Warden's Fury

by Tony James Slater

Kyra screwed her face up in disgust. “Seriously? We came all this way for a bucket like that? Shit Kreon, we’ll get blown out of the air before we make orbit. Again. And that’s assuming it even starts.”

  “She will start,” Kreon said.

  Tris hoped that was more than just positive thinking.

  Kyra took point for the next leg, leaving Loader to clank along behind them. The wisdom of this course became evident when the last three mercenaries emerged from the trees, and filled the air behind them with lead. Loader deployed his shields — accompanied by groans of distress from his damaged casing — and the hail of bullets pattered off the industrial-strength metal slabs.

  Tris turned and sent a few volleys of laser fire back their way, causing the men to take cover. They had the high ground, and the broken rocks of the ridge to protect them, but if they stayed there they’d soon be out of range.

  “They could rush us,” Tris warned, sensing just such an option being debated amongst the men.

  “Let them try,” Kreon said.

  It was true; Loader afforded them a measure of invulnerability, making even Tris feel braver. With Kreon and Kyra together and the talos supporting them, the mercs would be nuts to try a close assault. Right?

  But the men weren’t moving closer.

  They were holding their position — had been ordered to hold their position, Tris realised.

  “Uh, Kyra?” he started. “I think they’re waiting for—”

  And with a scream of jet engines, the fighter slashed down from the sky.

  Great blasts of crimson energy slammed into the ground in front of them, causing the air to sizzle. Kyra threw herself backwards, narrowly avoiding being cooked by the backwash; Kreon leapt back too, colliding with Loader.

  The fighter pilot, having made his presence known, pulled out of the dive and skimmed across the meadow at little more than head-height. Lasers stabbed out from the craft, burning great holes in the foliage opposite. In seconds the whole area ignited, the air around the trees blazing in a fierce pyrotechnic display. The eaves of the forest that Kreon had pointed them towards was now a roiling inferno, a wall of fire so tall the fighter had to pull up to avoid getting scorched.

  Tris looked at the firestorm and saw the end of their escape.

  Kreon hauled himself up using Loader for support; Kyra was already on her feet, sending volleys of laser fire towards the circling fighter.

  But the fighter didn’t circle for long.

  “It’s landing,” Kreon confirmed. The conflagration had nearly burned itself out, consuming the trees in seconds. Even the air in the meadow blew hot, like someone had opened an oven door.

  “We still have to go that way?” Tris asked the Warden.

  “We can circle,” Kyra suggested. “But the direct route? That’s up to her.”

  Tris followed the jerk of Kyra’s thumb. The fighter, a sleek-but-battered looking thing of carbon-streaked white, had settled to the ground up ahead. Its pilot had deliberately landed between them and the smouldering forest that was their goal. The cockpit canopy was rising, and both Kreon and Kyra had frozen in place. Even the men behind them had stopped shooting, presumably to witness the spectacle that lay ahead.

  And suddenly, Tris knew why.

  A lithe figure vaulted from the cockpit, white armour stark against the billowing smoke.

  The figure landed easily, pulling the helmet from her head and tossing it back into the cockpit.

  It was Sera.

  And she didn’t look remotely happy to see them.

  “Kreon!” Sera called, striding towards them. “Still hiding behind that infernal machine?”

  Sunlight glinted from something strapped to her back. With a start, Tris realised it was a sword — but one of such ridiculous proportions than not even a renown warrior like Sera could possibly heft the thing.

  Kyra didn’t wait for orders. She snapped off a brace of shots — which Sera deflected with a shimmer of energy surrounding her gauntlets.

  “Get off my world, old man,” Sera said, ignoring Kyra’s attack completely.

  Kreon moved out from behind Loader’s shielding. “I’ll admit, I’m surprised you recalled the place.”

  Sera laughed. “What’s yours is mine, remember? I kept a seat open on my Council for you.” Her eyes narrowed. “Then I pictured you, quailing in fear behind the shields of your talos. Rather like you are now! And I decided that eliminating weakness was the better option.”

