The sound of gunfire could be heard nearby, drawing Alex away from his musing. The gunfire was probably in the Alamo District where many small skirmishes seemed to be occurring lately. Jon motioned toward the direction of the shooting, “Likely an engagement of our troops with the neighboring House of War.” Alex nodded in agreement and grimaced at the thought of his neighboring enemies. Jon noticed the glint come into his commander's eye just then, an event that had been remarked upon by many who had known the captain. It was said to occur simultaneously with the rubbing of his hands together, some had called it “ Apollo's Fire .” In the dim twilight, Jon could see an unmistakable gleam enter the pupils of his brother-commander, as if a small fire were being kindled there, bidden by a mysterious thought. Alex stood up abruptly, “Bruce…Cha, the audacity! What does he think he is going to accomplish…trying to muscle in on my territory. No matter, my Blue Legion will make short work of his troops. My only hope is that his second in command, James, is leading that small skirmish…and that my men will bring back his head! It is hard for me to believe that The Commonwealth has let the House of War commit these atrocities for so long.” Jon watched as Alex anxiously paced from window to doorway trying to gain a visual of his troops. Jon noted that the commander was shaking visibly, his face red with anger, as he reached the doorway leading out of the room. Alex shouted, “and that they allow his bloodthirsty general, this…this James , to ravage my lands…MY LANDS!” Jon chuckled while placing a hand on Alex's shoulder, noticing that the glint had subsided from his commander's eyes. Jon spoke with a reassuring voice, “No worries brother, if your plan works the way I think it will, we will not have to worry about anything….for a very long time.” Jon's quiet laughter continued down the hall through a curtained doorway and into the street. There in the gloomy dark of evening, something could be seen more than heard, a red dot in a sphere of black hovered a few feet off the ground, humming softly, watching….listening.

************************************

The House of War

 

Looking up, James watched as the earth crumbled from the spot where his head had been just moments ago. The shots were pouring in, “so many…and so fast,” he thought. He could almost feel the air heating up in front of his face from the friction of the projectiles against the air. Turning sideways to face his men, he shouted loudly over the noise of the barrage that was becoming more intense. “Send a squad to the left flank!” he shouted, “They will be weak on the left!” A man wearing a gray insignia gave a curt nod and issued orders to some nearby men. A dozen soldiers headed out, crawling on the ground down the trench toward their left flank. James looked at the handful of men that remained on either side of him. He thought to himself, “How many soldiers were in my troop when the graviton transport ship dropped us off yesterday…30...40? Nevertheless, I would gladly sacrifice two or three times that many every hour of every day. Whatever is necessary to regain control of the lands that should rightfully be ours.” James signaled for a return volley. An action likely to cost the lives of one or two of his remaining warriors, yet gain precious time for the squad he had sent to the flank. With the signal given, the troop rose up in unison and volleyed a burst into the enemy. As one, they returned to the safety that the meager trench provided. More return fire pelted the earth as James twisted around onto his back. Looking up through the hail of fire at the cloud-covered sky, he reflected on his brothers in arms. “ War …it was the name given to our House so many years ago. How fitting, it seems, that a family born into such turmoil, such anguish, would be named thus.” James thought then of the commander of his House, Bruce, and wondered how the mission to the council was going. “The Commonwealth will see our House as dominant and award us accordingly,” he thought, “Surely they will see how our people suffer and…” His thought was interrupted by a loud explosion in the direction of the enemy. The incoming fire had ceased on his position. Screams and firing could be heard in the distance, sounds of intense combat that James and his men were not strangers to. James climbed out of the trench onto level ground. From the top of his lungs he screamed one word …. “CHARGE!” He took off running toward the enemies' position. He did not look back. He did not give further encouragement to his men. For he knew, that if need be, they would follow him through the gates of hell.

 

    **********************************************

Bruce stood at the top of the stairs looking around at the courtyard that led to the Council Chambers. He wondered what game the delegates from The Commonwealth of the Fourth Dimension would be playing at this time. It seemed they had called the meeting in great haste, only giving him an hour to arrive. He would not have made the meeting in time if it were not for the graviton transport ship. He had called it back from an intended sortie at his homeland's border. This thought took him back to his borders where his second in command was leading troops. “Damn House Apollo to Hell,” he growled, “Why should Apollo have power equal to my own? Is not the House of War greater in stature, and if not more, doesn't my House have as much influence within the Commonwealth.” Agitated, Bruce strode around the courtyard…“Blue Legion,” he thought to himself, “They are squatters…the lot of them! They try to take the lands near my borders, lands that are not theirs, lands that should rightfully be mine! Yet they pick and pick, and for no good reason they go whining to the Commonwealth . Well, lucky for me, the Commonwealth has shown them no heed.” Bruce scowled, “if it is war that Apollo wants then it is War that I will give him!” Bruce closed his eyes and said a silent prayer for his House. He prayed for his troops' success in wiping out the abominations that threatened the House of War's advancement within the guild. Bruce chuckled to himself, “I know there is no need for such prayers. What a fine general James had become. He has skillfully trained and prepared all of the soldiers in my garrison. No finer example of warriors could be hoped for in the entire universe, well…except for the Red Fist legion.” Thinking of the legion, Bruce was brought back to his task at hand. “Whatever the delegates have planned, I must gain an advantage over my adversaries. If only I could be awarded stewardship of the conveyance.” Bruce wiped at the drool he imagined running down his chin at such thoughts. “As steward to the conveyance, I could portal to anywhere…no, to any time I wanted. I could wipe out the Blue Legion, ruin the House of Apollo, and gain back our rightful lands. With such power, I could end starvation and war among the people. I could bring peace and prosperity, the likes of which has never been seen.” Bruce snickered at the thought of such power…such a dream. “But why stop there?” Bruce thought, “What power could really be gained by destroying Apollo…other than his lands, he has no real riches, the real power lies with…” A cold sweat broke out on Bruce's forehead, amplified by a gust of wind rolling across the courtyard. Bruce wiped his brow and looked around nervously, thinking how lucky he was that even had there been a Witness nearby it couldn't read his thoughts…not yet anyway.

***************************************************

Lost Souls

 

There was an uncharted thicket of woods that lay off the main roads, away from any dwellings or structures. A seldom-traveled path could be seen leading into the thicket. A short way down the path a man sat, keeping guard against trespassers in the gloomy fog of dawn. Looking down at the log upon which he sat, the man thought about how he and the log were alike. “Both of us are weathered and gnarled,” he said to himself. “Perhaps we are not quite as virile or magnificent as we once were. Yet, we are both able to provide support where it is needed. After all, my companions have entrusted me with the great responsibility of guarding this entrance to our hideout. Whereas I have entrusted you with the great responsibility of holding my butt!” He snickered and straightened his posture, taking joy in his revelation with the log. Digging in his pocket he pulled out a piece of jerked meat. While chewing softly, he looked out into the obscurity. He caught glimpses of shadowy pillars of tree trunks revealing themselves momentarily, only to disappear once again in the murk. The patchy brume, combined with an eerie silence, created an ominous feel to the thicket. Wisps eddied and swirled across the ground like lonely ghosts. The man was captivated by their movement. He imagined them as apparitions, possibly the souls of men who had died there long ago. It seemed as if the spirits were laying claim to the deathly still forest.

 

The man's fantasy was suddenly shattered by a disturbance in the woods. He focused his attention on the path in front of him. Cautiously, he reached down and grabbed his weapon. He sighted down the barrel toward the direction of the noise and waited patiently. Soon, he could hear an unmistakable rubbing. His keen ears identified the sound as flared trouser leggings, chaffing in stride. The other sound was a distinct swishing that could belong to only one. “Ho, Scotty!” the man called, “who is that you're traveling with?” The approaching pair was still invisible behind the veil of fog. Having heard the man's voice, Scotty acknowledged him in return. “Ho, Chris! How fares the weather where you stand?” Chris realized the Smuggler's Coded question was a request for safe passage. He gradually lowered his weapon and carefully replied, “The weather is fare, now that you are here.” With the return signal given, Scotty and his friend strode forward. They appeared out of the haze to stand before Chris. One of the newcomers was tall and slim. He wore camouflage consisting of a vest that bore no insignia, and oddly enough, a kilt. The other was a burly man, slightly shorter with broad shoulders. Chris noted the flared trouser leggings and, more importantly, the distinct colors of the Red Fist Legion. A wide grin spread across Scotty's face as he embraced Chris with a firm handshake. “How is it that you did not know my friend here from the sound of our approach, yet, you were able to identify me?” Chris gave a toothy grin as he lifted up a bit of Scotty's kilt with the barrel of his gun. “I don't know of many men that go walking around these parts wearing a skirt,” he laughed. Scotty gave a wry smile jabbing his friend in the shoulder. Scotty motioned to the man next to him. “Chris, you know Junior, don't you? You may remember him from our days of running transport for the Mining Office.” Chris eyed Junior knowingly, “Aye, Junior and I have done our fair share of runs together as well.” Junior nodded in agreement, “Yes… it has been a long time since I have seen you, well met old friend. How has the trade life been treating you?” Chris shrugged, “As good as can be expected I suppose, better than the next man at any rate.” Pensively, Chris pointed to the emblazoned crimson insignia on Junior's uniform. “How goes it with you…I see it is the Red Fist for you now eh?” Junior nodded slowly, watching apprehension build in the other man. “We each have to make our living as we can. The Commonwealth offered me an opportunity that I could not refuse.” A nervous tick began twitching behind Chris's eye. He could feel his weapon's handle becoming greasy with the sweat of his grip. Using the back of his pants, he wiped off his palm and regained control of his weapon. Though stunned by Junior's presence, he spoke with an unwavering voice, “Well lads, I can allow Scotty to go further on in, but I'm afraid Junior will have to turn back.” Junior looked down the path behind Chris. He knew full well what lay beyond, hidden in the depths of the forest. He returned his steely gaze to the man in front of him.

