INSIDE THE CONNING TOWER OF THE DREADNOUGHT, CASSIUS AND NOBLE gathered their officers before their descent. They hovered over a holographic map in the center of the mapping table. Cassius’ eyes focused on every detail. He pointed at a small mound. “That’s interesting. These formations are new.”
Noble leaned in closer then smiled. “The grain. Look. They’ve moved it to the center of the village and piled it against the buildings so we can’t destroy them from the air.” He pointed to different locations. “And there and there. Stacked them as cover to shoot from.”
“Clever,” said Cassius.
“Hmm. And certainly not the plan of a farmer. Seems General Titus has not drunk all of his wits away just yet.”
One of the officers stepped forward. “If I may…”
Noble and Cassius nodded. He pointed to bright red spots on the map. “Look here. Thermal imaging shows clusters of people in the longhouse at the top of the village… no doubt their women and children.”
Noble stared at the bright red cluster with sinister blood lust. “We’ll do what we can to forestall a pitched battle in the village. While we negotiate we’ll dispatch the Krypteian to capture the women and children. Then we will see how motivated they are to fight.”
Cassius nodded. “I will begin preparations.” He turned to the officer on the right. “Dispatch the mechs.”
Five dropships and two flying carriers prepared to land in the village. Two large mechs, beetle-like machines built for battle, rose from the bowels of the Dreadnought on a platform to be attached to the flying carriers. The hangar doors opened. The dropships and the flying carriers flew at speed out of the Dreadnought towards Veldt. When they entered the atmosphere, the dropship carrying the Krypteian Guards landed in the forest just outside the village.
The lead Guard, Cadmus, watched the seven other Krypteia march out of the dropship and stand in formation. He had a mean look, they all did. “I’m under orders to focus on women, children, and the infirm. We want to make sure they are afraid of us enough to stop any rebellion. Don’t slaughter them until I give you the go ahead. The admiral needs them alive… just for a little while.” The guards looked straight ahead, hearing their orders. “Let’s march!”
The four other dropships and two flying carriers zoomed towards the fields just outside the village. The sound of their approach filled the atmosphere and whipped the wind. Only the four dropships landed side by side in the freshly harvested fields facing the river. Birds scattered and small animals raced away. The village remained still. The heavy ramps hissed as they opened and extended across the ground. Within seconds, booted footfalls of seventy-five Imperium soldiers hit the metal with loud thuds. From the first dropship, Noble strode out followed by three masked priests, a scribe, and Noble’s six personal bodyguards.
He made his way towards the stone bridge with Gunnar and Kora walking towards him. Her cloak blew in the breeze and across her now-bare neck. Her feet wanted to freeze when she saw the face she thought she had left on the rocks. The entire village remained silent and unmoving at this critical moment. Admiral Noble had a smirk on his face when his eyes met Kora’s. Kora calmed her shock and continued to walk towards him with determination, every step taking her closer to her fate that was sealed the day she fled.
Gunnar walked behind, allowing her to take the lead. She stopped five feet in front of Noble, still holding his gaze. His lips curled into an arrogant half smile, but his eyes scanned the village behind her. There were no signs of the villagers. Even the uraki were absent. “What’s this? No welcome party? No warm embrace? You know, I’ve still never shared that cup of ale,” he said while he continued to inspect the village. He stopped when he saw a now clean-shaven Gunnar. “But look who is here. The ambitious farmer getting his chance to stand for something.”
Gunnar remained silent. Noble turned his attention back to Kora. “Arthelais. What honestly are you expecting to achieve here?”
She clenched her jaw. “The same thing as the last time we met. I kill you.”
“Yes, and what an honor it was.” Noble lifted his hands to the top of his tunic and began to unbutton it. Kora looked on with curiosity, not knowing what he was doing undressing. When all the buttons were undone, he opened the tunic revealing a thick, puckered scar where she had plunged the femur into his chest. Her eyes focused on the misshapen flesh.
“A scar… from the Scargiver herself.”
She raised her eyes to him. “It’s ugly… Disgusting, really. Just like you. When I kill you again, there will be no coming back.”
Noble scoffed as he buttoned his tunic and shook his head. “Of all places, this is where you choose to make a stand? In doing so ensuring its destruction and yours.” He raised his hand and gave his signal. In unison, the soldiers raised their weapons aimed towards Kora. She remained steadfast and defiant as she took a step closer to Noble.
“I have no fear of the Motherworld and certainly not of you. Tell me. The name… Atticus Noble. You wouldn’t happen to be the son of Commander Dominic Noble?”
Noble was taken aback by this question, the mention of his father. This was his mission and his glory. Not the man he had always been compared to. He had to measure his answer. “What of it? What of him?”
