Old Memories, New Faces
Soft sunlight gracefully drifted through the glass panels overhead. Birds sang and chirped from their nests resting in the support beams of the environmental sphere. The ground was a beautiful garden, hundreds of different kinds of flowers blanketing the ground in a maze of every color known. Well-kept pebble pathways cut through the gardens, leading to the old Oak tree in the middle of the biosphere.
Underneath the Oaktree, Hera knelt in front of Carla’s grave, silent. Spider stood a few paces behind her, softly whispering to the garden keepers. The keepers were stuntlings, small children in bright purple robes with gold trim, their golden metal limbs gently clicking and whirring. Each of their metal appendages held some sort of fantastic gardening tool, their long hair braided with silver and gold wreaths or flowers. They showed no sign of abuse, their soft faces joyful and full of life.
Once finished talking to the keepers, Spider watched as they scuttled away, happily whispering amongst themselves and laughing. Spider studied them, memories of the children he had met on Zeta Earth coming back to him. He was glad to see the stuntlings of Mars now had a future. The wanderer turned and gazed at Hera.
She had shaved her afro into a mohawk, an eye patch over her left eye. A dark leather trench coat concealed her gun belt, steel-toed boots, and rubber padded knee jeans. Steel knuckled, fingerless gloves bracing her hands and wrists. A smg was slung over her back as Spider knelt beside her.
Hera placed a rose on Carla’s grave.
“I am sorry, truly,” Spider said softly.
Hera shrugged.
“I hated that bitch.”
A tear ran down her face.
“You two were like sisters, I seem to recall.”
Hera chortled, wiping the tear away.
“How did she die?”
“She went with Nameless and Aj into the main bunker system and was killed by Florence.”
“Then what?”
“Nameless drank the vial, became a light bearer, and killed Florence along with her master, Mr. Eyes. That is how the war for Mars ended.”
Hera looked at Spider.
“What’s a light-bearer?”
“A light-bearer is a being whose DNA has been rewritten, allowing them to fully harness their life force and channel it into energy that can be used for combat, politics, or the arts.”
“And that’s what you are?”
“Yes, in a way.”
Hera looked back at the gravestone, gently caressing it with her hand. She then stood, swinging the smg to her side.
“Ready when you are,” She grunted.
“Her death has been avenged, Hera,” Spider sighed.
She shook her head.
“Not for me.”
“The time for bloodshed fast approaches, but you must not allow hate to be your guiding force.”
Hera looked at him.
“That’s all I got left. C’mon, we gotta go meet these assholes.”
Hera led the way down the pebble path, Spider in toe. He was dressed in a simple grey robe with tactical sneakers that were well made and built for austere environments. A headband bearing his oath was wound tightly around his head, his hair tied in a knot underneath the band, touching his neck. The Nodachi was clasped to a humble belt at his side; no other gear was on him.
As they walked, his mind analyzed Hera. He knew rescuing her from the hospital was the right decision, but was she ready for this? She had spent her entire life in conflict, struggling for freedom. She had never gotten an opportunity to honestly do anything of her own will, much like himself.
As they neared the exit, memories flooded back to him, seeing the Martian dunes. It was an odd feeling, having returned home. He had let go of any hope of being his own man, fully committing himself to his calling, to prevent as many lives as possible from being shattered as his had. His only hope was that Hera would find herself, lest be consumed by anger and hate. Spider made an internal promise to her at that moment that he would help guide her as best he could.
They exited the glass biodome, the Martian dust and winds smacking them in the face. Both coughed, their lunges retracting, now used to fresh air. A hovercraft sat in front, with several Wolves in black combat armor standing at the ready. Spider recognized one of them; the wolf sergeant who had gone into the green-lit bunker with Nameless.
“Welcome back to Mars, my lord!” The Sergeant saluted.
“Cut that shit; we ain’t Lords asshole,” Hera barked.
The Sergeant smiled, extending his hand. Hera grinned and shook it.
“And here I thought you all had gotten soft,” The wolf chuckled.
“Like hell, we’ve been off doing the Gods’ work while yall been sitting with your thumbs up to your asses here,” Hera laughed.
“Is the council assembled?” Spider asked.
