Welcome to The Bridge Burners: The Planetside Legacy

Please use the chapter guide to the right...

Wednesday 21 March 2007

The Glass Frontier and the Field of Broken Memories

The Bridge Burners: The Planetside Legacy
Series 3: Shadows and Shattered Worlds
Part 1: The Glass Frontier and the Field of Broken Memories

In all over seventy thousand inhabited worlds are bent to the rule of the Terran Republic, a full two thirds of the known galaxy fall under the watchful eye of the Inquisition and the Republican Fleets, and every year they push further out into the frontier.
There was a time long ago when this expansion was fuelled by the desire to find a greater purpose for humanity and to satisfy our own curiosity about what lay beyond in the dark unknown, a more innocent age of manned space flight now lost to greed and conquest.
Beyond the Galactic Core lies the vast track of space known as the Frontiers, the boundary of the Republic’s reach from Ancient Terra and the Orion worlds, a line that moves further out with every year and every new conquest. Life is by no means easy on the frontier colonies, the distance from the Orion Tract results in delays in receiving supplies, medical supplies and emergency assistance; and the threat of war spilling over from the conquests is forever present.
Fear and paranoia keeps the colonies in check, and when a crime is committed the citizens can turn to the Colonial Marshal’s Service for justice and security, and should the worst happen there are other forces waiting in the wings…
*****
Dust and smoke blackened the clouds, bathing the world in a perpetual twilight, no town or village could offer sanctuary from the civil war that had spread its grasp over the entire planet.
The catalyst had been a small prisoner transport crash landing near a small settlement along a dusty mesa, the few survivors had been taken to the local clinic until aid could arrive from one of the hospitals in the colony capitol Ourilly. As was common on new frontier colonies a disease was sweeping the population, the inevitable outcome of humans encountering a bacteria or virus to which they have no natural immunity, and as a result medical aid was at a premium.
Magellan’s Vigil was a relatively new colony along the Shadow Frontier, the edge of the territory yet explored by the Terran Republic in their march across the galaxy, far beyond the core and the furthest point from Ancient Terra yet reached. Ground was broken on Ourilly little over one hundred years ago and now it was the central hub of a healthy and prosperous colony, its starports a hive of activity as settlers arrived in droves, drawn by the prospect of untapped riches and prime real estate.
The Colonial Marshals had an easy time on MV compared to some of the worlds they policed, crime rates in Ourilly were the lowest of any of the frontier cities and the townsfolk beyond held a great sense of community welfare.
The peace started to unravel when a Republic destroyer arrived in orbit to resecure the prisoners from the fallen transport, which brought immediate tension as TR enlisted generally thought of colonials as little more than backward hicks who could only just be regarded as human due to having opposable thumbs. The leader of the force was a highly-strung Inquisitor by the name of Sandalfon, a man in whom the fleet’s disdain for the colonies was fully embodied, and he wasted no time in leaving the planetary governor as little more than a gibbering wreck.
He arrived at the crash site and proceeded to the small town of Cook’s Post where he was received with the same dues as any Inquisitor, with fear. The prisoners had mingled with the population, that much he knew for certain, he wanted only to get the identities of those who had survived. Executor Villeford had been very specific as to how Sandalfon was to deal with the survivors.
Fire rained from the heavens upon the hapless residents of Cook’s Post, in a few short minutes everything along the mesa had been flattened back to the dust from which it came.
A cry of outrage went up from Ourilly and a force of angered citizens led by none other than the Colonial Marshals turned upon the TR occupying force, Magellan’s Vigil was now at war.
After 17 days of fighting the TR reinforcements were yet to arrive and under the command of the Marshals the Colonials had almost managed to completely claim Ourilly and all of it’s supply bunkers. Buildings smouldered and parks burned as the TR advance pushed on the Baffin District, the weakest point of defence in the CM lines. Missiles shot overhead and tore apart the once prosperous city; everywhere the sound of automatic weapons fire permeated the air and chilled the bones.
Prowlers pushed through the weaker barricades in the district and allowed the more manoeuvrable lightning tanks to swarm the streets, the Marshals were forced to fall back under the onslaught of the armoured cavalry. Baffin District was going to fall.
Colonial transports rolled through the streets, until the TR advance the district had been well beyond the fray and as such was not yet completely evacuated, there were still families in some homes and the great glass tower of the district hospital was still operating at full capacity.
As the evacuation began Marshall Steele threw open the door to his home, “Susanna!”