There was no expression on Junior's face other than the tiniest thinning of lips with upturned corners that may have resembled a smile. “He is probably amused with me,” Chris thought to himself. “To think that I could keep one of the Red Fist from going anywhere they pleased is a ridiculous notion. Thankfully, the Trading Guild makes regular contributions to the Commonwealth. Otherwise, I would have greater cause to fear the Red Fist.” Looking at Junior, he hoped that the Guild had not become delinquent in their payments. Junior noted the other man's anxiousness, “That's OK old friend, I have business elsewhere.” Junior quickly said his goodbyes and headed back the way he had come. Chris turned to Scotty, “It's a shame,” he said, pointing in the direction Junior had gone, “I'm curious…how much of him that we knew is still man…and how much is machine? I can't imagine what it would be like if the Commonwealth did that to me. It makes you wonder if any of the Red Fist even has a soul left.” He shuddered at the thought, “What is one of the guard doing this far out anyway?” “I'm not sure,” Scotty replied, “Junior told me that he has just recently been recruited. He said he was on his way to the Consulate when I ran into him on the main road. He offered to accompany me this far since it was on his way.” Chris shook his head in disbelief, “That Junior sure was crazy…always living on the edge and pushing the limits. That reminds me, whatever became of that youngster he was always hanging around with…what was that kid's name…Korey wasn't it?” Scotty gave a grim nod, “The Commonwealth scooped him up too, and they both joined the ranks of the Red Fist Legion. Wide eyed with surprise, Chris gave a low whistle, “I'm shocked that the Red Fist would recruit them. Those two boys are a couple of loose cannons if I ever did know any.” Scotty nodded in agreement “Well, perhaps the Red Fist will keep them on a tight leash.” Chris shook his head, “More likely they intend to take the collars off the both of 'em.” The two men stood in silence for a moment, grateful that they were not on the receiving end of what they were envisioning. Chris sighed heavily and focused his thoughts in a new direction, “What brings you out this way?” With a mischievous glint in his eyes, Scotty patted the small satchel that was strapped to his back. “I've got some information that I think a certain House may find very useful. I had an interesting visit with some friends of mine.” “What friends do you speak of?” “Well, they prefer to remain anonymous, but let's just say they are in the archeology profession. It seems they have discovered some valuable artifacts. They have decided, for a small price, to allow the locations of these artifacts to be known to myself and perhaps to some others within the Trading Guild. I would have bought all the information, had I enough to trade with.” A devilish grin came over Scotty's face then. “Though, with the information I did gain, I think I'll have enough to line my pockets for quite some time.” Chris chuckled, “Well, try not to forget the little people when you strike it rich.” Scotty returned the gesture, “No worries old friend, wherever my path takes me, I won't forget those who were good to me along the way.”

 

With that, Scotty clasped his friend's shoulder and bid him farewell. Chris followed the progress of Scotty's murky shadow at it disappeared into the mist. He stood listening as his friend's muffled footsteps quietly faded away. After a while, Chris returned to his position on the log. He sat, intently listening and watching for several minutes. His thoughts drifted to Junior, and he wondered again at how much the man had changed. How many years had he known the man, and what would cause him to join the likes of the Commonwealth? Chris noticed that he was nervously squeezing his weapon tighter. He lifted his hand in front of his face, looking at the impression of the weapon's grip. He watched as the blood flowed back into his hand, filling the creases that had been left there. In an attempt to settle his uneasy feeling, he inhaled a deep breath and let it out evenly. Repositioning himself on the log, he relaxed the hold on his weapon. He watched as rays of soft sunlight came filtering in through the overhead branches. Reaching into his pocket, he fished out a sliver of jerky and popped the morsel into his mouth. Chewing methodically, he watched the fog slowly dissipate. He could hear the waking of beast and fowl as they warbled and chirped in their burrows and nests. Once again he looked at the wisps that were now disappearing in the sunlight. “Like lost souls,” he thought again, “being harried away by the sounds of morning. The creatures have come to reclaim their forest once more.”

*****************************************************

The Red Fist

 

Ted watched from a knoll as daylight shown down upon what remained of the small encampment. Smoke drifted lazily upward carrying the smells of charred wood and burnt flesh. What once had been orderly rows of crude buildings and tents now lay strewn about. Most of the structures had burnt to the ground. Those that had not, cast shadows within which glowing embers could be seen. The only sounds were the soft crackle of burning wood and a few muffled moans of wounded among the debris. As he looked down, Ted could see one of his soldiers approach an injured man lying in the rubble. “Karl,” he thought. “He is one of my most skilled in hand to hand combat.” In one fluid motion, Karl unsheathed his blade, and dispatched the man beneath him. The man convulsed with a gurgling sound and then lay still. Karl wiped his blade and returned the weapon to its sheath. “Perfection,” Ted thought. As if hearing the thought, Karl looked up to the knoll and bowed his head in acknowledgement. Ted felt a surge of exhilaration. “Such is the training of my men. So tightly knit is our group that we seem to know what the other is thinking or what they will do before it even happens. This is what makes us strong. It is more than the mechanical prosthetics that have replaced damaged limbs, joints and organs. More then the optical and hearing enhancements, or the respiratory and central nervous augmentations. It is our oneness , our ability to react to one another seamlessly. Our pinpoint accuracy and deadly reflexes are only amplified by these cyborg implants.” Ted rubbed his wrist and forearm, feeling the hard metal prosthesis protruding beneath his uniform.

 

A clamor at the far side of the encampment brought Ted's attention to the forefront. He watched as a lone survivor was attempting to flee. The quarry, a woman by her looks, was running toward a copse of trees. She waved her gun behind her haphazardly spraying fire. Taking long strides, she jostled over the obstacles that hindered her path. Ted recognized one of his men near the source of the commotion. The soldier was pointing his weapon at the fleeing woman as he walked in an arc around the debris. Ted could see the man's jaws moving, issuing orders. He watched as the man aimed his weapon in the direction of the woman, while his free arm waved in the air behind him. It seemed as if the man had no concern for the sporadic fire that was pelting the earth around him. He showed no heed to the projectiles as they flew by his head, tearing off bits and pieces of a nearby wall. “Johnny Ole,” The commander thought. “What a fine tactician that one is. Surely his commanding presence strikes fear into the hearts of even the bravest of adversaries.” Ted could see that the woman was nearing the fringe of the campsite. Ted was bothered by this current development. He was under strict orders to leave no survivors. He was repulsed at the thought of someone possibly escaping the justice of the Red Fist. He shouted loudly over the din, “Take her down!” Another man stepped out of the shadows and into the fray. As the man took a knee on the ground, Ted recognized his stance instantly. “Nate,” he half-whispered. Ted knew that the situation was well in hand now. The kneeling man brought his weapon to bear as he took steady aim at the fleeing woman. Nate caught glimpses of the woman as she headed toward the trees. Her figure appeared for brief moments among the scorched buildings. Nate's barrel panned across the ground as he led the woman's movements. She breached a clearing and was sure to reach the woods when a single shot rang out. Nate stood and shouldered his weapon as the woman's limp body fell to the ground. He ran his fingers through his beard and briefly surveyed the surroundings. The entire scene had only lasted a few seconds. When it was over, the whole perimeter was crawling with the Red Fist. Ted watched approvingly as his men barred any chance of freedom. The wounded in the camp were quiet now, their moans having been stilled by blade or bayonet. “None shall escape the justice of the Red Fist today,” he thought. Pleased with the night's attack and the results of the morning, he yelled out to his men “Regroup!” Shouts could be heard from the soldiers, echoing the command to regroup. Soon, they had all gathered near their commander. Ted looked at the warrior directly in front of him, “Give me a headcount, Rod.” The soldier looked over the men arrayed before him and mentally accounted for the troop's assignment. “Eleven of us…Twelve with you, all here Captain.” “Ok Nate…I want you, Rod, Tony and Joe to head for the Consulate. When you arrive, make sure to enlist any recruits that are awaiting assignment.” Ted recalled one of his men, “Korey, have you had your datalink and augments scanned?” “Yup, I'm good to go,” Korey replied. Ted's eyes shown brightly, “Ok then, I want you with me, I have something in mind for you. Nate, take Horning and Eric with you as well.” The two men stepped forward to join the ranks of the detail. Eric began to fidget with something in his pocket. Horning looked at the tall and lanky man curiously, “What are you doing there?” Eric had a look of consternation on his face, I can't quite reach this grenade…it's stuck on something.” Horning laughed, “Whoa! Backup everyone, Fingers here is about to go off!” The men all began to laugh. Though, some of them did back up a few paces. They knew that a few of Eric's prosthetics had been the result of his own doing. Ted adjusted his weapon, cocking his elbow upright. “OK, settle down men. Nate, I want you to take your guys and we'll meet up later.” While the six men headed out at a quick pace, Ted returned his attention to the remaining soldiers. “The rest of you listen up. I recently received a message from a Witness. The delegates from within the Commonwealth have confirmed the details. It appears a couple of Houses are feuding over border rights. Unfortunately, a district close to their lands has just been assigned as a Restricted Area. The Commonwealth wishes to use this area to house the conveyance to the fourth dimension. Our assignment is to make sure peace is kept in the district.” Ted motioned to a soldier, “Our engineer has done a survey…how does it look Ray?” “Well, it doesn't look good captain. A lot of the land has been devastated by the war between the Blue and Gray Legions. The fortifications are minimal and the resources are few. There is not much likelihood that anyone will be able to establish a firm foothold in the district. Call me crazy, but, it should be perfect for us,” he grinned wickedly. Ted nodded in approval, “All right then men, let's head out, you know what to do. With that, the men fanned out ahead of him. They made rapid progress, leaving the smoldering remains of the camp behind .

