In Her Name: The Last War

by Michael R. Hicks

  Drawing her own sword, Valentina fought to clear her mind, hoping only that the warrior wouldn’t use any of her supernatural powers. If she didn’t, Valentina thought the fight might just be even, especially since the warrior was clearly injured.

  With her blade held at the ready, she waited for the warrior to make the first move.

  * * *

  Ku’ar-Marekh was disappointed. One of the humans was grievously injured, and the others clearly wished to fight her one at a time. She had hoped they would attack her simultaneously to provide more of a challenge. Fighting each of them alone, even as badly wounded as her own body was, could have only one outcome, and would give little opportunity for her to bring the Empress the glory She deserved.

  It also allowed for the chance that Ku’ar-Marekh herself might survive.

  If that is to be my Way, she thought, then so be it.

  With the roar of gunfire echoing from the distant battlefield, Ku’ar-Marekh raised her sword, her hands tightening around the living crystal of the handle, the tip of the blade glinting in the fading sunlight.

  Staring into the eyes of the human, she attacked.

  * * *

  Valentina thought she was ready, but the strength and ferocity of the lightning-swift cut of the alien’s blade caught her by surprise. The alien was far stronger than her battered appearance let on.

  She managed to parry the attack, the blades singing as they collided, but the force of the blow knocked Valentina off-balance.

  Using her momentum instead of fighting against it, she fell backward and rolled, springing to her feet just in time to block a thrust aimed at her heart. The alien missed her intended target, but Valentina hissed with pain as the alien’s blade sliced deep into the flesh along the ribs under her left arm.

  Baring her teeth and focusing her anger and frustration, she launched herself at the warrior, her sword whirling in a series of strikes that drove the alien back. Adrenaline and stimulants flooded into Valentina’s system from her implants, and the sword in her hand was a blur as it slashed and cut at the Kreelan, trying to get past the alien’s devilishly fast defense to land a telling blow.

  The alien made a sudden overhand cut, and as Valentina blocked it, she whirled to one side, intending to land a disabling kick to the alien’s knee when a sudden, white hot pain exploded from her left shoulder.

  She turned to see the claws of one of the alien’s hands buried in the fragile joint.

  With a cry of pain, Valentina shoved the alien back and tried to slash at the Kreelan’s exposed wrist.

  The alien warrior pulled out her claws and used her armored fist to deflect Valentina’s blade.

  Then the Kreelan rammed her sword into Valentina’s unprotected stomach, shoving it in up to the golden hilt.

  * * *

  “Valentina!” Allison cried.

  “No!” Mills screamed as Valentina froze, her face echoing shock and surprise as she stared down at the sword that had run clean through her body. The blade, glistening with her blood, protruded from her back.

  Filled with murderous rage, Mills charged the warrior, armed with nothing but his bare hands.

  The Kreelan deftly sidestepped his charge, even as she still held Valentina pinned on her sword.

  A victim of his own momentum, Mills tumbled to the ground, but was back on his feet in an instant. Like a bull who’d missed the matador on its first pass, he came at the alien again.

  This time, when she looked at him, he felt his heart constrict, pierced by thousands of icy needles.

  Gasping in agony and clutching his hands to his chest, Mills sank to his knees.

  He saw Allison, a feral snarl on her lips, rise up from beside Steph. Holding the Kreelan sword in both hands, she ran at the alien.

  While the girl’s attack had spirit, it was no match for the Kreelan. The warrior batted the sword’s blade downward with her free hand, then with a powerful backhand blow sent Allison sprawling backward. She tripped over Steph and fell to the ground, still clutching the sword.

  Get up, Mills told himself, sensing the pain ease slightly as the alien turned her attention back to Valentina. The warrior stared into Valentina’s eyes as she deflected Valentina’s weak attempts to strike the warrior with her good arm, the sword having slipped from her grip.

  “Get up, you bastard…” Mills forced himself to his feet, his heart desperately trying to work within a constricting cage of ice.

