Zur stood alone in the open about a dozen meters from Ahk. In his hands he held the long-shafted alter-mace that had originally been part of Kor’s arsenal. He stood in almost lazy stillness, the rigid shaft gripped in his hands; but his eyes never left the Wasps. They would find him no easy target. A ten-foot Tzen with an alter-mace is an opponent to be reckoned with.
Another dozen meters from Zur, completing the triangle, was Kor. She was waiting near, but not taking cover from, a slightly sloping tree trunk. The heavy spiked hand-armor glittered at the end of her arms, but she didn’t seem to notice the weight, tossing one of her steel balls back and forth from hand to hand as she watched the Wasps.
“Commander!”
It was Kor’s voice that was beamed into my mind.
“Yes, Kor?”
“Request permission to commence combat.”
“Granted.”
I gave permission not so much out of impatience as curiosity to see what action she had planned. I didn’t have long to wait.
Slowly at first, then smoothly accelerating, she began to turn and rotate like a warm-blood chasing its tail. Her own tail, however, rose slowly until it was pointed straight up; then with a sudden whiplike action she bent double and hurtled the steel ball at the Wasps, levering her tail down as she did for added power and balance.
I would have thought the distance too great to throw one of the steel balls with any accuracy, much less with any power, and apparently so had the Wasps. As if to prove my assumptions wrong, the ball flashed past me as if fired from a power sling and smashed into one Wasp’s thorax with an audible `crack!’