Deirdre watched with a sinking heart as her city fell to the Spartans.
Four weeks her forces had held it, locking Santiago's troops in a
terrifying house-to-house battle that left little of the once proud city
standing.
A part of her felt outraged at Zakharov. He had promised her that he would aid her within three weeks, and for four, the Gaians had fought. They fought with everything they had, giving up their lives to protect the city until aid arrived.
Her ally failed her. He hope had failed her. Even Planet, incapable of human reasoning, had failed her. She would have cried, if she had any tears left. She would have prayed to God, if she had any faith in his benevolence. Everything that could have been done had been, and now she was at the end. The city had been ground into dust, and it was only a matter of hours before her faction followed in its example.
The Spartans were entering the compound, and it was here that the Gaians were making their last stand. Every available man and woman stood and fired at the enemy until they were killed or until they ran out of ammunition. Looking out, Deirdre stifled her sob. The Council often dubbed her pacifistic people cowards, yet now, looking at unarmed warriors throwing themselves upon the enemy, she felt a rising of pride. Let the Believers laugh, and let the Morganites hoard their energy, when it came to it, every Gaian here had more courage than any of them.
"How long until the Spartans break through, Marco?"
Her general, like her, had hardly slept at all during the week. He shrugged, and breathed out heavily.
"The Guard can hold this place for another day, my lady. Nothing longer. They are exhausted, and the vile Spartan Colonel is resting soldiers when we have to fight continually with tired warriors. It is only a matter of time before we are wiped out."
Deirdre shook her head. It was hopeless. There were no longer any words left to describe how she felt about the situation. Every time she looked around at the faces of her generals, she could feel their despair and their sense of futility.
"I should have surrendered, Marco. Anything would have been better than this."
He looked angry. "No, lady! You did the right thing. Do you think Santiago will have remained sated with your surrender? No, if you allowed her forces within the city, our faction would be a mere slave to her whims. Do not talk of failure, Deirdre."
Lindly, standing to the other side of Deirdre nodded. "The general speaks well, lady. I for one support your choice fully, and look at the people that are dying as we speak, for you and our cause. No, lady. If you had surrendered, then you would have made a mistake, but now? You have made the right, and honourable choice."
Sudden shouts below the tower made Deirdre turn. In the courtyard, small forces of fifty Spartans were slicing through the defenders like a hot knife through butter. Panic seized Deirdre, and she turned.
"Santiago comes, and she brings her Death Patrol. This is the end, gentlemen."
The heavy synthmetal doors opened, and a small division of the Guard entered. Their leader, the youthful Commander Diehl, bowed to Deirdre.
"My lady, we are here. Santiago has broken through our lines, and is fighting through the lower reaches of the tower to bring you to her so- called justice."
Marco also bowed. "My lady. It has been a pleasure to serve you."
The room fell silent, and every general present bowed. Deirdre felt tears sting her eyes, and for a moment, it was all she could do just to stand silently. Finally, she found a voice, and said calmly.
"On this day, our faction is withering. By the morrow, it will have died. Let us remain in the memory at least, of every person on Planet. I for one will not go easily to Santiago. I ask you, stand with me this last time, so that she may know that she can never really defeat us. Can she beat a memory, my friends?"
A resounding "No!" filled the room, and the generals, mainly older men, hastened to outfit themselves with weapons. Diehl pressed a switch, and the doors closed. They boomed with a dark, horrifying clash.
Through the window, Deirdre could hear the sounds of battle. Her people were fighting. Fighting, and dying. They knew Santiago had broken through, and were preparing to sacrifice themselves dearly.
"General Marco. I want to talk with my people for the last time. Open all frequencies, and activate every comm-link."
The general nodded, and after a few seconds, Deirdre was able to walk over to the control screen, and speak. She waited, gathering her thoughts, and then spoke:
"My Gaians. Planet is pleased with our sacrifice. Through our blood on her soil, life anew shall arise. Like a phoenix from the dying ashes, so shall our faction rise once again. I pray that we die bravely, and that through our example, through our courage, determination and bravery, others will be moved to do the same. I call Planet's blessing upon us all. We will know true peace."
Through the sounds of battle, a plunge of roaring shouts could be heard, followed by singing. Deirdre sat, and choked with sorrow. Her people sang their praise to the beauty and majesty of Planet. They sang as they fought, they sang as they killed, and they sang as they died.
The generals had begun singing to, their voices strange, yet carrying a message of hope to the people in the room. Deirdre looked at Lindly. "Goodbye, Lindly. I trust you rest well with Planet."
