by Scott Moon
No more rounds came close.
Kevin looked around and saw silhouettes of Void Trolls marching over the horizon toward either 2nd or 3rd Platoon. He was in a low spot as the world of battle descended on him. What he had to do and want he wanted to do with all his heart and soul were two different things.
“Fire Team One and Delta Squad, I’m coming in,” he said.
“Belay that, K. C.,” Davis ordered. “Delta Squad shift forward and get on line facing 018 degrees. Everything in this battle is shifting. Prepare for to engage Void Trolls and unknown infantry of similar size. That move you are seeing at 090 degrees looks like a feint.”
Kevin couldn’t make sense of the chaos. Performance Armor Specialists cut across fields of fire in search of an unknown objective. They reminded Kevin of the Cyclops without the ability to fly or use linked force fields to leave total destruction in their wake.
Farther away and on higher ground, the column of Void Trolls pivoted on a hinge in their line and swung down on ZIC 3rd Platoon, causing him to worry about Ruby McGuire while also feeling guilty relief.
DU mega tanks moved by column toward another battle, or were fleeing the field, or something else. SPC Hellfires harassed the column, dodging ground to air missiles and flak cannons. There was much he couldn’t see and all that he observed came in bits and pieces through the smoke. His radio went scratchy, stopped, and came back full of static.
“A mega tank just went nuclear.” The voice sounded like it was on another planet. “There goes the neighborhood.”
“Hit the deck!” Davis ordered.
Kevin complied but saw that the second, black-eyed Siren did nothing but watch him.
Terrain and distance spared Kevin’s part of the battlefield from the rolling shock wave.
The second Siren approached, ignoring the orders of Eigon. Her dark armor shifted with her movements. It was as though she had been born to fight. He thought of artists and sword saints and alien heroes. Despite the randomness of the word association, he understood his impression of the Siren was accurate — more accurate than it should be.
He had dreamed of her once, long ago when he was a child and thought the nightmares would kill him. Repressed images of his youth threatened to undo him.
“You must fight Cronin and Rog while I reclaim what is mine!” Eigon said.
The second Siren ignored her and offered Kevin a hand, pulling him to his feet. “I am Tion.”
“Private Kevin Connelly, SMC 343rd Marauders, Zulu Infantry Company, 1st Platoon, Delta Squad,” Kevin said.
“A very long name,” Tion said. “I must fight the Siren-nix lord and his soldier called Cronin. Do not interfere with Eigon. She will become The One Siren above the Chrysalis. She will be the Forever Siren. To anger her will be to anger Siris and the Dream-rider.”
“She’s not taking the twins. Not this time,” Kevin said, wishing he knew where they were or what the odd creature before him was talking about.
Tion smiled. “This will be interesting.” She pushed Kevin backward, saving him from a flurry of small arms fire. “Follow us. Bring your friends if you can.”
Kevin checked his HUD. “Fire Team One, I am moving to investigate a Siren pair beyond Hill 202. Catch up if you can.”
Fighting fatigue, excitement, and the terror of his environment, he climbed the gentle hill, then descended into a cratered zone of no-man’s-land. Two Nix giants stopped as Eigon and Tion blocked their path.
Cronin and Rog had two prisoners between them.
41
Boss
CRONIN no longer carried Ace, but required him to walk between him and Rog, his battle lord, as they crossed the human battlefield. The young man did as he was told, in part because he was tired, wounded, sick, and hungry. His hair — grown long now — hung down the sides of his face and he rarely looked up from his feet or reacted to explosions.
Rog made Cronin nervous. Never had a battle lord appeared to him. He did not understand what he had done to displease the great warrior.
A head taller than Cronin and armed with a legendary sword and a blood axe, the battle lord should strike terror into all mortal beings. Cronin’s heart tightened with fear, his muscles tense, his hand aching to grab a weapon, and his feet wanted to flee like a coward.
Ace and Amanda, however, showed no fear.
“We have been walking forever,” Amanda complained.
