Conquest

by T. C. Edge

It's not something I'm used to; to be powerless, unable to act. And now, as we approach my home, I feel exactly the same. Nervous. Anxious. Terrified that we'll arrive to find we're too late. That this entire venture has been an exercise in futility.

  That we have become powerless to lend our aid.

  I feel Dom reaching around my shoulder. I turn to him, his handsome face illuminated by the faint light within the car as it bounces along down the dirt track. He smiles soothingly, but doesn't speak. Words, perhaps, aren't needed now. What would be the point of him saying, "it'll be fine, darling. We'll get there on time, you'll see..."

  None. There would be no point.

  Because he doesn't know, and neither do I, what we'll find when we arrive. All we can do is rely on our feelings, our instincts. And right now, mine are as dark as this infernal, never-ending night.

  I try to smile back, but can't. Instead, I lay my head against his shoulder, nestling upon the light robes and protective leather armour he's wearing. Here, sat in these cars, many of the Neoromans have chosen to remove their outer layer of silver armour, making the ride more comfortable. Dom is one of them.

  I am not.

  No, I haven't removed a single piece of armour since the boat. It is my comfort blanket, in a way. It is the wrapping that makes me feel ready. The costume that gives me strength.

  The Red Warrior.

  I rest my head, and shut my eyes, trying to catch just a wink of sleep. I know it would be pointless. Were I to drop off, I'd likely be awoken immediately after, close as we are, near completion as this long, strained journey is.

  Dom's fingers begin working through my hair, brushing through the red waves as we rumble along in near silence. The car has been growing ever more quiet in these last few hours, the middle seats of the vehicle filled by Max and one of his men, the front taken, of all people, by Merk and a Neoroman driver. It was suggested that the old sailor stay on the ship, rather than journey to the city itself, but in a rare show of forthrightness, he was having none of it.

  I think, for the most part, the soldiers are happy enough for his company. He's been a pleasant enough distraction, at least, in our vehicle, telling Max and the other soldiers of New Haven itself, of President Orlando, Brie, and the various other high profile people worth mentioning. It's been something of an education for them, presented with Merk's particular style. And quite nice, too, for the old man to have some purpose here now that we've departed the waves, and entered into territory he isn't quite so commanding on.

  I lift my head from Dom's shoulder, resisting the faintest urge to sleep as it begins to creep up onto me. Instead, I cast the embers of that alluring sensation away, blinking heavily several times, and turning my eyes to look once more upon the world outside the window.

  The darkness resumes, yet there are cracks now of something more. A gentle glow of light shimmers in the distance. So faint. Hardly noticeable. But perceptible to my eyes.

  I look at it vaguely for a moment, the pieces struggling to come together. And then, in a flash, it hits.

  New Haven, I think. The light is coming from New Haven...

  I lower the electric window quickly, letting a blow of air rush in. The others stir, glancing back as I stick my head out of the window, wishing to get a proper look, unimpeded by the glass.

  I narrow my focus and zoom right in, just as the jeep begins to come to the top of a short rise, leading to a valley below that works through the woods.

  I...I recognise those woods. I recognise this rise. My Hawk-eyes take it all in at once, knowing exactly where we are...

  I feel a tug at my side. "What's going on, Kira?" comes Dom's voice.

  I draw back, and turn my eyes to the front of the vehicle, calling to the driver. "Faster. We have to go faster!"

  Dom begins peering through the windshield, trying to see ahead. The others do the same. Max, I know, has augmented vision like I do. His eyes narrow as they take in the bloom of light hovering in the distance.

  "It's coming from the city?" he asks, flashing his eyes towards me.

  I nod.

  "What is it?" Dom asks. "What's coming from the city?"

  "Light," I say, my voice strained. I look to the driver once again. "Faster. Can this thing not go any faster!"

  I feel the jeep begin to move with a little more velocity, but it's only minor. "Can't do much more here, my Lady," calls the driver. "Not on these tracks."

  I look back out of the window, as the jeep begins to descend into the shallow valley, heading for the woods. The light in the distance begins to go out, hidden by the forest and hills ahead.