The woman smiled. "I do my lady."
"Marco, I require a weapon. The leader of the Gaians is no weakling to simper before fools like the Spartans. Come, I require only a pistol."
Marco bowed lower, and reached beside him, throwing her a gun sheathed in silvery material. It had a cold feel to it, and when she hefted it, levelling it directly at the doors, it felt alien and strange.
"I was not bred for war."
The words seemed so strange, yet the generals all acknowledged it. Sighing, Deirdre waited for Santiago to arrive. It was not a long wait.
The doors exploded, and the room was filled with smoke. Without thought, Deirdre fired at the space where the doors had been. The gun seemed to pulsate, and from it blasted a sheet of blue light that struck through the air.
She heard a scream, and then the air was full of the shots. Many of them sliced above her head, and, realising she was in the line of fire, Deirdre through herself behind the throne, and fired. Her brain had begun to act like that of a nanorobot, having one single, prime function. Her fingers operated like a primitive piston; aiming, firing, aiming firing.
The generals and the Guard did the same, and for five minutes the shots continued to be exchanged. Soon though, the Spartans stood in the throne room, weapons at the heads of every Gaian in the room. Standing, Deirdre dropped her gun.
Santiago strode through, her nostrils flaring imperiously. She was a striking woman, more handsome than pretty. She had a faintly square like head, with bronzed flesh. Every inch of her was hard muscle, and she held a barbaric ferocity that gleamed in her eyes. Despite the superior countenance of the woman, standing there, Deirdre felt worth a hundred times more than the Spartan Colonel.
"Does the leader of the Gaians usually hide behind her throne?"
"Does the leader of the Spartans normally bluster like an adolescent male?"
Santiago laughed. "You always were an arrogant hussy, Deirdre. Stand aside. I have won, and if you acknowledge it, you can walk free."
Deirdre chuckled. "Free of any respect and honour, you mean, Corazon."
Santiago shrugged. "You never had any honour, Deirdre. A pacifistic, democratic whore has no need of respect."
Once, that would have annoyed her, now it just amused her that a leader so secure in her victory would have any need of taunts.
"Santiago, you have won. Only a child would still deny that."
A pleasured grin appeared on the Spartan's face, but there remained a trace of tension behind her eyes. "Lady Deirdre, you warriors still fight. I command you to proclaim a surrender. You shall be spared if you order your people to stop their fighting."
"No."
Santiago snarled, and ordered one of the warriors in her Death Patrol: "Shoot any general, Marshal." Turning back to Deirdre, she shook her head disapprovingly. "Lady, what do you say?"
Marco shouted to Deirdre. "Do not do this, Deirdre!"
Santiago pointed at Marco. "Kill the old fool!"
Deirdre moved, running towards Santiago, and shrieking: "No!"
It was too late. A streak of golden laser fire struck Marco full in the chest. He crumpled, and died immediately. A primitive emotion overcame Deirdre, and she leapt at Corazon, spitting at her face.
"You devil! What right have you to do this thing? We are peaceful people, no threat to you!"
Santiago slapped Deirdre, knocking her to the floor. Standing over her, Santiago kicked her in the back. "I have the right of conquest, Gaian. That gives me any right I choose to take. Now call off your forces, or another shall die."
Deirdre snarled. "Do what you like, Santiago! I shall not die humiliated!"
Santiago gave a feral smile. "I do like it when they are harder to break. It offers much more enjoyment. Marshal, kill that one."
She jerked her finger towards a random general, who had time to bow his head towards Deirdre before he was shot. Now the rage was so great the Deirdre merely shook, her knuckles whitening.
"Let me try again, Deirdre. Surrender!"
Deirdre shook her head. She was unable to speak. Laughing, Santiago gestured again. Another general died, this time with a grunt. Outside, the sounds of battle increased, if anything, intensifying dramatically.
"Deirdre?"
Another shake of the head, and another general died.
"You are cold-blooded, Gaian. Aren't you supposed to be peace-loving? Do you enjoy this? Are you beginning to love blood?"
Deirdre breathed out, stopping the sobs. "I enjoy nothing you provide, Santiago."
Once again, another general died. Santiago continued to ask for surrender, and the generals continued to die. With every new death, Deirdre felt a shame to great to hold. She should be dying. Her followers should not be dying for her silence. Yet she could not bring herself to end the war her people were fighting. She had said they would fight to the last, and they would.
It continued, until Lindly stood forward. Her eyes were closed, but her voice murmured, containing a suggestion of power: "Stop."
