The Antithesis- The Complete Pentalogy

by Terra Whiteman

  “No, this call is to inform you that scans are showing an army of enemy aerocraft approaching us from the south. At their current speed and trajectory, they will engage us in four minutes.”

  A pincer attack. Gomorrah from the west, nukers from the south, trying to drive us north. I hated to think what waited for us in that direction.

  “Send as many jets as we can afford,” I ordered. “Keep them away for as long as you can. Ezekiel remains east-bound.”

  “Sir,” acknowledged Seyestin, cutting the line.

  Alarms that called for artillery stations to be manned along the deck resonated across the ship. This song of war made my technicians pause, looking up toward the speaker with nervous anticipation. I called for them to keep their concentrations; our deadline had just been cut in half.

  Four minutes later the smasher was being lifted past the fourth tier, en route to the engines room. At the same time Ezekiel began to rumble as artillery bursts from topside announced the battle’s arrival. I kept my footing as bullets and missiles rained against our shield, rocking the ship. The smasher teetered, but chains meant to keep it fixed on the platform held fast. We all breathed a sigh of relief. And then, I heard:

  “There’s no end to them, Yahweh.” Seyestin. “East-bound is suicide. We won’t hold against so many jets. All of our cavalry is on Gomorrah.”

  “Reinforcements are approaching from Lohr. We can hold that long.”

  “No, we can’t. Not unless I go out there and lead them, Sir.”

  “We’ve spoken about this already. I won’t have executive officials offing themselves for morale.”

  “Qaira, Adrial and Belial are front-lining Gomorrah.”

  “Two thirds of them are Vel’Haru. Not the same.”

  “Commander, if I don’t lead aerial strike we will be scattered and shot down. I am an Argent General, not your Command Center specialist. I am confused as to why you continue to keep me out of harm’s way when my sole job is to be in harm’s way for the safety of Heaven.”

  It was a while before I responded, too exhausted to argue any longer. “Do what you must, General Trede. But I command you not to die.”

  Silence.

  “Do you hear me? That is an order. If you die I will thereby denounce your name and rank, placing you forever on charges of insubordination, even in death.”

  “Sir,” Seyestin acknowledged, finally. “Orders received. I am placing Senior Analyst Attenyau as Steer of Central Command. I will continue to update aerial status once I’m off the ship.”

  I didn’t respond, and he cut the call. I swallowed the emotions crawling up my throat. Cereli was already gone. If Seyestin followed suit, I would never forgive myself.

  They’d never understood sentiments; love had been reserved only for each other. I was one hundred percent certain that General Trede’s care for my well-being stemmed only from the rooted sense of duty to serve Heaven. My personality, world-views, philosophies and even character all meant nothing to him. It was only recently that I’d proven myself capable of being able to partake in dangerous endeavors such as this. Before then he or his sister had chaperoned me everywhere. I’d been the Young Commander to them, prematurely forced to take a seat at High Court.

  And just as I proved them wrong, Cereli died for me. It made me wonder if I’d proven them right.

  I forced myself back to reality, heading for the command station to oversee the installation of the smasher control system into the engine drives. The ambush from the south had slowed our eastward retreat and Gomorrah’s shadow could be seen through the skyline of icy fog, closing the distance we’d fought so hard to gain.

  The situation was dire. Even if we could protect ourselves from another of Gomorrah’s bombs, our hull was now under threat of artillery bursts from demon destroyer jets. I did my very best to hide the panic rising within. I avoided looking out at the ensuing battle, instead focusing only on the anti-matter shield. One thing at a time.

  Everyone followed cue. The terror in the air was thick, palpable, but we acted calmly—robotically, even.

  Flames from the sky illuminated the room through the observatory glass, our skin alit in red haze. A smoking jet hit the shield right above our station, an explosion and sonic boom wreaking havoc upon us. The holosphere at central command warned us that Ezekiel’s shields were about to fail. From what I could see there were thousands of jets swarming the sky around our ship like furious insects. Our own defenses were scattered, outnumbered. Fifty thousand were heading to our aid, but at this rate they’d arrive too late.

  “How long until activation?” I called to my team.

  Attenyau’s troubled gaze left the command panel, meeting my own. “We’re waiting for it to upload. There’s a lot of code, Commander.”

  “I’m placing you in charge of this operation. If the shield is not activated in five minutes, we will all die.”

  That did not help Attenyau’s nerves.

  Although what I said had been the absolute truth, the sudden guilt I felt to see him trembling as he rushed back to work made me regret saying anything. I was not used to having to put things lightly, or say it in ways in which it didn’t abjectly affect a person’s emotional well-being.

  Likewise, I’d never been aboard a war ship in the middle of an aerial missile battle, trying to make everyone understand the importance of haste while at the same time keeping them from urinating on themselves.

  I was a fool to have thrown everyone at Gomorrah.

  I was going to kill my entire fleet.

  Calm down.

  Calm down,

  Calm down.

  “I want aerial strike at the bow. Our halo is destabilizing,” I said, taking to the observatory deck. I stood in full view of the flaming skyline, indigo light rippling over the shield as we took hit after hit.

  Wind from the downdraft beat my face. I didn’t flinch; I was now allowed courage. My fleet saw their Commander exposed. They worked harder, faster, their fear replaced with veracity.

  Two dozen of our jets roared by, grouping to protect the bow.

  “General Trede, report!”

  ***

  Seyestin Trede—;

  “General Trede, report!”

  It was difficult to report while five different enemy craft were shooting at you; however he was the Commander, therefore I must obey.

  “Commander, I am currently still alive and leading a team toward the source of the swarm. We’ve detected several aerocraft carriers hiding along the escarpment. We are en route now; I have nothing more to report.”

  Static.

  His response was choppy, which meant Ezekiel’s shields were compromised. I didn’t bother to respond; I knew he wouldn’t hear me. Yahweh was now left to defend Ezekiel on his own. My initial reaction to this thought was to turn around.

  My arms jerked as I resisted pulling on the steer.

  Rushing to his help would do nothing but prolong an inevitable defeat. The only way of any victory now was downing the craft carriers before Ezekiel fell. There were five hundred strikers positioned behind my craft, ready for a signal. Even the largest of demon carriers couldn’t stand against a shower of beta-ionic missiles.

  The shadows of the colossal carriers grew clearer as we approached. They had lodged themselves between mountains at the southern border. Red and yellow lights flickered from their ports as they spewed more craft in our direction, rocking the sky like thunder.

  My team shared warnings of incoming jets. I handled their repositioning. They were more than agile, but the constant strikes thinned the herd. I lost fifty pilots and twenty drones in two minutes.

  We moved in range of a lock.

  I ordered the strike.

  ***

  Qaira Eltruan—;

  Avarice staggered back, licking her wounds. The bodies of her soldiers were laying at my feet. I had to use up all of my suit’s juice to heal during the onslaught; now my armor was just for decoration.

  Praetor threatened m
e with a shaking tranq gun, but for some reason she was reluctant to shoot. I assumed there was only one left in the chamber, and she wasn’t certain if I could dodge a shot at point blank. She was the toughest fight I’d had in Hell, but my wounds were already healing; hers were permanent. Nothing was a match for Vel’Haru.

  “When are you going to learn to stop fucking with me?” My hand whirred, smacking the weapon out of her hand. The other reached for her throat, pinning her to the wall. I leaned in. “What’s with the death wish, hm?”

  Avarice just laughed and spat blood across my visor. I unleashed a scythe, preparing for the kill, but something shocked me. Literally shocked me, like a taser.

  I recoiled, falling to my knees. Avarice lunged for her gun.

  “That’s enough,” said a voice from the dock. “I can take it from here.”

  Calenus.

  Despite his heed, Avarice aimed the tranq gun at me. “Let me do it once; it won’t kill him.”

  Calenus hesitated, which made me snarl at him in disgust.

  He smiled. “Thank you for your service, Praetor Delvori, but I don’t deal in unnecessary punishment.”

  Her eyes were filled with so much hate, it was mesmerizing. They teared up at Calenus’s rejection, despair heaping upon rage. Finally Avarice succumbed, retreating into the hangar’s canopy.

  I watched her exit, unable to do anything else. My limbs were still trembling from the psychokinetic attack. Well aware of the futility, I kept trying to stand.

  “Can we end this mess yet?” asked Calenus, watching me writhe. “Or do you wish to keep suffering?”

  “So, you’re working with Lucifer now. I distinctly remember some kind of bullshit rhetoric from you regarding not involving ourselves in Lesser affairs.”

  “Even you can’t believe this is still just a Lesser affair. Stop fighting and come quietly. The Atrium is officially unsalvageable at this point, thanks to you.”

  “Thanks to me?” I shouted. “This war was started by celestials; it is fueled by celestials. I came to you first, and you turned me away. Thank yourself for not giving me anything.”

  Calenus’s fist cracked the side of my face. I lost my footing, and my head hit the docking gate on my way to the floor. Pain was mingled with the warm sensation of blood flowing down my face. Before I could react he ripped what was left of my visor off and wrapped an arm around my neck. I felt the serrated edge of one of his scythes against my spine. There was another shock involved for good measure. My eyes rolled into my head and I fought consciousness.

  “I am done exchanging words with you,” he whispered in my ear. “Open your mouth again and I’ll cut out your tongue.”

  I couldn’t be taken back to Exo’daius; this time there would be no escape.

  There was someone who could clean up this mess in a second flat, but I was too proud to call for her. She’d abandoned us, and calling for her help would be a type of humiliation that I couldn’t live with.

  A rifle blast erupted above, from such a close range it reverberated my skull.

  Calenus’s grip loosened, and I was suddenly covered in blood that wasn’t mine.

  I looked up just as he was coming down. Half of Calenus’s face was missing, the remaining portion black and charred.

  I wiped viscera off my face, retching.

  “What are you doing?!” yelled Belial. “Come on!”

  I turned, surprised. He was on an aRAVE that hovered above the hangar. The barrel of his pulse rifle was still smoking, its recharge function activated. He’d just landed a headshot on the King of Exo’daius.

  Calenus was already healing. I could see the muscles and soft tissue of his face rethreading themselves, reforming over the gaping wound. This was my chance.

  I staggered to my feet, aiming my scythe at Calenus’s chest.

  Belial, realizing what I was planning, demanded that I get on the bloody, fucking aRAVE.

  I snarled, ignoring him.

  All he understood was the consequences that might arise should Enigmus lose its King. Sure, everyone there would be angry but they were nothing compared to their leader. With Calenus gone, half of my problems were solved.

  But something stopped me from plunging my scythe into his heart.

  I froze, scythe raised over my head. The hatred I felt—my drive to kill—was ambushed by flashbacks of Sanctum.

  My overdose.

  Tae.

  Calenus freeing me from that chair on the cold, blood-soaked ground.

  Sanctum’s collapse.

  My scythe shook.

  No, this was for Leid; to let him live was to let her die.

  I clenched my teeth and closed my eyes, fighting my honor for the deed. Belial screamed a warning, rousing me from my trance.

  “Look out!”

  Something knocked my scythe out of the air, the whiplash nearly breaking my arm. I was still trying to see what had attacked me when Belial cursed, opening fire.

  ***

  Adriel Trisyien—;

  I coughed, waking myself from the coma in which Zira had placed me.

  I was alone on the control room floor, pebbles of obsidian that had once been my teeth were strewn about. I winced and ran my tongue across the regenerated ones.

  Alarm systems blared, the engines were fully restored and the launch module had been calibrated. Another bomb was ready to fire.

  I hadn’t the slightest clue why Zira didn’t kill me; what I did have was a mission to complete, so thoughts on him sparing my life would have to take a back seat for now. Qaira was still missing in action. I would have to go at this alone.

  Anyone who may have known the password to Gomorrah’s power system was dead; the rest had fled during the fight with Zira. The only choice was to shut down the command terminal and disable the engines. No engines, no halo, no power to launch a bomb—;

  At least, that was the logic from someone who had absolutely no experience with celestial tech. I could not digitally enter the command terminal to shut it down because, again, I did not have any way of accessing it. It was time to fall back on that iconic savagery everyone balked about.

  Primitive, but reliable.

  My scythes hacked away at the control board, slicing through sheets of steel and silicon-insulated wiring, sparks flying in every direction. Within a matter of moments, every terminal, every piece of digital equipment capable of activating another bomb, was annihilated. At least within here.

  I stepped over the debris-covered bodies and headed for the hall.

  Qaira, I have absolutely no idea where you are.

  Nothing.

  I began to navigate down the lift, toward the bottom floor that held Gomorrah’s engine room.

  I suppose I’ll forgive you if you’re dead.

  —I’m not dead.

  I breathed a sigh of relief. Then you’re a selfish prick.

  —Fuck you. Calenus is aboard the ship; he stopped by to say hello.

  Yes, I know. His guardian knocked me unconscious and then left… for some reason.

  —Probably to save his precious noble before I shoved a scythe through his face. I left Zira with his wounded King. What’s your status?

  The control room is rubble. I’m heading for the engines room to bring this goddess down.

  —You’re going to sink the ship?

  I caught a glimpse of Ezekiel’s silhouette through the fire and smoke over the dark horizon. We were closing in and it looked as if the Archaean warship had issues of her own. Whatever it takes to keep them from unloading another bomb.

  Qaira scoffed. Yeah, but we’re on the ship.

  It always works out, relax.

  —And I’m the reckless one. How deep are you?

  Sublevel four and falling. Why?

  —Keep your guard up; you’ll be facing more than a dozen crew and soldiers once you get off that lift. Our team hasn’t made it there.

  Yes, I can sense heat signatures, too. But I appreciate your concern.

  After a while,
Qaira laughed. Here we are again, you and me, his thoughts felt strained, tearing these motherfuckers up, possibly dying in the process.

  Such is life.

  We left it at that.

  ***

  Samnaea Soran—;

  There was an explosion and my eyes shot open. The room spun, I felt nauseous.

  I couldn’t breathe.

  I clutched my chest as the room shook again; bits of ceiling were peppered on my face and something across the room fell over.

  I was in a fancy suite, on a soft bed. There had been a glass of water sitting on the night table. It was now a pile of wet shards scattered across the floor.

  And then I remembered what Yahweh had done, but that was all. My memories stopped at the infirmary. Anything and everything that had happened since were lost.

  “Let’s keep you relaxed and honest.”

  I shuddered, trying not to retch as yet another explosion shook the room. Still confused, my instincts kicked in and I darted across the room. We were being attacked.

  The sliding door was sealed and digitally locked. I banged on the metal surface, hoping someone was stationed outside.

  “Hey, let me out!” I cried, fear rising in my throat as my plea garnered no response.

  At that moment the ship tilted, sending half the furniture sliding into the wall. The clang that followed was deafening, and something crushed my ankle. The pain was so severe that I saw spots in my eyes.

  By now I was in full survival mode.

  The pain was suddenly gone and I climbed up the furniture through gritted teeth, clawing for the door that was now practically on the ceiling.

  And then the ship tilted again, stabilizing. I crouched into a fetal position as the bed, night table, bookshelves and cabinet all rained upon me. Somehow, everything missed.

  I heard a whir; the lights went out.

  They came back on a second later, and a beep occurred behind me.

  I looked toward the door. The lock and its computer systems had been deactivated.