Chapter 32: Chapter 9.4: Lora

      Lora dreamed of Tnacia Prime, its ash winds left a distinguishable after taste that could never be forgotten. The scorching ground was soaked with an acidic rain that left it muddy and red. Bone fields littered the earth from horizon to horizon. Lightning storms were far too common, generated by static electric build up from thousands of void ships entering and exiting the atmosphere, and orbital weapons discharge.

      Her teeth shook in her gums, as distant artillery sent a constant stream of shockwaves in all directions. The very tectonic plates had been destabilized, causing ancient fault lines to quake with renewed distress. 

      From deep below to the skies above, the world was shaking, and the war was still far from over. There was still so much more misery to go around, and the regiment had yet to storm the trench works fifty miles ahead. New waves of sorry recruits had just landed, and command already had their body bags in order. Lora looked out into the bloody red haze, at the endless miasma of death spasms produced by an endless war. 

      Few cities remained of any substance, but what ones remained had become something nightmarish in nature. Like the one in the distance. It had thick walls curtained by energy fields that bore the weight of suns, and before them were decrepit trench yards decorated with barbed wire and razor traps. Behind those walls buildings were refashioned into defensive placements, its original inhabitants forced into work camps for war production or slave labor. To be a city on Tnacia Prime, was to be a factory of death with seemingly endless abundance of blood to spend.

      Lora had forgotten the name of the city. She must’ve remembered it once before, perhaps before the dream had been scared into her psyche, but for now it simply echoed the name ‘murder’. The road to it was pulverized into mud, meat, and bone from a hundred days of bombardment. Soon the guns would cease, allowing the conscripts to march followed alongside the tracts of armored vehicles. 

      If the soldiery looked dour, the vehicles looked even worse. Originally, the Tyrian Collectives had shown off several advanced forms of vehicle’s. Anti-gravity suspension propelled elegant looking tanks across the withered war-zone. Each chassis brought advanced ordnance, artificially guided missiles, or radiation weapons to bear. Those were long gone, eroded by time and the cruelty of war. Now the Tyrian Collectives relied heavily on blocky simplistic designs, with thick metal treads and multiple heavy caliber machine guns. The Achille’s pattern tank was by far the most common now, each carrying a thick barreled thunder cannon and multiple bulky machine guns. Slabs of armor decorated each tank, yet Lora had seen how quickly they burst into flame once subject to heavy fire.

      The collection of armor was supposed to inspire the common soldier, or at the very least offer some kind of support. Instead it only made things worse. It made all of them feel like they were in a vast target zone, the build up of troops and equipment had been extraordinarily dangerous in the past. In a way, if a nuclear arsenal was used on them it would be a small mercy. 

      It would take them a day to reach the walls, and after that Lora doubted they would survive to the end of the week. She looked over to one of the young marksman still alive in her unit. Flottenhast was known for its miners, but there were a few that managed a higher acumen. Lora had forgotten the girls name, it was something that she truly regretted. The girl was young, spry, and awfully annoying. She was also one of the few not subject to genetic improvement, and yet still survive. At this point, few unaltered human’s remained due to the constant radiation. The girl wouldn’t stop muttering to herself, and cowering against the shadows. Clearly, she wasn’t meant for this. None of them were, but this girl especially. 

      Lora got the impression she was of the aristocracy, or perhaps came from an educated family. Either way, she had perfect vision, and was excellent with a firearm. Lora looked down at her, and wondered if there was any chance for her own survival. 

      The hours glided by as she dreamt, until the moment before the attack was supposed to begin. Dark shapes appeared over the horizon; knowing what was coming, Lora clenched her fists. Their were rumors of an undefeated regiment garrisoning the distant city, one made up of half dead warriors kept alive through some form of mechanical sorcery. Some even claimed they were not human, but an alien species that had found themselves allied with the Empire of Sihnon Ariel. 

      The people of Flottenhast had no idea what they were officially called, so instead they gave them a name that only they would recognize. It was an old name that brought memories of dark arts and nefarious sorcery, a name that spawned nightmares to children. 

      “Druids,” Lora found the word slip from her dried lips. She swallowed as the long silhouette of nameless souls began growing larger. Artillery shells sent hurling toward the enemy advance bounced above them, as if hitting an invisible wall, only to be cast back in another direction. “Fix bayonets!” Lora cried, knowing full well there was no way to kill them from a distance. These things had to be killed up close.

      She looked back at the girl next to her, and froze. The girls eyes were gone, her hair was rotten, and her bones deteriorated with the same shade of red as the mud at her feet. 

      Seeing this, Lora screamed herself awake.

