The exchange was an explosion of rampant carnage. Both hit their marks. Bullets flew with abandon. The rising smoke from spent slugs rose higher and thicker. The reports left a buzzing in his ears that only grew louder the more they unloaded on one another. Both just slabs of meat absorbing hot rage. The console before him taking half of the shots as she weakened.
Lynch unleashed the howl of the damned and she raced across the center of the command platform, her eyes ravenous with hate and a desperate need for reckoning. Sam unloaded four more shots, his last bullets in his chambers. The console board in front of him exploded into a web of sparks, debris, and shrapnel, the blast wave sent him flailing back into a wall.
Wilson stood and aimed for another barrage. Sam decided it was best to beat a hasty retreat and fled up the rampway towards the war room above.
DREVAN FELT A great emptiness fill his soul, like a void had opened in his heart, and he stopped in the middle of the corridor. They were almost to the shuttle bay. He could see it just down the hall.
Yet, he looked back.
Garret and Durante halted and turned towards him. Durante stepped forward, words dropping form his mouth in a panic. “What’s wrong? We have to go!”
He sounded exasperated, afraid. And Drevan figured he had every right to be. They could hear the soldiers coming. Maybe half a dozen of them.
“The shuttles are this way! Hurry up!” Drevan heard one calling from around the bend of a cross connecting hallway nearly at the end of the corridor.
They would overrun the docks. He thought he heard six distinct sets of footfalls, but more was likely on the way and neither Durante nor Garret were gunslingers. If the soldiers stormed the bay, there would be no waiting for Aidele and Asta.
No… jus’ Aidele… His throat knotted up and his jaw tightened. He couldn’t say just how he knew. He just did. He’d felt her passing. There was no time for this, he ruminated. It’d been a good run. Ah’ll be seeing ya soon, lover. He looked back.
“Git yer asses ta the bay. Looks like what’s left o’the troops’re comin’, an they’re like not in any sharin’ mood!”
“But, but…” Durante tried to say something, but Garret put a hand on his shoulder.
“Come. If they overrun the bay, Aidele will have no escape.” Garret nodded to Drevan, and he returned the gesture.
Old man done read mah mind…
While they rushed off towards the waiting shuttle and waverider, Drevan pulled his guns, reloaded, and walked down the corridor just as the soldiers rounded the bend some thousand feet or so away. He raised his weapons, sighed, and prepared to make his last stand.
AIDELE HELD ASTA in her arms. Her dark eyes stared into the void, and it took everything in Aidele’s power not to cry. Asta didn’t look like she’d died in agony. Or anger. There was almost a serene gaze in those eyes and Aidele pushed back against the choking in her throat. She wouldn’t and couldn’t afford to let loose. Besides, there was the little matter of Berricks to contend with and whatever mourning was to be done would just have to wait. Aidele laid Asta’s head gently back to the floor and ran her hands tenderly across her forehead. She smiled at Asta and sighed.
“Ya rest now. Ah’m grateful fer all ya’ve done fer me. Ah tol’ ya before… ah… I forgive you. An’ I know that mah momma forgave you too. So, all those debts ya were so worried ‘bout, let ‘em go. They’ve been paid in full. Now, ah gotta go’n put Berricks down. Not waste an opportunity you helped give us. Ah’m sure Drevan will be right proud of you.”
Aidele carefully kissed Asta’s brow, then stood up, drawing her hungry Irons once more. Then raced off up the rampway after Berricks.
She entered a round room at the summit that had a nearly three-hundred sixty-degree view of the dorsal vantage of space. A marbled table set in the center of the room displayed a holographic projection of the battle taking place beyond the vessel. Out beyond the viewports, she saw the Chuhukon fighters firing into the hull. Pieces of the Invicta flared up, blew off the vessel. Planetside, another squadron of fighters came up to join the fray.
What she didn’t see was Sam Berricks. She looked back towards the rampway leading down to the bridge and noted two short walls that looked like they surrounded a pair of cylinders stretched floor to ceiling. One to each side of the ramp. Built into each was what appeared to be emergency sliding doors. She approached the one to her left and hit a wall panel. The door slid open revealing a tube running straight down.
