Treacherous

alenanoemi has made a valid point in a review and I thank her for mentioning it. 'Can this story drag or hop around any more?' Damn, I hope not. :-D I have these pictures in my head, and sometimes they're not connected IN ANY WAY. But for some reason or other I don't want to leave them out. 'Head on the Throne', 'The Blue Orb', etc. These don't necessarily connect, but I hope they give insight into the characters. Also, I give anyone who has plodded through a round of applause.

With this chapter I hope to bring some flow back into this fic, connecting the chapters, and, hopefully, making you feel like the fic is getting somewhere. alenanoemi's other point was "what's their purpose?" Well, I'm working on that too.

I'll give 2 chapters tonight, out of remorse, and gratitude.

Thanks for reading!

Chapter 43

Planned to the second and executed to perfection. Of course. The Icons broke through the outer layers of atmosphere on Teos and immediately started receiving fire. Blisters of harmless fire raised along their length. Wasted. They had a purpose and nothing of this universe could defer them from it.

Bell stood at Riddick’s side on the command deck. A portal in the floor gave view to the planet below them and the battle that was just rising up to meet them.

A brilliant light had her squinting and had Riddick cursing and covering his eyes.

The Icons hit and imbedded with a powerful impact. Hundreds of meters around them became instantly cleared save for bits of demolished buildings and smaller debris.

Riddick had seen this before, from the ground. She could feel his familiarity to it, a recollection. But it was new to her, and awesome. Despite its overwhelming destructive force it was impossible to deny its beauty. She could feel that even Riddick was impressed with their first contact on Militia’s home world.

Now the real battle was beginning. In the air. Gone from the seconds of shocked stillness to macabre light show. Tracer rounds lit the sky, crisscrossing the sky in a network that was as beautiful as it was intricate. Patterns of lighted rounds marked mid-air explosions. Smoke trails and debris shared the air with bulleting ships and the bright points of those that didn’t make it.

Customarily the main ships would wait until daybreak before settling into the clearing made for them by the preliminary blasts. When the initial invasion was done and the threat of danger to the elite was minimal. That was not the case now. They would wait, but not long.

The plan was to wait for the air fight to die down before sending in the ground troops. That wasn’t really a decision to make, but a time-tested military tactic. At that time the transports, including the Basilica would land, releasing soldiers onto Teos like a swarm of ants. They would spread out, killing those that fought, capturing anyone else. No one was to be left alive on Teos when they departed if it could be helped. The captives would be sorted out later, Universal guidelines getting involved at that point.

For a long time it appeared that the smaller Necromonger fighters had met their match. Differences in the tracer rounds distinguished one force from the other and it seemed as if there were equal casualties on both sides. But slowly there was a detectable shift in the tide. The dark Monger fighters were too resilient, and their pilots too proficient. The Militia just wasn’t capable of ousting a force so big and so well practiced at this very act. Dozens of worlds invaded before this. There was no reason to believe Teos wouldn’t fall.

The Basilica was approximately ten kilometers above Teos’ capital city. Through the floor-portal in the command dick their field of vision was wide. In theory this city was the location of the most concentrated opposition the world over. When rather than if it fell no other could stand alone.

Each insignificant flash of light of a ship exploding marked the end of a life or two. It was staggering to calculate considering that those flashes of light, so small from this high, were appearing at dozens per second. But gradually it lessoned. Down to one a second or so, then just a stray explosion as the Necromongers hunted down the last of the Militia’s air force.

Riddick shifted, a barely there movement, but it put everyone on alert. The Lord Marshal was about to act.

His head rose from the dark scene below. Bell noted the deep crinkles of a frown between his eyes despite his deadpan expression as his gaze sought out Vaako.

A moment of silence, both men staring, and everyone else waiting his words.

“Take us down.”

Bell’s heart jumped in her chest, beating a crazy rhythm against her ribs. This was real. This was dangerous. And this was right now.

Voices shouted as soldiers and crew alike ran to their tasks. Everyone wanted to be a part of this.

Bell took a deep breath. She was scared. But mostly she was excited. She’d never been a soldier in battle. Never imagined herself in such a situation. And couldn’t fathom why she was so eager. Maybe like the rest of the men running to their duties she just wanted to make her mark.

To take part in ending the oppressive tyranny the UDMC had held over the entire universe for generations was historic, momentous and astronomically fantastic. She and a rejected orphan turned convict were at the helm of what would be the most distinguished event of not just their generation, but possibly a dozen to come.

