around a large hydralic press before freezing.

A half dozen Syshin were huddling in a corner of the large room. A pile of coffee beans, easily a ton dominated the center of the space, deposited by front end loader or industrial tractor. Shovels, their handles worn smooth and shiny with long use lay scattered around where the Syshin had tossed them when the gunfire had startled them. A large roasting oven rumbled along, the slow conveyor empty now that the Syshin were no longer feeding the thing. It reminded Rene of a child hood monster he had once feared, the fires of hell glowing in the depths of its metallic gullet. Most nightmarishly of all, one of the Syshin an older male, was chained to the thing. His skin was blackened with old burns and he writhed against the hot surface unable to get free. Long whip scars mared his skin and two digits on his left hand were missing.

“What the actual fuck,” Rene gasped and the Syshin cringed back from him, those in the corner trying to flatten themselves into the corner.

“We work good master,” one of them mewled in broken Imperial. Rene looked between the chained alien and his cowering confederates in horror. That was why the door was locked, they had enslaved Syshin, presumably males they had no use for in brothels, working on the plantation. He strode forward with the sword, waking screams from the group, and cut the chains holding the prisoner to the tormenting heat of the oven. The metal links clinked heavily as they fell to the ground. Rene cursed himself for not learning any Syshi and turned to the group the corner.

The world exploded in pain as the chain caught him across the back. He spun by the prisoner he had just freed was already on top of him, meaty fist swinging. They went down in a heap rolling across the spilled coffee grounds in a tangle. The Syshin was screaming, a weird warbling warcry like the one he had heard the night before in the forest. Rene bought his arms up in front of him, parrying the prisoners punch and following up with his own elbow. It was like striking a stone wall.

“I’m a friend!” Rene screamed but the Alien was terrified and furious seeking only to kill one of the hated humans. It drove one of its shackled wrists at his throat but Rene, slippery with sweat, twisted sideways so that the blow glanced off his shoulder. He slammed his head forward in a headbutt that connected with the Syshin’s chin, slamming the brutes mouth shut with a painful clack that must have chipped teeth. Rene’s own vision swam but he bought his hand up and around in an open handed strike that would have ruptured the kidney of a human. Judging by the howl of pain the blow elicited there was enough similarity between human and Syshin physiology to do the job. He smashed his knee into his attackers chest and rolled to his feet, blood running from his mouth in a steady stream. Gunfire scythed through the air, ringing the side of the oven like a drum, three guards burst through the door firing from the hip. Rene pulled his pistol, miraculously still on his belt and shot the lead man in the face, the blast of superheated plasma snapping between the teeth of his open mouthed scream, blowing the back of the man's head off. The remainder swung their aim on him but he dived sideways landing against the pile of coffee grounds. He fired again but the bolt went wide blasting one of the crates into flaming splinters behind him. The second bolt hit the man low in the pelvis, vaporising a chunk of his hip and all but severing a leg. The pistol made a chunking sound and the circular ammunition disc ejected, empty, eight charred holes in the matrix where the plasma charges had been embedded. Cursing Rene hurled the empty weapon at the final gunman in desperation. The man flinched as it bounced off his shoulder but the barrel of his weapon didn’t waver. Abruptly the unshaven guards howl of triumph  transfigured into agony as the burned Syshin swung a shovel, edge on like a battle axe, up into the man's chest. The sound was horrifying, a kind of crunching sucking sound like a knife being dropped into jelly. Blood gouted from the guards mouth in a spray, driven by the jet of air from his caved in lungs. The man fell to the ground, made a final cough of blood and was still.

Rene lay against the pile of coffee, the coppery taste of blood in his mouth, gasping for air. The Syshin made an attempt to remove the shovel but it was too deeply buried to make the effort worthwhile. The alien turned his baleful eye on Rene and spat on the floor. The burns on his back had cracked open and were leaking clear fluid, though Rene couldn’t see any sign that it discomforted the brute.

“Friend,” the Syshin rumbled speculatively. Picking up Rene’s pistol and tossing it towards the marine. Rene made an effort to catch it but the coffee pile spoiled the motion and the weapon landed on the pile beside him.

“Friend,” Rene agreed wearily, spreading his fingers to show he meant no harm, before retrieving the pistol. Awkwardly he pushed himself to his feet. His back was on fire and his head was buzzing like a struck bell. The Syshin who had been cowering in the corner were on their feet now though none seemed eager to approach him. Now that he had time to look he could see that all of them were whip scared and at least one more of them had burns across his back, all wore simple loin cloths fashioned from the sack cloth the coffee was being shipped in.

“Were you from gunman,” the big one asked, its voice a cracking croak as though parched beyond human comprehension..

“I’m from the Government and I’m here to help,” Rene managed but the joke was evidently lost. He pulled an ammunition disc from his pouch and slotted it home, yanking back on the primer handle to charge the weapon. The room was hot from plasma discharge and the liberated heat of burning flesh. It stank of blood and fire as the small blazes he had started at the other end of the building began to pick up speed.

“We need to get out of here,” he declared. The sword had fallen to the ground so he scooped it up and thumbed the power. He staggered to one of the thin metal walls and made three quick slashes. A triangular section of corrugated metal fell free with a clang, the edges red with friction heat and trailing thin tendrils of smoke. Without waiting Rene stepped through into the deepening twilight. 

“Freeze!” A half dozen men stood within twenty meters of him, each one pointing an assault weapon at him. Smoke was pouring from the warehouse behind him as it found the new found ventilation option he had just created. Rene’s stomach flip flopped and a cold chill prickled his skin. He should have anticipated it of course they would have surrounded the building. The hot emotion of shame ran through him, shame at having failed Solae, at having to leave her alone to face what was to come. There was no way out, he would never get back into the building before they cut him down, and even if he did it was a choice between the fires and their bullets. The thin metal walls wouldn't provide any protection. He raised one hand and with the other tossed the sword back into the building as though disarming himself, hoping the Syshin could use the blade to make another exit before the fire drove them into the sights of their captors.

“Alright,” he called back, judging the angle to go for, figuring he might take one, perhaps two of them with him before he was killed.

“I’m sorry Solae…” he whispered. With a suddenness so shocking that Rene could do nothing but twitch, the gunmen disintegrated. Just disintegrated. There was a sound like a buzz saw and what had been human beings flew appart in sprays of blood and offal. Security drones, each the size and shape of a half beachball zipped and whirred into view. Under slung weapon mounts traced smokey lines across the darkening sky as they quested for targets. The weapons were small calibre, only 2 or 3 millimeters, but the rate of fire on the zip guns more than made up for their low throw weight. Drones were of little use against real soldiers because they were hard to shield against electronic warfare, but against untrained amateurs they were lethal beyond words. One of the things darted close to Rene who stumbled in a belated ghost of his planned dive, but the thing must have decided he wasn’t a threat and zoomed away. There were another few isolated spurts of gunfire and then the estate was silent save for the crackling roar of the burning warehouse and the distant and distressed clucking of terrified chickens. Solae had made it. Against all odds she had taken control of the manor house. Behind him the Syshin began to emerge, they former prisoner carrying the sword in his hand as though it were a knitting needle. Rene sank to his knees in exhausted relief. They had done it.