The ridge finally opened, revealing shadowy, bleak terrain under a bruised sky. The scenery hadn’t deviated much from Avernai, but it was a little colder. There were lights in the distance, the unmistakable flickering of halos and craft beacons.
Alarms sounded. Demon army spotted.
Half our fleet was already off the ship; the other half scrambled to follow suit.
It was time.
Leid’s hand found my own, her cold, clammy fingers twining with mine, seeking warmth. She didn’t look at me, gaze lingering on the lights in the distance. “Be careful.”
I leaned down and kissed the top of her head, providing no other response.
She let me go and walked toward headquarters with her head down. So much about Leid had changed, even before she fell sick. Part of her damage was on me.
And I refused to let her die like that.
XX
TO THE BEAT OF THE WAR DRUM
Naberius Uhnem—;
THERE WAS LITTE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN DUSK AND DAWN in Lochai, even less in Lohr.
As the new day approached, the sky switched from black to navy blue, hazy pillars of light poking through pockets between hanging islands. There were no clouds to curtain the Azenou Fields, only lithic platforms of the Avernai rift. Debris of various sizes and shades hung in the air, suspended by altered gravity, shimmering as weak rays of daylight struck their surfaces.
Lilith watched our army assemble with her assigned Primers on deck.
I stood in the vacant hall near the control room, relaying a message on my port-Aeon.
The screen flashed and a chime verified the message was sent. I pocketed the device and headed on deck, standing alongside Lilith as aircraft carriers soared by, taking position at the Verdh Shelf.
The Archdemoness of Lochai seemed worried, even while surrounded by thousands of soldiers and artillery. Her concern was warranted, as two primers and fifty thousand men were still not a guaranteed win against the Ezekiel and their Jury.
She huddled into her white coat, its hood drawn as loose strands of black curls swept against her face. The cold air had turned her cheeks red, her coal-colored eyes relaying silent duress. She wanted to be here as much as me, but Lucifer’s charge was final, universal, and the idea of freedom from the angels and their Contest was too tempting. Freedom was worth the chance of death.
To her, at least.
“Anything?” I asked, breaking the silence. The primers stood sentry at our sides, though they were more like scenery than people. I’d heard no more than four words from them since boarding the command ship yesterday night.
“Glad you could finally join us, Naberius. Proximity radars show nothing yet,” said Lilith, uncertain. “We’re ahead of them, it seems.”
“Loosen up. Even I can tell you’re pissing your pants.”
She nudged me, and I smirked.
And then an incoming, urgent message beeped from our headsets. Lilith answered the call. It was from the patrol jets near the Verdh Shelf.
“We’ve picked up activity a hundred and fifty miles inside the passage.”
“Activity? Specify.”
“We can’t trace flight trajectory. If it’s the enemy, they’re cloaking. All we can sense are heat signals and Verdh’s gravity compression is making them erratic. On and off the charts every few minutes. We can’t pinpoint an exact location.”
“Heaven’s here,” announced Primer Tor, surprising everyone. It was like watching a statue suddenly come to life. He pointed in the direction of the shelf. “Order your troops to surround Verdh. Fire the moment they appear. Snuff them out before they reach open skies.”
Lilith was about to repeat that order, but a series of explosions erupted near the shelf. We spun, watching as objects poured from the narrow passage, right into our awaiting forces. They’d been a lot closer than our readings had gathered. That or they’d unloaded something with high heat signatures to keep us off their trail.
Clever, but then again that was always how the angels played.
They tore through the unsuspecting front line in a matter of seconds—at a glimpse there were a hundred, while more poured through Verdh behind them. Alarms sounded.
The battle had begun.
“Shields!” Lilith screamed into her headset as she and I sprinted across the deck toward the command station, the shields activating at our backs. It encased the ship in a glowing red sphere; not a moment too soon either, as two dozen angel jets broke away from the shelf assault and soared straight at us. A second after the shield rose, the jets whipped by unloading heavy rounds of pulse ammunition across the hull. Their target was the halo. Enough fire would break the shield, and if the halo’s charger was destroyed, the ship was as good as gone.
