Chapter 43 - War

Percy ended up taking some time off. And despite Spec Ops Command's best efforts, he did not feel the slightest bit guilty about that. They left their suggestions and hints about potential missions that really had to be done, and he roundly ignored their very existence. He needed time to sort through everything that had happened.

He actually considered going back to Earth for some time. That was what he'd been planning to do, anyway. He'd been just a few months shy of his 50th anniversary as a Spec Ops Operator when shit had hit the fan. An entire year of leave was right there, waiting for him.

But he decided against it. He felt sure that if he went back to Earth now, he would never come back to Chaos' Army. And angry though he was, he needed to be in Chaos' Army when the war eventually happened back on Earth. He'd be at a major disadvantage if he wasn't. But after the war? He'd be free to leave, if he so chose. Was that what he wanted? He wasn't sure anymore.

Murderous piece of shit though he was, John had been correct about one thing. The spell was broken. Chaos' Army no longer had the appeal it once had. He felt so alone. There was one person he could count on - really count on - and he had no idea when he'd see her again. He had once thought that Chaos was another person he could count on to be on his side, no matter what. That had changed. After she'd been unwilling to utter a single apology after setting a group of killers on him. Not one apology.

That had probably been the worst aspect about everything that had happened. The fact that Chaos seemed to expect that Percy would just go back to normal after having been betrayed so thoroughly.

Now, Percy sat in his apartment, trying not to remember the last time he'd taken some time off. It had just been him and Sara, curled up on the couch, watching movies. That had been bliss. He tried not to remember the feeling of her body wrapped against his. He tried not to remember the smell of her hair.

Percy felt stuck. He couldn't comfortably carry on in the Army, and he couldn't go back to Earth. Can't go forwards, can't go backwards. Purgatory.

To his relief, Pricela and Moril took a few days off between their own Operations. They swore up and down that it wasn't to spend time with him, and him being on Chaos' Realm with nothing to do was just an unhappy accident that they'd have to deal with, but he knew better. Between the covert glances they threw his way when they thought he wouldn't notice, and the fact that they were determinedly not talking about what had happened, gave them away.

Percy had actually been forced to bring up the subject himself one day.

"So, are we just not going to talk about what happened?"

They were in the Spec Ops bar, sipping at beers at around midday. The place was virtually empty, which was a blessing to Percy. He'd been getting far many more stares and glances than usual after everything.

"Well, Percy, we thought you might like to just move past it," Moril said slowly.

"Fuck that, you thought he might like that, Moril," Pricela said, as brash as always.

"Sure, I'll just go fuck myself then," Moril said, rolling his eyes.

"We'd all appreciate that, Moril, thank you. Look, Percy, what the hell happened? I mean, really happened. The rumors have been insane."

Percy raised an eyebrow, "And what might those rumors be, exactly?"

"Well, a lot of people are saying that you killed your entire team because they were incompetent, and Chaos covered it up for you. Yes, Percy, we know that's not true," she said, raising a hand in a 'yeah yeah' gesture when she saw him open his mouth, "But something happened, right? Were you actually on the run?"

Percy sighed. The rumor mill was a universal concept, and one that he would shatter if he were at all able.

"Yeah, I was on the run. Someone did kill my team, but it obviously wasn't me. Someone was trying to frame me."

"Wait, you really did get a team? A team of your own?" Moril asked.

"Yeah. It was only ever meant to be a temporary thing. Task Force Gothic Serpent, we were called. We were supposed to observe a meeting between a Colonel in the PAFL on Lomik and an unknown contact that was supposed to be supplying them with arms. One of my team sold us out, and the contact killed them all when I'd left the apartment where we'd set up our OP. Framed me for the whole thing."

Pricela and Moril sat back, and processed that.

"One man killed your entire team? Except the guy that sold you out, presumably."

"Yeah. I don't know who he was, but he had some serious training. And some interesting powers. I met with him and tried to catch him, but he just disappeared right before I could. I don't mean like shadow travel. Literally just vanished. And when I caught up to the guy that had sold me out, this Assassin, Chaos interrogated him herself. She asked him a question about who he was working for, and just before he got the words out, he exploded."

They blinked at him.

"What do you mean, he exploded?" Moril asked, befuddled.

"I mean, his entire body went off like a breaching charge. I've never seen anything like it."

"Shitting fuck," Pricela said quietly.

"I might have put it differently, but yeah," Moril commented.

Pricela idly offered him a rude hand gesture.

Percy found himself smiling.

Ok, there were two more people he could count on. He didn't see them very much either.

"So, what does this mean?" Moril asked.

Percy leaned forwards on his elbows and lowered his voice.

"Well, I've been thinking. Chaos told me years ago that there was going to be a big war on Earth. She was making a big deal of it. And now I'm wondering; what if the war is a little broader than she told me? What if this is it, and it goes way beyond one planet?"

Pricela and Moril exchanged a glance.

"You mean, a multi-planet war?" Moril asked.

Percy nodded.

"Percy, there hasn't been one of those in… well, shit, a lot longer than I've been part of the Army, anyway. Usually, stuff like that gets nipped in the bud before it can evolve into something really bad."

"When was the last one?" Percy asked, already planning his next trip to the library.

Pricela and Moril shared another look.

"Maybe… two or three hundred thousand years ago? It was way before our time. I used to know a guy when I was in Assassin Branch. He was ancient. Something like four hundred thousand years old. He used to tell me about the one he was part of. The 7th Great War. Apparently, it was simultaneous conflicts on 25,000 worlds. They were pulling recruits out of Basic to fight. It was a real mess."

