Hoplite eased the wagon to a complete halt, stopping just before the entrance of one of the many designated rest areas along the bridge. He could see a small horde of Fiends slowly approaching from the horizon, perhaps around a hundred in total, give or take. Hoplite didn’t think that they were aware of the wagon’s presence just yet, but they soon would be. Another significantly larger horde was approaching from the opposite side of the bridge, a conglomerate of smaller groups that Hoplite had been avoiding while pulling the wagon across the Greatbridge. Both groups would need to be dealt with before the party would be able to rest in the shelter.
Hoplite had considered just ignoring Twindil to plow forward for as long as he was able. After all, the faster the mission was finished, the better. Yet her argument had held logic. Theopalu and Nolvi may have been able to rest, true, but it would be impossible to sleep in the wagon for everyone else.
If they were all exhausted for when Hoplite himself had to rest, they’d be less efficient in fighting off any approaching Fiends. That could prove to be a potentially fatal risk; a risk that had no real need to be taken. Hoplite’s concern had purely been on the time it would take to reach the other end of the Greatbridge. The longer it took to finish the operation, the more casualties his fellow Ternans would face. They could be fighting for their lives against Hordes of Fiends as well as the climate of the Fiendwood itself… Not to mention the Final Kind. Though the Final Kind survivors themselves would have to face the same challenges as the Eighth Arm if they had crashed in the Fiendwood.
They could have crashed in the middle of a swarm of Fiends, and depending on the size of the horde, leaving the pod would be an almost-certain death sentence. Hopefully, some Argo dropships would have already rescued any Eighth Arm troops stranded in the Fiendwood. That was assuming that the Argos hadn’t been shot down during the evac of the Sparrow. Hoplite didn’t know if any Final Kind ships had survived the EMP effect of the antimatter bomb, but if they had, they’d have eliminated any Argos fleeing the Sparrow’s hangar.
Then again, if the EMP had fried Final Kind systems, wouldn’t it have fried any vehicles aboard the Sparrow as well? Every single Argo and dozens of land vehicles had been missing from the bay once Hoplite had awoken in the dark bowels of the Sparrow… They would not have been functional had an EMP destroyed their electronics. The escape pods had been fine, but they had a protected power source in case of that scenario. The Sparrow also possessed external shielding to protect from EMP’s, but the Antimatter bomb had detonated from within the Sparrow itself most likely. Captain Henry Stol had not been able to launch it as he would have with a standard missile, Hoplite assumed that the captain's only option had been to detonate it point-blank.
Had Hoplite just assumed that the Sparrow was completely unusable? Maybe it wasn’t really an EMP, and instead had just forced a shutdown of all electronics in the blast radius. If that was true, the Sparrow could be made fully operational again… assuming the Argos had enough fuel to make it all the way back up to the moon. It was very unlikely, those dropships were probably running on fumes after the trip down planetside. They would be running on fumes indeed if they had not been shot down by any Final Kind craft.
Hoplite hadn’t seen any wreckage floating in space besides the Dragon itself, which implied the best-case scenario of a full evacuation of all surviving personnel. Hoplite was still worried though, he himself hadn’t been picked up by an Argo in the days he’d been planetside and if they really were intact, they would have found Hoplite by now. Had they run out of fuel? Was there a more important objective than retrieving Hoplite? His eyes then widened a fraction as he came to a grim realization.
They thought he was dead.
At least, it was very likely they believed Hoplite was dead. The last those troops had seen of Hoplite was when he was onboard the Sparrow… Right after he had been knocked unconscious by a Yugoro. Why would they waste time looking for someone they thought had died onboard the ship? Why hadn't they tried to retrieve Hoplite from the bay? A couple exo-troops would have been able to evac Hoplite… perhaps he had fallen unconscious in a dangerous crossfire zone? There had to be a reason. In any case, they wouldn’t believe that any survivors would have landed on the opposite side of the planet… why use up precious fuel flying to the other side of the world when all personnel had landed in the eastern hemisphere?
