Prophet and the Blood March (Prophet of ConFree)

by Marshall S. Thomas

"Ah!"

  "Who was that?"

  "Eight is gone."

  "Don't worry about it – keep firing!"

  "They’re going to over-run us!"

  "Don't worry about it. Just kill as many of them as you can."

  "One, Eight. I'm back. They blew me away. I just picked up my weapon."

  "Well, use it, quit chatting."

  "Two is hit and gone."

  "He'll be back. Fire, fire, fire!"

  I realized I was listening to a Legion unit that was using the attack holo weapons system. They weren't actually on-site, but moving around in holo chambers on some Fleetcom ship overhead, and their vac-active holos were firing real weapons downside that were killing the enemy but the Legion holo warriors could not be killed or wounded. The worst that could happen to them was their image would be vaporized, and they would have to wait a few moments for the vac-active image to re-form, then they would pick up their weapons downside and resume killing D's. Many of our major Legion units were now equipped with this system. It was almost miraculous.

  "Scanning random Legion battlenets." The freq had changed again.

  "They're right over there." Whoever he was, he seemed calm.

  "I've got 'em on the tacmap." Voice Two had a strange accent.

  "There must be two squads there," Voice One said.

  "I can see that."

  'They're going to hit the triage."

  "Sure looks like it."

  "And there's only us."

  "That one, I'm aware of. Triage Tac Five, Bravo Recon, we spot two squads of Demons coming right at you. Prep for an attack." Demons! Closing in on an emergency casualty treatment center.

  "Received, Bravo. Thanks!"

  "Good!" Voice One said.

  "No," Voice Two replied. "Not good enough."

  "There's only the two of us," Voice One replied cautiously.

  "We attack. Now. Two Startroopers, twenty Demons. Odds are even! We've got to stop them from getting to that triage unit."

  "Yes. Yes, you're right. Of course. Let's go!"

  Startroopers! They were UMC soldiers! So the United Mocain Coalition was with us in this elemental struggle. I was stunned. The UMC had been our enemies. And now they were fighting by our side! Against the common threat to humanity. I wondered if Nan the Man was with their fighting forces. I was pretty sure he was.

  "Scanning random Fleetcom battlenets."

  "Those are Demon saucers. Andraste Sixteen, they're yours. Select targets and attack."

  "Andraste Sixteen attacking. Targets zeroed. All units activate autodog and engage."

  "Getting dizzy."

  "Yes. Yes. Oh wow."

  "Two saucers hit and falling."

  "All right, they’re bugging out. Keep engaged, guys."

  "Oh, that's lovely. What a kick."

  "Scanning random Fleetcom battlenets."

  "Spawn, Atom's Road. We have a new flight of Dark Silver Birds rising from covert starport three-three, see the zero. That starport is evidently active again. We are calling in another strike to close it down. Meantime, you've got twelve Silver Birds heading for your AO."

  "Andraste Nine, Spawn, see the zero and intercept and destroy those Silver Birds. They may be planning to strike at Zero Alpha One. Don't let that happen!"

  "Scanning random Legion battlenets."

  "…heavy casualties and we can't hold on much longer. Darks are pounding us with tacstars. Oh no!" It was a female voice. I could hear the tacstars screeching in the background. "Repeat this is the Biogen First Expeditionary Scouts, Recon Four, need help now."

  "Recon Four, this is the AC Second Imperial Rangers. We're coming for you right now, let's go guys, move it! Hang tight, Recon."

  "Recon Four, this is the Tenth Legion, Black March, we'll relieve you, comin' atcha, hang on, we're almost there, see the zero, gang, break off, let's go!"

  I was thrilled to hear that. A Biogen unit was in trouble, and both Assidic Confederation Rangers and Legion troopers were dropping their current missions to divert to the Biogens to rescue them. Blood for blood. Not even an instant's hesitation. Who could ask for more? I touched Bees' cross. Dead, I was dead. But that didn't matter. I was going to die for Delta. And that was good.

  Chapter 18

  An Eternity of Dreams

  Advancing into Industrial Zone Seven was kind of like marching into Hell. The Bright's massive missile strikes had decimated everything. When the barrage at last ceased the entire zone was burning brightly, illuminating the cavern roof in an evil crimson glow. From time to time, some secondaries would go off as the Dark's vast stores of ammo heated up and exploded.

