by Isaac Stone
His plan was to pile up enough loot and move it out once the fighting was over. Beyond the city were places he could sell it, buy some decent clothes and live the life he wanted. It didn’t make a difference to him who was in charge at the top; one group of people that pushed him around was the same as the next.
He might have managed to stash his gains and leave the city if he hadn’t walked into a Synarchist patrol a week into the invasion. He’d enjoyed a good day and was pushing his latest haul down the street in a cart he’d found when he turned the corner. He found three men with guns who stared at him. These weren’t the local cops. He would have recognized the uniforms. Directly in front of him were veterans of the Synarchy hordes.
“So what do you think, boys?” one of them said. “Looks like we found a looter. You know what the standard order is on looters. Who won the last draw?”
“It was me,” a man with a scar across his face sneered and brought up his rifle. “I bet my third of his haul I’ll drop him in one shot.”
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” a voice cried behind them. Out of nowhere a huge man in ornate robes appeared. “We need all the recruits we can get!”
And this was how he came to join the Synarchists.
The trooper pulled himself out of the pile and walked over to where he heard a fight in progress. Somehow, he managed to avoid the notice of the marines as he walked up to the door. Inside he saw the forms of the proconsul and a Jacobite knight posed to strike each other with knives. This was his chance; he’d shoot the knight and be rewarded by the proconsul. Perhaps get his loot back. It shouldn’t be too hard to kill that man in the black armor.
But he failed to notice the young woman with a pistol who appeared next to him.
The trooper turned and faced her. This was the last thing he saw before she sent him to the ground with one precise punch to the side of his skull. He lay still on the floor and didn’t move.
Kushmanda looked at the two titans who were about to go at it again. She thought about her status for a few seconds. It was possible at this range to get one of them, but the other would hear the sound and attack her. One-on-one, not good odds against the proconsul or the Jacobite knight. As far as she could see it, this was a draw. Only one way to resolve it.
She aimed her pistol at the window next to them and shot it out with one bullet.
The knight and proconsul turned to look at her. They froze and looked back at each other. She could sense a “we’ll finish this later” thought drift between them. The two broke in different directions. Basepholon ran past Kushmanda and pushed her aside. He vanished down the stairs to the main floor. She heard his boots trample on his way out the door.
Sir Nagashi snarled and vanished out the window. With his abilities, he would have no issue scaling the building to the ground level.
Both combatants were gone. For now.
Kushmanda turned to face the forms of the marines who emerged from behind the barricades they’d hastily assembled in the atrium. She could see Commander Sura approach her with the gun leveled. Behind Sura came her second with more marines, each with guns trained on her.
She remained calm.
“You let them get away!” Sura finally yelled at her. She walked up to Kushmanda and pointed her pistol in Kushmanda’s face.
“Tripada, take her gun,” she ordered her second. Kushmanda handed him the pistol when he walked up to her.
“Why did you let them escape?” the commander asked her. “They were right in front of you and you had the drop on them.”
“I could have killed one, but not the other,” she explained. “If either one survived he could have killed me. I didn’t like the odds of survival.”
“I still don’t trust you,” Sura told her. “But I can’t argue with your logic. I would have done the same thing. Tripada, how many did we lose?”
“Not as bad as I thought,” he called back to her looking over the bodies. “Two of ours down on the main floor. Two more here in the atrium. No make that three, we’ve lost Shamsana. Such a shame, I liked her a lot.”
“No time for sentiments,” Sura responded. “You can burn some incense for her later.”
She turned back to Kushmanda and kept her gun on her. After a few minutes, Commander Sura lowered her gun and slid it into the holster on her thigh. She continued to glare at her.
“There is something very wrong with you,” she spoke. “You didn’t kill any of us when you had the opportunity. You punched out that trooper- someone see if he’s still alive, she hit him pretty hard. I’m going to take a chance and let you stay around with us. One wrong move to anyone under my command and I’ll shoot you on the spot.”
“You don’t have to worry, commander,” Kushmanda told her. She looked tired.
Sura turned around and ran her eyes over the bodies sprawled on the floor. “Shardhula, get a count of how many are here, we need to know. One of you others help him out and see if there are any weapons on them we can use. Tripada, go find Krodha and scout outside to see if there are any other buildings we can move our post to. I need a volunteer to go upstairs and let those refugees know we have to move. That proconsul knows we’re here and he’ll be back. The next time he’ll bring along some better troops.
“Krodha’s dead,” It was the marine who stood at the door to the office where Kushmanda was kept prisoner while she recovered.
Sura spun around to her Kushmanda, her hand back on her pistol. “Did you kill him?” she demanded. The younger woman could see the anger in her eyes.
“No, I did not,” Kushmanda responded. “That man in the dark armor killed Krodha. He sprang up from behind and cut his throat.”
“And he let you live? That doesn’t make any sense. Sounds like you were working with him.” The guns started to rise up again.
