Epic: Dawn of Destiny

by Lee Stephen

  The aliens scrambled—some into Confinement and some into the hallway. They trained their plasma rifles on the necrilid as Dostoevsky rose from the console.

  “Engage!”

  Becan, Travis, and the soldiers dashed from their cell into the room. Gunfire shattered the air. The fight for Confinement was on.

  Atop the guard tower, Fox and Jayden rained sniper fire. Jayden picked off individual Bakma on the airstrip, while Fox focused on the canrassis and their riders. Six riders and four canrassis had fallen to him thus far.

  An explosion of white erupted against Fox’s trigger hand and he howled. His gun flipped from his grasp and flew off the tower’s edge. He crumbled to the floor.

  Jayden spun around to face him. “Hey man, you all right?”

  Fox clenched his teeth and rose to his knees. He clutched his right hand against his stomach.

  Jayden drew to his side. “Let me see it.”

  Fox trembled as he allowed his hand to be viewed. As soon as Jayden saw it, he flinched backward and twisted his mouth. Fox’s right thumb and index finger were blown off. The rest of his hand was a blackened char of blood and bone.

  Jayden was on the comm immediately. “Medic!”

  Clarke’s voice crackled through. “What’s wrong, Timmons?”

  “Fox is down!”

  “Can you move him?”

  Jayden paused. “Yes sir, I can move him!”

  Clarke was quick to answer. “I’m sending Remington to assist! Bring him to the ground level!”

  “Yes sir,” Jayden answered. “C’mon Fox, we’re gonna get you downstairs.”

  Fox again placed his hand on his stomach and trembled to his feet. Jayden balanced him against his body, and they shuffled toward the stairwell.

  David was en route to the infirmary’s entrance when he bumped into Boris. The Russian tech was on his way back inside. He spoke before David could open his mouth. “Kostya is dead.” David gaped. “He was killed in the explosion on other side of the medical bay. It was the first place to get hit.”

  Beyond the infirmary, gun and plasma fire flooded the air. The ground vibrated.

  David breathed heavily. “Well let’s make sure nobody else dies.”

  Boris agreed.

  “I’m going out front,” David said. “I think there are enough extra hands here to help now. You keep doing what you’re doing.”

  “Right.”

  “You be careful back here,” David said, shaking Boris’s hand.

  Before Boris could respond, a third voice interjected.

  “Boris! What are you doing here, boy?”

  David and Boris looked back to see Max limping toward them in full combat armor. David’s handgun was firm in his grasp. “Didn’t you get the memo? Techs are all supposed to die this month.”

  Boris offered a weak smile. “Bad news for me.”

  David stepped to Max’s side. “Kostya didn’t make it.”

  “Then we’ll see him in hell,” Max said as he readied his sidearm.

  Scott was ready for Jayden and Fox when they arrived on the ground. “What happened?” Scott asked.

  “Look at his hand.”

  Scott glanced at Fox’s hand and recoiled. “Come on,” he said as he slid his arm around Fox’s shoulder. “Let’s get him to Varvara.”

  The necrilid screamed as its plasma-riddled body fell into Confinement. Bakma entrails lay splattered around it.

  The fight raged in every direction. It wasn’t even close combat. It was no-space combat. Every time Becan dropped a Bakma, another was there to challenge him from behind. If not for his knack for fighting, he’d have been massacred.

  Confinement was overwhelmed.

  When Scott and Jayden returned to Clarke’s side, the airstrip battle was in full force. Plasma bolts seared past them as explosions rocked the sky.

  “Fox is with Varvara!” Scott said. “He’s going to be okay!”

  Clarke flung a grenade toward a cluster of Bakma and ducked back as it detonated. “Good!”

  Scott drew down as a plasma bolt ricocheted off the tower’s corner. Everywhere he looked, plasma fired chased him. His body was covered in cuts and scorch marks, and he couldn’t remember where any of them had come from.

  Clarke screamed.

  Scott spun around to see the captain collapse to the ground. A hole was torn through the hip of his armor. “Captain!”

  Clarke’s teeth grinded. “I’m bloody all right!”

