were caught, or slow, or unlucky, killing them or wounding them only to finish them with another blast, the darkness lit by the helmet lamps of both corporations. Later, it was found that the Xelon Dru knew of the Nenthar’s tunnel expansions and so bored their own to intercept their enemy and to defend their territory.
Abreon crawled away from the ruin behind him, struggling to keep himself before others and thus, unfortunately utilize them as rearward shields as the Xelon pursued them out of the Nenthar tunnel, “We need weapons!” another solider crying as he was shot from behind. He clutched his stomach falling into a heap of other soldiers, a laser beam narrowly missing the side of Abreon’s face. The Xelon pouring out of the tunnel, Abreon yelling out again, “I need a weapon!” a Nenthar from before him with two weapons, “Here!” Abreon grabbing it and checking the weapons charge.
The other soldier nodding and firing back at the Dru, “Fight!”
Abreon pulled himself up from the mud, turned fired a few shots from his rifle and reached to climb up and into another bunker. Other Nenthar’s turning as they found weapons, firing and retreating into tunnel 33, their enemy perusing them over the bunker and down into the new tunnel as well. The blasts from behind the retreating Nenthar’s licking at their heels, the missed shots kicking up the muck from the floor of the tunnel, the mire from the walls of the tunnel. Abreon knew they were out matched without heavy weapons, but unfortunately, they had been caught off guard while digging. Abreon having an idea, yelling out to his fellow soldiers, “Shoot the walls! Blast the ceilings!” The Nenthar aimed their rifles at the tunnel, the plasma bursts crumbling the tunnel behind them.
A Xelon solider outfitted with a flame thrower, crawled up and over the dead bodies, Abreon screaming, “Get back, chemical flames!” escaping, seeing the soldier who gave him the rifle again, “Will all burn! Come on! Get out of the tunnel!”
Abreon aiming his rifle at the enemy with his flamethrower, “Fire at his tanks!”
Another Nenthar fired at the Dru’s tanks, then another, the tanks of the flamethrower exploding. The blast shaking the tunnel, ripping soldiers about. The explosion hitting the tunnel with such force that it bent the tunnels supporting O-rings, tearing at the walls and the ceiling. Soldiers crying out, “The tunnel is collapsing!” Abreon struggling as the tunnel began to liquefy from above, the tunnel degenerating over them, the 0-rings covered and sinking, the tunnel sealing itself from the rear. Soldiers of both companies buried alive.
The rain continued, pooled and drained into many of the tunnels and the trenches of both lines. The rains pounded the ground, slurring the blast pits into a muddy slurry, swelling the Zitar Nuo River until it roared and frothed in anger. The rain grayed out the sky, washing everything to pale hues while every man and machine hunkered down and waited. Abreon ate what little rations he had, alone in a bombed out pit, as the rains ended, and the sun began to shine down upon him and others. It had been several days and keeping his feet dry had been near impossible. He looked up at the sun and squinted. He had gotten every used to suffering. Abreon had forgotten what it was to see the light. He climbed out of his pit onto the muddy ground and watched the front lines. He drank his remaining water and felt a drop of rain on his head. Abreon looked up again, to see the sun sink behind the clouds once more, the rain coming again. Abreon looked at his empty ration can, tossed it and rolled back into his pit. Another day came and went. Abreon began to suffer from dehydration. He thought it was ironic that all around him was water, but he did not dare drink it. He kicked around in his pit full of water. There seemed to be something decomposing below the water, in the pit with him. He closed his eyes and tried to sleep. On the third day, a solider on a supply sled was seen in the distance. Abreon eagerly attempted to flag him over. The soldier saw Abreon in the distance and worked his way over to him. The sled slowed and spun in the mud before Abreon. It kicked up the mire, the mud flying over Abreon’s head. The soldier took off his helmet, placed it on his sled and opened the sleds packs, “Muck and mire everywhere.”
Abreon climbed up his pit and onto the soaked ground, looking down at his muddy suit, “Yes… I need food and water.”
The soldier took out and handed him his nutritional bars and a disposable plastic water thermos, “Long range sensors indicate clear skies tomorrow. The shelling will begin at dawn, in earnest for another ground assault.”
Abreon took the food and water, drinking the water, “Can I have more?”
