The Deian War: Conquest

by Trehearn, Tom

  “My Grace-” he started to say.

  “Speak to no-one of what I have said, Commander” she spoke over him, her eyes both pleading and demanding in equal measure.

  Sabre found no words to respond and just chose to nod at her again. As she ran off, pursuing the distant Whitewolf, he realised that out of all the Apostles he had served under, she was the most perplexing. One paradox refused to leave his mind and try as he might to mull it over or let it slide from his notice, it remained there like a cancer.

  If Gaia truly was the Apostle that took on the aspect of nature from the Auranair, why then did she defy the fate of things? If she was supposed to understand the world around her, why could she not accept the way things were between people as well as the environment? These were questions he could temporarily put out of his mind. For now, there were greater concerns. The Lion’s roar could mean only one thing; Sabre was right about the enemy survivor.

  LUPUS SUNK HIS teeth into the neck of the second Devii bodyguard that he encountered. He took down the first with a brutality that he surprised himself by when they burst from the tree trunks around him. Before the shower of splinters and bark could even blur his field of vision, he had taken form by sheer response of instinct and clawed down the Phantom nearest to him. Now a second red corpse lay ruined near the first.

  Without looking, he counted no less than a dozen foes. As always it seemed, the odds were in his favour. Laying into him with their halberds, the nearest of them daring to engage in close combat whilst those further away unleashed volleys of flame at him, the devii hacked and shot at his form time and again. There was little effect, though and it became painfully obvious that they were distracting him from something else.

  A fierce, threatening growl of promised death behind him gave him the answer to that riddle; he hadn’t been the target, she was. Calla had joined him in the shadow of the mountains. He should have known that Sabre would tell her where he’d gone. Lupus wished the Commander hadn’t done that because the enemy’s trap had now been irrevocably sprung. Though Calla launched herself into attacking the enemy at his side, ripping apart a pair of devii before they could land a strike, the cunning of the Phantoms was revealed as a further two dozen burst out of the surrounding trees.

  Calla, get back! Lupus cried, watching as the devii levelled their halberds in preparation to loose a devastating salvo of flame at her.

  She looked up from her third kill in time to see a colossal, brown shape barrel into her. Lupus had knocked her aside and to the ground, using his own body as a shield against the deadly torrent of fire balls that were meant for her. She gazed up at him and her eyes reflected both her gratitude and her regret.

  I’m sorry, Lupus. I couldn’t let you fight alone…yet now I’m a burden to you. Please, let me fight. Let me help you. She told him, moving to get up and take her vengeance on the enemy.

  Lupus was visibly affected by the tirade of the Phantoms’ attack, but not through its violence; it was the orchestration that had him worried. Feeling Calla wrestle free from his protection, he leant over her back and forced her back down with his head. Stay down, he said, but he was too late.

  He should have seen it coming. He should have known that she was as stubborn as he was, that in the heat of battle she would sooner put herself in danger to be of some use than to take shelter and let him keep her safe. She yelped as an unusually precise spear of fire brushed her tail, searing off the tip. Though it wasn’t a grave wound, it was still an injury that stood as a testament of his failure to guard her in this deadly ambush.

  Will you never listen to me? He muttered, using his massive body to completely shield her smaller form. He began to steadily move her backwards until they were behind one of the larger trees that remained standing after the devii’s ambush. With one sweep of his claws, he changed that simple fact. The trunk came crashing down in front of them, granting a natural barricade against the enemy’s weapons. Fireballs thudded into the dank, soaked wood and the material refused to catch fire for now, but Lupus knew that would change quickly.

  Stay here, he told her. All around them, the Phantoms approached their newfound defence, a steady rate of fiery volleys eating up the thick tree trunk. Lupus was just thankful it hadn’t burst into flames yet, but he had to act fast if he wanted that luck to hold out. He looked down into her eyes and found himself in awe of how beautiful she was, even now in the midst of a fight that had seen her hurt. By now she had reverted to her human form, where there was no visible trace of her injury, but it was clear that her pain had translated into a mental weariness and physical agitation.