  Before Scott could respond, Clarke reached up and grabbed him by the collar. Scott was jerked to the ground. Behind him, a plasma bolt shattered the concrete where he had just stood.

  Scott scrambled to his feet as Clarke pulled himself to cover. Jayden fell back to match them.

  “Where is Varvara?” Clarke said as he tore off his helmet and pressed a hand to his hip.

  Scott thrust himself back behind the barricade. His eyes darted between everything around him. Jayden’s sniper fire. Clarke’s hip. The hole in the concrete. Everything was happening too fast.

  “Over there, sir!” Jayden answered. Varvara was still positioned behind the tower, where Fox lay in her care.

  “Get her over here!” Clarke said.

  Scott snapped into focus and adjusted his comm. “Varvara! We need you behind the barricade!”

  “But what about Fox!” she answered.

  Clarke slammed his comm to his lips. “Fox will bloody live, drag yourself over here!”

  David and Max reached the infirmary’s entrance. EDEN soldiers were clustered around, as several dozen Bakma held the open area just beyond them. Dead and wounded were strewn in all directions. Assault rifles rattled the air.

  Max groaned as he sunk to his knees and lifted his handgun. His finger assaulted the trigger.

  The battle for the infirmary had begun.

  Baranov unloaded his assault rifle toward the airstrip. He had lost count of the Bakma he dropped long ago, though he knew it was well over thirty. An occasional plasma bolt streaked past him, though he remained protected behind the large chunk of debris. A bolt had caught the edge of his hip earlier, but the wound was easily ignored.

  He was about to release another burst when his eyes caught something on the battlefield. It was Galina. She was far ahead of him, in front of the hangars, where she struggled to drag a wounded operative to cover. As soon as he saw her, a plasma bolt hit her shoulder. She toppled to the ground.

  Baranov stood up. “Galya!” A second bolt clipped her side, and she tumbled again. As she cried out on the ground, Baranov’s eyes narrowed. “Forgive me, Sveta.”

  He switched his assault rifle to one hand and charged toward the airstrip. As soon as he was open, a wave of plasma tracked him. He stumbled as a bolt caught his thigh, though he maintained his balance. He swung his assault rifle forward and held down the trigger. Two Bakma fell.

  Galina struggled to stand, then collapsed from her lack of strength.

  “Galya, I am coming!”

  Baranov plowed ahead until he reached her. He lowered his free arm to scoop her up, and pressed her body against his. Galina mumbled incoherently. He scanned for the nearest cover—a charred Vindicator that sat, unused, alongside the main hangar. He fired his assault rifle behind him as he charged toward the fighter.

  Suddenly he felt the small of his back burst open as a spray of blood splattered against the side of his neck. He stumbled, but his legs moved on. A second plasma bolt opened his thigh, followed by a third against his shoulder. His teeth clattered together as he crumbled to his knees. The Vindicator was right in front of him. His knees pressed forward as his internal organs ruptured. When the final plasma bolt struck the center of his back, he lurched forward in one last surge.

  Safety. They were behind the fighter. Galina was sheltered in his arms, and he toppled onto her. His gaze sunk to her as he coughed a spat of blood. His eyes glossed over, he lowered his head, and he breathed his final breath.

  The base was a war storm. Bakma pressed
against the hangar and the surrounding structures. Mounted riders ripped holes through EDEN’s defenses, as the blood-crazed canrassis tore apart everyone in their paths.

  Chaos covered the ground. The hangar was destroyed. The infirmary was aflame. The main building was on the verge of invasion.

  Novosibirsk was dying.

  Clarke’s team struggled against the tidal wave of Bakma forces. Plasma burned their nostrils, as the bloody cries of death tortured their ears.

  Though his clips ran low, Scott launched volleys from behind the barricade. Jayden abandoned the futility of his sniper rifle and claimed a more versatile E-35. Clarke fell under the care of Varvara, whose armor and skin were stained with blood.

  Everything shook. Everything flashed. Everything screamed.

  Then, the crisp static of Novosibirsk‘s loudspeakers cut through the chaos. Someone was on the channel.

  Becan focused on the metal wall mount.

  Doctors and nurses looked up from their patients.

