“Report,” Bria growled.
“Some kind—” he coughed and tasted blood. He’d bit his lip when his head snapped back. The hall spun, and for a moment he could not tell what direction was up.
“Some explosion.”
He managed to reach down to his thigh and send the command to his armor to extrude a pistol. He pulled the weapon free and tossed it into the debris. It sprouted thin wire legs as it fell, and landed already running. He interfaced with its view and he watched as it ran to the lip of the interior chamber of the weapon.
Limbs and torsos of robots rained past, falling down the length of the barrel. His g*n looked up. A black figure clung to the pale glowing spire of the particle generator. It looked to Tarkos like an Ulltrian—and he thought for a moment that it was an Ulltrian, dres
