Dragon (A Histories of Purga Novel)

“Did you do as I asked?” Rone demanded as Fiona came up to him.

Her face was grimed with sweat and locks of her hair were plastered to her forehead. But she nodded.

“We destroyed both lifts. They were the only access points down here, so that should buy us some extra time.”

“Good,” he responded, looking out over the railing and into the prison. He could see his plan being put into action from his vantage point. A huge hole had been drilled into the prison’s floor thanks to Quel and his band of four other engineers.

If they couldn’t go up, the only other option was to go down, Rone reasoned. He planned to tunnel their way to the Great Sea and freedom. It wasn’t going to be easy but he was confident it would work.

The prison had been cleared of all the bodies and the recently freed citizens were all milling about uneasily. Most of them were dressed in the clothes the Blak Soldiers had been wearing, save for the children. No one had wanted to, but they were a better alternative to the filthy clothes they had been wearing.

“Any luck finding my father?” Rone asked Fiona.

“No. I’ve tried coaxing the information out of our prisoner but he still says he doesn’t know,” Fiona replied. “I’m beginning to think he really doesn’t.”

“Where would they be holding him?” Rone asked, mostly to himself. He was sure his father was down here somewhere. It was the only place that was secure enough to hold the man.

“Rone,” Darvian said, his voice cautious. “Are you sure he’s even alive? What purpose could they have in keeping the King breathing?”

“Shut up, Darv,” Rone answered. “I refuse to believe they would’ve killed him. He’s too valuable. He knows all the access codes to the city’s defenses and weapons. He knows all its secrets as well. They would be complete fools to just kill him.”

“Does anyone else have that kind of information?” Fiona asked and Rone shot her a dark look. “Sorry, I had to ask.”

“No. The King is the only person that has access to the codes. They were decreed too dangerous for general knowledge, so my father restricted access to just himself. Not even I know them,” Rone answered hotly. “So again, they would be complete fools to just kill him.”

“Then where would they put him?” Darvian asked.

Before anyone could think to answer there were loud shouts and the noise of blasters going off. Screams immediately erupted afterward.

Rone, Darvian and Fiona all ran head first for the stairs and took them two or three at a time until they reached the ground floor. People were running and yelling, trying to get away from something. When they burst through the crowd, they found Quel and his band of four other engineers swarm out of the hole they were drilling. One wasn’t fast enough though. He took a round of blaster fire to his back and screamed in pain. There was a bloody hole where it hit him and thin curls of smoke drifted off his shirt and flesh. Quel reached down quickly and snatched the man’s arm, hauling him by main strength until he was out of the hole and on the floor. The man’s screams rose higher for a moment and then abruptly quit.

Rone looked at Quel, but the big man shook his head.

“What the hell is going on?” Rone asked.

“The drills bored right into some kind of chamber buried another two or three hundred feet beneath us. When we breached, we found ourselves face to face with twelve Blak Soldiers, all of them armed. They were right behind us when we came through.”

Rone stared at the entrance to the tunnel. Dimly, he heard the pounding of boots echo up from its depths.

“Fall back to safety!” Rone yelled. “Soldiers, to the fore! Prepare to fight!”

Rone had been relieved to find out that about thirty or so Royal Infantrymen had been captured as well and imprisoned inside Detention Sector 1. They ran forward now to defend everyone.

The elderly, the men and women who weren’t trained fighters, and the children all scrambled back from the hole’s edge and ran for cover. As they were leaving, the soldiers closed into a tight knit group of concentric circles around the hole. The first circle was on their stomachs, weapons pointed at the dark abyss. The second circle was on one knee and a third circle was behind them on their feet. The formation provided each circle with an unobstructed line of sight so that they could fire into the hole the minute they saw the Blak Soldiers.

They waited for a long time, but no one came.

Rone cursed angrily. The enemy soldiers must’ve fallen back to their original position when they recognized the dangers of pursuing an enemy out of a hole and into an unfamiliar area.

“They fell back,” he said. “They want us to come in after them.”

“I’d be glad to lead a team in there, Your Highness,” a man said. He just finished getting off his stomach from the first ring of soldiers. “I have experience with missions like these.”

“Who are you?” Rone asked him.

The man was young, probably three or four years older than himself. But he was tall and built with lean, rigid muscle. He had dark skin and his dark brown eyes stared straight into Rone’s with confidence. His black hair was shaved close to his skull and his lips were drawn into a firm line.

“Lieutenant Pillar Niopian, 501st Brigade, Royal Infantry, Sir!” He saluted, crisply.

“How were you and your men captured?” Rone asked.

“Some of us stayed back to try and help the civilians escape. The rebel army cut us off and imprisoned us,” Lt. Pillar responded. His words were sharp and crisp. “With your permission, sir, I can lead my team in there and take care of the situation.”

“How many on your team?”

About twenty men and women came to stand behind Pillar. They were all a mean, toughened group. They were scarred and beaten up, but they were strong. Each one had a fierce look in their eyes and seemed to thrum with the prospect of flushing out the rebels. They saw it as a chance for some payback.

