by Josh Collins
“Your point?”
“Prove that you deserve it,” Alvarez told him, turning and leaving Burns to his own concerns. The comment did take Burns back a little bit, but he wasn’t quite sure he knew what the man meant. He had other problems right now; he’d figure out rhymes and riddles later. Turning, he headed for the lift at the end of the crosscut and took the lift up to the top.
Arriving, he feared that he was already too late to catch Carmen, so he began to run. He ran past the motor pool and up the original slant that led into the mine. She could have been long gone by now, but he had to catch her.
Sprinting as fast as he could, he soon approached the exit. Entering the wide-open expanse of the mountains once again, his eyes had to adjust to the sudden sunlight, which didn’t make his search for Carmen any easier. He stopped running and began to look as far and as wide as he could. He was at a high spot, so he could see for miles. Only, she wasn’t that far away.
He soon spotted her, walking alone down the rocky path they’d arrived on.
“Carmen!” he yelled after her. She turned around and looked visibly troubled.
“Go away,” she growled, continuing to walk down the hill.
“What’s going on?” he asked, running after her again. She didn’t respond as she kept walking. “Carmen?” he asked again. This time she stopped and looked at him from over her shoulder.
“You once said I didn’t look like a bad guy. Did you mean it?” she asked.
This stopped him in his tracks. He looked down and realized that he was gripping his submachine gun as tightly as ever and the safety was off. He looked back up at her, frustrated with how he’d acted.
He didn’t know what her allegiance was, but she’d treated him with kindness this entire mission. Even if she was ULC, she didn’t deserve to be chased down with guns ready to fire. He dropped both of his weapons and then removed his helmet, throwing that on the ground alongside them.
“So what’s going on?” he asked as he approached her. She stayed in place this time and allowed him to get close. Though she still appeared to be ready to run at any moment.
“Colonel, I need to tell you something,” she started, looking back down the hill toward the beautiful snowy range below.
“What?” he asked, afraid of the answer. He was beginning to wish he hadn’t taken off his helmet.
She looked back up at him, into his eyes. He looked right back, trying to get a reading. He could see that she was worried but also that she was quickly coming to a conclusion. Just then, she lunged forward a bit, closing the gap between them. At first, Burns was stunned. He couldn’t believe she’d attacked him, but then he realized she hadn’t. They were kissing, or she was at least.
It worked though. Instantly, any apprehension he’d had about her being a part of the ULC was gone. In his experience, terrorists didn’t kiss the enemy. Not like this. This wasn’t a diversion. He could tell that she only wanted comfort. He began to really regret the yelling and chasing. She slightly backed up and looked at the ground.
“I’m sorry,” she mumbled, regretting the violation of personal space.
“It’s alright,” he assured her. “If anyone should be sorry, it’s me. I shouldn’t have come barreling out, ready to fire.” She didn’t seem to want to take this apology.
“No,” she said, “I gave you little choice—I deserve it. I should have been more honest.”
“Well, I’m here now,” he told her. “If you want to get it off your chest, go ahead. I won’t do anything,” he ensured. She nodded back to him and then swallowed hard.
“I—I knew that Gambi was here—” she paused, trying to collect her thoughts. She looked back down the hill, contemplating her options. She then sighed once more and looked back up at Burns. “I knew he was here because I’m not who I say I am...fully,” she said this quickly, trying to get it out as fast as possible in order to lessen the damage. This only confused Burns.
“Then who are you?” he asked.
“They call me Shamera,” she told him. Burns squinted his eyes.
“They?” he asked.
“Criminals. Mob bosses. Anyone who paid...I was an assassin for hire,” she told him. Burns looked at her with sympathetic eyes. He knew what she was feeling. A moral dilemma between who you are and who you say you are. He had felt that many times.
“So, why are you here?” he asked, trying to ascertain her threat to the operation.
