For the men of the Vanguard, the rest of the day and ensuing night were relatively peaceful, but from his resting place among his comrades, Tanlon watched the stormtroopers assemble dozens of heavy weapon emplacements in addition to machine gun nests and a minefield. Even if he was somewhat jealous that his original regiment had not been issued any heavy pieces like the stormtroopers were currently using, he was in awe of their armor-clad forms. The Emperor’s stormtroopers were legendary among the rank and file since each man among them had to be a veteran of at least nine battles before they were allowed to even attempt the rigorous training that the corps demanded. The result was hardened soldiers who were the tip of the spear in the heaviest engagements.
They wore gasmasks like the Vanguard, but the similarities ended there. Since each man was a costly investment in experience and training, their armor was of far better quality and coverage than the cheap vests they issued to the rank-and-file troopers. Furthermore, their weapons were a fearsome assortment of plasma casters, automatic slug throwers, missile launchers, and various other implements of death. Their reputation for utterly annihilating the enemies of the Empire was well-earned.
The last thing Tanlon saw before falling asleep was the dark shapes of the stormtroopers still in motion, though the night had long cast its cosmic curtain. Underneath the witness of a billion stars, Tanlon prayed, but no voice replied. So he dreamed, of a white-haired girl fighting monsters, and though he was tired and broken, he yearned to help her.
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“I can’t believe those black coats are just going to sit back and watch us from there,” Snell growled to Tanlon and nodded toward the assembly of stormtroopers and commissars at the bottom of Hemlock’s slopes. Tanlon did not say anything, because if Paradise had taught him anything, it was that life was really just that unfair.
"Hey, quiet Snell, I'm getting a headcount," Haylock spoke from the front of their line of fifty men. Yesterday when the commissar had spoken to them, he had also asked for volunteers to lead each of the four lines. Tanlon remembered that old High Ender's advice and shut his mouth, but Haylock, heedless of the very advice he gave Tanlon, had jumped at the opportunity. When Tanlon asked him why he volunteered, the High Ender had merely shrugged and replied, "We're this close to finishing this jump together, brother. I'm not going to let some green horned One be my squad leader and get us killed in the final effort." That answer and the fact that Haylock had chosen to stay and fight with them despite the carrot of escape dangled in his face yesterday made Tanlon decide that he would follow that man into the void itself.
While Haylock was hurriedly ordering Mad, his appointed second, to do a recount, Snell whispered to Tanlon, “A deserter. Probably had a long night of thinking and took off while we all slept. Can’t say I blame him, had a thought or two myself.”
“Well, where can someone desert to here?”
“There’s a nice ocean nearby, maybe he took a swim?”
“That water will melt your skin off.”
“Eh, probably figured he’s dead either way.”
Haylock’s orders interrupted Tanlon’s reply as his buddy started going down the line and spouting motivational sayings.
“Five more minutes and then we go in men! The Emperor is counting on us!”
“The Emperor’s forgotten about us,” Snell muttered, but Tanlon pretended not to hear his defeatism. Though Haylock was not a very charismatic speaker, he had taught them that they all needed to flip the switch in their heads for the coming battle. The commissar had made it clear that the majority of the enemy had been killed last night and that only dregs remained. They were not even going all the way into the mountain, since their objective was to only find the main intersection and hold it while reinforcements followed behind.
A sharp whistle came from the commissars below them, it was Gourke, and he was waving a hand forward for them to advance. The other three lines of troopers started their march up the hill toward their destinations.
“Here we go boys, follow me!” Haylock shouted and started leading them further up the mountain slopes. The rocks slid under Tanlon’s feet and more than once he had to try and keep his balance on the steep incline. When he almost fell, Snell caught him by the rifle strap and stabilized him without a word since a pat on the arm said all that was needed.
