by Marc Mulero
Bang. A high-caliber round left Eldra’s rifle, making ears ring deaf while drawing a hole in the furthest bodyguard’s gut, cutting Alek’s defenses in half. Then, upon seeing the traitor make a move in her peripheral, Eldra dropped her gun and unsheathed her sword, swinging it to a stop inches from Alek’s throat.
Mulderan still stomped on, into close-combat range, bullets clanging against his shield, his armored shins, everything, until hearing click, click. Empty.
Woosh, a swing of his stave wound back the protective metal into its casing, where he heard it lock into place, and then lunged forward in one fluid motion, ending with the bodyguard’s windpipe crushed. There was nothing left to do for this traitorous guard but drop the weapon and claw at his own throat – choking, gasping for air.
Mulderan then turned to Alek, flipped his stave back into his cloak and went on with his speech as if nothing had happened.
“I agree that the terrorists should burn. They are becoming a nuisance, but they will be wiped out in time,” he said, making his way back to Alek, who remained stiff with the sword at his neck. “But unfortunately, you fail to understand the grand scheme. The future will be shaped by a largely leveraged, experienced community, one that you could have partaken in.” He reached for the highlord’s throat and clenched.
Eldra grinned, stepping aside for her husband to address his betrayer.
“You should have behaved appropriately, in a way that wouldn’t disrupt my vision. Now, because of your actions, you’ve proven that you could never be trusted. And for that, you must be chastised.” Mulderan lifted Alek’s fidgeting body off of the floor and up against the wall.
“Fuck you, murderer,” Alek spat in between gasps. “May you live forever in hell.”
Mulderan stared into Alek’s eyes as he squirmed, and then snapped his neck with a twist of his wrist.
"Formations," Trillus whispered through radio.
Hiezer elites hustled into position in between the trees. All rifles were silently aimed at a band of defilers draped in forest green and padded with silver. They were organized, and anything but discrete. The largest of the Rogues hauled heavy metal contraptions armed with sparking harpoons, aligning their aim at opposite ends of the targeted Estate.
Synchronized spikes flew from their weapons, splitting into the air like firecrackers and sticking high into nearby trees. They sparked upon landing, illuminating an otherwise invisible netting with electrical blue jolts. Everything was charged and ready. Carefully, the burly Rogues trekked backward, rubber gloves protecting them from frying their own hands, to block in the sorry Dactuars, wherever they were, like caged animals.
"Fucking Templos and their gadgets," Alice quietly cursed next to Volaina.
Volaina kept her attention straight ahead, curious as to the Rogue’s game plan.
This is a shame. They don't realize it yet, but they just trapped themselves.
The Templos Rogues neatly assembled toward the front of the Estate, readying to storm the entrance way, their backs facing the hidden Hiezers. An opportunity for ambush had finally arrived, signaling for Trillus’ troops to carefully form a half-circle behind the Rogues. Weapons drawn, footsteps careful.
Volaina was the first to move out of her group, motioning for her team to follow.
"General, why are you leading from the front?" Alice asked in a whisper.
What could she possibly be getting at? Trillus is in front, too.
"You always start in the back, to throw the enemy off when you finally reveal yourself. Why would you change such an effective tactic?"
Volaina felt her heart thump harder while her throat began to dry up from nerves.
Another misplay?
"This isn't my mission to command, Alice," Volaina whispered. "Quiet."
The formation was finally complete with Trillus at its center, a half-moon of black and gold awaiting their general’s order.
There, amid enemies, all Hiezer attention switched to a cautious Rogue who felt eyes on him. The hair standing on the back of his neck, the feeling of footsteps, unnerving silence, a break in the wind… all of it was true. He was right.
And when he turned, his knees nearly buckled from under him, and they would have if he wasn’t a soldier, because the Rogues were encroached on all angles, made only worse by their own electrical netting. They’d boxed themselves in, with no way to escape now. It left him shivering as his body caught up with his angst.