“For an emergency escape vent, this wasn’t too secure,” she furrowed her brows feeling her anger rising. “You sumabitch. Not even brave ‘nough ta stay’n face me. Sent all your cronies ta do it fer ya…”
She went to the other wall and pressed the panel there. The door slid open revealing a single person lift. She stepped inside and depressed a switch on the interior.
“Hope yer goin’ ta the same place.”
The door slid shut and her stomach lurched as the lift shot downward at a nausea inducing velocity. If not for the padding all around her she would’ve sworn she was apt to hit the roof. The lift came to a sharp stop, the door slid open, and Aidele hesitantly stepped out taking stock of her location. She was in a short hall running two ways. To her right, she saw the other emergency lift, now empty.
“Where’d you go, coward?”
She looked both directions seeing a bend at both ends running forward to the direction she was facing. A bloody handprint was on a wall to her left and she elected to follow it to that direction and around the bend. Coming around there, she found another, longer corridor running maybe three hundred feet. As she raced down it, the ship rocked. There was a sound of an internal explosion and Aidele had the sudden notion it was the engine core rupturing. Sooner than expected and likely due to the full force of Hinon’s Defense Force pummeling the crippled vessel.
No! Ah ain’ caught ‘im yet! She quickened her pace, the adrenaline driving her harder, her guns held out and ready to deliver Berricks’ death knell. But she still didn’t see where he’d gone. All she could see was a sterile white environment with red stripes running along the mid-section of the corridor walls. Occasionally, a bloody print here and there. There was one section of wall where blood streaked for a good six-feet. She assumed it must’ve been him leaning into the wall, trying to maintain balance. She could only hope that meant he was mortally wounded.
Pushing further showed no other signs of blood, dripping to the floor or otherwise. She came to the end of the hall where it curved right and went straight across until it met the opposite corridor coming off the emergency lifts section. There was another corridor halfway across that ran perpendicular to this series of halls. At the intersection, a doorway to the right. She rushed towards that door and triggered the wall panel. The door opened to reveal a room full of combat gear and stored equipment. But no sign of any life. She turned from the room and headed down the offshoot corridor leading away from the intersection. It ran for almost four hundred feet, she was sure, and almost fell to her knees exiting it. She was back in the docking bay they had first started this insurgency from. She raised her hands to her head, her revolvers still clutched tightly. A scream begged to be unleashed.
He’s escaped! Taken a shuttle! We’ve lost! And at what cost!? How could I fuck this up so badly!? But… but, maybe, if I take the waverider, I can catch him!
Her thoughts were broken by dozens of weapons exchanging fire. Off to her right, there was a cacophony of indiscriminate howling. Looking to the source, she saw Grandfather and Durante taking cover behind a barrier as bullets ricocheted from down an adjoining corridor at the opposite end of the bay. Aidele dropped her hands and started walking in that direction.
Then jogged.
Then hit a full out sprint as she closed in to the hallway entrance.
Grandfather saw her.
“Aidele!”
“Git the shuttle warmed up! We’ll be right there!” She howled knowing that Drevan was down that corridor and she had to h
elp him. “Didja see Berricks!?”
“No! He… he got away!?” Grandfather called grimacing.
Aidele didn’t respond as she hurried to the corridor to see Drevan halfway down firing indiscriminately at a whole horde of soldiers. What looked to be in the number of twenty. And all were targeting Drevan.
HE WAS AT peace. The bullets were flying. The adrenaline was pumping. His enemy, these soldiers of one General Samuel Berricks, were rushing towards him, guns blazing. They seemed too inept to hit him. Or full of fear at the inevitable. Or maybe it was the Spirits the Chuhukons were always praising, come to give him a hand in his final hour. If so, he’d praise them too. Whatever it was, these soldiers had given up all pretense of order. All that they saw was one old ornery gunslinger standing between them and salvation.
He smiled, held his guns out towards the oncoming wave of flesh.
And fired.
