“In front of you there are directions. You’re all ward leaders, men and women who own shops or businesses in Rohania. These documents will provide you with the information you need to organize your wards. Weapons and supplies will be provided. What your people may lack in training they will certainly make up for in enthusiasm. The Knights will not be able to stop a full rebellion,” Susa calmly reassured them.
Silence crept over the room, the ward leaders scanning through their briefs.
“If you do not wish to be part of this uprising that is your decision. All I ask is you make this decision quickly. For those of you who do not wish to continue, please leave now,” Susa requested.
Leo watched the ward leaders fidget around the table, a few appearing anxious to leave, but they all remained. The darkness hid the nervous brows of these men and women, who had gone from struggling business owners to rebels overnight. Most of them had no experience with fighting, something they all lived amongst for so long.
Susa, however, was no stranger to fighting or rebellions. She had lived her entire life amongst those fighting to make the world a better place. In the beginning years, when Tisaia rose out of the ashes of war, she had been part of the TDU. She knew this experience wasn’t something she could pass onto the ward leaders through words on a piece of paper. She couldn’t expect them to fully grasp the task in front of them. All she could do was hope they would follow through with what she asked of them.
Susa looked around the room one more time, briefly studying the faces of each of the men and women she was relying on the most.
“Thank you for staying. I truly appreciate your bravery, and soon Tisaia will as well. Are there any questions?” Susa asked, pausing to glance around the room and study the anxious faces. Silence swept over the room and she continued. “If there are no questions, then this meeting is adjourned. Good luck and Godspeed,” Susa said, blowing out a candle, grabbing her rifle and heading for the cobblestone streets above.
Time: 7:01 a.m. February 29, 2071
Location: Rohania, Tisaia
Squad 19 sat perched on the first floor of an abandoned high rise, never repaired from the nuke that peeled back its layers of metal like a doctor cutting into flesh with a sharp knife. They watched the gray dawn break on the horizon, cold and dense. In the distance flames licked the skyline, smoke billowing above the CRK headquarters and Capitol, now nothing more than smoldering craters in the ground.
The sight sent a chill down Spurious’ spine, a relief so overwhelming it could almost be confused with joy. But joy wasn’t the proper word to describe the destruction he saw in the distance. Amongst the lifeless bodies of Governor Felix, Commander Augustus and their army of barbaric Knights lay many of his co-workers—collateral damage in a war that spared no one.
Spurious shook the images of death from his mind. The civilians, Lana, and his parents weren’t the only deaths being grieved. Squad 19 had not been able to mourn Obi or Nordica either. The time for grieving would come, but first Squad 19 had one last mission to complete.
A shrieking explosion broke through the morning gray haze as an ammo depot exploded somewhere in the city. The flash blinded Spurious momentarily. He shielded his naked eyes, but it was of no use; his vision was clouded with stars.
“Here, take these.” Ran said, handing him Nordica’s night vision goggles. “She has no use for them now,” Ran said, a slight whimper in his voice.
“Thanks,” Spurious replied.
A pair of heavy boot steps interrupted them, prompting the two to turn and watch Creo enter the room, his radio blaring to life.
“Listen,” he shouted, an excited grin on his face.
“We’ve captured the CRK garage. Facing light resistance. If the TDU is out there we have…” a pause of static broke over the channel. Creo shook his wrist and smacked the radio in frustration, but only static hissed out.
“We have four Fox Hounds and a dozen Scorpions. Need assistance. Over.”
“Holy shit,” Nathar said, clapping his hands in excitement.
“Roger. TDU here, identify yourself.”
Static broke out over the channel for several moments.
“This is Mulia. Immigrant from liberated Camp #4. We have captured the vehicle garage and are coordinating a counter offensive with wards in Rohania. We need TDU assistance as soon as possible. Over.”
“Roger. What is your location? Over,” Creo asked.
“Two blocks from the CRK headquarters, just south of the SGS building.”
“I know where that is!” Spurious shouted, interrupting the transmission.