Frantically he ran from room to room, “Susanna!”
“Alex?”
He turned and saw her close the door to their son’s room, “Suz, get Andrew, we have to go right now.”
She had known this was coming, the sound of heavy assault rifles had come closer by the hour, she’d heard the explosions as the tanks worked through the district.
She went back into her son’s room where he slept peacefully in the dark, blissfully unaware of the chaos approaching. Gently she placed a hand on his shoulder, “Andrew. Andrew, wake up, love.”
He fluttered his eyelids, the light coming from the open doorway blurring his vision, “Mum?”
“Andrew, get dressed quickly, honey, we have to go,” Susanna spoke calmly and softly, she didn’t want to frighten the boy.
There was an explosion in the street outside, “Hurry, son.”
A crash came from downstairs accompanied by a lot of shouting and a few seconds of gunfire.
Susanna’s face blanched, “Andrew, hide.”
She turned and ran to the hallway, “Alex?”
Heavy footsteps, “Well, well. What have we here?”
From under his bed Andrew could see a man in heavy Republic armour standing at the top of the stairs ahead of his mother. Three more soldiers in lighter armour climbed the stairs behind him, their uniforms were flecked with dried blood.
“Looks like we can take a quick break boys,” the heavier soldier sneered. He undid the bandoleer of his armour and strode towards Susanna, who backed away in response.
He grabbed her by the arm and dragged her into the master bedroom, Andrew could see nothing of what happened next for the other soldiers blocked his view but he could hear his mother screaming, a sound that he would remember for the rest of his days.
One of the soldiers turned and went to explore the rest of the house, Andrew watched him go, but then he saw a reflection in the mirror of the master bedroom. He felt tears on his face and his breath was a mixture of sobs and gasps, and he felt his control slipping.
Amidst his turmoil a face appeared at his bedroom door, the curious soldier entered the room and had a brief glance about. With a snort he picked up a Hardick Puzzle Cube and turned to leave the room, it was then that he heard the faint sobbing that seemed to be coming from beneath the bed.
Going down on one knee and raising the sheets he peered under, “Aw shit.”
He reached under and beckoned Andrew to him, “C’mon kid, you don’t want to be here for this.”
His mother screamed again as the next soldier loosened his gear, the heavier man sauntered from the room as Andrew was led towards the stairs.
“Got a kid, Sarge,” the soldier said to the heavier man.
“Take him to the transport,” was the reply, “ship him off to boot with the others.”
At the bottom of the stairs Andrew turned and spotted the bullet-ridden corpse of his father lying in a pool of blood in the kitchen, he began to sob again.
“For what it’s worth kid, I’m sorry,” the man said to him, “war doesn’t generally bring out the best in man.”
His mother continued to scream as he was led out the door, and standing in the flickering porch-light facing the imposing grey transport he heard a single gunshot. The screaming stopped.
*****
After a few years in juvenile training Andrew was transferred out to the Karnak Training Facility in the Wolf System. He kept to himself most of the time, his childhood experience had left him wary of his fellow man and he was in no hurry to repair that bridge.
“Ok you maggots best listen up, you are in big boy boot now and I am senior drill instructor Sergeant Grahn, I am God so far as you are concerned, my word is gospel and while you are here you will obey me! Do you get me?”
“Sir, yes sir,” the recruits responded in unison as Grahn walked the line of new arrivals.
“You are worthless right now,” the drill instructor barked, “you don’t even deserve to wear that glorious emblem that adorns your gear HANDS AT YOUR SIDES SOLDIER nor do you deserve to stand like men SUCK IN THAT GUT!”
Grahn stopped and sighed, “What a sorry bunch of primates that I had to get lumbered with. You, what’s your excuse?”
Andrew froze up under the sergeant’s steely gaze
“Well boy? Sound off like you’ve got a pair.”
“Sir, I’m from the frontier, sir,” he barked.
“I know that, cadet, I could smell the horse shit as soon as I stepped onto this yard. What colony?”
“Sir, Magellan’s Vigil, sir.”
Grahn looked at the young man for a few seconds, his square jaw grinding as he appraised the cadet, “You might just make it here, boy, but I’ve been wrong before. Try not to let me down.”
“Sir, yes sir.”
Grahn strode further down the line, “So, scumbag, what do you want to blame? Holy shit, from the look of your face I’d say you’d want to start with God and work your way down a very long list. Son, I’m recommending you for heavy weapons training, you look like you could hold a special grudge against the universe and I think we could harness that.”