Well, it would be easy to find in the library, at least. An event like that; there would be copious records.

And that was exactly what Percy went to search for, once the OTC trio had finished up.

The records were, in fact, incredibly detailed. It was a dry read; historical documents written with no passion or heart. It was a by-the-books account of exactly what had happened and where. There were hundreds of thousands of pages written on the war, which Percy had thought was fair. If it involved all or most of Chaos' Army members stretched across conflicts on 25,000 worlds, then there would be a lot to go over.

Percy spent most of his day reading, and returned every day for the next week, reading about who had done what, where, and why. It was interesting stuff, aside from the dry narration.

And it worried him deeply.

He was starting to see the signs.

The entire conflict had started small. There had been the tiniest uptick in activity throughout a certain region of the Universe. Hardly noticeable, really. But it was definitely there. There were more assassinations, more wars, and more terrorist attacks. Then it slowly got worse and worse over the course of several years. Chaos had to dedicate more and more personnel to that region. Then, completely out of the blue, the war kicked off like an explosion.

Literally, an explosion.

Exactly one hundred Chaos' Army bases on various planets had been blown up simultaneously. It was a horrific attack that killed nearly 3,500 people, and a clear declaration of war.

The problem was, Chaos had no idea who had just declared war against her.

But she would find out over the next year, and the attacks in that region got worse and worse, to the point that they began to recognize common tactics, strategies, and weapons. It was only then, that they fully understood the scope of what they were up against, and what was being done to them. This provided them an advantage, of course. Knowledge is power, know your enemy, data is king. Each pithy expression was extremely true.

The knowledge that they were being attacked by a single, unified enemy, was enough that they were allowed to see just how connected a lot of the unrest was. They were able to strategize more effectively, and fight with greater odds of success.

The war was officially ended 2,459 days after the initial bombing. There was no exact death toll, but there were several estimates. Each of them put a knot in Percy's stomach.

One thing that the historical texts were surprisingly - and frustratingly - vague about, was the actual enemy they were facing. They only went as far as saying that one individual or group of individuals, had put together an Army much like Chaos' and used it to wage war. The war ended when the person or persons leading the group were found and killed by a group of 30 Spec Ops Operators, supported by no less than 10 Infantry Battalions, each consisting of somewhere between 1,000-2,000 troops.

It must have been one hell of a battle.

Percy thought back to Lomik. An operation that should have lasted a few months, had been ongoing for more than three years now, occupying an estimated 5% of Chaos' forces. Percy was noticing an uptick in political assassinations. Ghilp had been a Spec Ops Operator who'd become a contract assassin. What if he hadn't been freelance? What if he was working for one specific individual?

He needed to talk to Chaos.

Percy left the library and went straight to the TR and up to the top floor. He didn't bother knocking on the door. He couldn't sense anyone's presence inside, which could mean either one of two things. Either the room was empty, or it was just Chaos. If the room was empty, then there was no point knocking. If it was just Chaos, then there was still no point knocking.

It turned out she was inside. And she was already looking up at him expectantly as he walked into her office, meaning she had sensed him before he'd even laid a finger on her door handle. That annoyed him, for reasons he couldn't entirely put into words.

"Percy," she said in greeting.

Percy nodded back, unsure of how to approach her.

Their last conversation had been immediately after he'd proved his innocence in the whole debacle with TF Gothic Serpent. Things had gotten… heated.

"Is there something I can help you with?" she asked after a few moments of awkward silence.

"Oh, right, yeah. Listen, I've been thinking…"

He told her his suspicions. He'd come to the meeting prepared. He had notes and dates and data to present her, rather than conjecture. If Chaos didn't take this seriously, then it could cost millions of lives.

Fortunately, she did take things seriously.

"Shit," she muttered once Percy had finished, head in her hands, "How haven't I seen this already?"

Percy couldn't help but feel a little bad for her. Whatever their personal issues, Chaos had just found out that another war was about to kick off, when the last one like it had lasted nearly 7 years and taken trillions of lives. Percy was a little shaken himself, and he hadn't even seen it.

"You know, before I left Earth, my dad said that the curse of being immortal and living for so long, is that you become all too aware of patterns and sequences. You become aware of them, and you can't help but repeat them anyway, because 'maybe this time it's different'. If that's true for him and the Olympians, it's gotta be even more applicable to you."

She looked up at him from between her fingers. A ghost of a small smile appeared on her face.

"Always my favorite, your father."

Percy smiled too, "I'll be sure to tell him. Zeus will love that."

Chaos' smile widened slightly, and she sat back in her chair, watching him carefully.

"If you were in my situation, what would you do?"

Percy raised an eyebrow, and said nothing.

"Clearly, you've done some studying on all this. You have a more objective point of view than I do. Not to mention, a more recent one. And based on your performance in Spec Ops, you have a gift for war. I value your opinion quite highly, Percy."

Percy wasn't sure what he thought about that 'a gift for war' part. Was that who he was? True, he supposed, war had taken up the majority of his life. The entirety of his life, if he was honest with himself. But there was more to him than that, wasn't there?

He was more than that.

Was he?

He shook his head suddenly, as if trying to physically uproot the thoughts from his mind.