  We joined a great Bright army, scouring the wreckage for survivors. We didn't have to wait long. Once the barrage ceased, the Darks emerged from their holes. And there were a whole lot of them. A shower of Manlink tacstars shot into our ranks and left us crawling in the rubble. Damn it! I peeked out at the chaos.

  "Delta alert," Dolly reported. "Magma has penetrated IZ Seven, see the zero. The western wall is collapsing from the pressure." Great! Just what we need! The entire cavern was shaking, the rock beneath me rumbling. I could see the lava from an eyemote, a golden stream pouring out and forming a glowing river that would flow wherever gravity allowed it. It was not too close to us but we’d better factor that into our planning.

  Hold in place, Glory. We will counterfire with another barrage. The Bright missiles shot overhead as the Dark missiles continued to fall and erupt. Blinding, deafening chaos. I closed my eyes and gritted my teeth.

  Glory, advance with auto lightning. Oh no! The Bright knights were already marching past us, firing auto lightning.

  "Delta, advance," Scout ordered. I got to my feet, shouldered my Battlestorm, and started moving forward, firing. There was so much noise I thought I was going to go deaf, even though Honey auto-protected my ears from damage. The Dark tacstars were still falling and erupting all around us, pressure waves rocking me almost off my feet, little supersonic slivers of shrapnel pinging off my armor.

  Glory, keep firing. They’re in the open now, go after them. In the open, great. So were we!

  "Delta, alert! Two is down, Scout is down, see the zero." It was Dolly, the squad tacmod. "Medic required immediately. Nine, report to the zero." My veins filled with ice-cold adrenalin. I immediately found the zero on my tacmap. D2, it read. I turned and ran to the site. Scout! Oh no!

  I found Scout and Bees inside a smoking cloud that was twinkling with burning flecks of ash. Scout was sprawled on the edge of a tacstar crater, his armor riddled with white-hot burn marks and hundreds of tiny holes. Both legs were gone, sliced off above the knees, and blood was cascading out of the smoking stumps. Bees had evidently just arrived. She was chest to chest with Scout, choking and shrieking in frustration. She was trying to get a cyro injection into the input slot on Scout's armor, but her hands were shaking so badly she could not insert the device.

  "I’ll do that," I said, taking it from her hands and slipping it into the slot and triggering it.

  "Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh my God!" she called out, frantic. "MEDIC MEDIC MEDIC, NOW please please please God have mercy!"

  I could see Bees shaking right through her armor. Bees was a medic of course, a damned good one, but Scout was her husband and the shock appeared to be overwhelming her. Breakblade Breakblade Brights Brights Brights please help! she telepathed. Now she was frantically stuffing medgel packs and sealant up into Scout's gaping wounds and I was helping her, ripping more medgel packs and sealant out of my own medpak because Bees did not have enough. The blood was just like a river, a scarlet river, shooting right out of Scout's awful wounds. We had to stop the bleeding!

  "Scout, Scout, are you alive? Please please please answer me!" Bees' shaking hands hesitated over Scout's faceplate. I reached out and triggered it open. My own hands were shaking as well. And suddenly I was on Galinta, poised over the smoking corpses of Ice and Saka, their armor torn to shreds, and I looked into their helmets and both we
re dead dead dead – bloody shattered skulls, cold dead eyes staring into infinity. All hope gone. The future empty – dead. Not again. Please God, please Deadman. Not again!

  "Scout, Prophet. Report! Are you conscious?" I demanded. His head was intact, no blood, face icy pale, eyes cloudy, partially open.

  "Oh my darling, please answer me," Bees pleaded. "I love you so much! Please!" Bees was gazing into his face, her armored fingers resting gently on his helmet. Her hands were soaked in his blood.

  "How is he?" the Prof asked. He was right there and the rest of the squad was also there, the mission abandoned. Ice put her arms around Bees. A couple of Bright knights appeared and knelt by Scout.

  "Saka…" Scout's eyelids flickered. "Tell Saka…"

  "He's alive!" I shouted. Bees whimpered in relief and squeezed Scout tighter.

  "Saka…in charge."

  "It's all right, Scout, he knows it," the Prof said.