Her face softened with sarcasm and she threw back at him the smugness he liked to give others. “I am coming to understand now how someone as incompetent as yourself was placed in command of a Dreadnought. That is all.”
His eyes narrowed as he seethed hatred. He had few weak spots except for the one she had just pressed. “We shall see who is incompetent when the smoke clears and your village has been reduced to ash in the shadow of The King’s Gaze.”
“Or perhaps when The King’s Gaze lies in smoldering ruin. I will offer you one chance to avoid slaughter. No blood need be spilled here today.”
“You naïve thing. You do realize what the regent Balisarius will give me when I bring you to your knees before him.”
“I know men like you. A seat in the Senate is what you seek, I would imagine. If so, take the grain you need to feed your men on your voyage back to the Motherworld. No more and no less. You leave the villagers unharmed and report to Balisarius that the warriors you sought evaded capture.”
“And we take nothing?”
“You take your lives. Balisarius will be displeased, but he will not kill a Dreadnought admiral. At worst you’ll be reassigned to some remote outpost from where you can begin to work your way up the ladder. Sooner or later you will still have your seat in the Senate. Not tomorrow, perhaps not ten seasons from now, but that day will come. Your bloodline ensures it. This is your choice. Disgrace and relegation, or your head cleaved from your shoulders, your ship serving as your tomb. Your families and all of the Motherworld to know that you were slaughtered by peasants of the Veldt.”
Noble didn’t react to her words. His icy stare remained fixed on her until he shifted his eyes to her muddy shoes, her cloak, the steel in her eyes and her shorn hair. For a moment Kora wondered if her words had penetrated his ego.
“You think you’ve given me a choice.” His face contorted to reveal his monstrous nature and loathing. “You haven’t. I have been tasked with bringing honor to the Motherworld and I intend to see to that task to the end. What amuses me most is that you think you have any power to negotiate. You think I don’t know that you’re hiding your women and children? Even as you stand here talking to me, your plan is already failing.”
Kora remained stoic as she held her ground. Noble took a step closer. Now he would push her weak spot until she caved or bled. “Unless, perhaps, a different bargain could be struck. We take what you offered, the grain for our journey. We do as you ask, leaving the villagers with their lives… The cost of these concessions would be you.”
Kora still didn’t flinch, but Noble grinned, seeing she was thinking about what he had just said. “Yes, it is true that every member of your rebellious band would be greatly treasured by the Imperium. Yet there is no denying that the one most sought by our honorable regent is Arthelais herself. Therein lies your choice. Surrender yourself to me and your friends will be permitted to live. If you refuse, those this village holds most dear, the children and elderly at present sheltered in the longhouse, will be slaughtered by the men on their way to them now. Has enough blood not been spilled in that beautiful building? Are you truly prepared for this to continue on in your name?”
Kora looked back at Gunnar. She could see the worry in his eyes. The villager near the bell in front of the longhouse held the hammer, ready to strike when she gave the order to do so. Her heart raced, but she knew what she must do. She motioned for the villager to lower the hammer. He paused then placed it on the ground. Kora turned back to Noble. He looked at her he as if he just claimed complete victory. “I thought not. Now say your goodbyes. Your father awaits, Arthelais.”
Kora turned and walked towards Gunnar. She wrapped her arms around him. “What are you doing?” he pleaded in a hushed tone, not understanding what was happening as he hadn’t heard the conversation with Noble. She shook her head. “I’m sorry. I cannot let this place die for me.”
He tried to catch her gaze and touched her hand. “Kora, he’s lying to you. I know you know this.”
She met his gaze, holding back tears before embracing him tightly. “I know what I’m doing. Please let me go.”
He held her. “I can’t.” His voice cracked as he said this in her ear. With one hand he pulled her gun from her holster and twisted his body away from her, straight towards the bell. He pulled the trigger. The shot, with perfect aim, sent the loud noise to signal for the battle to begin. The ring echoed through the silent village and valley. Noble’s eyes grew large as his grin turned to a sneer. The soldiers behind him looked at each other in confusion. A layer of silence descended before chaos ensued. The burlap and dirt cover over the trench next to Noble’s dropship was tossed to the side.
A villager stood poised to blast the ship with an anti-armor bazooka on his shoulder. Before the soldiers could stop him, he fired the weapon. The trench filled with the weapon’s discharged smoke. Noble dove to the ground as his ship exploded upon impact, shrapnel shooting in all directions. He looked at the ground and made a fist. The explosion seemed to shake the village and made his head and ears throb. The shouting of his soldiers sounded like a distant echo from the ringing in his ears. He looked up to see the smoke clearing. However, the black vapor of his anger took hold of him. From his vantage point he could see the villager with the bazooka duck back into the trench.