“Well, the thing about those types of people is that they tend to hold grudges,” she started. “You pull off enough jobs, and eventually everyone looking to hire you is someone that is also looking to kill you. I needed out—a new identity. I couldn’t go to the Dominion though; they’d lock me up for life. The mobs own the jails. I go and I’m done.”
“Why don’t you turn state’s evidence?” Burns asked. She only shook her head.
“A reduced term is still a term. You don’t get it. One minute in a cell, and it’s over. That’s why I’m here.”
“Hiding?” he asked. She exhaled deeply, sending a column of frigid, white vapor into the sky.
“Not exactly. I found a minor boss, some upstart called West. He said he’d pull some strings and get me a safe identity. All I had to do was bring someone to him.” Burns clenched his jaw—he knew who that someone was.
“Gambi.”
“Yeah,” she confirmed. “It was my only choice.”
“Yet you’ve stopped,” Burns said. “You say it’s your only choice, but you seem to have found another.” She still looked to be in the grips of a conflict.
“Colonel,” she stammered, “I—I hid in the shadows while you were being overwhelmed in the village. I needed you to trust me, so I waited until they were about to kill you. How could I? How could I continue to use you like that? It’s wrong...it’s too wrong.” Burns lowered his head in agreement. He would have had to agree it was wrong. A few days ago, possibly even a few hours ago, he would have given up on her. He would have run away from her problems and let her drown under them. Not now though. This mission had shown him what was right, and he would never run again. She needed him, and so he was going to be there for her.
“I think we’ve all done things that are too wrong. Why else would they call us Reapers?” he lightly joked, momentarily putting a smile on her troubled face. “The thing is,” he continued, “you don’t need to go through with this. You’ve got a team now. We know the price of leaving things behind—of running away. We know that, at the end of the day, it ends up catching you. We’ve been through this, all of this, and if you think I’m going to let criminals or the Collective or anyone hurt a teammate, then you’ve got another thing coming,” he said with a smile as the frozen winds of Silverset blew her loosened, black bangs about. She looked up at him, much like the blonde woman in the village—with a little bit more hope than she’d had before.
“So, you won’t divulge this to Index...or Control?” she asked. Burns shook his head.
“As long as you promise to assist us wholeheartedly in bringing the United Liberty Collective to justice, I will have no reason to,” he promised.
“Done,” she confirmed. He smiled and put out a hand.
“Welcome aboard officially—” he paused, forgetting what she’d called herself.
“Shamera,” she reminded, giving his hand a hearty shake. “So, do we have our soldiers yet?” she asked, referencing Alvarez’s job and the mission.
“No,” Burns answered, looking back down the mountain and remembering the details of what they had to do. He let out a sigh. “Alvarez seems to think—”
“Forget Alvarez,” she cut him off. “You’re the Colonel, and we’re the Reapers. They built that fort good, but they didn’t build it us-good.” He nodded back to her, feeling his spirits lift a little bit. She was right, but more than that, she had helped him figure out what Alvarez had meant when he mentioned owning the title of colonel. He turned and began heading back into the mine.
“To get us some soldiers,” he answered.
SACRIFICES
Burns and Shamera hurried back into the mine and down the lift. It was the same dark descent as before, except this time it didn’t seem so desolate. Instead of feeling the walls closing in, Burns could only feel a light, chilly breeze. He could feel the opportunity. Silverset may just stand a chance at being free.
The lift then opened up to the ill-lit halls of the third crosscut. As they debarked, they were instantly greeted by Brosi.
“Colonel,” he immediately addressed, “I’m sorry that I kept that information from you. I was just trying to do what was right.” He seemed sincere. Burns supposed Brosi wasn’t like most of the people that kept info hidden. The fact that he’d felt bad about it and was making a genuine apology was enough.
“It’s fine, Brosi,” he ensured, walking forward some more.
“No, it’s not,” Brosi stated, stopping him. “I came down because of the injustice LME was doing. I can’t start making the same mistakes,” he explained. Burns gained a slight smirk, moving forward and putting his hand on Brosi’s shoulder.
