He got into position, clipped on and then jumped. He held his gun at the ready as he flew towards the other end. Jordan, to his flank, was hit and slumped in his harness. Dixie retaliated, firing into some murder holes. He landed with a jolt and unclipped. The remainder of his squad spread out, firing at any enemy, occasionally hitting a friendly in the distance. A flashbang was thrown in, Dixie covered his eyes to avoid the blast. Deafened, but still able to see, he fired on the Yellows who entered. They fell, but more replaced them. Unable to find cover, Dixie was shot in the leg and fell. A Yellow levelled his rifle at him and then fell to the ground. His comrades fell with him.
The Defiant came flying in, unclipping as he landed and seamlessly continuing to fire his pistol into the advancing Yellows. A fragmentation grenade was thrown into the room but was caught with the glow of blue energy. This was the first time Dixie had seen the fabled powers of his leader. He had not given the rumours credence. He had chalked it up to cults and fanaticism. He was only fine having James as a leader due to the loyalty he inspired. He had even felt bitter. Darren deserved the leadership. He had inspired the liberation of Underbelly Alpha. James had been a pretender. Dixie just didn’t want to rock the spaceship. Never had he truly thought James to be a God. Now he was a believer.
James caught the grenade and tossed it back through the doorway, keeping it there so it couldn’t be thrown back. It detonated.
‘Medic, take care of him,’ he ordered, pointing at the wounded Defiant bearing a crude strike leader emblem on his shoulder.
‘Why you never do stuff like that in prison?’ Alex Yurgan asked, taking his place by the doorway.
James grunted in response.
A tattooed woman with a short ponytail entered, leading a child. The child had obviously been crying, but her eyes shone when she saw James. Her mouth opened in awe.
‘Captain Erryn, is it?’ James asked.
The lady nodded. To James’ relief, she didn’t bear the same reverence for him that infected many of the other Defiant.
‘Status report, Captain?’
‘Vanguard has secured half the complex. After blowing open these holes for you, we set up footholds and have been expanding.’
‘Casualties?’
‘Not sure, Defiant.’
‘Call me James.’
‘Not sure, James.’
‘Let’s not delay,’ James announced to the room, as it filled with more Defiant. ‘Play it safe. Reinforce the vanguard. Stick to squads. You know the drill. Move out!’
‘Right behind you, Strike Leader,’ Grugo added.
James smiled. ‘Let’s go.’
The hallways were empty of living combatants. Dead Defiant and Yellows were strewn across the complex. Spent shells flooded the floor. Ascending the complex, James did not see any combat. When they met living combatants, they were friendly. They reported no sign of Dedelux.
‘The zot must be at the top,’ Ryan commented, checking his magnum’s rounds despite the lack of fighting. For someone who claimed to be sick of the violence, he was eager to serve in James’ squad.
‘Penthouse would make sense. Should have just let Aegis bomb the top,’ Nathan added.
‘And let us miss out on the fun?’ James replied, snidely. His grin disappeared off his face as he saw movement behind Nathan. Marshal also spotted it.
‘Yellow!’ Marshal shouted.
It was too late. The Yellow shot.
James dove forward and emanated Warp from his conduit. He caught the bullet a centimetre from Nathan’s head. Marshal shot the Yellow as Nathan stared at the bullet as it floated in mid-air.
‘Please get out of its way,’ James asked, straining a little.
Nathan complied, scarred face as white as a blizzard. James released the round and let it fly into a mural of Dedelux fighting Zangorians. Nathan fell to his knees, panting.
James put his hand on his shoulder, smiling. ‘Seems we’re even.’
Nathan only rubbed his Silver-T.
James’ squad met up with others as they reached the top floor of the Keep.
‘We only just got here,’ a Defiant named Annabelle commented.
‘We’re spent, James,’ Frank McGraff explained, indicating his wound and empty magazine.
‘No worries. We’ll take the front. It’s a small room. Can’t be too many.’
James’ squad took the front, Grugo and Ryan holding the energy shields.
