A Memory – Uninvited

Rage. Blood. Death.

“I am the taker of life, I have come to reclaim what is mine,” I say. Deathly calm like the eye of the storm. The roiling rage screaming to be unleashed.

A salvo of heavy missiles tears through the docking bay doors, my Gila-class Cruiser screaming in after. The ship slams in to the wall, throwing the crew forward. I care not for anything but my mission.

Vessel secured, my strike team of 12 souls streaming down the exit ramp. “I am vengeance, I am death!”

A blood-curdling scream tears from my throat as I launch myself at the nearest defender, his woeful defense battered aside by the two-handed sword in my hand, combat drones and weapons fire screaming over my head.

The blade bites deep, separating his head from his shoulders. I move on, diving forward and to my right, rolling behind a crate. Back on my feet, the silvered blade passing through a man directly ahead of me. Pull back, step left, sword swinging, severing another’s arm. Reverse, blade up in to his gut. A manic laugh bubbling, trying to escape. I choke it back, spin on my heels, another down, a meter and a half of shivering, bloodied metal erupting from the back of his neck. Momentum carrying me forward, the body dragging my aim down. But that’s fine. His astonished gasp echoing in the sudden silence. The lifeblood from his pierced heart leaking from the wound.

I pull the sword free and look around. There is no one left alive but my own people.

We move on, splitting in to three groups. I halt just before a corner, using the tip of my sword to look around. “There’s twenty or so people, a few barricades. Demos?” I glance at the hulking Brutor at the end of the line. He grunts in acknowledgement, rifling through his pack.
I swiftly move further away from the corner, eying the large charge in his hands. He hefts, then launches the device. A yell, “Bomb!” Then a loud, violent explosion tears down the hallway. With the all clear, I step around the corner, following the path laid before me.

At last, I reach where the tracker implant guides me. And stop. With a deep breath, I hit the switch, detonating the breaching charge. Adult screaming, a baby crying. The sounds assault me, angering me. I step through the doorway and point my sword at the woman cringing there, “give me my son, and I’ll go easy on you.”

Her fear as palpable as the stench of urine. The wet patch spreading beneath her. Gently, she lays the infant on the table, turns and tries to flee through the door. A short burst of automatic fire signaling her end. I pick up the child and smile, “dearest Roland. I missed you, my sweet prince.” His wailing stopping, he coos, gurgles and smiles.

My life is almost back to normal.


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