“I don’t know why he let me live. Krodha had his gun out and in my face. Just like you did! He was convinced I was working for the invaders. I thought he was going to shoot me back there. The man in black sprung up behind him. I don’t know anything else.”
“You knew the knight and proconsul were too dangerous to take on at the same time!”
“That was obvious from what they did in the gun battle. None of your people could hit them no matter how hard they tried. The man in black appeared and killed the man who brought me brought me here too. He killed her because she saw him coming up in the rear. You didn’t even know she was dead until you turned around.”
“She’s lying, commander,” Shardhula volunteered. “She probably works with that Jacobite. Let me take her outside and….”
“Enough!” Sura popped at him. “I make the decisions around here! You do as you’re told! If I want you to kill someone, I’ll let you know. The same goes for the rest of you, get back to doing what you were supposed to do. Kushmanda, or whatever your name is, you stay close to me until I can figure out what to do with you.” She returned the gun to her holster.
Chapter 8
The morning was spent sorting through the dead bodies in the atrium and down on the floor. Tripada radioed the body count to HQ, although he still couldn’t get a response from them. Sura made a decision after considering what their supplies were like and what kind of damage they could inflict on the invaders.
“I need to send these refugees out of here,” Sura spoke to the rest of the marines who were gathered around her. “There is no way we can completer our mission while we have to take care of a bunch of men, women and children. I’m going to send them out of the city with most of the spare marines we have. The only ones I want to remain with me are Tripada, Shardhula and Jargdash. You too, Kushmanda, no sense on inflicting you on these people. We have to move them out of here and quick.”
“But, commander,” one young marine spoke up, “we came here to fight, not provide escort service for a bunch of civilians!”
“Are you disobeying an order, soldier?” she snapped at him. He shut his mouth instantly.
“I didn’t th
ink so. Now get to work!” The marines hastily assembled what they could for the trip outside the city. There was supposed to be refugee camps under control of the JFA in the countryside, but no one really knew.
“Where did you learn to do such a complete diagnosis?” Tripada asked Kushmanda as she looked over a young mother and child who were about to depart for the journey.
“I tell you, I don’t know,” she claimed. “The words spring into my head. I don’t remember much of anything before they found me.”
The young mother touched the Kushmanda’s feet and scampered off to join the others. Tripada swore when she left. This would get out of control fast. It was a good thing these people were leaving.
Shardhula walked up to the commander later and pulled her aside. “That trooper she took down with one strike,” he said to her. “She killed him.”
“That was one lucky punch,” Sura spoke to him. “Or she knows a hell of a lot more about killing people than she’s telling us.”
Right before the group was to leave and the final body cleared away, Commander Sura made an announcement. “We’re going to have a memorial service before you leave. It’s the least we can do for our fallen brothers and sisters. The civilians can attend too, it will do them some good to know who gave their lives so they could live another day. Kushmanda, you will sit next to me.”
The group pushed all the tables out of the center, except for one they needed. They placed chairs around it for the service. The refugees sat on the floor. One marine found a small tray and placed a candle on top of it. Someone managed to find a trident on another floor.
“Not that we’re all here,” Sura said to the group around the table, “let us begin.” She still had on her tan uniform and saw no reason to change into anything else, considering their circumstances.
The marines were all seated according to rank. Sura sat at the head of the table with Tripada next to her on the left. Next to him was Shardhula and so on. The circle wove around the table until it came to Kushmanda, who was on her right. The refugees were seated around them with no regard to rank. Sura noted, with some irritation, a few of them were touching their head to the floor in the direction of Kushmanda.
The trident was mounted to the center of the table. Someone had smashed a hole in it during the gun battle and Sura slipped the pole of the trident through it. Sura lit the candle on the tray in front of the trident and lifted it up. She didn’t have much food to offer. There were only a few emergency rations on the tray and some tins of what they’d found earlier in the day. More canisters of food were piled up around the trident. It wasn’t a lot, nor very eloquent, but it would do for now.
Commander Sura went through the passes she could remember and recited the verses that came to mind. She messed up more than a few times. She wasn’t an ordained minister, so no one really cared. It was the gesture, which was important. The rest of the group caught on what she wanted to accomplish and chanted their parts in the ancient tongue. No one spoke it anymore, but everyone knew what the words meant.
She turned to the marines and refugees. Trying hard to remember what she was supposed to do; Sura folded her hands, bowed to them and waited. There was a pause as they returned the salute and said their response.
Commander Sura sat back down and looked at the burning candle. She turned to the crowd around her.
“This isn’t much of a temple,” she told them, “but it’s all heaven will grant us today. I know many of you follow different paths, but the one thing we all want to do is stay alive. I don’t know if I’ll see any of you after we break up, but this is a time we can take to praise those who fought and died with us. I handpicked the marines who I took with me on this mission. Everyone came with me of their free will, no one was ordered to come along. As for the rest of you and the others,”-she glanced at Kushmanda,-“I don’t know why you’re still here after all this fighting. I only hope my people will be able to get you to safety, but there is a long road to travel through dangerous territory. Keep watch and be mindful of what my marines tell you.”