  "Kira," Dom says, dragging me towards him again. "What light? Isn't it just the light of the city? What's the problem?"

  I shake my head, and look to Max, whose own eyes display the same knowing look as mine. "Firelight," I say, my voice tight. "The city is burning, Dom."

  His own eyes narrow now. He turns to the driver. "Faster!" he calls. "As fast as you can!"

  The driver, commanded now by his Emperor, manages to pick up the speed a little more, focussing hard as we bump along, moving right for the woods. Behind us, the other vehicles try to match our speed, their headlamps blazing at our rear. I glance back at them, and there, over the hills behind us, find the faint light of dawn now lifting on the eastern horizon.

  My jaw clenches tight as I turn around, gripping at the door handle, my knuckles going white. In the front seat, I see Merk hanging on for dear life as the jeep shudders and rattles violently, bouncing over the uneven track, leaping small gaps and depressions in the earth.

  "How far to the city, sir?" comes Max's voice. I can see him and the soldier beside him beginning to mentally prepare themselves of the fight. I know it'll be the same in the cars and transports behind us, the soldiers going through their own pre-battle rituals, should they need to fly straight into action.

  "Another ten or so minutes," replies Dom, his voice jumping as we hit a bump, the car sliding a little in the mud as we dive straight into the shadows of the trees.

  A blackness consumes us again, the terrain underfoot and wheel loose and slippery, speaking of recent and heavy rains. The driver slows through necessity, but not by much, splashing through the puddles, wheels spinning and kicking up mud as we grip and press right on.

  "I saw flashing lights within the mists," Max goes on. "It seemed like gunfire. The city might well be under siege."

  I nod, thinking the same. "We'll need to rush straight in," I say. "Assess quickly and see where we can lend our support." I look to Dom. "What about you?" I ask. "You'll need protection."

  "I...I will stay with you, my Emperor," says Max dutifully.

  Dom immediately shakes his head. "You're one of our finest warriors, Max," he says. "You'll be needed in the fight."

  "But sir, you cannot stay unprotected."

  "It's fine, Max," Dom says. "I'll have Merk beside me."

  Merk, still clinging on, manages to look back. "I'll...I'll protect...him," he says, managing a nervous grin.

  Max frowns. "Sir, I..."

  "Don't worry, Max. Really. I'm not as defenceless as you think." He taps his head, referencing his powerful telepathy. "Merk and I will stay to the rear. The rest of you may well be needed. We will assess when we arrive..."

  The car lurches again, almost spinning off into the trunk of a tree. The driver manages to save it just in time, turning the wheel, gripping at the path. Behind us, the other cars catch up, following in our slipstream. All seem to realise now that the rush is on. That we have no time to waste.

  As we splash and rumble through the woods, the thick canopy above casting us into a heavy gloom, I try to draw my focus towards my hearing. Shutting my eyes, I let my ears filter through the immediate sounds around me, ignoring the din of the convoy, the grumbling of the engine, the splashing of water and squelching of mud. I extend my focus beyond, listening for sounds I know so well, so intimately.

  The sounds of war.

  Falling into a semi-tra
nce, I gradually begin to draw in the chorus in the distance. It starts as a blur of noise, an indistinct jumble, as though heard through water. But then, the sounds begin to separate, and my ears begin to fill, picking up the rattling, swishing, booming sounds I've dreaded all along.

  Gunfire, chattering from a thousand weapons, all popping and fizzing across the plains. Missiles, whooshing through the air, exploding as they connect with their targets. Howls and screams of pain, those of the maimed and dying. It all merges and boils into a tapestry in my head. A tapestry of battle and war, across the plains outside of the city.

  I draw back, suddenly, and the sounds begin to fade.

  "What is it?" Dom asks, the jeep still rushing through the woods, hurrying towards the opening ahead. Beyond, the hills begin to undulate and rise again, moving to a crest. And from the top of it, we'll have our first few of the world below.

  "A great battle," I breathe, "out on the plains."

  "Not in the city?"

  I shake my head. "I...don't think so." I turn to him, my eyes growing small, catlike, glinting green. "We might just have made it, Dom," I whisper, my blood washed through with adrenaline. "We might have arrived just in time..."