  “Weakness, Sera?” Kreon chided. “We are sworn to protect weakness. It is the weak who need us the most. What have the mighty to fear?”

  Sera stared at him, and shrugged. “Once, perhaps, they feared you. Now they fear me. Fear is the constant that keeps them in line.”

  “We are not their masters, Sera. We are their guardians.”

  “Splitting hairs is the purview of the High Warden. But you claimed not to covet the office.”

  “I do not.”

  Sera laughed again. “Yet I do! There was a time when you would have supported me in my bid.”

  “That was before you decided to destroy Earth, and murder every person on the planet.”

  Sera’s tone became whimsical. “Oh Kreon, you’re always so dramatic! I had no intention of destroying Earth. I just wanted to cleanse it. As for removing the population… I call that pest control. But anyway, Demios has convinced me to spare them, at least for now. He believes they will be much in demand, fuelling a market for slaves and spare body parts great enough to fund the reconstruction. I ignored him at first — that man is such a primitive — but perhaps his ideas have merit?”

  “The Wardens will never allow you to set foot on Earth. And neither will I.”

  Sera’s eyebrows raised in apparent delight. “You mean to stop me then? By all means, Kreon. Here I am. Challenge me.”

  Kreon glared at her for a moment, then seemed to sag in on himself. “Don’t make me do this, Sera.”

  She sneered. “Do what, exactly? You can’t beat me. None of you will leave this planet alive.”

  Kreon took a deep breath and sighed it out. “I can’t beat you, he admitted. “But Loader can.”

  And with a tap on the talos’ carapace, Kreon committed him to battle.

  6

  Tris leapt aside as twin hatches swung open on either side of Loader’s battered housing.

  Kyra had slung her rifle and was stalking in the other direction, swords in her hands. Tris freed his glaive and squeezed the handle to extend it, clutching the weapon like a talisman.

  Loader’s combat blades unfurled, spinning up to speed with a chilling whine. Tris backed away instinctively, the others doing the same, allowing Loader room to manoeuvre.

  Only the talos didn’t move forward.

  Facing off against Sera, his blades like rotors angled toward her — he began to reverse.

  Tris fell back further, keeping his attention fixed on Sera through the lethal blur of metal. He cast his mind out to find the others doing the same…

  And still Loader reversed, widening the gap between him and his opponent.

  He was retreating.

  And suddenly, Tris realised the talos didn’t want to fight.

  Not because of what might happen to him, but because of what he would do.

  Loader was afraid.

  And that was the most terrifying thing Tris could imagine.

  “Run,” Kreon hissed, obviously recognising the situation.

  Tris back-pedalled, but couldn’t take his eyes off Sera. She was strolling casually forward, not looking intimidated by the flashing blades. The gap between them grew, as Kreon and Kyra picked up the pace. Tris spun on his heel and raced to catch up, but Loader retreated more slowly, blocking Sera’s approach the whole time.

  Then she laughed, a single peal of cold mirth — and sprang.

  Miniature rockets fired in her boots, the flare of blue light thrusting her high into the air. She easily cleared Loader, the razor edge of his blades spinning futilely b
elow, and landed in a crouch before Kreon.

  The Warden reacted fast, swinging his grav-staff at her overhand, but Sera was faster. Her punch hit him in the chest, that weird energy field shimmering to life as she did. The blow fell like a sledgehammer. Kreon was thrown backwards, flying through the air like a rag-doll to strike one of the few trees in the area.

  Even before he landed Sera was moving again.

  Kyra swung at her with a sword, the weapon rippling like a ribbon as it curved towards her. But Sera had blades of her own, extending from her gauntlets to block Kyra’s strike. At the same time a finger-like appendage unfolded from her shoulder pad, discharging a bolt of brilliant blue light at Kyra.

  Kyra’s cat-like reflexes saved her; she threw herself back, the burst of energy sizzling above her. But she was down, and Sera spun to face Tris.