“They are. Who is this man, commander Hera?”
Hera’s face twisted with a sneer.
“That’s the fucking Forge Master of the Vagabonds, asshole.”
The Sergeant's face paled, his eyes widening.
“I’m so sorry, sir,” He stammered.
“It’s all right, really,” Spider smiled.
“You will be pleased to know they named you Forge Master of Mars in your absence,” The wolf sergeant said nervously.
“A great honor; I look forward to utilizing my new forge then. But, we must speak to the council about the matter at hand. I’m afraid it was very urgent.”
The Sergeant nodded, beckoning to the open door of the vehicle. The two clamored inside, the wolf sergeant sitting in front of them. The door closed, and the car lifted into the air, sending dust flying beneath them. The wolf soldiers mounted hoverbikes, escorting the vehicle on the flanks in the air. Spider looked out the window, watching the biodome shrink, the massive mountain-like buildings of the city looming.
“There’s been a lot of talk about the Vagabonds,” The Sergeant said.
“As in?” Hera asked.
“The whole solar system knows about you guys; you’re legends here on Mars. The church talks about granting godhood to Nameless, Yuri Anatolievich, and Chang Mai. Sainthood for everyone else.”
“Spider is one too now,” Hera's head nodded.
The Sergeant’s eyes again widened as he gazed at Spider. Spider gently raised his palm, bowing his head.
“I am happy simply being remembered as a captain.”
“But the power of the gods flows through your veins!”
“They most certainly do not, sergeant,” Spider chuckled. “Simple tricks; I just make molecules act in a certain way.”
The Sergeant shook his head, a broad smile on his face.
“The fuck is a molecule?” Hera spat.
“The very building block of everything. Our bodies, clothes, this craft, the planets, and stars are all formed of molecules.”
Hera cocked her head, arching an eyebrow.
“Yep. You’re professor Spider now.”
“I am not a professor.”
“Are too!”
Spider chuckled, looking out the window, watching the mammoth buildings race by. The craft began to slow as they approached their destination.
“How does the rest of humanity feel about Mars’s new status?” Spider asked.
The wolf shook his head.
“It’s tense right now. I don’t think Earth knew what they were unleashing when they helped us.”
“Fuck 'em,” Hera snarled.
The Sergeant nodded grimly.
The craft shuttered as it landed. The door opened, and the three piled out. Spider stretched, looking up at the council building. It was a massive tower, several cities blocks wide and long. As the three walked down the illuminated pathway towards the main gate, the guards saluted, the steel fence gate parting, allowing them through.
Inside the tower lobby, classical music flowed from speakers overhead. Beautiful red carpet spanned the floor, with water fountains and plants spanning the sides of the hall. Spider studied the portraits of the Gods and noticed himself. He walked over beside the front desk and checked himself in the painting. It was a bald ten-year-old boy, standing proudly with his titanium arms crossed, on top of the Magnolia. Fire blazed behind it as the boy gazed triumphantly into a rising sun.
Yearning filled him. While he had his calling, the love of machines had never escaped him. If anything, it now burned even more brightly than ever before. He longed to jump back inside his mighty chariot of war, the most significant tank Mars had ever made, the Magnolia.
Hera stood beside him, also studying the painting.
“They got your nose wrong.”
Both chuckled.
“Where is yours?” Spider smiled.
Hera shook her head.
“C’mon, it has to be better than mine.”
She sighed, pointing to the far side of the room. Spider walked away, Hera still standing in place. He came back and pulled her by her arm towards her painting.
“Hey!” She barked.
Spider didn’t answer, guiding her to her painting. The two stopped in front of it. A twenty-year-old, beautiful black woman with a bald head with koi fish tattoos on each side of her head stood fiercely. A grenade in each hand, her face was twisted in a manic, blood-filled rage, a wide grin on her face. Two vectors were charging her in the painting, dead wolf soldiers on the floor.
Spider sighed, studying Hera’s face. Her eye was filling with tears, her chin trembling.
He turned her around and hugged her as she silently cried.
“Why’d they put my boys in there?” She sobbed.
“Shush. It’s okay,” Spider soothed.
“Why are they up there like that? They shouldn’t be remembered like that!”