  With a wet hiss, the warrior yanked the sword from Valentina, who slowly fell to her knees, a thin line of blood seeping from the corner of her mouth.

  Then the Kreelan raised her sword, intending to take Valentina’s head from her body.

  Grimacing in agony, Mills charged.

  * * *

  Steph awoke with a start, her heart racing. She’d been having a nightmare, a terrible dream of swords and death. But as her subconscious gave way to conscious thought, the details blissfully faded into oblivion.

  She was curled up in bed, surrounded by all the familiar things of home. The scent of freshly brewed coffee drifted in from the kitchen down the hall, where the automatic coffee maker was percolating away.

  Early morning. It had always been her favorite time of day, the brief moment out of time when the world hadn’t yet intruded, when she had no duties or obligations. A moment when she had time to herself to do absolutely nothing.

  Beside her lay Ichiro. She watched the rise and fall of his well-muscled chest, the slow rhythm of his breathing as he slept. She was so happy he was home, that they were together again. She had hated being separated from him, had wanted him back so badly. But he was here now. Everything was again as it should be.

  Watching him sleep, she marveled at what a handsome man he was. Despite having what amounted to a sedentary job, he still kept himself in excellent shape, and she smiled as she ran her eyes over his arms and shoulders, his chiseled abs. He was quite a bit younger than she was. It was a fact she never made any to-do about in public, but that she secretly allowed to serve her vanity. And as motivation to stay in great shape herself.

  Young though he might be, he had been made far older and wiser by the dreadful experiences he’d had since first contact with the Kreelans. He’d suffered through more than any man should have to endure, having lost so many of his shipmates and his beloved ships to the enemy.

  Her mind filled with visions of the blue-skinned horrors rampaging across the human sphere, a plague in shining black armor, killing everyone in their path. She heard the cries of rage and pain as men and women fought the enemy for their lives, defending their homes, themselves, and their children.

  They fought, yes. And died under the enemy’s sword.

  The thought made her shudder, gooseflesh breaking out all over her skin. She snuggled closer to Ichiro, rearranging his arm so she could lay up against him, her head on his shoulder.

  But as she clung to him, her visions of the loathsome aliens intensified, and Ichiro’s body seemed cold. So cold.

  She began to shiver uncontrollably, and one of her legs throbbed with pain.

  Propping herself up so she could see Ichiro’s face, she saw that it was deathly pale.

  No, not pale, she decided. His face was…fading. He was disappearing before her eyes.

  “Ichiro?” she whispered, her heart hammering with dread.

  His eyes snapped wide open, and he spoke, but it wasn’t his voice. It sounded like Roland Mills.

  “Valentina!”

  * * *

  Steph screamed and blinked her eyes open. She lay there in the dirt, disoriented, wondering where she was.

  Beside her, she saw a young girl staring at something. Then she heard a man, not Ichiro, bellow “No!”

  Turning her head, she saw a huge man in a camouflage uniform running toward an alien warrior, who was standing next to another woman.

  “Valentina,” Steph whispered, recognizing her. But she realized Valentina wasn’t just standing next to the alien. The Kreelan’s s
word was sticking out her friend’s back. “Oh…God…”

  The big man - Mills, she realized, fighting through the fog in her brain - ran at the warrior, who dodged aside. He turned around to attack again, but before he took more than two steps he clutched at his chest as if he were having a heart attack, then crumpled to the ground.

  Beside her, Allison charged the alien, brandishing a sword. But the Kreelan deflected the girl’s sword before knocking her backward. Allison tripped and fell over Steph, sprawling in the dirt beside her.

  Grimacing in the pain from her leg and fighting the dizziness that threatened to again leave her unconscious, Steph reached down to her combat harness and pulled out her knife. Her mind had caught up with the reality around her. She didn’t expect to survive, but wasn’t about to allow the Kreelan to kill her without putting up a struggle.

  “Allison!”

  The girl was next to her in an instant. “Steph? Oh, God…”

  Steph grabbed the girl’s hand and held on. “Listen to me. You need to run. Get away.”