“Since I called this service,” she continued, I will start with the first remembrance.” She turned and looked at the room where Kushmanda was held when she first arrived.
“When we first landed at the edge of the city, the invaders were not so close to us,” she began. “I had the VTOL’s drop us off as close to the outer highway as I could. It was part of the main route of evacuation, but the road into the city didn’t have much traffic on it because everyone wanted to get out. This was two days after the government called for the general evacuation. The road out was plugged with cars, people and buses. Although the police were doing their best to keep it orderly, they were overwhelmed. People spilled over to the entrance ramps and made it hard to get to our destination. We had a few jeeps at the time, but most of the distance was gained on foot.” Sura saw a few of the marines nod in memory.
“We were almost at our first objective when HQ told us the first invader ship was on the ground in the capital. We had to turn ninety degrees and make for the industrial district where it landed.”
“When we arrived, it was there, but only a few Synarchists were outside it. They were busy taking in their surroundings. The industrial court was abandoned from the evacuation.”
“We took out the landing ship with a missile launcher that I wish we still had. Two hits blew up the rear engines. The Synners poured out of it and engaged us the moment it caught fire. The whole court was in flames. I directed fire to a rifle company next to me. Somehow, the Synners figured out who I was and launched an attack on my position. Five mortar rounds hit my location one second apart and blew us all to hell.”
“All I remember was someone pulling me out of the fire. I was a mess from the concussions and most of the people with me were dead. Yet I managed to live, praise Lord Shiva.”
“It was Krodha who yanked me out of the twisted metal that had been a jeep. He managed to get me inside the fabrication plant next to our position. I was there long enough to regain consciousness. I remember him yelling at me to come back when I was ready to slip away. The medic gave me something and I snapped back to reality. I took some shrapnel over it, but they were able to dig it out of my thigh later. When I came around, I immediately went to the location of the battle and called in the strikes that took out the rest of the Synner troops. In the end, we only lost five people that day. The Synners lost everyone on that drop ship.”
She paused to let everyone think about him for a few minutes. The room was silent. Commander Sura knew that she’d have to poke someone else to go next.
“Does anyone else have something to say?” she asked.
“May I speaksahiba?” an old man said from the edge of the refugees. Sura peered over the assembly to see who it was.
She knew the man. He was the closest thing among the refugees to clergy. She struggled to remember his name, and then it came to her. “Siri Thruga Munda”, or just plain Thurga. She was never one to go in for fancy titles, even after her parents threatened to beat her for not using the proper ones for her uncles.
“You may,” she told him. “Who did you want to speak about?”
“Lady Shamsana,sahiba,” he continued. “I am allowed to speak to you this day, because of her. She defeated Yama himself to bring me to safety.”
“I had locked up the shrine where I served as custodian and was on my way home,” he began. “I knew the city was supposed to be evacuated, but I wanted to make sure everyone in our district had a chance to visit the temple and say good-bye before they left. The priests had already taken everything of value out of it, so I stayed behind to cover the statues and turn off the lights.”
“I was out on the street on my way home to pack up a few things and get out. I don’t have much, my family moved away years ago and I live in small apartment. Many is the time I’ve thought of traveling to see what I couldn’t in all the years I’ve lived this life.”
“I was about to turn the corner an
d leave when I heard the sound of a large truck. I stopped just as it pulled in front of me. However, it wasn’t a truck; it was one of the invader’s war machines. Men in uniforms came out of it and surrounded me.”
“I was terrified.”
“They’d seen me leave the temple and wanted the keys for it. What could I do? I gave them up and they went inside expecting to find treasure.”
“It didn’t take them long to realize anything of value was gone. They threw me up against a wall and threatened to kill me if I didn’t tell them where the gold was kept. I told them we didn’t have any gold, even in the best of times, the temple could only afford brass statues and they’d been removed by the congregation. One of them put a rifle to my head and called me all sorts of names I didn’t understand.”
“When the shooting began, I thought it was them, but it was Lady Shamsana. She took them all down from where she stood, at least a hundred yards away. How she did this, I do not understand, but I am here to tell this tale because of her.”
One of the other marines mentioned Vatuka. It turned out he’d been a chef before he volunteered for the army after the invasion. He was known all over his town for what he cooked and competed several times in national cook-offs. Although he came from a very old and prestige family, he never made any big deal about his background and few people knew about it.
After he ended up in the brigade, Commander Sura used him to locate provisions in addition to his combat skills. He could be counted on to make any supply last longer than anyone thought possible. Several times, he’d turned corncobs into gourmet meals with a few touches. If anyone could find a way to make emergency rations tasty, it was him. He even baked a birthday cake for one marine who missed home. At the same time, he never flinched from his duty when called.