“At your leave then, Lieutenant,” Rone replied. He stepped back so that Pillar and his group could gather at the edge of the hole. “Your orders are to infiltrate the chamber that was breached and deal with the rebel soldiers currently holding position there. By any means necessary.”

Pillar nodded. He raised his right arm closer to his face. The surface of his octagonal mechpak suddenly changed into a dark screen. A second later, it lit up bright blue. Rone watched Pillar carefully scan through his assortment of blueprints until he found what he wanted. He pressed a finger to it and his vents opened, spewing nanos into the air. They coalesced into a heavy shield and a blaster big enough to burn a man-sized hole in a wall.

The other soldiers had all outfitted themselves as well. All of them wore a shield of the same design as Pillar, but their weapons differed. Some held small blaster pistols. One had a cannon-like gun bigger than Pillar’s and another one had a long-sword to go with her shield. The assortment of weaponry only got crazier from there. One of the soldiers had even created a miniature-scaled ballista (or a miniature giant crossbow) that followed behind him like a loyal pet. A deadly looking bolt lay on it and its sharp point glittered faintly in the light.

They all looked happy to have the use of their nanos back. Each cell in Detention Sector 1 emitted a jamming frequency that made it impossible to gain access to them. Now that they were free, the frequency no longer effected them.

Pillar looked at Rone, saluted again and gave him a faint nod.

“Good luck and be careful,” Rone told him, saluting back.

“Yes, Your Highness.”

“Wait,” Fiona said. Rone and Darvian looked at her. “I’m going with you.”

“That’s not a good idea,” Darvian piped up, his brows furrowing with concern. Fiona stared back at him, her eyes narrow and hard. He ignored the look and walked up to her. He put a hand on her wrist and looked her in the eyes. “You could be killed.”

Taken aback by his concern, she was momentarily speechless. Then her eyes narrowed again and she jerked her arm back. “You have no say in what I do,” she told him harshly. “Not anymore.”

She shoved past Pillar and his men and started picking her way down the slope that Quel and his engineers had built into the tunnel.

Pillar stared after her in shock for a minute and then back at Rone.

“Better catch up to her,” he said, worried as well for Fiona. “I don’t want her tangling with Blak Soldiers by herself. And hurry. This is costing us time. We need to move and move fast.”

****

At first, Fiona was fine. She wasn’t even nervous about walking down a long, dark tunnel that had several enemy soldiers lurking in its depths. The only thing she could focus on was her anger. Anger at Darvian for thinking he had any control over her. Anger at the Blak Army for destroying Roanoke and killing so many people. She was angry that her father was missing and she had no idea where he was.

She wanted to see him again. She wanted to make sure he was all right. She wasn’t sure how she was going to do it, but she was going to get the truth about what happened to him. And she was going to find him.

“Girl!” a voice whispered harshly.

She whipped her head around and found herself face to…chest, with Pillar. She looked up at him, that fierce, battle-ready scowl back on her face.

“What?” she nearly yelled.

“This is not a mission for amateurs. If you come with us, then you keep your head. Otherwise I will drag you up to the entrance and throw you out of here myself,” he warned.

“I know what to do,” she answered back, getting right up in his face. “Don’t test me.”

“Then take your position on the right. Ready a shield and weapon,” he said, moving close to her.

The screen on his mechpak sprang to life again and he nimbly went through it until he found the blueprint for the shield alone. He linked with Fiona’s mechpak after she approved it and pressed the send button. A second later, the blueprint showed up on Fiona’s screen. She tapped it and her nanos created the same shield as the others. After another brief scan, Fiona found a blueprint that had her nanos create a gauntlet with two protruding barrels on top. She looked at Pillar.

“Ready,” she told him.

He jerked his head to the right. Pillar’s soldiers were all forming into a rough square, their shields facing outward and interlocking with each other. A classic phalanx. Anyone trying to shoot at them would only hit the reinforced armor of their shields while they, in turn, could pick the enemy off. It was an ancient tactic, but it was effective. She took her position and fit her shield with the one on her left and the one of her right. They marched slowly and methodically down the dark hole.

The one drawback to the formation was that it was hard to see. The tightly compacted shields reduced vision down to a narrow crack. They got about thirty or forty yards in when they were attacked. The Blak Soldiers yelled and shouted out wordless battle cries. Blaster fire sizzled through the air but were met with the skill and steel of their shields. They continued moving forward, as immutable as a force of nature. Nothing the Blak Soldiers tried worked. Pillar, Fiona, and the rest just kept coming.

Every few minutes, the Lieutenant would call a halt and they would all return fire. Accuracy, however, wasn’t their strong suit. In that round, they only managed to down one enemy soldier and that had been more luck than skill. The blaster fire from one of Pillar’s soldiers, a woman with short black hair that went to just below her ears and skin nearly as dark as his, had blindly let loose a shot. It hit the enemy squarely in the face and he crumpled to the ground.

As they continued their push, the rebels retreated farther back and out of sight. Fiona could feel her blood pumping faster and faster.

The phalanx walked another twenty yards and came to the breach. The rebels were nowhere to be seen.

They crept forward, edging closer to the hole.

They all expected trouble from down there.

No one was looking up.