"I'd gather all your highest ranking people from each Branch, and see what they think. Keep in mind, that all 7 of the previous multi-planet wars were contained within a single region. Everything I've brought you today, supports that. It's all within the G-9 Galaxy. We should shore up our defenses in the region without being too overt about it. Get the Spy Branch working overtime. They'll be able to pick up on anything going on without being too obvious. You should also get Soldier Branch running more joint exercises; both with their own sub-Branches, and other Branches entirely. If another multi-planet war like the last one kicks off, then the Navy, Infantry, and Air Force need to work together like a single organism. They're pretty good at the moment, but they could be better. Just keep in mind, that we have an advantage right now. They, whoever they are, don't know that we're onto them. That means they won't rush all-out war. They'll wait until they have everything set up just-so. We need to use that time to get ready, cause once it goes off, it'll be chaos, if you'll pardon the term. And as a side note, make sure all your senior officials and you yourself, are careful who gets to know all this. Carro showed us all that we don't know who we can trust around here."

Chaos said nothing for a few moments, contemplating what he'd told her.

Eventually, she said, "Fair enough. That makes sense to me. And, Percy, I'd like for you to sit in on my war council meetings."

He raised an eyebrow at that.

"Are you serious?"

She smiled and nodded.

Chaos' war council comprised several of the oldest, highest ranking members in her Army, from each Branch. There were several hundred thousand years of experience in that room, not counting Chaos herself. To be invited in, as comparatively young as he was, was an immense honor. He'd be influencing the course of the entire war in that room. The others would hate it, undoubtedly, but they'd just have to deal with it.

"I'd be honored."

Chaos smiled once again.

"Listen, I wanted to ask you something."

She considered him for a second, and Percy got the feeling she already knew what he wanted to ask her.

"Go on," she relented.

"Who was the opposition last time? Like you said, I've done my homework. None of the documents say who, exactly, was leading the fight against you."

From the look on her face, he hadn't surprised her with his question.

"I don't really like people knowing who that was. Not many do. But, Percy, despite what's been going on between us lately, I do trust you."

She took a deep breath, and steadied herself.

"The man who led his forces against me in the last multi-planet war, the 7th, was the same man who led his forces against me in the 6 other multi-planet wars. And I feel confident enough that it's the same man again. My… twin."

That floored him.

Percy had heard all kinds of stories and myths about Chaos when he'd been on Earth, before he'd joined her himself. She was hardly a frequent topic of conversation, but she came up now and then. But never had he ever heard anything about a twin.

"What do you mean, a twin?"

Chaos shrugged helplessly, "I don't know, what do you imagine when you hear about someone's twin?"

"A bad soap opera?"

She glared at him.

Percy raised his arms in surrender.

"Alright, what's the story?"

Chaos sighed deeply, and seemed to deflate slightly.

"Ok. The stories you will have heard about me, are mostly true. It's just that, instead of creating everything single-handedly, I shared the work with my twin. At first, everything was wonderful. All the civilizations we had fostered were thriving, and it was just the most amazing thing to see. Knowing that we had created something so special, was one of the proudest feelings I've ever experienced.

"But then things started to go wrong. People had free will, you see. That's what makes the things they do, matter. But free will comes with certain… drawbacks. People can use that free will to do some truly horrible things. It started out simple enough. A person did something bad, we punished them, and moved on. But as it became more frequent, my brother, Order, became more and more outraged. He was always more attuned to the victims' suffering than I was. Not that I was unsympathetic, of course. I was deeply saddened every time they were hurt. It's just that he felt their suffering on a more personal level.

"Eventually, he got sick of it. He told me he wasn't going to sit around and wait for people to get hurt anymore. Merely punishing the perpetrators was not enough. He wanted to stop them from hurting innocent people, before they even got the chance. I wasn't entirely sure what he meant at first, so I just went along with it. I told him to do as he pleased. He was my brother. I trusted him. I loved him. And then I realized what he was doing. What it meant, to do as he'd said. He was just killing anyone he thought might one day grow up to hurt people. It was too far. I told him it had to stop. That he didn't have the right to end lives as he saw fit, for no reason whatsoever. He disagreed.

"We fought. It wasn't pretty. But I won. The thing is, Order is one of the most powerful being to ever exist. You can't just… kill a being like that. They simply won't die. It's not within my power, which means it isn't within anyone's. So, after I'd won our fight, I built a prison for him. I channeled all the power I could muster, into building a place where he couldn't escape. I put all kinds of wards on the place that would dampen his power, and built the place out of the strongest materials I could create.

"I hoped that would be the end of it. And for a time, it was. The Universe was allowed to blossom, and grow into something quite beautiful. More beautiful, of course. But he escaped. I still don't know how he did it. He always had more raw strength than I did though. My power lies in my ability to wield it cleverly and efficiently. He's more of a blunt object. But, blunt objects can be pretty damn useful for breaking out of places. Once he'd escaped my prison, he gathered some forces, and tried to fight me. I was able to gather forces of my own, and fought him back. That was when my Army was founded.

"And of course, I faced the same problem once I'd won again. He simply couldn't be killed. Truth be told, I'm not sure I would have, even if I'd had the power to. I sent him back to his prison, and strengthened the wards as much as I could. A few hundred million years later, he escaped again. And the cycle repeated 6 more times. The last multi-planet war, was just three hundred thousand years ago. I honestly didn't think I'd have to deal with him again for much longer than that. But here we are, I suppose."

Percy sat back in his chair, and took a deep breath. So that was who they were fighting? Chaos' twin brother? A being at least as powerful as Chaos herself? What the hell was he supposed to do about that?

"Are you sure it's him? I mean, it might be someone else? He might still be in the prison you made."