Noble jumped to his feet, ignoring the bullets above his head and the fighting around him. He refused to be bested by peasants or a rogue assassin. With speed he leapt into the trench and pulled out his pistol. Without hesitation he unloaded one shot point blank into the head of each villager he found crowded in the trench. He looked at the body of one of them and the river of blood seeping from the wound in his forehead. His eyes caught a jagged-edged blade attached to the belt of the villager. He took it into his hands then turned towards the darkness of the trench. There had to be more of them.
Noble began to stomp down the narrow row. He could smell the wet soil. The scent flared his anger because this land and everything on it should be his for the taking without question. In front of him were two young farmers, reloading their weapons with nervous glances. Engrossed in their tasks, they didn’t notice him stalking them from the dark recesses of the trench. It was obvious they were not seasoned soldiers, the way they fumbled with the weapons. Noble gripped the blade tighter.
“Reload!” shouted the taller farmer.
“You’re all set, go!” said the other.
Before they could shoot, Noble rushed towards them. He plunged the blade into the side of the farmer with the rifle then pulled the blade out to stab him in the neck. The man dropped his weapon and slumped down dead. With his free hand, he smacked the other farmer across the face, breaking his nose. As the farmer cried out in pain and stumbled against the wall, Noble stabbed him in the belly with relentless fury. Blood sprayed across the trench.
“Pathetic,” he spat under his breath. He stepped over their bodies with the intention to find as many villagers in hiding as possible before they could do more damage. Just ahead, a light illuminated the end of the trench. That one… he thought. It was the farmer with the bazooka who blew up his dropship. Noble licked his lips and moved towards the unsuspecting man, who had his back to Noble. His movements were swift and steps long to kill him before he had a chance to get another shot above ground. This was a battle he refused to lose. That bitch Kora had to be taught a lesson. He relished the idea of seeing her face as she looked at the dead bodies of these inconsequential villagers she wanted to save so badly.
He wanted her to live through that before being executed. The pain and horror she would experience in that moment before death excited him. The excitement he felt in that moment was so intense that for a split second he thought of the Twins… the pleasure. How he would enjoy watching her be tortured on her knees. His steps quickened as the farmer moved to lift the bazooka and strike again. Noble thrust the blade into the back of his neck and the left side of his lower back. The bazooka slipped out of his hands before his body fell to the ground like rotten fruit from a tree.
Noble’s lips curled to a smile. He could hear the battle waging above his head. Noble looked above the edge of the trench. Imperial soldiers continued to fire upon any villager in sight before jumping into trenches like the one he stood in. Now was his moment to run for his dropship.
“Go, Den! Now!” he heard an out-of-sight voice shout above the firefight. A large man he remembered from his first time here scrambled out of the trench. His massive body lurched forward with a burlap sack across one shoulder. He pulled out a grenade belt, letting the sack fall. His muscular arm flexed as it swung the belt towards the open bay doors of the dropship rising from the ground. Den began to sprint away. It didn’t take long for the dropship to explode overhead. Den was thrown to the ground. Noble ducked into the trench to avoid the blast wave as it rumbled towards him. He stared at the dead bodies again and took a deep breath before climbing out of the trench and running for cover.
Den spotted the wicked admiral running towards a dropship and pushed himself off the ground to chase Noble across the field before he could escape. Den pumped his arms hard as he ran to catch up to Noble, wincing at the pain from his fall. The dropship ramp was within sight as Noble ran towards the open doors. With all his bulk and strength, Den leapt onto the ramp and tackled Noble. They crashed into the metal grating as the engines revved and roared to lift off. The wind whipped around the grappling men as they continued to rise off the ground with the bay doors still open. Den reached for his blade attached to his belt. His strength was matched by Noble, who held his own weapon still stained with the blood of the farmers. Despite being significantly larger than Noble, Den struggled with the newly modified admiral. His eyes searched for a weakness in the man. Noble grinned and shouted over the din of the engines. “You can’t win this one without losing your life.”
“If I don’t kill you, Kora will. I know this. You are still just a man at the end of the day.” Den took a swipe at Noble, catching him across the chest. Noble looked down at the torn cloth then charged towards Den with his blade out. The tip caught Den on his right arm and left side of his neck as Noble swung wildly but skillfully. Den matched his swings with his long reach. One blow slicing across Noble’s right thigh. Noble winced. Den used that moment of weakness to land a punch across his jaw, knocking Noble back towards the deck of the dropship.
Den was poised to go for the kill when Noble kicked him with the heel of his boot on the side of his knee. Den’s knee buckled. Ready to return Den’s favors, Noble cut Den’s wrist and the forearm of the hand that held his blade. Den dropped the blade but didn’t miss the incoming swipe towards his face. Den used his bare hands to wrap around Noble’s neck. His eyes were wild as he squeezed to choke out the life of the man who wanted to destroy his home. Full of fury and focus, Den didn’t see Noble’s spiderlike fingers frantically clawing towards one of the fallen blades.