*****
Andrew’s new outfit had thirty minutes to stow their gear in their barracks and report to the mess hall, forty minutes of senior drill sergeant Grahn had left them under no illusion as to just how low they were ranked in the food chain.
“You’re from Magellan’s Vigil?”
Andrew looked up to see a well built blonde man leaning on his bunk, “Yeah.”
“That’s too bad man. Lot of bad shit happened out there.”
The blonde kid could see Andrew’s jaw clenching up, “Hey man, I’m sorry, didn’t mean to drag up any bad memories, the present is going to be hard enough.”
Andrew shoved his pack into his footlocker, “Don’t worry about it.”
“Hey,” the blonde kid smiled and offered his hand, “the name’s Michael.”
“Andrew.”
“C’mon buddy, let’s get us some chow. I’ve got a feeling we’ve got a long day ahead of us.”
*****
“I swear to God if you maggots don’t pick up the pace I’m going to get a chain and I’m going to flog each and every worthless member of this farce of an outfit until I cum from the experience.”
Sweat fell from the brows of the cadets in great beads as they ran the intense obstacle course; the packs they bore were loaded with dead weight to the point that many trainees bled from the shoulders.
“I want a record time set by this evening or else we’ll run this through the night. GET BACK ON THAT FRAME AND TRY AGAIN, NUMBNUTS!”
Andrew swung easily across the overhead bars, Michael almost parallel to him on the frame as they raced each other. Over the last few weeks a friendly rivalry had built between the pair as they pushed each other further and faster in their performance, each able to keep the other going during moments of weakness.
“Forget it, dude,” Andrew quipped between breath’s, “you’re never crossing that line before me.”
Michael nimbly scaled the cargo net, “You frontier boys are all the same, brought up in a little dust and suddenly you all think that you’re men.”
“And you Central boys start thinking you’re men when you get that first bit of dust beneath your finger nails.”
“Neither of you maggots are men,” Grahn barked, “pick up the pace.”
*****
“Congratulations, cadets, from today forwards you are no longer maggots. Today I am proud to say that you are now apes.”
Grahn marched sternly along the line of soldiers who now, after months of intensive training, stood taller and prouder than the sorry collection that once occupied the same space.
“The reason for this little evolution is that today you get to take one step closer to being a man, we’re taking away your training guns and giving you real M37R4 Moretta Assault Rifles with real, honest to God bullets. Cowboy, sound off on the Moretta.”
“Sir, the M37R4 is a new model compact assault rifle in a bullpup configuration.” Andrew rhymed off the stats in his head, “it fires standard 5.56 millimetre rounds at a rate of 85 rounds per minute on full auto, has a muzzle velocity of 2756 feet per second and the standard clip is 45 rounds, sir.”
“Very good, Cowboy.” Grahn stiffened, “Now you apes will practice safety when using live rounds on my assault range or I will get the chain again. Get suited up and assemble in 10.”
In the barracks Michael sat stripped to his vest and underwear as he polished the last of the dust from his boots, behind him Andrew was removing his armour from his locker and arranging it on his bunk.
“Hey, what the hell?”
Michael looked over his shoulder to see Andrew investigating the back of his reinforced armour, three concentric circles had been painted in red, white and blue on it.
“Just a little something for luck,” Michael said with a wink and a smile.
Andrew sighed at the big target painted on his back.
*****
The sun was splitting the trees and the concrete of the parade ground was baked. Bands played as Grahn strode the line of soldiers standing firmly to attention, their red and white dress uniforms bright in the morning sun.
“Well, I never thought that it would happen but you are men now. Congratulations soldiers, you are now amongst the finest of the Terran Republic Armed Services, you can go forth into the galaxy now and get paid to kill folk. Do me proud.”
*****
It was an all action alert, the fleet was mobilised to suppress a civil war that had broken out on some frontier colony, the situation was further antagonised when a High Inquisitor seized control of the fleet operations, apparently he had some history with the world.
Andrew watched through the barrack viewport as waves of light washed by, a planet rushed ahead of them and the craft decelerated from jump, frigates streaked past as they slowed slightly later than the carriers. Immediately they opened fire on the attack craft in orbit of the world and rained plasma upon the known enemy landing zones.
“Ok, men,” Lieutenant Enrico strode down the rank and file, “Magellan’s Vigil has been under fire for eight weeks now.”