Spider gently rubbed her back, embracing her tighter as she sobbed into his collar. The wolf sergeant was standing to the side, his eyes darting, lips pierced as he fidgeted. Spider mouthed one second to the man, who nodded, backing away.
Spider released her from his embrace, holding both her shoulders.
This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it
“It will be all right; they are remembered as heroes. Are you okay?”
Hera silently nodded.
“Okay, come on, we have a meeting to attend.”
Hera walked away, fists forming, pointing at the woman sitting behind the desk.
“Throw that piece of shit in the trash right now!” Hera barked, pointing at her painting.
The woman jumped, startled.
“Hera, let’s go,” Spider called.
“That better not still be up there when I get back!” Hera shouted, stomping away.
The terrified woman scurried to Hera’s painting and tried taking it down as the three entered the elevator. The elevator doors slid shut as Hera ground her teeth. The Sergeant stood in the corner, looking at the ground like a scared child.
“Come now, Sergeant, she doesn’t bite. You may stand beside us,” Spider smiled.
“I will rip your throat out with my bare fucking teeth if you come near me.”
The man gulped. Spider tutted.
“Now, is that any way to speak to your subordinate?”
“He ain’t one of my boys,” Hera growled.
“Um, actually, ma’am, commander Nameless put our clan under your command,” The Sergeant squeaked.
Hera groaned.
Spider smiled, mirth filling him.
“Company inspection after all of this,” Hera growled.
“Yes, ma’am,” The Sergeant rapidly nodded.
They were silent as the elevator continued upward, climbing many levels. There were no windows in the elevator, merely a holographic information board that showed advertisements and news. Spider felt a specific type of satisfaction watching the new Martian news channel. Mars was still a wasteland, and it would take many, many years to fully terraform it and restore the people’s quality of life to that of the other planets, but this was a good start.
The elevator shuttered as it reached the top floor, the doors sliding open with a ding. The three walked out, entering a massive chamber. The far wall was a long series of panel windows that stood from floor to ceiling, the city sprawling out far beneath in an orange hue; the steely dark grey structures of the buildings seemed to glow. Ships came and went in the sky.
Green shrubbery grew on the left and right walls, filling the chamber with the earthy musk of plants and fresh air. In the center of the room was an oval table. Lights hung from the ceiling, brightly illuminating the hall.
At the head of the table sat guild master Ardo, his hands folded together, his long white beard braided with gold. He wore a bright, blue suite. His daughter Anna stood by his side, clad in grey tactical armor. Spider’s Father, Oasis Forge Master Johnathan, sat to Ardo's left side, several hulking spiders, each six feet tall with battle arms at his side.
On the other side sat Auntie Mai, clad in a blood-red dress, her grey hair neatly bound in a bun with two ceramic rods. In night camouflage battle kits with hoods, several Listeners stood by her side. The rest of the table seated many people that Spider did not recognize. Twelve notable lords sat at the table, each with their own unique bodyguard stationed behind or nearbye.
The people at the table all rose as Hera and Spider approached them, the wolf sergeant hastily walking over to the side of the room.
“Greetings, General Hera, hero of the bunker battles,” Ardo bowed.
Hera’s face stiffened, but she held her tongue, surprising Spider.
“Who is this fine gentleman you have brought, my lady?” Auntie Mai asked.
Hera sighed, looking at Spider.
“Everyone, this is Forge Master Spider. I’m not good with words, so I’ll let him explain all of this, but um, yeah, shit is fucked right now.”
Hera retreated, leaving Spider alone facing the council. He held his hands behind his back, straightening his posture. Everyone sat down, low chattering filling the air.
“What has happened to you, my son?” Forge Master Johnathan asked, his eyes wide.
Spider cleared his throat.
“This war has required me to upgrade my physical form, Father. This body is best suited for battle.”
Forge Master Johnathan's eyes widened, his face paling. Ardo grimly held his folded hands to his mouth, leaning forward.
“What has happened, high councilman and Forge Master Spider?”
“Lords and Ladies of Mars, we have come in the galaxy's darkest hour,” Spider said. “In Mars’s best interest, the Vagabonds left to secure training and more power for our people in the Kingdom of Zion. This Kingdom is far greater than anything humanity has built here in our solar system. A thousand peoples of a million worlds built that citadel with blood, sweat, and tears. I am sorry to say, it has now fallen.”
