“Incoming, on your six!” MacNeil’s voice blared in Jordan’s ear, and he gave a signal to Ramirez. The genteel man waved his hand confidently, manifesting a thick purple shield behind them. Blaster bolts slammed impotently into the obstruction with a soft crackling sound, yet Ramirez had no problem returning fire through it. He killed two of their pursuers and forced the others to take cover.

  The group had moved swiftly toward the warehouse containing the women, killing the few unfortunates who’d stood in their way. Their only roadblock had come right here at the very end. The thugs in the middle of the deal had reacted to the changing situation with alacrity, firing at the Pioneers as they closed in and forcing the group to take cover. Some threw up various Psionic shields of their own, but Stanoslav took care of that. Extending a hand, he fired off a missile of violet light that tore through a weaker blue shield like it was made of paper. The missile curved mid-flight, killing two shield conjurers and leaving the others vulnerable.

  Even as the Pioneers whittled down the thugs near the warehouse, more came from the rest of the facility to reinforce them. The unknown leader of the foreign party was proving to be a special nuisance. He and several others of his gang were returning fire from behind the vans that held the women. The Pioneer’s weapons could pierce the obstruction, but not without killing the women inside. Also, the big man’s blaster was the most potent weapon the enemy seemed to have, capable of piercing even the concrete barriers the Pioneers were using as cover. Stanoslav was hit in the chest by one of those shots, sending him to the ground and forcing him to use a stim to get back in the fight.

  Despite all of that, the Pioneers were winning. Jordan’s Eyes of the Hound allowed him to see long and far, improving his accuracy and helping him to predict enemy movement. Jordan’s blaster rifle spat out a constant stream of death and destruction as he weaved around the enemy fire with preternatural awareness. Stanoslav’s missiles were impossible to block and deadly accurate, while O’Riley had done something to enhance his weapon. It glowed a brilliant amethyst and was firing blaster bolts of the same color with an improved ROF and power. Individually, the bolts were much weaker than Stanoslav’s missiles, but they were even more impactful for this enemy. Those three alone were enough to bring a force many times their size to its knees.

  Eventually, the gangsters decided they’d had enough. With Julio Olajun barking orders, the ten guards he still possessed began a fighting retreat to the western edge of the complex. At the same time, the unknown crook called out his own orders, and his remaining men got into one of the vans and made to drive off. Stanoslav targeted their driver with a missile, but he was forced to take cover by some well-placed blaster bolts from the big man. Jordan yelled, “Gon, the van.”

  His Dunid companion was already rushing out into the open, moving to obstruct the vehicle. Gon hadn’t been able to do much in the fight due to his inability to use firearms. Jordan would’ve thought that the non-human would’ve chosen to mitigate that weakness with his choice in Psionic Capacity from the FGS. He hadn’t, though Jordan had to admit that Gon’s choice had been pretty cool anyway. The Dunid’s whole body glowed purple as he ran, the bullets and blaster bolts seeming to bounce off him as it did. The van’s tires screeched as they made for the main roadway, but Gon interposed himself between them and freedom. Jordan heard the driver screaming as they couldn’t avoid crashing into him.

  Gon was forced a few steps backwards from the impact, wincing slightly, while the front part of the vehicle crumpled like a tin can. The engine was annihilated in an earsplitting groan of metal, the vehicle bouncing backward drunkenly. The leader leapt from the doomed van, then faced off against Gon. He gnashed his teeth and activated his own Capacity, charging forward in relentless fury. His whole body glowed purple just like Gon’s, but when he met the Dunid fist-to-claw, Gon was pushed back. The crook’s muscles bulged, and he roared as he slugged his opponent in a flurry of fists. Then Jordan appeared behind him.

  Jordan literally appeared from thin air in a flash of purple light. The large crook didn’t have time to react before Jordan planted several lightning-fast stabs into his spine. The crook pitched forward like a puppet with its strings cut, Gon leaping in and finishing him off before he even hit the ground.

  The Teleportation Capacity was quite rare, but Jordan recently had the chance to buy it from his dad’s secret stash. It was a powerful ability, but not without its drawbacks. Its limited range and hefty Mental Energy consumption meant he couldn’t teleport around carelessly. The fact that it determined its direction by the User’s line of sight also made it somewhat predictable. Despite these drawbacks, Jordan had been hyped to add it to his arsenal. Even putting aside its considerable utility, it could be an incredible weapon in the right hands. Since the big crook hadn’t been looking his way, Jordan had taken him completely off guard.