“Roger. Give us 15 minutes. Hold your position!” Creo shouted into the radio.
Ajax slung his rifle around his shoulders and took one last glance out the broken window, glassing the city below. “This is our chance. I have always wanted to drive a Fox Hound. Let’s move out!”
Time: 8:11 a.m. February 29, 2071
Location: Lunia, Tisaia
“Be careful!” Creo yelled over the Fox Hound’s intercom. He gripped his arm rests tightly, the vehicle tearing out of the metal garage and shredding the slightly ajar door before plunging onto the cobblestone streets below.
“Hold on!” Ajax shouted, gripping the controls tightly. He took a hard left, scraping the side of a maintenance building, a trail of sparks raining down on the tank’s armor.
The tank barreled down the street, cracking the ancient bricks below its heavily chained tires.
“Any targets yet, Nathar?” Ajax asked, peering through a small slit above the control panels.
Nathar rotated into a comfortable position at his weapon station, trying to make sense of the battle blue screens connected to cameras built into the armor of the tank. The four holographic screens gave him a 360 degree view of the streets.
“Nothing yet, sir, but I’m picking up chatter over the radio.” He paused, pushing one of the padded ear phones against his head and straining to listen.
“Sounds like the remaining Tin Cans are dug in at the Golden Dome and there are sporadic pockets of resistance between our location and the arena.” Nathar paused again, desperately trying to make sense of the radio chatter overwhelming the channel. “I’m also hearing they have RPGs set up on roof tops a few blocks from here. So stay sharp,” Nathar finished.
Creo took another glance through the scope, the empty streets emerging through his viewer.
“Keep an eye on those rooftops,” Ajax shouted over the tank’s intercom.
Creo scanned the skyline, stopping on an abandoned high rise decapitated by the blast from a nuke decades ago. Something in the tangled metal was moving, and then a flash of light, a black dot breaking through the gray haze, with a flaming trail behind it.
“RPG!” he screamed, bracing against the metal skin of the tank wall, his hands covering his ears tightly.
The missile plowed into the side of the tank, creating an expensive dent in the armor before exploding and rocking the tank to its right side.
Creo attempted to recover, but his ears were ringing and vision blurred. He rubbed his eyes and squinted into the scope, gripping the joystick tightly. As the outline of the two Knights came into focus, he didn’t hesitate in pulling the hard metal trigger. He watched the uranium tipped projectile sail towards the rooftop; a flash of light blinding him, the floor where the Knights once stood disappearing in an orange explosion.
Creo laughed. “Holy shit!” he yelled. “I turned them to scrap metal!”
“Stay sharp.” Ajax instructed. “There could be more.”
Creo regained his composure quickly, firing off another shell towards a Scorpion at the end of the street where two more Knights fired a .50 cal.
He watched the white streaks of lead racing towards them and listened to their harmless pings ring out on the tank’s armor. Creo couldn’t help but smile. It was the first time in his life the .50 cal bursts from a Scorpion had no way of killing him.
He peered back into his scope and pulled
the trigger, listening to the shell explode out of the tank’s gun. The first shot went wide, shattering the foundation of a stone building and lifting the Scorpion into the air from the blast. He squinted again, waiting for the cross hairs to line up with the Scorpion, but the Knights were already retreating. He watched them peel off the curb, shredding a tire before escaping down the cobblestone street.
Creo stomped the metal floor of the tank. “Damn, missed them,” he yelled over the intercom.
“It’s okay, they’re heading towards a pocket of Rohanian rebels,” Nathar said, studying his blue screen intensely. “We’re only a block from the dome.”
“Creo, keep an eye out for more RPGs. A few more direct hits and we’re toast.” Ajax said.
“Yes, sir.”
Creo took a deep breath and squinted into the scope again, observing the same empty street, a few of the buildings raging with flames. The rooftops were empty, no heat signals.
