The Siege Against Tolkeen

Chapter Forty-Five

The monstrous, shambling creature lurched towards the HFA commandoes, wickedly sharp claws and fangs emerging from the hairy, flabby mass. There was several bursts of laser fire, piercing the monster's scabrous hide and splattering thick black blood on the walls and floor. The beast fell to the floor, wailing pitiably.

"Watch your backs," ordered Jack Perrin, visibly shaken by the attack. Ever since entering the pyramid, the squad had been under constant assault by men, monsters, and constructs of magic. Time was clearly running out, and the dragon had yet to show his face. All around the pyramid, reality was breaking apart as the spell reached conclusion. Stone walls ran and melted like wax, the laws of physics and geometry became irrelevant one by one, and the horrific mental screams of the trapped alien intelligence sang within everyone's minds. It was easy to lose track of one's sanity in such a place under such conditions.

The squad advanced slowly through the darkened tunnels of the pyramid, weapons ready. At long last, they came upon a massive central chamber. There, the greatest sorcerers of Tolkeen sat in gold-encrusted thrones, chanting and concentrating as they channeled cosmic amounts of power through themselves and through the pyramid. It was clear that the strain upon them was immense. Veins stood out clearly upon their foreheads, their very breath was tinged with blue-red magical energy, and every few moments one of them would cough up a little blood or be a little burned by some little flare of power. They stiffened as Perrin and his commandoes walked in, clearly frightened by the intruders but unwilling to break the spell. As long as they kept the spell going, there was at least the chance that they would be saved by Shaard. If they failed, they were doomed. So, they kept on chanting, even as the HFA commandoes leveled their guns at the magi.

"Stop!" yelled Perrin to his own men. "I've got something to say." He turned to address the sorcerers, shielding his eyes against the blinding energy that was enveloping them. "I want to get this out of the way first. I think that you are a pack of rat bastards, who commune with evil gods and kill wantonly. I think that you and your treacherous kind are one of the chief reasons why our world's so screwed up, and I will cheer when you're ground back into the dust like the filth you are. But I also think that all the innocent people in Tolkeen shouldn't suffer just because their leaders didn't have the sense not to play with demons. So I'm here to cut a deal. All the energy that you're channeling... I want you to channel it in a different direction. I want you to channel it into Tolkeen itself. Open the rift-gates, and teleport the residential sectors of Grand Alamar and any other nearby towns to Lazlo. Tough job, I know, but you've clearly got enough energy to do it. I used to know a guy on the RCSG, and he said that mass teleportations like that aren't too hard if you're on a ley line nexus."

"We will lose the war if we do as you say," said one of the Lizard Mages, its voice speaking directly inside Perrin's brain.

"You're gonna lose the damn war anyway!" shouted Perrin, trying to make his voice heard over the din of crackling energy. "Even if you do drop the big one on Chi-Town, it'll still be hours before the news gets to the troops up here! In those hours, they will destroy this city and kill everyone in it! Do you want that?!"

The sorcerers took a moment to mentally commune with another. "We shall do as you say," said the Lizard Mage. "But only if you protect us from Shaard. He is what you humans call a zealot. The death of Tolkeen matters little to him, as long as the Coalition is also destroyed.""Will do." Jack motioned to several of the HFA commandoes. "You guard these guys with your lives!" he ordered. "But if they try any monkey business, gun them down. Got it? Good. Everyone else, come with me. We've got an appointment with Shaard himself."


"Die!" screamed the alien intelligence, smashing through the stone walls of Shaard's inner sanctum like they were made of kindling. The transition to its true form was nearly complete now. The substance which the monster's soul was made of, a substance akin to rotten ectoplasm, was tearing its way out of the comparatively frail body which it was encased in. The gooey, crawling new flesh was working its way into every crevice of the armor, so as not to lose the protection of the star-forged steel. The rune sword which the monstrosity used plunged deep into the dragon, leaving a trail of white-hot energy in its wake. The wyrm retaliated with its razor-sharp claws and unbearably cold breath, and the battle of the titans began.

The alien intelligence was never quite as powerful as its kin were, and it was badly distracted by its reversion to its true form and the screams of its brother. Shaard, on the other hand, was an experienced warrior who had been prepared for such an assault. The battle was going well for the dragon. The armor of the alien intelligence was nearly torn to bits after only a few minutes of fighting. With a sudden gesture, Shaard invoked iron chains to bind the entity in order to administer a crippling blow. However, in the split-second after raising his claw, the dragon happened to glimpse some of the crystal balls lying on a nearby table. The rift-gates were open, and refugees were pouring through, escaping from the city. Entire blocks of the residential district were disappearing, drawn away by sudden rifts.

"No!" screamed Shaard. "I am betrayed!" Suddenly, a searing burst of plasma blasted the dragon in his back. The dragon turned, to see Jack Perrin standing in the doorway, the HFA elite streaming in.

