Chapter 4: Two Betrayals
Sam pulled himself forward, whimpering. Seven whole scythe limbs had been broken off into his body, cutting his spine in four places. His chest was pierced by over thirty spines, and his left arm was completely severed.
A booted foot stomped on his armored hand. Armor squealed and gave way, crushing his hand. Sam winced and hissed, then looked up at the foot's owner. Jonas Locke smiled.
"You." Sam growled. "You caused it all."
"Yeah."
"You're Prospero, aren't you?"
"Oh, no, I'm Fenrisian."
"Why? Why this?"
"Because you Hellmarines are in my way. You're just the first in a long line of attacks to whittle you down." Locke stepped off of Sam's hand.
"The Thousand Sons aren't effective enough to destroy you, yet. But they've pledged their services, so I'm not going to pass up the opportunity. I'm gonna make general within the year. But first you Fenrisian need to go." He pulled a needle pistol from his hip holster, aimed at Sam's chest, and emptied the clip on full automatic.
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Ricky paled.
'It's Painkiller!' the Protoss cried. Ricky turned and ran, spitting rapid fire orders.
"Michael! Get the Firebats moving! Bill, Justin, and Richard! Move your marines on my position!" Dixie ran along with him.
"How are you conscious?" Ricky asked.
"I'm better than that, Ricky." She replied.
Zeratul watched their retreating backs. Didn't they know he was doomed? This Painkiller was dead, simple as that. Then again, fallen Templar often chose the path of the Dragoon, even Dark Templar. Zeratul looked to his Dark Templar warriors. Wouldn't they save their friends from the zerg? Zeratul looked back to the humans, then wrapped himself in a cloak and followed them at a run.
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Crim Magnus approached Locke.
"Sir. We're ready to hit the rest of them."
"Good. They'll be near the front. Stay behind the second line and snipe them, it'll be dismissed as friendly fire." Magnus smiled, then his head exploded in his helmet. Locke ducked down, then sought the source of the shot. Sam stood their, the needle pistol in his hand. Locke's honor guard turned and pulled the triggers. The barrels of their guns began to spin, when all of them were suddenly cut down by bodiless tears in space.
Six Dark Templars decloaked, surrounding Locke. All of them had energy blades on both arms. The leader stepped forward, darker than any night Locke had ever seen. Locke just smiled and disappeared in a flash.
"Recall!" Zeratul roared. Who had Recall? The remains of the Conclave. Zeratul growled, then deactivated his blades and cloaked again. His warriors followed him away from the battlefield. They had work to do.
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Daggoth extended his full alertness to Braxis. Ah…the Hellmarines were there. And one was damaged. Daggoth smiled greedily. Finally an equal to Kerrigan. Daggoth tingled at the possibilities. He gave the brood there one order: capture the human. Daggoth removed the mass of his alertness from Braxis, not wanting to spoil his own surprise. He gave another greater tingle.
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Sam tried to stumble a step forward, but wound up on his face. Dammit. He was suddenly rolled over. Ricky and Dixie were looking him over, their eyes wide.
"What the hell happened to your eyes?"
"Long story." Sam shook his head.
"Don't have enough time."
"Don't say that!" Dixie shouted at him.
"Too late." Sam spat, then popped his neck. The pain was great. He could feel every scythe puncturing his organs. A medic got to his knees beside Sam, six mechanical chiurgeon arms flashing across him. He started up a buzzsaw and began to cut through the armor. The chiurgeon arms grabbed the edges and ripped the armor open. Dixie turned and puked. Ricky was staring at it with way too much white in his eyes.
"I had to die sometime." Sam said, shrugging it away.
"You aren't dying on my watch." The Medic growled, "besides, elder, you need to meet your child before you die. I was sent a message from Fenris. You're a father."
"Was a father, doc, was." Sam grumbled.
"Live through this, Painkiller, that's a direct order."
"Well, Lieutenant, I believe I'm your equal. So kiss my ass and order the damn granite already." Sam growled. Ricky stood.
"Well then, you can carry the weight of a Dark Archon." A black ball launched from his chest and phased into Sam. The scythes protruding form Sam's chest suddenly dissolved into nothingness. The medic's arms were a blur as he patched Sam up.
"We need a dropship, ASAP."
"Yeah, that may be some trouble, doc." Bill said, bringing up his rifle.
"Why?"
"There's a few clouds worth of Zerg flying right at us."
Ricky looked up. "Damn."
"Time to go." Justin cried, running past the small group. The Medic heaved Sam up in his Chiurgeon arms.
"Wait." Sam said, in a voice not completely his own. He floated upright then down onto his feet. He held up a single hand. Energy the color of blackest night began to gather literally into the hand. The energy exploded. Scourge began to swerve into the larger of Zerg Organisms. The horde's greatest Arial strength, the massive predictability of the scourge, now worked against them.
