Kodom hovered just out of reach. The mechanical marvel of the noble battle suit was damaged, but more than functional against whatever was left of the Elysian forces. “I'll be back for your scalp soon, little man.”
He moved to his Gun Brute, pulling the offending weapon from its chest, tossing it aside to clatter to the ground.
“Mara. Mara. Listen.”
Mara was quivering, trying to find a place in the Crucible where the fire burned the brightest. In that part was the refuge from pain. Loss had no place there. It fueled her spirit enough to answer. “Why?”
“I can heal. I can keep going, but it means nothing if more of my children die. That's what they forgot. The Exos lived for themselves because they forgot the mission. They forgot the future. Save Orin. He is the will. You are the Way.”
Marco lowered his head. She was there. He could feel her presence. His beautiful daughter. His wife had come, too. They were waiting, hovering over him to help him up. Make this last journey, together. He was ready.
The Lion's Spine hissed. It pulled the pincers from his neck, ripping out its legs from either side of his spine. It crept from his armor, clacking along the floor to position itself near the nape of Mara's neck. In a flash of psychic transference, the deal was laid out for inspection. The Mother Queen, who'd struck it so long ago, was there, her psychic apparition ready to bargain for all their futures. It whispered to her when the white orb tore itself free from Marco's face to devour Mara's eye. She tried to scream, rage into the Crucible to stave off the pain. There was nothing but agony. The symbiote positioned itself in place after eating its tribute. Mara could see her, the insectoid royal who'd brokered a deal during the Lost Missions of Marco's youth. Her murmured promises were angelic despite her terrible visage. There, in the middle of whispers and death, Mara found her deal and accepted.
Pain surged into her broken body. The fires of creation inside the Crucible lit the forge that was the Way. A thousand voices echoed in her head as agony fueled spasms tore through a body that was formerly ignoring every request, defying every command. Pincers found the back of her skull, piercing her flesh, her spine, and her soul to connect her to a world inside the Crucible few had ever touched. There, outside herself, was the spirit of her friend. The sister she'd lost to treachery. She held Mara's gaze, willing her to withstand the fires reforming her body lest they consume her completely.
A fist struck the ground, pushing against the once ornate foyer, it willed the rest of its body to rise. First a knee, then a foot. The lioness rose from the broken slate flooring, serving as her death bed into a new life. Flares of brilliant energy were everywhere visible through a connection in the Crucible she hadn't thought possible. Is this why he covered his eye? Is this what he saw all the time? Can I be the lion he was?
“It is a lightning rod to the magic you call the Crucible and a well of souls to those it has joined with before. You will be reborn within a remarkable fury, able to wield forces your body alone would not be capable of. We call them Lion Spines, which I feel is fitting since your men call you the Lioness. Go forth and roar.”
Lancers stacked against the back of two Hoplites using their energy shields. They sliced along the street toward the Noble, spraying a tornado of flechettes from its gauntlet. The stack slithered until they gained a foothold against another building with a crumpled side, giving the Devil Hunter's position to strike at Kodom from multiple angles.
The Gun Brute walking with the Exile charged one of the lancer lines. Blaster bolts winged off of its heavy armor, sending shots in all directions. It crashed into a stack of vehicles they were using as a barrier, knocking several of them into the dirt.
“That one shows promise,” Kodom said.
The Brute moved the vehicle, putting up its armored forearm to block the energy blade from Latisha's lance. She'd been the one to fight through the ghouls, pulling Volley's body from the wreckage, sending an assortment of the creatures unto the next life. It batted her weapon away, using its other hand to trip her off her feet. The torso split, coughing hungry tendrils onto the prone sergeant. Quick twitch muscle strands from the ultra-frame gave her the reactions necessary to push off its legs. She slid several meters before a tentacle caught her ankle. Placing repeated shots into it, the metallic restraint drew her in, until the rest of them had a hold. Its torso swallowed her, slamming shut like a sarcophagus taking its occupant to the tomb.
“Argh! Let me out!”
“Trade-1 detected. Welcome citizen! You have been selected to serve the glory of the Hunter's Moon. As a privileged citizen of the Hunter's Host, you will be given a new form with which to prove yourself in the grand designs of our Noble Masters. Dedicated service begets eternal rewards! Cyber interface detected. Replacing interface so we may upgrade you to the scientific standard of the Hunter's Host. Pain is privilege, and it is your privilege to serve.”
Outside, Beth landed on top of the Brute, slamming her plasma sword into the creases just below its neck. In a city block bathed in conflict, the only sounds she could focus on was that of Latisha screaming.
Thirty
“Warning! Warning! Attempted breach detected. Administering stimulant.”
“Where am I?”
“Higher armor functions unlocked. Uploading Adaptive Combat Interface.”
Latisha's vision passed into several different states of light. It stopped scrolling after everything was in various shades of grey.
“What's happening?”
The power core on the Hoplite spun up, making it easier to move.
“Disengaging locomotive governor.”
Her helmet was off, but somehow she was being fed information through a HUD from the armor. Scanning to one side, retinal tracking brought up Lance Sergeant D'Marco's interface. “Devil Seven this is Four Alpha.”
“Twin Hells, lancer! Are you still alive in there, Sergeant?”
“My neck is killing me and I feel like I'm going to throw up. I can still fight if I can get out of this thing, but my pistol and lance hit the dirt when this mech monkey grabbed me.” Latisha said.
“I'm sure it's pretty dark in there. Can you feel around for a release?” D'Marco asked.
“No, my vision switched. I can see everything clearly. No levers or anything I can see.”
D'Marco was silent for a moment. “I'm looking at your helmet. How in the Twin Hells...”
“Latisha, it’s Ares.”
“Hey! Can you get me out of this?”
Ares continued. “The Gun Brute that grabbed you has a secondary purpose, prepping people for ghoul conversion. It has some of the same sensors our ready pods have. You know, the lockers you store your armor in? If it detected your implant, it would've removed it and set you up with an actual cyberlink. It'll unlock the higher features of the armor, but you don't have long. The second the link went active, the armor would've connected and started causing trouble for the Brute. It will analyze the problem and attempt to cut it off you.”
“What happens if it removes my armor?” Latisha asked.
“Spider or Face guy, although I don't think you'll get a choice.” Ares said, somberly.
Latisha growled. “Great. And all my weapons are outside.” The armor flashed multiple screens across her field of vision. “Whoa.”
“What?”
“Ares, it says it has onboard weapons.”
“Okay, the armor should have reengaged the power core once you connected. The locomotive governor is now off. That means the armor will move at the speed of thought, so it's not limiting itself to keep you from getting vertigo or breaking your neck.” Ares paused, thinking of what his brother might say to embolden the young lioness. “Also, you are strong in the Crucible, which is why you're not unconscious or screaming from the implant. Use that.”
Latisha selected the assets she needed, starting with overclocking the power core to push more yield to the struts.
“Warning! Overclock of power battery can result in core melt down,”
Came a warning from the suit.
“Ares! Tell everyone I'm coming out!”
“Hit it again! Here it comes!” Beth yelled into the Battle-Net.
When Marco fell, the enemy Exos temporarily took the initiative from the battle. A Commando unit entered the fight, supporting the two remaining Gun Brutes. They were pressing the lancer line with superior numbers, cyborg enhanced reflexes, and the Brutes acting as a weapon's platform.
When the Brute had swallowed Latisha, Rob made it his squad's priority to get her back. They rushed the machine with Beth driving her plasma sword into a seam to burn the plates apart. With the commandos spraying blaster bolts like a fire hose, Marshal Brand was using the Crucible to deflect as much as he could. They were running out of time as Kodom, in his three meter tall combat armor, rushed to the aid of his heavy mechs.
“Whoa!” Beth cried.
A slender plasma blade punched through the seam where Beth was using hers like a pry bar. Slashing to one side, then another, the weapon ripped along the crease in the armored plate. Latisha kicked open the obstruction, jumping with the overclocked strength of the armor. The glowing plasma blade retracted into her gauntlet during her frantic dive toward the ground. She snagged her helmet, shoving it onto her head at the top of one roll, then tumbled again to pick up her weapons. The reborn lancer spun on her heel, bringing her lance up in the enemy's direction.