No Argos would be coming this way to find Hoplite, to them, he was KIA. He bumped his chin to check for any radio signals, only to come up with static. Definitely no emergency beacons toward this end of the bridge, nor any radio chatter.
“Sir?” Michael asked from the wagon, brow furrowing slightly, “You alright?”
That’s right, no Argos came for Michael either, though his pod had been thrown off course by Kazon. Maybe Michael’s trajectory would have landed him firmly in the Fiendwood? Perhaps on the Greatbridge itself or even worse, down in the massive flowing river below. The pods were equipped with diving gear in case of such a scenario, but landing under water was still a worst-case scenario. How many had landed in the waters as opposed to on land? Would he be able to even pick up on any signals from those depths?
“Sir?” Michael asked again.
“Affirmative. I’m checking for radio signals.” Hoplite replied flatly, “I’m not picking up anything.”
Michael groaned, wiping a hand down his face before rising from his seat, “I figured we wouldn’t be that lucky.” He said in a disappointed tone, “Well, we should probably get goin’ in there for the night after we clear out the freaks.”
“Affirmative.” Hoplite replied, ducking under the bar of the wagon to approach the closest group of Fiends, “Conserve your energy. I can take care of these myself.” He said loudly, “You all can set up inside the shelter, I’ll take the time to neutralize the hostiles. My armor will protect me.”
Michael simply nodded, placing a fist over his chest and saying, “Yes sir.”
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Lance however, seemed to not be so eager, “You’ve been running all day Hoplite, aren’t you tired?” She asked concernedly. “If we work together, we can get it done faster.”
Twindil nodded along with Lance’s words, “It wouldn’t be fair for you to take the duty of slaying all the Fiends by yourself Hoplite. You should really rest.”
Hoplite was only slightly fatigued with today’s efforts, eliminating these Fiends would be no issue for him.
“Negative. I am still fully functional.” Hoplite told them honestly, “Fiends have nothing that can get through my armor. You all are vulnerable to infection. This is optimal to minimize risk.”
Elum gave a small shake of his head, laughing as he said, “I can’t argue with sense, nor do I want to.”
“That’s because you’re lazy.” Alistair replied flatly, standing from his seat with a groan, “By the Pillars my back…” He groaned with a wince.
“Everyone halt a moment.” Twindil said, holding out her arms, “We must reconcile for the earlier outbursts. If we allow that anger to linger and fester, it will infect our hearts. Kazon will use that to his advantage. The protection that I request from Afina will be at its strongest once everyone is tranquil.” Michael and Alistair’s eyes immediately locked for a long moment before they turned away from one another, and Twindil frowned, “Really, you are both adults are you not? Are you men, or are you boys? Apologize to one another, realize that it was Kazon that had flared your anger and move on.” She finished with a firm nod, crossing her arms under her breastplate
Hoplite watched as both Michael and Alistair grumbled under their breaths, clasping hands for a moment before they both muttered half-hearted apologies. Twindil sighed and shook her head, her eyes locking on Hoplite next.
“Now it is your turn.” Twindil said, “You threatened Alistair's life.”
“Because he threatened my subordinate.” Hoplite replied flatly, “I am not angry anymore, but there is no need for me to apologize. As you said, it was Kazon that interfered with our emotional status. It would be better to simply accept that, and move on.”
Twindil opened her mouth, eyes glaring for a moment before Alistair raised a hand to stall her. “No,” He told Twindil, “He is right… it was Kazon’s fault, none of ours. Still though…” He paused briefly, eyes turning to Michael. “I’m sorry for what I said.”
Michael frowned for a brief instant, letting out a small sigh before saying, “I’m sorry I called ya Alisturd.” He said quickly, “Knowin’ that Kazon chump made us mad makes me even more mad.”