When Tanlon started wondering if the mountain would go on forever, Haylock stopped at a large boulder, signaled a halt, and commanded for them to be at the ready. Everyone tensed as several troopers went around the boulder and waited for either the sound of rifle fire or Screamers, but neither came as one of the troopers came back and gave the all-clear. All fifty of them went around the boulder and were greeted by the yawning maw of a hole in the mountain. It had been explained to them that it was from a series of interconnected tunnels like this one, that the Screamers had been pouring out of the mountain during their attacks. Now the entrance was being used against the Yabanchi and they would be the ones getting invaded. The irony of it did not give Tanlon any joy, since he would have much preferred staying outside, but when Haylock went in first, everyone else followed since to do otherwise would have them be branded cowards.
The tunnels looked well used, as evidenced by the hordes of Screamers that had been throwing themselves down the slopes in the past weeks, but Tanlon would have thought they would be bigger given the size of those monsters. There was barely any room for them to march two abreast of each other and at one point Tanlon let his hand brush against the walls. He almost wished he hadn’t, since it was covered in claw marks and grooves left by the hands of previous inhabitants of the mountain.
“Torch!” Haylock’s command was met with a bright light that pierced into the tunnel’s darkness. Their line had been supplied with over a dozen of the bright lights, with orders to drop one every hundred or so feet for the reinforcements that would follow them. When they had gone so far inside the mountain that the natural light of day had faded away, Tanlon appreciated their glow much more. Yet despite the claustrophobic eeriness of the tunnel and their heightened paranoia, nothing had gone wrong yet.
When they had gone far enough that the light from the last torch was a dim reminder, Haylock ordered another one be lit. As the trooper in the front was about to do so, another light lit up the tunnel with its red light. A laser beam split through the trooper’s head and the dead man dropped the torch, unlit it sank into the sand of the floor.
“Incoming!” Haylock yelled to the rest of the line and every trooper aimed his rifle down the tunnel, but it was so dark, they could not make out their targets. Another laser came and this time hit a man in the belly. Its red lance blew through his guts and sent him howling against the wall, clutching his abdomen. Troopers started opening fire, blindly trying to hit whatever was in front of them in the darkness, but Haylock shouted them down since they were just as likely to cause friendly fire as anything else. More lances of red death came hurling down their corridor and troopers fell at nearly every blow. The best they could do was hug the ground and occasionally pop a shot back into the dark, but their return fire seemed to have no effect.
Tanlon crawled on his belly toward where the first man died and a red beam narrowly missed where it went over his head. The sound of a scream behind him told him that it had not been totally ineffective, but neither had his trip, he had reached the fallen torch on the ground. Finding it, he flipped the switch on and pointed its powerful light toward their foe. Only a few meters away in the darkness, they were lit up and visible for the troopers to see.
They were not Screamers, but bug-like things with too many legs and not enough eyes. The mono-eyed monsters had several arms, each with a wicked-looking tool attached to the end of them, but the implant they were currently using was a stubby barreled thing that unleashed the lasers to great effect in the narrow tunnel corridor. When the light illuminated them, they did not cover their faces or act as if they were blinded. Instead, they chittered among each other and pointed their weapons at Tanlon on the ground.
As Tanlon watched in numb horror as the end of their barrels slightly glowed, the Yabanchi closest to him tumbled in a heap of limbs and ichorous gore. The barks of rifle fire behind him snapped Tanlon out of his stupor and he rolled to the side, just in time as lasers scoured the ground where he had been. With their chitinous forms illuminated, the half dozen or so remaining Yabanchi Drones were quickly dispatched by the front rank of their line, but when Tanlon stood up, still shaking, the sound of wounded men reminded him that the enemy was not the only one to take losses this skirmish.
“Mad,” Haylock nabbed his second. “Get me a casualty count. You two, keep those rifles pointed downrange and shoot anything that scuttles out there.” When Tanlon joined his friend, Haylock barely spared him a glance and a comment, "Real nice heroics Tan, but don’t go dying on me.” Tanlon did not have a chance to quip back, since Mad jogged up and told them the horrific details. Of the fifty-four men in their line, eight were dead and another nine were too severely injured to go on.