 

      As Lora opened her eyes, she could still remember the taste of ash in her throat. The subtle pulse of life support systems helped her slow her breath, and calm her nerves. Outside, a clean canvas of starlight reminded her that she was no longer on the hell world of Tnacia Prime. The feeling of clean linen against her bare flesh reminded her that she wasn’t on the overcrowded star port above it either. 

      Slowly got up from the mattress, her augmented body already overcame the alcohol in her system. Lora was thankful she didn’t even have to suffer from hangovers. It also gave her perfect clarity, so she couldn’t forget anything that happened last night, even if she wanted to. 

      The man sharing her bed groaned as she stirred. The pilot slowly leaned forward, and shot her a pleasant smile. Looking at him, Lora was reminded of suave explorers from fantasy vids. All he lacked was a mustache, or spiked hair and an eyepatch, and he could pull off the lone wanderer routine. Lora was thankful that below the sheets, he wasn’t all bravado and platitudes. 

      Reward took a moment to admire the view, “That’s an interesting tattoo.”  

      He was refering to the laurel of motherhood. The tattoo was clearly visible just underneath Lora’s navel, nestled against her lower abdomen inches above her genitals. The S’Hykri warlord she had sold herself to, in order to pay for her regiments food, gave it to her upon signing the mating contract. 

      The tattoo looked like a pair of moth wings, or what passed for a moth on S’Hykri, with a heart at the center and a pair of twin curled flames for eyes. Apparently, it was a custom for S’Hykri mothers to receive the tattoo upon mating with a warlord or chief. Lora didn’t protest to it, in fact it seemed just like any other kind of scar she carried.

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      “Thanks I guess,” Lora sighed. Her hand brushed up against the mark self-consciously. Of all the scars decorating her body, that one she regretted the least.

      “You look good?” Reward tried to change the subject.

      “Thanks, that’s what ever girl likes to hear,” Lora mocked him. She then got up and wandered across the room. The man’s eyes never left her succulent curves, or soft breasts for that matter. It made her feel good to know that men still craved her flesh. After her bodies modifications, some men found her size and strength intimidating. It made it difficult to approach some people, other than S’Hykri warlords who coveted strength above all else. 

      “I hope I was able to please, I imagine it’s difficult to compete with some S’Hykri’s…girth.” It was meant to be a jest, judging by his voice, but Lora couldn’t help but roll her eyes at the suggestion. She was impressed he recognized the mark to by of S’Hyrki origin though.

      “Believe it or not, they’re not that impressive. I’m just surprised who know where the tattoo came from.” Lora bent over in front of the viewport to pick up her robe. She had yet to find one that could cover her full stature, and had endeavored to learn how to weave one of her own. The lack of materials had made that challenge difficult. Her rounded cheeks poked out from under the elegant garb, and her thick back stretched the material to its limit. 

      “That’s a surprise to hear,” Reward sat up on the mattress. “Although I’m more curious about where all those other marks came from?”

      “You have a problem with them?” Lora asked. She was still facing the viewport, letting the starlight bathe her rough skin. Her red hair was a tangled mess, and she couldn’t wait to take a long shower. 

      “Absolutely not! Each of them must tell a story, and I’m a man who loves stories.” Reward hopped up onto the floor. His impressive manhood caught Lora’s eye for a split second. She wondered if it would be hard to goad him into a shower with her. That was assuming they would both fit in the same shower stall to begin with.

      “They all tell the same story actually. The same terrible story…” Her voice drifted.

      Reward’s feet shuffled to where his own clothes were piled up in the corner of the room. He picked up his jumpsuit and checked his personal tablet. 

      There was a short pause before he spoke. 

      “I understand,” gone was his whimsical tone, it was replaced by a much more sour voice. Lora got the distinct impression that she was not the only one wishing to leave behind bad memories. 

      “Anything interesting going on?” Lora watched him carefully.

      Reward rubbed his eyes before recovering from whatever demons were chasing him. He tried to recover his whimsical demeanor, “Not much, but after last night I’m ready to take on an entire armada of pirates.”

      Lora smiled at that.

      “Hold on,” Reward noticed something, “That’s weird?”

      “Anything I should know?” If it was anything security related, it was her job to know. Even naked, and eager to relieve herself, Lora felt ashamed for letting her duties slip.

      “Not sure, there’s some kind of security alert coming from the hibernation pods?” Reward entered a series of commands on the terminal. “And it looks like I’m already needed in the hanger. I guess I’ll have to shower later.”

      “Shame,” Lora looked over to the empty stall. Before she could walk over to dial it on, she froze. “Wait did he say hibernation pods?”  

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