***********************************************

Home Again

 

Hammer walked down the sidewalk absorbing the sights and sounds around him. He thought of his life up until now, and his new start with the House of War. He was fascinated by how quick this part of the world had become like a home to him. A passerby slammed into his arm and kept on walking without a word …as if it were nothing unusual. Hammer paid closer attention to his surroundings…the city was bustling today. Travelers were moving quickly on the walkways, busy with errands that were apparently more important than the next man's. Merchants labored down the streets with their loads on hover carts or personal transports. The wealthier merchants had bodyguards to help protect their assets from brigands. Probably not so much a problem in these streets as in the countryside, he thought. Though, one could never be too careful. Men were sometimes driven to desperate measures during these oppressive times. His thought was emphasized by the drone of a nearby loudspeaker. There were several such speakers located throughout the city. Today, they were playing a recorded loop of the Chancellor. “Damn the Commonwealth propaganda,” he whispered under his breath. He scowled as he passed beneath the loudspeaker. He quickened his pace until the sound was a mere buzz in his subconscious. The section of the street he found himself in was alive with vendors, hawking their wares. It was as if he had entered a battle zone where the peddlers were at war with each other. Bartering back and forth, they each tried to gain the upper hand on a deal. It was a cacophony of shouts of victory and screams of dismay as the vendors haggled with their customers. Hammer looked at the crafts and foods that lined the street before him. He moved further down the street, taking in the smells of fresh java, spiced meats and sugar rolls. He stopped to watch a vendor set up his fresh game and produce shop. He looked on as another trader was preparing a display of nanotech augments and prosthetics. They appeared to be of decent quality. He stuck his hand in his pocket, feeling the few bits of silver that lay there. He was contemplating which vendor to visit when something drew his attention away. He heard a raucous laughter coming from a street corner, where some people were beginning to gather. Instinctively, he moved to an alleyway that was between him and the source of his newfound interest. He immersed himself in the shadows as he looked on.

 

He could see a young boy waving a paper in the air and calling out above the noise of the crowded street. “Commonwealth Brings Prosperity: tax cuts for the poor! Climate Expected to Change!” Hammer recognized the boy as an obvious propaganda ploy. Undoubtedly under the commission of the Commonwealth. No self-respecting citizen would actually believe in the Commonwealth's lies, let alone help spread their tyranny among the masses. He watched as a young man standing next to the paperboy ripped the paper from the boy's hand and turned to face the crowd. Hammer's heart skipped a beat and his breath caught in his throat as he recognized the young man's face. Brian…the brother of the Commander. Brian threw the paper to the ground and shouted to any who would listen. “Taxes cut for the poor, HA, that's a laugh!” He continued to antagonize the young paperboy, shoving him away from the stack of papers on the ground. “What kind of weather do you think the Commonwealth will allow this spring?! Maybe the ground will thaw enough that we can unearth some potatoes! Cha!” Hammer noticed a disturbance further up the road as he watched. People were making way for something moving toward the scene. He caught glimpses of black and red in the open spaces between the jumble of bodies. He knew it was the Red Fist. He scanned the area, wondering what could have alerted them so quickly. “There,” he thought. A street over in an adjacent alleyway he could see it…a Witness. The sinister black sphere floated there, giving Hammer a terrible sense of foreboding. He could only hope that the thing did not have a clear shot of Brian's face, or worse. If it had transmitted actual footage of the scene, Brian would be in some real trouble. “No helping it now,” he thought, “I have to act fast.” He removed his weapon from beneath his cloak and took steady aim at the globe. He paused to consider his actions. He knew that as soon as the shot rang out, all hell would break loose. “I've got to alert Brian,” he told himself. He whistled in a high-pitched signal. Brian caught the sound and squinted in Hammer's direction. With a series of hand signals, Hammer was able to quickly communicate what was about to happen. Just as the realization sunk in, Brian heard the shot ring out. The Witness went down instantly. It fell in a flash of fire and sparks. It lay crumpled on the sidewalk with a small trail of blue smoke rising up into the air. At the sound of the gun, everyone panicked. Some froze, some dropped to the ground, but most of them ran in all different directions at once; packing the already crowded streets. People were trampling over fallen bodies as they pushed and shoved, trying to get as far away as possible. Hammer watched as Brian fought his way across the street.

 

Beyond the flight of people, he noticed something in the alley where the Witness had been. He wasn't sure, but he thought he saw a shadowy figure there. It looked as if the figure immerged briefly to stoop over the damaged Witness. Hammer's focus was lost as Brian finally reached his position. When Hammer looked back, both the figure and the Witness were gone. With a big grin on his face, Brian clapped Hammer on the shoulder, “Howdy Hammer!” Hammer rolled his eyes and began dragging his comrade by the arm as they retreated back down the alleyway. They ran fast, leaving the scene of confusion behind. After running for several blocks, the pair rounded a corner near the edge of town and ducked into the open doorway of a Bakery. They sat down on a bench while breathing heavily and looked out of a window for signs of pursuit. Their breathing slowed as it became apparent that they were not being followed. Hammer cuffed Brian upside the head, “Fool! What do you think you're doing causing such a scene?” Brian shrugged him off, “Whoa, back off man, its no big deal. I was just telling the Truth .” Hammer shook his head, “Yeah well, in the world we live in, the truth can get you killed!” Brian spun away vehemently and faced the other direction. Hammer continued talking to the back of the other man. “Do you realize the Red Fist was nearly upon you….” Brian turned around, with a dour expression on his face. “I am not scared of a few of them clunky robots. Why, if they'd try anything, I would….” Hammer cut him off abruptly “Or how about the fact that a Witness was watching you.” Realization set in on Brian's face. Hammer continued, “Not only did you risk exposing yourself, but you put me at risk by saving your sorry butt! More importantly, you put your brother at risk. You are the brother to War ! You represent him…us…our House ! We do not need that sort of attention right now.” Somber now, after receiving such a berating, Brian hung his head in acquiescence. “Your right. I'm sorry.” Hammer sighed heavily. “I'm sorry too. I know you're angry…we all are. Yet, we can't fight the Commonwealth the way we fight with our enemy Apollo. As a matter of fact, even that may have to change. Brian looked up questioningly, “What are you talking about, there is no man alive that could keep me from killing one of those Blue Legion scumbags.” “Didn't you hear? Your brother met with the delegates of the Commonwealth. Apparently they are strongly discouraging our border skirmishes in the Alamo District.” Brian nodded knowingly, “Yeah, I know all about that. Heh, as a matter of fact, I spent the last of my purse finding out why. That is where the conveyance is being housed. The Commonwealth may be a thorn in our side at the moment with this border issue. However, it will likely fit in very nicely with my brother's plans regarding the current drop zone. Hammer looked thoughtful for a moment, “I see…if we can get there….we could all be rich beyond our wildest imaginations!” Brian rumbled with laughter, “Yeah…Tax Free! Just the leg up we need my friend” Hammer chuckled and nodded in agreement. Looking out the window the two of them could see that the coast was clear. “Let's get back home,” Brian said. Hammer stood up and readied himself to go. He thought of what Brian had just said…. ‘ back home .' The word reached down deep into his soul. It meant a great deal to him…on so many different levels. He nodded in agreement, “Home.”