The tank reared sharply to the left and slowed, the magnificent Golden Dome coming into focus. A trail of smoke roared out of a gaping hole in the dome, sending a chill down Creo’s back. On the ground, hundreds of Rohanians and immigrants surrounded the structure. He scanned the countless men and women, their faces blurry through the gray morning.
“Holy shit, will you look at that?” Ajax said. “If Obi could only have seen this.”
Nathar blinked, rubbing his eyes. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. The blue screens showed the entire Golden Dome surrounded. Rohanians sat perched on rooftops, in office windows, against concrete barriers, and hidden behind trucks. The Knights were trapped.
“Guys, I’m hearing chatter that the other Knight positions have already fallen. This is it. This is the last of them!” Nathar shouted.
“Get Ran on the line. I want him to bring Spurious to our location asap,” Ajax ordered.
* * *
With a deep groan, Ajax unlocked the gmetal hatch to the Fox Hound, swinging it open like a cupboard door. Cautiously he stuck his head out, barely flinching as two stray bullets ricocheted off the tanks armor.
“Damn,” he said, surveying the hundreds of Rohanian rebels and immigrants surrounding the Golden Dome. He watched the small army advance in awe. They cut through the dense fog crawling across the gray field, undeterred by the sniper bullets cutting through the silence of the morning.
“Over here, Ajax!” a voice yelled from the street.
The monstrous soldier turned to see Spurious running towards the tank.
“We have the Knights surrounded and the rest are on the run. The rebels are waiting for orders!” he yelled ecstatically.
Ajax climbed out of the tank, Nathar and Creo close behind.
“Take cover!” Ajax exclaimed, ducking behind the safety of the armor. Another sniper bullet ricocheted off the metal, a ping echoing in his ears.
Creo crouched beside Spurious, his head hidden behind the safety of the tank’s metal shell. “Who’s calling the shots?” he shouted over the sporadic gunfire.
“A ward leader from Rohania named Susa, apparently. I don’t know. Everything has been chaotic since I arrived with Ran!” Spurious yelled.
Ajax plucked his radio from a velcro strap on his metal chest armor. “Commander Ajax here. Requesting report. Over.”
A pair of voices crackled over the radio, static mixing with the unrecognizable chatter. “Ajax…” Crackle. “Ajax… this is…” Crackle.
“This is Commander Ajax. Come in. Over,” he replied, shaking the radio violently to the sound of more static.
“Ajax, this is Susa. I’m leading the rebellion right now and need assistance from the TDU. We broke the assault up by wards and they’re holding their fire until I give orders to advance.”
Ajax strained cautiously to see over the tank, his orange goggles glowing through the transparent fog.
“Report on status of Knights. Over.” Ajax said, waiting.
“We put their numbers anywhere from 50 to 75 strong. There are several other pockets of resistance, but I’ve already sent several wards and fighters from Camp #4 to assault those positions. The Golden Dome is their last holdout. Most of the Knights perished in the initial attack on the headquarters,” Susa replied.
“Roger. I’ll order my men to bombard the Dome with the Fox Hounds.”
“No!” Susa yelled, interrupting him. “I want the Dome saved at all costs.”
“With all due respect, I don’t give a shit. Unless you want the blood of hundreds of civilians on your hands, then we’re going to turn that building into a crater of ash.”
“You’ll do no such thing!” Susa shouted angrily over the radio. “The Dome needs to be saved. The Capitol is gone now; last I checked, the TDU turned it into a smoking cave. The Dome is the only feasible place to set up a transitional government!”
“She’s lost her freaking mind,” Ajax snorted, cocking his head to glance at his squad.
“This could be a very costly assault, Ajax,” Nathar said, fear in his voice. “The rebels have no chance at taking that building. Not with their weapons. They will be slaughtered.”
“We don’t have a choice; the Knights have refused to surrender. If it were up to me, we would use the Fox Hounds to bombard the building until it’s nothing but ashes, but we can’t win this fight without Susa, or her army.”
Another shot rang out, dropping a rebel in the middle of the field, arterial blood staining the gray dirt a bright red.
