Different Paths (37 page)

Aeneas had been right about anger clouding the
judgment during battle and it almost always caused target fixation. The
situation when the attacker is so engrossed on their target that they are
completely unaware of their surroundings. It happened an untold number of times
in battle, causing pilots to fly into mountains or soldiers to fall off a
cliff.

Tiberius had been so obsessed in his attack on the
President that he didn’t see Iaido move against him. That was until the bounty
hunter’s energy blade passed right through the young Praetorian’s gut, cutting
him in two.

Aeneas just shook his head at the death of his
young protégé. “Were we ever that impulsive?”

“No, but then we were surrounded by good,
levelheaded people.”

Iaido turned his back on his brother, set his twin
katanas down and grabbed the President by the collar of his fine silk suit with
one hand. Lifting him to eye level, he said loudly, “Listen here General, your
betters are going to have a conversation. It’s a family thing. I would
appreciate it if you do not interrupt us again.”

Surreptitiously, Iaido passed the shield generator
armband to the General and saw him nod ever so slightly.

Turning back to his brother’s clone, Iaido picked
up his blades and stepped into the open area of the auditorium. “Well brother,
it’s between you and me.”

Aeneas calmly circled to the left. “Only until
reinforcements arrive, I have a whole detachment down the hall.”

“They won’t make it or at least not in time to
save you. I have a highly motivated and very dangerous Marine blocking the only
entrance to this room.”

About that time they both heard faint echoes of
explosions from the foyer.

Aeneas grinned. “He won’t be able to hold the door
for long. He is outnumbered and outclassed.”

Iaido shook his head. “Don’t underestimate DJ. His
tenacity is legendary. As long as there is breath in him, he won’t quit.”

Aeneas attacked with a quick double slash, one
high, one low.

Iaido easily parried both.

“You trust the normal that much?”

“Of course, he’s my friend.”

Aeneas shrugged. “I will never understand you. You
always were sentimental. I told Major McDowell many times that your skills were
highly overrated.”

Iaido lowered his head ever so slightly and
grinned. “Well, this is your chance to prove it. Since you won’t give up your
desire to kill the General, you and I must fight.”

“Fine by me. I’ve always wanted to know which of
us is truly the best.”

Iaido shifted his stance until his left foot was
in front and the majority of his weight was on his back foot. Raising the
powered energy blade in his right hand over his head, he pointed the tip of the
ancient Blade of the Elements at his opponent’s chest and said with a grin, “Come
on brother, let’s dance.”

With a nod, the Myrmidon clone attacked and the
battle of brothers began in earnest.

 *   *   *   *   *

News Anchor Jennifer Moody had often wondered if
she had messed up by choosing to ignore the sexual advances of her producer.
Granted, she was still on the air but she had been shunted over to covering
some of the most boring stories her producer could find. Like this piece. Yes,
she was filming the interview of the Coalition President and the notorious
thief Jagger Jax but she knew most of this would never see the light of day.
And even if it was aired, hardly anyone would watch it.

She had been contemplating calling her producer
and accepting the long standing dinner date. That was until the roof blew up
and the armored soldier fell through blasting away at the Galactic Marshals.

One thing she could say about Ryan, the young kid
that her producer had saddled her with…he was good with the camera. As soon as
the roof blew up, instead of flinching or cowering down like any sane
individual would, Ryan had his camera trained on the action.

Recovering her wits, Jennifer contacted her
producer over her cybernetic implant and shunted some of the footage to him.
Truth be told, the producer reacted poorly believing it to be some sort of
hoax. But once reports of the attack on the Hall of Justice came across the
police tac-net, he became a believer.

Preempting every channel they broadcasted on,
Jennifer Moody found herself primetime throughout the whole Coalition.