He peered around – two Rogue squads had already entered the Dactuar Estate – “Shit.”
The curse made the rest waiting outside follow suit, turning slowly, not wanting to believe it. But this was something that no one could wish away. They all found themselves in a losing stand-off, outnumbered two-to-one. Heartrates rose collectively, on both sides, gun barrels ready.
"Stand down!" Trillus shouted, aligning his framed eye with the scope of his rifle. "It's over."
The Hiezers peered from the cover of trimmed saplings and shrubbery, while the Rogues stood exposed, out in the open. One attempt to flee would be their end.
"Drop your weapons!" Trillus shouted again, this time losing patience.
Volaina’s blood burned through her veins as the adrenaline kicked in.
I’m on the wrong side… the wrong fucking side of this deadlock. Please take them alive. Surrender Rogues… throw down your weapons. Please.
A burly Rogue stood anxiously, two silver sub-machine guns trembling in his grip, both pointed forward as he stared directly into the face of death. He looked over to a brother-in-arms on one side, then to a sister-in-arms on the other. Curt nods were returned. They all knew what the looks meant. Words weren’t needed, not now. Just an unspoken signal, a bloody flare shot high to alert the squads inside, to give them a chance to live. That’s all they were worth now.
The man inhaled deeply, air caught in his throat. Anticipation. Sweat. Tears. All before a bone-chilling war cry burst outward, shaking the air. Bullets and harpoons were sent into flight… and blood.
No! Volaina screamed internally. No!
"End them!" Trillus shouted, shifting his aim in between targets faster than all the others.
Volaina dropped to the floor in prone position, cursing to herself while she fired at the Rogues. With every shot, she grinded her teeth in fury.
Focus. Alice is just as big a threat as the Rogues right now. Without my cover as Caova, I’m useless to Blague. Useless to my family.
Not letting another thought guide her actions, Volaina rolled over so her rifle laid over her belly, tactically within the thick shroud of grass. The fog of war presented great opportunities for a spy, as did chaos. And so she aimed quickly at her skeptic, who was none the wiser at the moment – green to combat – only a handful of missions under her belt. Bang. A bullet flew in the wrong direction, low to the ground. No Hiezers noticed, no one would ever find out, except for Alice, of course, who was chopped to her knees from the blast of a high caliber bullet. Her shin was blown open, mask stretched tightly from a dropped jaw and rounded eyes.
"I knew it, you bit-" Alice started before taking a bullet to the forehead.
Volaina contorted herself back into forward prone position once the deed was done. She glanced to either side of her, listening for anything but the norm of warfare chaos. Any footsteps treading toward her location, anything amiss. Nothing. The treasonous act was masked, friendly fire drowned by enemy fire. Carry on.
Trillus crouched forward, honed to everything in front of him and nothing behind him. He siphoned through targets like a demon possessed, not even slowing to confirm that the bullets had struck their marks. It was a game of pop-up targets for him, only instead of pings from clashing metal, cries let him know that he’d won. The firefight ended with the bulk of tragedy on the side of the Templos.
The Hiezer elites rose from cover and looked to General Trillus for next steps: a series of hand gestures broke one group to the right, another finger point to Volaina rallied her to stand up fron
t with him.
"We have to lure them out,” Trillus said, carefully approaching the entrance of the Estate. “They're done for and they know it."
"I counted seven casualties to their forty." Volaina advanced next to him, signaling for the troops behind her to keep eyes on the door.
"I would’ve preferred zero. We expected them to surrender, in which case we would have extracted information and then executed them," Trillus explained. "But, as it turns out, the Rogues are more radical than we’d anticipated."
Is that what his plan is? To execute the remaining Rogues inside the building? They'll probably go out with a fight just like the others.