Den continued to squeeze, ignoring the pain of his wound, the pain of his fall. None of it mattered. The veins bulged from Den’s neck, his face almost purple with rage, then his grip eased. He looked down at the blade thrust into his neck. His eyes went distant and lips opened, but before anything could escape, Noble slapped his hand across his mouth and pushed him backwards. Den remained still.
“I guess you will never know what happens to Kora. But I can’t wait until she sees your carcass in the fields where it belongs.”
Noble kicked Den’s body until it tumbled off the ramp, twenty feet above the fields. He took a moment to look at the unmoving body and smiled. Den died better than most: he should thank Noble for that. Soldiers were overrunning the villagers trying to fight back. There would be nothing left of them at that rate. Noble was pleased with what he saw and rushed onto the main deck of the dropship to set a course for the Dreadnought. Next to him were two dropships, one of which smoked from a hit, but through a miracle of engineering was managing to make it back to the Dreadnought for repairs. It was a shame he couldn’t get Arthelais. She would still be dead if they obliterated the village from space. That would have to be enough.
* * *
Kora and Gunnar jumped into the cold river when the first dropship, the one closest to them, exploded. She hadn’t anticipated that. She was more than ready to give herself up. They found cover beneath the stone bridge. Kora blinked and shook her head with the sound of the explosion still ringing in her head.
“Are you alright?” Gunnar shouted over the sounds of ensuing battle.
She nodded as she wiped water from her face. “The granary!”
They trudged towards the bank farther down the river with bullets whizzing above their heads. With the way clear, they climbed out, keeping out of sight, and they ran crouched towards the back of the granary. There was a uraki tied and waiting. This was for Kora to reach her dropship according to the original plan. Gunnar untied the uraki and jumped on its back.
Kora paused, dripping wet and looking up at him. “Why did you stop me? He said he would have let you live.”
Gunnar shook his head as he breathed hard. Water and sweat dripped on the uraki’s neck. There was heat in his eyes, his teeth bared. “You know he would say anything to have you surrender without a fight. But his words are worthless. You’re part of us now, part of me. And we won’t let you sacrifice yourself to a lie. I won’t.”
Gunnar extended his hand as small explosions hit the ground near them. Kora didn’t move or blink with the fight creeping closer to them. He continued to look her in the eyes. Kora could see—feel—the love he possessed for her. It was more frightening than the battle around them, but not having him in her life was scarier. She knew that. He continued to hold his hand out to her.
“Now let’s go. We gotta get you up to that ship. You’re our only chance.”
Kora took his hand for him to lift her up onto the uraki. She mounted the beast behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist. As he moved the uraki into a gallop towards the hidden dropship, she rested her cheek against his back. She closed her eyes, hearing his heartbeat and feeling his breath. His body, his warmth made her feel safe despite the possibility of death with the horror of war on their doorstep. This was all she wanted. And if she died in that moment, with him beside her, then it was truly a life worth living after all her misdeeds and misjudgment.
They were moving fast when another explosion caused the uraki to reel. Gunnar’s face was overcome with fear. Kora looked on. “It’s a dropship. Good. We need to hurry and take advantage of this. Go!”
Gunnar heeled the uraki to move faster towards the waterfall and their own dropship. He didn’t like the scene from the fields. He needed to be with his people on the ground.
* * *
Imperium soldiers began to advance on the interior of the village. They exchanged gunfire with the villagers, who relentlessly defended their positions from the ground and the trenches. The villagers were outnumbered as the soldiers stomped across the bridge like a virulent flesh-eating plague destroying soft tissue. They slowed down when they reached the village itself. All was quiet as they entered the courtyard and scanned their surroundings in confusion.
The soldiers looked in all directions, trying to search for any clues as to why they seemed to be alone. The only sound was that of the fight in the fields in the distance and their breaths. With the moment of pause, the soldiers were taken by surprise when the volley of shots fired at them from all fronts. They crouched for cover, automatically and indiscriminately returning fire.
“There!” The commander pointed beyond the village bell towards a large barricade made from odds and ends. Only the silhouettes of the makeshift fighters could be seen. Tables, planks of wood, heaped sacks of grain appeared to be put together in haste. The commander sneered at the sight. “These idiots really think this will work. How pathetic. We go now! Spare no one!” he shouted.
The soldiers moved in unison, returning the gunfire. Splinters of wood and plumes of grain shot into the air as the battle intensified. A villager ran from behind the barricade towards cover. The soldiers watched the man scramble. “Look at the rat. Got ’em on the fucking run!” said one of them.