"Now we can run." Sam said, then he lost consciousness. The Medic picked him up and began to run, carrying him over his head. Overhead, a massive hammer-like head emerged from the clouds, followed by another, then another, then another. Three massive Behemoth-class Battlecruisers began to fire point-defense autocannons, chewing through the zerg fliers.
Ricky sighed. Another valiant escape.
'Sterman! Get your people out of there!' a captain cried. 'Nukes inbound!'
"Nukes?! Why is always fucking Nukes!?!" Ricky cried, then ran even faster. The Missile struck. Ricky was thrown forwards by the shockwave.
(A month later…)
Ricky couldn't help but stare at the massive form standing beside him. Sam couldn't have been saved, there was too much internal damage, so now he was sealed in a suit of CMC-550 Tactical Dreadnought Armor, a.k.a. Terminator armor, for the rest of his life, unless he wanted to take a cloned body. Ricky privately hoped he would. He couldn't bear to look the man in the eyes. Yet again he'd broken his rifle, but he'd managed to patch it up this time. There had been losses. The medic who had saved Sam's life was in one of the coffins now. So was Michael. His armor's batteries had exploded under the shockwave.
Ricky kept on saluting the fallen even after everyone else had lowered their arms. Sam was back in the Hellmarines. A bittersweet victory. He finally lowered his arm, the ceremony done with, and looked at Sam. The Dark Archon looked back to him.
"It'll always be like this, you know? We're all gonna die out here." Ricky said.
"Not if I can help it." Sam said. "I've got the armor, now. I'll take a million bullets each day to save this team. We're not winding up in one of those." Sam replied.
"You're alright, Painkiller." They turned away from the torpedo loader.
"Locke? The Dark Templar?"
"We'll deal with those problems when we get there." Ricky assured him. "I wanna kick Locke's ass."
Sam paused before speaking. "I'm not gonna stay this way, you know. I can't think straight. I'm just waiting until I get this Archon thing down."
"That's fine." Ricky looked at his watch. He sighed. "I've got to see Dugalle."
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Ricky stepped into the Admirals office, instantly unimpressed with the red carpet. Piano was playing from an ancient record player.
"Sit down, Sterman."
"Sir." He sat down.
Dugalle stepped into his field of vision in a brown dress uniform, a gauss pistol strapped to his waist. He sat down at his desk.
"I asked you here for two reasons, one, to apologize about Locke. I didn't know his mo-"
"Apology accepted. Get to the second point, sir."
"I want you to hunt him down, and eliminate him. The mission will be classified as EZ, extremely hazardous or suicidal. I can't give you any support, you will be on your own, possibly for an extended stay. I can regulate you a small, Dreadnought-class Battlecruiser and a pair of Valkerie-class frigates."
"I'll do this, if you promise me two things, first, disassemble the Hellmarines. We're not large enough to continue. They can be fused with the Fenris First, the Space Wolves."
"Done. After they return, they'll be with the Fenris First."
"And I don't want Lieutenant Perry or Ghost Agent Johnson on the mission. They'll remain behind with the First."
Dugalle raised an eyebrow. "Why?"
"Perry is getting a cloned body soon. He can't get it if he's not here. Johnson, I just don't want her hurt. I'll keep them in the dark. Once the team is gone, send them letters."
Dugalle sighed. "Done." He drew the gauss pistol from its holster. "And one more thing, take this." He tossed it into Ricky's palm. It was lined with gold fiigree, a black chromium finish, rather than just the black gunmetal of a C-14 impaler. Ricky weighed it in his hand. It had two handles, one for his human hand, and a much larger one for the massive hand of a CMC-300 suit.
"It can load regular gauss Rifle ammo." Dugalle said.
Ricky holstered it.
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Ricky stepped into the bridge of the Dreadnought-class Battlecruiser Abbadon, wearing his power armor. The captain nodded to him.
"Welcome aboard the Abbadon, Lieutenant." Ricky recognized the voice.
"You're that captain that warned me about the nukes."
"Captain Milliardo Darlian, at your service." He was a tall man, even in the slouchy sitting position, with incredibly pale hair and complexion.
"I think this is gonna be a beautiful friendship."
"Not if you're the one who got me aboard this hulk. This thing has an underpowered Yamato cannon, just four laser cannons, and archer missile pods. The frigates have more firepower."
Ricky sat down near on the edge of the raised platform. He sighed. "Then we'll have to be sneaky, won't we? Like wolves in a blizzard." He rubbed his eyes. He was really insane, he realized. If he didn't survive, Dixie would never know. Ricky sent up a quick prayer to Russ, then left the bridge.
This War was done. The next one was waiting…
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Well, that's it. I'm not gonna cover Sam and Dixie in the next sequel, and it may be much, much longer than Hellmarine and Frost War combined.