  “No! I’m not leaving you!”

  They both looked up as Mills roared.

  Valentina was on her knees, the warrior standing over her, sword raised, as Mills ran at the Kreelan. Her blade whistled through the air, and the big Marine grunted as the sword slashed deep through his right shoulder, effortlessly slicing through muscle and bone.

  But that didn’t stop him. A hundred and twenty kilograms of solid muscle slammed into the warrior.

  While the warrior was shoved back, right up next to Steph, she somehow managed to stay on her feet.

  Mills grappled with her, his good hand yanking the braids of her hair. He levered her head back and bit into her neck above her collar, his teeth sinking deep into her flesh even as she battered at his head with the handle of her sword.

  Shoving Allison out of the way, Steph cried out in pain as she forced herself over on her side, plunging her knife into one of the alien’s sandaled feet and pinning it to the ground.

  With one final, titanic heave, Mills threw the warrior off-balance, and the two of them crashed to the ground.

  * * *

  Allison watched in terror as Mills, blood streaming down his chest from the terrible sword wound, clung desperately to the warrior. Behind them, she could see Valentina, still on her knees, watching the spectacle as her life drained away.

  Allison gripped the alien sword in her hand, determined not to run, but afraid at the end to die.

  That’s when Steph shoved her backward, away from the struggling titans, and rammed her knife into one of the Kreelan’s feet.

  The alien gurgled a cry of pain, half her throat torn out by Mills, before he finally shoved her over, making her fall.

  Right on top of Allison.

  Without thinking, Allison propped up her sword, the handle on the ground. The blade pierced the alien’s back armor as the warrior fell right on top of it, and the glittering tip burst from her chest armor only a few centimeters from Mills’s neck.

  Allison gasped as the Kreelan and Mills slammed down on top of her, driving the air from her lungs. But Allison didn’t have to suffer their full weight. Most of it was supported by the handle of the sword.

  After a moment, the weight lifted as Mills rolled off to one side, dragging the Kreelan with him.

  “Bloody hell, girl,” he gasped as he struggled to his knees. “Bloody hell.” Mills grabbed his right shoulder with his left hand, literally holding the flesh together. The sword had cut clean through his collar bone and part of his shoulder blade, and he could tell from the wet rasp of his breathing that his right lung had been punctured, as well.

  He looked up as a shadow fell over him, and Valentina, blood soaking the front of her uniform, slowly sank down beside him. Her face was deathly pale. “Ready for that margarita on the beach?”

  Then she closed her eyes and slumped against his chest.

  “Jesus,” Mills whispered, fighting away the darkness that threatened to take him.

  “You’ve got to get help, Allison.” Steph pointed toward the battlefield, where the sounds of the guns had reached a crescendo of growls, staccato pops, and booms, mixed with the fading roar of the warriors. “Hurry, honey.”

  “Just ask…” Mills could barely get the words out as his right lung filled with blood. His heart was as broken as his body as he cradled Valentina, who lay lifeless against him. “Just ask…any Marine…for General Sparks.”

  “General Sparks,” Allison repeated, and Steph nodded.

  But as Allison rose to her feet she felt a clawed hand grip her arm.

  With a cry of fright, she looked down to see the warrior, staring up at her.

  * * *

  Ku’ar-Marekh felt the life flowing from her body. She knew the blade held by the human pup had severed one of the major arteries inside her, and she would bleed to death in but moments.

  Beyond the pain, the thought gave her a sense of peace.

  Instead of the chill she expected as death came for her, she felt a growing warmth. It wasn’t simply a trick of her dying body, but was from the Bloodsong. She could sense it more fully as her blood soaked the loose earth beneath her. She began to feel the emotions of her sisters again.

  And the Ancient Ones. She could sense them now, as well. All who had lived and died since the days of the First Empress were bound in spirit to She Who Reigned. Ku'ar-Marekh could feel them now, as clearly as those who now fought and died against the humans here on this world.

