Lords of Kobol - Prelude: Of Gods and Titans

by Edward T. Yeatts III

rocked Ares back and forth.

  "Frak!" Hephaestus yelled.

  Gaia shook her head and began to read the names, "Phocus, Thalia, Clio, …"

  "Oh, no," Bia said. "Little Enyo!"

  Gaia nodded and added, "Pontus, Asteria and Hyria." Karin lowered her face into her hands and was wracked with sobs. Gaia rubbed her back and tried to console her.

  The pilot spoke through the headsets again, "We're nearing the shore. We'll be deck-side on the ship in ten."

  Asteria, Zeus thought. Leto's sister. She'll be devastated. He looked over at Bia. Her eyes were closed and she was shaking her head.

  "We're going to find out who did this right?" Hephaestus yelled. "We're going to find the frakkers, right?" His animated protests disturbed Bia and she put her hand on his chest.

  Zeus held Hera's hand tightly. His mind filled with and pored over the image of Cronus. For the first time, his thoughts didn't dwell on the Cronus he once called "father."

  LX

  CYCLOPS

  108 Years Before the End

  Two centuries of Cyclops moved along either shore of a drought-stricken river. Their human commanders trailed them and looked at maps as they walked. A newer Cyclops unit, one with black armor and an infrared sensor eye held up its hand and stopped the groups.

  Another Cyclops knelt under a large tree branch and looked into a telescanner. Upstream, there were fortifications. On either side of the river in the midst of a bend, sandbags, bricks and stones marked the position of several dozen men. The unit noted the weaponry and returned to its centurion.

  In a rather low volume, its speakers said, "We should report to the commander."

  The black-armored Cyclops nodded and turned toward the rear of the column. The newer models had quieter servos, but the gold-armored soldier accompanying it was still loud and alerted the humans to their approach.

  "Centurion?" the tribune said.

  The unit saluted and answered, "This soldier has discovered the enemies' fortifications and has a report."

  The tribune lowered her computer panel and waved over three other humans. A male commander, another tribune, and a praefect came out from under the shade of a tree. They looked toward the centurion who then looked toward the soldier unit. Only the sound of the running water was audible for several seconds before the centurion prompted it, saying, "Report."

  "I have identified forty-four humans visible with an unknown number of other humans concealed in makeshift fortifications in the upcoming riverbend one hundred sixty meters ahead." The female tribune raised her panel and manipulated the map to display the bend. "I noted the uniforms of both Doria and Thoria."

  "Gun emplacements?" the praefect asked.

  "Three thirty-three caliber machine guns. The human soldiers were carrying twenty-caliber rifles."

  The commander sighed and quickly shook his head. "Damn."

  The centurion looked toward its soldiers and noted that they were all maintaining position. A few nearby had turned their heads and were listening to the discussion.

  "Those new twenty-cal rifles are bastards. They tore up cohort three last week."

  "The thirty-threes are worse. Three of them there? You're sure?"

  The soldier answered, "Yes, commander."

  "Praefect, how many launcher grenades do we have left?"

  "Thirty-two. Enough to get us there but probably not enough to get us the rest of the way down river. We're low on ammo for their rifles, too."

  The commander nodded. "We're supposed to secure the bridge south of Pausa within seventy-two hours. The rest of the legion is behind us, but they can't get there in time."

  The tribune nodded. "Orders, sir?"

  The older commander stood still. He looked at the centurion and tried to imagine the infrared light circling in its eye. "You are to lay down minimal smoke cover, followed by grenade barrage. Then both centuries will rush the emplacements as quickly as possible with minimal fire in transit."

  The centurion said nothing as it considered the orders.

  The male tribune spoke up, "Dominus, given the weaponry they have, I'm concerned we may sustain heavy losses."

  "We probably will," the young praefect said, "but we can combine whatever's left into one century and proceed from there."

  "Will one century be enough to secure the bridge near Pausa?"

  The commander shrugged, "It will have to be." He looked back at the black Cyclops and said, "You have your orders. Dismissed."

  The golden soldier turned to rejoin its squad but the centurion hesitated. It turned and straightened again. The humans watched it as it saluted and said, "Commander, what about an air strike?"