‘Fire at will. We don’t need prisoners.’
The shield-bearers kicked open the door. Nathan, now recovered, James and Marshal fired over the shields and hit four Yellows. Dedelux had just left, his body a blur as bullets followed him.
‘After him!’
James took the lead, channelling Warp to pull the inner door off its hinges. Dedelux, his back to James, was within. James opened fire just as Dedelux jumped out the window, cape fluttering in the harsh wind.
James darted to the edge where he could see a hatch on a Berrin ship closing.
‘We need a rocket launcher!’
Marshal and Ryan passed down the message but the man with the rocket launcher arrived too late as the Berrin fighter sped out of range towards the atmosphere.
‘Skite. Grako zot,’ Grugo swore, kicking a waste basket.
Marshal radioed Commander Peterson.
‘Get fighters in the air. Tail the grako!’
Erryn was ripped from Jilly’s arms as duty called. She wasn’t a fighter pilot, but she knew how to fly. Others joined her as they sped to catch the dictator of Nova Zarxa.
James remained in the office, staring out the window where Dedelux had jumped. From his vantage, he could see Nexus Hub and many other buildings aflame. But no Yellow still drew breath.
It was time to get to work.
“You filfs don’t have the talent. What you have is me and your Conduit. So, listen to my instructions or go back to the lancer corps!” Imperial Warpmancer trainer
Chapter 26. Mind and Soul
From the rubble of Nexus, the silver city, great fortresses rose. Defiant, Grag-Tec, Aegis and the willing survivors of the civil war all pitched in to construct anti-orbital weapons, bunkers, safe zones and all manner of defences. The starports were once again open, and once traders realised the free market mind-set of the conquerors of Nova Zarxa, commerce flocked to the planet, cheaper tariffs than Dedelux’s being used to fund the Defiant war machine. Aegis and Grag-Tec, from self-interest or duty, both aided in the repair and fortification of the planet.
James was not a leader of peace. He could lead a squad through a battlefield. He could make a man smile as he died. His aura of authority was strong, and his prowess inspired the stronger willed. In times of peace, the interim between conflict, he delegated. The likes of Darren Peterson had risen to strong leadership roles in combat and during these peaceful times. He led the construction efforts in Nexus proper, with his delegates venturing out with Aegis and Grag-Tec officials to construct turrets and fortifications across the planet. While costly, the corporations saw the necessity of this venture and the flourishing trade on the frontier funded most of the defences. Some commented that with the deregulations, business had never been better than it was now. Even the rich and plastic looking cronies of Dedelux began to remain silent as their businesses churned out record profits. The times were good for the Zarxian tradesmen and entrepreneur. Very few outsiders would note that this was a planet preparing for a siege – if they didn’t peer out the window.
Huge mechs, armies of syns, large vehicles, repurposed gunships – all contributed to the construction of the fortresses and defences of the city and planet. Massive guns, force-fields, garrisons, bunkers. Nexus, despite its increasingly liberal atmosphere, was to be a fortress.
James observed this construction from a much lower point than most of Nexus, as he stood facing a giant construction syn as it held up the barrel of an orbital cannon. He wore his gasmask, as there was no protective glas
s this low down. This was a disused service room. Its old occupants used it too sparingly to justify the expensive sealed windows of Nexus proper. From here, James and Krag-Zot continued his training.
‘The construction will continue with or without your observation, Boymancer,’ Krag-Zot sighed. ‘Pay attention to the lesson.’
James walked away from the opening and sat down opposite the cross-legged Areq.
‘Your raw power is strong, and this helped you win the rebellion for your people. You gave them their freedom with your power. But it will not be enough against the Imperials. The Edal and Ulyx are both races adept at Warpmancy. Like our duel, they will twist your power against you. You need to attain the concentration and willpower befitting a Warpmancer.’
James nodded, the gesture overly emphasised to show through his mask.
Krag-Zot drifted his hand across the space between his crossed legs. A trail of blue smoke followed, forming into groups of people in motley groups.
