Omega - Chapter 2
TOC
It was the warning chimes that woke him. That, and he was uncomfortably hot. Thorne blinked his eyes several times to see his HUD flickering, and the view beyond slightly distorted. He could smell burned electronics within his helmet and his head was pounding.
"Alert!" an androgenous voice was speaking from his earpiece. "Heat sinks overloading. Move away from heat source immediately!" Thorne realized he was lying face down in a pile of rock scree. Static flicked across the HUD once more and the image came into sharp relief. He turned on his side to see a stream of glowing molten rock running by, mere centimeters from his side. He instantly rolled away from it, feeling a sharp pain in his shoulder. He sat up, rotating the limb. It was painful but he could move.
"Internal diagnostic," he said into the helmet microphone.
"Moderate incision wound left deltoid, minor blood loss. Stimpak applied." The pain began to ebb. Thorne looked around as his headache eased. Snow was falling on the ground all around. No, not snow. White ash.
The servomotors of his power armor whirred quietly as he rose to his feet and looked up. He was standing on the rocky slopes at the base of the huge mountain. The top was shrouded in black smoke and clouds and multiple streams of lava were cascading down its sides, igniting the trees on the lower slopes. Some larger avalanches of snow and ice were rumbling down the mountainside and where snow hit molten rock clouds of steam boiled away from it. All around the ash continued to fall.
It was complete devastation.
Dragons thought Thorne. They never said anything about dragons. McCarthy had sent him down to his death. Compulsion chip or no, he was not meant to go back. There had not been a word from Zeta or McCarthy since the battle on the mountain, and the strange sense of override in his thoughts and feelings from the chip had gone. It had gone the moment the fighter on the peak had screamed at him. The scream had felt like a physical blow to his mind, sending it blank. A little like hypnosis perhaps.
What was this place? Dragons and magical warriors. It was like something out of some of the books he had grown up reading during his childhood in the vault. McCarthy had said they had been analyzing the planet for several months. He must have known about the dragons but there was something particular about the mountain that he had wanted. Thorne's mission had been to secure the mountain top with his team and place the teleporter beacon on the ground. That was all. But the minute he had landed, he had been challenged by the dragon and not long after that the robed humanoids had appeared, lashing him with fire and ice and those horrendous screams.Â
It had gone against every fiber of his being to open fire on them, but he had been compelled to, all the while riding on an unbidden wave of psychotic rage. And then that warrior had appeared from no where. Clearly, this planet's inhabitants were more capable than McCarthy's assessment.
Thorne scanned the area with his range finder and thermal imaging. The haze was thick from smoke and ash but to the north lay a large hill, with what appeared to be a structure built upon its top. He zoomed in. Yes, definitely some kind of building. He could make out walls and ramparts. A fortress then. And some very faint life signs.
He had no where else to go. His friends, if they were still alive, were captives on the mothership. He had been disarmed of his heavy weapons by the warrior on the mountain but he still had a few smaller weapons with which to defend himself. His internal computer bleeped at him, signalling the completion of the Hellfire armor's diagnostics. Minor damage and power at seventy percent.
He looked back at the burning mountain. McCarthy had planned to colonize this planet. His first act had been to destroy part of it. Thorne vowed he would see the general dead for it. Although with a host of beings both on and above the planet who would likely kill him on sight, that would prove a little difficult. He had no choice. He would throw his lot in with those on this new world.
The lone wanderer steeled himself and began to walk towards the fortress in the distance.
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He had just crossed a stone bridge over an ash-choked river when he was first challenged. In the distance a column of humanoids were streaming down from the fortress city with their families and belongings, heading north away from the mountain. He zoomed in and could see that these humanoids looked exactly like earthlings. Not humanoid. Human.Â
To the north east a small group of stragglers were making their way from an ash-blanketed farm to  join the main column of refugees. One of them, a female, noticed him and began to scream. The group stared at him and fled towards the column. Three primitively armed guards broke from the column and ran towards him, brandishing sword and shield, spear and bow and arrow.Â
"Daydra!" the first one shouted. "I told you, Dagon has returned!" The bow wielder nocked an arrow, drew and loosed. The shaft hit Thorne in the chest and bounced off harmlessly.