“Didn’t I tell you to stay out of this conflict?” he playfully grumbled. Brosi gained an unsure smile.
“I suppose you did. Though, even with Rhett gone and the lies I’ve told, I still wouldn’t prefer it any other way. We’ve all done more of a service here than I ever did at LME. I finally feel like I belong,” he admitted.
“Well,” Burns sighed, “let’s hope the Survivors see it that way.” Brosi nodded back. They really were a big gamble. Everything hinged on them joining.
Continuing on to the center of the crosscut, they began to see a mass of soldiers all huddled around Alvarez, who was trying, to no avail, to rouse their spirits. They sat, nearly forty of them, and seemed to equally find his words distasteful.
“Men, please,” he pleaded, “we need to take that fort. We signed up and we have a duty,” he insisted. One of the Survivors, an aging man about Burns’ age, pushed through the crowd to the front.
“None of us have a duty to follow civilians into the fight!” he shouted. The entire crosscut then erupted in a howl of cheers. This was a volatile moment; they might lose their soldiers if they acted wrong. Another, much younger, Survivor piped up.
“Yeah, the Colonel is just some Intelligence puppet. Why should we risk our lives on a lie? If the Dominion wants us to fight, drop down some actual soldiers!” he exclaimed. The crowd hollered again. Burns looked at Alvarez. The man seemed at a loss for words. He didn’t know how to get them on the right path of thinking. Perhaps he was even considering what his men were saying to be true.
Burns then realized that Brosi had moved forward and pushed his way out of the crowd.
“At least Colonel Burns is trying to continue the fight,” he began, “the fight that you’ve all given up on. People are being slaughtered out there, and you poor excuses for soldiers are hiding in a cave.” The words echoed around the crosscut but didn’t elicit any cheers. The older Survivor then stepped up to Brosi.
“Look at this,” he teased. “We have an action hero in our ranks. He thinks war is a game—he wants to be a hero. Let me tell you something, there are no heroes!” Brosi stood his ground, despite the mocking.
“Really? ‘Cause I know a man who’d disagree.”
“He’s right,” one of the refugees suddenly exclaimed, backing up Brosi.
“What do you know?” the older Survivor grumbled back at her. Much like Brosi, she didn’t back down.
“I know that the Colonel saved my life!” she announced. Burns then saw the many bruises across her face. He couldn’t believe it. This was the woman he’d saved in the village.
Another civilian then gained courage and stepped out from the crowd.
“I can attest to what she’s saying. Me and my family were being loaded onto a freight truck for execution when the Colonel landed in our village. He took out nearly a dozen Collective and bought us time to escape.” The Survivors began thinking of ways to battle these claims. Another civilian came out of the woodwork.
“I’m a fisherman. I was out working my lines when I saw two of these men run out on the ice. One went in, but they fought bravely against a team of Lobitar hunters,” he explained. The first woman then spoke up once more.
“You see. It doesn’t matter who they are. They are willing to continue the fight, and they are willing to sacrifice themselves to save Silverset.” The Survivors still silently considered what they were saying. Their minds were ready to accept the mission.
“No one is forcing you to fight,” Burns said as he stepped out of the crowd, “certainly not me. I didn’t drop down to pull rank and delegate—I dropped down to stop the Collective. The mission hasn’t always gone the way I’d like, but I’ve been doing the best I can. We all have. I’m not going to lie—we’ve suffered some heavy casualties, and I’m sure the coming assault will be no different. Nevertheless, I’m heading to Fort Ledger. If you’re with me, you’re with me. If not, I’ll gladly take the burden alone,” he finished as he turned around and put on his helmet.
“I’m with you, Colonel,” Brosi confirmed, putting on his helmet as well.
“Me too,” Shamera added. Those two were a given. Despite the words and testimonials, the Survivors hadn’t made a peep. Burns began to walk to the lift again. His teammates began to follow. They seemed to keep their heads down, like they were being walked off stage in humiliation.