Spurious watched the rebel claw at his throat, trying to stop his life source from flowing out, but it was no use. The man twitched a few last times before he became another casualty—another statistic in the war that had already killed so many.
The sudden feeling of Déjà vu gripped Spurious as he scanned the frightened faces peeking out of the fog. He saw the face of a young man dressed in tattered clothes hiding behind a trash can, gripping a shotgun tightly to his chest. He saw the face of an old immigrant crawling towards the fallen rebel who was bleeding out in the field. He saw the face of a young woman crying uncontrollably behind a light pole. And finally he saw a man and woman holding pistols nervously behind a pickup truck. To anyone else they would have been mistaken as ordinary citizens turned soldiers, but to Spurious they were more. They were Ing, Paulo, Lana and his parents.
“NO!” Spurious yelled.
Ajax took a step back from the tank, shocked at his sudden outburst.
“No what?” Ajax asked, studying the young man’s battered face.
“No one else needs to die, Ajax. We’ve lost too many good people. And when the smoke clears we’re going to need trained soldiers to help protect our walls. There are threats in the Wastelands they can mitigate; pirates, raiders, countless other terrors. Let me offer them the chance to surrender.”
Ajax muttered something under his breath. “Spurious, this isn’t your call. Besides, we’ve offered them the chance to surrender and they won’t. We have no choice…”
“What would Obi do?” Spurious asked, cutting Ajax off.
The soldier scratched his beard, recalling a conversation he had with Obi in an abandoned windmill not a month ago. “Save those you can and help those that can be rehabilitated.” The words repeated over and over in his mind.
“Damn, you’re right.” Ajax patted Spurious on the shoulder. They both knew Obi would have done everything he could to save the Rohanians, and to find a useful purpose for the remaining Knights, who were brainwashed into following orders. Obi always saw Governor Felix and Commander Augustus as the real enemy, and believed their mindless minions of Knights were pawns in the larger chess game.
“I’m going to patch a line into the arena and see if you can talk some sense into the lead Knight…” Ajax checked his watch. “Spurious, we won’t have long before our channel is shut down by the rebels, so make this quick,” he said, patting him on the back again.
A scream cut through the morning, another rebel falling to the ground, the victim of a CRK sniper round.
&n
bsp; “You have to hurry! The rebels won’t hold back much longer!” Creo yelled.
Spurious nodded and grabbed a radio from Ran.
“The Knight in charge is Royal Knight Tinus. Good luck,” he replied.
“That’s the Knight that killed the Samoan!” Spurious shouted anxiously.
Ran shrugged. “I don’t care who he is. This isn’t going to work. You can’t trust the Tin Can’s. They will never surrender,” he replied.
Spurious ignored the small soldier, knowing he was still grieving over Nordica’s death. Snatching the radio, he took a knee behind the Fox Hound.
“Royal Knight Tinus come in. Over.”
Static crackled over the radio for several seconds.
“Roger. Tinus here. With whom am I speaking? Over.” His voice was edgy, strained from yelling.
“This is Spurious Timur. I’m a State employee with SGS. I have been authorized to offer you a conditional surrender. Over.”
Tinus laughed. “If you can give me one good reason to talk to a traitor, then I’ll give surrender honest consideration. Over.”
Ran chuckled. “What did I tell you?”
“Shut up, little man. Let him talk,” Ajax growled.
“Royal Knight Tinus. I understand how you may feel right now. Everything you have known has turned upside down within hours. Your work, dedication and loyalty to the State may seem lost, but I can assure you it’s not.”
“You know nothing about dedication and loyalty; you’re nothing more than a traitor!” Tinus yelled, interrupting Spurious.
Spurious stiffened. “I know more about loyalty and dedication than you think. After my parents were killed in the beginning years of the revolution I was sent to an orphanage and later to the University. I became a State employee and have served the State since then. In the past two months everything changed for me. My best friend was killed in the subway attacks; the woman I loved betrayed me and was killed…”
The Biomass Revolution ttc-1 Page 28