Chaos shook her head sadly. There was a distant look in her eye that told him that even though she was in her office with him, she was actually somewhere else entirely. He hated seeing that look on her face. If the mere thought of her brother being free again was doing this to her, then he hated to imagine what would happen in the years to come.

"No, I'm sure he's escaped again. I'll check once we're done talking, but I highly doubt he's there. I'll give him this; he's never managed to hide his escapes from me for this long before. Usually, I find out he's on the loose within a few months."

There was a sinking feeling in Percy's stomach.

But then he figured, Order had to be beatable. Chaos had fought him a total of 8 times, and she'd always come out on top. So, surely, they would win again. They had to. Didn't they?

Chaos looked up at him, and seemed to master her features, bringing them back to the look of serene calm she often wore.

"Now, do you think you want to get back to work? I dare say that we'll be getting quite busy."

Percy took a deep breath, and nodded.

"Yeah, I'm good to go."

"Excellent. And by the way, would you mind not mentioning what I've told you about Order? Not many people know, and I'd prefer to keep it that way."

Percy thought for a second before nodding. He left the TR, and went straight to Spec Ops HQ.

—-

A year later, Percy was back on Lomik. This time he wasn't leading any kind of surveillance unit or anything like that. He was the tip of the spear. He was there, doing exactly what he had spent his entire life doing. He was fighting in the thick of the action.

The past year had been an eventful one. Chaos' Army had been allowed 6 months of preperation time, and then the enemy had finally caught on and launched an all out offensive. No more pussyfooting around with proxies and cutouts. They were directly fighting now.

Since hostilities had become blatant, Lomik had taken on an almost personal worth to each party. They each wanted it. As a result, it became the centerpiece of the war. That was where a soldier was most likely to get into a gunfight. So, that's where Percy spent the majority of his time.

Chaos' Army's strategy was a simple one. Order's forces had managed to ingratiate themselves with the local guerilla population back when they'd been the silent benefactors of their fight for freedom. As a result, that guerilla population was more willing than ever, to take up arms and fight to the death.

Things got complicated here though. Order's forces had a distinct look and feel about them. Percy and the rest of the members of Chaos' Army on Lomik could generally take a look at a group of people and figure out if they were local or not. But the local guerilla population was, by definition, local. They had grown up on those streets, and they looked just like anyone else. Percy and the rest were essentially living lie detectors, but there was a point where it became too much to process, and bad guys would slip through the cracks.

Which meant that Chaos' Army was taking off the gloves. They made announcements in the various key cities of Lomik, for the civilian population to leave the area, as it would soon become unsafe. Of course, not even the dumbest General thought that would work entirely, Percy was relieved to see. There were plenty of people who couldn't leave for a myriad of reasons. Some were too sick, some simply couldn't find somewhere else to go, especially if they had a large family, and plenty of others simply didn't want to. They had grown up there, after all. Why should they have to leave? Percy could see their point, and wondered what he might do if he was in their situation.

Within weeks, there were half a dozen all-out warzones on Lomik, each of them in a major city. The problem was, cities had buildings. Who'd have thought? Chaos' Army couldn't send in the cavalry with their tanks, nor could they level the cities with their drone strikes, because of the afformentioned civilian population. Which meant the Infantry was allowed to come out and play, and Spec Ops was leading the charge.

During the 6 months of preperation time before the war had kicked off in earnest, Percy himself had spearheaded the call for more interconnectivity between units. It had taken a lot, and Percy still owed a lot of favors to a lot of people, but it had been well worth it. His efforts had been aided by the focusing of the war. Because Lomik had a kind of symbolic importance, a lot of concentration was being put on it. With the amount of personnel on the planet, Percy had been allowed to test out his interconnectivity in a way that he simply might not have been able to before.

The way he organised it, Spec Ops Operators were leading the charge into the various cities. Their job was to clear each and every building the came across, in an organised sweep across the cities. Once Spec Ops were finished, the regular Infantry would come in and secure the building that had just been cleared. That way, there would be no doubling back. Then they would move on to the next building, then the next, and then the next. They would carry on like that until the entire city was under Chaos' Army's control. Once CA established control over the key cities, it would simply be a matter of securing them, while Spec Ops chased the enemy combatants across the rest of the planet. It would only be a matter of time. Once CA had secured the planet, holding it would be easy. It was simply the initial struggle that would be a pain.

Which led Percy to where he was at the moment.

It was the middle of the night, and he was going on his 8th raid in the last 2 hours. Chaos' Spies, still hard at work, had picked up some intelligence on a local explosives manufacturer. Not a member of the overarching opposition; just a local guy who knew how to blow shit up. And the shit he was blowing up, was killing a lot of civilians, and injuring a lot of CA personnel. He had to go.

Chao's Spies had finally tracked him to a house a kilometer away, just as Percy had finished his 7th regularly scheduled raid of the evening. They had relayed the address to him, and Percy had simply nodded at 2 other Spec Ops Operators to come with him to bring the guy into custody, or put him in a body bag.

Those 2 other Operators, happened to be Pricela and Moril.

He'd been overjoyed to learn that they'd been among the team sent to Lomik, for two reasons. The first, was the simplest; he was really happy to get to spend more time with them. The second, was because Lomik was receiving the very best personnel Chaos' Army could send. Sure, there were some hotshots getting sent to the various other planets that had erupted in all-out war, but most of the buzz was centered around Lomik. So, the fact that Pricela and Moril had made the cut to be sent to the most exciting place there was, spoke very highly of their skills and reputations among the higher ups.