“I’m with you, Colonel” Alvarez said, suddenly breaking the silence. Burns stopped and turned, looking at the Lieutenant. He loaded a rifle and then pushed his way out of the crowd to join Burns and the crew. Some of the others looked at him like he was an idiot. Others seemed to be struggling with the urge to fight. The fisherman then spoke up.
“I don’t know a thing about soldiering, but I’ll follow you to the gates of hell, Colonel!” he exclaimed, making his decision. Burns then saw a noticeable shift in the Survivors. They were now being upstaged by actual civilians. Mere fishermen. They began to look around at each other, wondering who was going to make the first move.
“I’m with you,” a very young Survivor stated, starting a chain reaction. Like a snowball being pushed down a hill, little by little they began confessing their loyalty to the Colonel.
At first, the pauses between confirmations were long, but it quickly got shorter until they were talking over each other. Pretty soon it was down to the last man. The older Survivor, with the biggest gripes.
“Fodor?” Alvarez asked. The man stood alone now. He had no crowd to back him up.
“Ah, hell,” the man grumbled. “I’m with you,” he confirmed, rousing a thunderous clap from the others.
They were all with Burns, the entire army of Survivors.
Burns gained a smile, a true smile—something he hadn’t had in quite some time. His teammates stood at his back, reveling in their very first victory. The three of them were no longer outcasts. They were heroes. Alvarez approached.
“Good work, Colonel,” he saluted. Burns slightly saluted back to him, glad that the man had finally recognized his given title as a proper rank.
It seemed that maybe Control actually had known what he was doing when he’d selected Burns for the position. Maybe they hadn’t picked him specifically for his strife with Gambi. Perhaps he was here because he was the best for the job… perhaps. Shamera then stepped up.
“So, Colonel, how do you intend to take that fort?” she asked, returning some practicality to the moment. The others began to wonder that too.
Burns wouldn’t let it be known, but he was planning on sacrificing himself. He would march up to the gates of the Fort and surrender. The ULC would be too elated at having captured a Reaper to pay attention to the others sneaking in from the side.
“I had an idea on that,” Brosi blurted, interrupting Burns thou
ghts.
“What’s that?” Burns asked.
Brosi pulled a small cartridge from one of his belt pouches.
“This here is the complete version of our armor. A full load,” he told them. Burns and Shamera were caught off guard.
“How’d you—what?” Burns stammered.
“I didn’t trust them. I suppose it was wrong, but I figured there might be a time the galaxy needed this. I just didn’t realize it’d get so desperate so soon,” he explained. Burns pulled Brosi off to the side.
“Have you thought this through?” Burns asked.
“I’ve thought about it a lot. I thought about it when Rhett and I were being hunted. I thought about it when the three of us were in that blizzard. It didn’t seem worth the risk then. Now it does,” he finished.
“Agreed,” Burns concurred, “but not your risk, kid,” he added, still playing the sacrifice tactic.
“Colonel, it’ll kill you,” Brosi warned.
“Yeah, probably,” Burns shrugged. “but you have people back home.” Begrudgingly, Brosi handed over the cartridge.
Holding it in his hand, Burns found it strange that something so small could contain so much power.
“Right,” Burns said, putting the cartridge in one of his own pouches, “let’s get to work.”
ASSAULT OF FORT LEDGER
Looking out from the small, square window of an armored Vanquisher, Burns watched as the peaceful cool of the mountains was slowly replaced by the dreadful snow of the foothills, and soon after, the icy tundra of the wastes. It wasn’t very pretty, but he did find solace in the fact that he wasn’t on the run anymore. He and his team were preparing for an attack, with an army of surviving Dominion soldiers backing them up. Yet Burns still had concerns.
They were going up against Fort Ledger. Military historians had written books on its genius. It was nearly impenetrable. Burns just hoped his boosted armor would even the odds.
The boosted armor wasn’t really the whole strategy though. It was merely a diversion. The real strategy was what was going on around the edges.