  Clarke’s team panned their gazes to the massive speaker towers.

  The voice they heard was clear and firm.

  “Attention all Novosibirsk operatives. This is General Ignatius van Thoor.”

  Becan’s attention snapped back to the fight as a Bakma warrior swung a fist at his face. Becan ducked to the floor and bashed a kick into the alien’s chest.

  “Today, the enemy comes to our doorstep. They feast in our halls.”

  David growled as a burst of plasma whizzed by his face. He reloaded his assault rifle as Max returned fire.

  “They dine on our blood.”

  On the airstrip, the army of Bakma plowed toward the barricades. Scott slammed a new clip into his assault rifle, and he flung his last grenade into the fray.

  “For years, you have prepared for a day such as this. You have prepared for a day when they bring their battle to us.”

  “We’re not gonna hold them!” David said. As he raced back to find Max, his eyes froze on the silhouettes in the distance.

  Their shadowed horns gleamed in the darkness. Their crimson triangles shone with anger.

  “That day has finally come.”

  Scott was about to raise from the barricade to fire, when Jayden clapped his hand onto his shoulder. Scott stopped and followed Jayden’s rearward gaze.

  Amassed in their wicked glory, a legion of Nightmen thundered onto the field.

  The hair on the back of Scott’s neck tingled.

  “Fear is for the foolish.”

  Dostoevsky’s scowl twisted as he snapped a Bakma’s neck.

  “Mercy is for the weak.”

  The Nightmen charged the strip. The Bakma forces hesitated.

  “We will stand as death. We will fight as victors.”

  Scott regripped his assault rifle and steadied himself.

  “And today, we will show the world…”

  “Engage!” Clarke said. “Engage with the offensive!”

  “…that The Machine has teeth.”

  Scott rose from the barricade, and his assault rifle unleashed fire onto the airstrip. Three Bakma fell before he rushed back to cover.

  Around the hangar, the dark knights of the Nightman army charged into the Bakma stronghold. The Bakma advance ground to a halt as the Nightmen stormed through their midst.

  In Confinement, Dostoevsky came to life. The Bakma continued to press in, but the close-range combat of the Nightman and his defenders matched their surges with renewed energy.

  Down the halls of the Research Center, beyond the doors of Confinement, the shouts of Nightman warriors emerged from the plasma fire.

  “They are coming!” Dostoevsky said as he crushed a Bakma’s face with the butt of his rifle. “We will have victory soon!”

  Scott’s trigger finger paused as he stared at the battlefield. Nightmen surrounded the hangar area. Their vicious guns took to the Bakma like missiles to flies. They were outnumbered by the aliens five to one. But they refused to acknowledge it.

  All because of him. All because of the god of Novosibirsk. All because of Thoor.

  What monster had the general created?

  “Remington! Timmons!”

  Scott fell back as Clarke called his name.

  “Remington,” Clarke said, “we have our orders.” As soon as Jayden had joined them, he continued. “Novosibirsk Command want us to free the airstrip’s rear turret towers.”

  Turret towers? Scott looked at the airstrip, where the towers came into view. They loomed in the distance…behind the fleet of Noboats. His attention returned to Clarke.

  “If we can activate Novosibirsk‘s turret defense system,” Clarke said, “we can rain hell on them.” He glanced at his wound and moaned, then his eyes sought Scott. “I cannot do this. And the Fourteenth is scattered in every direction.” He hesitated. “I don’t have it in me to ask you…”

  There was no hesitation from Scott. There was no doubt. “I can do it, sir.”

  “You realize that the Bakma stand between us and the towers. The canrassis, the Noboats…everything. Are you absolutely sure?”

  He felt it. Exactly what he’d felt in Chicago, when Grammar told him about the failed strike on the Carrier. Exactly what he’d felt when he earned the Golden Lion. “Yes, sir.”

  Varvara looked at Scott, and Clarke nodded his head. “Show me why you deserve it, Remington.”

  Scott rose to his feet and scanned the battlefield. Clarke was right. The turrets were behind everything. This wasn’t a task that a worn out old van would complete.