Keeping her voice low, she tried to describe what
she was witnessing. “For those of you just joining us, this unprecedented
attack on the President and his High Council happened without warning. We don’t
have a lot of information at this time but it seems that a mysterious armored
soldier and unknown number of assailants have attacked the Galactic Marshals which
were charged with protecting the President and his High Council. It is unclear
at this time if this is an assassination attempt or members of Jagger Jax’s
radical bandits trying to free the notorious thief and murderer.”

Seeing that the two swordsmen weren’t actively
engaged at the moment, Jennifer seized the opportunity and moved slightly in
front of the camera. Pointing at the podium in the background she narrated, “I
am unsure how many of members of the High Council are still alive since they
are out of sight at this time. I can still see movement back there but who it
is we don’t know.”

As the two warriors renewed their amazing sword
battle, Jennifer stepped out of view and fell silent in awe of the dazzling
display.

The criminal, who was supposedly Jagger Jax but
whose face had melted and changed shape on camera, was wielding two short
swords which sparked and crackled with blue energy. To her untrained eye, he seemed
to be the aggressor. He would viciously attack with his twin swords but the
unknown soldier would calmly block and counter.

The more she watched, the more she was convinced
that it was the Galactic Marshals which had been planning an assassination attempt
and only the timely arrival of the unknown solider saved him.

Jennifer gazed at the nearly naked form of the
defender and felt her pulse quicken at his gleaming body. Even though he was
dressed only in a form fitting black body suit, it was his steel grey eyes and
coal black goatee which ultimately captivated her attention.

Both combatants were bleeding from numerous
wounds, obviously nothing serious but enough that the two would intermittently
pause to check their status.

It was just one of the things that Jennifer found
odd.

It was obvious that they knew each other from
their earlier conversation but pausing while your opponent was tending a wound
you just gave him was…..strange.

It was during one of these lulls when a third
individual entered the combat and if she thought things were peculiar before,
Jennifer had no idea how to describe what she was about to witness.

Chapter 33

Talia and Xerxes followed in the wake of the
warriors with ease. Their path was obvious. The destruction caused by their
unconventional entry left a trail that a blind man could follow. Additionally,
every floor was nearly deserted. They had only come across four or five Terrans
during their trek through the ruined floors. Even then, they were cowering in
fear behind a desk or cabinet.

After several minutes and many floors Xerxes
paused, even though the hole in the floor indicated that Iaido and company had
gone through this level. The large black mantis seemed to sniff the air.

Talia waited and watched as Xerxes pulled forth
the little bag he always wore around his neck. He seemed torn as to which path
to follow. They both knew that if there was a hole in the floor that was the
path Iaido had taken. But something about this level seemed to call to the
Mantodea shaman.

Talia took several deep breathes and closed her
eyes.

Calling on her mystical abilities she probed her
surroundings with her mind. There was nothing at first but then she felt it…a
coldness that seeped into her soul. It was here. Opening her eyes, she nodded
to her companion and pointed down the hallway.

Xerxes dropped his pouch back to his chest and lead
the way onto the abandoned floor.

*   *   *   *   *

DJ fired off another set of flash bangs and ducked
behind his energy barricade.

As the explosions rolled once more across the
foyer, he quickly dropped the empty magazine from his railgun and slapped in a
fresh one. This was his third magazine change, which meant he had fired off at
least ten thousand rounds and still they came.

As the HUD in his HAVOC-V suit updated the ammo
count, DJ scanned all the other pertinent information available to him. His
primary concern was suit integrity; it was down to seventy-three percent. This
wasn’t good.

DJ knew from his years in the Corps, if the
integrity dropped below forty percent then he would be breathing outside air
which would be bad if the Marshals started using some sort of gas. Of course,
anything below twenty-five percent and he would start seeing a cascade of
failures throughout the armor. Plus at that point, he knew that the nannites in
the armor wouldn’t be able to repair the damage no matter how much time he gave
it.

