Rise of a Legion

by Trey Deibel

  Seeing a sudden moment to dash, I took it. Running back to the corner of the hangar, I shot at the dytircs to cover my back. Without my shield, I knew I had to be careful. Reaching the first crate in my journey, I glanced further back and spotted Shadow-Walker. He provided sniper cover from behind the farthest crate in the back.

  I yelled over to him, “Shadow, how big is this ocean of trouble we’ve gotten ourselves into?”

  “I’m in the dark! They jammed our coms a while ago. I haven’t heard from anyone,” he shouted back, continuing to snipe.

  “Have you kept track of our team?”

  “Earlier, I saw Brad start making his way to the rafters from the left side. Erryn and Narrisa are guarding the Striking Star. I haven’t seen Uslar or Vaal in a while.”

  “I’m over here, dimwit!” I heard Uslar yell from a distance. He was behind a crate a few dozen meters away from Shadow-Walker.

  “Heads up! Incoming mortar grenades!” Shadow-Walker yelled.

  I peered over the edge and saw a flurry of them headed in my direction. To my relief, Shadow-Walker had my back as he fired at a few, causing them to explode in the air before reaching me. That gave me enough time to dodge the rest and run to the next cover.

  “Shadow, cover my back!” I yelled as I sprinted for the next crate in my path. Meanwhile, Shadow-Walker shot at any dytirc shooting at me. Within a few seconds, I was there. Now that I was closer to Uslar, I asked, “Do you know what the hell is going on?”

  “I’m not too sure,” he informed me.

  “Then who should I talk to?”

  “Honestly, your best bet is with Erryn.”

  Taking a moment to shoot at some dytircs, I thanked him and headed toward the next crate. More plasma shots flew at me. Each time I ran for another crate, I made a bet with death.

  Now that I was within talking distance of Erryn, I reported, “We’re more than ready to leave this moon in the dust. Is the ship ready? How are the ship’s shields holding up?”

  Erryn shouted over the firing of her revolvers, “The shields have taken a lot of gunfire but can hold another ten minutes. Although, that’s the least of our concerns. Do you see that back there?”

  I looked in the direction she pointed. Up on top of the rafters, a large device rotated around, protected by a stasis shield from the front. Many bonies surround that area.

  “What is it?”

  “It’s a tractor beam. It has my ship locked into place. We can’t leave with that bitch on!”

  “What measures have you taken to destroy it?”

  “Brad tried shooting it with the grenade launcher on his shotgun, but the stasis shield protected it. Then he said screw it and went to take it out himself.”

  “Where is he now?”

  She pointed to the left edge of the hangar. Brad had made it far into their ranks, but he was pinned down behind a crate. A few dytircs at a time would try to overrun him, but each time he would shoot or knife them like a certified bad-ass.

  Erryn yelled, “Oh no! We have a boultha running in the hangar!”

  Sure enough, the definitive thumping of a boulthas stomps resonated through the hangar walls. Despite my better judgment, I took a wild, risky peek at it. Like a steamroller, the boultha plowed through the crates and enemies without care. It headed for the Striking Star!

  “Damn! Of all the times… Christ… I’m going to try and distract it. Could you cover my ass?”

  She nodded. “It would be a shame to see such a good ass go to waste.”

  With her cover fire, I dove for the farthest crate on the left side of the hangar. Once there, I fired at the boultha and stole its attention. It changed directions and bulldozed its way straight towards me. To my surprise, a group of dytircs had advanced to a crate near me. With a volley of plasma shots, they had me pinned down. With the Striking Star to my rear and the wall beside me, I had nowhere to go. I was a sitting dingle-berry, waiting to be stepped on.

  Vaal suddenly appeared from behind her cover and charged into the dytircs. She knocked over a bunch of them. Unfortunately, she now had the attention of the boultha. One by one, the dytircs were eliminated, only to be replaced by more - a seemingly endless supply. From nowhere, Malcolm appeared and joined me at my crate.

  “What are you doing here?” I continued to shoot at the dytircs.

  “I’m here to save your asses,” he said.

  He fired, not at the dytircs surrounding Vaal, but instead sending shots at the dytircs attacking Brad. Brad noticed and took that opportunity to make a mad dash toward us. From the corner of my eye, I noticed the boultha. It had gained significant distance and was mere meters from Vaal.

  “Vaal, bail! Now!” Brad yelled.

  Like a tidal wave, the boultha plowed into Vaal, knocking her down. In a rage, it hammered away at her. Strike after strike, it drove her deeper into the ground. Malcolm was frozen in place.

  Brad closed in on the monster. “You stupid-azz bitch!” he cursed.

  He pulled off his shotgun and fired a grenade at the boulthas back. It turned around and charged at Brad. He reloaded another grenade and fired at the boulthas leg. Before it fell to the ground, Brad slid under it and staggered up on the other side of it. With the precision of a tiger, he ran up the granite back of the boultha and unloaded multiple buckshots into its head. The monster had been slain, and its head crumbled away.

  Brad glanced over to Vaal. Malcolm was now at her side, holding her hand. I knew, at that moment, she’d passed. Brad spurted over to Malcolm and grabbed him by the shoulder before guiding him to me.

  When he arrived, Malcolm, with a hill of sadness in his voice, faltered, “I… ah, I got a plan to take out that tractor beam.”

  “What is it?”

  “I would explain, but it’s complicated. The more time we waste, the higher the chances we don’t make it out of this hangar alive. All I need you to do is cover me while Brad and I head over to that spot.” He pointed to the spot Brad had just came from. “Once we’re there, get everyone on the ship and ready to leave.”

  “Very well. On go.” I began to count down. “Go!”

  Brad and Malcolm bolted toward the crate. Meanwhile, I fired at the dytircs, forcing them to duck. Once Malcolm and Brad made it to the spot, I ducked down. After reloading, I continued to fire. I saw Malcolm and Brad strategizing, so I didn’t wait any longer and dashed back to Erryn.

  “Erryn, get everyone’s ass back on the ship!” I commanded.

  On cue, she went inside her ship. Moments later, over the speaker she said, “Everybody, fall back to the Striking Star!”

  I remained stationed at my crate, awaiting my crew to board. Narrisa stayed in her spot to assist me. Uslar made it aboard first, with Shadow-Walker on his rear. Valiic arrived next with Steion’s corpse. Once he went inside, Narrisa followed. Finally, Brad came around the corner and took a position next to me.

  “Where’s Malcolm? Why is the tractor beam still up?” I asked.

  “Malcolm haz dat shit under control. We need tah get inside da ship now!”

  “You go inside. I’ll cover Malcolm as he returns.” I continued to fire at the dytircs.

  Brad grabbed hold of my armor vest. “Look at me, Stonewall! His azz iz not coming back! We need tah be on dat ship!”

  “What?” I said, confused.

  Brad then pulled me from the cover. Not having time to react, I did as he said and boarded the ship. Dytircs had started advancing on us, and some had ventured next to the ship’s entrance. Once inside, all of us fired at every boney that tried boarding.

  In the distance, an explosion boomed through the air. We started to lift off as the entrance hatch closed. We were off into slip space - into safety.

  ⁕⁕⁕Malcolm Richardson⁕⁕⁕

  Only moments ago, Malcolm witnessed Steion’s life taken away from him. Although he only felt empty inside, Steion’s death, to Malcolm, meant Clover could rest in peace. But it also meant he had nothing left in this galaxy. He’d gotten his
revenge, but Clover was just as dead as before. The moment he witnessed his former wife’s death, he felt something inside break apart. He hoped this resolve would mend the internal wound, but it was all for naught. Everything Malcolm held dear from his past was now gone. Questions swirled around in his stubborn head. He wondered what purpose, if any, was left for him.

  My squad, was the only thought that repeated in his mind.

  Malcolm, Valiic, and James rushed for the hangar. All that time they spent fighting Steion could have meant the loss of one of their own; to Malcolm, that was an unacceptable compromise for a mission. Fire, smoke, and gunfire filled the room. All around the hangar, crates were the only thing to use for cover. James ducked and took cover at the nearest crate. Malcolm and Valiic followed him.