A woman struggling to get back to her feet caught the general’s eye. He plucked her like he was fishing with bare hands, and raised her to see if she should be kept or tossed back to sea. A unique insignia was patched to her chest. She was of high rank… a good sign for the Hiezer. He jerked her around to examine her wounds before addressing her.
"Your name, now," Trillus demanded, holding her face close to his mask.
The woman’s large golden eyes glared at the man before spitting in his face.
Volaina froze in her tracks.
Golden eyes… could she be one of Sabin’s kin? But he seemed so sure that he had no family left…
"Your reign will soon be at an end, pussy," the young woman answered. Trillus let out a sarcastic laugh and pulled her blond hair back.
"So offensive, even in the face of death." He gripped his other hand around her bloodied arm. "Your friends will be shot lifeless right in front of you, unless you cooperate."
The woman grunted, trying to hold back a cry from the pain.
Volaina cringed inside her armor, weighing the decision of whether or not she should put a bullet in Trillus' head and join the Rogues.
The young woman stared at him with pained eyes, not letting out a peep.
"Fine." Trillus turned back to his squads. "Troops, move in and spare no one!"
"T… Tessna," she finally revealed.
Trillus held up his hand for his troops to stand down.
Volaina tightened her grip around her rifle.
"We have Tessna!" Trillus shouted through the opening of the Estate. "Come out now and we will spare her!" He turned to her, looking down into her eyes. "Your rebellion is doomed. In just a matter of days, all will be lost."
Volaina loosened her grip.
What could he be speaking of? Another plan?
Tessna grabbed onto Trillus' collar. "I don't care what you bastards do to me, just let my people live!"
Trillus watched the Rogues who began to pool out of the front, dropping their weapons at the sight of Tessna. The grim expressions on their faces were apparent when they gazed upon the bodies of their fallen comrades.
"Single file, on your knees, facing the Estate!" Trillus shouted.
God, an execution…
Volaina's arms began to tremble, torn by the decision of which path to take.
A breeze drifted by while the Rogues began to line up; carried with it was the stench of blood, spoiling the aroma of the freshly cut landscape. Volaina looked up at the last Rogue walking out of the Estate.
That guy is definitely related to Sabin.
A young man with slicked back black hair and unmistakable golden eyes came into view. His demeanor and features greatly resembled that of the hunter’s.
"Al!" Tessna screamed in desperation. "Don't let them take you!"
Al's brow tensed at the harrowing scene. "Now, now, sis," he said, trying to pretend like nothing was wrong. "These pricks were just here for the show, and now it has arrived."
Trillus dropped Tessna to the floor and walked toward Al with his gun raised high. "Get your ass in line, next to your sister."
Al jumped off from the top of the stairs, landing face to face with Trillus, who was just waiting, daring for the Rogue to make a move. But he just blew a kiss back at the general - a glorious taunt that evoked the butt of a rifle to strike at his face. Al caught it mid-swing and fought the general’s force to pull down the weapon just enough for the two to lock eyes.
“Let them go… showcase me as your prized kill.” He stood tall and proud without an ounce of fear showing.
All Hiezer elites raised their weapons toward Al in case he attempted to disarm the general, but there was no need, because Trillus broke the Rogue’s grip and swung again, this time knocking him off his feet and on to his knees.
“I’ll decide what takes place from here,” Trillus said. “Get in line, now!”
Al got up, holding his face from the blow and looked at the Rogues while making his way down the line. “Whatever our fate is, however the Hiezers decide to justify their actions, it was an honor to fight beside you all,” Al roared on his way toward his sister. “Don’t let these shitbags that hide behind black masks be the last thing that you remember. Close your eyes and think of your families that we fight for. No one can take that from us!”
The faces that Al walked past were grim and defeated, but as they looked up at him, most nodded, and some gave a faint smile, trying to recall why it was that they took such grave risks.
Al knelt next to his sister and gave her a kiss on the forehead before saying, “We made a critical error, Tessna. We should’ve known the area was too quiet.”