Andrew held back a knee jerk reaction at hearing his homeworld was at war once again, and that he was going in with the very force that had torn it up once before.
“The insurgents, disgruntled members of the Marshal’s Service, have hired in mercenaries to bolster their forces. At this time we believe civilian involvement to be minimal to non-existent, so check your fire in populated areas. I do not want any unnecessary casualties, is that clear?”
“Sir, yes sir,” the troops barked in unison.
“The High Inquisitor has ordered that all opposition be eliminated with extreme prejudice. It seems that he would like us to leave a blood bath as a message to any further dissidents.”
Michael and Andrew had been in Lt Enrico’s outfit for nearly four months now and they’d came to know that Enrico didn’t do blood baths, no matter who the order had came from. Andrew for one was glad, he didn’t relish the idea of fighting on his home planet, never mind the thought of being involved in another massacre on the world.
The surface was hell. After weeks of fighting Ourilly was little more than a burned out husk, it’s streets strewn with rubble and spent shell casings, trees and parkways crushed to mulch under the machina of war, monuments to colonial endeavour lay in shattered and broken testament to the bloodshed. The wreckage of aerial transports remained smashed wherever they had crashed from the skyways, overhead great streaks of acrid black smoke scoured the heavens as wreckage from the battle in orbit burned through the atmosphere. The occasional aerotech fighter shot by and moments later the street would erupt under a blaze of carpet-bombing, missiles and random artillery fire decimated the landscape.
“Didn’t think that I’d ever see this place again,” Andrew mused as the transport rolled into the quieter Baffin District, he felt butterflies in his stomach as the memories came back with each faded signpost and every broken monument.
“Your old house somewhere around here?” Michael asked his friend as they knocked the door of the first home on their list. The Marshals had taken to drafting or otherwise taking hostage any civilians they happened upon, Enrico and a few select squads were evacuating the populace to reduce the number of unnecessary deaths.
“I would doubt it,” Andrew ushered a family out to a waiting transport, “this area was a bastard to defend last time and got hit pretty hard, in the end it bore the brunt of the assault force that eventually retook the city. My home was probably left as little more than rubble.”
The radio hissed to life, “Squads in sector K7 be advised mercenary armour has been spotted moving into the area.”
“Right,” Enrico yelled in the streets, “we have incoming, get these people out of here now and prepare for fire.”
The last of the civilians ran to the waiting transports as a vibration began to rumble steadily through the ground, the rhythmic thrum of the heavy hitting vanguard tanks favoured by mercenary units across the galaxy.
“Come on come on come on,” Michael ordered some of the slower civvies who had chosen to lug some personal effects.
“Incoming!” Andrew yelled as an explosion tore apart the upper level of the building beside him. Dust and rubble fell about the soldiers as another blast took out an aerotram that had been parked on the pavement.
“Cowboy, Street, get these people into the transports now!” Enrico ordered as he fired off a volley towards the vanguards, “Deano, get on that crowd pleaser and give us some cover fire.”
Stones bounced off their armour as Michael and Andrew helped the last of the civvies into the transport, the roar of the dual 12.76mm anti armour cannons fired by private Deano was like the sweetest music to their ears.
“That’s the last of them,” Andrew called as the transports began to move out of the area.
“Command, this is Lieutenant Enrico in K7, I need artillery support at co-ordinates k7-54.2 by 55.718.”
“Roger that,” the radio hissed, “request for artillery support granted. Shot underway.”
Above the ring of weapons fire and the thud of the vanguards another sound could be heard, a low whistle that ended in a blaze of hellfire as the area around the vanguards erupted in a storm of artillery shells.
“Thank God for the man above,” Michael laughed as he watched the tanks buckle under the hail and get torn to pieces.
“Now I know that you don’t mean the inquisitor,” Deano called from his turret.
“Heh, I hardly mean Sandalfon.”
“Sandalfon?” Andrew turned to his friend, “that bastard is leading this mission?”
“I take it that you know him beyond reputation then?”
Andrew gritted his teeth, “It was that son of a bitch who started the last war here.”
“Well that explains why he wants a blood bath,” Enrico said as the last shots rained upon the shattered metal, “he probably feels that he’s got unfinished business here. I mean, the guy is mad for blood and he doesn’t care where he gets it…”
A horrible thought occurred to the lieutenant, and it seemed that the thought was shared by more than a few of his soldiers.