The thoughts in his mind as he stood his ground, putting one down after another, were of his children. His family. A life spent fighting to survive. A realization that he regretted nothing, and knew Asta didn’t either (save for that little spat with her sister, Mirra, of course. But a strange feeling told him she was at peace over that. That some sort of reckoning had finally allowed her to make amends. And now she was happy). This was for their future, even if they didn’t know it yet. He could feel them. Despite the pain Berricks had wrought, they were still there with full lives ahead of them. And he knew, knew, that Aidele was going to help them move forward.
And he couldn’t be happier.
That’s right! Come git it! Supper’s ready’n there’s plenty ‘nuff ta go ‘round!
His own papi always said, ‘Ya either die wit’ yer boots on, or ya waste ‘way ta nothin’. An’ no Polk ever wasted ‘way ta nothin’!’
Acrid smoked filled his nostrils, the rapid exchange of weapons fire deafening. His smile broadened because he knew then, he wasn’t going to waste away to nothing.
DREVAN TOOK DOWN seven more of the soldiers before being gunned down by automatic fire of the assault rifles of the troop coming up the sides. Aidele gritted her teeth wanting to howl in rage. She was too late. Again. The soldiers still alive stomped over their fallen comrades and across Drevan’s still body as they rushed forward.
They all saw her standing there glaring at them, fresh rage turning her vision red, and took aim as they howled their obscene war cries. Aidele thumbed the inner disc of her right Iron all the way to full force and focused on the soldier in the lead. The one with dangling grenades at his waist.
Before they were in close enough range to open fire, she pulled the trigger.
The following explosion shook the bay causing Durante to scream ‘Holy fuck!’ as the shockwave sent the remaining soldiers flying backwards into an inferno. The energy dispersed was like pulling a dishtowel through water as quickly as possible, the bodies and detritus carried backwards through the wake. Walls were scorched but stood strong. The heat swirling back to them was like a furnace straight out of Hades, but the corridor stood. Because Aidele remembered the only thing strong enough to stand up to her revolvers’ highest settings were the hulls of a Union dreadnought.
It was a funeral pyre for Drevan. The last thing she could possibly do for him. And it left a hollow, aching void in her on top of all the rest of their losses.
Aidele closed her eyes briefly. Gawddamn it… Gawddamnit all to hell! How’d you fuck this up so bad!? She turned then and headed for the shuttle bay interior. Durante was close at hand.
“Go with Grandfather. I’ll find another way out. I need ta find Berricks.”
“Is your revenge more important than your life!? What about all the sacrifices that’s just happened on your behalf!?” Durante looked around. “Where’s Asta?”
Aidele’s face dropped and she took a step back. She looked to the floor. He was right. And Berricks was probably already gone too. No. It was better to leave now while they still had the chance. Even if Berricks had escaped, the Invicta had seen its last day. The ship rocked again under another explosion. And that put a cap on their attack.
“…You’re right. Come on. Let’s get off this sinking ship…” She grabbed his arm and led him towards the waverider which now was exposed for all to see. Apparently, they’d lowered the shields as she expected. But weren’t bright enough to unlock it from the deck, as she had hoped.
Grandfather looked down at them from the cockpit of Berricks’ shuttle, jaw clenched and his brows raised. She figured he’d have some extra stress lines on his face once all was said and done.
She indicated to him that they were taking the waverider and he nodded. Aidele motioned for Durante to get on the passenger’s seat as she took the pilot’s position. But before she could sit down, a voice called out to her.
“Wilson!” Sam Berricks stepped out from behind a shuttle pointing a gun at them one handed. His other hand was at his side where a dark blot of red took up a good chunk of his abdomen under his ragged duster. “Yer a real force o’chaos, I’ll give you that! But I’m not leaving here with my tail between my legs! How ‘bout you just dismount that vehicle an’ hand it over ta me? I’ll leave and you all can live nice, happy lives. Well, least ‘til the Union cuts out that cancer that’s the Wastelands, anyhow!”
Aidele glared at him as he stumbled out in front of their path where he halted, revolver raised high. She furrowed her brows, lips turning down. “Hello, Sam Berricks.”