  The opening rushes up ahead, and suddenly, the jeep pours back out into the fields outside of the woods. I look forward once more, and see the great blooming light around the city growing more clear, spreading far and wide, filled with flashing lights of silver, red, and blue.

  I don't need to call out this time. The driver knows what to do. Hitting the accelerator, he plants his foot flush to the floor, and the jeep lurches forward with all the speed it can muster. Behind us, the rest of the convoy begin bursting out of the darkness, appearing in the light. And still, in the distance, the growing glow of dawn continues to blossom above the tops of the trees.

  My heart tightens, as though constricted by a python, wrapping up my insides, stifling my breath. I stare forward once again and begin to hear the song of battle spreading through the air. I don't need my enhanced hearing now. It's clear enough to us all, the chattering, booming hum that blankets the distant air.

  I feel Dom's hand gripping mine. Our eyes meet. He nods, giving me strength. There's nothing to say here. No need to tell me to be careful, to take no risks in the hectic midst of it all, to show his concern or ask me to leave the fighting to his men.

  No, this is my domain. And he supports me, every step of the way.

  All he does say is the simple words that fill my heart with strength, that casts away the python coiled around it, hissing as it's chased back off into the gloom.

  "I love you, Kira," he says to me, smiling warmly, as the engine roars, and we rise up the hill, the air brightening ahead in a shroud of mixed colour. "Fight well, my Empress."

  I smile back, and kiss him briefly, no time for anything much more right now. "I love you too," I whisper back to him. "Be safe."

  We turn, then, together, our eyes moving back to the front. Ahead, the crest of the hills comes into view, the final summit before the lands slope back down to the plains, the valley below. With a final burst, the driver propels us towards it, and from over the top, I see the city, the lands around it, begin to appear.

  The car chugs and lurches to a stop, the rest falling in behind us and to our sides. I fling the door open and step onto the wet grass, the air tinged with mist, a cold wind blowing across my face. And with it, comes the smells. The smell of war. The smell of burning, of charred buildings and flesh alike.

  I look down the valley, and for the first time see the carnage below us. To the left, the city walls stretch away, breached in the far distance, huge areas beyond flaming and belching smoke into the early morning sky. To the far right, many miles away, I pick up faint signs of the enemy encampment, nestled among the hills, fronted by a wall that was never there before. And between the two sit the plains, broken into wide, flat grasslands, wooded sections, and areas where shallow fissures cut through the earth in a series of canyons and rocky formations.

  There, spread far and wide, the lights flash in the fading darkness, now being overcome as the light of dawn washes upon the lands. Pockets of fighting, dozens of them, hundreds, spring up to my eyes. Lights of red and blue indicate the presence of our pulse weapons. Silver lights suggest the return fire of the enemy's own energy guns. And fire...everywhere pockets of fire burn.

  "Line up!" I hear Maximus call, drawing all of his Neoroman soldiers to his flanks. "The city is in peril," he roars. "Neoroman blood is being spilled! We give our lives for our city, our people, for Emperor Domitian! Fight now, and honour them all!"

  They all roar, once more decked in their silver armour and red robes, a hundred and twenty powerful Neoroman warriors ready to lend their might.

  I turn to Dom quickly, standing beside me, lauded by his men. "Try to get to the city," I say. "Use the eastern gate. You know of the Oasis. The people will have been sent there, if they're not in Inner Haven. It'll be safer there than out here."

  He nods, taking orders from me, as I flash my eyes back onto the battlefield, performing a quick assessment. Below, I get the impression that our soldiers are beginning to pull back. That they are beginning to be overwhelmed by the enemy numbers.

  "Go, use the jeep," I say to Dom.

  "And you?" he asks.

  My eyes take in the sight of fighting down the slope, not so far away. Silver and black figures zip about, merging into the gloomy light. Others, I see, are dressed in the garb of the City Guard.

  "We go on foot," I say after the brief pause. "The closest fighting is near." I turn to Max, who nods to me.

  "Right, men," the man roars over the distant din. "To war!"