‘You have gained the power, the followers. By raw force, your rebels overtook this city. But it was a tide against an undefended shore. The Imperials are different. They will come down as a hammer of the apocalypse. They are organised. They are relentless. Your people need discipline. They need a leader who can give them freedom.’
‘My people’s power is their freedom, Krag-Zot.’
Krag-Zot chuckled.
‘Naïve. Your people’s power is their loyalty to you. They do what they need to do, with your guidance. Freedom isn’t taken, it is given by the powerful.’
‘Wrong, Krag-Zot. Your Warp analogy may stand within your conception of freedom, or maybe if referring to your civilisation, but we’re different. Zonians fought oppression long before I became the Defiant. My rule is a sham. I help them and warn them of the coming danger, but I wasn’t their saviour. They saved themselves. They took freedom for themselves.’
Krag-Zot crossed his arms, a very human gesture. James continued.
‘I was in a cell when they took their own freedom. They worked together, yes. They had their leaders. But they chose those leaders. They chose to be led. Maybe, even, they chose me.’
‘The masses are cattle, Boymancer. They are instinctively drawn to the powerful. They naturally fought their oppressor, as is their nature, but despite your claim that they are powerful, they subjugate themselves to you.’
‘I ain’t subjugating anyone,’ James said through gritted teeth.
‘Not willingly. Alas, you are a slave to yourself. We are all slaves to our own whims – often more than others. A greater power grants us freedom from our inward weakness. They give us discipline. They deliver us from the chaos.’
‘Is this what they taught on Resh? Probably good its dead.’
Krag-Zot looked visibly stung, taken aback.
‘I’m sorry,’ James rescinded. ‘That went too far.’
Krag-Zot looked at the ground between his metal legs. His illusions were gone.
‘Have I ever told you what an Immortal was to do on blessed Resh?’
James shook his head, relieved at the change of topic.
‘We were protectors. We became powerful. We sacrificed ourselves so that we could give our people their freedom. We freed them from chaos, from disease, from invaders. We freed them from the bloody urges that constantly almost brought our species to extinction. We tried to protect them until the end. We failed.’
James remained silent.
Krag-Zot eventually looked up.
‘This is why we train. I failed to protect my people on this vile rock that was once my love. Now I will see you succeed or fail in protecting your people, while they are still left. Protect them in any way you want – the dangerous and capricious freedom you so love, or the freedom from strife that we once promised. Maybe you’re right. We failed. We couldn’t end strife. Our freedom was unattainable. Maybe you will have better luck.’
Krag-Zot stood.
‘Our time grows short. Any hour could herald Imperial invasion. Stand up.’
James complied.
‘Toss that pan.’
James bent down and lifted the practice pan. He then threw it like a disc. Krag-Zot pointed at the pan as it flew and then clicked. A shard of energy shot out and snapped the pan in two.
James jumped in a rare showing of surprise.
‘A protector destroys,’ Krag-Zot explained, his white face showing no signs of emotion. ‘A Warpmancer constructs and deconstructs reality to their whim. Grasp the Warp, shape reality. Don’t just take what is there. Bring the Warp into physical existence. Shape it like my illusions, give it form. Then send it into your foes.’
Hours after, James learnt how to send his own Warp shards into the air. The casualties were the entire collection of assorted targets Krag-Zot had been using since the beginning.
James lightly kicked a piece of one of the pans he had struck in two. The seam glowed blue and then faded to a scorched black. James didn’t need them anymore for precision practice. But this wanton destruction was not the cause of James’ sombre jubilation. In shaping the shard, James realised something else. The Warp could be used not only to manipulate what already existed physically, but to completely fabricate reality itself.
Erryn’s mind and soul wept. Her face was dry. Her eyes were not red, but she wept. Nobody stared at her anymore. She had become a common sight outside Jilly’s abode, where the kid brooded these days. Erryn also brooded from outside the charming shanty. Occasionally, all manner of friends, distant family and therapists entered. Jilly remained despondent. Of course, she feigned being okay. She tried to accept what she had done. She was too smart for that though. Erryn knew that Jilly wasn’t some drone that could get over killing a guy. She was a thinker. Unfortunately, this thinking hurt her, deeply.