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  As Gon and Jordan took care of the crooks in the van, the others were locked in battle with the retreating Sinachro forces. Jordan looked up in time to see the Sinachro board a Hoevertruck and soar off, the vehicle’s custom shielding stopping the Pioneers from shooting it down. He locked eyes with Olajun for a moment, the fat man glaring at him hatefully, before they flew off into the horizon. The battlefield was sent into a momentary silence, with only the groans of a few wounded criminals drifting through the air. Then Jordan heard MacNeil’s voice again: “Police have been called. We’re on the clock.”

  That galvanized Jordan into action. He ran to the totaled van, peering inside and finding two bruised and stunned women. He took off their hoods and saw that neither of them were Lucy or Marie. Jordan turned, gesturing: “O’Riley, give these women medical attention. Stan, check the other van. Ramirez and Gon, with me.”

  With that, he charged into the nearby warehouse. It didn’t take long for him to find locked steel double doors. He banged on them rapidly, calling out through his helmet’s speakers: “Clear the doors!”

  After waiting a few seconds, he kicked the doors open with ease. They swung aside to reveal around twenty women, all of them looking at him in fear and apprehension. Jordan smiled as disarmingly as possible, forgetting they couldn’t see his face due to his helmet: “Don’t worry, ladies. You’re going to be just fine.”

  …

  Lucy watched in fear and wonder as the man broke into the room, indicating it was time to go home. Who in the world was this? His voice, even when coming through the helmet, seemed familiar. Where had she heard that voice before? A memory flashed through Lucy’s mind, and she remembered a name: “Jordan?”

  The helmeted man had been scanning their group, and his gaze fixed on her. She got the strange feeling that he winked at her, though she couldn’t see his face, then his gaze travelled to Marie. Once he did, he turned around as quickly as he’d come. Baffled, Rose stepped forward and called after him: “Wait, what’s happening? Where are you going?”

  The man stopped, then looked over his shoulder: “The cops are coming soon. They’ll take you where you need to be.”

  “No, they won’t.”, Rose responded bitterly, before elaborating: “Some of us are homeless. If they turn us back onto the street, the Sinachro would probably pick us up again. Others come from homes that sent them here in the first place. Even those of us who have a safe place to return to may never get there. The Sinachro have some of the police in their pocket. An officer might just turn us back over to them.”

  She took a deep breath, then another step forward: “Please. I don’t know why you’re here. But don’t just leave us here.”

  The man fully turned now, surveying the group again, and then seemed to sigh: “Ramirez, see if you can go find a truck.”

  ….

  Jordan’s plans had been constantly shifting, but he’d recently planned to let all the women get picked up by the police once he confirmed the presence and safety of the two women. He didn’t want to implicate Lucy and Marie with their squad if he could avoid it. If he’d only taken them, the other women would tell that to the police. Sure, he’d try to get any investigation into their assault quashed, but there was no guarantee of anything. Jordan didn’t want the police coming after those two and asking them difficult questions. If MacNeil arrived at the police station to pick them up quickly enough, he’d minimize the risk of a corrupt cop handing them off to the Sinachro.

  Now he couldn’t help but sigh again as Ramirez drove a truck out into the open. The women got inside without much prompting. Fortunately, the eighteen-wheeler was able to easily accommodate all of them, even with the stolen goods inside it. Jordan shook his head: “How am I going to help all these people?”

  It wasn’t an impossible task. He’d already leaned on the old man’s connections a lot, but he was sure Markus Haraldson would be happy to help him resettle two dozen people. He just didn’t know how he was going to do all of that while also taking care of the Sinachro and the Marcovi. He tried to calm himself down: “One thing at a time, Jordan.”

  “Sir, the cops are getting close. You may want to get going.”, MacNeil warned.

  Jordan watched as the last of the women got into the truck, then motioned to the Dunid: “You get in there as well, big guy.”

  Regular cars couldn’t easily fit the large non-human. Once Gon had gotten in, Jordan shut the doors and hopped in the truck’s passenger side. O’Riley and Stanoslav had commandeered the unmarked van, gently placing the injured women within, alongside two other women to take care of them. Without hesitation, Ramirez and O’Riley hit the gas.

  In a squeal of rubber, the Pioneers made their escape.