Shadow Heart (52 page)

She pushed forward into enemy ranks and inflicted heavy losses. She did not have the presence of mind to count the exact number, but she knew she had surpassed her three long ago. Briefly she even entertained that victory might be possible. Specter had the numbers, but she had the more seasoned warriors.

A flash of white and a burst of pain severed the thread of that hope. Her hand shot up to her face where the pain burned hottest, purely by reflex, and if not for the quick cover of the man next to her the attacker’s next blow would have killed her. He parried the attack and she struck out with one of her own, plunging
Novus Vita
through the man’s chest. She inspected her hand, now covered in blood, and wondered how bad he had cut her. Would it leave a scar?

She laughed at herself, to be worried about her appearance when she likely only had minutes left to live.

The ground beside her exploded, killing the man who had just saved her life and throwing her off her feet. Her shoulder hit the ground hard and it was a few seconds before she could breathe again. She tilted her head back up to see more explosions. Her vanguard had been torn to pieces. She had taken a risk authorizing photons. Blaine probably would never have used them unless she had done so first.

She rose to her feet, slowly, and attempted to rally her troops. But at just that moment more photons struck the sides of the line that her vanguard had led, killing an untold number of her men. Specters fell in the fire as well, but that was, apparently, an acceptable loss.

So this is it
, she thought.
Which blade will push me through the doors of death?.

But then she caught a rush of movement to her left, and the other Silent Thunder vanguard struck at the concentration of Specters that had halted her advance. The enemy was not ready for them, and fell in the charge. Guns were out now, firing into enemy forces to thin their numbers before falling upon them with whirling blades.

The loss of the concentrated force made a temporary hole in the battlefield, enough that the survivors might escape back into the streets of Corridor Prime.
The objective is not to win
, she reminded herself.
It is to hold on as long as possible
. So long as Blaine remained here, fighting them, he could not take the city capitol.

“Fall back!” she yelled over the continuing thunder of battle. “Take refuge among the buildings!”

Precious few bodies responded to her order, not because they refused or did not hear, but because they lay dead somewhere in that battlefield. She tried not to count them as they fled from the Spectorium’s shattered rear line, but the difference was impossible not to notice.
Less than half
, she thought.
Half my champions are dead.

Good men, every one. And she would join them soon.

Haphazard explosions tore the earth around them as the enemy fired photons at their backs, but luckily none found their mark. A few operatives stopped to fire over their shoulders, but she urged them on. The Spectorium would take this opportunity to regroup, as they had taken heavy losses. More than twice the number of Silent Thunder dead if not more, Grace guessed. But they still had superior numbers, and Blaine would want retribution even more now. She had made a mockery of his battle formation with only a third of his number, and he would not stop until he had crushed them all.

She passed the first building and turned left into the first alley she came to. Here they would regroup and prepare for their final stand.

-X-

Derek stepped onto a battlefield still smoking with the remains of exploded photons, gunfire, and the burned flesh of Gladius victims. The ground was littered with bodies, clothed in both black and navy, countless discarded Spectral Gladii nearby. Most still hummed their soft diamond armor song, and that added another layer of melancholy to the aftermath.

But it was not over, not yet.

“We have eyes on the survivors?” Derek asked.

“Yes, sir,” Gentry nodded. “They have fallen back to an alley just east of here. The buildings will provide them ample cover during our approach.”

They know they cannot win
. This was not about survival, but delay. They wanted to keep the Spectorium entrenched here as long as possible to give the army time to bring down the Solithium wall. If this had been a normal battle he would have called their bluff and turned to sack the city capitol, a much more strategic prize. But he couldn’t bring himself to even consider it. This was too personal.

“What is our fighting strength?”

“We have about eighty able-bodied,” Gentry replied. “What are your orders, sir?”

Derek had to hide his shock.
80
? He had started the battle with a hundred and fifty men! “We need to finish this, and quickly. Radio the Halos under Van Dorn's command and reroute one here. I want air power in case they try to retreat deeper into the city. Make sure our men at air defense do not shoot it down.”

Gentry turned aside to speak into his comm, then shifted back, “Done, sir. ETA ten minutes.”

“Good,” he said. “Reform the men into squadrons under the remaining Specter Captains. Then prepare for a charge on the alley.”

“They will need a commander on the ground, sir. Specter General Marcus is nowhere to be found.”

Dead? That would be the end of a significant pain in my side
. He felt guilty for thinking it, but it was true. “I believe I have spent enough time on the sidelines, Gentry. Time for the both of us to do our part.”

T
HE SKY IN FRONT
of Davian's Halo exploded into an orange fireball, and he held onto the hull as the pilot banked right to avoid its destruction. The vessel rocked as it was hit by the shockwave, then leveled out as they continued on toward Corridor Prime.

“What's our ETA, pilot?” he yelled over another explosion. This one was behind them now since they flew over their own troops, but the peaceful flight would not last long. Van Dorn had managed to take control of the city's air defenses, and they would do their best to shoot them down as soon as they crossed back into the main sectors.

“Ten minutes!” the pilot yelled back.

“Our friends still with us?”

“Yes, sir! One got a little singed back there but made it out.”

Good,
Davian thought.
I'm going to need every man I can get
.

Bruce had relayed news of Derek Blaine's maneuver just a few minutes ago, and it took all Davian's self-control to comply with Grace's orders. The whole of the Spectorium was on the ground in front of the city capitol, with only fifty Silent Thunder operatives there to counter. They would do heavy damage to Blaine's forces, but the chances of them prevailing were slim. Davian would probably lose a lot of friends today, including Grace and Crenshaw. It might mean the end of Silent Thunder.