The commander rushed towards the barricade with his gun drawn and climbed over the deflating sacks of grain. At the top he stopped. His eyes wide as he scanned the ground. “The fuck…?” There were no villagers there, only simple scarecrows standing at attention. He grumbled, his face turning sour with acrimony as he turned to warn his soldiers of the trap.
Before he could open his mouth, a bullet hit him square in the face, knocking him backwards with a spray of blood. The soldiers moved in confusion without the certainty of their leader telling them what to do. A shower of bullets began to hit them from seen and unseen spaces.
“Fire back!” shouted one of the soldiers, trying to reorganize their regiment.
Bodies fell like swatted flies as a machine gun on the top of one of the tallest buildings closest to the center pounded the trapped soldiers with fire. As the soldiers begin to thin, more villagers jumped from their hiding spaces for the attack. Milius had perched themself in an attic of a building. They waited with sniper patience for soldiers to come into their crosshairs before pulling the trigger. Every aim resulted in more dead Imperium soldiers.
Titus ran out of the granary with his own group of villagers. They appeared less than ready compared to the heavily armored soldiers, yet he led them with pride. With his weapon raised, he shouted, “The time has come, for all that you love, for your home… protect each other and show them no mercy!”
His band of fighters roared with cheers and shouts as they charged towards the fight. Tarak emerged from the stables with twenty villagers armed only with scythes and farm equipment for weapons. He smiled seeing his brother in arms and shouted, “Can’t let Titus and your brothers do all the work! Are you ready?”
The farmers following him shouted back with blades in the air, “To fight and die!”
“Let’s leave the dying to your enemy. Follow me!” he shouted before charging towards the battle. The two groups began to merge as they caught a swarm of soldiers. Both Titus and Tarak met their opponents head on with blows and blades. Titus snatched a weapon from a soldier as he thrust a blade into his heart. Tarak wrangled a gun from a soldier, knocking him to the ground. The soldier pulled out a concealed weapon and aimed it towards Tarak. Tarak got his shots in before the soldier. With their immediate enemies dead, Titus nudged Tarak. Both men exchanged grins then ran farther into the heat of battle together.
Kora and Gunnar moved through the veil of water and into the cave. The sound of the waterfall filled the space, drowning out the fighting. They dismounted from the uraki. Gunnar led the uraki out the opposite side then followed Kora into the dropship. Kora whipped off her cloak. Gunnar looked at the bloody Imperium uniform she began to put on, then her newly shorn hair. “You look like one of them.”
She looked down at the stained fabric. “I was. Not anymore. Now they bleed.”
Gunnar pulled out an Imperium jacket from the saddlebag he’d brought. He looked at it with disgust before putting it on. He shrugged and pulled at the chest to adjust the fit. She glanced at him while preparing the ship as she sat at the control panel.
He nodded. “You sure this thing can fly?”
She cocked her head towards the seat next to her. “Hold on.”
Gunnar scrambled for his seat whilst she pushed the throttle forward. The ship jolted to life then blasted through the waterfall.
“There,” said Gunnar as he pointed towards the gap in the valley where the village lay. She guided the ship low across the ridgeline and hovered out of sight from the other dropships ascending towards The King’s Gaze. One of them smoked as it trailed behind the others.
“What’s next?” he asked.
“We drop into formation and hope they just take us in. When I give the signal, pull the pin and start the smoke.”
Gunnar nodded and reached for the saddlebag. “I have the animal blood in the skin. We should dress in it.” He splashed his hands and wiped them on her uniform over the previous stains. Kora glanced towards him before focusing on the controls again. The dropship eased into formation.
“My turn.” She turned to him and took the skin. She soaked her hands with blood and saturated his uniform. Her fingers pressed more blood into the holes in the fabric. Gunnar watched her every move as she glanced up at him. With what was left on her fingers, she flicked on his face. They faced each other in uncertainty. Kora pulled him close and kissed him hard, blood smears on her own skin. She pulled away. “Blow the smoke.”
Gunnar grabbed a smoke grenade from the saddle bag and rushed to the back of the ship. He pulled the pin then tossed it into a hatch. Gunnar sat next to Kora. They both watched for signs of smoke. When light plumes of smoke began to grow and cross the bridge window, they looked at each other.
“Hope the rest of it goes this smoothly,” said Gunnar, breaking the tension as they neared the enemy. The other ships continued to cruise towards The King’s Gaze. More smoke billowed from their ship.
“Looks like we have to go rogue here… look.” Kora pointed to the damaged ships veering away from the others. The others included Noble. “We keep going. I’ll handle this.”
Kora guided the dropship into the docking bay, filling it with smoke. A voice screamed into the bridge. “That ship has taken damage!”
Kora flipped on her comms link. “Control, I have casualties and my controls are not responding… I’m surrendering control.”