Ever since they'd arrived on Lomik, the trio had gone out on countless raids and various missions. It was damn fun working with them in the real world.

Percy, Pricela, and Moril jumped into an armored jeep and quickly drove to the house, as Percy filled them in on the way.

The bombmaker had a family, which complicated things. Dealing with civilians was never fun. Especially if they were there to arrest or kill their family member. But this guy could not be allowed to continue making bombs. They'd just take him out and deal with the fallout later.

Percy pulled the jeep to a stop and the trio jumped out. No one had to speak. They each knew what they would do. Percy would take the front door. Moril would take the back door. Pricela would go in through a window, since she was the smallest. That would give them total coverage on three compass points of the house. They'd clear towards each other, securing the ground floor, and then move upstairs together.

Moril went right and Pricela went left. Percy wanted to give them a few seconds to get in position before he burst through the door. It was best for them all to enter at the same time.

As he waited for them, Percy kept flat against the exterior wall of the house, trying not to stand out too much. There was a reason they preferred to do these raids at night. It gave them a major advantage over their enemy. Every member of Chaos' Army could see perfectly in the dark. The natives could not. Percy and his team could move in total silence, without beeing seen. Stealth was an important power to have.

Just as Percy sensed the others getting in position, he heard Moril spin suddenly and open fire at something behind him.

Then all hell broke loose.

What was essentially an army appeared out of nowhere. Percy was sure they hadn't been there the entire time. They had to have been transported in suddenly. That was a pain in the ass.

As Percy ducked as low as he could and returned fire, he sensed the occupants of the house getting antsy. He knew he had to move. The bombmaker was still his mission.

"Breach! Breach!" he called out to Pricela and Moril.

Moving as a single organism, they each flew through their respective entry points into the relative safety of the house. Percy used shadows as a battering ram to blow the door off its hinges and flowed into the house, immediately spotting a woman who he presumed was the bombmaker's wife, on the landing in front of the stairs that lead to the upper floor. She was holding a rifle aimed directly at his chest.

Acting on instinct, Percy shot her twice in the head, annoyed at himself for having to do so, at her for making him, and most of all, at the bombmaker for sending his own wife downstairs to die at his hand.

Even though there was a clusterfuck going on outside, the Spec Ops trio still cleared the ground floor before they did anything else. They needed to make sure nothing was about to jump out at them. When they were sure it was clear, Percy pulled out his radio and called in to the TOC.

"TOC, this is Papa Julliet 93-192. Intel just sent us into a fucking ambush. Requesting Infantry support at our location, now!"

"Copy that, Papa, troops on the way," came the cool reply from the TOC.

Nothing to add, Percy just turned to Pricela and Moril and nodded.

Together, they moved up the staircase.

They could all sense the bombmaker and his children in a bedroom directly in front of the stairs. But that didn't mean they could just go in there and take him out. They needed to clear the rest of the floor first. Order's forces had proved that they could make themselves invisible to CA's enhanced senses, so each room needed to be physically cleared in case someone was in there, waiting to jump out at them. A few Spec Ops Operators had lost their lives because of incidents like that already. There would be no more.

As they got to the top of the stairs, Pricela had a decision to make. She was at the front of the stack, as the smallest among them. She could either go straight ahead and deal with the bombmaker, or turn right or left and clear the rest of the rooms first. She chose to turn right. Which made Moril turn left. Percy could then go straight ahead and take out the bombmaker.

Taking a second to check out the layout of the room before he entered, Percy sensed that the bombmaker was not only keeping his two children in the room with him, fully expecting armed gunfighters to come in at any moment, but he was actually taking cover behind them. He had the two kids, an older boy and a younger girl, maybe 7 and 5 years old respectively, standing shoulder to shoulder. He was crouched behind them, aiming his assault rifle at the door in the space between their heads.

Fucking scum.

Percy paused before entering. He could sense the man's head because he was breathing so hard. He could visualise exactly where it was. Percy aimed through the door, closing his eyes to enhance the rest of his senses.

He pulled the trigger twice in a rapid double tap, and sensed the man collapse in a lifeless heap behind his children. The kids screamed and the brother dragged his sister to hide in the corner.

Percy flew into the room and moved so that he was standing between the kids and their scum father. They didn't need to see this. Percy shot the man in the head again, to make absolutely sure he was dead. Then he turned to the kids.

They were, understandably, terrified. Percy was standing at his reduced, but still imposing height of 6'3. He was dressed in body armor and a combat helmet. And there was a big gun strapped to his chest. And he had just killed their father.

He crouched down so they were around equal in height, and took off his helmet. He tried a friendly smile at them. It probably wasn't very convincing.

"Imba nectum?" he asked.

'Was that your father?' it meant.

The boy nodded.

"Yunja allec bunva?"

'Did your mother go downstairs?"

The boy nodded again.

Percy sighed and tried not to let his sadness be noticed by the children.

"Gjilo ale cuprose?"

'Do you have other family nearby?'

The boy thought for a second before nodding shakily.

"Rialt by chigan."

'We have an aunt.'

Percy nodded and asked the boy where she lived. The boy told him.

Just then, Pricela and Moril entered the room.

They looked around, saw the dead body, and Percy talking to two small children, and assumed what had happened.

"What now?" Moril asked.

Percy took a deep breath and rose to his regular height.

"They've got an aunt that lives nearby. We have to take them there."