  For a moment he allowed himself to revert as well. He stroked her cheek gently with the back of his hand, a feat given his capacity for lethal strength and his present thirst for violence. Kissing her forehead, both in apology of his failure and in infinite affection, he began to change again. Before he did, he promised her softly, “I will come back for you. Don’t be afraid; nothing can hurt me for I have you and you are my shield eternal…”

  Now the Lion once again, he looked over the fallen tree at the enemy and found amongst them a creature that he had never seen before. The presence of death and torture exuded from its very existence and he actually wondered if his promise to Calla would hold true after all. Nevertheless, he gave her one last look. I will return, he assured her.

  With a deafening roar, he lifted his head to his surrounding foes and bellowed out his rage to warn them of his wrath before their imminent slaughter. Then, leaping over the massive trunk with ease, he charged into battle with his love for Calla burning like a sun in his heart.

  ***

  A HAIL OF pulsar fire sailed into the ranks of the devii as Lupus pounded the ground with his paws. With a sharp intake of breath through his nose, he picked up the scent of his legion command squad. Evidently Sabre had gathered the Guardians together, fearing the worst. He was glad for their support; though the devii were no threat to him, they were to Calla now that she was even more vulnerable. He could focus now on destroying the unknown Phantom archetype that waited for him in the centre of the fight, baiting him to come closer.

  The creature, whatever it could claim to be, salivated profusely from a pair of jaws so slack that Lupus wondered how it managed to articulate its wicked grin. Its body was hunched with a deformed appearance, yet its muscly legs and compact form held the promise of power and murderous ability. Its three eyes, pearl white without any other features, somehow seemed to stare at him in anticipation.

  In his peripheral vision Lupus noticed the last of the devii break their attention from him and Calla, turning their weapons instead against the Guardians even as they were cut down by the legionnaires. Desperate to kill something, the Phantoms seemed to last longer than they had a right to do so, intent to survive as long as it took to retaliate. The last of them, a trio of ochre-skinned devii, were crushed by a tangle of roots and a hail of bark as a nearby tree was manipulated into an explosion of deadly shrapnel.

  Gaia, Sabre, leave this one to me, Lupus told them as he closed with the final Phantom. They needed no further insistence, seeing for themselves that Calla was in more need of their help than he was. They secured the area as he rushed the enemy.

  The creature, still far away despite its original proximity to him, opened its mouth and spoke with what passed for its voice to Lupus. “Sssssttoppp” it ordered him. Holding its right hand up to reinforce its command, the seven bony fingers splayed out in authority, it finally took a step towards him.

  As it made the gesture, Lupus collided with an invisible wall of force and crashed to the ground. The barrier was undoubtedly telekinetic, that much his gut told him. Even as he was brought low by the Phantom’s shield, Lupus could only wonder why he hadn’t noticed its presence on the planet before now. With a power this strong, it should have registered somewhere along the campaign.

  In seconds, he rose back up on all fours unhurt and undaunted. It was not arrogance that lead him to be fearless, but
conviction and purpose. Fight with honour, whelp he mentally spat, a verbal growl providing the needed disdain.

  The Phantom laughed derisively at him. “Honour? What do you know of that, Apossstle?” It lolled its head to one side at such an angle it looked like it would fall off if it went any further. “You are imperviousss to our weapons…You cannot be slain, yet you demanddddd usssss to fight you, an immmposible enemy?” It chuckled again.

  My honour is in honest combat. I do not choose my strengths, nor am I to blame for them, but I do not wait until the end of a battle to reveal myself to my enemy.

  It clacked at him like a parent scolding an ignorant child. “You are foolish to think me a coward, Liiiion” it seemed to emphasise the first syllable of his name, as though accusing him of some crime. “Thissss ambushhhh was planned. If my agentsss had done their work properly, your slavesss would have been too late to interrrrvennnnne…and your precious wolf would be deaddd, and you witthhh her.”

