Relias: Uprising

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Relias: Uprising Page 14

by M. J Kreyzer


  Since the stories had stopped so abruptly the Legionnaires came up with their own theories on why they had died out. There were many unexplained things in the world and the facts surrounding The Grinder was nothing new. Some thought he had passed on to another dimension, but these stories circulated mainly among the less trained and less educated men of the International Army. The Legionnaire, though not believing Luke was some paranormal force, were convinced that he had abilities that none others possessed. The smart Legionnaires figured and figured correctly that their leadership was concealing these facts from them.

  Morale dropped, enlistment plummeted, and many men who were ordered into the regions around Praemon, Styne and Pyre accepted the consequences of their insubordination as necessary measures of survival and refused to go. But there were several things that they did know.

  First, The Grinder rarely attacked groups of the First Legionnaire larger than two hundred men. Second, he rarely used Elemental, so either he wasn’t a Durant or their stabilizers had some manner of positive effect. Third, if they kept the details surrounding their locations minimal then their chances of getting found by The Grinder were in turn neutralized. But these facts did little to bolster the courage of the First Legionnaire.

  Word of this new adversary came to the ears of the Darks and the tales were no less extravagant, wild, and graphic as they were circulating around the ranks of the First Legionnaire. The Grinder became a faceless celebrity rivaling and in some cases surpassing the popularity of figures such as Thompson and Ranjak. The Grinder’s real name was never heard, though informed individuals, namely the Ditrinity, knew exactly who it was. With every story Hendrick would give his typical laugh, give the nearest person a hard slap on the back and talk about it for several days. Some members found the stories off putting, even disgusting. Sable in particular would react with sadness or remorse, hearing the stories then going quietly off by herself.

  But the Darks now discovered what might have been the most important fact of all. Whoever this Grinder was he was being associated with the Darks and the Darks, in turn, were obtaining that degree of fear amongst their adversaries. And that fact was especially relevant now that the Dark military had been reorganized and sent off to fortify Styne. This newfound fear emboldened Alighieri and the Dark soldiers. They were geared up and ready for a war.

  The Commune and the Legionnaire Command soon found their most effective tactic at controlling the fear of their soldiers: by making their soldiers fear their leaders more than they feared The Grinder.

  Vladmir Frenz, the general of the First Legionnaire, was given full reign of its military operations. He made it known that meeting The Grinder (a term which he found amusing) was an uncertainty. Meeting Frenz was a fact. And Frenz didn’t just stop at killing and torture; Frenz drove you mad with fear because Frenz, like The Grinder, could do things that most others couldn’t. But Frenz used them in the worst ways imaginable and forced them to fear-induced insanity. The First Legionnaire was still the most trained, specialized, and lethal fighting force in the world. Frenz knew that, as pathetic as he thought it was, there was no way he could eliminate the dread and utter terror surrounding Luke Semprys. He did know, however, that the Darks were much more vulnerable and Frenz wouldn’t just train the First Legionnaire to kill; he’d train them to hate, to loathe, to lust for the slaughter and mutilation of the Darks. He’d train them to laugh at their whimpers and smile at their pleas for mercy. He’d condition them to feel joy and excitement in the pain and suffering of their enemies. The First Legionnaire, though perfectly trained and perfectly equipped, was still an army of man. Vladmir Frenz would make them an army of the devil.

  Chapter 11

  Frenz sat at a desk in the middle of his expensive and contemporarily decorated office wearing an expensive white suit and a black silk collared shirt. Resting back in his chair, Frenz relaxed and silently rehearsed his speech while a camera crew set up in front of him. With sound and lighting equipment resting all in every direction, he waited patiently for the crew to finish up.

  Every Legionnaire in the Pretoratan Region, the area of the world that included Pyre, Styne, Praemon, and the whole of both the Sestik and Byfayne Mountain ranges, gathered in assembly halls across the province, waiting for what would evolve into one of the largest briefings he’d ever give. But they were well aware of what the briefing would detail. Or so they thought. With a new wave of troops being unleashed on Styne, in an attempt to reclaim it from the Darks, happening in the coming days, they’d assume the briefing would be nothing more than a glorified pep talk. However, for any member of the Communal Military, be they part of the International Army or the First Legionnaire, it was a rare occasion in which they were so openly addressed by the military’s senior members.

  “The men are seated and we’re ready to go live.” The technical director said, moving behind the cameras with the rest of the crew who stood ready for Frenz’s command. Frenz nodded, giving his silent consent, and leaned forward towards the desk, resting his hands in front of him. The TD held out five fingers, mouthing the numbers as he counted down. Three… two… one… The TD pointed at him and a red light blinked on above the camera’s lens.

  “Gentlemen and the few ladies of the First Legionnaire,” Frenz started, knowing that the eyes tens if not hundreds of thousands of Legionnaires were focused on him. “I would like to start this little gathering off by telling you that it’s a pleasure. I hope you all know that I’m well aware of the fact that direct contact with the Legionnaire High Command is a difficult thing to come by so let me also say that I am apologetic. But considering the fact that we are on the brink of what is sure to be a spectacular and back-breaking assault I figured that, as your General, my remarks are something that might prove beneficial.”