  Amid the bellowing war chant of over a hundred men, I look at Dom with a smile. And with my eyes lit green, and my armour lit red, I turn to the sloping hill, and charge down into the battle.

  Just as the sun begins to rise behind us.

  29

  Brie

  I stop, panting, slipping behind a tree. Bullets crack into the bark, spitting bits of wood into the air. I duck, pressing my back towards the trunk. Off to one side, Marcus fizzes through the forest like some ethereal spectre, cutting down several enemy soldiers as they try to fire back at him.

  Three others hunt me down, rushing to my position. Protected by the wide trunk, I shut my eyes, take a breath, and enter the cerebral realm. The grey world opens up before me, my focus narrowing immediately on my pursuers. They come at me, not entirely sure where I've gone, three Dashers of potent power and speed. In moments they'll find me.

  I'm not going to let them live long enough for that to happen.

  I snipe, quick as a flash of lightning, into the head of the soldier at the rear. My consciousness quickly takes over his body, my control spreading through him. And when I open my eyes back up, I don't see the world from my crouched position behind the tree.

  No, I see the world now as he does. His eyes, his mind, his very existence...are mine.

  Ahead, I watch as the other two Dashers fly forward, bearing down on the tree behind which I wait. I draw a smile up onto the man's lips as I lift my gun to fire. The feeling of power, to be in another person's mind like this, to assume total control over their actions, is intoxicating to me. I feel a brimming sense of joy as I raise the weapon, and call out to the two soldiers ahead.

  "Hang on," I bellow, speaking through the man's voice. "Wait!"

  The two men ahead react, spinning around to face their ally.

  Yet, as they turn, all they find is their comrade holding his gun towards them, grinning wickedly, eagerly preparing to spray them with a violent volley of bullets. One, too slow, gets cut up immediately as the sudden barrage begins, as I force the man's finger to pull down on the trigger. The other ducks and attempts to flee, trying to use the trees for cover as I follow him with my gunfire, chasing him down.

  He does well, almost getting away, before, from nowhere, a certain Neoroman captain comes whooshing through, taking the guy
out with his knife as he passes by.

  He spins to a stop in front of me, looking curiously into my eyes, his fingers clinging to a blood-drenched knife. Well, not my eyes, really, but the Olympian soldier's.

  "Brie?" he says, peering forward. "Is that you in there?"

  I try to hide the smile on the soldier's face, and act all serious, but can't. Instead, I merely shrug. "What's up, Marc," I say.

  "Thought so," he laughs, turning his eyes around. "So, where are you. The real you, I mean?"

  I turn the man in my direction, and nod towards the tree. I watch from his eyes as Marcus rushes over and out of sight. As he does, I open my real eyes up once more, drawing a breath as the world comes back into view from my own vantage. Marcus stands above me, blood flecked across his face, brown, tousled hair all dishevelled from the fight. But, still glossy. It always seems to be glossy.

  He reaches down and takes my hand, hauling me to my feet. Around us, beyond the woods, more battles are taking place, my eyes spotting flashes of Stalkers on the hunt, Neoroman Elementals flowing through on the wind, their feet hardly touching the ground as they press themselves along on the buffeting air.

  "So, what about him?" Marcus asks, looking at my mental captive. "Shall I take him out myself, or are you going to do something with him?"

  I don't take long to consider it. Though I'm no longer assuming remote control of him as I was a moment ago, he is still under my complete command, a slave to my spell. He'll do pretty much anything I tell him if I want him to.

  So, as Marcus looks at me questioningly, I quickly send an order into the enemy soldiers' head. A second later, he lifts a pistol to his head, and shoots himself in the brain.

  Marcus raises his eyes. "Boring," he says. "That's it?"

  "I call it quick and clean," I answer. "No point in making him suffer."

  "Well I call it a waste," Marcus says. "You could have sent him off to kill more of his own men."

  Well, there is that...

  "Next time," I say, turning my eyes through the gloomy trees, wondering just where our path will take us next. We're quite a way now from the main wall, led here as we entered into a battle with several gifted enemy troops. By now, I know, Herald Kovas and his team will have returned, a group of some of their finest killers entering into the fight.