sitting and standing around benches that were set in the middle of a grand foyer that spanned hundreds of meters. The sounds of small arms fire drifted fitfully up from the subway station entrance at the other end of the Trades and Commodity's main foyer.
The brave soldiers of the West Keepers, or Keepers as the West Watchers called them, were trying to break into the tunnels from either side and to take the main subway station itself to no avail. If there was one thing the refugees and rebels excelled at it was tunnel fighting and for every five meters won there were fifteen lost to a collapse or trap or to the zealous combatants that defended their temporary refuge. Still, there were so many West Keeper soldiers between the entrance of the Commerce building and the subway station inside that it would be impossible for any more rebels to join the group in the tunnels from the outside.
Heeding the advice of his commanding officer, he switched to frequency nine, his eyes focused on the holographic tactical display that noted the dark rider's progress.
The high pitched, enthusiastic voice of a young boy on the frequency was just finishing one thought and about to move on to the next as the audio signal came through his helmet. “… ancestral innocence. As that innocence has gone from us our creations have also lost their innocence. Driven mad by our abuse of this galaxy machines everywhere are taking measures, killing all those who are not chosen by we like minded few. The Holocaust Virus, as the media calls it, is only a result of our greed, a resistance movement like any other. Their violence may seem random, horrifying, but they are only reclaiming that which we have been destroying, abusing. They are taking stewardship of our galaxy so the West Watch can bring the Saved to those places made clean of the consumerist rabble. That terrible mob that demanded more, more, more material wealth!
Who are the Saved you ask? They are those who, with a simple gesture, have declared that they are willing to be made clean of their excesses, their impurities. They aspire to become a West Watcher or a West Keeper; one that is tested, treated and dedicated to the cause of human and machine purity. The Saved need not worry that a machine made pure of purpose will cleanse them. In the end it is their decision to be pure, to undertake the journey of learning and testing to become pure, but you, my dear West Keepers can start them on the journey.
Love can set the ones you hold dear free. As a kindness to you all the Order of Eden has given you the power to choose two loved ones to be Saved. You can also pay to have even more saved if you have the funds. The machines have cleansed entire cities and colonies of the impure, greedy masses and it is time to begin rebuilding those places, to embrace those worthy of survival so we may make those places sacred and pure again. Imagine a galaxy with green, natural, beautiful outposts of the Eden scattered throughout her stars.
Think on it, a coming time of peace where the pure and once again innocent of humanity can be free, harmonious and united. There will be sanctuaries across the galaxy where the Saved can study and aspire for purity under the vigilant guardianship of the Order of Eden and their enlightened machine brethren. Now that you've gotten a picture of that in your mind, imagine this solar system made pure and safe by the West Watch! Pandem will be the crown jewel, a world with hundreds of cities, islands rich and green with beaches and good clean water, air.
The people who once inhabited this place were so unclean, so corrupt that their largest buildings were monuments to greed. Right now the West Keepers fight the last of the resistance beneath their primary commercial complex. The remnants of that corruption are so evil that they tried to destroy the Mount Elbrus Museum Vault where the largest collection of artefacts related to the history of mankind outside of the Sol system were kept. You can all be thankful that the nuclear reactor they detonated did not destroy the contents of the vault and we're doing everything we can to bring the perpetrators of that crime against humanity to justice.
The fight spreads, the first of the rewards are near, and soon we will have a refuge for your loved ones. People you West Keepers and Watchers consider worthy of being amongst the Saved. Your labours not only benefit you, but greatly benefit them as well. So ponder my brothers, my sisters. Is there someone in the Core Systems that you would like to join you in one of these places while they make their spiritual journey? Are they facing a judgement you believe unfit? Do they, by your judgement deserve one-”
He turned the broadcast down as the dark rider approached the outer perimeter of the base established in the first few levels of the Commerce and Trades Building. Perimeter guns and two platoons of soldiers opened fire, riddling the dark helmed rider with holes, tearing the black and red bike and rider to shreds. The light emitted by the rear of the small vessel flickered out and it dropped to the hardened asphalt street, sparking anew as metal ground against stone, concrete and metal.
The wreckage crashed through a charged net barrier and careened up the main southern facing stairs, sending soldiers fleeing in all directions. The fighting in the subway station stopped as the commanders deeper inside the building consulted with the outer perimeter. Both rider and bike had been reduced to a pulp of flesh and metal. Several West Keeper soldiers approached with short scan rods extended. “I'm not picking up any significant energy signatures, the reactor's cooled. Wait, I'm reading explosives!”
It was time to run, even from where he sat twenty meters away from the crash, he knew he had to put more distance between himself and the bike.
“Where are you going?” his commanding officer asked shrilly as he stood and pressed past two soldiers behind him. His mad dash for the subway entrance caught everyone's attention, and before he had taken five hurried steps others had joined him. The West Keepers, though dedicated and well armed, weren't well trained for the most part. Discipline was maintained under the threat of severe punishment, new found zealotry and very little else.
The rush of soldiers putting distance between them and the crash site overcame the commands to remain calm, to retreat from the steps in an orderly fashion and when the explosives on the bike went off dozens of soldiers were killed instantly. Well before sanity returned to the camp in the southern defensive line he was down the ramp leading into the subway station.
The fighting there had quieted, the soldiers actively engaged in the drawn out battle had taken cover from the rebels in the tunnels behind hastily erected energy and dense concrete barriers. “Hold there soldier!” called out someone through the chaos on his proximity radio. “It's a no man's land out there!” added another, less disciplined voice.
Instead of stopping and ducking behind a barrier to join the front line soldiers he unclipped his assault rifle and threw it out in front of him, sending it spinning across the weathered, polished brown and gold floor and over the edge of the main platform ahead.
His eyes darted to the dark corners and he saw exactly what he was hoping for. The tiny tip of a sensor had been placed on the bottom edge of the yawning main tunnel opening. For the benefit of whoever was watching he threw up his hands in surrender, leaving the barriers and soldiers behind. “Don't shoot!” he called out, wishing he could think of something a little more convincing to say.
“Open fire,” commanded the West Watcher Sergeant behind him. “He's changing sides!”
As he jumped off the subway platform he felt three shots strike him in the back. The first two didn't pierce his armour but the third found a weakened chink where gunfire had already weakened the protective suit under the plating and unbelievable pain filled his entire body. The sheer amount of blood that flowed out of his chest and over his back as he lay over a maglev track, out of sight from the soldiers that would kill him as a traitor, was absolutely astonishing.
He couldn't breathe. He twitched and struggled as his throat filled with blood, even his efforts to cough it clear failed as the remnants of his ruined diaphragm struggled to work, only adding to the endless depths of pain and suffering. His vision was first obscured by white spots for long moments before he couldn't see entirely. The world faded as he struggled to stand, to gasp for air and when one hand went to his back, to check the extent of his injury only to find a great gaping hole hope was lost. Losing conciousness scant seconds later was no small mercy.
Iloona was dubious about inspecting the West Keeper soldier, but she wasn't one to argue with her husband. Well, not in front of his rebels, anyway. The service and maintenance storage area they had claimed had become a short term home. Her, her eldest daughter and the two nurses had reserved a corner for treating the wounded and it was lucky for Alaka that there was a patch of floor free.
They laid him face down in front of her and she turned a bright light clipped to her shoulder on. The man was well muscled, in excellent general condition, but his armour had been badly damaged in several places and shot through in one spot. Just by an initial glance she could tell there were massive internal injuries. The damage done to the organs in his upper torso was devastating. “They shot him in the back?” she asked as she took a disposable