****************************************************

Best Laid Plans

 

The streets were still quiet as Short took his position in the narrow alleyway. Soon the vendors and merchants would be scrambling to get the best spots along the walkways in this high traffic area. Short knew from watching over the past couple of weeks that just beyond his position, two vendors would be setting up shop. The two vendors were very diligent in securing the same location on a daily basis. On one side would be a young woman with a pretty smile, selling her aromatic java. On the other side would be a rough, burly looking man selling spiced meat rolls. Short took a deep calming breath and moved further back into the shadows. It would be dawn soon and he wanted to make sure that his position was secure for the upcoming ambush. He had spent days watching this position from various angles in the street. He had also spent days standing in the very spot in which he now stood, waiting to see if the space would be disturbed. Meanwhile, his comrade Goodwin had been trailing their mark every day, establishing a routine. Normally Short would not have needed more than two or three days to prepare for an operation. Something like taking out an officer in the Blue Legion would not require so much attention to detail. It would be a little tougher to eliminate a Red Fist soldier, as they rarely traveled alone. This mission however, would take a little more planning if he was to assassinate a delegate to the Commonwealth. Delegates were always surrounded by bodyguards, if not a special detail of the Red Fist itself. He felt confident in his ability to take out today's subject though. His mark was on a predictable routine with only five bodyguards. From Goodwin's report, he knew that there would be two bodyguards in front, two in back and one trailing five to ten paces behind the escort. Every morning the delegate stops at the java hut and then the spiced meat vendor. As soon as the delegate gets half way between the two vendors…he would be dead man. Once again Short controlled his breathing and went over the plan in his head. He imagined the entourage across the street…the shot…the confusion as the crowd watched the body hit the ground. The hysteria that would ensue as blood began to pool out beneath the body. He went over his escape routine again. The alleyway dead ended into a high wall with a doorway to the left that led to an abandoned office building. He left the door ajar so any pursuers may think he had escaped into the building. Whereas, he would actually be scrambling over the wall using a rope he had left hanging there. The rope was tethered to the other side of the wall where he could pull it over after him. As Short was contemplating his escape, a crackle came over the earpiece of his COM link. “XO- we have an unknown passing your position in 5, 4, 3...” Short listened to a humming noise as he watched a vendor guiding a transport cart passed the opening of the alleyway. He thought to himself, “And so it begins.” He made a quick physical check of his various weapons and accoutrements that were located within the multitude of pockets of his uniform. He settled in for the next couple of hours, periodically getting progress updates from Goodwin. Time went by and the hour neared, so once again he went over everything in his head….he was ready. There was a lively commotion occurring to the right of his position, just outside of his view. At first, he thought nothing of it. If anything, the event would only help aid his plan as a distraction. There was a risk that if the situation were to escalate in an unfriendly direction, some unwanted attention may be drawn…and that, he did not want. A few moments later his COM link came alive. “Sir…we have a situation…be advised we have a friendly in proximity, how-copy?” Short paused for a moment to consider the implications of this new information. “Goodwin…please elaborate, -over” “Be advised- we have a member of the House…engaged in what appears to be a dispute with…a paperboy… -over.” Short shook his head in frustration, “Roger that- friendly will have to take care of themselves, we will go ahead as pla…” As Short was about to finish, he could feel his elbow vibrate. That could only mean one thing…a Witness was near.

Short had paid a small fortune for the device attached to his elbow. It was capable of picking up the gammatron energy emissions that a Witness puts off. He was about to report this new development when a manhole slid open on the walkway that was just a few feet away. A pitch black Witness emerged, gradually rising up until it was a few feet in the air, while the manhole slid closed beneath. The globe was about ten inches in diameter, with a red light sensor on one side. The thing spun slowly on its axis, causing the red dot to flicker intermittently. Short remained motionless as the red eye swept across him. Though there was no physical touch, it felt to him as if someone had dipped him in a vat of slime. After the eye had passed, he shuddered, trying to shake the feeling of being violated. The Witness moved to the edge of the alleyway and focused its attention to the right, in the direction of the commotion. Goodwin came over the COM link once more. “Sir…the friendly…..it's the Commander's brother.” The sinking feeling that had begun in Short's stomach somehow went deeper. “Everything seems to be going wrong at once,” he thought. He knew he couldn't risk voicing a response yet, for fear of the Witness. At the same time, he was unable to proceed with the mission. If War found out that he had needlessly put his brother at risk, there would be hell to pay. The earpiece crackled again, “Red Fist coming from your left, two blocks out and closing fast.” Short did not hesitate. He raised his weapon in preparation of taking out the Witness. Just then, he jumped back in shock as the Witness exploded before his eyes. With a puff of flame, smoke and sparks, the Witness fell heavily to the ground and lay there smoldering. He realized what had just happened, yet, he didn't quite know how. The crowd was in a frenzy outside the alleyway. He signaled to Goodwin over the COM link, “Abort mission, repeat…Abort mission, regroup at Sector Tango, Alpha, Romeo, Sierra. He quickly removed a leather sack from one of his pockets and crept forward a few paces to the Witness and scooped up its remains. He grunted as he hefted the weight, “Not a total loss I guess.” Without a backward glance he ran down the alley and disappeared over the wall.

*******************************************************

Rich News

Alex waited in the audience chamber and considered all of the candidates he had interviewed thus far. Two of his highest-ranking officers fell during the last assault on his borders. This fact, combined with the recent assassination of one of his top generals, left him dangerously low on strong leaders to help command the troops. He had been scrambling to fill their rolls with these tedious meetings. He interviewed a couple of promising candidates already. Yet, he was holding out until all of the possibilities had been explored. He knew his brother Jon would be up to the task of leading the entire army if need be, but he had other plans for him. The quietness of the room allowed Alex's mind to wander. While sitting at the head of the conference table, he fingered the ornate woodwork in the arm of his chair. He admired the beautiful craftsmanship. It was one of the few relics that survived the holocaust. He looked down at the black marble flooring, its white veins stretching out before him. He pondered at the number of people that may have treaded on its surface over the years. His gaze swept across the paintings and tapestries that adorned the walls around him. He then looked up, as he often did when sitting there, and saw the mural that covered the room's ceiling. It was a scene depicting an early war of Houses during the rise of the Commonwealth. In retrospect, he was somewhat surprised that the Commonwealth hadn't demanded the removal of such displays, labeling them as inappropriate. Returning his attention to the chair, he imagined the ancestors that may have resided in the very same seat. He wondered if providing safety and security for the House of Apollo was as much of a daily struggle for them as it was now for him. This reminded him of his current predicament. The Commonwealth was breathing down his neck again. As if paying taxes wasn't enough, they wanted him to withdraw his forces from the Alamo District. He wrung his hands in frustration…he knew why they wanted him out of that district. It was because they were worried about their precious time tunnel. He had spent the last of his reserve finding out more about the conveyance to the fourth dimension. Now, if he could only take advantage of the situation. He reached up and tagged his COM link. A moment later a voice came through the device, “Yes sire?” “Send for my brother….I wish to see him immediately.” Alex sat a few moments longer, anxiously awaiting the arrival of his brother. Soon, he heard footsteps approaching through the anteroom, and his brother emerged soon after. “Ho, Brother,” Alex greeted, “What word have you from the trading guild?” “Good news my liege. I have discovered the location of the next drop zone in the fourth dimension. Evidently the tunnel will be opening up to a time long ago in our land's past. Alex sat forward, more intent on this exciting news. He rubbed his chin, considering what his brother had just told him, and questioned him once more, “Pray tell brother, how did you come by this information?” “Well,” Jon admitted begrudgingly, “it cost me dearly. I used all of the bargaining power I had available. I am left with nothing.” Alex nodded his head in understanding. “Most unfortunate…” “That is not all…” Jon interrupted, “ I have also enlisted the services of some individuals that were only recently discovered. It appears they are part of a group that has been living underground. They are a resistance movement involved in the creation of a portal to the fourth dimension. Evidently, Dr. Thomas Cross formed the group years ago after he was exiled from the original conveyance project. For centuries the group has been studying and tracking down information to help them in their endeavors. They are called the Guardians of the Code. A representative of the group has shown an interest in one of our lower house members and would like to pledge allegiance to our cause….” “My, my, my…..what splendid news you bring me!” “That's not all,” Jon continued. “It appears the Guardians have discovered the location of a useful artifact, though, the origin of this information comes from a less than reputable source. Our spies have confirmed that this is a promising lead however, due to the rumor that our House is not the only one privy to the information.” Alex stood up, with a renewed vigor. “Jon, I need you to conduct the rest of the interviews today. This information you have brought me cannot wait a moment longer. We must act with great haste if we are to capitalize on this news. Send word to this Guardian….I want to set up a meeting as soon as possible to learn more. Well done brother,” Alex chuckled, “Well done indeed! Now I must go address some urgent matters. With our coffers being empty, we will have to see about getting an extension on our taxes. There is also the other item that must be attended to…I want my generals prepared as soon as possible.”