  Lupus paced back and forth as the Phantom explained itself, his patience wearing thin with every word it dared to utter. He was incredulous to think the Phantoms could believe themselves capable of slaying Apostles. Their dark god and infernal master was indeed an equal to all twelve combined, but his armies were little more than irritant pawns to be controlled and exterminated.

  Nothing as pathetic as you could harm an Apostle, he replied. He was growing tired of the wall in front of him preventing his kill.

  It clacked at him again. It served only to make him more furious. “Mmmmm perrrhapss not all Apostlesss….but you….you’re easssssy to slayyyyy…” it professed. Its head swayed to the other side, its shiny grey skin apparently ready to decay at any moment yet simultaneously prepared to morph itself into something entirely different. Half of this Lupus knew from his instincts, the rest he could simply read from the creature’s presence as though it wanted him to know exactly what it was.

  Pathetic and stupid, then. How are you suddenly convinced you could wound me, an ‘impossible’ foe? He asked, helplessly curious about its claim. He saw Sabre and a handful of Guardians begin to move around them, ready to strike at any moment, but a growl from him stayed their hands. The Phantom either didn’t notice them or didn’t care. With its ambush ruined, it seemed to accept it was only a matter of time before he killed it.

  It shifted its blank gaze on him, trying to weigh him up and gauge his next move. Then it gave its answer. “Annny task can be imposssiibbbble until the solution is made accessssssible,” it licked it lips, “You jussssttt have to know what pieces of the gammme are requireddd to be…removed” it grinned, both jaws filled with ranks of pyramidal teeth and flicked its head to what was behind Lupus; the fallen tree trunk and beyond that, Calla.

  As it dawned on Lupus what the Phantoms’ full intentions had been all along, not just to kill Calla but to do it only as a means of getting to him, a rage exploded inside his core, a fury so intense it teetered on madness. With the pure strength of his will, his anger intensifying his own psychic potential, limited though it normally was, he shattered the barrier holding him back with a single, mountainous thought of murder.

  His reaction, though provoked by the creature, was beyond its expectation and it recoiled in a level of alarm that only made Lupus satisfied. Even monsters could be afraid, he laughed inwardly. As he closed the gap between them, the Phantom regained its focus and waved its arms at him, an invisible wave of energy striking at him with every airy gesture. Lupus waded through the attacks as though they were nothing more than water, his ire more than a match for the Phantom’s power.

  The creature’s eyes shrank in realisation of its imminent death. Lupus came three steps closer. It attacked again, but he took yet another stride forward through it. The salvoes weren’t painful; they were merely designed to blockade him, but they were having little effect.

  Though the Phantom was aware of his invulnerability, its instincts refused to believe that Lupus was unstoppable. However, that was his foe’s problem and it didn’t prevent him from tearing it apart limb by limb. Grey, arterial blood washed into the soil all around them and its death throes were long and painful to the ears of the legionnaires. It shrieked in bitter defeat, its head intact for only a second long enough to make the noise before it was crushed between the jaws of the Apostle it had attempted to assassinate.

  Standing victorious over the ruined body of the Phantom, Lupus revelled in its destruction. He was covered in its ichor, but he paid no heed to that. Content with his work, he turned to see his legionnaires approaching him cautiously, wary of the full extent of his temper and ire they had witnessed properly for the first time.

  Be not afraid, I am calm again…he assured them, though it took his reversion to human form to convince them of it. Gaia approached next, a perfectly healthy Calla next to her. Apostles healed quickly, even with grave wounds and there was no longer any sign that she had been as hurt as he feared. He was confident she had recovered long before he had finished off the Phantom, but he was nonetheless gladdened to witness that fact with his eyes and not his heart alone.

  “We are victorious…” he smiled, but a sudden tiredness was overwhelming him. He took a step forward and faltered. Another step would have brought him to his knees if it wasn’t for the lightning-quick reaction of Sabre who rushed to support him.