His next concern was the energy barricade which
had already saved his life numerous times. It was also damaged due to the
constant barrage of enemy fire. Although, since it was made up entirely of
energy, it would regenerate given enough time. It was still showing eighty
percent and climbing.

Then, he looked at the body count. To the best of
his knowledge, he had only seven confirmed kills but over two-dozen maiming
injuries. One part of him hoped that he would get some help soon; he only had
one more magazine left after the one he’d just loaded. And if the Marshals kept
advancing at their current pace, they would overrun his position within five
minutes. Maybe less if his ammo ran out.

As DJ shifted back into his attack position, he
noted that the Marshals had moved forward a few more steps. He was only facing
about twenty marshals at the moment but they too were hunkered down behind
energy barricades. Unfortunately, they were slowly sliding the barriers forward
under cover fire. They had less than fifty feet to travel before they reached
him.

Unseen by anyone, DJ nodded to himself. This was
going to be a long five minutes.

*   *   *   *   *

Pax slid the Nemesis several yards to port as two
missiles screamed past. She responded with her own barrage of missiles. They
hit and the black skimmer disintegrated into a ball of flame.

Athena was in the starboard gun turret and rolled
it aft and showered the missiles with a storm of railgun fire. Enough so that
they exploded before they could circle around or crash into another nearby
building. She noted that three more skimmers had popped onto the radar. Their
IFF responders marked them as Galactic Marshals. This made a total of ten enemy
skimmers within firing range. Even though it was a waste of time to speak since
Athena was in effect talking to herself she said, “This isn’t good.”

“Your remark is both unnecessary and understated,”
replied Pax as she shunted the long range radar scans to Athena. “We have five
more ships inbound from the south-southeast at an extremely high rate of
speed.”

Athena scanned the data. Her sister was right.
They were in trouble. As she rolled the turret to port and let loose another
barrage she asked, “ETA?”

“Four minutes and thirty-seven seconds until the
bogies are in effective missile range, plus or minus twenty seconds depending
on the actions of the pilots as they approach the city limits.”

Athena muttered to no one in particular, “It’s going
to be a long five minutes.”

*   *   *   *   *

Lt. Kristopher found himself huddling behind a
metal file cabinet with what was left of Officer Buchanan on his lap.  Glancing
the ten feet which separated him from the rest of the team, he noted that they
too were hunkered down behind makeshift bunkers. Quickly checking the
statistics of his men on his HUD, he noticed that Ernspiker and Spurgeon were
completely unharmed while Hamilton and Muncy showed slight injuries. Only
Buchanan was critically injured but at least he was alive, in a drug induced
coma, but alive.

Involuntarily flinching back when another
hailstorm of blaster bolts slammed into the cabinet, Lt. Kristopher mentally
replayed the events which lead to their current situation.

The freight elevator had opened onto a small
passageway which lead off to the left and right. Downloaded blueprints showed
that this corridor ran the perimeter of the building with the exception of the
foyer and it had back entrances to all the offices on this floor, mostly
through concealed doorways. Their objective had been a storeroom in the exact
center of this floor and directly below the Grand Rotunda one floor up.

Everything was going smooth, right up to the point
they entered the storeroom.

Officer Buchanan had been on point and made a
clean entry. Signaling that the area was secure, the rest of the team had filed
in. The entry area was actually a small office while the back half was filled
with boxes and crates. Buchanan was still several feet ahead of the rest of the
team and that is what damned him but saved the rest of the team. He had seen a
blinking light and moved forward, breaking the tripwire and setting off the
claymores mines.

Claymores were anti-personnel land mines which had
been around since the mid-1900s with only minor changes. It was a simple and
deadly design. Take a stable explosive compound that is a clay-like substance,
add hundreds of small metal ball bearings, apply both materials to a shaped
metal backing and add a detonator. When the bomb is tripped, the resulting
explosion expels the ball bearings in a cone like funnel at an extremely high
rate of speed. Over the years, the military had found that claymores were an
extremely effective deterrent.