  Time slowed down as he realised she was about to attack him. She raised one arm to point at him and the gauntlet-blade fired out, gleaming in the sun as it flashed towards him. The glaive was ready in his hands and he brought it smoothly across, catching Sera’s weapon at exactly the right angle to deflect it. But as the first blade pinged off to the side, Sera launched the second. There was no way Tris could deflect it; he was overextended, and it was slicing through the air towards his unprotected head. He had time to wince in preparation for the bite of steel into his face—

  Instead he heard a yell, and felt a rush of air as something whipped past close enough to part his hair.

  Kyra had recovered, her swords’ reach just long enough to save him.

  A second protrusion flipped out from Sera’s other shoulder pad, and both weapons fired together. One shot whipped towards Tris, causing him to hit the dirt; the other targeted Kyra, narrowly missing her as she flung herself aside.

  And Tris suddenly knew that they couldn’t win this.

  He rolled on the ground, coming to his feet to see that Loader had turned, advancing on Sera from behind.

  She didn’t wait around. Her boots fired again, lifting her skyward, and she flipped over in a graceful arc, coming to land on the far side of the talos.

  Loader ground to a halt and began to turn again, bringing his blades around to face her—

  Too late.

  Sera reached up to take the hilt of the gigantic sword on her back. In one fluid motion she drew it, the massive blade swinging high in the air — and sliced it deep into Loader’s carapace.

  Loader screamed.

  The sound was awful. Tris hadn’t known the talos was capable of such noise; an electronic shriek which drowned out the screech of Sera’s sword cleaving metal.

  In a shower of sparks she wrenched the blade free, springing back as Loader’s rotary cutters swung around. Tris was torn — Loader was clearly hurt, but Kyra was racing back to find Kreon.

  As Sera crouched, the sword held in an impossible grip above her head, Tris realised this battle was beyond him. Kyra had reached Kreon and knelt beside him. Tris ran over to them, swapping the glaive for his rifle as he did. The mercenaries in Sera’s employ had used the distraction to close the distance, and were charging down from the ridge.

  Tris sprayed them with fire as they came, one of his shots slamming into an armoured torso and lifting the man off his feet. Tris dropped beside Kreon, keeping his rifle up and firing. His mind quested out to meet Kyra’s, finding hers swirling with rage and frustration. Kreon was unconscious, he knew immediately; the tiny spark of the Warden’s Gift was absent, his mind visible but blank.

  Watch him, Kyra sent as she stood. Her swords were back in her hands. Tris kept firing from the dubious cover of the tree, while Kyra dove out from the far side.

  One of the men paused long enough to shoot at her, but Kyra rolled beneath the bullets and came up with her swords lodged in his stomach. As he died gurgling she was already attacking the next in line, one sword slicing the merc’s machine gun in half a heartbeat before the second one took his head from his shoulders. The last of the mercenaries skidded to a stop, spinning to face Kyra with his weapon raised.

  At which point Tris leant out for a better angle and shot him neatly in the head.

  Kyra saluted him with one sword, then ran back to where he crouched. Kreon was still out cold, and she knelt beside him, feeling for a pulse.

  But her gaze, like Tristan’s, was drawn inexorably back to where Sera faced off against Loader.

  Tris’ heart pounded as he watched the talos rotating slowly on the spot. Sera circled him warily, poised to strike at any moment.

  Tris held his breath. What can we do? he asked Kyra.

  In the middle of that? Not much, came her response.

  Sera feinted left then spun on the spot, the giant sword flashing weightlessly behind her as it came around to strike from the opposite side. Loader turned into the first attack, exposing his flank to the second, and Sera’s sword carved into him again. Instead of leaping clear she followed up, thrusting the sword in deeper. Her armour obviously enhanced her strength considerably, as she drove her blade through the unyielding metal.

  Loader’s housing shook, a gout of flame jetting from somewhere inside him. His own blades faltered, their smooth disc resolving into separate stripes as they lost speed. He made to turn back towards Sera but only one of his treads was functional.

  “Kreon!” Tris yelled, shaking the Warden by the lapels of his trench coat. “Loader’s in trouble! We’ve got to do something!”

  Kreon was far too heavy for Tris to lift, so when he began to rise Tris knew he’d come round.