  “Again, knowing that you are all unfamiliar with the faces of the High Command I know that seeing me might make you curious as to who I am. You’ve all heard of me and I’m well aware of the stories and rumors that have circulated concerning my… my exploits, if you will. I would ask, though, that you don’t regard me as a disgusting sadist. That, my soldiers, is an observation subject to societal bias and is a matter of perspective. I am your general, and I will lead you to victory.”

  “My name is General Vladmir Frenz. I was chosen to replace the late General Allred after his untimely and unforeseeable demise and I feel that the timing could not have been more perfect for my selection. I will make my initial remarks concerning the individual that has come to be known as The Grinder. Now I am not going to pander and lie to you and tell you that the stories surrounding The Grinder aren’t true. They are very true and the pain that your brothers suffered at the hands of Luke Semprys was very real. But what has been the most frustrating for me is that, instead of taking these deaths as motivation to fight even harder against the Dark menace you’ve instead allowed it to control you and consume you. You are the First Legionnaire. Your skills, strength, and loadouts are second to none. Don’t be afraid of the Darks. Let their resistance and their ignorance drive you. Let it fuel your rage and feed your fury. When you think of the things you’ve heard about Luke Semprys and those who’ve died at his hand don’t feel fear. Feel anger.”

  “Until this point in time the First Legionnaire has acted with a sense of stoic professionalism. You are not the faceless figures of the Commune. You are the lethal sentinels of peace and righteousness and these rebels, these… Darks, are the offenders. With their beliefs and their lifestyles they are a threat to the Commune and all those who live in it.”

  “Over two hundred people died in the Darks’ assault on Styne even though the Darks are operating on a plane of thinking that they are fighting for Relias. It’s a flawed and hypocritical mindset that proves just as destructive to them as it is to us. We cannot allow a single member of the Commune citizenry to perish as a result of our own inability to stop the Dark menace. As time wears on, though, it appears more and more that we are incapable of providing that lev
el of protection.”

  “Luke Semprys is only one man and he’s a man that can be stopped. And as I said, don’t let these stories make you fearful or apprehensive; use them to anger you, to infuriate you, and take that rage and focus it on the Darks. Luke Semprys and the Darks have used terrorism tactics and it’s time we return the favor a hundred times over.”

  “Their accusations of torture and cruelty are ungrounded and false. There are no actions that justify the brutality shown towards the Legionnaires at Slaughter Canyon and around the world. They are criminals, and sick ones at that. And for their sins we will destroy them and show the world how the Commune deals with terrorists.”

  “These Darks desire the deaths of your families, your husbands, your wives, children, and they will not end their campaign until they’ve overthrown the Commune or they’ve been destroyed. Let’s make it the latter, shall we?”

  Frenz had to subdue a smile. He could sense the reaction his speech was getting. Nonetheless, he kept a straight face. “We will not stop at simply killing the Darks. We will mutilate them, twist them beyond recognition, and do to them what they have done to us and show them that not a soul in the world is capable of getting away with such violence and hatred. When you fight the Darks, you will not simply shoot them and watch them fall to the ground. You will wound them, play with them, rip their arms and legs off and laugh while watching their disembodied corpses wiggle and squirm to death while drowning in a puddle of their own blood. When they are cornered and they kneel in front of you and beg you for mercy, smile warmly at them before smashing their heads in. I want all Darks, the soldiers, women, children, infants, smashed and bloodied across the pavement, nailed to the street signs, impaled upon the lampposts. I want anybody who walks those streets to know what the consequences are for crossing the Commune and the First Legionnaire. You are no longer a simple army. You are now a divine legion. You must protect this society and purge the world of the Darks’ abominate existence. And in order to cleanse that level of evil certain measures must be taken. They have murdered your brothers, threatened and in many cases destroyed and ruined your families, they’ve raped and slaughtered your neighbors, and it’s time that they know that, as long as we have our lives, the First Legionnaire will not tolerate their ignorance, arrogance, and their crusade of violence will be put down at all costs. That cost is their blood, their entrails strewn across the blood soaked streets of Praemon.”

  “And yes, my soldiers, you will not be assaulting Styne. Up until this very moment you have been under the impression that Styne was the place that you would be attacking. Intelligence has been received stating that the Dark stronghold of Praemon has put down its guard. It seems that in their ignorance they felt we wouldn’t find out. But it’s the chance that we need to shatter the Darks and put an immediate stop to their violence. The International Army is prepping for an attack against Styne. The attacks will happen simultaneously, making the Darks unable to regroup and refortify. Through their arrogance the Darks have ruined themselves. Beginning tomorrow, the First Legionnaire will be readying itself for a massacre in Praemon. They will not know we are coming. They will not so much as sense our arrival. And when we are finished only a handful of Darks will be left alive and they too will be hunted, captured, and shredded for the crimes they’ve committed against the Commune and its people. And then, when the city of Praemon is nothing but smoldering cinders we’ll find the treasonous bastard Luke Semprys, gut him, and hoist him by his feet in the streets of Styne as a reminder of what must be done to quell such powerful evil.”