  The commander seemed frustrated and the praefect answered, "Air units are otherwise engaged north of Pausa."

  "Centurion," the commander began, "do you have difficulty comprehending my orders?"

  "Negative, commander."

  "This is the second engagement in the last week where you've questioned them."

  "Negative, commander. I am merely offering alternatives."

  A tribune scoffed and the praefect answered for the agitated commander, "Alternatives have already been considered, centurion. Dismissed." The centurion saluted again and turned toward the front of its century. As it walked away, it heard the commander say, "Frakking tin cans."

  The Cyclops looked at its soldiers and then across the river to its black-armored counterpart. With a quick data burst, the orders were transmitted. An internal clock began ticking down. The centurion motioned for the grenadiers to come forward with their launchers. After dropping the shells into the breeches, the Cyclops aimed through the brush and began to fire.

  Smoke exploded along the river banks. As it did, the grenadiers launched a volley of grenades toward the fortifications. Two struck their targets but did no damage to the heavy weaponry there.

  The Cyclops ran into the fray. As the units moved abreast, some trudged through the water. Their mechanics reverberated in the river valley only to be drowned out by the sound of the enemies' thirty-threes.

  The centurion had not seen this weapon in battle yet. It had experienced the standard twenty-caliber machine guns and rifles, but this was something else entirely. Each round was launched with a deafening explosion. Two projectiles struck a unit just ahead of the centurion. The force was so great, the soldier's arm was knocked off, striking the centurion square in the chest. More grenades were fired but the thirty-threes did not quieten.

  The centurion moved toward the trees and away from the river itself. It looked at its command and saw several Cyclops running straight for the bend. Most of the others were dispersing along the river and in the bushes. A few units were even crouching in the open, cowering.

  The black Cyclops raised its weapon and began to fire at the gun nest on the right. Nearby soldiers opened fire, too. With each trigger squeeze, five bullets were loosed from the barrel. They struck the gun, but the surrounding armor was too resilient.

  The human gunner found them. The muzzle flash pierced the smoke and the deep booms came for the centurion. One round grazed its shoulder, peeling back a strip of armor. The Cyclops pulled away and looked to the rear of the century. Bullet after bullet struck a golden soldier with sickening clangs. It fell backward lifelessly as another unit was struck in the head and neck. Its sensor ring was immediately shattered and its hexagonal face fell forward; its head dangled from the few cables that hadn't been severed.

  The centurion froze. Stray rounds splashed into the water causing a spray to fall over a destroyed unit and a comrade that tried to rouse it. Enough.

  The centurion sent a new order to its counterpart, wherever it was, and then transmitted a new command to its century. Retreat.

  The thirty-threes continued to fire, striking some Cyclops in the back as they ran. The centurion got to the thick trees where they first observed the enemy earlier and held back some branches. It waved its
units on and guided them into safety behind some low river rocks. Across the river, the other black-clad centurion arrived in its starting position carrying the torso of a damaged soldier. The centurion could hear the commander yelling. A charge ran through its system as stray bullets ricocheted off the valley wall and snapped branches.

  "What the frak is going on? Who gave the order to retreat?"

  The centurion stepped forward and saluted, "I did, commander."

  The older man shook his head. His mouth began to form words but no sound emerged. The centurion saw that the female tribune was gathering a casualty list on her computer panel when the praefect decided to speak.

  "Centurion, perform a self-diagnostic."

  It nodded and did so. After several seconds, it was done. "Negative for internal damage or any anomalies." The other century's centurion had crossed the river and was now standing beside it.

  "I have the damage report, dominus," the tribune said.

  The commander took the glass panel from her and read out loud. "'Thirty-one units destroyed. Forty-eight damaged.'" He angrily pushed it back into the tribune's hands and stepped into the centurion's face. "What the frak did you think you were doing out there?!"

  "I was attempting to preserve my soldiers, commander."

  "It doesn't sound like you did a good job of it!"

  "We were outgunned, commander."

  "You didn't push forward! You didn't push hard enough!"

  "We did, commander. Due to their weaponry, we did not reach the halfway mark."

  The commander shook his head. He grabbed the corner of the Cyclops' breastplate and spoke