  "My balls. How are…"

  "Your balls are fine, Scout," Ice said. "Now stay conscious, the Brights are going to fix you up."

  "Oh my darling I love you so much! Dear God I thank you, I thank you, save him save him please please please dear God."

  A minor wound, one of the Brights telepathed, running his hands over Scout's bloody stumps. Bleeding has stopped. Please do not worry. He is in the hands of God now. We will evac him for treatment. The Bright pulled a little silvery cylinder from a pouch and it transformed itself into an airglide stretcher. They gently laid Scout on the stretcher and headed for the rear as Scout floated after them on the stretcher.

  In the hands of God, I thought. So are we all.

  Δ

  In here, the Bright officer telepathed. The Prof, Ice and I followed him into a largely intact building that the B's were using as a command post. We walked past several Brights who were working on a holo map of the vicinity. We headed into the basement.

  We wish to interrogate these captives but their minds are very confusing to us. Can you use your vocal language with them to debrief them? The Bright officer was escorting us down the staircase.

  Yes, can do, Ice replied. It was dark down there, no power. Ice and the Prof lit up the prisoners with the spots on their E's. We all still had our E's in addition to the Bright Battlestorms. My torch no longer worked. I didn't know if the lightning rifle had a spot or not; nobody had briefed us on that.

  There were three of them, humans, Stellar Commune troopers, clearly terrified, icy pale and trembling, arms bound behind them. They were filthy, caked in mud, on their knees, surrounded by stacks of supplies. Our spots lit us up as well as them and when they realized our black armor was splattered with blood, they kind of cringed and pretended to be invisible. The Brights are not gentle with prisoners but the ConFree Legion was probably the ultimate horror for these brainwashed soldier-slaves.

  "Your unit?" the Prof asked quietly.

  One brave soul spoke up. "Forty Fourth Homelands Militia," he croaked.

  "Which one you want me to kill?" I asked the Prof.

  "No need for that yet, my dear Prophet. We talk first." He squatted before the one who had spoken up. Ice went down on one knee before another trooper, and pressed the barrel of her Battlestorm against his forehead. She raised her visor and looked into his eyes.

  "I'm going to cut off your balls," she said quietly.

  "Calm down, Ice," the Prof said patiently. "These ones didn’t kill your squadie. Keep your hands off them."

  "I don't care," Ice replied dreamily. "When you're through with them, I'm going to kill them. Slowly." I squatted before the third soldier, my Battlestorm pointed right at his chest.

  "All right, Militia," Prof said. "Here are the ground rules. Listen up. We ask questions. You answer. The first lie, you die. Instantly. Then we go on to someone with, hopefully, a higher IQ. If you cease resistance by responding truthfully, you will be classified as a PW and transferred to Legion custody as soon as that can be done. Understand?" Prof was the good guy, get it? In these parts, good was a relative term. I smiled as I roughly attached the field brainscan around the head of the first soldier, the one who had spoken.

  "The mission of the Forty Fourth. Speak," Prof said.

  "Our mission was to block access to IZ Seven by countering Bright forces advancing from Sector Nine." He spoke in a low, tired voice. No Deception Indicated, the brainscan read in green.

  "And how were you to do that – against the Brights?"

  "We were auxiliaries to back up Dark and Demon forces. They didn't even tell us the names of their units. There were a whole lot of them. They told us to use tacstars. We just went to where they ordered us and got shot all to hell."

  No Deception Indicated, the scan read.

  "Good," the Prof said. "Good." He made a gesture and the trooper's field cuffs fell away. The trooper cautiously moved his hands around to the front.

  Glory, alert. The lava break is growing in size and the flow may soon block our advance. All units advance double time. Hqs close down and get on the move. The building seemed to be vibrating all around me. It was just one damned thing after another, wasn't it?

  "Dox," the Prof said calmly. I pulled a dox cup out of my ratpack, activated it, and handed it to the prisoner. He stared at it in fascination as if he did not quite believe it.

  "Drink," the Prof said. I had seldom seen the Prof this morose. He was normally a lot more cheerful, and talkative, but I guess he had his reasons. We all did.

  The prisoner savored the dox in his mouth like a sommelier sampling a fine wine, then sucked the steaming brew in greedily, trembling.

  "Why is it so important to block access to IZ Seven?"