She turned. Her guards were waiting in the Necropolis below. She didn’t think they’d been assigned to her so she could take them into battle, but that was exactly what she planned. She doubted a single one of them would argue.

A hand on her neck gripped and pulled her back. She almost yelped at the abrupt reeling in.

His mouth on her was hard and unexpected and welcome. Fast and rough, his apparition swept over her as his tongue swept into her. In that one act he relayed his worries, his demands, and his wishes to her, while staking claim before all those still left to watch.

“Stay on the ship if you can. Stay out of trouble. And no matter what, stay with your fucking guard.”

She smiled at his growled words, but nodded her understanding. Struck momentarily dumb by his unexpected public display of affection and his intensity. The look of him, the feel of him. Raw homicidal power. She feared for any Militia that stepped into his path.

Bell had no intention of staying on ship. The ship was under heavy guard, surrounded and defended by troops on the ground and in the air. It was as safe as it could be made. She trusted Ramsay, and Riddick, with their precautions. That said, she didn’t want to stay behind waiting when she had the opportunity to be a part of this.

She didn’t speak to Riddick again for six hours. She felt him occasionally, at least his proximity. Never was he within shouting distance. She spoke to him once over comm., but that didn’t go well. He wasn’t happy about her being off-ship, but that wasn’t about to make her go back.

They were both somewhere in the dark hellish streets. Separated by space and their own differences, she felt worlds apart from him.

Bell killed.

Not the desperate slaying of a delivery boy by a mother trying to reach her children. Not the blossoming supernatural strength of a mind defending itself. She stood face to face with her assailant and pulled the trigger before he could, then watched in gruesome detail as his head split apart or his insides blasted out as his body launched backwards. She used her knife to spill blood and entrails from the bellies of screaming men, wetting her hands with their blood.

Her guards, her men, had quickly become her friends. She knew them by name within an hour and had returned the favor of them saving her life repeatedly within two.

Mostly they formed a circle around her, doubled in some places. For every kill she’d made they’d each made a dozen, no doubt.

They lost one man. Hallard. He lost most of his skull when they were ambushed at a corner. But Necromongers were nothing if not fierce fighters. They took honor in hand-to-hand combat, but would just as quickly use a gun if it meant they’d live to kill again.

Bell was mystified by the continued resistance of the people of Teos. Militia and citizens alike stood against them. And under the circumstances it was kill or be killed.

For hours they moved through the streets. They encountered others of their forces. Once she even saw Commander Toal from a distance, but he pretended to not see her. Bastard.

A large stone building. Old. It looked non-descript, but Bell had a buzzing need to see the inside. So they fought forward. It was defended well, shots ringing out from the shadowy alcoves between the huge columns at its front. Bell didn’t feel any alarm until she saw a boy go down.

“Stop!”

Immediately her men drew to a halt and moved in to surround her. But they were in the open and under fire.

“Get back! Get us to cover!”

Not accustomed to retreat, it was an awkward movement. Bell shuffled along within their protective circle until they were behind a neighboring corner.

“What is it?”

She had all of their attention now. But she shook her head. “I don’t know. Something’s wrong. That boy you killed, Gabor. He couldn’t have been more than fourteen or fifteen. That’s not right.”

“He fought,” Gabor argued, not used to having his actions questioned.

“I know,” she nodded, raising a hand to placate him. “The fault isn’t with you. There’s something else.” She peeked around the corner to see the front of the impressively large historic looking building. “It’s that place. There’s something wrong here.”

Bell stilled and listened, just listened. Noise everywhere. The men shuffling, the crackle of fire, gunfire nearby, shouts from further away, ships overhead, an explosion somewhere off to her right. Hard to hear yourself with all the rest going on.

Still nothing. She couldn’t say for sure why, but taking that building by force was not an option.

“Stay back for a minute, and stay your weapons.” She pointed to the corners around them, still out of sight of the building. “Take point, defend our flank, but no more shots are to be directed at that building.”

They nodded in unison, four of them moving out to guard their asses.

Bell moved to the edge of the corner. They were maybe twenty meters out from the building still.

“Inside the building!” she yelled. “We don’t want to hurt anyone else.”

No answer came. Bell was getting ready to yell again when a shout echoed out.

“NECROMONGERS KILL EVERYTHING!”