by Lee Bond
They smiled at one another across the vast gulf of their nearly infinite experience.
“Find us Chezzik Elteren.”
23. A Little Bit of Everyone
Celestial Beachhead
There were few things left in the Universe that made Fenris feel small, limited, in awe.
The first time they’d encountered the luminous Lisa Laughlin had sent them all into a frightened fury that’d put an amused smile on the Kith’kineen’s beautiful visage. They'd sought to demolish her from the get-go.
They'd been as children.
Fenris still thought of the woman warmly, though he –like the other Harmony soldiers- had never and would never admit their feelings aloud, but love was a thing they all held, very tightly inside, for Lisa Laughlin had done the unthinkable.
She’d put their lives back on track, pulled them from the brink of being nothing more than over-powered tyrants seeking to bring the Unreal Universe into the light, no matter the method. She'd told them of Nickels, of his plans, and ... they'd adjusted, seeing the wisdom in patience.
When he’d witnessed the apotheosis of Sa Gurant, had been another such time. And, of course, hearing the voice of the godlike being that was their greatest enemy, Kith Antal.
A small part of him –and, after careful, cautious probing of the others, of them all- had responded resoundingly to the unbelievably powerful sounding voice as it boomed through the Arena.
Not only had that moment shocked him momentarily senseless and filled him to the brim with a brutal vision of just what it was they planned on doing, it’d galvanized them. The threat was real. Kith Antal and his own Harmony Army was real. They were coming. They would soon be in a war unlike any ever fought anywhere in the entire history of the Unreal Universe.
They were going to go head to head with the M’Zahdi Hesh.
When they finally got done dealing with all the bullshit and petty concerns of a local ombudsman and a machine mind with pretentions of grandeur, they were going to roll out from this hemmed in solar system and absolutely destroy the enemy.
And then … and then …
“It burns in the veil of darkness, rolling thunder, penned in by waves of invisible might.” Solgun hopped down from the perch he’d decided to build specifically for the purpose of sitting atop it so he might then utter something pithy before hopping down, just in the manner he’d done.
Done mostly to irritate Fenris, acting this way made him feel so much better about himself. Before becoming Solgun, before volunteering, he’d imagined himself a Poet Laureate for the people of Latelyspace, a formally recognized penner of words, whisperer of heartfelt emotion. But of course, that’d been snatched from him the moment he’d climbed into the conversion chamber, all thanks to a misplaced sense of loyalty that'd been transformed into something much, much wilder. Solgun wasn't too disappointed with his lot in life, because becoming a Harmony soldier had gifted him with grand visions like the one in front of him, a sight so profound that had a mortal poet seen it, madness would have him swinging from the high trees.
Lokken didn’t bother hiding the mirth bubbling up out of him as the look of preternatural disgust passed Fenris’ dour countenance. He flicked a hand through his long, ragged hair, then addressed the room. “That, right there, is one hell of a storm.”
Stride looked up from the workstation he’d settled in to. “Gravity wells equal to … well, the biggest black holes you could ever hope to avoid, but there’s more in there than that. I’m detecting what can only be described as extra-dimensional energies. Beyond that, there’s an awful lot of quantum substrate rips. Worst part, though? The whole thing has achieved cohesion.”
Fenris pointed direly at the screen. “What about the Shield Wall.”
Nalanata tugged at an ear. He’d rather be elsewhere, but Fenris had insisted they all come and witness the spectacle. Together.
He'd only agreed to come once Fenris had pointed out that sooner rather than later some of the finest from the Trinity Army would decide that the storm was of extreme military value and move to occupy the space.
But ... Nalanata was also conflicted. He wanted to be elsewhere. With Herrig’s threat hanging over all their heads, there was precious little they could do. The moment the enemy was engaged, the leader of the Commonwealth would learn of it instantly. From that moment forth, every machine, every avatar, ever 'LINK and every Screen would carry the hallmark of the HIM's attention.
And they would be hobbled.
Killing was so very much easier than coercion!