The docking officer sounded less perturbed. “We’ve got you, soldier. We’re going to put you down into the main hangar for maintenance and medical extraction.”
Kora flipped off the comms link. Gunnar whispered, “What now?”
“We wait and listen.”
Gunnar took in what he could see from the cockpit. His eyes watched in horror at the power the Imperium possessed just from the air. “My god,” he said to himself. Their ship moved deeper into the Dreadnought. It jerked when mechanical arms grabbed hold of it, and guided it closer. A coupling membrane extended towards the hatch and sealed around it. They continued to watch from the cockpit. Gunnar touched her arm and flicked his head towards the ship next to them. Noble marched down a ramp.
“Send the second wave now!” he shouted.
Kora and Gunnar looked at each other with fear for the village in their eyes. “We have to do this, no matter the cost,” said Gunnar.
* * *
Dropships descended and landed on the upturned fields near the village. Ships and boots decimated the pristine land. Fresh soldiers piled out and prepared for another assault. On the other side of the river, the bulk of the remaining Imperium soldiers fought behind the burnt-out shell of an exploded dropship. They continued to fight hard against the villagers who gave them relentless hell. They all paused for a moment when the ground beneath their feet quaked as a gigantic beetle-like mech rose to four legs and stomped from the field towards the village.
The fresh Imperium soldiers used its substantial body for cover as they made their way to the heat of the battle and countered the villagers in the trenches. As the mech passed through the field, impervious to flying bullets and anything else thrown at it, Imperium soldiers jumped into the trenches with orders to kill on sight. Every villager charged with blind courage, desperate to salvage their home. They were overrun. There were more soldiers than village fighters and their pitchforks were no match for the sophisticated weapons of the Imperium that killed in an instant.
With robotic precision the Imperium soldiers overtook the trenches, soaking the soil in spilled blood. A young villager with only small hairs just above his lip groaned as he raised his head out of the dirt. Bloody dirt caked the side of his face and ear. Blood trickled from his nose. Soldiers charged past him, more occupied with the others fighting them. He crawled arm over arm, dragging his body and moaning with his face turning red from the exertion. Blood seeped from his side. He moved forward until he scratched at the dirt wall. When he hit the hidden panel, he tossed it to the side. This would be the end of him, but he had known this was a possibility. This would be a good death. Inside the panel was an explosive charge.
His hand trembled as he reached for it. With his hand barely touching the explosive, he closed his eyes and squeezed. Fire swelled and screams rang out through the trench like a blazing serpent as bombs along the dirt walls exploded. Imperial soldiers were incinerated and torn to shreds. Their blood became a smoky vapor settling over the fields. Yet still more soldiers stormed forward with orders to create carnage.
Titus and Tarak held their ground near the courtyard at the base of the bridge, fighting off the Imperial soldiers storming in from the fields. The two men gave each other cover while cutting down the ferocious tide from entering the village. They glanced up from the fight at a rumbling below their feet. The two stationary mechs rose to their feet and moved forward. The machine gun that cut the soldiers down in the trap turned to the mech. The hailstorm of bullets ricocheted against its thick metal exterior. It belched a single missile that destroyed the building. Debris and dust was hurled across the village. Soldiers and villagers on the ground ducked for cover as smoke filled the atmosphere with a heated haze that caused them to cough.
In the distance, Milius could see the building collapse to rubble. They shot at the mech until there was no ammunition left. Milius threw the weapon aside without looking at it. The mech reared its head towards the village bell. Milius shook their head in horror then ran into the granary. They searched the portion of the floor built over the river. The sound of rushing water was just behind a small trapdoor. Milius threw open the hatch and jumped into the river. The iciness gripped their body, but invigorated their resolve as it washed away the sweat and grime of battle. Milius swam hard against the current as bullets flew over their head. They ignored everything except the mech. The machine charged again and fired. The village bell that had rang for centuries was obliterated in seconds.
Milius scrambled, out of breath, up the bank of the river. They removed a blade from their sodden trousers upon seeing an Imperial soldier not far away. They ran across the field to catch the soldier by surprise. Milius yanked back the soldier’s neck, slit his throat, then let loose a primal scream as the body fell to the ground, but a familiar rumbling caused them to look back. Another mech was on the move.
They looked around for cover, but all that was left of the field was ditches and craters. Milius jumped into one and waited while peering out. It advanced towards the bridge where Titus and Tarak fought with fury against the mounting odds. Imperial soldiers and village fighters resorted to hand-to-hand combat. Villagers wielded their sharpened scythes in bloody rage against the invaders.
