The Last Spartan – Chapter Thirty-Five

I do not own Firefly, or any rights to it whatsoever, and write only for my own enjoyment.

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Neera looked at the sight before her, and felt her blood run cold. Well, colder than normal.

She was standing at the entrance to a long hallway. A hallway lined with cell after cell constructed of clear material of some kind. And each one holding a prisoner.

Most of whom appeared to be little more than children.

Her anger kindled at once, and Fate provided her with an outlet in the form of three security guards. Ignoring her rifle, Neera went toward them at full speed, bowling them over. She maintained a grip on one, the largest, and began pummeling him.

The man tried to fight back, at least at first. After the third blow from the angry Amazon’s fist, however, he was finished. Instantly Neera was on her feet, and grabbed the nearest guard as he rose to his feet.

This one managed to land a solid punch to her face, which merely made her smile. Suddenly her eyes glassed over, and the last thing the guard ever saw was a pair of needle sharp fangs descending to tear out his throat.

The last guard saw this, and brought his rifle to bear. He opened fire even as his late comrade was thrust into his line of fire. He saw bullet after bullet slam into the woman before him, and was sure he’d taken her.

Only he hadn’t. Smiling a truly evil smile, Neera stepped forward, her mouth bloody, her uniform tattered with holes.

“Nice try, mortal,” she hissed, and snapped his neck in a blur of motion.

Anger spent, rage sated, Neera took a minute to survey the area around her. Most of the prisoners were awake now, and several had the presence of mind to scream at her for help, having seen her attack the hated guards.

“QUIET!” she yelled, and instantly the noise stopped. She toggled her mike.

“Alpha lead, report,” she ordered crisply.

“Operation at halfway point, no casualties,” came the immediate reply.

“Foxtrot lead, report.”

“Unengaged,” came the