Ardo nodded, as the people quietly looked at each other, nodding with intent.
“There has been a massive uptick of white-haired people flooding into the wastes. They seem to just appear out of nowhere. Our patrols have been picking up more and more people like Professor Zion,” Auntie Mai said.
“Fear not; they have been treated well. They seem to have only come to Mars, and we have taken them in; Mars does not forget friends,” An olive-skinned woman said.
Spider bowed.
“I am thankful for your generosity, Lady?”
“Ramirez, I am now the ruler of Oasis,” The woman nodded.
Spider studied her. Olive skin, dark black hair, Hispanic descent, her form elegant, poised, and beautiful, clad in a gold dress. The fishing clan guards of Oasis by her side.
“There wouldn’t happen to be a family relation to Carlotta Ramirez, the fallen Vagabond, my lady?”
The woman’s gentle smile faded, her beautiful eyes drifting.
“She was my sister. Since I am the only surviving member, I have been doing my best to distribute the wealth generously donated by Councilmen Nameless to my people of Oasis. I am here to honor her memory and safeguard my people’s future.”
Spider smiled.
“I am sure he will be more than happy to see your success. He cherished your sister’s service and heroism, as did we all.”
The woman gently smiled.
“Councilman Spider, if I may be so bold, why have only you and lady Hera returned?” A man in a grey suit asked.
Spider nodded grimly.
“As we speak, the Vagabonds are fighting on the front lines. There have been many casualties, but they are all still alive, to my knowledge. Hera and I have returned to speak with you all.”
“Why does Mars’s greatest heroes fight for some other people? This is not their fight, nor ours,” A woman spat.
Before Spider could answer, Hera walked over.
“I saw the white citadel burn. I saw the women and children die in the street. Saw the white hairs die, their soldiers torn apart. War will come. And it will be far worse than what we have ever had. If we do not stop this enemy, the Dark Axium, they will take over every world until they reach ours. And we will lose,” Hera snarled.
“This war is everyone’s war, ladies and gentlemen. If we stand idly by, we may be safe for a few years. But they will come, and when they do, this solar system, let alone Mars, is not ready for that,” Spider said grimly.
There was a profound silence.
Ardo spread his hands on the table, palms up, closing his eyes and bowing his head. Everyone else at the table did so as well.
"My palms are empty, my words true, my heart pure. Bless this exchange and bargain, mistress Nima," Ardo prayed.
Everyone else echoed the solemn prayer.
If only they knew that somewhere out there, mistress Nima was simply a light bearer fighting for her life in the Zion war. Spider wanted to tell them to disband their obedience to a false ideology. However, religion also had its uses.
Ardo raised his head, studying Spider.
“In our war against the regime, this, Kingdom of Zion?” Ardo asked.
Spider nodded.
“Institution, Kingdom, citadel, they go by many names, my lord,” Spider smiled.
Ardo warmly smiled, his white beard lifting.
“Yes, this Zion, they aided us in our struggle for freedom. Dare I say, not one of us would be sitting here at this table today where it is not for their aide and monetary support.”
“Just to be clear, Zion isn’t with Earth?” A man asked.
Spider snickered, covering his mouth, his face glowing red. He exhaled harshly, recollecting his composure.
“Forgive my outburst; no, they bear no allegiance or affinity to our Earth.”
“Our Earth?” The man asked with an arched eyebrow.
“Yes. Our Earth, or any other, does not influence the decisions of Zion, I assure you.”
“There are other Earths?!” The man gasped.
Hera hastily came back over.
“What Professor fuckwit over here is trying to say is no. Earth has no bearing on Zion at all, they are just a group of really, really stuck-up assholes who fucked around, and now they’re finding out.”
“What is it you require, children?” Ardo asked plainly.
Spider took a deep breath.
“We are asking Mars to join the war against the Dark Axium now before they come here. We must all stand together and march off-world to beat these monsters.”
“You are asking us to leave Mars vulnerable while we fight someone else's war?” High Priest Hyforian chortled.