  “Both of you find a spot and hold your position. Valiic, make sure this finds its way inside the Striking Star.” James laid Steion’s body down for Valiic. “I’m going to find Erryn,” he said before taking off.

  Malcolm’s eyes wandered around the room. His adrenaline was tapped out, and he felt the rush of his memories flood back into his mind – specifically the night his daughter died. He unsuccessfully tried to suppress those terrible thoughts. His visions flared, and he was back home...plasma fire blasted through the house...dytircs were everywhere...smoke filled his lungs...

  “Malcolm!” Valiic shocked Malcolm out of his nightmare.

  Malcolm’s mind returned to the present. “Sorry… uh… bad memory.” Malcolm came to his senses.

  “I need you to focus, Malcolm. There are only a few of us against a hundred of them.”

  “You’re right. Umm, can you cover me? I going to figure things out.”

  “Be careful.” Valiic started to fire at a group of dytircs.

  Malcolm scrambled over to a crate near the center of the hangar. All he could think about was finding Vaal and Brad. Malcolm studied the hangar with his head high in the air. A few shots hit him, but the shields on the power armor absorbed them. Far in the distance, Malcolm spotted Brad. He was doing the typical one-man army shivf he usually did and seemed to be taking on half the dytircs in the hangar.

  Malcolm ducked back down and allowed his shields to recharge. He popped his head back up and spotted something peculiar: Up on some rafters, heavily guarded by many dytircs, was a tractor beam that held Erryn’s ship in place. Knowing that, Malcolm understood what had to be done. He crunched the numbers in his head and saw only a tragic solution to the problem, but first he had to reach Brad to implement the plan.

  With Malcolm’s power armor to protect him, he moved from one crate to another. At each stop, he allowed his shields to recharge. His pursuit was interrupted, though, as a boultha charged into the hangar.

  Malcolm was about to help when his area suddenly became a mine field as mortar grenades were fired at him. He dove out of the way, but some of the explosions, along with the secondary blasts, hammered him backwards. In the middle of the field, Malcolm lay with his shields almost drained. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a dytirc with a bow caster. The dytirc launched five more mortar grenades at Malcolm’s position. He shot at a few of the dytircs, then fled to the nearest crate. From there, he tossed a few frags of his own. He heard a couple explosions and knew he had an opportunity. Malcolm hopped up and aimed at the nearest group of dytircs. Fueled by anger and fear, he let his gun do the talking and emptied his magazine into the dytircs. Many fell dead.

  With that out of the way, Malcolm looked around for the next crate behind which to take cover. He then glanced over and saw James struggling with a group of dytircs. Vaal had just charged into the same group.

  Malcolm looked for the boultha. “Damn!” he cursed out loud. Malcolm saw the boultha stampeding towards Vaal! Quickly, Malcolm came up with an idea. He ran over to James’ crate.

  “What are you doing here?” James asked him.

  “I’m here to save your asses,” Malcolm responded and fired rounds at the dytircs attacking Brad in the hopes that Brad could save Vaal. When Brad noticed the boultha, he immediately made a dash to help Vaal.

  “Vaal, bail! Now!” Brad yelled.

  Vaal didn’t notice the boultha until it was too late. She took the full hit of the boultha as it rammed into her! She tried to stop the monster, but it unloaded strike after strike on her! Malcolm’s heart skipped a beat, and he froze in place.

  “You stupid-azz bitch!” Malcolm heard Brad say as he pulled the boulthas attention away from Vaal.

  As soon as that happened, Malcolm regained his focus and ran to Vaal. She’d been pounded into the flooring, her body was covered with blood, and her armor was shattered.

  “Mal… colm,” Vaal mumbled. Blood ran down the sides of her mouth as she spoke.

  Malcolm grabbed her hand; it was a warm glove of blood. “Don’t speak. I’ll call Uslar. He’ll be here in no time.”

  “Don’t, I… not… go… make it.” Vaal gagged on some blood. “Funny… isn’t it?”

  “What is?”

  “How we… ended up on… Ja-James’s side.” Vaal struggled for her last breath. “James… even... convinced you… of all people.”

  Her body went limp as she let out her last breath. And with that, he lost another thing precious to him. What else was left?