“The transports…”
Enrico quickly turned and strode towards their command transport whilst activating his comm link, “Sector K7 civilians evacuated safely, request galaxy pick up.”
Static hissed across the radio, “Request for extraction denied, sector is still compromised. Proceed to sector J5 to assist forces in assault against Marshal way station.”
Assist in an assault?
“Command, my unit is equipped for search and rescue, we do not have the capability to take part in an assault at this time.”
“Roger that, lieutenant, orders stand. Proceed to sector J5 and assist Republic forces.”
Enrico looked around the men under his command, at the people who depended on him to lead them to victory, at the soldiers who depended on him to lead them wisely.
“To hell with our orders, fall back to forward base at I6 and gear up. If we’re quick we can get to the civvies before they are shipped on.”
“Roger that,” the squad responded.
Moving quickly through the battered streets the unit found no shortage of cover amongst all the rubble. The grey sky was fading to twilight as another forbidding night rolled in, the mercenaries were liable to use the cover of darkness to ship more troops into the area. The Republic fleet wasn’t large enough to effectively blockade the world from corvettes or the faster RD (Rapid Deployment) jump ships that could drop a hundred drop pods and be gone again without ever presenting a target.
“Clear,” Michael called as he scanned the street.
The troops flitted from cover to cover as they made their way across the sector, in the distance they could hear the rapid fire burr of the new Cycler rifles and the man-portable chain guns that had recently entered service.
Ducking next to Enrico Andrew could no longer refrain from asking, “Sir, if we do make it to the civvies what are we going to do with them?”
“The monorails are still running, we’ll ship them to one of the outlying towns and hope for the best. The fighting is contained more or less within the city so hopefully they should be safe enough.”
“Sir,” Enrico’s radio crackled, it was Michael, “you’d better come see this.”
“What have you got, Street?”
“Its… you’d better come see, sir.”
“Cowboy, with me.”
Moving silently ahead and around the corner of a battered tower block Enrico slipped towards Michael’s position with Andrew covering his back, the soldier stood at the edge of a large crater in what looked like was once a park.
“What is it, Stree… oh my God!”
Beneath the lip of the crater was a mass of flesh, a pit of lifeless bodies abandoned to the elements. This was a mass grave.
“Dear God,” Andrew gasped, “these are the people we just evacuated.”
Deano knelt near the pit, he was examining the ground carefully.
“You think the transports were hit?”
“No,” Dean said at last, “this darker tread is from a locked wheel, but there’s only one and the mark isn’t short enough to indicate an emergency stop. They pulled up at this crater and made everyone stand in line, those dark patches by the lip are urine stains and these shell casings came from a Moretta. This was an execution.”
“Sandalfon got his blood bath,” Michael spoke, his voice almost a whisper.
There was fire in both Enrico’s eyes and Andrew’s, “Squad, move to I6 now, we’re recalling to the fleet.”
*****
At the forward base the squad were both surprised and enraged to find High Inquisitor Sandalfon strolling about like some glorious, all-conquering General.
Enrico put a hand on Andrew’s chest when he spotted the soldier moving towards the Inquisitor, “Careful, Cowboy, this is a bad place to pick a fight.”
“You men,” the Inquisitor spotted Enrico’s squad, “surely there is a fight somewhere that you should be in.”
“Sir,” Enrico stepped forward, “my men are ill equipped for an assault, we have just returned from a mission that, with all due respect, seems to have been little more than a cover for a pointless massacre.”
Sandalfon raised a dark eyebrow, he detected the venom in the lieutenant’s voice, “You have a problem with obeying your orders, lieutenant?”
“When those orders involve the murder of innocent-“ Andrew piped in but was restrained by his commander.
“Not here,” Enrico hissed, “Inquisitor, I do not see what purpose the murder of innocent civilians could possibly serve.”
“Nor do I expect you to,” Sandalfon replied haughtily, “you are paid only to follow orders, you aren’t given enough information to question them. But if you need to find some reason to justify your actions then you should ask yourself one thing, how effective can an army be if you remove its most necessary resource?”
Enrico tasted bile in his mouth, “You killed all those people, who were fleeing the area, on the off chance that they might side with the Marshals?”
Andrew felt sick to his stomach, he heard whisperings from his squad mates behind him, the outfit was now tainted with the blood of at least forty innocents, unwittingly or not they had now damned themselves.
“You catch on quickly for a grunt,” the Inquisitor sneered, “and now perhaps you’d like to try and convince me as to why I shouldn’t have you charged with treason for that little conversation.”