‘Still sitting here, Captain?’
Erryn looked up to see the face of Sergeant Yobu. He offered a steaming cup. Erryn accepted and drank. It was coffee. Erryn’s eyes widened and she took another gulp, scorching her tongue without any regret.
Yobu chuckled.
‘Shipment came in from Grengen. First real coffee I’ve had in years.’
‘Last time I tasted coffee this good was in Scorpius Prime. Too bad it was just a dream and I woke up missing a kidney. But wow, this stuff is amazing.’
Yobu smiled. And then indicated to the space next to her. She nodded and he sat.
They sat in silence, for a while, just watching. With Dedelux’s reign over, Zonians were now allowed to purchase and rent property around the city. Even the xenophobes complied, first through fear and then through the power of the mighty Credit. The Defiant now paid their soldiers, and the families could upgrade their abodes. Many homes had unfortunately been left ownerless by the civil war, so it was unclear how their allotment would be decided. As much as it visibly seemed to pain the Defiant himself, he had publicly announced the seizure of properties left without any clear owner. The properties were then converted to military means or sold to fund the war effort.
War effort. That was something Erryn was sceptical about. The war was over. Dedelux lost. Zonians had a new planet. Why did they continue to act like they were fighting? All Defiant knew of the mechs and construction crews being used to construct the weapons and fortresses outside. James, the Defiant, was preparing for a siege. Whispers said Imperials. Zarxians and some Zonians tried to refute these claims. Erryn didn’t know what to believe.
Finally, Yobu broke the silence.
‘Why did you join the Defiant? You ain’t a Zonian. Not even a real oppressed Zarxian. You’re shipborn.’
Erryn shrugged.
‘I’m still not sure myself. Revenge, I’d like to think. Dedelux impounded my ship. But could just as easily blame the rebellion for aggravating him. Could also say principle. I don’t like being tethered. I don’t like bullies. Defiant stood up to a bully, should be enough. But even that ain’t it.’
She paused for a long time. Yobu filled the gap.<
br />
‘You know my story?’
Erryn shook her head.
‘I was in James’, I mean the Defiant’s, squad back on Zona Nox. He saved us. Took us across that bleeding desert and saved us straight from a Xank ship. I was only serving on Zona Nox for a day. I don’t think he knew, but I didn’t have any idea what I was doing. But I didn’t need to. He led us through there. He inspired us to be greater men. He turned gangsters, Troopers, aliens…into comrades. When we got here and Dedelux, my commander, started killing James’ people...when he arrested him. It wasn’t really a choice. I’m a Trooper. I stick to the black and red, but if being a Trooper meant not serving under that boy, now a man, I’d rather be defiant.’
‘Thanks, Yobu,’ Erryn finally replied. She meant it. Yobu found the response odd, but didn’t press.
Erryn was truly thankful. James inspired Yobu and his men. Erryn was different. James was powerful, but he meant little to her. What meant so much to her, no matter how short a time or how miniscule their life had been together, was seeing a little girl struggling to put up a poster twice her size, but never giving up. That girl now lay in the house behind her, a victim of Erryn’s stupidity.
Why did I bring her with? Because she wanted to come. War is no place for children. Jilly ain’t your child. But she’s still a child.
‘I shouldn’t have let her on that ship.’
‘We all have regrets, Erryn. We let her on because she wanted to go. Simple as that. I couldn’t say no to that look on her face. Not to say that she is to blame, but neither is it us. We were irresponsible. At least she isn’t dead. It is as good a consolation as any to what she went through.’
Before Erryn could reply, metal-footfalls echoed near them. Yobu stood at attention but James, flanked by two lower-ranking Defiant, waved at him dismissively. Yobu stood at ease and sat down again.
‘What’s he doing here?’ Erryn asked, almost coming out as a hiss.
Rise of the Defiant: Book Two of the Warpmancer Series Page 20