“Tisha!” Rob called into the net.
“I'm good! Fourth squad! Assemble on me and let's take the fight forward!”
D'Marco took cover behind a section of blown out building to snap out his battle board now that the shooters were back in the game. Highlighting targets for his lancers, he pushed directives out to his squad leaders to support the marshals he had left. If the lancers could draw enemy fire, perhaps Brand could get himself in a fistfight with a cyborg squad or maybe even, the Exo Noble.
Marco flashed his radio traffic through the Battle-Net. “Any lancer element north of Phase Line Autumn, this is Delta Hotel Seven. We are engaged with Exo Noble, heavy armor, and entrenched cyborg forces. Request immediate assistance, over.”
“Delta Hotel Seven this is Striker Actual. We are two hundred meters south, your POS moving along Route Burgundy. We will pass your engagement area and assault from the west. How copy?”
“I copy, approach from the south and assault west into L-Shaped formation, over.”
“We're on the roll. Striker out.”
D'Marco switched to an ALLCOM broadcast through the Battle-Net. “Be advised, Striker Company is coming up Route Burgundy in an L-Shaped ambush for these clowns. We just have to hold a little longer! Faith forward, Lancers!”
“Ever onward!”
Rounds from the cyborg weapons managed to slip past the Crucible-erected barrier manned by Marshal Brand. One impacted his leg armor, tossing him into the rubble. Beth was there immediately, straining against the onslaught of incoming fire threatening to overwhelm them. For all the tech supporting their cyber-enhanced bodies, the lancers were outperforming the Exos shot for shot. They seemed trigger happy, as if they hadn't fought a force like them in some time. The Exiles were dumping magazines worth of hyper kinetic rounds toward their enemy with few actual hits to show for it, while the lancers were shooting twice per target. Once to disable, an another to drop it for good. The only reason they were having to double tap was the cyborg armor was good.
“Heathens! Bow down and worship or be crushed!” the Shepherd proclaimed.
A rocket assisted leap pushed Kodom across the battlefield. His descent landed him in front of Lancer First Grade Tran and his CR-750 squad automatic weapon. Tran pushed his ammo bearer, LSG Lucas away as the monstrous armor struck the ground, smashing their high cycle death dealer into scrap. The noble took hold of Lucas, throwing the scrambling trooper back toward the commando line. He smacked into a wall before several cyborgs took hold of him.
“Surrender or I’ll grind you under my boot like the ants you...”
The plasma burst struck him in the back, exploding bright enough to blacken out the various night vision being used by the opposing forces. Kodom turned through his smoking hull to watch Mara Truveau, Lioness of the Athalon, walk through the blazing inferno of the ruined tanker truck. Ajax strode behind her in his molten form, dripping metal, smoke, and anger. He dragged the ruined corpse of the Gun Brute that tackled him. Pushing through the seething flames, he ripped past the wreckage of the truck, stepping into the street trailing billows of ash from his armor.
Mara's eyes were glowing white, making the sweltering waves running off her companion easily visible in the scene's conflicting shadows. Her connection to the Crucible projected her voice through the battlefield with the soul shaking force of a fire storm. “Kodom, Shepherd of the Hunter's Moon. I judge you guilty of slavery and mass murder. I sentence you to death.”
The Exile warlord taking a fighting stance was all the indication she needed. When she took her first step, the lancers were already in action. Tran caught a charge block from Sergeant Corvin, sticking it to the monster's leg. At her second step, four of the Hoplites lept from their positions. Her third step was the herald for Ajax taking flight. Fourth sent the remaining lancers dumping epic levels of blaster bolts into their targets across the battle space. Mara jumped, energizing her plasma sword into a void of blackened energy engulfed by a red corona. Blaster bolts and flechettes traced around her as time slowed to a crawl in the Crucible's embrace.