At that time a young officer trotted up to Sandalfon, “High Inquisitor, sir, I have an urgent report for you.”
Sandalfon rolled his eyes, “Go ahead, corporal.”
“Sir, a Republic Fleet has just arrived in orbit, sir.”
That brought a smile to the Inquisitor’s face, with those additional ships he would now be able to effectively blockade this dust ball and crush the Marshals, “Good, Executor Villeford is looking out for us.”
“Uh, no, sir,” the corporal swallowed, “the fleet is flagged by the Truth and Consequence.”
“The Flagship?” Sandalfon’s eyes narrowed, the Rialtine Fleet, what did they want?
“Yes, sir. The Executor’s shuttle is inbound as we speak.”
Enrico and Andrew looked at one another. While it was true that command didn’t share enough information with the grunts for them to make a decision every soldier in the military knew that the arrival of the Republic Flagship meant that something big was going on. Executors don’t just leave Central without reason, and they certainly don’t waste their time on uprisings along the Frontier.
“Prep a shuttle to take me to Command and Control,” Sandalfon ordered the corporal, “and get me the latest intelligence reports.”
“Sir, the Executor isn’t going to the C&C,” the young soldier paled, “he’s coming here.”
As if on cue a roar of engine’s filled the air as a ship shaped like the world’s most evil dagger turned on it’s axis overhead, landing lights flashed as it’s gear lowered. Flood lights tracked through the failing light of the evening until they found their target on High Inquisitor Sandalfon.
The shuttle touched down with a blast of dust and a wave of heat from the jet wash passed over those around, already the hatch was open and a force of black clad special guard were taking positions to secure the complex.
Enrico’s squad were led to one side and ordered to lay down arms, which they were more than happy to do given the circumstances. Andrew watched as a man dressed in fleet command attire emerged, to be followed by a taller man dressed in the gold adorned black and red uniform of an Executor, two special guard troopers flanked them.
He couldn’t see much more than their silhouettes due to the intensity of the floodlights glaring about the area, but he could hear the exchange.
“Executor Gainsborough, to what do I owe the honour, sir?”
The Executor took a step forward, “High Inquisitor Sandalfon, you are under arrest for acts of high treason against the Terran Republic.”
The Inquisitor took a step back, “What? I never-“
“Spare me your falsehoods,” Gainsborough barked, for someone so young he commanded incredible authority, “we have been through your accounts thoroughly. You should really be more careful about which mercenaries you choose to rely on, especially when they are the known associates of a dissident like Bagdh Dearg.”
Sandalfon knew that he was in a corner now, he had paid mercenaries to incite riots in Ourilly and he had made an anonymous donation to the Colonial Marshals in order for them to hire the same mercs to quell the uprising.
“The High Council is well aware of the fact that you lost both your sons in the previous war on this world, a war which the High Council is also well aware that you are most likely to have incited. That you would risk the stability of the Republic for such a grievance is inexcusable.”
“Sir, I have full backing from Executor Villeford, if you just-“
“Villeford has been stripped of his titles and is currently en route to Inferis for his involvement in this,” the Executor crossed his arms, “you on the other hand now have a choice, Halo 7, or the cranial bore.”
Sandalfon looked into Gainsborough’s eyes, desperately searching for some sort of compassion or reprieve. There was none.
“The bore,” was all that he could muster, his voice was barely a whisper.
“So be it,” Gainsborough turned to the man beside him, “Dumas, let the record show that High Inquisitor Sandalfon has chosen execution by cranial bore.”
“Aye, sir.”
“You men,” the Executor spoke to Enrico’s squad without turning to them, “there is a mesa 60 kilometres due west of here. Take Sandalfon to that place, strip him of his titles and fire the bore into his head.”
Andrew had waited over twenty years for the day he would see Sandalfon die, but now he almost felt compassion for the man, to have lost his family and then face execution by one of the worst devices conceived just didn’t seem right. He just had to remind himself that this man was a mass murderer, the cause of two wars on his homeworld.
“Sir, what about the conflict?” Dumas spoke to the Executor as they turned to board the shuttle.
“What is the civilian population of the city?”
“Moderate to minimal,” Dumas read from his hand terminal, “most have been evacuated to the outlying towns or executed by the former Inquisitor.”
“Right, pull our forces out of the city and inform the command of the Colonial Marshals Service that dissension will not be tolerated.”