Alistair nodded, “I agree. When we find him, I’m going to wallop him with the force of a thousand suns.”
Then the two young men paused a brief instant, staring one another in the eyes with a deadly seriousness before they both grinned.
“...Mutual hatred bonds stronger than blood…” Nolvi yawned, sitting up from her seat with a stretch, “That was a good sleep, I didn’t know that the journey would be so relaxing.”
Michael and Alistair then both frowned, turning to stare at Nolvi with brows knit.
“You crazy?” Michael asked, “Look, it was fun but it sure as hell wasn’t relaxin’.” He finished with a shake of his head.
“Nolvi has always been an oddball,” Alistair started, crossing his arms, “Ever since we were children.”
“So you guys have been friends for a bit?” Michael asked, stepping past Alistair and shouldering his rifle.
“We all have, save for this lazy shriveled sack of bones right here.” Alistair said, sneering down at the still snoring Theopalu.
Hoplite ignored the rest of their conversation as he ducked beneath the pull-bar, eyes firmly set on the horizon and the crowds of approaching Fiends. He’d need to work fast before the crowd behind the wagon caught up. As Hoplite had that thought, Baomiel the ‘Angel’ appeared out of thin air next to the wagon. Like last time, the creature hadn’t shown up on his motion tracker before it revealed itself, as if it really were being summoned from nowhere.
After all Hoplite had seen up to this point, who was to say that Baomiel hadn’t been summoned? The rules of this world were still brand new to Hoplite, and until he became familiar with their intricacies, he’d be left in the dark. This feeling of ignorance irritated him more than Hoplite would have expected. Back in his dimension, the rules were clear cut and simple to understand… at least they were to Hoplite.
Here on Ahkoolis however, he still felt as if he were only scratching the surface of how things functioned. Hoplite had asked so many questions yet he still felt so annoyingly ignorant. Perhaps it had to do with his initial denial upon landing in the Faewood. At the time he’d simply written off so much valuable intel as lost colony hogwash… he’d not make that mistake again going forward.
Hoplite continued on his path forward, seeing that Baomiel had opted to charge in the opposite direction. Alistair likely ordered the creature to take care of the approaching hordes that were no doubt following after the trail of the wagon. Was Baomiel not susceptible to the Death Spiral curse? If it truly was an otherworldly being, then perhaps the curse simply wouldn’t be able to transfer to Baomiel’s alien biology.
Or perhaps Baomiel was made of a kind of pure energy; if that were the case, then no kind of curse or disease would be able to harm it. Curses and how they functioned were still largely unknown to Hoplite, perhaps the Death Spiral really could infect the angel? Based on how Alistair carelessly sent Baomiel after the Fiends alone, Hoplite guessed that the angel would be unaffected.
Hoplite decided that he would discuss this with Alistair once the surrounding bridge was cleared of any inbound threats. If Baomiel was immune to the curse, then it should be utilized in the field permanently, up until this mission was completed. There was simply no need for the others to risk getting cursed if Hoplite and Baomiel were all but immune to it. True, Hoplite did not know for sure if he really was immune to the Death Spiral, but with the Phalanx armor he may as well have been.
If pain could not be inflicted upon Hoplite by a Fiend, then he simply could not be infected. He marched forward, drawing the Sectis from its sheath to hold it in a reversed grip. The dark metal gleamed in the fading sunlight, as Hoplite plotted the best ways to end the coming fight as quickly as possible. He did not want to use his guns on the approaching Fiends, the noise would surely send more of the infected running to reach the source. Not only that, but Hoplite wanted to conserve as much of his ammunition as was possible.
The wagon was flush with ammunition a plenty, but considering the countless numbers of Fiends that would be inhabiting the Fiendwood… Well, it would be best to be conservative. He braced his foot against the bridge, and launched himself forth, barreling toward the coming creatures with the Sectis ready to slash, completely unaware of the golden eyes staring down at him from the sky high above.