Santiago raised an eyebrow. "And who are you, woman, to question my authority?"
Lindly smiled. "Your death."
From the ventilation shafts, mindworms seemed to flow, a flood of the creatures, who seemed to roil with pent up frustration. A momentary alarm appeared on Santiago's face, but it was quickly suppressed. She laughed at Deirdre:
"You think your Empath can match mine? You are more foolish than I thought, Deirdre."
From behind her, a tall man about twelve years older than Lindly strode to the fore. His eyes to were closed, and the mindworms halted. Lindly gestured, and the worms began moving towards the Spartans, before being halted by the man.
One Spartan warrior strode to the fore, and aimed his pistol at Lindly. Santiago lashed at him, her clenched fist snapping his neck. She cursed: "Nobody fire at the woman. If you break Nael's concentration, it could spell death for us all."
Deirdre merely watched. Lindly was her most promising Empath, and had been training with mindworms since she was very small, but never before had she wrestled with another talent for control over the boil. The Gaian leader held her breath. Slowly, but surely, the greater power of Lindly won over, and without warning, the mindworms seemed to spring towards Nael, burying themselves in his skull. He died screaming. Santiago shrugged, and said:
"Kill her."
This time the scream from Deirdre's throat was louder than any before. Looking at Santiago, she threw herself to the floor, sobbing: "Please, I surrender. Do not kill her! Please, mercy!"
Santiago pondered for a moment, leaning close towards Deirdre, and then she giggled almost absently. "Too late, Deirdre. Listen, your warriors have died. There is no need for a surrender."
The flash that took Lindly's life seemed to take hours to travel the metre across the air to her chest. With a retching gasp, Lindly doubled over, choking for breath, before she died. Deirdre slapped Santiago hard, and then threw herself over Lindly's body, crying hopelessly.
The room erupted into chaos, as laser shots rang across the room. Noise rose, and it melded into a cacophonic roar. Deirdre was empty of everything. The young girl lying on the floor would have been her successor; she was as much a symbol of her faction as Deirdre was. Not only had Santiago destroyed the city of New Glasgow, but she had killed the dearest friend Deirdre had ever had.
Lost to all developments around her, Deirdre hardly noticed when the urgent message buzzed across the comm-link:
"The Council has come! The Council has come! We are saved! The Spartans flee, we are saved!"
They had come too late.
A part of her felt outraged at Zakharov. He had promised her that he would aid her within three weeks, and for four, the Gaians had fought. They fought with everything they had, giving up their lives to protect the city until aid arrived.
Her ally failed her. He hope had failed her. Even Planet, incapable of human reasoning, had failed her. She would have cried, if she had any tears left. She would have prayed to God, if she had any faith in his benevolence. Everything that could have been done had been, and now she was at the end. The city had been ground into dust, and it was only a matter of hours before her faction followed in its example.
The Spartans were entering the compound, and it was here that the Gaians were making their last stand. Every available man and woman stood and fired at the enemy until they were killed or until they ran out of ammunition. Looking out, Deirdre stifled her sob. The Council often dubbed her pacifistic people cowards, yet now, looking at unarmed warriors throwing themselves upon the enemy, she felt a rising of pride. Let the Believers laugh, and let the Morganites hoard their energy, when it came to it, every Gaian here had more courage than any of them.
"How long until the Spartans break through, Marco?"
Her general, like her, had hardly slept at all during the week. He shrugged, and breathed out heavily.
"The Guard can hold this place for another day, my lady. Nothing longer. They are exhausted, and the vile Spartan Colonel is resting soldiers when we have to fight continually with tired warriors. It is only a matter of time before we are wiped out."
Deirdre shook her head. It was hopeless. There were no longer any words left to describe how she felt about the situation. Every time she looked around at the faces of her generals, she could feel their despair and their sense of futility.
"I should have surrendered, Marco. Anything would have been better than this."
He looked angry. "No, lady! You did the right thing. Do you think Santiago will have remained sated with your surrender? No, if you allowed her forces within the city, our faction would be a mere slave to her whims. Do not talk of failure, Deirdre."
Lindly, standing to the other side of Deirdre nodded. "The general speaks well, lady. I for one support your choice fully, and look at the people that are dying as we speak, for you and our cause. No, lady. If you had surrendered, then you would have made a mistake, but now? You have made the right, and honourable choice."
Sudden shouts below the tower made Deirdre turn. In the courtyard, small forces of fifty Spartans were slicing through the defenders like a hot knife through butter. Panic seized Deirdre, and she turned.