"Perce, I'm not sure if you've noticed, but there's a war going on out there," Pricela pointed out.

She was right, too. The Infantry had arrived in record time, and were currently engaging the local guerillas outside. Leading two small children through all that would be a recipe for disaster.

"We'll leave through the window. We can take back allies. Keep to the shadows."

They nodded. Percy smashed the bedroom window and used shadows to make a staircase down to the ground. Percy went down first, keeping his rifle raised and scanning for threats. Pricela followed, holding the small girl's hand, with a pistol in the other hand. Moril did the same with the boy.

They proceeded through the dark backstreets, Percy in the lead, trying not to be noticed. The aunt's house was around 200 meters away, and each step was a risk. If they got noticed by the opposing forces, then they were in some serious trouble. As it was, Percy ended up having to take out a few bad guys here and there. But they couldn't figure out where the shots were coming from because his rifle was suppressed.

The strange procession finally reached its destination. Percy and the others urged the kids forward to knock on the door, and then stepped back into the shadows to make sure they weren't seen. The kids waited on the doorstep for a few moments, as Percy, Pricela, and Moril kept their heads on a swivel to make sure no one came stumbling upon the scene.

After what felt like an hour, the door opened. A slightly older woman was standing in the doorway, and she ushered the kids inside the moment she saw them. Just before the door closed, Percy saw the boy look back over his shoulder and wave in his direction. Forgetting for a moment that he couldn't be seen, Percy waved back.

That poor kid had lost both of his parents in one night, and he was maybe 7 years old. Even worse, Percy himself had been the one to put the bullets into both of them.

He didn't regret it. Both of them had been holding automatic weapons aimed directly at him, with the intention of killing him. The father had been a maker of explosives which harmed CA personnel and civilians alike. He was a shitstain who needed to be removed.

But none of that was the kid's fault. Just like it hadn't been his fault that he'd been there to witness his father's death himself. He'd be feeling that grief the moment the shock wore off, Percy was sure. He'd probably take up arms himself, once he was old enough. If the war lasted that long, Percy himself might have to put a bullet in him. That was a depressing thought.

But for now, he went back to war.

—-

A few months later, Percy, Pricela, and Moril were hanging out at an Infantry base. They didn't really have much to do. They'd been going out on raids every single night for months, and it had been deemed that they were to be given some down time to recharge their batteries. They'd argued against it, naturally, but there was nothing to do.

They'd been offered a ride off Lomik, but decided to stay, in the hope that something urgent might come up, and they'd get the chance to get back into the field earlier than expected. Within hours, they'd come to regret that hope.

They were sitting around a table in the Spec Ops living quarters, playing cards with some other Operators. It was a decent enough way to waste time. Certainly better than obsessing over how the Operational Team was doing. Unless their minds were engaged, every Operator on the base would torture themselves over what the Operational teams were doing. Then those teams would return to the base, and rub in the fact that they'd just been out downrange while everyone else was curled up at home with a cup of tea and a book.

Since they'd be tortured as soon as the teams returned, there was no reason to torture themselves in the mean time. So, cards.

They were all laughing at a joke one of the Operators had just made, when the door to their team room burst open.

One of their officers came bursting in, clearly out of breath, which was a rare sight.

Officers in Spec Ops played a very different role than their counterparts in the more conventional counterparts in the Army. Instead of going out and donig things, they mainly stayed on the base, and worked on the management side of the Operations. They dealt with the higher ups, and got authorisation for the team they were assigned to. The dirty work was left to the Operators, and the officers would supervise and coordinate things from above. Most officers in Spec Ops knew not to micromanage too much though, instead allowing the Operators to do their thing. This, generally, earned them their due respect from the Operators.

So, seeing one in a state of physical tiredness, was something a lot of the guys had never witnessed.

"Jesus, Nack, sit down, take a load off," Percy said upon seeing the obsessively composed officer.

"Guys, shit just hit the fan," Nack gasped out.

Percy furrowed his brows and forced an expression of concern onto his face. Inwardly, he was crowing. Finally, he, Pricela, and Moril were going back out into the field, leave be damned.

"What happened?" one of the other Operators asked.

"Delta team just got wiped out."

Percy's face went slack.

Delta team was a team of 12 Operators who had left the base a mere two hours prior for a night of missions.

Once the war on Lomik had kicked off in earnest, some officers had put together teams of Operators for ease of reference. There were several of them going out every night anyway, and they'd work together all the time, so why not make it official? It wasn't quite the same situation as the Dead Men though. They would be Delta team for as long as they were on Lomik, as part of the war effort. After that, they'd disband and continue serving as singleton Operators, just like most Spec Ops Operators.

The teams system was one Percy approved of a lot. It helped foster unit cohesion a ton. That being said, he wasn't part of one himself. Not officially, anyway. He, Pricela, and Moril were basically their own team. They went out on Operators together far more often that they went out separately.

There were currently 8 Spec Ops teams in play on Lomik, with Percy, Pricela, and Moril not officially attached to any of them, but generally recognised as a team of their own. The deal was, seven teams would be on-duty on any given day, and one would be resting. The resting team would be out of the fight for two weeks. Once those two weeks were up, they'd get back to it, and the next team would take their two weeks off, and on and on it went.

And apparently, they'd just lost a team.

"What the fuck do you mean, they got wiped out?" Percy asked, any trace of levity gone as horror flooded his system.

The officer shrugged helplessly, and gestured for everyone in the room to follow him.

The Operators sitting around the table got up so fast, their chairs went flying across the room, and dashed after the officer.