A cluster of our jets took chase, keeping the angels from getting another chance to shoot. Primer Tor and his partner stayed on deck, unflinching against the close-range chaos, rallying troops from the Trenhaza Ridge to aid in the fight.
From the command station, Lilith and I watched the battle in holo real-time. Verdh was the least guarded area of the Azenou Fields, as it was near impossible to navigate through the shelf and the less-likely route of an attack. The army near the Trenhaza Ridge began to thin as jets and carriers bled closer to the shelf.
And that was when Ezekiel emerged from the Ridge, like a fiery, golden sphere, surrounded by jets, carriers and transporters. They hovered around the Argentia command ship like rings on a planet. A pincer attack.
Our army was scattered and frantic, ripe for the picking.
And as Lilith broke, cursing and fumbling to order our troops back to the Ridge, I grinned.
Check-mate, Yahweh Telei.
***
Seyestin Trede—;
The sky was dark when we’d arrived. Now it was on fire.
Pursued by demon jets, my team barreled across the Azenou fields, shooting at hordes of ground troops and their war machinery. Smoke clouds and soaring debris made navigation near-impossible. I was forced to rely on radar-topography alone.
Our attack on the Obsidian Command ship was a failure, but that had been a last minute bonus. The ship was stationed so close to the shelf, the opportunity too sweet to ignore. Our prime objective was met: scatter the demon army. It was time to regroup.
“Commander, we’re heading your way,” I reported.
“Well done, General Trede. Fatalities?”
“Eighty so far. We lost fifteen at the shelf.” But those fallen jets had aided our cloak, scattering our heat signatures.
A cluster of demon crafts ripped through the smoke, opening fire. I rolled, evading, returning a spray of my own. Two plummeted in flames, the rest swerved and carried on, tapping out.
Ezekiel lit the sky with Argentia light, releasing transport carriers that descended the mouth of the ridge. From it poured angel ground soldiers, my sister leading the charge. The armies collided on the field below, immersed in pulsefire and bullet tailsparks. Death marred the horizon and terrain, raining fire and blood. The sight was overwhelming, crippling.
I thought I’d never see this again.
***
Qaira Eltruan—;
The chaos was arousing.
I stood on Ezekiel’s port with a group of wary soldiers, watching the war from the (relative) safety of the shield. The deck and everyone on it was phosphorescent gold, blindingly so. Reserves were called to arms in rapid succession, and away they went, trembling as the transporters carried them off to their portentous fate.
Things were beginning to fall apart. The angels had gained an edge with that pincer attack, but tactics weren’t enough against the enemy ranks and soon they seized the upper hand. The angel ground army was getting slaughtered, outnumbered five to one. Demons owned the sky, too, and I could barely see an Argentia craft anymore.
The group I stood with seemed to sense this as well, because they were looking more and more frightened by the minute. I gathered it wouldn’t be long before the enemy was close enough
to knock down our shield. Good thing I stayed behind.
“General Trede, gather as many jets as you can and prepare a full-out assault on the Obsidian Command ship,” ordered Yahweh. I’d been granted permission to listen in on the feed. “I want its shields down now.”
“Yes, Commander,” answered Seyestin, complacent despite the sheer impossibility of that charge. Loyal fool.
Zhevraine.
That was Leid, calling out on our Vel’Haru line. She didn’t give an order, only called to her guardian, but all of us knew what she wanted. Adrial and Zhev were listening to the feed, too. She pinged back, a nonverbal message that sent tingles down my spine, meant to let Leid know that she’d received her order loud and clear.
Well, at least there was some hope now. Zhevraine had a better chance of getting on that demon base ship than anyone else. And if she did, god help them.