“Sensors can’t read through the disturbance.” Nalanata announced, shaking his head free of cobwebs. They were all getting … fuzzy.
No, that wasn’t the right word, but it’d have to do for the time being. They were close to the end of their candles, and they were stuck in the mud. “But the confluence of energies here suggests one simple thing.”
“Escape.” The word fell from Fenris’ lips and slammed into the floor with brutality. “Ute escaped. Using the Quantum Tunnel, a series of black hole engines, and an illicitly acquired Trinity Army spherical escape pod.”
“Hunting for eels in a black ocean is hard.” Solgun admitted with a wistful smile. Then, because he could see a new storm brewing in his brother’s eyes, “I've got the names of the fools who helped him, but they've got a black hole ship. Finding them is difficult, no matter I’ve got thousands of people on the hunt.”
Fenris cleared his throat, shut his eyes, and concentrated on Lisa’s shining blue face. It wouldn’t do to lose his temper in front of his brothers. They were all already stretched so thin. Trying to find a different front to undo Herrig, managing the shapeshifter, arranging for the deaths of Latelians who didn’t fit in to the new way of the world, working with ‘Father’ Vasily, working on the AI killer … it was almost too much. “And the brood?”
Lokken tilted a hand back and forth. “We get nowhere. The youngest, Shoonty, is an actual, literal idiot. All he can talk about is Shoontyball and how much fun he had with his Grandfather. The Two isn't much better, really. He's in lock down as well, but ... he's actively courting death. His Harmony practically wears a Reaper's Shroud, so trying to dig anything out will only net us a dead body. And the others?” Lokken shook his head bitterly. “Depends on how badly you want that Intel, I suppose. I’ve looked at their Harmony placement, and … their legions have already bonded. Retraining those legions accept new leaders will put roughly three million warriors back. Years. We can do it, but.”
Fenris hunted for something to hit. His eyes fell on Solgun’s stupid perch and before anyone could gauge what he was going to do, the Harmony soldier had his hands wrapped around the sturdy metal base and he was wrenching it free amidst torturous squeals. When it popped loose from its mooring, Fenris threw it through the main screens at the far end of the room. It collided with the heavy crystalline monitors, broke through with a loud crash, and disappeared. Sparks and smoke and large chunks of viewing crystal rained downwards.
Nalanata looked at their brother and nominal leader with a worried eye. “Feel better?”
“Not even by half.” Fenris growled. He pointed a commanding finger at Lokken. “You will fucking crucify this ... Shoonty moron. Make his pain a thing of legend. Make it especially difficult for the rest of that brood to hide. Ensure they feel it. And watch them.”
Lokken nodded somberly. This was it. This was why they were going to fail. Obviously, keeping Sidra on ice so the shapeshifter could do her job was important. Quite possibly one of the most important things they were doing to undermine Herrig, but this other thing … this killing of mostly innocent Goddies to teach the others a lesson? This was bad for business. “On it the moment we’re done here.”
Nalanata –still watching his older brother for another emotional outburst- brought something up that he’d found in the course of investigations. “Fenris, after … digging into the brood’s activities and liaising with Solgun,” here, Solgun tipped an invisible hat
, “We’ve discovered … Ute might not have left this solar system alone.”
“Are you kidding me right now?” Fenris demanded, accidentally slipping into a Garth-ism. He sensed low levels of wild amusement at the faux pas but he chose to gracefully ignore the sentiment. Now wasn’t the time to lose his temper. Again. “Who could he have gone with?”
“All signs seem to indicate that he received assistance from this man.” Nalanata went to throw the man’s face up on the big Screen, looked around sheepishly for a second, then simply flashed the data to everyone. “Tomas Kamagana.”
Everyone decided to give their older brother a bit of room to work out his personal issues. Each of the four Harmony soldiers gravitated their way towards one of the few functional windows that looked out into space, ears quirking every now and then to the sounds of Fenris, ripping his ship to pieces.
“So, Solgun, how goes driving our brother insane?” Lokken asked curiously, eyes wide as plates as he watched a gravity surge push at the energy-born meniscus keeping everything right where it was.