"Hold!" yelled Thorne through the amplified helmet speaker. "I mean no harm!" The spearman hurled his weapon. It too simply glanced off the power armor. Now the swordsman ran forward and swung his sword at Thorne's neck. Thorne simply caught the blade in his hand and squeezed and the sword shattered into pieces. The three warriors began to back away.
"I told you," repeated Thorne patiently. "I mean you no harm." But the drama had attracted further attention from the column of refugees. A company of more heavily armed warriors now approached. The lead warrior was clad in steel and furs and we wielded a giant two headed battle axe. On his head he wore a helm in the shape of a snarling wolf.
"Careful brothers," he called over his shoulder to the warriors. "This is no mere daydra!" He hefted the battle axe and adopted a fighting stance. Thorne sighed.
"Please," he began. "I don't want to hurt you." he knew it sounded cliched but he was at a little loss for words: "Take me to your leader."
"Don't listen to its lies brothers!" the lead warrior roared. Then he charged, holding the huge axe above his head. Thorne sighed again. Lightning fast he reached down to his thigh holster and drew his laser pistol. Setting it to stun he aimed it at the oncoming beserker and pulled the trigger. The red laser beam caught him in the exposed throat and he dropped to the ground, coughing violently. The other warriors all drew their weapons and began their own charges.
Shit thought Thorne. He ramped up the setting on the weapon and was just about to take aim when there came a great shout and he was hurled sideways, along with the warriors.
"FUS RO!!"
Thorne quickly rolled to his feet, pistol at the ready to meet the new threat. It was the bone-clad warrior from the mountain top. His chest plate was cracked and the white bone armor was charred in places. He had long dark hair which was graying at the temples. His helm was gone. But he still carried that formidable golden shield and sword. Now Thorne was in for a real fight.
"Put up your weapons companions!" he shouted to the warriors that were regaining their feet. The axeman was a tower of fury. "Stay your wrath, Harbinger." the warrior called to the beserker. "I will deal with this." He approached Thorne, sword and shield down but ready.
"Who are you, outworlder?" he asked. In a gesture of non-aggression, Thorne lay his pistol on the ground and then placed his hands either side of his helmet and twisted. There was a short hiss and its glowing red eyes faded as he lifted it clear. The warrior stared at Thorne's scarred, shaven, implant ridden face and skull.
"I am not your enemy, warrior." said Thorne. His translator implants were still working. "I was a slave of those who orbit, er, fly above your world." The warrior tilted his head.
"A thrall?"
"Yes, that's it. A thrall.Your shout seems to have freed me" The warrior's eyes narrowed.
"Who are those that fly above our world? How can they do this?" Thorne was aware of the warriors surrounding him again, weapons in hands.
"We came from another world in a..er.. a starship." Thorne was struggling with the words. The warrior's eyebrows raised. All very human expressions, Thorne noted.
"A starship." the warrior repeated. "From another world."
"Yes."
The warrior's eyes narrowed further.
"Why have you come here to make war on us?" Thorne took a deep breath.
"Our world, Earth, was devastated by war. Those survivors used the starship to travel from our dying planet to this world to start a new life." Thorne shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot. This was not going well.
"So now you bring your war here?" he asked, a hint of menace now in his voice. The warriors grew closer, Thorne aware of their darkening faces. The wind had picked up now, swirling the white ash around them. It was growing colder.
"Your kind has great power, outworlder." continued the warrior. "Enough to destroy this world, I have no doubt. This past year we have repeatedly avoided such fates. If you mean no harm, then how do you propose we avoid this fate?" Thorne looked directly at the warrior.
"I don't know. But I know the enemy. Perhaps together we can find a way." The warrior nodded.
"What is your name, outworlder?"
"Thorne."
"I am Maxim. Come, Thorne. We travel north." he slung the great shield over his back. "You will tell us more of this new enemy." Then he looked hard at Thorne. "But make one wrong move and I will remove your head from your shoulders. Do I make myself clear?" Thorne nodded solemnly.
"Perfectly, Maxim." Maxim returned the nod and began to walk along the cobbled path. Thorne fell in beside him and the companions behind.
At their backs, the Throat of the World continued to smoke and burn. And high above, strange lights began to descend into the darkening gloom.Â
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