March Upcountry

"Sure, sure," Julian said as he ripped down another support with the mechanically enhanced power of the armor. "We'll live until the juice gives out. While we watch the damned Kranolta kill everybody else. Then we'll have a choice between opening up or suffocating."

"We'll kill them at the same time," the private said. "We'll kill most of them that are left."

"Sure, but they'll wipe out the company while we do it. Which is why the Old Man didn't send us out in the first place."

He pulled down the last support and opened up the door to the bailey.

The door to Third Platoon's bastion was already open. Nobody was in sight, yet, but Julian figured they would be coming out as soon as Captain Pahner gave the word. Second Platoon's door was just... gone. He didn't want to think about what it must be like inside that tower.

He looked out over the rubble where the gatehouse had been. From the elevated "porch" in front of the keep, he could just make out the distant army that Pahner had spotted, and it looked formidable indeed. He dialed up the magnification on his helmet, and his jaw tightened. Most of the new force was armored, and if bronze armor wouldn't do the Mardukans much good against the rifles, it would let them hammer the Marines right under when it got down to hand-to-hand. And it would.

He jumped off the platform and onto the rubble in two long "bounces," then checked to be sure his chameleon system was engaged. The active system on the suits was more effective than that of the uniforms and made the armor virtually invisible, although the suits were "loud" both electronically and audibly, which gave advanced enemies many ways to target them. There were ways to counteract that as well, but not easily or when the suits were moving fast.

Not that it mattered in this case. The Mardukans weren't going to see anything but a flicker and bursts of bead fire punctuated with plasma bolts. It should seem like evil demons in their midst... as long as the juice lasted.

The original Kranolta force had moved around the shoulder of the hill and was preparing to hit Second Platoon again. He thought about triggering a burst of bead fire into them, but waited for orders. They would be coming soon enough, and he saw Third Platoon filing out of its bastion even as the army by the jungle started up the long slope to the battleground. The scummy reinforcements were at least four or five thousand strong, and their ba

"Who is that?" Danal Far asked.

"I don't know," his second in command replied, but he sounded uneasy. "It looks like... the host of Voitan."

"Hah!" It was the first good laugh Danal Far had had since this slaughter began. But they'd nearly taken the outer defenses, now. But for the damned fire-weapons, they would have already. The next push would see them in firm control of the bastion, and from there they could roll up these damned humans easily.

"Ghosts!" he scoffed. "No, it's some other tribe come to help us against these humans. Perhaps the Talna or the Boort."

"Nooo," Banty Kar said dubiously. "Neither use armor. The last time I saw such a host was in the fighting for T'an K'tass."

"Ghosts," the chieftain grunted again, but with a nervous edge. "All of those lands are ours, now. We took them, and we keep them. Even against these 'human' demons."

"Took them, yes," Kar said as he started toward the walls. "Keep them? Maybe."

"How's it going, Julian?" Pahner asked over the radio. Third Platoon—what remained of it—had gathered on the gatehouse rubble while Second and First pulled their dead and wounded out of the damaged bastion.

"Oh, fair, Sir. Looks like they're getting ready to come back."

"Very well." Pahner looked around at the pitiful remnants of his company, and shook his head. "Swing around to cover our front. Third Platoon, prepare to deploy over the rubble."

"It is T'an K'tass!" Banty Kar cried. The Kranolta second in command gestured at the flag that had just been unfurled atop one of the armored flar-ta. "That's the Spreading Tree!"

"Impossible!" Far shouted, refusing to believe his eyes. "We killed them all! We destroyed their warriors, and scattered their people to the winds."

"But we didn't kill their sons," his second grated in a voice of bleached, old bone, and a groan of despair went up from the Kranolta host as another ba

"Nor all the sons of Voitan."

"Captain," Julian called, "you might want to hold up. Something just happened with the two forces. The new one just raised some flags. I don't know scummies real well, but I don't think the Kranolta are all that happy to see these new guys after all."

"Understood," Pahner replied. "Keep me advised," he finished just as the Kranolta broke into a chant.

"Do you hear that?!" T'Leen Targ demanded. "That's the sound I've waited to hear most of my life: the sound of the Kranolta Death Chant!" The big, old Mardukan hefted the battle ax attached to his stump and waved it high. "Suck on this, you barbarian bastards! Voitan is back!"

"Aye!" T'Kal Vlan shouted back. The last of the princes of T'an K'tass grunted in laughter as he listened to the mournful dirge. "It's time for T'an K'tass to collect a debt!"

Much of the force consisted of mercenaries, gathered from all over the lower city-states. But the core of the army were the sons and grandsons of the cities fallen before the Kranolta. Both Voitan and T'an K'tass had managed to evacuate not only noncombatants, but also funds. Those funds had been scattered in businesses ventures in multiple city-states, awaiting the day when Voitan could rise again.

And this day, the humans had cleared the way.

"Oh, the demons are feasting well this day!" Targ clapped his remaining true-hand to the ax in delight as he surveyed the mountainous piles of corpses. "Look at the souls these humans have sent on!"

"And it looks as if they're still holding out." Vlan gestured at the smoking citadel. "I think we should hurry." He turned to the force at his back. "Forward the Tree! Time to take back our own!"

"Forward the Tree!" the roar came back to him. "Forward the Flame!"

"Hammer those Kranolta bastards into atul food!" T'Leen Targ howled, waving his ax overhead.

"Forward the Tree! Forward the Flame!"