Ablaze

Behold the steaming jungle.

Here the trees stretch almost as far as the skyscrapers in the cities of the Homebuilders. If you manage to get below the tree crowns you see that the undergrowth has taken the same monstrous proportions. Vines and shrubs cover everything, turning the forest into a treacherous spiderweb of growing life. There is a fierce struggle over the few niches in the ecological order. Those who can�t make it perishes, as feeding source for fungus and insects. Others are forced to find alternative ways, to feed of other things or beings. And over it all, the unforgiving sun and steam. At the sight of this, you can understand why the Homebuilders named this girdle of merciless life as �the Fire Ring�.

So, suddenly, a knife penetrates the green cushion. A mountaintop rises out of the jungle. Like the spire of a monumental tower it stretches towards the sky, its walls worked smooth by the brutal rain periods. The ancient mountain range that once stood here was long ago thorn down, until only this needle remained. Here and there are deep scares in the mountain, where the stone could no longer hold its own weight, and followed the rain and wind down into the green abyss.

And, if you try hard, you can see something on the mountainside.

Pale red and white gleaming in the sunshine.

The colours of the imperial army.

Hakiro clung to the face of the rock. His fingers ached, so did his arms. He must have been climbing for an hour now.

The mountain was treacherous to climb, because in spite of the sun the stone was slippery of moist. The least misstep, the least slip, meant that you lost your grip. And then there was nothing to stop your fall until you reached the foot of the mountain, where the decent became less. Hakiro was more than two hundred meters above that point.

Trembling, he looked upward. A few more meters, and he would reach a small ledge where he could stand and rest for a while. With a groan he forced his beaten hands to search for some sort of grip. According to the regulations he should be wearing battle gloves, but he had removed them after just a few minutes of climbing. They where to crude to let him trust his own grip. Besides, he doubted that regulations meant anything right now.

Slowly he started to climb again.

A trembling hand came over the ledge, found a firm grip, and then Hakiro heaved himself up onto the small plateau. It was bigger than he had hoped for, there was even enough space for him to lie down on it. Panting he fell onto his belly, lay only breathing for a while. When he had recovered somewhat he started to check that he hadn�t lost any equipment on the way. His gloves hung from his belt. Harness and shoulder plates were still there, and so were the leg plates. The assault rifle hung on his back. The ribbon marking him as a Mishiman warrior was tied around his sweating forehead.

Good, he had been trusted that equipment in the name of the Shogun, and he wouldn�t want to misuse that trust by loosing it.

He pulled out the clip from the weapon. As he suspected, it was empty. He put in a new one, and dutifully made another mark on the rifle. It was important to know how much ammo you used up, so that you didn�t hide anything away. And you should also be able to describe how you had used it.

That, Hakiro thought, he could do very well indeed.

They had been out patrolling when it happened. Akiko, their honourable leader, was explaining the situation for them while they slowly made their way through the jungle.

A number of villages in the area had been eradicated by an unknown military power. They had been completely burned to the ground. Akiko said that those bodies they had found were so severely burned that they had turned to fine ashes when touched. Those bodies that they had found. More than half the people from each village were vanished without a trace.

When hearing this, some of the men crossed themselves and murmured things about the Dark Legion. Then Akiko had laughed at them. There was no such thing as the Dark Legion, she said. The villages must have been napalm-bombed by Capitol, and the surviving villagers had fled into the jungle. They simply had no evidence that could tie it to Capitolian forces. There were no fire breathing demons out there. Still smiling, she told them what to do.

Their task was simple. They had been given a village to survey. They would do this for a week, and then return to base. If the enemy returned, they were to identify him, and then report back. Other troops where doing the same thing in other places in the area. They should not fight. Retaliation would be diplomatic, not military.

The villagers where not to be warned, so that the enemy would not suspect anything. It was a sacrifice that had to be done. After all, they where just peasants.

They had walked through the jungle talking and joking. There was no sign of enemy activity, so there was no reason to be quiet.

The first one to notice anything was Yasunari. Something smells like cadaver, he said. Nobody took much notice. Yasunari was known for his picky sense of smell.

But then the others started feeling it too. Something really smelled horrible, like hundreds of bodies were rotting around them. They were Mishiman warriors, and shouldn�t be this distracted by a mere smell, but in this stench lay something awfully unreal. Everyone was nervous and went with their weapons pointing out into the jungle.