***************************************************

Misgivings

 

Colby and James eyed each other suspiciously. It was an odd sight to see the two opposing generals meeting in such a way. James grinned wickedly, and nodded to the other man, “Hey, I hear the Gray Legion has taken to enlisting young boys now cause' their aint no more real men left in their House.” Colby's face turned bright red as he stepped up to James. Though a head shorter, he paid the other man no heed as he poked him in the chest. “Yeah well, from what I hear, it takes a real woman to know a real man…that must be how you know all about the real men of our House.” It took James a moment to realize the implication of this insult. His eyes went wide, and he backhanded the younger man viciously. Colby recovered and grabbed the other man around the waist. The pair tumbled to the ground as they pummeled each other in a flurry of fists and feet. A gun shot rang out, bringing the two to a halt. Still grasping each other, they turned their heads toward the source of the noise. Alex stood towering over the two. “That's enough!” Seeing his commander, James released Colby and stood at attention. Alex continued, “At ease James. Its time we put our differences aside. We have a common enemy that makes our little War of Houses pale in comparison.” Bruce strode up beside Colby, who was rising to dust himself off. Bruce faced Apollo, “What are you getting at Apollo?” Speaking directly to Alex left a foul taste in his mouth and he grimaced. Alex grinned, “I called this meeting to propose a truce between our Houses. We all know the time tunnel is opening up to a time where we can gain unbelievable riches. There will be enough to lavishly sustain both our Houses for generations. We are also aware of the location of the artifact and the guardian's Code. We know that with these things we may eventually be able to provide the means to build our own conveyance to the fourth dimension. I propose that we let the House of War have the artifact and the Code. In exchange, the Blue Legion will be allowed to traverse through the conveyance first.” Bruce thought about what his enemy had to say. He didn't like it, but he was feeling pressured. He knew that with the Red Fist guarding the conveyance, his House would be hard pressed to make any headway. At the same time, he couldn't stand the thought of the Blue Legion winning the day. “Very well,” Bruce sighed. Alex smiled broadly, “Excellent! So it is done then. Colby was frowning and he half turned to face the two leaders. “What about the Red Fist?” Alex looked down at the youngster and spat on the ground. “Ha! What about em? At the end of the day both of our Houses will profit from this truce. House of War and House of Apollo will have a cease fire and God help the Red Fist!” James smirked, “God doesn't have a place for those soulless bastards.” Alex and James were chuckling to one another under their breath and taking backward glances at Bruce and Colby as they departed. Colby turned to his commander “So what the heck was that all about?” Bruce watched the backs of the retreating men through squinted eyes. “I don't know Colby….and I don't like it.”

 

*********************************************

Today and Tomorrow

 

Ted sat in the alcove of an abandoned building idly biding his time until everyone arrived for the briefing. A Witness floated nearby, its soft drone just a murmur in the background of his thoughts. The Witness was linked to the Oracle and he knew its assistance would prove to be invaluable. Not to mention that the prowess of a Witness on the battlefield was unmatched. He was very grateful for its presence on this day. He took a breath of air into his lungs and exhaled slowly. He found this process to be relaxing and it enabled him to reflect on events past, present and future. Looking down, he could see a few leaves on the ground. They were all brown and faded, some half disintegrated. One lonely leaf lifted up with the slight breeze and floated in the air for a moment only to fall back down amongst its brethren. He looked upward at the tree top above, thinking perhaps that was the origin of the leaf. He formed a correlation in his mind between the tree and his life's experiences. He imagined the tree as being the Commonwealth. The Red Fist would be just one of the many branches that stretched along its trunk. The world's population was the tree's life force, coursing through its veins. The leaves could represent those who would become soldiers, fighting in some struggle or another. Looking down to the ground again at all the fallen leaves, he was reminded of the men that had served under him over the years. How many had fallen for the cause? His thoughts turned then to the speech he was preparing to give to his men today. So many times in the past he had given these speeches to his men. Was this time any different? No. Would it be any different next time or would there even be a next time? He ruled out this last thought. Such thoughts could not…would not, be permitted. For himself and of those who followed him, he would accept nothing short of victory.

 

He thought of the task ahead of him, a task not unlike many he had faced in the past. What causes men like these, he wondered, to pit themselves against such great odds time and time again? What is the drive behind placing themselves in harms way so willingly? Throughout history, men have faced challenges much like the one he faced today. Historical events such as the battle of Thermopylae, Rorke's Drift, the siege of Alesia and even the Alamo. How ironic, thought Ted, that the Alamo was the very namesake for the battle grounds his men would fight to hold today. He knew the outcomes of those famous battles. Did he have remorse or regret for his actions when he decided to put himself and the lives of his men on the line in such a way? He remembered something someone once asked him long ago. “Why do you risk life?” they had asked. The answer was simple… “For Today and for Tomorrow.” Nobody knows what tomorrow will hold. It seemed to him that serving the Commonwealth of the Fourth Dimension offered a tomorrow like no other. In the hands of lesser men, he could envision a repeat of the CAP debacle. What kind of tomorrow would that be? For Ted, there was nothing in the world…no man…or no army of men that could stop him from fighting to see what tomorrow would hold for him. To those that stood against him and what he believed in, he would show them only what today held. As for them, there would be no tomorrow.

 

Nate entered the alcove, breaking Ted's concentration. Fritz, Derek and Tony trailed in behind. The rest of the squad came in shortly after and stationed themselves before the commander. Each of the new arrivals had the stone cold expressions of men who knew what they were about. Killing was their business and today everything was half-priced. Some joked about the coming attack and many shared their disappointment in the small size of the enemy forces. Korey spoke out, “So Captain…what do you have in mind for us?” Ted raised his hand, quieting the men. He looked at each one of them in turn with an unmistakable seriousness in his eyes. “Today is the day…”

*******************************************************

Holding the Line

 

Let us just say that sometimes certain parties, deemed nefarious by the Commonwealth, can obtain useful and intriguing information…for the right price. Some have warned against sharing such raw data with the masses, saying that it will come back to haunt me. Nevertheless, I felt it necessary to share with you, for it is my belief that we have the right to know exactly what happened. After all, how much closer to the truth can we get than a data log of events from an actual participant. The following is a word-for-word excerpt from the data logs of a member of the Red Fist. This account is of the Alamo District battle as witnessed by Joe aka SOBWAL, of the Red Fist, on April 6, 2008 in the Talps Nam Ud Universe, Parallel Sector 0.0.14.

 

***********************************

 

DATALOG: N15.473, 4.6.08. TNU
PS: 0.0.14.255

REP: Joe aka SOBWAL //RF-CFD

SUBJ: Alamo District

 

SOBWAL. That's what they call me now. There was a time, long ago, when I was known by another name. A time when I was more man than the machine I am today. Joe…that is what they called me. That was then…before the Red Fist. It has been one hundred ten long years since I enlisted with the Red Fist. Those that knew the name Joe have taken it with them to their graves. There are those few who still call me by my given name though. Those who share the same duty as I, or curse, as some would call it. The men that I serve with knew me by that other name. Why did I join the Red Fist in the first place you ask? Some of us had different reasons for joining. Revenge, lust for power, or too damn poor to do anything else. If you can't beat 'em, join 'em. A lot of us didn't have a choice; for us, the battlefield was our life…it's all we knew. Yet, sooner or later old age caught up with us…a serious wound, disease, or any number of things. It came down to the fact that the Houses didn't want us anymore. If they could have made us better, I'm sure they would have. Yet, the Houses didn't have the means. We were broken down…old…no good. How could I serve a House with a cripple leg and a bum shoulder? It wasn't an easy decision to make…I saw what they would do to me…what they did do to me. If I had to do it all over again, would I make the same choice? Damn right I would. I'm a Red Fist man now, through and through.

 

After One hundred ten years of serving the Commonwealth, I thought my road was finally going to come to an end today. My unit was on a simple peacekeeping mission, when, as usual, things went from bad to worse. My Commander received information that the Houses were mounting a full scale attack on the Alamo District. Our intelligence indicated that they intended to overtake the conveyance to the Fourth Dimension. Our superiors ordered us to shut down the time tunnel. We arrived in the District just in the nick of time. The conveyance had already been activated. Korey tried to shut it down, but it was too late. Ray and Horning had just returned from a scouting mission and it was obvious that the Houses would soon be mounting their attack. The Oracle appeared through a Witness and Ted received new orders. All we had to do was hold the District for an hour. We set up a perimeter immediately and dug in. Now it was just a matter of time, our jobs were simple…hold the line. I sat in a bunker, high atop the hill and surveyed the surroundings. I carefully noted each nook and cranny the territory offered. I placed myself in the shoes of my enemy. Walking myself through the motions, I contemplated how I would attack the very position I was charged to defend. Déjà vu, I thought to myself; surrounded, by what some would consider impossible odds, with little chance of survival. Yes, there were those who would scoff at the idea. Many would opt for safer odds, preferring a plan that offered more than the seeming dire results for which we were preparing. If one did not know the caliber of the handful of men I was with, they might think the numbers we faced to be insurmountable. However, the men I fought with were stalwart, hardened warriors. They had faced countless battles similar to the current situation. Any one of us would not hesitate to lay down our life for the next man. It was with these things in mind that I felt confident, honored and obliged to serve beside them. With a heart full of pride, I glanced over at the comrade who shared my bunker. His eyes were alive with anticipation of the coming attack. Hidden behind his protective face shield I could picture the huge goofy grin that was undoubtedly plastered on his face. I looked down at his weapon, which was precariously pointed in my direction. I motioned toward his firearm. “Make sure you safety is on.” He looked down at his gun and fidgeted with the device, adjusting the grip sensor. He nodded reassuringly, “It's on now, I think.” Just as my body began to relax his gun fired, nearly taking off my leg at the knee as the projectile slammed into the earth beside me. Sighing, I shook my head. It was just my luck to be stuck in this bunker with old Fingers. Oh well, I thought. If he can do so much damage on accident, just think of what he can inflict on the enemy when he's actually trying. I was somewhat consoled by this notion. Once again I rose up over the bunker and looked around. A steady wind was coming in from the southeast. I noted the positions of my comrades closest to me: Rod and Steve to my right, Nate and Karl to my left. For a moment, I almost felt sorry for the enemy…..almost.