  Everyone, even Calla, was looking at him with mystified expressions. “My energy escapes me…” he breathed. Sabre was struggling to hold him up and the two Apostles came forward to take his place, carrying Lupus with his arms over their shoulders.

  “What is it, what’s happening?” Calla fretted. This was not like him, not at all. Were Sabre’s words earlier more true than he could have realised?

  His world now blurring with darkness, Lupus looked to his left at Calla. “I’m tired, Calla…so tired…” he managed to say before his eyes finally gave in and sleep claimed him.

  Chapter 2

  THE ECHOES OF weapons exchanging fire filled the streets in the capital city of Kraxus. Akurei, Commander of the 77th Fireblades legion, winced in annoyance. The sounds she heard now were the same as those that had filled her life for the last thirteen and a half months. Pulsar bursts. Gauss grenades. Screaming, both of the enemy and her men and women. The steady, devastating barrages delivered by squadrons of Warhounds as they sought to deny the enemy their claim on this world. She longed to hear a different pattern, anything that would break the stalemate they all found themselves in.

  Yet, for all that the war had engulfed Khasib, the capital of Kraxus, the sprawling fields of factories that made up half the city continued to operate at full capacity. The planet had been one of the key assets for the human colonisation forces in the early Gothican Empire’s expansion into the east and northern parts of the galaxy. Where before it had produced the vast quantities of weapons, vehicles and ammunition for the Empire’s armies, it had now been repurposed by the legions for their own equipment.

  Akurei couldn’t deny the truth of what that meant, however. Though the Guardians undoubtedly needed replenishment and they had forbidden the humans from taking part in the Deian War, the reality was that they had taken control of the human world for their own use. Even if that ultimately allowed them to protect the humans, there was still a part of her that said the legions’ purpose was too similar to the Phantoms’; they were using the Gothican world as a means to an end, noble as theirs was, which meant removing the humans from their homes to achieve it.

  Taking shelter in the second storey of a factory in the periphery complex, near the western edges of the megacity, she looked out the shattered bay windows and tried to ascertain the campaign’s latest status. In the distance she could see the interplay of deadly firepower between elements of her legion and the paradigm hordes of the enemy forces.

  Something caught her attention. “Hand me the sights” she said to the squad of legionnaires arrayed around her. To her left, Fabia passed them over.

  “What is it, Commander?”
Fabia asked her.

  Akurei wasn’t certain, which was why she needed the sights to begin with. She held them to her eyes, two tubes fixed together with a digital centre that would allow her to change the zoom and type of vision the sights provided her. “Something’s happening” she eventually said. The answer was so vague that Fabia wondered if her Commander had finally cracked.

  As Akurei panned her view and found what she was looking for, she bit her lip in consternation. Amidst the ruined outer edge of the western flank, the 77th had dug in firm, holding back the enemy for over a year now. She knew they could hold out for another year, perhaps forever if they kept their hold on the factories, but something had changed today. Maybe the enemy had received reinforcements. Was it possible that the Ninth Apostle had finally failed to blockade their fleets?

  In any case, the staggered retreat of the Guardians that was evidently under way without any clear explanation, or even communication to her, meant something she had refused to believe possible; the Phantoms had broken through the stalemate and the factories that would increase their war efforts a thousand-fold were suddenly under real threat. Right now, she didn’t need enlightenment over the miraculous event. She wanted a response.

  As Commander of the Fireblades, what she really wanted to do was find a way to rewind time. The tide of battle was changing before her eyes in an instant and she could scarcely believe what she was now seeing; instead of the denial of the Phantoms’ advance, she saw the deaths of her legion.

  She wished she knew how to stop those Warhounds from exploding into fireballs of death, to safeguard her troops from the slaughter of the enemy. Yet, she had no tactics ready, no way to make those desires come true. Today was supposed to go the same way as all the others had done; defend the city, hold back the storm, rinse and repeat until the enemy stops coming.