Chapter 41 - Beyond the Dark Waters

The funeral rites in Brekka lasted for days.

They started sombre. Souls gathered to perform the Walk of the River Bank, with great columns of soldiers, tanks and Hunter-Killer mechs marching through the city streets, company banners fluttering in a faint breeze, uniforms crisply pressed, armour plating burnished and gleaming in the sun. Ryke walked in the middle of it, leading his old squadron again, but this time leading them in remembrance instead of fury.

There were just four other signatures that marched with him today.

Thaye wasn't the only member of HK-Rupture who hadn't walked out of the Labyrinth that day. Koral 'Hatchet' Traeder had fallen to the claws of the Crawlers. Others were out there somewhere, in the procession, or lining the streets, too badly injured to take to their machines. Qadira had a broken arm; Brigg had suffered serious burns to his back and side when one of the Goliath's coolant systems had failed. Preese, Kim, Ricardo and Scantlin carried their own scrapes, cuts and bruises, but had been deemed fit enough to join the procession if they chose.

It was not a difficult choice to make.

That first day saw the city streets thick with mourners and grateful citizens. A vast procession of armoured vehicles, militia columns, scouts and Hunter-Killers flowed gently from the gates of Stamm Basin, through the outer residential districts, and up the main thoroughfares to the great avenue leading to the Forge itself. Ryke marvelled at the forest of raised hands, fists clenched in solidarity. The faces were not sad. They looked almost... proud. Children sat on their parents shoulders; some waved. Some imitated the raised fists of their families.

For all the sorrow that this occasion carried, the people of Brekka knew that the soldiers killed in the Scraegar Labyrinth had not died in vain. They had done the impossible. They had written themselves into legends and myths; carved their own place in the memory of the planet. Enormous three dimensional displays mounted on slow-crawling Mammoths showed the faces of the lost, immortal portraits of men and women, north and south. The crowds strained for a glimpse of their loved ones, taking their last journey to the honour roll in the great hall of the Forge.

On flat-bed trucks, men and women in military garb began to stir music from wavesingers of varying sizes. They were crafted cuboids of metal and wood, with long necks and six taut strings that way across the lap of the player, and these ones were amplified by massive speaker systems, piped through cockpits and out into the streets of Brekka.

Standing amongst them, other sombre faced regimental musicians keened a melody from gleaming, high-fluted pipes. It soared out across the city, gathering ears and hearts through the streets, touching the homes of the bereaved. After several bars of the refrain, they coaxed the voices of soldiers into life.

First it was the men and women marching on foot who began to sing, marching crisply in rhythm with the music. The words rang out, strong and clear.

Come, listen, open your eyes friend
Don't be afraid of the light
I'll show you the way, to a world without end
And no souls will be lost to the night

Come, follow, let yourself be led
To a place where even gods sleep
Lay down your banners, put down your sword
Dry all the tears that you weep

He recognised the song. It had been sung in the homes of the south for two decades – a hymn for the lost. And a promise.

Ryke swallowed hard, fighting away tears that threatened to spill down his cheeks. Brekka's people added thousands of voices to the chorus, and the noise rose like the swell of a tide, the grateful thanks of a whole world echoing in the air.

Beyond the dark waters, I'll meet you
On a shore where the warriors rest
Where the currents are kind, and the suns never burn
Beyond the dark waters, I'll meet you

Beyond the dark waters, I'll meet you
Where the weary may lay down their arms
Where the lost will now find, and the lover returns
Beyond the dark waters, I'll meet you

Then he was singing too. He cleared his throat, opened his comms and the Hunter-Killer's speakers, to add his shaking voice to the thundering tribute.

For you are the martyr, the fighter no more
The sleeper who wakes to the dream
Wander and wonder, to the drinks ever-poured
May you never feel thirst by my sea

Never-more worry for souls left behind
For you cannot now be alone
Sit down and wait by the banks for a time
The River will carry them home

Beyond the dark waters, I'll meet you
On a shore where the warriors rest
Where the currents are kind, and the suns never burn
Beyond the dark waters, I'll meet you

Beyond the dark waters, I'll meet you
Where the weary may lay down their arms
Where the lost will now find, and the lover returns
Beyond the dark waters, I'll meet you

That fearsome chorus repeated again, shaking the sky. All across the comm systems people sang. Thaye's face rose in his mind and he let tears roll down his cheeks. Despite that, he somehow felt more at peace than he had for days. He sniffed; let out a shuddering breath and sang out the words one last time.

"Beyond the dark waters, I'll meet you."

*

On the third day, the funerals turned to celebration; mourning became honouring. Noise shook Brekka to its foundations and the drinks flowed. The avenue of the Forge was transformed from a grim fortress to a palace that glittered with light. Hundreds of small holographic displays had been set up, each with the name and face of a fallen soldier, from the lowliest militia trooper to the highest officers – they were equals now.

People flowed through the spaces, raising toasts, singing songs old and new, bowing to the effigies of soldiers they'd never known, but would always understand. Ryke wandered through the throng, a mix of emotions churning in his stomach as he cast his eyes over the faces, a bottle of scorch beer hanging loose between finger and thumb.