 

I heard the advance signal given in the distance. From the reports of our scouts, I knew where they would hit first. Any minute now, I said to myself, they should be coming into view…. there . The bodies appeared amid the trees, weaving in and out of the forest, scrambling over the uneven ground. Their pace quickened as they neared our position. It looked like an army of ants spewing forth from a disturbed nest. The front line of the enemy rose up in a wave before the bunker to my left. I could barely distinguish the two lonely figures of Nate and Karl, as they rose up slightly behind their blind. The pair of them sliced through the incomers like a hot knife through butter, as the enemy melted away. Wave after wave, they crashed against the shores of our defenses, only to recede. All around me, gunfire and screams of agony could be heard. Fingers and I kept the enemy at bay in our designated field of fire. Eventually the opposing forces dug in and seemed to be solidly rooted in their holes. Now it was a waiting game and I had to be sure to conserve my ammunition. Considering no soldiers were pouring into my bunker, I assumed my comrades were holding up their end of the bargain. The hour drew near when we would be given the signal to withdraw. Just then, I heard my commander shouting that the rear guard had fallen. I left Fingers to hold our position alone and scrambled over to the conveyance. I saw the enemy swarming upward in droves. I was able to dispatch several before they realized where I was. Shots came whizzing in my direction as I hit the ground. This is it I thought. This is how it will end. I focused on the downward slope before me. I shot at the enemy as they crested the horizon. I figured that I would either run out of ammunition, or be overwhelmed. Just as I took a severe wound to my left arm, the commander gave the signal to regroup. We quickly gathered our wounded and headed for the rendezvous. As we arrived at the destination the commander called out “Who are we missing….where are Nate and Karl?” He checked his COM link with the Oracle. “I'll be damned….they are still alive. I'm going in after them, hold fast men.” After a short while we were rejoined by our missing comrades. We gathered around, nursing the wounded, and assessing our situation while preparing for the next move. Ted took a knee before us, “Good work men, we did about as well as I expected, especially under the circumstances. I cannot say what the future will hold for us tomorrow. Much will depend on what the Houses are able to accomplish in the past.”

************************************************

 

Broken Promises

 

Hammer peered around the edge of the building again, trying to gain a better view. He knew the terrain would be difficult from the onset, especially with the objective being located on the high ground. He assumed some of his intelligence was wrong however. It had been nearly an hour, and still, he and his troops had been unable to gain a foothold against the Red Fist. The reports he had received indicated that it was a mere handful of men. Granted, it was the Red Fist, but still, such a small band of men should not be able to withstand the combined might of War and Apollo. He looked on as the two generals from the House of Apollo signaled for another assault on the hill. Hammer found these two new generals, Brad and Chad, to be quite impressive for Blue Legion standards. They seemed undaunted by the repelling force of the Red Fist. The generals were relentless with their troops as they attacked. As one squad was shot down, they were seamlessly replaced by another…forcing the hand of the enemy. He watched as the troops charged up the hill and once more they fell back. He hoped the rest of the army was fairing better than this. Once again he peered up at the top of the hill. Something was different. Something must have happened in that last assault, this was the moment they had been waiting for. The enemy's flanks were faltering. He watched as Alex, commander of the House Apollo seized the moment and yelled out, “Charge!”

 

The Blue and Gray troops swarmed up the hillside. Many fell, dead or wounded, as they scrambled up the hill. They took cover where they were able and eventually they bridged the gap and crested the ridge. A wave of adulation swept over Hammer as he watched the remainder of his men help fortify the area around the conveyance. Hammer thought to himself, “I guess the truce worked, we finally made it!” There were several skirmishes unfolding on the outskirts of the main action, when Hammer received word from Goodwin that the artifact along with the Code had been secured. A thought came over him then. Why should he share the glory with the House of Apollo? After all, at the nearest opportunity, would they not stab him in the back ? Since he had the best interests of the House at heart, he made an executive decision that he believed his commander would support. A squad from the Blue Legion approached the time tunnel under the assumption they were still under the cease fire of the truce. To their surprise, they were gunned down by Hammer's men. What followed was a slaughter.

 

Though many of the Blue Legion perished, several were able to retreat to the rear lines where news of the treachery spread. What ensued was mass mayhem. The Red Fist, having withdrawn, left no common enemy for the two Houses. It soon became apparent to everyone that the truce was off and new battle lines were drawn. The battles were chaotic with skirmishes reaching as far back as the drop zones of each House. As news of the broken truce reached Bruce he erupted in a fury, “APOLLO!” He gunned down several unwary soldiers of the Blue Legion that were amid his detail. Afterwards, as Bruce reached the conveyance to the fourth dimension, he learned of Hammer and his success at taking over the Alamo District as well as the fact that the artifact had been secured. “So be it,” he grunted indignantly. “All is fair in love and War .” He instructed James and Brian to get the troops through the conveyance. He waited until the last of his troops were through and he followed in after them. As Alex arrived on the scene, he could see a lone figure disappear into the time tunnel as the portal shimmered slightly and went still. He looked around at the dead bodies of his men that lay scattered about. He nodded his head calmly. He knew that trusting the House of War could prove to be a mistake. The bodies on the ground confirmed it. He and his men would have their revenge; perhaps not today….but maybe yesterday. The window of opportunity was closing fast. He knew that he had to act fast if he was to get near the drop zone that the conveyance was currently opening to. He ordered Brad to assess the status of their wounded while Chad was instructed to prepare the troops to pursue the enemy through the tunnel. Apollo looked on as his men tended to the dead. He watched as the twisted bloody bodies were pieced together and piled up in preparation for burial. “We don't have time for that,” he called out in a shaky voice. “Burn the dead, leave a squad behind to collect the ashes and return them to our home. Let no man forget the treachery that was visited upon us today.” He clenched his fist as he shook with anger. “You will pay for this War…you will pay with blood!”

*************************************************

Riding out the Storm

 

Bruce stood in front of the mirror-like portal of the conveyance and placed his palm on its surface. His hand tingled intensely as the portal rippled outward like a pool of water that had been disturbed. His troops were already through and he hoped that they were safe on the other side. He had heard stories before; of miscalculations in transport settings, gruesome alterations of the body and so forth. At the very least, he had heard that traveling through the conveyance was something you never got used to. He turned around at a sound in the distance. He watched as the head of the approaching enemy troops came into view. “So long Apollo.” He took a deep breath and stepped forward into the portal. A blinding white light enveloped him instantly. The light proceeded to flash various colors: red, blue, green, yellow and so on. Each color blended into the next in a seamless succession of the spectrum. Bruce shook his head from side to side, trying to maintain focus while his body vibrated out of control. His sense of awareness was so heightened, that is seemed as if he could feel the blood coursing through his veins. The sensory overload became almost to much to bear. The sound he heard might have been the reverberation of his heart beating. There was also a high pitched buzzing in the background. Though there was no friction, no wind against his skin, it still felt as if he was being hurled forward…or maybe it was backward. There was no sense of direction or time, only a sense of being. He likened the experience to the affects one might feel from some sort of psychedelic drug. Suddenly his body convulsed and went rigid as a wave of pain shot through him from the bottom of his spine to the base of his skull. He ground his teeth at the near unbearable pain that followed. He found himself flailing, stumbling and falling. His vision started to clear as he realized he was on solid ground. He was laying sideways looking at something on the ground before him. He blinked his eyes a few times as clarity set in. He realized that he was looking at a small pile of what appeared to be his undigested lunch. He rolled over onto his back clutching his nauseated stomach and looked up at the sky. He could see numerous multi-colored clouds with lighting coursing through them. It appeared as if they were receding and giving way to clear skies. He took in the wider scope of his immediate surroundings, picking out the sounds of his men around him. As he looked on, he saw that many of them were standing and organizing into their units. Some were still moaning and rolling around on the ground while others were still heaving violently. Though his own body ached and his stomach was still knotted and uneasy, he attempted to rise on shaky feet. “Status Report!” he called in a raspy voice. “Commander!” James called back, recognizing Bruce. Several men who had gained their composure hurried over to Bruce and helped steady him on his feet. Bruce waved them off with his hand “I'm fine…see to the others.” “Captain,” James kneeled briefly before Bruce before continuing. “All are present and accounted for.” Some of the troops are a little shaken up from the journey, but otherwise we are fine. As far as the scouts can determine, we have arrived at the expected drop zone. The area is being searched and as of yet we have not seen any signs of life.” Colby stepped forward and bowed his head briefly, “My liege. I have some important news from our engineers. It seems that there was a miscalculation or a change in the conveyance settings. It appears the portal was set on some kind of ‘daisy-drop' cycle. In order for us to make it back to our own time, we will have to go through the corresponding conveyance of this dimension and each successive dimension until we return home again.” Bruce's eye twitched nervously and the muscles of his jaw rippled as he ground his teeth at the news. He clenched his hand into a fist and shook it angrily as he cursed “Damn the Red Fist! They must have changed the sequencing generator before we arrived to the conveyance.” He sighed heavily and returned his attention to Colby. “How much time do we have?” “As best as we can determine….an hour.” Bruce nodded grimly, “Very well, we will have to manage as best as we can. Put me in contact with the scouts. I want to know how close we are to finding any signs of the artifact from this world, or if there is any of the rumored pirate…” Bruce was cut short as a soft thunder rolled across the sky. He watched as the clouds he had seen receding earlier were now forming again on the horizon. The air seemed to be thick with static electricity as the hairs on his body stood on end. He grunted sourly, “Colby…get me a location on that conveyance. I want to be able to make it there before Apollo.” “Sir, yes Sir!” The troops began to organize for a swift departure as the storm closed in on their position . Within minutes the entire Gray Legion had departed. Soon after, lighting could be seen streaking across the multi-colored skies. The compelling beauty of the colored storm clouds belied the fury they would bring.