The solider closing his packs saying, “No.” as he drove off again on his sled to serve other Nenthar soldiers.
Abreon looked up at the sky. A strobe on his helmet, partially submerged in the pit began to flicker. It was a communication signature. He took his helmet, switched on his transceiver and looked at the frequency it displayed. It was still on the secure channel. The transceiver showed him the incoming signal was also on the secure channel. There was no need to match channels. Unfortunately, he also knew who was attempting to contact him. He spoke into the helmet, “Abreon.”
“Abreon, Drean here. You are summoned to meet with me for a formal reprimand.”
“Why!”
Drean angrily, “You know very well what you did was wrong.”
Abreon began to walk. He needed to find the field headquarters before the shelling began, “I know what I did! I know the truth!”
“You collapsed two tunnels and many died!”
Abreon could not believe what he was hearing. He snapped his helmet on and coded in a string of numbers unlocking the directions to the nearest field headquarters, “I saved many more and you know we should not have been digging that deep under the river!”
Abreon walking through the drying tunnels, tearing a nutritional bar, foil wrapper with his teeth, eating, it and yelling at the same time, “I did what was right!”
“You killed your own!”
They walked toward the company field headquarters, one of several, “I killed to survive! It is the same whether I killed a Nenthar or a Xelon Dru! Death is death and they all have mothers and wives. This war is a farce and I kill to survive in your warped corporate dreams.”
Drean: “No”
“Yes! This is sick! In war, you fight for survival! Those who survive win, you’re not out there! You know it as well as I know it. I did not sign up for this war. I was working as an engineer in your multinational a thousand kilometers from here with a wife and two children!” them more solemnly Abreon added, “You made me a killer Drean, your company did.”
“You got yourself a fine and a reduction in your stock options! If you keep ongoing you will also be headed for a formal inquiry!”
Abreon held back his continuing rage. They entered the bunker, other officers there and many guards. Abreon found a seat at a nearby table, “The truth hurts, Drean, Commander?”
“Good! Let the truth out! Let our high commanders know that whether you’re a DM or a Nenthar we are all are equal!” They will hang you for it!”
Abreon in dismay, “You’re twisting the truth!”
Drean smiled devilishly, “You think you know, don’t you?”
Abreon sat in the spacious bunker, with its white walls and two tables. One table was wider than the other. Drean sat next to him. There were a couple of Majors sitting at the second table. All of them sat under the behind bright overhead lights. Abreon put his helmet upon the floor, which was steel gray, the walls cold steel as well. A soldier came from an office toward the rear of the bunker with a carafe and coffee cups. He placed the cups next to each soldier and poured them all a strong cup of hot coffee. Abreon took the first sip; he had not had hot fresh coffee in quite a while. Before him from right to left were: Uewno, and another whom he would be introduced named Maven. For some time all of them were quiet were quiet. Then Uewno asked Abreon, “Abreon, this is not a formal inquiry but you do know why we are all here, don’t you?”
Abreon clasping his hands together, upon his table, watching Drean, her black hair cut close to the scalp, but
not to the point of non-control, her hair smeared down, over her disheveled bangs, her small frame apparent under her suit. Abreon rubbed his thick, heavy brown hair, mostly falling back over his face, his muscular body concealed under his thick suit. He was tired, “I am here because I ran tunnel number 33 into the enemy’s line, indirectly caused the deaths of many on both sides of the conflict, caused the indirect destruction of heavy equipment, caused the failure of a significant number of O-rings and caused the detonation of flammable liquids which produced the collapse of a second main tunnel.”
Uewno to Abreon, “Well, in essence you are correct.”
Abreon, “Then what is the inquiry for?” noticing Drean staring at him, Abreon breaking eye contact with her.
Uewno correcting Abreon, “No, remember it’s not a formal inquiry.”
Maven now speaking, “My name is Maven. We are just concerned that you fled the tunnels, which had the cascading effect of producing the rest.”
Abreon shook his head and sipping more coffee, “No, digging when we should not and against my concerns caused the results that we observed.” He knew they cared very little for the men or the lost soldiers, but more for the tunnels and equipment and the fact he disobeyed orders, questioning them in general.
Uewno: “Now we are here to
The war at the river Zitar Nuo Page 4