He recognised some of the images; not always the names that went with them. He knew them from the base, from the proximity, from the battles he'd fought in. Militia officers, Scout Cadre troopers and tank commanders; other Hunter-Killers. A lot of them. The survivors of HK-Rupture trailed along vaguely in his wake, save for Qadira, who was somewhere drinking her and her broken arm into a coma with other northern soldiers.

"You remember Parnell?" Brigg murmured as they passed the sergeant's marker, still walking gingerly from his burns.

"Our first mission," Ryke replied, nodding. "Not something I'm going to forget."

"Man, we were lucky to walk out of there in one piece."

"Don't I know it."

Preese put a hand on the Goliath pilot's shoulder and raised his canteen of shiner, dipping a head respectfully to Sergeant Parnell's memorial. The others drank. Another comrade honoured.

But Ryke knew the marker he was looking for. He'd been down there with Thaye. He'd been able to at least say a goodbye. The others had been robbed of that.

The serried ranks of markers had been arranged alphabetically, and by military branch, so it didn't take long to locate Thaye on the corner of the Hunter-Killer grid. Her face speared up out of a black, conical display, the trace of a smirk on the capture, her black hair swept back into a ponytail. Gleaming white letters blazed beneath.

CORPORAL THAYE 'HAVOC' YULSA
Hunter-Killer Corps, Riot Pattern Designation
HK-RUPTURE
Embraced by the River(229 – 247 P.L.)
May she find peace, where the currents are calm

"Everflowing," Kim Lassange murmured, sipping at a glass of some kind of home-brewed wine as she circled the image. "Hard to imagine that she's just... not going to be here anymore."

"She'll be here," Scantlin told her, wrapping an arm around the other pilot's shoulders. He tapped himself on the chest. "With everybody."

"Who could forget." Preese smiled thinly. "Riverlords, I mean, she was always the first into the breach. Never had a bone of fear in her body. She was damn scary, in her own way."

"I'm sure the Scraegans thought so."

Brigg sighed heavily and bowed his head to the memorial. "She was one of the best."

"I think she always will be." Ryke took a gulp from his beer and clapped Preese on the shoulder. "And you know who'd be the first person to tell us to have a drink?"

"Drown me, she's probably screaming at as from the shores right now to go have some fun."

"And we wouldn't want to disappoint."

The pilots raised their drinks to Thaye Yulsa once more, before making way for other revellers. They slipped away and Ryke chanced a glance back over his shoulder, to see two men in the crimson livery of the Rubicon soldiers pause at her memorial. They conversed, too quietly for him to hear, before one nodded and gave a respectful bow to the image of his friend. Then the man tipped a small splash of his beer out at the base of the memorial.

Her name had travelled far through the ranks today.

"Hey, way to be alive, Vannigan," called a familiar voice, yanking his attention back around.

Ryke grinned, swivelling to find Sergeant Brackenshaw propelling herself along on a set of crutches towards him. A metal lattice was fixed to the right side of her face and one eye was still bloodshot with smashed capillaries, but she didn't seem to care. With three of her soldiers in hot pursuit, the veteran scout hopped her way over to them, grinning. She almost fell forward when she tried to stop.

"Same to you, ma'am," Ryke laughed, reaching out a hand to catch her shoulder and steady her. He looked her up and down. "Everflowing, you fight one of those things with your bare hands?"

"That's the story I'm telling people." She winked with her good eye; swayed. Behind her, Corporal Hynan stifled a laugh. "Oh, drown it, Kendle!" Brackenshaw whipped one of her crutches back with surprising deftness to whack him across the shin.

"Hey-OW!" he yelped, limping back out of range. "I'm not the enemy, Sarge!"

"Count yourself lucky!"

Ryke smirked knowingly. "You been at the shiner tonight?"

"You bet the Watching Lords I have!" she retorted indignantly. "I think we earned a couple of drinks, eh?"

"I won't tell the medics if you don't."

"Knew I liked you, Vannigan."

"You're not so bad yourself, Sergeant."

"Pissing Rivers, we're not in battle anymore." Brackenshaw took one hand off her crutches long enough to stick it out towards him. "My friends call me Kaydie. Welcome to the club."

Shaking his head with a wry smile, he shook her hand. "And my friends call me Ryke."

*

The night wore on. Ryke and the others found themselves back where it all began; Stamm Basin.

The base was lit up tonight, with a handful of volunteers who'd offered to take up the guard shifts patrolling the walls, but otherwise it was surprisingly quiet. He'd gotten so used to the thunder of engines and the blast of cannons over the weeks of constant fighting, that not hearing any of it felt a little odd.

"Yeah, messes with you doesn't it," Ivy said, linking her arm through his and tucking herself against him as they walked. "Your ears just kinda get used to it, don't they?"

"Everflowing, I could get used to this," Brackenshaw crooned from further back. Despite having consumed what Ryke considered a dangerous amount of shiner, she was still gliding long on her crutches, albeit a little slower than before. Hynan and the others kept a wary eye on her, ensuring she didn't do herself any further injury.