  "Major combat units are on their way to the uppers via the vertical access industrial lifts located in IZ Seven," the prisoner said, over his steaming dox. "We were told there's a big fight underway on Level Two. CrimCon, the Assidic horde, the UMC jackals and the biogens are all involved and it was vital that we hold and protect the vertical lifts as long as poss so Level Two can be reinforced."

  No Deception Indicated.

  Ice telepathed this news immediately to our Bright escort who took off quickly to inform Breakblade.

  The Prof gestured again. The remaining two prisoners found their field cuffs were no longer restraining them.

  "Dox," the Prof said again. I handed out two more dox. The other two drank greedily, faces twitching, fingers trembling. One of them started to cry, silently, the tears cutting little rivulets through the caked-on grime on his cheeks. He was just a kid.

  The Prof and Ice and I sat there on the gritty floor, silent and exhausted, watching those enemy troopers drinking dox. I felt like crying myself but I didn't. I was too damned tired to cry.

  "Dox," Ice said throatily. She appeared to be in a daze. I gave her one and took one myself and gave the last one to the Prof. We drank in silence. The dox swirled around in my mouth and hazy images surfaced in my mind. Honeyhair Honeyhair Honeyhair, an easy smile, emerald eyes, golden brown hair floating lightly, tickling my face as she leaned in closer for a kiss. Oh my God, will I ever see her again? Bees, losing it entirely as she lay there chest to chest with Scout, hysterical, trying and failing to insert the cyro into Scout's inset slot with shaking hands as Scout's blood shot out of both legs in impossible scarlet fountains. And Breakblade, touching my shoulders with a sword in that awful field of bloody corpses. Be thou a knight, he said, in the name of God, of the Father, of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Arise, Sir Knight…Go forth and defend the faith and protect the innocent and fight the evil.

  "All right, boys and girls," the Prof said, wearily. "It's time to get back to work. Ice, tell the Brights to send somebody down here to take charge of these prisoners."

  Fight the evil, I thought. All right. The damned building was vibrating again. Time to go.

  Δ

  "Lift Eighteen is right ahead," Saka said. By that time we were crawling through the glowing wreckage of Industrial Zone Seven like worms and everything arou
nd us was burning, a holocaust of destruction. Burning ash choked the air and the lava was following us relentlessly, as if urging us to advance on the foe. Missiles and counter-missiles shrieked close overhead and impacted all around us. Raise your head just a little and supersonic specks of steel would impact all over your helmet.

  "I can't see a damned thing," I said, squinting through my faceplate scope, which was set to max. "Even the eyemotes are blind." I could barely hear myself with all the artillery and xmax bursting all around me.

  "Stay low, stay low, the Brights may have hit it but the Darks and D's are still swarming. Auto lightning, please."

  I fired lightning, adding to the deafening din of battle. I sprayed the target area, blindly. Honey lit up the targets and they were swarming all right. Hundreds of Darks and Demons and Stellar Commune slave soldiers were desperately crawling and going nowhere, seeking nonexistent shelter as our tacstars dropped right into their midst and sheets of lightning erupted like the wrath of a vengeful god. The smoke parted briefly and Lift Eighteen slowly came into view. It was a gigantic rectangular structure that stretched cavern floor to cavern ceiling and it appeared to be invulnerable, something that would last forever, that would defy the ages.

  As I got a better view I saw it was burning like a torch, ripped to shreds by unimaginable forces, massive cables twisted and torn like wet noodles, jagged pieces of the elevator floor dangling crazily. Then the smoke obscured it again.

  Morning Star, Glory. Information alert. Lift Eighteen is disabled and out of action. Glory, attack! Forward! Finish them off! Brights started charging past me. Damn it! Don't they ever get enough of this crap? I stayed where I was, waiting orders from Saka. Lightning lanced down all around me, deafening and blinding me temporarily. The Darks were still out there, still fighting.

  "Delta, stay low and keep alert," Saka ordered. "The B's don't need our help; let them mop up but keep an eye on the left flank, looks like it's open."

  I took a look to my left and could only see an endless fire ripping through the white-hot metal skeletons of what had once been a warehouse complex. The blackened cavern roof was flickering orange and red and burning black clouds of oily smoke were billowing everywhere.