She drew out Berricks’ name in a way that suggested she was anything but happy to see him. Taunting him, even. Daring him to push her.
Then, tired of waiting, Aidele threw herself down into the seat, triggering the engine in the same motion. Berricks opened fire as Aidele gunned the accelerator and the plasma shields sprung to life. His bullets bounce off the shields as the waverider lurched forward, practically growling in the process. Or maybe that was just her.
She triggered the forward guns, a volley of fire igniting Berricks’ chest, torso, face, limbs. His metal arm flew off into the docks. The waverider passed straight through him, his body flying out through the docking bay shields in the violent act, becoming wedged between both the shielding of the waverider and that of docking bay seven. Berricks was disintegrated into viscera and bone meal, turned into a fine, bloody mist. A crimson particulate shower no longer resembling a man, his screams silenced as the vessel exited the docks.
Aidele barely glanced back at where he’d been, the liquid already dissipating into the depth of space beyond the Invicta, Berricks’ symbol of power. And sped towards where Hinon awaited their return.
“Goodbye, Sam Berricks,” her intonation drew out his name once more, her voice tinged with sorrow, anger, and spite.
Later, she would feel fine. Good even. For now, she just wanted the entirety of the Union behind her.
Grandfather flew Berricks’ shuttle out behind her and they angled planetside.
In their wake, the Invicta ruptured, listed, fell apart, and exploded under the assault of the Hinon Defense Force’s merciless barrage and the self-destruct sequence only now beginning its initiation. All around Hinon, dozens of emergency escape pods, jettisoned from the Invicta, formed a burning trail as they entered the Martian atmosphere.
CHAPTER TWENTY: PICKIN UP THE PIECES
BLACK SMOKE ROSE high into the sky, drifting lazily towards the Dustlands Channel. Aidele stood there, legs shoulder length apart, duster fluttering in the wind. She stared at the pyre she’d built around her best friend and constant companion. Mesmerize’s solemn funeral darkened the ridge. However, she had to do it, had to send him off. She wasn’t going to let him continue to rot out there, to remain little more than carrion for hungry vultures and starving mangers. many of whom she was forced to drive off after returning for him. The lingering sweet stench of death hung in the air. Even so, she was determined to send him off to whatever ancestors awaited him.
Loved. Remembered. Honored.
She heard the whine of an approac
hing engine. It was one of Grandfather’s buggies. She knew it and didn’t need to look back as the driver forced himself out of the driver’s seat with a grunt. A few moments later, Grandfather was at her side watching the pyre too.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t be here for your eulogy, Aidele. There are many voices striving to be heard. Questions that nobody has the answers to. Chaos.”
Aidele shook her head. “The real chaos has yet to begin. They’re coming, ah know it. There was no reason for what Berricks did except one.”
“Invasion. What is left of the Council have reached out to President Lee. He has yet to reply,” Grandfather sighed. “The first battalion was sent out as soon as we were attacked to secure all of our borders. They engaged two fleets mere hours from Hinon ready to attack. Now they sit at the edge of our territory just beyond our reach. Another fleet, Berricks’ it is assumed, along the Pheyton Range. Warships all. Not envoys or scientific expeditions. The Council sent out five destroyers and seven contingents of war fighters, to halt their advance. An envoy, as well, was sent to Earth. What do you think the chances are they’ll be welcomed with open arms? No, the Union has ripped up the treaties and stands poised to rip our world away from us!”
“I need to speak to the Council. I need to know they’ll listen. Do you think they will? Or should we do what so many others are doing now, abandon Hinon?”
Grandfather looked down to her. She still stood staring at the pyre. He clasped a hand on her shoulder. “We will make them listen if we must. War has been declared and we would be fools to ignore these advances. And, hear me, Granddaughter, leaving to the outer colonies, the Continuum, is only a temporary reprieve. As Durante has said, the journal’s information has been transmitted to Philadelphia. All that your father wrote in that book is in their possession. They will use it against us. And then, all of Sol will be theirs. We have a small chance. A hope of unity. With the outer colonies and perhaps…”
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