They went to the TOC, where Percy saw a video on one of the large screens in there. The video was almost certainly live footage. It showed the remains of a house. Though there wasn't much left of it. It was more of a heap now, than anything else.

"Delta team was in the Neald district. They'd just got a tip about a senior bomb maker from an underling they'd just captured, and decided to follow up on it. They made their way to the address he gave them, and the moment they were inside, the whole damn place exploded. We just saw it on ISR."

ISR, stood for Intelligence, Surveillance, and Reconnaissance. Based on the image Percy could see on the screen, it likely meant drone overwatch.

"Fuck," Percy said softly, still in shock, "Any survivors?"

"We haven't seen any yet. You're cleared to go out there and look for any."

Percy nodded without another word and sprinted out of the TOC, followed closely by Pricela, Moril, and every other Operator that had just been in the team room. They all charged straight to their cages, which was where they kept their gear.

Percy navigated to his own, and stepped inside, already planning what he would bring with him. This was just going to be a search and rescue mission, so there was no need to pack heavy. He was amost certain that they would be accompanied by an armored Infantry detachment, so they would keep any hostiles at bay.

He strapped a combat vest to his torso, grabbed his rifle and a few spare magazines, along with a few smoke and frag grenades.

Within 30 seconds, he and everyone else were ready. They sprinted to the main departures area, where they were shown where they'd be able to safely shadow travel to. They made the trip and then ran the rest of the way to the Neald district.

The collapsed house was easy to find. They just had to follow the scent of smoke. They arrived within 10 minutes of leaving the TOC, and immediately got to work. They used shadows to shift rubble, and called out for anyone alive under the wreckage. Percy couldn't hear any heartbeats underneath it all, but didn't let that deter him. They might still be alive under there.

A battle was raging all around them. A heavy Infantry division was surrounding the broken down house, and they were fighting like hell. Heavy Infantry, meant a mixture of conventional Infantry soldiers, along with supporting tanks and APCs with heavy guns on top. There was precious little in the Universe that they wouldn't be able to stop. But that didn't mean it would be easy.

The sounds of screams was flooding Percy's ears, and he recognised it as a mixture of his own people, mixed in with that of his enemy. It was all melting together to make a wall of cacophonous sound. The smell was hitting him too. There was smoke and cordite from the explosives that had brought the house down, and plenty more coming from spent rifle ammunition, and tank shells.

It all mixed in with the adrenaline coursing through his system, and made him want to throw up right there and then. But he tried to ignore the feeling, and kept searching through the rubble to find his missing brothers. He was half-hoping that he wouldn't find anything. There was little doubt in his mind that if he found one of his guys, the sight of the broken and mangled body would be something he'd never forget.

After a few more minutes of searching, Percy finally found something. An Operator called Deek, was laying buried under the destroyed concrete. Percy hadn't even known he was there, until he'd uncovered him. Deek was in rough shape. His entire body looked dented. He probably hadn't been hit by the explosive, but rather been crushed under the debris.

Hesitantly, Percy checked his pulse and was astounded to find something there. It was incredibly weak, but it was there.

"I've got a live one!" he screamed.

Without another word, Percy put an arm on Deek's shoulder, and ST'd - shadow traveled - them both to the medical bay, where he laid him on a gurney. Instantly, Deek was mobbed by a team of medics, and Percy had to shadow travel back to the wreckage.

He resumed his search, now invigorated by fact that if Deek had survived, then others might have too.

The search went on for another few minutes, the 15 Operators searching desperately through what had once been a building.

"Get down!" one of the other Operators shouted, and without a second thought, Percy and everyone else dove to the ground.

An explosion went off, right there in the wreckage they were all sifting through. It must have been a secondary explosive. One that hadn't gone off during the initial explosion that had brought the house down.

Percy felt the blast hit him, and shrapnel tore through his body. His torso was protected by the combat vest, but he felt small pieces of metal and stone impact the right side of his face and his right leg. He screamed in pain, and tasted blood.

The moment he had regained his bearings, Percy checked on the Infantry soldiers surrounding the fallen building. They had been unaffected by the blast, and kept fighting on. Having confirmed that their protection was still in good shape, he started checking on the rest of the Operators. They were mostly ok, though two of them had to be ST'd back to the medical bay, because they'd been closer to the blast, and the shrapnel had ripped right through their combat armor.

As soon as they were dealt with, the 13 remaining Operators went back to searching.

10 minutes later, the remaining 11 members of Delta team had been found. Each and every one of them was dead. There was nothing anyone could have done for them. Distraught beyond words, the 13-Operator search party ST'd the bodies back to base. Their bodies were laid to rest in the refrigerated morgue, where they would remain until a proper burriel could be held.

Once the rest of the guys were safely deposited there, Percy made his way to the medical bay, where he could check up on Deek, and see if he'd make it or not.

As soon as he arrived, he knew something was wrong. If Deek were still alive, there would be a team of medics huddled around his bed, trying desperately to save him. He stopped a passing doctor.

"Hey, what happened to Deek; the guy I brought in earlier? Where is he?"

The doc, who had been there when Percy had arrived earlier, looked at him sadly.

"He was DOA. I'm sorry."

Percy stared at him.

DOA, meant Dead On Arrival. It meant that he had already been dead when Percy had brought him to the med bay.

"No no, he was alive. I felt his pulse. I was sure of it!"

The doc shook his head, still looking mournful.