“Such is war,” Cronin said. The humans understood nothing. Their conflicts lasted years. Many times, Cronin wondered how they could endure such bloodletting. The conflict on Brookhaven seemed must seem eternal to short-lived creatures. As he understood human reckoning of time, only a few months had passed since he stole the twins from Eigon.
Thoughts of the Siren sword saint disturbed Cronin even with Rog holding his sword and axe.
He shoved Ace forward.
The boy tumbled, bouncing back to his feet as curse words left his mouth. He glared but said nothing.
“Why did you do that, Enkidu?” Amanda asked.
“Do not call me that,” Cronin said. “Do not speak in the presence of my battle lord.”
Rog snorted, tightening his grip on his weapons.
“How does pushing my brother help? Your people have abandoned you, you understand? How long can you hide us with armies swarming the planet? Your battle lord is here to arrest you. Can’t you see that?” she said.
“You know less than you believe you do,” Cronin said. Arguing with the human twins — a strange thing, twins, he thought — meant nothing.
Ace walked back to Cronin and Amanda’s position near the edge of a crater, then puffed up to imitate Cronin. “Look how big I am. Ho, ho, ho… I can push people down.”
Rog took a step closer, snorting through his nose as he narrowed his eyes on Ace.
True to form, Ace presented the middle finger of his left hand, then his right.
Neither of the Nix responded to the insult.
Rog, perplexed, looked to Cronin. “Are the fingers dangerous?”
Many times, the boy had taunted him. Cronin stayed his hand. Once he embraced violence, Rog would do what he had come to do. He thought the human twin-girl was wise. Rog came for more than two human children of the Dream-rider. He radiated displeasure.
Ace, already bracing for the backhanded strike, opened one eye to look at him.
Amanda held her breath and bit her lip.
Cronin, gazing around, feeling weary, spoke. “We must pass more through this battle.”
Airships swooped low, shooting at something on the next hill.
Rog and Cronin watched the sky.
Eigon and another Siren stepped out of the smoke.
“Fuck,” Ace said. “The only person I hate more than Cronin just showed up. Sister, we have the worst luck.”
Cronin did not enjoy Ace, even though he was male, something closer to a Human-nix than the female. He did not like the way Ace talked and hated the way the boy remained loyal to his sister. Observing true loyalty forced him to question his disobedience. His heart was confused. Now he wanted to betray both the Siren and his Siren-nix battle lord.
“The twins will stay with me,” Cronin said. “Until I reach my destination.”
Eigon, Tion, and Rog turned to look at him.
“There will be no Chrysalis for me,” Cronin said, unsure of why he made the suicidal declaration.
Eigon looked over her shoulder at something Cronin could not see. She was legendary among the Children of Siris, destined to be The One above the Chrysalis, the Forever Siren.
Cronin shuddered. When she ascended, there would be dark times.
Ace and Amanda saw the newcomer before Cronin could realize what, or who, he was seeing. The twins ran toward the human soldier, ducking under the swinging blade of Rog.
“Kevin!” Amanda shouted.
Cronin had heard her speak the name many times. He hesitated.
Eigon and Rog did not.
The Siren-nix battle lord
chased the twins. Eigon blocked his path, but called for Tion, who came both slowly and quickly. She seemed to always be in the right place even before the right place was known.
Cronin watched in awe as Rog and Tion clashed.
Tion, Siren of the sword and battle glory, was taller and stronger than most of her kind, but much smaller than Rog or even Cronin. She moved like a blur of dark armor when she struck. Between attacks, she was as silent and still as deep water under a silver moon. Unlike most heroes of the sword, she fought with a single blade, using three of her hands at a time.
Dark hair on dark skin, calm eyes, and a body of lean muscles conditioned by years of practice, she reminded Cronin of Amanda. He frowned, not understanding the comparison. The female creatures were opposites in every way, yet the same.
Eigon stood between the twins and their brother, extending all of her arms to make a screen-web of her densely braided hair.