*****
In the starlight the broken city appeared to be a damaged crystal, Andrew admired its beauty from the distant mesa, somehow after everything the city had been through it would go on. It was damaged but the people would rebuild, there would be new monuments, new parks and life would once again be good for the people of Ourilly and Magellan’s Vigil.
Turning back to the galaxy he saw Sandalfon in chains, a broken man now who had no will to struggle as Michael tore his standards and medals from his uniform. A single tear rolled down his cheek as Enrico hefted the curved barrel of the cranial bore and ordered him to his knees.
“Cowboy,” the lieutenant said, “this man is most responsible for what happened to your family, if you want, you can end this.”
Andrew looked at the device offered by his commander, “No, sir. As Sandalfon has already shown, a thirst for vengeance will do nothing to ease the pain.”
Enrico looked the soldier in the eye and nodded, then without a word he pulled the trigger.
A high pitched whine shot from the device and a claw burst from the barrel and latched on to Sandalfon’s head, Enrico lowered the spent launcher as the conical drill in the body of the bore began to eat it’s way into the Inquisitor’s skull. Through it’s hollow core a mass of flesh and bone began to spew forth as Sandalfon screamed and writhed in agony, yellow goo of the cerebrospinal fluid began to squirt out followed by a bloody mass of pink flesh as the bore hit the brain.
A single gunshot rang out in the night.
Andrew lowered his pistol as the corpse of Sandalfon collapsed to the ground.
He turned back towards the city and sighed, it was over at last. Michael and Enrico came to his side, they watched in the darkness as the last of the Republic shuttles took to the sky.
“It’s over, I guess,” Michael said as he watched the shuttle ascend, “you think the CMS will surrender or what?”
“With the Flagship and her fleet in orbit I imagine the Marshals will probably try to negotiate a cease-fire or a conditional surrender.”
A single aerotech fighter passed overhead and arced higher into the sky heading back into orbit, as it passed over Ourilly something shiny seemed to drop from it.
The three soldiers watched as it slowly fell towards the ruined cityscape, a simple metallic object with no noticeably functioning parts. They watched until realisation sank in.
“Oh… fuck!”
They turned as a flash so bright that it burned erupted from the city, Andrew felt his skin tingle as the light washed over them…
*****
He fell to the ground coughing and spluttering everything was a blur, his vision was acting like his eyes had never been used before. A cold mist washed about him and there were hands on him. The ground beneath him was cold metal, it thrummed or vibrated rhythmically, where the hell was he?
“Andy, ANDY!” That voice, he recognised it, it was Mikey. Where they back at Sanc? The last thing that he remembered was trying to climb from an upturned AMS and the ground starting to break up around him.
“Mikey, I can’t see. Where are we? What the hell is going on?”
“Relax, the spawn sickness will clear shortly, the blindness is in your mind, not your eyes,” Mikey patted his friend on the shoulder, “Staceh was the same, so were most of the rest of the guys.”
“Mikey, where are we?”
Someone else was standing beside him, even with his blurred vision Painted could recognise General Staceh, “We don’t know yet, not any base I’ve seen before. It’s a well equipped spawn room anyway, twelve tubes, six equipment terminals, two cert terminals and two implant chambers. And it’s definitely VS.”
Behind them the tubes hummed to life as the next batch of reborn were spawned, on this side Shinya; MrSubliminal; Enrico; Chutney; Shrikeh; and Macarria popped out.
Far down the room a pair of double doors slid open to allow HoaX and Vastian to enter the room, they were in full dress uniform but something about them seemed different. It took Staceh a second to realise that their uniforms bore the winged ‘Heralds’ emblem as opposed to the halo’d ‘Arms of Evolution’ badge.
“Guys, what’s the score? And more importantly, where the hell are we?”
“Concordia, I think,” Vastian responded, “our luck has held out it seems.”
“What do you mean, Vast?”
“Well,” HoaX responded, and pushing a couple of buttons on a wall panel resulted in blast shields across the windows to open with a heavy rumble, “we should be dead.”
Beyond the glass lay a starfield with an expanding cloud of dust and debris, in its centre a broken and cracked moon drifted a lonely course through the field, what remained of it’s former homeworld now fell in great lumps to crater and scar the wanderer.
“The Bending couldn’t complete without the missing Geowarp crystal, Auraxis became unstable and the warp energies blew her apart.”
Staceh felt a case of déjà vu, Vast had told him that before hadn’t he… was it Vast?