Haylock shook his head, eyes staring off into the dark and nothing, and said, "We have to press on. Assign one uninjured man with each of the wounded, but we can’t spare more than that. They ordered that we push on, even if there is only one man left.”
Snell cursed and said, “They’re killing us. None of us are expected to survive.”
“That’s enough out of you mister,” Haylock snapped at Snell. “Take your defeatist attitude with one of the wounded, I’m tired of hearing your grumbling.” Snell stopped and gestured helplessly, he did not want to just leave them despite how much he complained, but the look in Haylock's eyes was adamant. When Snell and the others left per Haylock’s orders, the line leader slumped and looked like he lost ten years of his life.
Stolen story; please report.
“I need someone to carry a torch, so we won’t be ambushed like that again. Volunteers?”
Of the twenty or so men left, no one volunteered, and after the awkward silence passed, Haylock sighed and grabbed one of the activated torches himself. Tanlon knew that no one, himself included, volunteered, since carrying that thing essentially made you a big, glowing target at the front of the line, but a pang of sympathy caused him to line up next to his friend and say, "Don't worry Haylock, I got your back." Mad squeezed in on Haylock's right, rifle up, and nodded at his friend too. The three of them, tightly packed at the front, led the remaining line of men further down the tunnel and into the dark below.
Fortunately, they only encountered those bug like Yabanchi one more time, and this time they were ready. Tanlon heard the chittering first and fired ahead into the dark that was too far for the torchlight to reach. Mad followed suit and after dumping their magazines into the tunnel they stopped and advanced. There was only one of them this time and it was still alive but wounded. It lay on its back, its lone milky eye darting back and forth, and hissed when they approached, but it could not get up. Haylock stepped forward and stomped on its ant-like face until its body stopped shuddering and its hissing ceased, but even then he kept going until Tanlon stopped him and calmed down his enraged comrade. He didn’t say anything because he understood the rage of that pent-up helplessness himself.
Eventually, the gentle downward slope of the tunnel they were traversing became an upward incline and they heard the sound of whirring and men yelling up ahead. Haylock motioned for most of the line to stay back while he, Tanlon, and Mad crept up the slope and peeked over into the tunnel ahead with the torch.
The good news was that they had finally reached the large intersection that was their objective. The bad news was that it was occupied by a large Yabanchi gunner in the center. The whirring noise was the sound of its machine guns blowing away troopers coming from out of the other tunnels in the intersection, machine guns which quickly trained on the new light coming from them. Haylock quickly ducked back down the slope with an oath and the other two slid after him as the torch they left up there disintegrated in a barrage of machine gun fire.
“Ach, what are we gonna do, just keep throwing ourselves at that thing until it runs outta ammo?” Mad stormed.
Tanlon did not have a clue either, since their tunnel exits made a perfect killing funnel for the crablike Yabanchi’s guns. It was Haylock who came up with the simplest of ideas.
“Hey over there! Can you hear me?!”
The sound of the machine guns had stopped, maybe because no other targets were presenting themselves or because it really was out of ammo, but Tanlon did not want to check. Instead, they waited until another voice called out from across the intersection.
“Who be that?”
“Trooper Haylock, Line One leader. Who are you?”
“Trooper Sten, Line Three! How many ya got left?”
“Half!”
Tanlon heard the loud curse from the man Haylock was talking to, even from across the intersection. “We lost half just stumbling into the room! Can’t take this thing down!”
Mad nudged Haylock, “What’s about that dart grenade they gave ya?”
“I’m not sure one will cut it,” he replied to Mad, but then he called out to Trooper Sten, “You got your dart grenade still?”
“Yeah, but can’t use the thing when that beast'll cut ya down as soon as ya pop your head up!”
“Ach, where are those other lines?” Haylock muttered. Tanlon had an idea come to him, one that went totally against old advice and common sense, but he suggested it anyway.