Cronin had never seen such a thing. In the culture of Siris, this was like being naked for battle — a declaration that the Siren would fight to the death and do anything to stop an attack of a loved one.
Except she was blocking the human twins from their guardian brother. Senseless and dangerous, the tactic was only used when fighting to be The One, or to draw a mate into the Chrysalis.
Maybe Eigon was destined to be the Forever Siren, but if others saw this desperate display, they would think her insane.
With no time to watch both events, Cronin needed to make a decision. Traveling with Ace and Amanda had been a mistake. His heart was confused. He needed to go home and petition for rejuvenation in the Chrysalis — perhaps ascend to some loftier status than what he was, maybe become the lowest of Sirens.
He was nothing compared to Rog and the Sirens.
Cursing his meekness, he moved forward. Was he not the one who had stolen the twins from Eigon? Who could have done such a thing?
Who would have dared defy the Siren that would be the Forever Siren?
Tion stepped back from the battle, seeming to sense not only Cronin’s mood but his intention. Her eyes said, “Go ahead, Cronin. Commit the last and greatest sin.”
“What are you doing?” Rog asked.
“I recovered the twins and will not allow their human brother or the Siren to have them,” he said.
Rog nodded. “That is good and correct.”
“Neither shall I give them to you, because you are no true friend of the rebellion. I see how you hold back against Tion. It is a game the two of you play, nothing more than an act, and I am not fooled. The twins will come with me.”
Rog charged like an avalanche, driving Cronin backward — through the place where the humans gathered and the Siren tried to separate them.
Human artillery blasted the scene in every direction. Far away, two mushroom clouds of nuclear weapons reached for the clouds. In the other direction, the sun lifted into the sky, oblivious to the death and destruction sweeping across the planet’s surface. The world of Brookhaven was two places at once: hell and paradise.
Cronin blocked the sword, then the axe as he retreated. The force of the blows vibrated through his hands and up his arms. He gasped for air and saw that Rog was showing no signs of tiring.
He understood pain in new ways as the fight continued. The Sirens and the humans were beyond his vision. He could neither see nor sense them.
Rog was everything. Rog was the entire universe sent to kill him.
Cronin counter attacked because not to counter attack was death. A blade cut his arm, then his leg, then came around and sliced open the right side of his face.
He kicked Rog, driving the legendary warrior backward. Springing on the opportunity, he tackled his adversary. Punching, kicking, grabbing, and cutting with weapons confused the rising storm of their conflict. He fought with all of his arms, even those not meant for fighting.
Striking Rog with a limb meant only for eating was an insult so rare and severe there was no word for it.
“You dare!” Rog shouted.
Cronin rolled away and recovered the sword he had dropped. Hesitating, he kicked away the famous blade of Rog — which was an insult dooming him to death even if he survived this fight.
Rog gripped the battle-axe with four hands, raised it high, and brought it down.
Cronin blocked with his sword, watching it shatter. The next blow would kill him.
Rog gloated for a moment, but during that brief time, the human brother of the twins rushed between them and fired his main weapon without rooting himself to the ground as was their way. Cronin watched the human soldier fly backward, tumbling across the ground like a broken toy, silver heat sinks whipping the air like mechanical intestines reflecting the morning sun and flashes of battle.
Tion appeared near the remains of Rog. She looked down.
“Rog was unworthy,” she said, then faced Cronin and Eigon. “He was not holding back. I toyed with him for mere amusement. It is I who played games. Perhaps I am unworthy as well.”
“Kill him,” Eigon screamed.
Tion ignored Eigon. “I do not love you or what you do, Cronin the Betrayer. But I crave battle and sense the host of Rog approaching to avenge him.”
“You conspire with them,” Cronin accused. “I saw how you held back against Rog.”
Tion smiled and fluttered her secondary gripping systems. Her ink black hair rippled with uncharacteristic laughter.
Cronin exhaled as a new reality froze his guts. All the Siren were crazy. Something had gone wrong with the last Chrysalis.