"Worse than that, ugly," growled Perrin. "You're dead."

"Take care of this!" barked the dragon, as the beast dove towards a locked chest on the other side of the room. Without warning, a volley of high-intensity laser beams shot out of the shadows, blasting one unfortunate gunman's head clean off of his shoulders. The commandoes turned, to see a lithe humanoid figure dressed in jet-black armor.

"Prepare for your doom," said the killer, in a voice like poisoned butter. "I am Sunaj, and it is my happy task to end your lives."

"You'll haveta wait in line like everyone else," replied Possman, as the CS Ranger let loose a volley of energy rifle fire. With inhuman grace, the assassin leapt over the fire, landing clear on the other side of the room. Donald Hartman, attempted to grab the killer, only to have his foe turn to smoke, slip through his SAMAS suit's fingers, and rematerialize behind him. Sonja tried to intervene, and caught a boot in the face for her troubles.

As the fight went on, Perrin raised his plasma rifle. He got a clean shot ready, only to suddenly have the rifle knocked out of his hands. He turned, instinctively drawing his pistol to kill whatever was opposing him. The pistol clattered out of nerveless fingers as he saw his dead wife standing before him.

"E-Elizabeth...?" he asked plaintively, his already overtaxed mind now on the verge of falling apart. "Y-you can't..."

"I am," she said seductively, wrapping her arms around him and hungrily drawing her body towards his. "When I was hurt in the crash, Shaard saved me. He restored my life. You can't kill him, darling. If he dies, I'll die along with him. You don't want that, do you?

"Perrin!" yelled Possman, as the ranger hurled himself out of the way of a laser blast. "Get your ass over here! This guy's killing us!"

"No, no... this isn't right. You're dead, and death is forever."

"The only thing that's forever is magic. Shaard has shown me the way. Oh, if only you could stop fighting long enough to see that!" Elizabeth threw herself against Perrin's body, kissing him tenderly yet with great passion. For a moment, Perrin gave in, feeling the warmth of his wife's mouth against his and enjoying the sensation of love, a sensation he hadn't felt for entirely too long. He was only snapped out of it by the realization that his lover's teeth were beginning to elongate into fangs.

Snapping out of the trance, Perrin threw himself backwards, sprawling out onto the floor. The creature that had been his wife suddenly changed, growing fur, fangs, and claws. The horrific beast leapt atop of the pilot, clawing and scratching at him. Perrin felt the monster's talons rending his armor even as the voice of his wife whispered for him to come away, to feel peace after a lifetime of war. With one hand, Jack struggled to keep the creature's wide, fang-filled mouth away from his unprotected face. With the other, he groped on the floor for his lost pistol. His eager hands finally latched onto the gun, which he drew up into the she-beast's stomach and fired. For a moment, the monster reverted to its human form, allowing Jack to watch his wife fall apart. When the dazed soldier stood again, he was covered in its/her blood.

"You're dead, you son of a bitch," Perrin spat, lunging at Shaard as the great wyrm rummaged through its magical treasures.

The Sunaj assassin had by this point managed to take out most of the HFA commandoes. Their corpses lay scattered about the room. He was now fighting with Sonja. The two warriors battled with superhuman speed and strength, leaping around the room at a pace almost too fast for a normal human to see. Although Sonja was chemically augmented, and a skilled warrior, even she was no match for the dreaded Sunaj. She let down her guard for a fraction of a second, and an instant later her right arm went sailing across the room. The assassin raised his blade to deliver the fatal blow, only to be tackled by Possman.

The two wrestled around on the floor for a moment. The assassin wound up on top, his knife pressed against the ranger's exposed throat. "Any last words?" the Sunaj asked.

"Yeah. Look behind you."

The Sunaj began to turn, only to find Hartman's armored gauntlet around its neck. Before the killer could turn to smoke again, Hartman squeezed, snapping the assassin's neck like a flimsy piece of kindling.

"I have it!" cried Shaard, holding aloft a golden scepter inlaid with crystals and ivory with one claw while it held the frenzied Perrin at bay with another. "The traitors didn't realize that their life forces had been bound to me!" The scepter began to glow and shimmer with power. Above, in the central chamber, the high sorcerers of Tolkeen each fell dead, drained of life in an instant by the talismans they wore, talismans which had been given to them by Shaard. Their channeling abilities were concentrated into the scepter, and the scepter was controlled by the dragon. On the crystal balls, the great wyrm saw that the city was no longer teleporting away from him. Wisps of ectoplasm began to emerge from the cracks in the walls.

"Dammit!" said Perrin. "Everyone get the hell out of here! I think this place is about to blow up or something!"

"What about you?" yelled Hartman, as he pulled the injured Sonja and a wounded HFA member through the doorway.