“What if I run on in? Distract it?”
“Big hero Tanlon wants to be big martyr Tanlon,” Mad replied, “You might as well shoot yourself now if ya have a death wish like that." Mad seemed to disapprove of the idea, but Haylock was quiet, contemplating, so Tanlon pushed further.
“I’m fast. I go in after Line three distracts it for a moment and when I have its attention, you both cast your dart grenades at it.”
Haylock stared at Tanlon and broke his silence, the Line Leader replaced by the concerned friend, “Tan, are you alright? Are the voices telling you to do this?”
“No, I’m not hearing any voices you swine! What else can we do? If you miss with the grenade because you’re in a rush or worse, it goes off in this tunnel, then we've reached the end of the line. You’re not going to get another volunteer to do this.”
Tanlon held his breath and waited for Haylock to answer. When Haylock looked at him again, it was with the cold eyes of resignation. “Fine then Trooper Tanlon, we’ll try your way.”
He shouted at Trooper Sten, “Hey there, we’re going to use our dart grenade on it, you still have yours?”
A moment of silence, then, “Yeah!”
“Well, distract it with a torch or something, we’re sending someone in!”
“That’s suicide!”
Haylock took a deep breath and muttered something Tanlon could not hear, “Yeah, just do it though! Toss your dart when you hear ours go off! It should be distracted!”
Tanlon huddled deeper into the dirt by the lip of the tunnel peak, he suddenly wanted to take back everything he said, but the cry stayed in his throat. Haylock poked him in the ribs, “I think they’re about to get its attention. Get ready.” He paused. “Good luck, brother.”
A dim light came from the other side of the intersection and the whirr of machine guns told Tanlon that it was facing the other side. Taking his moment that dragged for eternity, Tanlon lunged forward, dust kicking up, and ran inside the dark room. The Yabanchi Gunner loomed in front of him, a dark mass that scuttled in the darkness. Tanlon aimed his IM-3 where he thought it should be and fired. The muzzle blast briefly lit up the room and Tanlon saw the horrific reality of the beast looking directly at him. As he was about to die in a hail of gunfire, a large blast bloomed on the Gunner and knocked Tanlon off his feet. The Gunner stumbled too, though its large crab legs kept it from falling. It redirected its aim at Line One’s tunnel and was going to fire there instead when another blast took it from behind.
This time, the beast did fall, but it was not dead. It hissed and tried to stand again, though its wounded legs scrambled for purchase in the dirt of the intersection. The light illuminated the Gunner and Haylock's voice rang out, "Go, go, go! Take it down, circle it!" Troopers poured into the intersection and surrounded the Gunner, their IM-3s cracked and found wicked purchase in the exposed black eyes and meaty portions of the cyborg Yabanchi. The monster did not die immediately though and spat back vengeance of its own, cutting down men in front of it, but more troopers poured in from Line Three's tunnel and with their combined fire added to the fray, the horrific beast's gun arms finally smacked the ground with a resounding clang and death gurgle that bubbled from its ruined face.
With the threat disposed of, Tanlon sank onto his haunches and couldn’t get back up with the strength fled from his legs. The other troopers kept coming into the intersection, with more torches lighting up the vast space and took positions in the center, rifles looking for further enemies, but no Screamers came howling at them nor did any Drones fire their deadly beams. Without further orders, Haylock had the men wait at their positions and for the promised reinforcements.
The intersection had over a dozen tunnels in a circle around it, but the biggest feature was a set of two giant blast doors. Tanlon kept his eyes on the open entrances rather than the closed doors, but for some reason, his eye would eventually travel back to their rusted bulk, as if something were calling him from the other side of them.
After ten minutes the first sign of movement they saw was another four troopers stumbling out of one of the tunnels. The men were quiet and even when pried with questions, they only said that they were from Line Two and mumbled something about Screamers. No one from Line One ever arrived at the intersection.