“That is the simplest version, my lord, but yes.”
“And why didn’t you ask this rather abrupt and fairly unreasonable boon to the solar parliament?” Ardo asked coldly.
“We did not bother asking the solar parliament because we are Martians,” Spider said in a cold tone. “Mars withstood every trial that has ended other worlds. We will be the bulwark that stands against the tide of blood coming. We are the sons and daughters of the orange sands; we are the warriors who stemmed the tide of countless invaders. It is only Martians who can save Zion now. I came here to bring forth our people, to bear upon the greatest evil this world may ever see.”
The room was silent.
Ardo sighed.
“We shall consider your request. At any rate, it is good to see you both back home and in good health. I wish this reunion had happened under better conditions. We shall measure this agenda and summon you when we have an answer.”
Hera scoffed.
“They could be on their way right now! You have no idea how much damage these guys can do!”
“Lady Hera,” Auntie Mai chimed. “Rest assured, Mars is ready for such a thing. And regardless of our answer, we all shall support you to our fullest capability within our organizations.”
As the council adjourned, something dark entered Spider’s mind as they walked back to the elevator. The likelihood that the Dark Axium would send agents among the refugees to spy on Mars or sabotage the potential war effort was highly likely. They would need an immovable object, someone used to looking over their back, willing to enact violence at a moment’s notice to crush this.
“Hera?”
“What, Professor Fuckwit?”
Spider smiled as they entered the elevator, the Wolf Sergeant following.
“I think the perfect mission has come up for yourself and the Wolves until we reach Zion.”
Hera arched an eyebrow, studying him with her one good eye.
“Many people are coming in from Zion, yes?”
“So?”
“There could be a lot of Dark Axium agents among their ranks.”
There was a pause as Hera’s forehead creased, her eye-widening.
She looked ahead.
“I’ll crush them,” She grunted.
“Very good. Now Sergeant, where might be my new forge?”
“In the basement, sir, you can take this elevator down if you like.”
The elevator stopped, the doors opening, revealing the lobby.
“Of you go; you have a planet to terrorize until we leave,” Spider chuckled.
Hera bit her lip, looking at him.
“I’m gonna be the only vagabond out there.”
Spider shook his head.
“I am right here, and they are all right there, in your heart. Look, I will go with you to your company inspection, then I must go see to my forge.”
Hera’s face went red, her eye darting.
“You ain’t gotta do that.”
“I insist.”
The three left the lobby; Spider peered over to see that Hera’s painting had been crowbarred down. Hera smirked as they exited the glass doors, the gritty and thin Martian air hitting them again. To think they had spent most of their lives in such conditions. They again got into a hovercraft of such luxury, their pasts selves would have marveled for hours, heading for the spaceport.
After a few minutes of flight, they descended, through the open overhead door of a hangar. The massive hangar was thousands of feet long, and several hundred wide. This time arriving at a far different welcome than the last location. As the door swung open, they were greeted by thousands of men and women standing in formation on the left and right. They were clad in pitch-black armor, their faces covered by an orange battle helmet that resided under hoods. Their bodies were adorned with knives, a long sword by their side, and a rifle on each back, barring those with special-purpose tasking.
“Little bit more than a clan here, eh?” Hera darkly whispered.
“We have opened recruitment to all who can make it,” The Sergeant grinned.
“I can fucking see that. Each of them was held to standard?”
“Down to the very last one, my lady.”
Hera looked at Spider.
“Does it seem odd that Mars bounced back so quickly after only two months?”
Spider leaned in.
“Two months Zion time is several years here, Hera.”
Hera pursed his lips, nodding.
She looked at the Sergeant.
“So, you’re one of the only original wolves left?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Sweet, you’re my right hand now. Don’t fuck it up, Captain.”
Hera put her hands behind her back and started walking down the center of the formations.
The former Sergeant gulped and looked at Spider.
“She is very affectionate and sweet once you get to know her, Captain. You have big boots to fill; best to just go for it,” Spider said warmly.
The Wolf Company had a long and storied history of being Mars's most incredible hand-to-hand combat and nighttime raid asset. The now Wolf Captain hastily nodded and followed Hera. Spider sighed; he remembered the Wolf Captain Zyfor, Hera’s cousin, who had died in that last stand during the bunker battle.