"I'm stopping Shaard."

"All by yourself?! He'll kill you!"

"Maybe so. Just get everyone else the hell out've here. I'm going down fighting."

The power armor commando nodded, then retreated through the doorway with the remaining HFA members. The only ones left in the room now were Perrin, Shaard, and the alien intelligence which was rapidly breaking free of its chains. Thick gobs of ectoplasm emerged from the floor like droplets inside a lava lamp, rising, falling, and constantly changing their shapes. Perrin charged the dragon again, only to be swatted away like a fly.

"Think what you're doing, you bastard!" shouted Perrin, scraping himself off of the floor. "You're about to kill millions of innocent people? Doesn't that mean anything to you?!"

"The gardener must trim the weeds from his flowerbed, must he not?" asked Shaard, as he directed bolts of pure force through the scepter into the struggling alien intelligence. "Only the creatures of magick can restore this shattered land, and we can only do it if weeds such as your Coalition are removed. We are humanity's last chance for salvation, and the only way that humankind shall ever regain its proper place in the megaverse!"

"Let me guess," growled Perrin, grabbing a fresh plasma rifle up from the ground. "Our proper place as your servants? Our proper place as your worshippers?"

The ice dragon seemed to smile. "At last, a human who seems to understand the way that the world must work. Such a pity that you insist on fighting that understanding."

"Yeah, well we lesser races are funny that way." Perrin raised the plasma rifle to fire, prompting a chilling laugh from the dragon.

"The power of the nexus, collected and purified in the pyramid, and distilled through the veins of my dead comrades, is flowing through this scepter and into me," said Shaard. "I have cosmic power at my disposal. And you think that your puny pop-gun is going to pierce my scales?"

Perrin fired. The Naruni plasma shells sailed through the air, smashing into the scepter and knocking it out of the dragon's claws and across the room. The wyrm, the dark god, and the man all simultaneously dove for the artifact. As luck had it, Perrin's hand was the first to close around the mystic device.

Instantly, he felt pure power running through him, like a jolt of lightning up his spine. The scepter was unbelievably hot to the touch, melting the already battered armored gauntlet which held it, as well as the hand inside. Perrin didn't notice much, caught up as he was in the thrill of the magic. For the first time, he understood what exactly it was that made people covet the power of sorcery.

"The scepter's been set to channel the energy into the spell no matter who controls it," snarled the dragon. "The spell is still in motion!"

"Maybe so. I'll handle that in a moment. Right now, I want both of you to finish what the other sorcerers had started. Open the Tolkeen D-Gates, and teleport Tolkeen's residential sectors to Lazlo. Now."

"You realize what will happen if you fire that thing," growled Shaard, as the dragon began manipulating the plentiful ambient energy. "You'll burn yourself out. Just holding that thing is tearing you apart. Using it will kill you."

"Yeah, but you two would both go down, too. Sounds like a fair enough tradeoff."

The dragon frowned, and reluctantly began channeling energy along with the alien intelligence. On the crystal balls and magic mirrors strewn across the room, Perrin watched, as Tolkeen and its provinces slowly began to vanish. Buildings disappeared one at a time, and crowds of people surged through the open D- Gates. After a few moments, the residential sectors had been practically deserted. However, the scrying devices suddenly became clouded and distorted by static. The images displayed on them faded away, yielding to mundane reflections displayed in the polished glass.

"What have you done now, Shaard?!" barked Perrin. "Why aren't those things working?"

"We must be out of range," replied the dragon, chuckling malevolently under his breath.

"Out of range? But that would mean... oh no. Oh crap."


The few survivors of the HFA retreated down the corridor, weapons blazing behind them. Most of the commandoes were badly wounded, and had to be helped along by their allies. The only thing that kept some of the demoralized soldiers going was the knowledge that they were close to the exit, close to escaping from this surreal nightmare. Hartman expended the last of his armor's ammunition in dispatching a bizarre shambling creature, then kicked open the door. He almost made the mistake of stepping outside without looking, and that mistake would have cost him his life.

From their point of view by the open doorway, the HFA soldiers could see the Chi-Town metropolis about 100 feet beneath them. The Burbs were on fire, as looters, rioters, and demons took to the streets in a suicidal frenzy. Military transports were streaming out of the city itself like rats out of a sinking ship, speeding away from the throne of the Coalition States at the greatest velocity their engines would allow. Although artillery, flying power armor, and attack planes were all bombarding the pyramid, their efforts did not seem to be doing any good.

"This isn't going well at all," muttered Possman angrily, as the ranger took a small grappling hook and cable out of his backpack. "I sure as hell hope that Jack knows what he's doing in there."

Next Chapter


By David Haendler.

Copyright © 1996, 1997, 1998 David Haendler. All Rights Reserved.

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