The stones on the bridge were bathed in blood. Milius looked on, ready to join the fray when the machine was out of the way. As the mech passed, its giant steps shifted the ground. A discarded rocket launcher rolled out of the dust. Milius crawled towards the weapon and grabbed it as quickly as possible. They kneeled on one knee, took aim, then squeezed the trigger. “You can fuck right off, motherfucker.”
The rocket whizzed through the air and hit the mech in the center of its body. The top of the machine exploded as its legs wobbled then buckled to the ground. Milius watched the smoking heap then ran towards the fight.
* * *
Kora and Gunnar took their staged positions in the cockpit. Five armed medics rushed in and placed a slumped-over Kora onto a gurney then lifted Gunnar up from the floor and placed him on a gurney, beside her. The lead medic punched in the medical bay on the side of the hovering gurney. They glided through the belly of The King’s Gaze while their vitals were scanned for injuries. Large double elevator doors opened at the end of the hallway. The gurneys carrying Gunnar and Kora floated in.
The head medic had a puzzled look on his face as he glanced at the four other soldiers. “This is odd. I can’t find a wound. How about that one? They stable?”
The other medic looked at the results. “Hmm. Pulse is low… but I don’t…”
Kora’s eyes snapped open. She grabbed the medic’s face with both hands and headbutted him hard. He reeled back and fell to the ground. Before the others could react, she drew her weapon and shot all four of them. She turned from the bodies to the elevator controls. She pounded the panel, bringing it to a stop. The fallen medic held his nose and reached for his weapon, eyes straight on Kora. Gunnar jumped off the gurney, stomped on the hand of the medic, and then put a boot in his face. The medic didn’t move again.
Kora looked back to Gunnar. “Give me your satchel charges.”
Gunnar took off the charges stored in pouches slung across his chest and handed them to Kora. She secured them across her body then looked back at Gunnar. “Try and make your way back to the hangar. Find us a ship. We won’t have long to get off this thing before it blows.”
She turned to leave. Gunnar grabbed her arm and pulled her close despite being surrounded by death. “My turn.” He kissed her with a passion that neither would ever forget. Their lips and tongues memorized each other’s taste. The desire they possessed. His hands held her waist tightly. An alarm in the distance broke their moment, reminding them both they were on enemy turf and not lost in a field on the cusp of making love all night. He gazed into her eyes. “I’ll be waiting.”
She nodded and opened the elevator doors. She whipped around to look at Gunnar one last time but the doors had already closed. She faced an empty hallway and began to navigate through the maze of the Dreadnought. She found herself near the engine room when she heard approaching voices and footfalls. The crew spoke in hushed tones and walked quickly. She ducked into a dark, short hallway to avoid them.
When they were out of sight, she stepped back out to the hallway and towards the engine room. She kept her head down as five engine crews worked, deep in concentration. They monitored The King’s Gaze and its energy levels. The room was washed in a light glow from the reactor monitors. She climbed a metal ladder that led to a catwalk above a few soldiers shoveling organic matter into two rows of six hot furnaces. She watched her steps as she peered below. The closer to the reactor, the brighter the light.
She squinted as she approached. At the far end of the catwalk was the heart, the power source of the Dreadnought. There stood the large statue in the shape of a bound humanoid on her knees. The Kali. Thick clear tubes emitting a white light snaked from its head. Energy surged from the statue directly into the walls. None of the workers noticed Kora as she slipped past in silence. She knew exactly where she needed to go to place the charges.
When close enough, Kora took out each explosive charge from the pouches slung across her body. They would activate once attached to the Kali, their timers set for seven minutes. The Kali’s eyes snapped open when the charges were placed on her forehead. Kora stared back at her, reminded of the first time she had looked upon one. She sensed its sadness and pain. Feelings she knew all too well. But as a child, there was nothing she could do about it. Kora touched the face of the Kali and closed her eyes.
In her mind she could hear and feel her. The energy made her entire body tingle, and her mind went to a place as distant as dreams. She envisioned the Kali being set free at long last and rising from the floor with her bounds falling away. Her standing body could barely be contained in the room.
A voice that was not her own spoke in a calm and soothing tone. “It’s all right, Kora. I know you don’t want to kill me. But I also know it’s the only way. So like Issa, I too forgive you. Because one day you will wake my sisters and their wrath will be my vengeance.”
Kora opened her eyes and could see the Kali still looking at her. A single tear fell from the Kali’s large open eye. When she turned to move, a voice shouted from the direction of the ladder. “You! You there… What are you…?”
Kora turned to see one of the crew standing at the end of the catwalk. He paused at her blood-spattered face and uniform. Her gaze filled with intention and hate. He began to walk towards her and draw his weapon when she rushed him. She kicked him between the legs then landed a blow across his face. As he reeled back, she unholstered her weapon and aimed. The clean shot caused his limp body to fall to the floor below. The soldiers working below looked up. Their eyes focused on Kora, who calculated her next moves.