The scene was disjointing; everything outside moved and shifted as though they were looking at some tremendous underwater creature, but they were in space.
“Idle hands are proving not so idle.” Solgun admitted, whistling when a lambent burst of some color that had no name lurched from one side of their window to the other, so violently powerful that he swore he could feel it’s heat. “Our brother forgets that we were mortal, and that we deal with mortals now.”
“Pricking his thumbs every few minutes isn’t going to help him in any way, shape or form.” Stride replied bitterly. He flinched when a particularly loud and … voluminous crash reached their ears. “As is most evident by … ahem … what’s happening right now.”
“I for one,” Nalanata clapped hands on his brother’s shoulders, “think this is all for the best. He needs a good tear. We are warriors, brothers, don’t forget that. We were forged as weapons to be pointed and fired. We’re not suited to any of this backroom stuff.”
“Nickels is good at it.” Stride commented. “Almost too good.”
“The Engineer benefits from a lifetime of training that we did not technically receive.” Solgun admitted ruefully. “It’s as you say. We’re … we were … the biggest bad in the solar system. When we needed to wake up and do some damage, that was what we did. We’re kind of hard to stop. And, as he’s just a single man … ”
All three brothers snorted so hard they could’ve done themselves an injury.
Solgun spread his hands smoothly. “Fair enough. As we know he’s a single person trying to do the impossible, it is only natural that he deploy any number of sub rosa techniques. He did, after all, arrange a way to trick the M’Zahdi Hesh themselves. Good Christ, is he pulling up the floor now?”
Stride took a quick peek over his shoulder. Fenris was at the very furthest side of the large room now, and yes, he was indeed pulling up a heavy floor panel. “He’s been pissy. But we need to discuss the thing we didn’t have a chance to tell him before telling him the thing that might see his lovely asteroid ship completely dismantled around our ears.”
“How many ships?” Lokken asked, turning his eyes back to the spatial disturbance.
“Forty. Doesn’t sound like a lot, but ten of them are big. And odds are too high to estimate that more than half the soldiers lurking on the far edge of this thing are Heavy Elites.” Nalanata pursed his lips together as dark emotion rolled from his brothers.
None of them really liked the Heavy Elites. It was a natural, instinctive loathing.
Plus, it was damned obvious that they were Trinity’s response to what It’d perceived as an inevitable confrontation with God soldiers.
“They’re weird.” Solgun laughed at the paucity of his own words. “Like, very much so. What was It thinking?”
“I’ll tell you what It was thinking.” Fenris’ voice boomed through the cavernous hall. “It was thinking ‘These Latelians are going to be a problem, so I will create something their equal’. How many ships are there?”
“Forty.” Nalanata reiterated. “A good mix of medium and heavy cruisers. A few ultras. This is going to be a telling battle.”
“Get men here. Get them now.” Fenris couldn’t believe the luck they seemed to be having these days. Losing Ute was a bad blow; for all the strange new abilities gifted to him after being killed and resurrected, he’d been important. By now, the whole of the Army had heard the sorrowful tales of the eternal soldier, wandering lonely and alone down the path of history, watching on in suffering silence as his brothers and sisters fell to drugs and addiction.
At present, everyone knew he was more, he was different. He’d strode beside The Engineer, and as much as Fenris had tried to hammer that particular lunacy out of his children, it was as firmly rooted as Father Vasily and the even more aggravating Saint Candall situation.
Those were manageable things. Difficult, yes, but manageable. Ute was a hero. He could be forgiven for disappearing.
But Tomas Kamagana? That ancient man was one of the most important assets in Latelyspace. There was no one else in the entire volume of space who could even come close approaching that man’s genius. And he was gone, now. Out there. On the other side of the Shield Wall, either dead or free, when he should be inside, doing as he was commanded!
Solgun nodded at Fenris’ command and moved away so he could begin issuing orders from his prote. Ordinarily he’d use one of the consoles, but his elder brother had done quite the number on … everything.