After almost a half hour, with strange noises mewling from all around them, the first sign of their long-awaited reinforcements arrived. Stormtroopers and commissars poured from four of the tunnels and surrounded the troopers. Even though it was obviously clear, the stormtroopers kept their weapons up and trained wherever a threat could arise, the Vanguard troopers were no exception. When Tanlon was about to chew them out for aiming at them, new arrivals took his breath away.
First were four men, like figures out of some fantasy tale with their knightly armor and melee weapons. They looked even more cautious then the stormtroopers, huddled behind their shields and swords, but they must have thought the intersection was safe enough, since one of them gave a sharp signal whistle. Women, five beautiful women, strode into the intersection held by the Vanguard and surveyed the carnage before them. They all wore no masks and clashed with the dark colors of their surroundings with their bright armor and glowing weapons. A tall blonde woman stepped from their ranks and began giving orders in a foreign tongue to power armored commissars who then relayed those orders to the stormtroopers. In all, the Vanguard troopers in the center of the room by the dead Yabanchi gunner were soundly ignored and forgotten in the swell of newcomers.
Behind the flood of strange women and Stormtroopers, more Vanguard troopers followed behind, almost like an afterthought. Among them was Snell who promptly strode over to their group. Mad embraced him and Tanlon bumped his fist, but when Snell approached Haylock, he looked sheepishly at the ground.
“Hey, uh, guess I kind of embarrassed myself earlier. I just wanted to say, I’m sorry and I'm glad you guys are still alive." Haylock stood there, not saying anything and arms crossed, but eventually, he sighed and held out a hand to Snell, to which the other trooper promptly shook.
“Forgiven and forgotten, Snell. Honestly, I’ve already forgiven you for bringing these cuties to dance with us.” Haylock motioned to the women who were lined up by the blast doors. “Where’d you find them?”
Snell shrugged. “They found us. After we dropped off the wounded, they had us reform and follow them back into the tunnels.”
“So I guess Tanlon isn’t crazy after all,” Mad joked.
Tanlon was about to comment on the irony of Mad’s name when a bright red light suddenly caught their attention. One of the strange women, a short one with bright red hair and even redder eyes, was somehow firing a laser at the blast doors without a tool. The effect was too bright for Tanlon to stare at directly, but the woman was using her ability to carve through the thick metal doors and make an opening for them to storm through. After several minutes of melting through the steel, the cut-away section collapsed inward. A stormtrooper was waved to go through the opening, but a second after he stepped into that darkness, he came hurling out with a large bone spike protruding from out of his back. In response, the red-haired woman conjured more flames from her hands and sent a gout of it into the opening she had made. Horrific screams of inhuman pain answered her fire, but she kept it coming until it faded into the silence. With that, she stopped her torrent, and the assembled stormtroopers charged inside, followed by half a dozen commissars, and then the strange women themselves who walked in like they owned the mountain. Only one man remained, a commissar who approached the rag-tag group of Vanguard troopers.
“Troopers, listen up!” By his tone, Tanlon recognized him immediately, it was Commissar Gourke. “You will stay here and hold this intersection until we return. Anyone who returns to the surface without my approval will be shot as a deserter. Do I make myself clear?”
The assembled troopers murmured that they understood and when no one protested, Gourke heeled around and stalked inside through the hole in the blast doors. The troopers stayed in that intersection for a long time, another hour at least, and mostly listened to the sounds of battle that grew more distant as the other party advanced deeper into the mountains. When even those sounds were gone and replaced by the eerie quiet of the grave, Tanlon thought he felt something. He looked at the other troopers and they were standing still too, apparently having felt something as well. It came again, shaking and this time there was no doubting it. The sand underneath them heaved and men cried out in alarm to one another.
A deep groan came from the opening in the blast doors and an ancient wind blew clouds of dust in billows around the troopers. Every man pointed his gun at those blast doors, but nothing came through. A horrific thought crossed Tanlon’s mind. It was as if the mountain was coming to life.