Then it hit.

Through the foliage a great lizard-like beast crashed down among them. Yasunari and Ito were crushed under its sheer weight. With a ferocious cry it spread out a pair of leathery wings and swept away the warriors. Hakiro hit a tree, and was knocked senseless for a moment. He could hear automatic fire and panic-stricken screams.

He opened his eyes the second later, just in time to see Kano be ripped apart by the monster�s beak-like jaws. Two warriors lay on the ground, to beaten-up to be recognized. Akiko was pinned to the ground by the creature�s foot upon her chest, struggling to break free. With a shock, Hakiro realized that he was the last one left standing.

He struggled to his feet. He had lost his rifle, so he picked up his bayonet instead. With a shout he charged the monstrosity before him. It whirled around to face him, at the same time picking up Akiko, as to guard it�s pray. For a split second he met the creature�s gaze.

Eyes full of hatred and pain stared back at him.

Those eyes were too much for Hakiro. Screaming, he threw himself to the ground to take Kano�s rifle, not having to get any closer to the monster.

That was all it needed. As fast as it had came, it took of up into the air, with Akiko like a trophy in it�s claws. Hakiro could only stare in vain after it, as it flew towards the mountain, carried on clumsy wings.

No-one in the group was left. Two men had fled from the battle, but Hakiro did not know whom. Well, they were as good as dead anyway. If they did not commit suicide out of sheer shame, their lord would most certainly execute them if they ever returned to Mishiman ground. So he was all alone.

The Shogun had said, during their training, that as long as there was a possibility that he was still to be saved, one would never abandon a comrade, unless otherwise stated by the group leader. And Akiko was the group leader, so his orders and his honour demanded of him to rescue her. There was no other thinkable option. And of course, he had to admit to himself, there was more than just honour to this. Akiko was a samurai, and he just a lowly peasant, but if she had only known how much trouble he had gone through to be placed in her group! If he was condemned to be nothing more than a servant to her, he would be content with that. But he had a small hope that some day, somehow, she would look at him with different eyes.

So here he clung to the surface of this peak, with that foolish hope in his hearth. He had followed the creature up this mountain in a climb that even with proper equipment would have been risky at least. His fingers were bleeding and his arms bruised. No, not even honour would have got him this far. His mind seemed distached from his body, and ignoring the pain he rose and continued climbing.

The midday sun was high on the deep blue sky. Hakiro stood with his back to the mountain and looked out over the Fire Ring. He could see all the way to the lands of the Homebuilders. What he saw almost made him forget his current task.

The city of Hindenburg was ablaze. He could see it clearly now, the small dark patches marking the burned villages sticking out like a tongue towards the city. They had not been the goal, simply a�a practice course. It was shocking. Hindenburg, the richest city in the history of mankind, the jewel of Venus and the pride of Bauhaus, burned like a simple group of cottages. Whichever power could do such a thing would have the entire planet in its grip within a year. It was�, but, no, it did not concern him any more. He turned around and closed his eyes. They could burn the solar system to nothingness if they wanted to, it didn�t matter any more. All that mattered was Akiko. With eyes still closed he made his way upwards.

Bleeding on palms, elbows and knees Hakiro dragged himself over the edge and onto the flat mountaintop. After a few moments he gathered enough strength to raise his head and look around.

By a whim of nature the top of the mountain had been shaped into a smooth plateau almost one thousand metres over the ground. At its centre there was an irregular hole, like a cave, in the rock floor. And just in front of it, seemingly lifeless, lay Akiko.

He tried to stand up and go over to her, but his legs failed him, and he fell back on his knees. Slowly, he managed to crawl to her. The sight was horrifying. Her frail body was horribly beaten up by the beast, and at first Hakiro almost panicked, as he saw no signs of life. But then he noticed that her chest was raising and falling slowly. She was alive, but just barely.

With new hope he took her in his arms.

�Akiko.� he said. �Akiko, wake up, please!�

Slowly, slowly, she gained consciousness. Hakiro could just stare into her deep brown eyes, unable even to breath. He could feel his heart acing.

�Hold me.� she whispered.

Gently he lifted her into his lap and hugged her hard. She put her arms around his neck.

They sat like that for a long time. Long after her chest had stopped moving he sat there holding her, tears streaming down his cheeks.

And far into the distance Hindenburg burned to ashes.