"Santiago comes, and she brings her Death Patrol. This is the end, gentlemen."
The heavy synthmetal doors opened, and a small division of the Guard entered. Their leader, the youthful Commander Diehl, bowed to Deirdre.
"My lady, we are here. Santiago has broken through our lines, and is fighting through the lower reaches of the tower to bring you to her so- called justice."
Marco also bowed. "My lady. It has been a pleasure to serve you."
The room fell silent, and every general present bowed. Deirdre felt tears sting her eyes, and for a moment, it was all she could do just to stand silently. Finally, she found a voice, and said calmly.
"On this day, our faction is withering. By the morrow, it will have died. Let us remain in the memory at least, of every person on Planet. I for one will not go easily to Santiago. I ask you, stand with me this last time, so that she may know that she can never really defeat us. Can she beat a memory, my friends?"
A resounding "No!" filled the room, and the generals, mainly older men, hastened to outfit themselves with weapons. Diehl pressed a switch, and the doors closed. They boomed with a dark, horrifying clash.
Through the window, Deirdre could hear the sounds of battle. Her people were fighting. Fighting, and dying. They knew Santiago had broken through, and were preparing to sacrifice themselves dearly.
"General Marco. I want to talk with my people for the last time. Open all frequencies, and activate every comm-link."
The general nodded, and after a few seconds, Deirdre was able to walk over to the control screen, and speak. She waited, gathering her thoughts, and then spoke:
"My Gaians. Planet is pleased with our sacrifice. Through our blood on her soil, life anew shall arise. Like a phoenix from the dying ashes, so shall our faction rise once again. I pray that we die bravely, and that through our example, through our courage, determination and bravery, others will be moved to do the same. I call Planet's blessing upon us all. We will know true peace."
Through the sounds of battle, a plunge of roaring shouts could be heard, followed by singing. Deirdre sat, and choked with sorrow. Her people sang their praise to the beauty and majesty of Planet. They sang as they fought, they sang as they killed, and they sang as they died.
The generals had begun singing to, their voices strange, yet carrying a message of hope to the people in the room. Deirdre looked at Lindly. "Goodbye, Lindly. I trust you rest well with Planet."
The woman smiled. "I do my lady."
"Marco, I require a weapon. The leader of the Gaians is no weakling to simper before fools like the Spartans. Come, I require only a pistol."
Marco bowed lower, and reached beside him, throwing her a gun sheathed in silvery material. It had a cold feel to it, and when she hefted it, levelling it directly at the doors, it felt alien and strange.
"I was not bred for war."
The words seemed so strange, yet the generals all acknowledged it. Sighing, Deirdre waited for Santiago to arrive. It was not a long wait.
The doors exploded, and the room was filled with smoke. Without thought, Deirdre fired at the space where the doors had been. The gun seemed to pulsate, and from it blasted a sheet of blue light that struck through the air.
She heard a scream, and then the air was full of the shots. Many of them sliced above her head, and, realising she was in the line of fire, Deirdre through herself behind the throne, and fired. Her brain had begun to act like that of a nanorobot, having one single, prime function. Her fingers operated like a primitive piston; aiming, firing, aiming firing.
The generals and the Guard did the same, and for five minutes the shots continued to be exchanged. Soon though, the Spartans stood in the throne room, weapons at the heads of every Gaian in the room. Standing, Deirdre dropped her gun.
Santiago strode through, her nostrils flaring imperiously. She was a striking woman, more handsome than pretty. She had a faintly square like head, with bronzed flesh. Every inch of her was hard muscle, and she held a barbaric ferocity that gleamed in her eyes. Despite the superior countenance of the woman, standing there, Deirdre felt worth a hundred times more than the Spartan Colonel.
"Does the leader of the Gaians usually hide behind her throne?"
"Does the leader of the Spartans normally bluster like an adolescent male?"
Santiago laughed. "You always were an arrogant hussy, Deirdre. Stand aside. I have won, and if you acknowledge it, you can walk free."
Deirdre chuckled. "Free of any respect and honour, you mean, Corazon."
Santiago shrugged. "You never had any honour, Deirdre. A pacifistic, democratic whore has no need of respect."
Once, that would have annoyed her, now it just amused her that a leader so secure in her victory would have any need of taunts.
"Santiago, you have won. Only a child would still deny that."
A pleasured grin appeared on the Spartan's face, but there remained a trace of tension behind her eyes. "Lady Deirdre, you warriors still fight. I command you to proclaim a surrender. You shall be spared if you order your people to stop their fighting."