A team of enemy jets tore through the last line of our meager defense, firing at our shield. We scattered, taking shelter behind pillars around the port. Ezekiel’s repellant shield held against the pulsar shockwaves, rippling like disrupted water, spanning over the hull in a torrent of gold static. A couple more rounds of that and we were toast.
Alarms sounded across the ship; all soldiers to the deck.
Another wave of demon jets. The shield fried, flickering a warning.
I stepped out from behind the pillar, ion blade in hand. I was dressed in non-descript Argentia armor, the lowest ranking kind. The element of surprise would be essential here.
Angel troops amassed behind me. The shield gave way as an enemy transporter crashed into the hull, almost blowing out our halo-charger. Demon soldiers made the jump across. Three dozen, led by an officer in armor I’d never seen before. Full black plate, ram horns, gleaming red eyes. There was an ion blade clutched in one of his hands, a mini-cannon in the other. His armor bled soft red light—some kind of shield.
Our sniper teams filed around the upper-level deck, opening fire as the demons charged. Crossfire commenced, a blood bath ensued, and I stood unflinching in the middle of it all, eyes locked on the leader.
He noticed me, too, and as he charged, ion blade raised over his horns, I dropped my weapon and unleashed my scythes. Through the tint of his visor I watched as fear wicked across his eyes. It made me smile.
***
Yahweh Telei—;
Ezekiel trembled as the demon transporter charged the hull. Her shield fell, its light fading, leaving us in almost complete darkness. The holo-map flickered, as did the data stream on the screens around the navigation room. I nearly lost my footing and grabbed the edge of the panel.
Gunfire erupted beyond the observatory. The demons had breached the ship.
Leid ordered the few soldiers stationed inside to guard the door. I kept quiet, mesmerized by the fight taking place only fifty feet below me. Until now I hadn’t come to terms with the idea that I could die, and soon.
A bullet hit the glass, snapping me out of that trance. I ducked, the glass thick and strong enough for the shell to catch. Had it broken through, it would have been a clean shot to the head.
Leid pulled me away from the window and pushed me down into the corner, standing sentry between me and the command station entrance. She said nothing, casting a feral gaze at the door, expecting enemies to break through at any moment. In her state I was uncertain whether Leid could fight at all, yet was humbled to know that she would die to protect me. Our contract meant more to her than I could ever understand.
“General Trede, status.” I tried to sound calm, but was sure he could hear the chaos happening just outside the room.
“Approaching Verdh, sir. I have most of our jets in tow. Ezekiel’s shield is out; requesting orders to reroute back and defend the ship.”
“Request denied, General. Blast the enemy base ship with everything you’ve got. Don’t worry about me, we’re holding our own.”
Seyestin hesitated with a response. He didn’t like my decision. “Yes, sir.”
“Yahweh,” called Leid, near whisper. “Are you armed?”
“No,” I said. I hated guns.
She said nothing else.
“Can you fight?” I asked, concerned.
“I can, but not as well as I could.” Her eyes drifted left. “If they get past Qaira and his team, I’m going to break the emergency hatch. I want you to take an escape pod back to Avernai and get to their cephalon. I’ll hold them off as long as I can.”
“I’m not retreating.”
“If you don’t, you’ll die.”
“If I run, we’ve lost.”
Leid frowned. “You’re a brave idiot.”
“You’re the first person who’s ever called me that.”
“Brave?”
“Idiot.”
I saw her smile against the soft luminescence of the holo-map. It was a smile I hadn’t seen in years.
“Sir,” Seyestin’s voice broke through the feed, “enemy shields are down. Leid’s attack dog is already on board.”
***
Naberius Uhnum—;
“We’re winning,” Lilith whispered, her voice shrill with disbelief. “We’re actually winning!”
As she practically jumped up and down, I smiled, pretending to share her joy. She hadn’t seen the foreboding frown I’d worn as Ezekiel’s shield went down. She’d been too busy cartwheeling around the command station, metaphorically speaking.