They'd fallen in with a ragtag group of about twenty Brekkan scouts and Hunter-Killer pilots who'd partied their way across the city until they gravitated to the one place that felt like home. Night arched over them, with a glittering cloudless sky speckled with stars.

With the place essentially to themselves, they spread out onto the dust of the Stamm Basin training field. Those of a more sober disposition set off to raid the barracks in an effort to remedy that situation. The rest flopped down in the warm night air, the distant sounds of the funeral honours drifting across the city skyline.

Ivy and Ryke stayed standing a few meters from the main group, arms wrapped around each other, swaying gently on the dusty ground. She nestled her head against his chest, letting out a contented moan.

"How you doing there?" Ryke asked.

"Just glad to have you back in one piece." She exhaled deeply. "When I heard about the detonation, and Thaye, for a moment I thought..." Ivy broke off; squeezed him tight. "Thanks for not dying."

"You gave me one job to do."

"Everflowing I love you." Then she straightened up, looking at him, her lips quirking thoughtfully. "But..."

"But what?"

"Just... you know, I saw some of the after-action reports," Ivy said, curiosity creeping into her voice. "About what you found down there."

He blinked. "What do you mean?"

"Those old wrecks. The tunnel. The door." She hunched her shoulders. "Someone shut the Crawlers down there, didn't they?"

Ryke sighed. "It looked that way."

"Doesn't that bother you?"

"Well, sure it does, but whoever they were, they don't seem to be around any more. It's just us and the Scraegans."

"For now."

"For now?"

"Hey, genius, we came here in spaceships as colonists. Maybe someone else beat us to it. Maybe they could come back."

That remark put a small jolt of apprehension up his spine. He took her hands in his, resting his chin against her forehead. "Maybe. But, if they were here, wouldn't we have found something by now? That door has been down there since before humans set foot on this rock."

"We didn't find the Crawlers," she pointed out, before shaking her head in frustration. "Sorry, it's not like you could possibly know. I just... someone needs to do some digging. I just want to know where those bastards came from."

"I don't know what to tell you, Ives." Ryke shrugged awkwardly. "We may never know. We wiped most of the evidence away when we blew that place to the River. I don't think there's much left to find."

Ivy sighed; squeezed his hand. "I know."

"Besides, you think Hackley and the blackwaters aren't already all over this?"

"Oh, I'm sure they are."

"They are. So just relax." He kissed the top of her head and stepped back to look her in the eye. "Give that brain a rest. You've done enough. Without your little project none of us would be around right now to ask the questions."

"Fine, fine." Ivy nodded; patted his chest with one hand. She glanced over her shoulder to where the other members of HK-Rupture sat, conversing idly. "It's getting late. Should we...?"

"Yeah." Raking a hand through his hair, Ryke blew out his cheeks in a sigh and raised his voice. "Preese!"

"Present!" his friend raised a bottle high but didn't get up.

"Can you guys come over here for a second?"

A groan. "That an order, boss?"

Ryke rolled his eyes. "A request."

"Alright, alright." Preese scrambled unsteadily to his feet, beckoning the others to follow. "C'mon guys. Sarge has a speech all prepped."

"Maybe you can learn a thing or two," Scantlin joked, dodging away before Preese could swipe at him. They shuffled over to gather in a semi-circle around Ryke and Ivy.

"What's going on?" Brigg asked. He looked a little unsteady on his feet, but fortunately Kim had one of his arms wrapped around her shoulders to hold him in place. The young Raptor pilot, Ricardo, scrubbed a hand over his eyes and tried to look attentive.

"I know we're all having fun, and this won't take long. It's just that, before she... before we finished the op, Thaye asked me to do a little something when we got home," he told them after a moment, smiling sadly. Then he looked at Ivy. "Go ahead."

She stiffened as the eyes of the squad fixed expectantly on her. Taking a deep breath, she reached into her pack and with drew a glass, and a small canteen. Seeing her hesitate, Ryke reached forward and gave her upper arm a gentle squeeze.

"It's okay," he whispered.

She nodded, closing her eyes for a second to compose herself. Then she unscrewed the top of the canteen and poured a small measure of golden liquor into the glass. Handing him the canteen, she straightened up and raised the glass high, her eyes moving from pilot to pilot.

"I wish I'd known Thaye better," Ivy said, battling to keep her voice steady as she held her head up high. "She told me once, that there would always be a drink for me." Her voice cracked as she finished the sentence and she had to pause, trembling with her jaw locked tight. There was a faint murmur of acknowledgement from the others. Brigg's craggy features broke in a sympathetic smile; Preese swallowed down a lump in his throat.

Ivy looked at him.

Ryke nodded. It's okay.

She cleared her throat; blinked back tears. "Well, Thaye, no matter where your soul swims, I'll save a drink for you, too."

And she tipped the contents of the glass out onto the sands of Stamm Basin.

*****

Thank you for reading.

If you enjoyed this story please check out the next book in the series - HELLSKY which you can find here: 

https://www.wattpad.com/story/351414914-hellsky-hunter-killer-3

Bạn đang đọc truyện trên: AzTruyen.Top