Hera silently walked down the rows of warriors, inspecting them. An idea sprang into Spider’s mind as he grinned.
“Three cheers!” Spider boomed. “Three cheers for the returning Wolf General of Mars!”
Hera shot him a murderous look over her shoulder as the formations erupted into cheering. She tried to silence them, but the roar of the soldiers only got louder, bouncing off the walls of the hangar bay.
With weapons and fists in the air, the Wolves cheered for her. Several soldiers bounded forward, rolling fuel barrels to her. Once near her, they raised an impromptu podium. They then ran back into formation as the Captain handed her a bullhorn.
Spider grinned. He still enjoyed sowing chaos and having a little mischief, albeit more evolved now. He walked away towards the hovercraft, Hera’s curse interlaced and impromptu speech echoing off the walls.
He got back onto the hovercar and watched with a smile as Hera continued to rant and yell at her men. Try as she might hide it, she was a born leader. Satisfied, he reclined into his seat, the door closing.
“Where to, sir?” The pilot asked.
“Take me to my forge,” Spider said with shut eyelids.
The hovercraft shuttered, rising into the air, then heading back towards the council tower. Spider watched the holographic advertisements dancing across the city, the police sirens, and the thrum and drum of tightly packed life with half-open eyes.
Slowly, the craft circled the massive tower, a hangar door opening in the ground behind it. The ship steadied itself and began to land. Spider watched as the tower, then the floor, went past his window, descending into a massive, brightly lit garage. The craft halted on the landing pad. A stuntling opened the door.
Spider got out and recognized the stunting; the little mechanic had been a part of his mechanical crew during the war. He was a small boy, his bald head covered in a greasy mechanics hat. His titanium limbs twirled and fidgeted as he stared at the ground.
“W-w-welcome h-home, m-master,” The stunning said feebly.
Spider smiled and put his hand on the stuntling’s shoulder.
“I am nobody’s master. Come here, come all of you,” Spider called.
Slowly, out of the shadows and dark reaches of the garage, a dozen stuntlings in bright orange overalls and caps emerged. Their bodies were hunched, their eyes sunken, their faces taut. The stuntlings eyes darted up and down as they slowly scuttled towards Spider. They gathered below the rail platform, stairs descending into the dark and dismal mechanic’s bya. The Forge had clearly not been used for years. It would seem these poor people had been here waiting for purpose for quite some time.
Spider leaned on the railing, studying them all.
“You all fought beside me to free Mars, and for that, I am eternally grateful. I cannot own anyone, especially you fine young ones. You are free to stay here or go about your lives as you see fit. I shall ensure you are more than compensated for your years of service.”
The small crowd murmured in disbelief.
“W-we a-a-are b-bound to-to t-the forge, m-my lord,” The closest stunting murmured.
One of the stuntlings, a tiny female spider with six metal limbs, sauntered forward.
“Where-where are-are-are your-your arms-s-s-s-s?” She asked cautiously.
The crowd nodded, several of their faces twisting into grimaces.
“R-real f-f-forge m-masters h-h-have m-more a-arms!” one squeaked.
Spider smiled and leaned forward.
“What is your name?”
“Ro-o-o-o-osie.”
Spider grinned.
“That is a wonderful name, Rosie.”
Spider heaved himself up onto the railing and ignited his energy. Pushing all his focus, he reached his proper form, two massive arms made of fire sticking out from his rib cage, the rest of his figure lapping with flame, his eyes glowing white, his hair waving around.
The stuntlings either passed out, scurried away yelping, or fell face-first into the cement, their hands reaching outright in the lowest possible bow they could manage. Spider extinguished his energy, baring his teeth with upturned eyebrows and twiddling his thumbs.
“Was that a bit much?”
There was no response, so Spider turned to see the stuntling who had opened the door for him cowering in a corner, shivering and sweating, his eyes frantic, his metallic hands covering his face.
Spider pursed his lips, nodding.
“Right, sorry about that. But I truly am the Forge Master of Mars, and I am here to prepare for the greatest war the stars have ever seen. Once you have recovered, would you all be so kind as to help me?”