But it was just as much about the city now, he understood that. The civilians they had carried with them across the Wilderness had taken up residence in Prime, and their lives would be forfeit if Van Dorn and his army made it into the city. Their best chance was for Davian to destroy that wall and get the army back to the downtown district before the Spectorium could take the Stone Hall.

But that will leave the city open to attack from Van Dorn's army
, he reminded himself. He gritted his teeth in frustration. There was no clean way out of this. True to form, Blaine had anticipated their ignorance of the city's defenses and vulnerabilities and potentially dealt them a fatal blow. Months of planning had gone into Alexandria. They had been in Corridor Prime for two days, and relied mainly on their new System allies for intelligence. Had Bruce betrayed them?

If I survive this I'll see him strung up, even if only for stupidity.

An explosion nearby rocked the Halo, and the pilot yelled, “Entering Prime's perimeter! Two minutes to the eastern pylon!”

Davian considered standing, but another explosion forced the pilot to maneuver out of the way, and he thought better of it. No need to crack his skull before a battle. “Listen up, men!” he shouted to the other operatives in the Halo. “We only need to destroy one pylon to take down the wall. Blaine will have only left a few men behind to defend it, but they will be ready for us. When we land, the first six men out of this Halo will grab a block of C4. If one of those men falls in the coming battle, the man behind him will take the explosive. We will need at least 4 to destroy the pylon.” The Halo shook violently at a near miss from the anti-aircraft guns. It sounded to Davian as though it was right on the other side of the hull.
Too close
.

Had they been in anything but a Halo, they would already have been blown out of the sky.

The Halo righted once again, and Davian went on, “I don't have to tell you how important this mission is...that the lives of all our comrades, your families, and more rest on what will happen in the next few minutes. If we must surrender our lives today, we do so knowing that it is not in vain. Do not hesitate, and give the enemy no quarter, for you will receive none.”

At that moment a loud burst sounded from behind them and the Halo lurched, propelled forward by the shockwave. This time the turbulence did not abate.

“Pilot!” Davian yelled. “Status report!”

“We lost one, sir!” came the reply. “And the shrapnel damaged the posterior engines. I have to put us down.”

Lost one
, Davian grimaced.
There were six to ten men on that Halo
.

The nose of the vessel dipped as the pilot angled toward the ground, and Davian braced for impact.

- X -

Just over twenty Silent Thunder operatives joined Grace in the alley. Her eyes shifted quickly from face to face, searching for the one she most longed to see. Crenshaw had taken command of the second vanguard after the split, and with each face she studied it became less and less likely he had survived.

“Commander?” an operative, young and bloody, stepped forward to get her attention.

She gave it to him, knowing it was the least she could do after the sacrifice he was about to make—had perhaps already made, by the look of him.

“I was with the general’s column,” the operative said.

Her heart hit the ground. The operative would not have approached her in that tone if all was well. Perhaps he had seen the general fall and knew how he had died.

She cleared her throat and attempted to mask her emotions, “What happened?”

“It was during the final charge, right before the withdraw order,” the operative said. “Photon exploded right beside us.” He motioned to his wounds. “I got the worst of it, luckily, but I had carry the general back—”

“Carry him back?” Grace demanded. “You mean he’s alive?”

“Yes, Commander. He sent me to find you. We had to set him down over here. Please, follow me.”

Grace let out a long breath, and had she been in a less focused state of mind she might have broken down in tears of relief. She followed the operative away from the rest of the survivors to a spot closer to the other end of the alley, where she saw a figure huddled on the ground with his back against the building. Unable to contain herself any longer, she sprinted ahead of the operative and knelt by Crenshaw’s side.

He stirred at her touch, and to her relief, smiled. She turned back to the operative, “Where was he hit?”

“You can talk to
me
, Grace,” Crenshaw said. “I’m not dead...not yet. Help me up.”

“I’m not sure that’s such a great—”

“Dying flat on my back is not quite the exit I had in mind,” Crenshaw interrupted. “I was several feet further from the blast than Private Ford here.”

She grinned, “You’re not quite as young as you used to be.”

“Well keeping me down here isn’t going to make me any younger,” he held out his hand to her. She hesitated, until she realized how foolish it was to argue with someone just as stubborn as her. Private Ford rushed over to take Crenshaw’s other hand, and together they pulled him back to his feet.

The general stumbled and clutched his side, gasping for breath. Grace tried to help keep him steady, but he waved her off, “It’s alright. I can do this.”

“Where are you hurt?” It was too dark for her to see anything clearly, but she had not felt any blood when helping him up.

“Sprained ankle, bruised ribs...couple cracked, maybe,” he chuckled and grabbed his side again. “Knocked the wind out of me, but I can push through long enough for one more fight. I did lose my Gladius out there...”

“Oh, right,” Ford said, fumbling at his side. “This was lying right by you, so I picked it up before we fled.”

Crenshaw took the Gladius from him, “Not mine, but it will have to do. I see you didn’t escape unscathed yourself.” He touched the slash on her cheek and she recoiled as pain flared.

“Probably looks worse than it is,” she said. “I was lucky. Had I not been hit, I would have been right in the middle of those first photons.”

Crenshaw nodded. No doubt he had seen how many men died in those few seconds as he led the second vanguard to save those he could. “How many survivors?”

“Just over twenty,” Grace replied.