"No."
Santiago snarled, and ordered one of the warriors in her Death Patrol: "Shoot any general, Marshal." Turning back to Deirdre, she shook her head disapprovingly. "Lady, what do you say?"
Marco shouted to Deirdre. "Do not do this, Deirdre!"
Santiago pointed at Marco. "Kill the old fool!"
Deirdre moved, running towards Santiago, and shrieking: "No!"
It was too late. A streak of golden laser fire struck Marco full in the chest. He crumpled, and died immediately. A primitive emotion overcame Deirdre, and she leapt at Corazon, spitting at her face.
"You devil! What right have you to do this thing? We are peaceful people, no threat to you!"
Santiago slapped Deirdre, knocking her to the floor. Standing over her, Santiago kicked her in the back. "I have the right of conquest, Gaian. That gives me any right I choose to take. Now call off your forces, or another shall die."
Deirdre snarled. "Do what you like, Santiago! I shall not die humiliated!"
Santiago gave a feral smile. "I do like it when they are harder to break. It offers much more enjoyment. Marshal, kill that one."
She jerked her finger towards a random general, who had time to bow his head towards Deirdre before he was shot. Now the rage was so great the Deirdre merely shook, her knuckles whitening.
"Let me try again, Deirdre. Surrender!"
Deirdre shook her head. She was unable to speak. Laughing, Santiago gestured again. Another general died, this time with a grunt. Outside, the sounds of battle increased, if anything, intensifying dramatically.
"Deirdre?"
Another shake of the head, and another general died.
"You are cold-blooded, Gaian. Aren't you supposed to be peace-loving? Do you enjoy this? Are you beginning to love blood?"
Deirdre breathed out, stopping the sobs. "I enjoy nothing you provide, Santiago."
Once again, another general died. Santiago continued to ask for surrender, and the generals continued to die. With every new death, Deirdre felt a shame to great to hold. She should be dying. Her followers should not be dying for her silence. Yet she could not bring herself to end the war her people were fighting. She had said they would fight to the last, and they would.
It continued, until Lindly stood forward. Her eyes were closed, but her voice murmured, containing a suggestion of power: "Stop."
Santiago raised an eyebrow. "And who are you, woman, to question my authority?"
Lindly smiled. "Your death."
From the ventilation shafts, mindworms seemed to flow, a flood of the creatures, who seemed to roil with pent up frustration. A momentary alarm appeared on Santiago's face, but it was quickly suppressed. She laughed at Deirdre:
"You think your Empath can match mine? You are more foolish than I thought, Deirdre."
From behind her, a tall man about twelve years older than Lindly strode to the fore. His eyes to were closed, and the mindworms halted. Lindly gestured, and the worms began moving towards the Spartans, before being halted by the man.
One Spartan warrior strode to the fore, and aimed his pistol at Lindly. Santiago lashed at him, her clenched fist snapping his neck. She cursed: "Nobody fire at the woman. If you break Nael's concentration, it could spell death for us all."
Deirdre merely watched. Lindly was her most promising Empath, and had been training with mindworms since she was very small, but never before had she wrestled with another talent for control over the boil. The Gaian leader held her breath. Slowly, but surely, the greater power of Lindly won over, and without warning, the mindworms seemed to spring towards Nael, burying themselves in his skull. He died screaming. Santiago shrugged, and said:
"Kill her."
This time the scream from Deirdre's throat was louder than any before. Looking at Santiago, she threw herself to the floor, sobbing: "Please, I surrender. Do not kill her! Please, mercy!"
Santiago pondered for a moment, leaning close towards Deirdre, and then she giggled almost absently. "Too late, Deirdre. Listen, your warriors have died. There is no need for a surrender."
The flash that took Lindly's life seemed to take hours to travel the metre across the air to her chest. With a retching gasp, Lindly doubled over, choking for breath, before she died. Deirdre slapped Santiago hard, and then threw herself over Lindly's body, crying hopelessly.
The room erupted into chaos, as laser shots rang across the room. Noise rose, and it melded into a cacophonic roar. Deirdre was empty of everything. The young girl lying on the floor would have been her successor; she was as much a symbol of her faction as Deirdre was. Not only had Santiago destroyed the city of New Glasgow, but she had killed the dearest friend Deirdre had ever had.
Lost to all developments around her, Deirdre hardly noticed when the urgent message buzzed across the comm-link:
"The Council has come! The Council has come! We are saved! The Spartans flee, we are saved!"
They had come too late.