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Sacrifices

 

The Blue Legion arrived through the portal in a similar fashion to the House of War. Alex didn't pay much attention to the out-of body experience of his voyage through the fourth dimension. Though the feeling of nausea still lingered in the pit of his stomach, it was subdued by his focus on the objective. With the betrayal still fresh in his mind, he was already issuing orders to seize the portal for the return journey. Before the departure, his scientists informed him of the current state of the conveyance. Though disappointed he would not have more time to explore the realm for its hidden treasure, he was motivated by the possibility of getting his revenge. He ordered the majority of his forces to capture the portal and prevent the Gray Legion from entering. He sent a small contingent under the command of two of his generals: Chad and Redheaded James. It was their responsibility to harass the enemies' rear flank. Alex received communication from Chad that the enemy was seen with the Guardian's Code, but they were unable to recover it. The main forces of the two armies butted heads at the area surrounding the conveyance and neither side seemed to be able to gain a foot hold. The hour was drawing near when Alex knew that his men would be trapped in this dimension unless they made it through the time tunnel. Alex could see that most of his men were already bathed in the blood of his adversaries. He knew it would be difficult to keep his troops' morale up, especially when considering the steep losses they had previously taken. His troops demonstrated their desire for victory as each push became more ferocious and more intense than the last. Alex was so inspired that he joined the ranks of the front lines that were preparing for a charge. He shouted loudly above the roar of battle. “Remember the Dead! Remember their sacrifice!” As one, his troops pushed forward. Shouts could be heard above the screams and gunfire: “Long live Apollo! For the Fallen! Remember the Alamo !” As the dust settled, Alex realized it was over. He had possession of the conveyance…but at what cost. Bodies lay all around him tangled, gnarled, and bloody. He gave the order to move most of the troops forward though the portal. At the same time, he designated a small squad to stay behind with the hopes of preventing the Gray Legion from reaching the time tunnel before it closed. He knew it was an unlikely venture, but it was one he was willing to risk. He felt that he had already asked too much and he would not ask for yet another sacrifice. Therefore, he required all members of the squad be strictly volunteers. Before following the main troops through the portal, Alex addressed the brave men and women who were staying behind. “My fellow warriors, I humbly bow before those of you who have sworn your lives to protect the good of our House. Through your efforts we will be able to crush our enemies in the House of War. Your deeds will not be forgotten. Fight hard…show no mercy…and we'll sing of this day for all time to come. Farewell my friends.” With that, he disappeared into the portal. The remaining soldiers formed a circle around the conveyance and prepared to die a warrior's death.

 

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Bloodlust

 

The Captain threw back the jug of rum taking a long draw before letting it down again. He ran a dingy sleeve across the dribble running down his beard. He let out a loud belch and staggered forward a pace. He spoke out as if answering someone (even though there had been no question asked.) “Aye Matey…you may be right about that...” He tipped back the jug and downed several more swallows before continuing. “…never have I seen an enemy so intent on destroying each other.” Redbeard was startled awake at the Captain's outburst. He rose up from his position on the floor and nearly knocked over his own jug in the process. “Blimey! I near spilled me last drop o' rum.” He scooped up the jug and let the Captain's words register for a moment before nodding in agreement. “Aye Cap'n…twas a battle to be sure.” Youngblood touched the hilt of his sabre, “Twas a good thing they steered clear of our blades for the most part, else we'd have carved them into shark bait for sure.” Deathwind rose up off a powder keg and addressed his boastful counterpart. “Arrrrgh, don't be so sure there Younglood.” He rested his hand on the hilt of his blood covered blade. More blood was splattered across his face, arms, legs and back. “Though it be true most of this blood I do be covered in belongs to those scurvy dogs who tried to steal our booty… some of this blood do be mine as well…and it hurt me greatly to part with it. I say we are fortunate that those vermin hated each other more than us on this day. Mind you, we would have held our own salt to be sure, though…we may have had to bleed a little more for our troubles.” Some of the men nodded in agreement. Some begrudged Deathwind his battle scars. Others were still hungry for the battle and thirsted for the blood of those who dared attack them. The Captain pointed up at the sky and looked to his men. “Well me hearties, perhaps someday we'll get that chance again, but it looks like the storm is over for now.” Looking up at the colored clouds receding in the distance, the pirates watched the horizon and hoped that someday the mysterious storm clouds would return.

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The Awakening

 

Since man can remember there was the Oracle, a strange and powerful being capable of seeing the future. The Oracle used its powers for the betterment of mankind. As is the way with all things, nature sought to balance the good in the universe. From the dark seeds of despair, hatred, envy and violence, evil was born. The evil grew, giving birth to twisted and wicked creatures that would find their way between the worlds. Among these creatures was one far more powerful and wicked than all the rest…the Gatekeeper. The Gatekeeper was responsible for controlling the gateways between worlds, allowing the spread of its kindred. The pure land of Splatmandu was a place that enticed the Gatekeeper. The land was ruled by the Knights of the Painted Orb. The Knights were a chivalrous band of brothers whose hearts were virtuous. They were guided by principles of honor, duty and justice. Long before the arrival of the Houses to this ancient time, the Knights had triumphed over the forces of Darkness in an epic battle of good vs. evil. Lore has it that Sir Eric of the Web conquered the Gatekeeper with a single blow using a Dragon's Orb. The physical presence of the Gatekeeper was banished from the world forever…or so it was thought. However, the Gatekeeper was no mere mortal. Its power was just as great as that of the Oracle and although it had been exiled, the essence of its soul still remained. To prevent the Gatekeeper's Soul from breeching the boundaries set by the laws of nature, the Oracle created a vessel known as the Soul Jar. The Soul Jar was meant to imprison the essence of the Gatekeeper should its soul ever move from its physical form. After the final conflict between the Knights and Darkness, the Soul Jar remained hidden. The Oracle knew that the land must be protected in the future, should the jar ever be found and the essence released. In preparation of such a dreadful and devastating discovery, the Oracle preserved its own essence within a vessel. For a time, it too departed the land, leaving itself in the care of the Knights. For generations the Knights maintained peace in the land. All was well as the centuries came and went, and the vivid images of a violent history faded with time. Until one day…the strangers appeared and awakened the beast.

 

The Gatekeeper was nothing more than a black presence, more dark than the void surrounding it. It was not in any pain or agony, it simply existed in a semi-hibernation…waiting for release. It hungered to be free from the vessel so that it could unleash its fury upon the land, and seek revenge upon those who had imprisoned it. The Gatekeeper slept for what may have seemed like an eternity until it finally awoke. Something was different on that day…something had happened to rouse it from its deep slumber. The Gatekeeper reached outward with its mind and probed at the bonds that held it… there it was again, the Gatekeeper thought, as it felt along the length of the invisible barrier, testing its resistance. The Gatekeeper felt something then, and it smiled a vile and hideous grin. Someone, or something, had created a rift in the space-time continuum. That was all the help the Gatekeeper needed…it was free again. With a wave of its staff, it brought fourth two of the Minions of Mayhem and they let fourth a powerful roar that shook the Earth. The Gatekeeper bent its will toward finding the Oracle's Essence and destroying any who stood in its path.

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Old Foe

The old man scrambled up the side of the hill in a panic. At the top of the hill stood an ancient timeworn castle. The man moved faster as he neared the castle. It was as if the devil himself were chasing after him as he took great strides, looking over his shoulder in a frenzy as he ran. He was unmindful of the briars as he clawed his way up the hill. Thorns dug into his skin, tearing flesh away and leaving red streaks across his face, hands and forearms. He yelled out as he reached the great oaken doors of a castle. “To Arms, to Arms!” He pounded frantically at the door. “Masters, for pity sake, open the doors,” he cried. Soon after, the doors swung open revealing a row of armored Knights. One of the Knights saw that the man was distraught and beckoned to him. “Good sir, what is it that has brought you here in such a state?” The old man pointed behind him to the sky in the distance. Lightning flashed across the sky as it coursed among brilliantly colored clouds. “The Darkness has returned,” the old man cried, “The Gatekeeper walks the land again!” Tears of terror were streaming down the old man's face now. The sting of his tears as they mixed with the bloody scratches on his face were the least of his concern. The Knights looked to the skies in amazement. One of the younger Knights, Sir Poe, pointed to the sky, his voice filled with awe. “By the good grace of Durham , what the devil could this mean?” Another young Knight answered, “This is the work of no devil, Poe. More likely its the work of the Gatekeeper. My father warned me that this day may come.” Another Knight came forward, “I am not sure what this is…we should seek the council of the elders.” With a crazed look in his eyes, the old man fell to the ground and clutched one of the Knight's legs. “It's too late,” the old man said. “I've seen him. I've laid eyes on the beast himself…he walks the land!” One of the veteran Knights came forward, “We must find the Essence of the Oracle, she will know what to do. We must also gather the ancient scrolls. The Oracle and scrolls may be the only weapons that can aid us in battling such a horrible foe. We must also protect them, for should they fall into the wrong hands, we could be doomed forever. A few of the Knights quickly found the Essence of the Oracle and secured it within their stronghold. The remainder of the Knights rode out with the Scrolls in their possession. They sought to put an end to the destruction that had been revisited upon their land.