“Tion, you must obey!” Eigon shouted. “Help me find the twins!”
“No, Eigon. I must fight the Siren-nix who approach. After that, there are Void Trolls who also seek the twins.” She hesitated, facing Eigon but speaking to Cronin. “If you must take the twins, take them. None of it will save you or your Nix.” The way she named his kind without the proper prefix, the way she admitted that they were separate and free beings, seemed less an affirmation and more of a curse.
Cronin took a moment to think and hide his injuries from Tion and Eigon. “The Siren, the Nix, and the Void Trolls seek the human twins. Why is it that only their brother searches for them? Do the humans not see what they are?”
Tion drew her sword. “The humans seek a doctor, or have you not noticed?”
Cronin felt stupid. He knew only that he needed to keep the twins from the Siren oppressors.
“You will pay for this, Cronin!” Eigon shouted, then ran to fight beside Tion against the host of Nix coming too late to their battle lord’s aid.
A voice called to him from the smoke. “Cronin, help my brother. Help him and we will go with you.”
He walked to the unconscious form in human battle armor. “What do you call your brother?”
“His name is Kevin. He nearly killed himself helping you,” Amanda said.
“I refuse the debt,” Cronin said. “But I will help him to gain your compliance.” He carried Kevin until he found two human soldiers, one large and one small, and placed him at their feet.
“Holy shit, Chaf,” one human said.
Cronin returned to the twins and led them away from the expanding scene of violence.
42
Kroger
ARTHUR didn’t love the Hellfire attack ship as Eve did. She logged more hours in the simulator during transit to the Brookhaven system than any other pilot whether they were a rookie or veteran.
He felt out of sorts behind the controls and there were too many screens. Most of the information forced upon him by the computer wasn’t necessary. To make matters worse, combat controllers and officers were always chattering in his ear.
He wasn’t sure where training and on-the-job training diverged. The first two or three missions had been cruising over peaceful areas of Brookhaven, admiring the scenery. When he needed to relax and forget his search for the twins and all the problems with his new friends, Eve and Kroger, he imagined the first sunset he had seen on Brookhaven. Cutting across
the sky, flying as he never dreamed he would, was like being blessed by a god he had ignored from the day his parents died.
The beauty and peace of Brookhaven couldn’t last.
Something happened during the ground battles that changed everything. His contact with the instructors became less frequent and before any of them understood what was happening, his unit was making combat runs.
Eve loved the action and the attention whenever she returned from shooting up one of the discovered mega tanks. She had a fan club of pilots old and new that were a little bit afraid of her.
Kroger had been plucked from training to attend something secret, which everyone knew by now was inclusion in the Cyclops project. If any of the officers had asked, Kevin would have told them Kroger was the wrong choice. They were looking for someone like Eve but assumed a six-foot-five, tattooed pit fighter like Kroger was the warrior they were looking for.
Arthur remembered the look in his big friend’s eyes after their first combat simulation. He was a fighter and he understood violence enough to hate it. Giving him one of the ultra-destructive Cyclops units was a mistake and now he was AWOL.
Arthur completed his pre-flight checklist and gave his mechanic the thumbs up. Moments later, the Hellfire was slipping into the launch bay ready to deploy to the planet atmosphere. Despite the gentle nature of zero gravity floating into the void, aiming himself at Brookhaven was the most nerve-racking part of the experience. He concentrated on each task down to the smallest detail.
For one expansive moment, he realized he was just a boy from the neighborhood flying down to a planet halfway across the galaxy. Nothing he had ever seen or imagined was as glorious as the planet below.
“Are you there are there?” Eve asked, yawning.
“Blue Star to Death Angel, I read you five-by-five,” he said.
“Your call sign is weak,” she said.
“And yours scares the shit out of everyone. Give me a second while I review our mission parameters.” Arthur felt good, better than he had for a long time. He actually enjoyed the sound of Eve’s voice; which wasn’t always the case.