Fenris pointed a finger at Nalanata. “Anything on Candall?”
“We’ve never thought to map Harmony, Fenris. It’s slow going.” Nalanata shrugged. He knew Fenris didn’t like the answer, but it was the only answer. “We need to prepare for this conflict, brother. Best estimate suggests forty percent of the forces on the other side are going to be Heavy and like it or not, they are the equal of our guys. Even the Foursies. Yes, they're Harmonized, and yes, they're themselves again at long last, but this is their first serious conflict in over a hundred years. There's no way of knowing how they'll actually do in battle. Not after so long. You need to talk to Herrig. Explain the situation. Point out that this is a do or die…”
“Don’t tell me my job, Nalanata. I know what needs to be done. Talk to your contacts at UMDT’s Weapon Division. Get the new gear issued. Stride. What’re you going to do?”
Stride jerked a thumb at the window behind him. “I was thinking I might get a little closer to this thing. Get some better readings. I’ve got some Phase V gravnetic shield generators I’ve been tinkering with. I think I might be able to handle the worst of it. If I can get close enough in, I might be able to chart the location of the exit point. Even if I can't do that, the readings I'll get’ll prove instrumental."
Fenris considered the idea. He jerked his head once. “Do it. All right, people, get moving. We’ve all got stuff to do and for the life of me, I need to find a way to explain to Herrig just what’s going on out here. There will be death this day.”
***
“Just because your ship is the biggest doesn’t mean a damn thing, Marker.” Captain Relict Handsi looked nervously all about him, feeling uncommonly surrounded by the darkness. It seemed to go on forever, and there was just no telling what was in the dark corners of this behemoth of a ship, not when that ship belonged to a Heavy Elite.
Marker dug at some animal flesh stuck between one of his incisors with a sharp metal pick. “I think that it does.” He replied simply enough. Damn shubin. Delicious if you could find it, better if it was cooked over an open flame, but if you walked away from it at the crucial moment, when you came back, you’d have to content yourself with eating dried leather.
Still, though. It was one hell of a meat product.
Prentiss, another regular Army person and not a Specter and thankfully not anywhere near close to a Heavy Elite, waved his hands this way and that at the darkness. “Can we do something about the lights
?”
“Nervous?” Marker asked, tucking the handmade metal toothpick calmly into the breast pocket of his tattered uniform. “About what might be out there?”
“No.” Prentiss replied defiantly.
At precisely the same time, Handsi replied, “Yes.”
Marker quirked an eyebrow at the nervous-looking Captain. Regular Army. He had himself two fine representatives of the worst thing Trinity had ever done in It’s life right here before him.
On the one, he had Handsi, who was about as by the book as you could get, from his pressed and tailored clothes all the way up to the ludicrously natty haircut crowning what was surely a pointed melon. He was all business, and when you were staring down the screens at him, he would most definitely look intimidating, but without a million-ton vessel armed with Hand of Glory missiles and everything else wrapped around him, he was a coward in fancy clothing.
On the other, Prentiss. Didn’t quite care so much about how he looked, plainly smart enough to see that forcing his men to follow regulation when Army probably didn’t have a regulation for this kind of bullshit, Prentiss was … the opposite of Handsi. Didn’t need his ship and it’s weapons or his soldiers around to feel tough because he was the brave coward. He’d spend his men’s lives like dribbling grains of sand into the wind, just to prove he wasn’t afraid.
“Iago!” Marker bellowed loudly, his richly accented voice –IndoRussian by way of EuroJapanese adoptive parents and filled with more than a little bit of weirdness thanks to The Cordon- echoed up and up and up through what he called the Pylon but everyone else on his team just called ‘The Fucking Hole’. “Lights!”
Huge industrial-style lights began popping on, one at a time.
“Apologies, gents.” Marker grinned toothily. “Used to running in the dark, don’t you know. Good old Midsummer Night is a big bitch, as Handsi tried to point out. All these lights on, we’d glow in the dark. Couldn’t have any of them Goddies seeing where we were.”