  Tears formed in Malcolm’s eyes. As if the final nail in the coffin, he made up his mind. He couldn’t let his mistake take away more lives.

  “You were too young for this.”

  He took a moment to honor her memory. He couldn’t help wondering if Vaal’s life was worth the death of a warlord. Surely, many commanders would consider this mission - if you can even call it that - a success. However, Malcolm didn’t see it that way. James Stone had gained Malcolm’s respect, but he couldn’t help thinking Vaal’s death was all James’s fault as well. Malcolm guessed that was why James was the legionnaire and he was the hunter. That being said, Vaal did bring up something Malcolm hadn’t considered to analyze. A week ago, Malcolm was hell-bound on capturing James, and now here he stood, fighting on James’s side.

  Brad grabbed Malcolm on his shoulder and broke his trance. “Snap your azz out of it, Bozz!” That’s when Malcolm remembered his plan to destroy the tractor beam.

  Brad and Malcolm arrived at James’s position. Malcolm, still in shock at his comrade’s death, could barely put thoughts to words. “I… ah, I got a plan to take out that tractor beam.”

  “What is it?”

  “I would explain, but it’s complicated. The more time we waste, the higher the chances we don’t make it out of this hangar alive. All I need you to do is cover me while Brad and I head over to that spot.” Malcolm pointed to the spot Brad had just come from. “Once we’re there, get everyone on the ship and ready to leave.”

  “Very well. On go.” James began to count down. “Go!”

  Malcolm dashed over to the crate, with Brad at his side. With help from James, Malcolm and Brad almost reached their destination without taking a shot.

  Malcolm spoke to Brad when they were settled behind a crate. “I need your help to take out the tractor beam.”

  “You got it.” Brad shot a grenade and reloaded the launcher with another.

  “I’m out of breach charges, but I’m sure you aren’t. I need all the ones you have left,” Malcolm shouted over the gunfire.

  Brad pulled two from his back pouch and unwrapped them. Brad handed them to Malcolm, who stuck them to his armor, one on each side.

  “Bozz, what da hell ya doin’?” Brad asked Malcolm.

  “I’m going to get everyone out of here!” Malcolm finished sticking the charges to his sides.

  Brad continued his assault. “N’ me?”

  Malcolm emitted a hologram from his cyberwatch and started typing. After a minute, he was finished. “I want you to give that Letter of Absolution to whoever’s going to represent James in his trial.” Malcolm swiped over the document to Brad.

  “Shit! Never seen ya write one of dose before.”

&
nbsp; “And you won’t see me write one again. Brad, I’m going to take out that tractor beam, and I won’t be coming back from it.”

  Brad stopped shooting. “Bozz, it’z been an honor.” Brad reached out and shook Malcolm’s hand.

  “Likewise. Make sure you make it back, Brad. James is going to be looking for a new squad member.”

  Brad nodded. “Bozz, give ‘em hell.”

  He then took off, leaving Malcolm alone. Not wasting any time, Malcolm bolted into the ranks of dytircs. He stopped trying to repress his old memories and just let them flow.

  Malcolm suddenly found himself transported back into his house. He was dizzy, and everything was blurry. Stumbling and falling, he rushed out of his bedroom and into his living room. Fire was everywhere, feeding on the furniture of the house and licking the walls like a mad dog. Smoke clouded his vision further, and he gasped for each dry, smoke-filled breath as the heat baked his dark shin. He fell again to the sounds of plasma fire outside. Victims screamed in the distance from the neighborhood outside his home’s walls. Despite his lungs screaming for him to give in to death, he managed to pull himself up. He could nearly taste the burning wood of the house on the roof of his mouth. He peeked through the window: More fire in the distance, roaring with town-destroying fury. Shadows and silhouettes of distant people ran and flailed their arms in terror as they fled from dytircs. Some fell, never to get up again. Streaks of plasma screeched through the air. Some passed in the distance, and others blasted through the walls of his home.

  Finally, he made it into the next room. The lights were off, and a fire ate at the curtain shades. In the corner, another shadow stood there, looking down.

  “She’s dead!” Clover’s distorted voice repeated over and over again.