  The humans. She had not expected them to best her, but she did not regret their victory.

  The small one, the child who had held the killing blade, was next to her. As the child made to stand up, Ku’ar-Marekh reached out and took her arm.

  The young human made a small noise of fear and surprise, but did not attempt to flee.

  Ku’ar-Marekh released the child’s arm and instead held out her hand, palm up. Much to her surprise, the human slowly took it.

  “In Her name, may thy Way be long and glorious, little one.”

  Giving the human’s hand a gentle squeeze, Ku’ar-Marekh let go before closing her eyes and letting the warmth of death enfold her.

  * * *

  Allison had no idea what the alien had said, but in the moment that she spoke her final words, her eyes changed. Allison saw life in them, just before they closed for the final time.

  As the alien’s hand slipped away, Allison stood up and ran as fast as she could toward the sound of the guns.

  * * *

  Many light years away, the Empress stood upon the dais at the top of the pyramid of steps in the great throne room on the Empress Moon. She cast Her eyes upward, beyond the transparent crystal that formed the top of the gigantic pyramid that housed the palace, looking out at the stars.

  And at one, in particular. With a second sight that could see beyond time and space, She watched Ku’ar-Marekh’s last battle, and felt the priestess’s pain as the sword pierced her.

  The Empress opened Her heart wide as Ku’ar-Marekh’s life bled away, releasing her spirit from the bonds of life, and the last priestess of the Nyur-A’il took her place among the Ancient Ones.

  Across the vast stretches of the Empire, a vast wave was cast through the Bloodsong, an echo of the sorrow of the Empress.

  CHAPTER SEVENTY-SIX

  Allison had never run so far, so fast. Exhausted as she was, she knew that every second counted, and that the lives of her three friends depended on her. Even as she sucked air into her lungs, she bit her lip to drive away the fear that they would all be dead by the time she could get help.

  She had never seen so much blood on a person who was still alive as she’d seen on both Mills and Valentina. And while Steph’s wound wasn’t as bad, she’d been bleeding a long time now. All three of them, Mills especially, looked like something right out of a vid about zombies that she had seen once with her older brother.

  God, please don’t let them die. She forced herself to go just a littl
e faster, wishing with every step that she had Race, her brave, dead horse to carry her. Wishing the Kreelans had never come to her world. Wishing them all to Hell.

  As she ran, heading right down the road past her farm, she came upon more and more bodies. Most of them were Kreelans, but there were many humans, too. Marines, like Mills.

  And there were ships, both human and Kreelan. Many of the wrecks still burned, while others were nothing more than smoking piles of melted metal and plastic, surrounded by bits of debris. The stench of it, combined with the smell of blood and other bodily things she didn’t want to even think about, made her want to gag.

  Around her, there were no cries for help or screams of agony from the wounded or the dying. None here, human or Kreelan, were left alive. The humans had all been killed, and the Kreelans, she had read, committed suicide. None had ever been taken alive.

  With a yelp, she dove to the ground as a stream of cannon shells whipped past her, stray rounds from the fight up ahead.

  She looked up after a moment, and found herself next to a Kreelan warrior whose dead, sightless eyes were open, as if staring at her.

  “Get up, Allison!” She looked away from the nightmarish blue face, mustering the courage to go on. She couldn’t stop. Too much depended on her.

  With a grimace, forcing herself to not be sick from the horror around her, she pushed herself up from the sticky pool of blood that the road had become and again started running.

  Mills, Valentina, and Steph. I have to save them. I won’t let them die. She kept repeating that mantra, over and over, with every step through the nightmare landscape around her.

  She slowed momentarily as the gunfire, which had become deafening the closer she’d come to the battle, began to taper off, then stopped.

  The silence that descended gave her a chill until she heard something she hadn’t heard in what seemed like years: people cheering. She could see Marines on their big tanks and on the ground, holding up their arms and giving voice to their victory.

  “We’ve won!”

  The thought gave her a new burst of energy, and she ran toward the tank that was nearest her.