Mara struck the damaged Gun Brute, severing it from its broken chest plate all the way to the split in its legs. Ajax landed behind Kodom. In a rotation of furious movement, the horse man slapped his Pulse Hammer directly into the noble's back. The concussion split the plates on his battle armor, giving ample room to grip and rip. Ajax tore the armor in half.
Hoses vented an assortment of viscous fluids that sprayed across the melee. Green smoke shunted from the tear, intermingling with the fumes coursing from the horse warrior's mouth. He pulled the android out like shucking a crab from its shell. Dropping to kneel on his prisoner's back, Ajax smothered any idea of escape from gaining traction.
Mara took hold of the torn armor in the Crucible. She blasted the empty carapace through the wall of the building housing most of the cyborg commando counteroffensive. Changing her focus, she pulled on a shifting thread in the Way. Lucas came rocketing out into a safety net of unseen forces being worked by Beth. Corvin hit the detonator. The charge brick Tran had fixed to the armor's leg, ruptured its power core, cascading into a tremendous explosion which destabilized the building. It came crashing down, covering the plaza in smoking debris.
“Delta Hotel Seven this is Striker Actual. Did you just drop a building on the enemy force?”
“Roger, Striker. Threat neutralized. We received back up from the Crucible. Proceed to original objective, over.”
“Good copy. I read Devil Hunter's pulled out another miracle. Striker element are push to Objective Clothes Line. Striker out.”
Mara walked to Brand, her eyes still furiously white in the harsh light of fire filtered through ash. “LANCE report, Marshal.”
“We have six KIA with another four wounded. We're down to five of the original twelve Hoplites, but they took out the last of the Gun Brutes. I can see the enemy in the Crucible. Most are dead. Those that aren't won't be digging themselves out anytime soon. What I don't understand is...” Brand's voice caught in his throat as he hovered between sorrow and joy. “We saw you fall.”
“Another story for another time,” Mara said. A lancer approached to hand over her gear. She replaced her helmet, banishing the glow from her eyes. She gestured to Ajax, who was still kneeling on the ruined Shepherd.
“You're giving me the choice?” he asked.
Mara nodded.
“Ares?”
A beam shot from the horse warrior, projecting Ares into the square. His form flickered like an erratic ghost, most likely a filtering effect from the smoking ruin. “Shepherd, as Marshals T
emplar, it was, it is our duty to protect the innocent. Years ago, your mentor victimized us as prisoners of war. Our brother killed him in front of the very people he tortured. My only regret, is we can do this once.”
Ajax powered the Pulse Hammer. He brought it down onto the android's head, crushing its skull and internals alike. The feet twitched once, the result of nerve endings being given final signals after such a gruesome end. All three Marshals stepped to the corpse with their plasma swords lit. One by one they touched it, waiting until their section caught fire.
Mara reached for Beth's shoulder. The girl was staring off into space; her face covered by ash, had clean spots where her tears were trailing down her face. “Beth, I want you to take fourth squad and secure Marshal Sorrin's body.”
She was shaking her head. “I can't.”
“Marshal Bethayell, daughter of the Athalon and a friend to the Lion. I need you to secure our fallen so we may continue our mission to push to Objective Clothes Line. Can you do that, Marshal?”
Something caught the girl's attention, drawing up the corners of her mouth ever so slightly. She shrugged off the tears, walking into the plaza with her squad.
“What did she see?” D'Marco asked.
“A lion's farewell,” Mara answered.
“Wait. What?”
Brand clapped him on his armor. “It's a marshal thing. Do we have enough to push on our own?”
D'Marco shrugged. “We're down to two Hoplite supported lancer squads with a few of marshals. While that evens the odds a bit, we need a resupply. We're close on ammo, almost dry on water, and we have all these wounded and dead to scoop.”
Mara nodded. “Brand, Ajax, and I will take the two squads to the objective. Once Lasher takes on Anaxis, he'll be attacked by a hive's worth of troops. We'll keep him clear while being able to provide a QRF when and if it's needed.”
The Sentinel: A Military Sci-Fi Series (Hunter's Moon Book 3) Page 37