Tessna let out an exhausted laugh. “He always said we were too young to lead our own missions.”
“Bullshit,” Al responded. “We have eleven successful takeovers under our belts. We just got cocky, and now we pay the price.”
Trillus stomped between the golden-eyed siblings, attention on Volaina. “Make sure the elites stay at a distance, Caova. This information is classified to our level only,” he said, turning to his kneeling captives. “Alright, this can go one of two ways.” Trillus pulled off his mask.
A set of mismatched eyes penetrated deep, one blue and one brown, both bulging like storms were expanding within them. Every outline on his chiseled jaw protruded with each grind of his teeth, like a skull coated with one shriveled layer of skin – thin, hollow deli meat. He flashed pearly whites through tight lips, crinkling his small mended nose. His complexion was pale… so white that it almost matched the color of his enamel.
“Jesus, you look like a skeleton. Please, for the love of god, put your mask back on,” Al pleaded.
It’s amazing… he’s just like him.
Volaina’s breath kept catching in her chest. She’d survived the battle, but for some reason, this felt like the hard part… getting into a mad general’s thoughts, trying to understand what he was going to do next. She shook her head.
Right… his order. I have to carry out his order.
She took a quick step, scolded herself because Caova probably would never move that way, cleared her throat and paced more confidently over to the elites. They all stood at attention, save for the few gathering the dead.
She sent up a fist, a clear signal for their teams to hold position where they were, just an earshot away from the general’s speech.
Trillus maintained a hardened exterior. “We know your base is within the Centric Crater. Quite genius, actually. That landmark has been a dead zone since before I can remember.”
Al and Tessna tried to keep their poker faces, but the shock was evident in their silence.
Volaina, lost in her own head, marched back into Trillus’ vicinity just after the crucial information was delivered. Terrible timing. He nonchalantly beckoned her closer to listen in, driving her right back to the thick of it all.
“Don’t feel so good now, do you?” he laughed triumphantly at the siblings. “I knew that grin wouldn’t last long. Finally… it’s over for you and the Rogues. No more do I have to chase your sparkling little hides into civilian quarters. Poof, you’ll be erased. This ambush will end it all, your base will cave in, and the Dactuar Estates will be returned to their rightful owners. Very exciting times, don’t you agree, Caova?”
“Thrilling,” Volaina
did her best to sneer.
Where? Where is their base? What day do they plan to ambush them? Give me something.
Tessna was trembling like a wilted flower in the wind. For someone who was supposed to be an esteemed soldier, this mad-man had her shook. “H-how did y-you find us?”
“Oh that’s easy. Traditional measures. One of your most loyal is a spy,” Trillus said with a smirk. “Nothing like a little leverage to get the ol’ noggin considering options, hm? I guess the fate of your people isn’t every Rogue’s number one priority.”
Al recognized that Trillus was all too excited to spill information… which meant only one thing. “General,” his tone changed completely, respecting his title, “before you go on, before you say anything further, let her g-”
“Willard Hinge.”
The name hurt more than the butt of a rifle to the face. That sealed it… their fates. Both of them. They weren’t being kept alive. Not after that.
Al’s chest rose and fell faster.
“He told us of your planned attack here, with one hundred percent accuracy, I might add… and of course the location of your quarters, which I have to say: thank you for confirming with those pretty little expressions of yours.”
Al gritted his teeth, eyes bloodshot, tears being held back for the sake of his people.
“I can see it now,” Trillus goaded. “They’re stupid, astonished faces when we barge in there, guns blazing, bombs flaring. Oh yes.”
Al screamed suddenly, springing forward to tackle Trillus shoulder first. “Run Tessna, now! We’re being executed! Get to the others, g-”
Trillus cackled again, responding with a punch to the collarbone and a swift elbow to the temple. Al fell back down in a daze, and the Rogues beside him tensed.
“Nobody move,” Trillus demanded, his tone turning serious.