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Death's Toll

Alex arrived through the portal after his men. The sacrifice of the soldiers he left behind was still fresh in his mind and he felt hollow inside. He had been unable to wrest the Guardian's Code from his enemy, the House of War. Their grasp upon the code was firm and he didn't have much of anything to show for their progress. Though they remained one step ahead of War in the daisy chain of drop zones for the time being, his men's morale was beginning to wear thin. He knew that his House needed a firm victory in order to keep his momentum going. What was it his engineers told him about this time zone? Something about lost scrolls, ancient artifacts that may provide the key to unlocking the Guardian's Code. What a prize that would be. At the very least, this must be kept from getting into his enemy's hands. More than the scrolls, Alex was interested in finding the rumored Oracle. If such a thing did exist, it would be a powerful force that could aid him in his struggles. Alex could see a band of his warriors returning from a scouting mission. As they approached, he could see that their number was smaller than when they had left. Their faces were bloodied and haggard, and he saw fear in their eyes. He hurried over to them. “What is this? Where are the rest of your numbers? Was it the House of War? Where are they?” The men shook their heads. One man fell to his knees before Alex, “Sire, forgive me. We couldn't stop it. We tried…we…it…” Alex was infuriated at the man. He needed answers to his questions and he felt helpless at the moment. He grabbed the kneeling man by the shoulder and shook him roughly. “Damn it soldier, pull yourself together! Where-Are-My-Men!?” The empty silence that followed was broken by a sorrowful reply. “Dead… they are all dead.”

 

The reply came not from the kneeling man, but from another who stood next to him. Alex looked at this other man more closely and recognized his features beneath the blood and dirt that covered his face. “Shake?” Alex had fought alongside Shake in the War of Houses that took place many years ago. Shake was staring vacantly ahead as if in a state of shock. Looking down, Alex could see blood flowing freely from Shake's left arm which had been severed just below the elbow. Alex cried out, “Medic!” Shake blinked twice and looked at Alex as if seeing him for the first time. “They were not human, Sire. We fired upon them, but they kept coming. Our weapons were useless. We saw the House of War as well. None of them…none of us, could stop the creatures. They sliced through entire squads of men…like we were nothing more than grass for their scythe.” Alex could not fathom what he was being told. There was nothing that could have prepared him for this. “There is something else, Sire. There was one among the creatures…the leader I think. When I looked upon it…when I looked into the black holes of its eyes…it was as if Death itself had taken hold of me. Never have I felt such sorrow…such emptiness.” Shake stood there with a pained expression on his face. The medics arrived and began working on the injured men. Alex was at a loss for a moment. Just then he remembered something his advisors had told him. He swiftly issued commands, “Bring me the portal engineers! Send for my generals!” A startled messenger jumped at his commander's outburst. “Alex looked at him with eyes ablaze. “Well?!” The messenger scrambled away, lest he feel the wrath behind those eyes.

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Happy Go Lucky

 

Bruce arrived through the portal in a state of frustration. He breathed angrily through his nose and scowled at the thought of his recent defeat. Apollo had beat him to the time tunnel from the last universe. On top of this, he was unable to recover any treasure or artifacts from the land they had left behind. His only solace was knowing that his nemesis was unable to recover anything in the short time either. Now he was in this new land that was said to be ruled by the “Painted Knights” or something like that. There was also a legend of some kind of evil creature that once roamed the land. “No matter,” he thought. “Surely these primitive beings will be no match for my soldiers of War.” Bruce was more interested in securing the Guardians Code that he possessed. This was his pride and joy. He signaled to a nearby messenger, “Boy, go and fetch me the Chief Engineer, I wish to speak to him immediately.” The boy saluted and ran off quickly on the errand. Bruce was consoled by the fact that his House held the code. It was a grand prize that he hoped would someday lead him toward creating his own conveyance to the fourth dimension. He longed to free his people from the tyranny of the Commonwealth once and for all. Perhaps he would get lucky and find the rumored Essence of the Oracle. Or, perhaps he would find the ancient scrolls. Such artifacts might help his engineers crack the Guardians Code. So much to do…and so little time. “All I need is a little luck,” he thought.

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Faith and Courage

 

Chad hefted the weight of the tiny orb in his hand. “The Dragon's Orb,” he grunted. He looked at the many colors that seemed to swirl across the surface of the small globe. He sighed heavily, “How can this tiny ball possibly defeat that horrible beast?” His resolve was not strengthened by the sounds of gunfire and screams that were getting closer to his position. “How far were they now?” he wondered. “100 meters…50? He felt weak, as if his blood was being drained out of him. He squeezed the orb tighter, and reminded himself of his duty. What was it that Jon had said to him before he left… Destroy the Gatekeeper and the others will fall…use the Dragon's Orb and the Soul will return to the jar once more . “What kind of utter nonsense was that anyways?” He gripped the Orb and sighed again, shaking his head in doubt. According to the engineers, the Gatekeeper once walked these lands in the past but was imprisoned by the native inhabitants. Supposedly, they too had used this fabled ‘Dragon' Orb.' “Now look at us,” he thought. “If we had not come here, if we had not disrupted the space-time continuum, the Gatekeeper would not be free. We did this to ourselves. The Commonwealth was right. We should never have done this. Just like the CAP, we will end up destroying the world.” He shook his head at the thought. “What am I saying? The Commonwealth are the evil ones. This dark beast, though more brutal and cruel in appearance, is not unlike the Commonwealth who has destroyed whole civilizations of people while hiding behind lies and propaganda.” He thought back on his own time. How long ago it seemed to him now. He wondered how his family was doing. When he had left, they were starving and suffering under the Commonwealth's rule. Then he thought of the soldiers, his comrades, who had already sacrificed their lives in the power struggle that had been playing out with the House of War.

 

A bloodcurdling scream erupted ahead of Chad and brought his attention back to the task at hand. He could see the dark shadowy figures making their way toward him. His soldiers weapons seemed to strike the beasts with no affect as the creatures continued to slaughter any who dared bar their path. He watched as one beast in the center motioned with a staff and the others moved at its direction. “That must be the leader, the Gatekeeper,” he thought. He closed his eyes briefly and put the memories of his family, friends and brothers in arms solidly in his mind. The thoughts gave him courage and with a final quick inhale he rose and strode forward with his eyes closed. He knew what might happen if he looked into the eyes of the Gatekeeper and he did not want to risk that fate. At the last instant he opened his eyes and focused on the middle of the dark shadow before him. With all his might, he hurled the Dragon's Orb at the Gatekeeper. He watched as the ball glided through the air, spinning as if in slow motion. The Orb struck the Gatekeeper and time stood still for a moment. Rays of white light, interlaced with shadow, began to streak outward from the point of impact. One at a time the rays of light broke outward. The Gatekeeper let out a horrifying sound and clutched at its chest. Chad believed the horrid sound of the Gatekeeper's wail would haunt him for the rest of his days. The rays of light continued to grow and expand until all Chad could see was a blinding light. He tried to look on, shielding his eyes with his hand, when suddenly a wind came from behind him. Standing his ground, he soon realized that the wind was not coming from behind him at all, but rather, it was a giant vacuum that was pulling ahead of him and into the light. The light suddenly folded in upon itself until there was nothing left. They were gone. The light…the Orb…the Gatekeeper…the Minions…all gone. Nothing remained on the battlefield except for the ruined remains of his fellow soldiers.

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Perseverance

 

Brian limped on ahead of his men and approached the Commander's tent. He walked in and stood at attention. James, the trusted friend and second in command of the House of War, waved dismissively. “At ease Brian. Pray tell, what news have you from the front?” “Sir...” Brian paused, noticing the look of hopelessness on James' face. Undoubtedly this had been a difficult struggle for their House. The battle had been nearly too much to bear and the losses had been significant. The Gatekeeper had proven to be a powerful foe. He sighed deeply before continuing. “…the Gatekeeper has fallen.” A gleam of hope entered James' eyes for a moment, though it was soon dulled as Brian continued to give his account of what he had seen. When Brian had finished, James spoke with a deep resign “So…Apollo has taken the glory from the field of battle once more…a pity, that. What other news have you? Any word on the Scrolls…the Oracle? “None sir. However, we did receive a report from Third Battalion. Apparently there was an attempt by Apollo to capture the Essence of the Oracle from a nearby castle. According to the report, the attempt failed.” James nodded his head and he relaxed a little at the news. He then spoke to Brian with a renewed vigor. “Thank you, General. I received confirmation that the Fourth Battalion has secured the Guardian's Code. We also know that Apollo has moved his troops to the next drop zone. I want you to assemble our men as soon as possible. The Commander will arrive soon and we will need to be ready to enter the time tunnel before the hour's end.” Brian saluted and quickly left to complete his duties. James stepped into the tent's opening and watched Brian's departure. His gaze moved to the multi-colored clouds in the sky. He looked at his surroundings and wondered at the strange inhabitants of this land. “Knights…evil magical beasts…what's next?”

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