  Sera’s got Loader, he sent, the flash of thought far quicker than words.

  Kreon’s eyes opened and he hauled himself to his feet, squinting at the battle.

  It was clear the talos was in trouble.

  Smoke and sparks streamed from the holes in his casing.

  Both windmilling combat arms had stopped — frozen in place rather than furling up for storage. Loader was turning, or trying to, and as they watched a pair of heavy-duty manipulator arms emerged from hatches either side of him, reaching futilely towards Sera.

  She ignored them completely.

  Instead, she fixed her attention on Kreon, a cruel smile on her face, as she swung the glittering sword into the talos again, carving another great gash in the top corner of his carapace.

  Then, still smiling, she returned the sword to her back. From somewhere in her armour she produced a small metal sphere about the size of a squash ball, holding it up for them to see. It was only when she stepped forward and dropped it into the fresh hole atop Loader that Tris realised what it was.

  “Shit! A bomb!” He lunged forward, but Kreon flung an arm out, stopping him in his tracks. Kyra grabbed him too, both of them wrestling him into the shade of the tree.

  Tris saw Loader’s manipulator arms jerk as though in shock — then they shot out, latching onto one of Sera’s gauntlets with powerful clamps. Sera struggled against the grip with no chance of escape, a sudden look of panic crossing her face. Then she reached back with her free hand and drew her sword. She was clumsier with it one-handed, but managed to slice through the arms holding her and fling herself backwards, jet boots flaring—

  Just as Loader was consumed in a titanic explosion.

  From ten metres away, Tris felt the heat wash over him. Shards of debris pelted the tree, then began to rain down around them. Tris peeked out and saw a column of black smoke rising from the scorched and twisted piece of metal atop two blackened treads. Chunks of burning metal lay in the grass, starting small fires around them. Of the complex innards that Loader’s housing must have contained, there was nothing left.

  He was gone.

  Pain hit Tris in the gut as the first pangs of loss struck home.

  He wanted to scream.

  Wanted to rage and yell.

  Wanted to cry.

  But there was no time for any of that.

  Kyra grabbed him again, spinning him around to face the forest. The flames there were dying down, though they still
formed an impenetrable barrier. Kreon set off towards them at a run, and Kyra dragged Tris along in his wake. Tris shook her off to run on his own, but he couldn’t help risking a look back at the smouldering wreckage that had been Loader.

  He hadn’t known until this moment just how much the talos meant to him. How much he’d relied on the constant, unflappable, reassuring presence. To have him torn away so violently, so suddenly…

  By Sera.

  He’d saved them all from her.

  And he’d paid the ultimate price.

  Tears streamed down Tris’ face as he ran, wind-blown smoke stinging his eyes.

  Loader! Oh God, no!

  We’ll make her pay, Kyra promised.

  They reached the wall of flame, Kreon leading them as close as they could go without setting their clothes alight. “Hold tight to me,” he instructed them. “Do not let go. This will cause considerable pain; you must be prepared for it.”

  Kyra nodded, moving to Kreon’s left and wrapping her arms around his shoulders.

  Tris copied her on Kreon’s right, only half his mind on what was happening. The rest of it was churning through images of the fight just gone, searching for anything he could have done to alter the outcome.

  “Brace!” Kreon called, and Tris tightened his grip.

  The Warden crouched slightly, then launched himself into the air. His mechanical leg was far stronger than a human limb, powering him into a leap no Earth athlete could ever dream of matching. Tris and Kyra were carried with him, feet flailing, as they sailed towards the blaze.

  Kreon’s vault took them over the broad base of the fire — right into the uppermost tongues of flame.

  For a second, intense heat engulfed Tris. His skin screamed in agony as the fire swept over him — then it was gone, and they were arcing back down through smoke-filled air.

  Tris let go as they landed, rolling free and coming smoothly to his feet. It was a move he’d practiced thousands of times in parkour, albeit without a thirty-foot leap before it. Kreon’s leg absorbed the impact, allowing him to land in a crouch. Kyra had also rolled off, her grace at such a move never in doubt.