  Scott thought for a moment. A worn out old van. His eyes flashed across the airstrip until he found them. The most beautiful things he had ever seen. Three Grizzlies. Their nose-mounted chain guns blazed as they plowed through the fray.

  “Jayden,” Scott said, “get ready to ride.” His gaze darted to Clarke. “Sir, can you patch me through to one of those Grizzlies?”

  The captain nodded. “I can.”

  “What’s going on?” Jayden asked as he knelt beside Scott.

  “You’re about to see what you missed back in Chicago.”

  “You’re set,” Clarke motioned to Scott. “They’re on your frequency.”

  Scott cupped his helmet mic. “This is Scott Remington of the Fourteenth! A comrade and I need to be picked up immediately on the southwest corner of the airstrip!”

  A voice crackled through a second later. “Negative, Fourteenth, we are not in position to help you. There’s another Grizzly much closer to you, we’ll direct him there instead.”

  Scott nodded. “That’ll work, thank you!” As the channel closed, Scott beckoned Jayden. “Come on,” he said as he motioned to the corner of the strip. Jayden rose to follow.

  “Wait!”

  Scott turned. The shout came from Varvara. Her gaze was settled on Jayden.

  “Be okay…” she said to him.

  Jayden’s eyes stayed on her for a moment, before his lips curved into a grin. “Yes, ma’am.”

  For a moment, Scott’s mouth dropped in half-shocked wonder.

  Jayden turned around and flashed him a smile. “What?”

  Scott laughed as Jayden strode past him. “Nothing, Tex. Lead the way.”

  Outside Confinement, the tat-tat of assault rifles grew closer. More Bakma fell. As victory was imminent, the final handful of aliens threw down their weapons, dropped to the floor, and raised their hands over their heads. Bloodstained Nightmen charged into Confinement from the hallway and trained their guns on the intruders.

  The Research Center was secure.

  The Grizzly awaited Scott and Jayden at the corner. Scorch marks charred its hull, and its forward chain gun smelled of cinders. The top hatch swung open, and a giant of a man emerged. Harbinger.

  “Son of a gun!” William said.

  “Will!” Scott grinned. “You ready to make some fireworks, big man?”

  William bellowed a laugh as Scott and Jayden climbed to the hatch. “Hell yes, we are, friend!” William ducked down in
the Grizzly as Scott and Jayden slid behind him. Plasma slammed against the apc’s hull. The Grizzly shuddered.

  The entire Eighth was inside. Their faces glistened in the cabin’s red glow. Jayden dropped behind Scott as the hatch slammed shut.

  “Here’s the plan, guys,” Scott said. “We’re taking one of the turret towers!”

  “The ones on the other end of the strip?” asked William.

  “Those.”

  Derrick Cole stared at Scott. “They’re surrounded by Noboats. At least two deep on every side.”

  Scott didn’t respond. He shifted his eyes to Derrick, and after a moment of pause, they both broke into smiles.

  William thrust his fists into the air. “Battering ram!”

  A cheer bellowed from the Eighth, and the Grizzly pulled away from the corner.

  The battle at the infirmary began to sway in Novosibirsk‘s favor. For the first time, human soldiers outnumbered the Bakma. Max stood and signaled his hand. “Move! Move in on ‘em!”

  The operatives charged from their barricades, a wave of bullets before them.

  The two forces collided, and a maelstrom of combat erupted. David swung the butt of his assault rifle against a Bakma’s face. Bullets ricocheted at his feet. He unloaded a flurry of bullets. It was a free-for-all.

  The Grizzly’s Russian driver announced to Scott, “We are ready to go! The Noboats are ahead!” A two-deep row of Noboats stood between the Grizzly and the nearest turret tower. A throng of Bakma fired at the apc.

  Scott knelt in the cabin. “Once we break through the Noboats, Jay and I are going to leave the Grizzly and take the tower! Cover us, then follow us! No one stays behind!” The Eighth erupted with a yes sir! “Let’s do it!” Scott commanded.

  The engine roared in mechanical fury as the Grizzly’s giant wheels churned forward. William snagged a support rail. “Battering ram! It only works if you yell battering ram!” The men cheered. Scott and Jayden held on.