"You can't have. We did everything we could, but there was nothing anyone could have done for him. He died in the initial blast."

Percy felt his blood go even colder. He had been so sure he'd felt that pulse.

"Listen, Jackson, why don't you come in and sit down? Someone should really take a look at those slices on your face."

But he wasn't listening.

Suddenly feeling a great mass of emotion welling up inside him, he turned away from the doctor and strode out of the room, moving fast. He navigated the base until he found a bathroom. He threw the door open, stepped into a stall, and vomited violently into the toilet.

He threw up for almost 2 full minutes before finally collapsing onto the hard stone floor, back against the stall wall, and just sat there a while, tears running unashamedly down his face. They hadn't saved a single one of them. 12 Operators just like him were dead, and there was nothing anyone could do about it.

It could have been him. If he, Pricela, and Moril hadn't been told to get some rest for a week or two, it might have been. He wouldn't have fared any better than them, he knew that. He would have walked right into that building, ready for another night of kicking down doors and shooting bad guys, and then the whole fucking building would have fallen on him.

After some period of time he couldn't discern, Percy managed to pull himself together enough to stand up, flush the toiled, wash his hands and face in the sink, and leave the bathroom. As he came out, another Operator saw him and shifted gears to come over to him.

"Hey, Jackson, how you doing?"

This wasn't one of the Operators he'd been digging through the rubble with. This was some guy from one of the other teams that had been Operational, and been recalled after the catastrophe with Delta team. Percy couldn't even remember his name at the moment.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he said gruffly, trying to dissuade this guy from the notion that he was available for a fucking chit chat.

"You sure? I heard you went digging through the rubble for the guys in Delta team?"

"I said I'm fine," Percy replied with a tone of finality, and walked away from the guy.

—-

The funerals were held a few days later. For that one day, all Operations on the entire planet were halted. Not a single member of CA were given any reason to be anywhere but at the funerals.

There were 16 caskets. The 12 Spec Ops Operators who had died in the building, plus 4 Infantry guys who'd died in the battle to secure the bombing sight.

Percy was dressed in an official uniform that had been given to him by someone. He didn't really know who. He just knew that he had it now. His features were schooled in a neutral expression, but he knew there were signs of his true emotions, visible under the facade. His jaw was clenched just a little too tight. And his knuckles were white because of the pressure he was putting them under.

Flags were draped over the coffins. The Chaos' Army flag was incredibly simple, though somewhat beautiful. A sheer black canvas, with a silver spiral in the center, surrounding white stars. There hadn't been a need for 16 of them at the same time, in tens of thousands of years.

Looking around the gathered crowd, Percy saw one group sequestered off to the side, crying the hardest of anyone there. Percy knew without being told, that they were the spouses of the dead Operators and Infatry soldiers. There were even a few kids, who looked more lost and confused than anything else. They probably hadn't quite processed yet, that their mothers or fathers wouldn't be coming home again.

He'd never met any of the spouses, but he'd known all about them. Percy, Pricela, and Moril had worked with Delta team plenty of times, and had gotten to know each of the Operators pretty well. They'd been great people, who had astounded Percy with how normal they were. Each of them was capable of killing gods if they so chose, and sometimes were sent to do just that, but then they'd go home and be moms and dads. It was an exercise in duality, and Percy knew he would probably never understand exactly wha it must be like, to have two different modes like that. The savage, ruthless Operator who had been perfected into a killing machine, and the fun parent who would go home and hug their kids and watch cartoons with them. How the hell did that work?

Chaos showed up for the funeral. No one bowed to her this time. It didn't feel right to bow at a funeral. She seemed to prefer it that way too. She walked down the isle, until she was standing in front of the coffins. Then, she raised a hand in the air, and the coffins started to disintegrate in silver mist. And that was it. That was what they got for giving their lives.

Percy knew that wasn't exactly fair. The widows, widowers, and children of the fallen Operators and soldiers would be taken care of forever. That was a cast-iron guarantee. And the fallen themselves would be honored with a plaque in a museum in Chaos' Realm.

But he couldn't think about all that now. All he could think about, was the fact that his friends had dedicated themselves to a cause, and died in its service. Their broken, mangled bodies had been put in a box. A piece of cloth had been draped over the box. The box, and their bodies inside, were atomised. What a wortless gesture. They deserved so much better.

Percy understood that there wasn't a great deal he could do to make that happen. Honoring people, wasn't really his strong suit. But avenging them? Yes, he could do that.

After the funeral, Percy went straight to The General's office. The General, was General Gilln, whom Percy had met once, right before he'd been framed by Order's forces, and hunted by Chaos' Army. Somehow, despite his obliviousness at the true nature of the war on Lomik, he was still in charge. Ultimately, all Operations taking place on the entire planet, were his to greenlight, or veto. It was profoundly stupid in Percy's eyes, but there was nothing to be done about it.

To his surprise, there was already someone in The General's office. 6 someones, as it happened.

The Dead Men were on Lomik.

A/N: Well, that's that. This one took a little longer than I would have thought, but there you have it. I truly can't predict when the next one will be coming your way. On the one hand, I've already pre-planned the entire chapter, but on the other, I'm balancing Uni admissions, swim team meetings, and work, so I'm not sure how much time I'll have to actually write over the next few weeks. That being said, I'm really excited about where this story's going, so I doubt I'll have much trouble making the time to sit down and get some words on a page. Maybe I'll stop taking melatonin and just stay up xD

Amyway, hope you enjoyed. See ya'll in the next one. Stay safe.