This isn’t the end, it’s just the beginning of another story.
It wasn’t just luck that they were still alive, someone or something had manipulated events in their favour, but to what end?
A klaxon chimed softly from the ether, “Emergency transmission detected, source undetermined.”
“Follow me to the bridge guys,” HoaX clipped as he turned on his heel, “I’ll try to bring you up to speed on these babies.”
They entered a corridor coloured in beige and purple, every now and then various interface panels were set into the walls, at present each displayed only the Heralds of Evolution emblem and the words ‘Vanu Sovereignty Space Command’.
As they strode after HoaX Staceh cocked his head to Vastian, “These ships, are they, well… finished?”
Vast smiled, “Yeah, they’re completely starworthy. They were running automated space trials when Auraxis blew. All the systems checked out, these ladies are probably the most stable starships in the galaxy.”
“Considering they use technologies of Vanu old and new I should have expected nothing less.”
“Unfortunately,” Vastian added, “after testing the techs were supposed to make them crew worthy. We’ve got none of the luxuries such as food, water or medical supplies, plus we’ll need to recharge the NTU capacitors if we want to use the weapons or manufacturing systems.”
“Great, so we are liable to die of starvation, thirst or infection, so long as we don’t meet a TR fleet within the next few hours.”
They entered the cavernous bridge, a huge holo display showed a rotating image of the star system, two purple blips indicating Concordia and her sister ship Victoria. Of course if they’d looked out the window the Bridge Burners would have seen Victoria in all her glory.
“The NTUs are a minor inconvenience at most,” Vastian said to Staceh as they moved around the holo console, “we can deploy near any gravitational anomaly to recharge, that’s stars, wormholes, black holes, dark matter objects, a universe of possibilities. Hell, even planets can give us a quick boost.”
HoaX nimbly tapped a few glowing buttons on the console and the image zoomed in until the debris of Auraxis and its broken moon dominated the display.
Aven slipped himself down before the communications console and began to work his magic, the system was distinctly modern day Vanu and was incredibly intuitive, his fingers glided over the controls as his years of experience in comms and intelligence gathering came to the fore.
“I’m locking in on the signal, it’s going through the filters now.”
A hiss of static fizzed through the room before a voice cut clearly through the background noise, “-mas of the New Conglomerate command to any survivors of the cataclysm that has shaken the surface of Auraxis. We have safe haven in Drugaskan and offer a banner of truce to all survivors. If anyone out there receives this please get in touch with us. Repeat, this is General Dumas of the New Conglomerate command to all survivors-“
Silence was amongst those assembled on the bridge of Concordia, the New Conglomerate had somehow survived, and in Drugaskan? They looked at the expanding field of debris, as the remnants of the shattered planet and its broken moon. Could one of the caverns have survived in those asteroids?
“Huh,” Latex breathed at last, “now there’s something that we’d never considered before.”
“What?”
“Drugaskan wasn’t an integral part of the warp network,” the major pointed to the scarred moon, “it was a satellite.”
HoaX thought about that, “It’s feasible, the Ancients might have left an alternate way off the world, or maybe it served as some kind of ancient supply depot or shipyard.”
“We don’t know enough about the Vanu’s motives for building Auraxis to guess at it’s purpose,” Staceh interrupted, “our concern at this moment is the NC.”
“You want to mount a rescue?” Painted stared at the holographic starfield, “I’m no fan of the NC but there are better ways for a soldier to die than to starve to death in a cave.”
“Agreed, even if it is the NC they deserve better,” Staceh leant across the holo console and looked about his men, “so, options?”
“There is no direct access to the cavern,” Dekov noted, “unless the NC have discovered how to breathe in vacuum.”
“The teleporter systems on board are the same as the ancient systems in the caverns,” Vastian began, “it shouldn’t be too difficult to lock in on the frequencies for-“
A bright flash beyond the debris field coupled by a blaring of alarms cut the captain short, the field of dust shifted as sand in a storm and washed across the moon in great waves.
“Turn into it,” Vastian yelled to the computer, “slave Victoria and match.”
The computer acknowledged the command and the starships slowly turned as rocks and dust hammered against their shields, it was pandemonium on the bridge as the Vanu officers struggled to keep their footing.
“What the hell is this?” Staceh was forced to yell over the blaring alarms and the throbs of the inertial dampers compensating for each impact.
“Gravity waves,” HoaX yelled in response as he gripped the master console, “the wormhole is reopening!”

No comments: