The Deian War: Conquest (11 page)

   He had no way of knowing how far they were underground now, but when he saw a glint of light ahead, Jun began to wonder if any of the rumours about the Guard
’s use of the wall had been accurate in even the slightest degree.

THE CORRIDOR GRADUALLY widened enough that the captain overtook Jun. The Senator was more than happy to let him do so, because frankly he didn’t want to be the first to arrive wherever they were going. He wasn’t even sure if they were still in the Senate grounds or if the tunnel had taken them beyond the wall to somewhere…different.

   Regardless, all Jun cared about was getting
the answers to this riddle. He could feel danger all around him, but he couldn’t tell who or what it came from and that unsettled him even more. There were torches hung lighting their way and as they moved forwards he could hear faint whispers. He was close to deciphering the distant, murmuring noises into the conversation they formed when the captain suddenly stopped and turned.

   “
…There is no reason to be afraid of him, even if it seems that way at first” he smiled reassuringly.

   Jun wanted to scream
“Who is this he?!?”
but he didn’t think it was a wise idea. It was not his choice that had brought him here, but someone else’s. To strike out at them now would be asking for trouble. He gave a nervous smile back and when Ashdown moved to the side, opening his arm in a gesture that told Jun to go first despite his fears, a room warmed by light was revealed to him.

   Waiting in there was a group of official figures all crowded around something…or
someone
. With a prod from Ashdown, Jun took a tentative step toward them and found himself walking further, his curious feet moving before his cautious mind could prevent them.

   The room with its four dull brick walls was surprisingly welcoming in contrast to the ominous corridor that had brought him here. In one corner was a brazier that filled the space with heat. There were no doors or other secrets in waiting; just this one place, big enough to fit a few dozen people, but holding only half of that number now.

   As Jun cast his eyes around, he noticed odd shapes and peculiarities to the bricks that made up the walls. He saw Ashdown go and talk to one of the individuals in the centre of the room and realised he recognised them. It was Karhl, another Junior Senator like him, but he couldn’t fathom what he was doing down here. When some of the other figures turned to see who had entered their domain, he was shocked to see an array of senators from all kinds of offices and functions.

   He remembered what the captain had said,
‘The ones like us’
. Jun suspected he could see now what Ashdown had meant, but something still didn’t make sense about his comment. The men in this room were all like him in respect to being a member of the Senate, but how then were they like the captain? He was about to voice his question when he saw that the group of Senators were watching him as if waiting for someone to speak.

   With a chill up his spine he could see that they wanted to say something, but they all held back as though an unspoken instruction had been given. Then it dawned on him that the mysterious
‘him’
the captain mentioned had yet to be shown. Was he behind the Senators? Was there a leader among them that had been talking before he entered and interrupted their clandestine meeting?

   “Is this the last of yo
u?” a deep, distant voice asked, seemingly confirming his assumptions. In reality it came from behind the Senators, yet it sounded like it had come from worlds away.

   Jun thought somehow the question was directed at him and that he ought to answer, but before he could the captain had already replied. “It is, sire. He is the last of us”.

  Jun let out an incoherent stammer and gasp as he thought to ask what the hell was going on, but the unseen stranger choked his opportunity. “Then we should begin, for there is little time left to act”.

  
The group of Senators parted upon that particular phrase and revealed the mysterious figure that had been hidden by them. Jun couldn’t believe his eyes and blinking several times didn’t help to convince his mind of what he was seeing. At the back of the room, sitting on an old crate with a level of comfort that suggested frequent use, was a man with a presence so profound that Jun felt both immediately intimidated and at ease.

  
Jun was so distracted by the individual in armour, which was so black it hid the real shape of his body, that he never saw the irregular shapes in the walls finally resolve themselves into something real. In a heartbeat, the headcount in the room had doubled.

  
As the uncovered men and women assembled themselves into an audience for the austere soldier, whose motionless lips threatened to unleash his powerful voice on Jun again, his patience for their games finally ran out. Though he was awestruck by what he had just seen, as few individuals could claim to see people materialise out of thin air without condemnation of being insane, he wanted answers.

   “Who
are you, legionnaire?” he asked, for the leader could be no other than a Black Guardian of the Apostles’ armies.

  
The legionnaire looked up from the papers that were arrayed at his feet and stared at Jun. His steel-blue eyes were penetrating and unflinching, but it was impossible to tell what he was thinking. The look almost made Jun regret ever asking the question for the stern attention it brought him.

“I am Lucius of the 906th Dawntreaders” the
legionnaire answered.

   Jun was cut-off before he could
ask more questions. “To my right are Tybalt, Galahad, Nerva and Cassiel. On my left are Fendrel, Tariele, Hadrian and Trajan. Does that sate your curiosity?”

The Dawntreaders removed their helmets and Jun was taken aback to see that they all, even the females, had the same silver hair as Lucius. He
laughed nervously in response. “Partly, yes-” he began.

   “Humans always have
it in such great quantity, when you should only have a little to keep yourselves safe” Nerva said. Her eyes were a deep brown and like Lucius she seemed to look through him as if they both doubted that he belonged.

   “You want to know why you are here” Lucius said. It was a blunt statement of fact rather than an attempt to clarify Jun’s next question. Only now did Jun notice that the Senators had still said nothing
and were watching the legionnaires talk to him like they were figures of supreme authority. Perhaps they knew better than him, though. Maybe they already knew when they were supposed to be silent and when the legionnaires would want them to talk.

   “Yes” Jun
agreed needlessly.

   “Must we make it any more obvious?” Fendrel
asked, his voice flat and toneless, belying the true intention of his sharply-meant words.

   “To some, obviously” Nerva replied, never withdrawing her gaze from Jun, making the whole interaction even more uncomfortable for him.

   Then Lucius spoke again and the authority in his speech seemed to diffuse the atmosphere of the room. “You have been brought here for one reason and one alone” he announced, cutting through the tension life a hot knife. “You have begun to wonder about the nature of the man who has power over the entirety of your race. We are here because your suspicions are correct.”

Jun wasn’t given enough time to consider the full meaning of that as Lucius continued without pause. “
This group are the few among your Senate who are not afraid to face the truth, the single reality that threatens to destroy everything the Apostles and my fellow legions are attempting to save. The Lord Governor, the solitary man with absolute power to wield over the Gothican Empire, has been Corrupted and he’s more likely than not been such for a long while”.

   Jun let the words sink in, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t seem to believe what he had heard. On the one hand, all his fears
of being watched by hostile eyes seemed ridiculous and made him feel like a fool for getting it wrong. On the other, reason told him that if the legionnaires thought the same thing about the Lord Governor that he did, then it must be true. Humanity was being led by a madman who could take them in any direction he wanted, including the involvement in a war that the species couldn’t possibly hope to endure in any capacity.

   No longer able to look at Lucius for fear of revealing the
conflicting thoughts tearing through him, he glanced at another of the legionnaires who took up the conversation instead. It was the one named Galahad, if he recalled the hurried introductions correctly.

   “We’re going to kill him Jun,
but we need your help…” Galahad explained, completing the destruction of Jun’s understanding of the world around him.

THANOS STOOD ON the bridge of the
Nighthunter
, the Blackstar of his sister Nightingale and waited for the news he had heard moments ago to settle in his mind.

   “My Lord Cerberus, we have lost Volantia” Azrael had
said. Though he had no cause to be upset with the commander of his legion, Thanos couldn’t help but feel angry and it came out in his terse reply. “Come back to me only when you have good news, Azrael, not a moment before”.

    The holographic
projection of the legionnaire bowed and faded away without any sign of emotional reaction. Thanos regretted his tone almost immediately, but the feeling passed just as quickly. He had to give the Guardians’ of the 73rd Hellhounds credit for their stoicism; he wasn’t the kindest or the most stable of Apostles, but no matter what aspect of himself he threw at them, they served him loyally and without question. He liked to think they understood his nature, Azrael most of all, but he couldn’t fool himself about that all the time, not when he remembered the beast he turned into on the battlefield.

   “You are always so harsh on yourself…”
a ghostly voice sounded behind him.

   Thanos never heard his sister Nightingale arrive on the bridge, but he wasn’t surprised by her ability to appear
undetected. They had served in war against the Phantoms for a year together now out in the Tempest Sector, the north-eastern fringes of the Gothican Empire. He had heard his own troops share stories and tales of her powers and the ways in which her legion fought, but he had personally seen them all validated with his own eyes anyway.

   “And you are always so surprised to witness it” Thanos replied. He turned from the podium that acted as a communications channel for the bridge and saw her take a seat, though with her spectral appearance it looked as though she melded with it.

  
“What happened at Pheia was never your fault, brother…you must learn to move on. All things are transient. All things fade…”

   Thanos crossed his arms, anxious over the memory of it
and closed his eyes. “I should have been on board when it happened Night, you can’t disagree. Maybe I could have saved her, seen the danger before it became too late”.

   Nightingale shook her head sadly.
“No, Thanos. What happened to the
Resolute
was meant to happen. Perhaps only Seraphim could divine the purpose of that fate, maybe only the Lion could reveal the lesson in it, but it cannot be changed. This war will claim more casualties yet”.

   Thanos laughed morbidly. “Though none of them will be us, least of all you.”

   When he said that, she gave him a dark, threatening look that he’d never seen before.
“Bullets may pass through me and blades will never find their mark, but there are more kinds of death than the
physical
”
she bit.
“We would do well to remember that, when all this is over”.

   Thanos felt his ire rise at her harsh tone, but he saw the wisdom in her words and
reluctantly agreed with a nod of his head. He turned to regard the bank of devices on the port side of the bridge. They were an array of holo-projectors and the sight they displayed now was one that he was growing wearisome of.

   Like always it seemed, he looked upon a scene of death and destruction as the Black Guardian legions duelled with a Phantom fleet for control of the planet Erebos. “Will it ever be over, sister? Or are we destined
to fight his conflict forever?”

   This time, Nightingale said nothing.

OUT IN THE cold of space
, Vice-Commander Vulpus of the 73rd Hellhounds fought to outrun a pair of Nightshade fighters. She banked to port and barrel rolled as their guns chased her Voidhawk. She took a glancing hit, causing her cockpit to scream frenzied noises at her. Casting the holo-warnings away with her left hand, she grabbed the joystick again and made her fighter dive towards the nearest Guardian vessel.

   “Need any help, Vice-Commander?” a voice asked over the intercom.

   Since the Phantom craft decided to continue their pursuit, she decided she didn’t. “Everything’s going as planned Aetius, the enemy’s doing my work for me” replied, feeling her lips curling into a smile that the other pilot was never going to see. He could hear it in her voice, though.