  “Once we take Praemon there will be no place for the Darks to fortify. It is the last real fortress they possess and, upon our conquering it, the Darks will be fragmented and it will be a simple matter of tracking down and killing the survivors. The Darks made an egregious and fatal mistake with refortifying Styne. That penalty for that mistake is their death. Once we take Praemon the Darks will have nothing but a few ragtag colonies that pepper the badlands and forests across the globe. Taking Praemon will be our victory.”

  “So soldiers of the First Legionnaire, my brothers, we have only a month before Praemon will fall: only a month before you get your chance to avenge your fallen comrades and restore peace to the world order. With the death of the Darks comes a new era of peace and happiness and you, the First Legionnaire, will have once again brought that about. I am putting the finishing touches on the attack and am assured of nothing but absolute success. Your commanders have been issued their orders concerning your training and organization and you will begin drills and classes on those things first thing tomorrow. Fate is on our side, and for now and the rest of our lives we should remember today as the beginning of the end of the Darks. Because in a month they’ll be no more than a chapter heading in a history book and a bad memory. The Darks will perish. Praemon is where they will die.”

  After issuing those final words, Frenz peered into the camera with impassioned eyes until the broadcast light went off.

  Sure he had said a few things here and there during his speech that weren’t true or maybe exaggerated a few scattered instances, but these lies were perpetuating the march of truth, and Frenz felt no remorse.

  Of course, the assault on Styne had been postponed to the next month, something that the Darks would have been unable to foresee. The International Army would stand front and center and there would be, of course, Legionnaires thrown into the mix to give the appearance of effort. When the initial assault would happen, the IA and the Legionnaires in the assault group would no doubt take a pounding. With the Darks’ battlecruiser armadas refortifying the area and a massive troop surge, the Commune’s forces wouldn’t get much further than the outer walls.

  But that didn’t bother Frenz. It made him smile, actually, because the Darks thought that they were succeeding. With the destruction they were wrecking at Styne and the apparent safety of Praemon, Alighieri must think that they’re sitting quite pretty. And whenever Frenz needed a little boost he simply sat in on the First Legionnaire’s new training regime.

  Daily workouts were being mixed in with hypno-therapy, while their lectures were drenched in anti-Dark sentiments. The movies they were given to watch, the magazines and books they were given to read, all came together in a single, well-orchestrated effort to spread a potent spirit of hatred.

  At first it started small, just as the effects of the operation were beginning to take effect. After little more than a month they were beginning to hate, to loathe. They talked about killing, they bragged about killing, and eventually all they could think about was killing. And, just before the conclusion of the new training, Frenz brought out some Dark prisoners and lined them up. Charged with multiple murders of members of both the IA and the First Legionnaire, the twelve men were line up on stage, chained and wearing only a thin pair of pants.

  The soldiers wanted them dead, wanted them executed. But Frenz wouldn’t have that. This part was the most important part of the training.

  Walking up in front of the prisoners, standing in front of a stadium full of Legionnaires (also being broadcast to the remaining troops involved with the invasion of Praemon), Frenz bounced one of his cutlasses in his hands, basking in the moment.

  The men looked weak. They shivered, they were hunched, pathetic, but every one of them displayed what they must have thought was disdain towards Frenz; Trying to be brave. Not for long.

  The Legionnaires yelled for Frenz to kill them and it was hard to not listen. But until this point all the Legionnaires had really experience with their newfound hatred for the Darks was films, lectures, and talking amongst one another. They thought about how great it would be to kill a Dark. Frenz wanted them to feel how good it was.

  He picked the different classes of soldiers, the strongest looking he could find, and called them to the stage. The soldiers in the audience were smart. They knew what Frenz had called them up there for. The chosen soldiers lined up, one per prisoner, and Frenz explained the process, saying that
they would kill the prisoners in any way they saw fit. The crowd became deafening.

  The first execution was slower, more clumsy, as the soldier who performed it was unsure of himself.

  But that first execution was all it took to put the others into a frenzy.

  Their screams agonized, ragged, the Dark prisoners, tethered to their posts, were slaughtered. Not one of the soldiers doing the killing performed a one hit execution. It was bloody, messy, drawn out and at the sight of the pieces of the Dark prisoners lying scattered about in pools of their own blood and the raucous applause that flooded the stadium, Frenz knew he had done his job. The joy of the slaughter had spread like a virus. Killing was no longer just a part of the job. Now it felt good, like a drug. And, like any potent drug, they were all addicted. While they sat there, cheering for the blood drenched executioners, Frenz sorted through their thoughts. Though it was clear that the Darks were merely there for their killing pleasure, in the backs of their minds there was still one man who drove them to fear. But that didn’t matter. Luke wasn’t a Dark anymore.

 

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