In an hour since the battle had begun, our forces—by sheer number alone—were able to push the angels away from Verdh and now held them in the middle of the Azenou Fields. Primer Tor was still on deck, shouting at jets and ground troops like a war-fueled psychopath. His partner had left our ship on a transporter with an elite team to storm Ezekiel. In everyone’s eyes, the demons had already seized the day.
Lilith and I were alone in the command station, having sent all the preliminary guards down with Primer Tor to guard the deck. An easy, safe charge; clearly the angels weren’t knocking any time soon.
“Naberius, get ready for the best promotion of your life,” exclaimed Lilith, and I suppose I understood her excitement. If the Argentia army lost, we would be commemorated as heroes.
My Aeon chimed and I slid it from my pocket, glancing down at the message.
It was time.
When I looked away from the device, Lilith was staring at me. “Who are you talking to?”
Her suspicion was valid, considering no one ever used their Aeon devices during a time like this. But this was not an Aeon issued by the Obsidian Court, or even their commercial communications branch. It was an encrypted, off-the-wave prototype that our intelligence department could never intercept, courtesy a friend from Junah WDR.
Instead of replying, I dropped the Aeon and grabbed her, reaching for the gun in my belt. Surprise inhibited a quick reaction, and before Lilith could fight I had the barrel pressed to the soft space beneath her chin.
I fired, three times.
Remnants of her brain hit the ceiling. She had died wearing an expression of confusion, like an animal slaughtered by a master whom it had loved and trusted. I let her go and she collapsed at my feet. No one had heard the shots fired amid the chaos outside.
For a second I stared down at her, feeling the pangs of guilt creep through my chest, settling in my heart. I’d liked Lilith; there’d been no qualms between us. Our only issue had been that she was happy where she was, and I was not.
I leaned over the navigation desk and opened systems control. A holo-grid of the ship’s configurations appeared across the panel. After a moment of hesitation, I pressed the button that deactivated our shield. Usually that was a command left only to the navigators, but I’d been given an admin code that overrode any permissions.
The shield faded in a warped hum. The halo charger chugged, vulnerable, and as Primer Tor and the guards on deck looked confusingly up at their fading failsafe, something heavy hit our ship.
An angel transporter.
A wave of jets a
ccompanied them, raining bullets across the deck. The halo-charger caught fire, erupted, and then all power was lost. I watched the holo-map flicker and dim, fading slowly to black. All the screens switched to static. I remained in the safety of the command station to watch the subsequent events, having held up my part of the bargain.
It was time for Belial to deliver his.
***
Belial Vakkar—;
I leaned against the rail as our transporter sped toward the defective ship. Pulse rifle resting over my shoulder, cane lodged against the iron gate; the only indication I was sailing through a war was the bullets and explosions in the backdrop. I’d taken twenty lives in an hour, but sniping was no longer necessary because the enemy’s command ship had been disabled. Those still alive in the air and over the field were scattering in retreat.
There were twelve of us on the transporter, Zhevraine in front. Before our craft made impact with the hull, she leapt over the rail and blurred across the deck, taking down a row of Obsidian guards before they even had a chance to grab their firearms. It was clear who her target was.
I grabbed the rail as we rammed the deck. The halo charger erupted into flames and fell sideways, crashing over their port. The others fled the transporter, yet I strayed, grabbing for my cane with an encumbered sigh. I needed a path cleared before I’d step on that ship. Close range fighting wasn’t really my thing. Not if I had a choice, anyway.
Zhevraine had engaged the ship’s Primer. It was an interesting sight, as any other guard came out of a scrap with her like a crumpled tin can. But this demon’s armor held, and for a moment he looked like he even had a chance. They exchanged blows, blades gleaming against firelight, but our Justice was too strong, too fast. She’d pinned him on the ground with a scythe through his shoulder plate, banging away at his armor shield until it broke. Surprisingly he didn’t scream when she’d hacked off his head.
The Antithesis- The Complete Pentalogy Page 76