Seven minutes, she thought to herself before jumping down. When she landed on her feet, she pulled out her gun and aimed it at the crew members ready to attack. One tried to grab the satchel and choke her with the strap. She swung her body and elbowed him in the torso. When his grip slackened, she continued to twirl towards him and shot him in the neck. The commanding officer watched in disbelief as she exchanged punches with a second crew member. He looked at the statue then back at Kora before running to the main comms. He slammed his hand against the button. “Intruder alert! Repeat, intruder!”
Kora ignored the loud intercom and kicked one of the crew members who swung a pipe at her. She was nimble, avoiding his blows while waiting to get a clean shot. He raised the pipe and charged. She aimed and hit him directly through the chest three times. He fell with the pipe clattering to the ground.
Another voice shouted over the intercom in the engine room. “This is the communications officer. Sending backup. What is the nature and numbers of the intruders?”
He looked back and stammered as Kora stood over the final crew member with her boot on his chest as she unloaded one shot through his skull. “It’s just one woman! Just one wom—”
Kora raised her gun and pulled the trigger. He fell on the controls with a gaping hole through the center of his forehead. Blood saturated the screen. She holstered her gun and ran to the exit. There was no time to spare before the explosives detonated.
* * *
The communications officer on the main bridge attempted to reach the engine room again. There was only silence. Noble walked over to the seated officer and Cassius followed. “What was that?” asked Noble.
The comms officer looked confused as he continued to fiddle with the controls. “There is a situation in the engine room. He said a woman has infiltrated the ship.”
Noble’s eyes narrowed as if he could see exactly who it was and what she had done. “Arthelais is aboard the ship.”
Cassius looked to Noble. “Sir… That’s impossible.”
His thin lips curled to a wicked smile. “No, it’s her. Of course it’s her. She’s come to us. Alert all sectors. I want her captured at once.”
Cassius gave Noble a nod. As he began to turn to fulfill his orders, Noble placed a hand on his shoulder. “And now, Cassius, you may target the village.”
Cassius looked into Noble’s black eyes. They possessed nothing behind them. He would kill anyone that stood in the way of this new mission of capturing his target. Noble had the scent of blood in his nose and the taste of it in his mouth. “Sir, the grain.”
Noble gave him an incredulous look and leaned closer to Cassius’ ear. “The Scargiver has come to us. We have no more need for the village. I would rather the men starve than risk exposing ourselves to another one of Titus’ tricks.”
Noble pulled back again with that sinister smile. Cassius could still feel his stale breath, a cold deathly wind in his ear. He had to say something because even this seemed a step too far for a single reward that would only benefit Noble. “But we have men on the ground.”
Noble continued to stare at him with an evil glare. “A few less mouths to feed…”
Cassius and Noble held each other’s gaze. “Now destroy it!” shouted Noble. Cassius knew this was the end of something. His dignity, perhaps his life. But he had his orders first. And he didn’t want to die. Not yet. “You heard the admiral. Give the order!”
The Dreadnought officer at weapons control began her preparations. “Charge the cannons.”
Cassius remained still whilst Noble walked away. He wondered how nothing haunted that man, because he knew he would have to live with the fact that he had sacrificed his own men, their lives, for his own and Noble’s personal agenda. His sick climb to licking the regent’s boots. Cassius would watch the destruction. He deserved that punishment.
* * *
Gunnar exited an elevator, rushing back to the hangar—to the best of his memory, anyway. Three officers approached at the end of the corridor. He didn’t want a confrontation— not now they had made it this far. And there was no time to spare for a fight. He ducked into a deep doorway, hoping they wouldn’t notice him. His heartbeat pounded in his ears as he tried to calm his breathing. He listened for their steps to come and hopefully go. But he heard much more.
“Hold. The second wave has been ordered to stand down. The admiral has decided to vaporize the village with our big guns here on The King’s Gaze,” said one of the officers.
“Really? I guess the rumors of taking the fugitives alive were just that.”
Gunnar watched them walk away feeling an intense mixture of panic and fear at the world unraveling before his eyes. They were ready to fight Imperium soldiers to the last. They couldn’t fight the cannons of a Dreadnought. Everyone and everything he knew, gone in seconds. He had to tell Kora. He peeked around the corner to see if anyone else approached. No one. He pulled out his comms. Panic began to grip his entire body. There would be no hiding it. “Kora! Kora! Noble is turning the guns towards the surface. He doesn’t give a shit about the grain. He wants the village destroyed.”
There was a pause. “The charges are set. I have about four and a half minutes.”
“For what?”
“Just have the ship ready.”
Gunnar peeked out of his hiding spot again to make sure it was clear. Four and half minutes wasn’t a long time. He prayed for a miracle.