Relias: Uprising

  Relias

  By M.J Kreyzer

  Relias

  Copyright © 2012 Mitchell R. Jones

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in retrieval system, copied in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise transmitted without written permission from the publisher. You must not circulate this book in any format.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Relias Lexicon

  Havok

  The History of Havok

  Races

  Organizations

  The United Commune

  The First Legionnaire

  Elemental

  Religions

  Major Events

  Modern Figures

  Historical Figures

  Weapons

  Science and Technology

  Cities

  Languages

  Wildlife

  General Reference

  About the Author

  Chapter One

  265, Modern Industrial Epoch

  It had been six years, and the unrelenting darkness of the ten by ten cement prison cell had become all too familiar. The darkness was palpable, like the deep, inky black of an oil slick, and weeks would pass without so much as a glimpse of sunlight.

  To Luke Semprys, these facts were trivial. Or at least that is what they had become. Every day that passed further defined his tortured existence, bleeding him of the love and compassion that he once had. For more than half a decade, the only human contact he had had was with the scientists who studied and dissected him in the lab and the Legionnaire soldiers who escorted him there. Now, with the Durant race facing extinction, his wife and son dead, and the open world being nothing more to him than a pleasant fantasy, the place in his heart that once made room for his friends and family was now nearing repletion, with what little space that remained allowing room for two people. The first, representing what little love he had left in him, was his daughter, Tess. She was his reason for living, for hanging on. Life had little consequence to Luke; the thought of his daughter being helpless and alone beneath the brutal and despotic tyranny of the Commune did. The other person, occupying a space much darker and far more malevolent, was a demonic sadist known as Vladmir Frenz. And if Luke escaped this place for anything other than protecting his daughter, it would be to rip this man’s heart out, if he had one, as well as tearing every Legionnaire soldier limb from blood-soaked limb and making it perfectly clear that evil, eventually, is met with equal and opposing consequence.

  Then it just happened, a sudden burst of chaos somewhere distant beyond the confines of his cell. Explosions, gunfire, and the screaming engines of fighter craft. He knew it was an attack on the city, but as Luke assumed that the world considered him dead, he was convinced it wasn’t for him.

  An hour passed and the noise outside only intensified. And just as Luke had settled on the fact that he wouldn’t be going anywhere, it happened.

  There was a struggle outside his door. Gunshots, shouting. One voice was cut off in mid-sentence. The other pled for mercy. There was a brutal pounding against the door. The pleas went silent.

  “Help me out here.” Came a quiet, muffled voice from the other side of the door as there was a metallic clattering against it. “You got the charges?”

  There was a deep, mischievous chuckle that answered the question, followed by a booming drub that hit the door like a deep, metal drum.

  “Back up.” Came the first voice again.

  “I was actually gonna stand right here before you told me that.” The deeper voice said amidst an immature laugh that came in reply. Their footsteps moved away from the door. Everything went silent once more.

  “Blow it!”

  A shockwave rebounded along the cell wall and caused Luke’s brain to reverberate within his skull. Nothing muffled the deafening explosion; it drove into Luke’s ears like a white-hot rusty nail and made them ring. It was the most welcoming sound he could have heard.

  The door bent and Luke heard the wheels on its sliding track crumble. The broken door groaned as the first man tried to move it. “Come on…” He coaxed it. “Can’t even… Morlo! Quit pickin’ your crack and get over here and help!”

  “Comin’, comin’, you whiny little…”

  The voice trailed off and the door budged. A white sliver of light shot across the floor, piercing the darkness and, as it did, a large set of fingers could be seen clasping the doors edges.

  “This is what you couldn’t move?” Morlo said, his voice now clearer. “You’re serious?”

  “Just another thing that makes it obvious that you were blessed with strength and nothing else.”

  Morlo laughed and pulled harder. The door groaned against its supports. With a grunt it was ripped clean and the sliver of light became a blinding, searing column. A man in a metallic armored vest and mechanical devices strapped to his flame-tattooed forearms stepped into the light. His face was hidden behind a mask a matte-grey steel skull of a wolf with glossy black lenses placed in the eye sockets. With his inky, uncaring eyes scanning the room, the man appeared more as a predator than he did an ally.

  “Luke, it’s Hendrick.” He said combing the darkness as his eyes adjusted. “I swear this cell better be yours this time.”

  There was a shuffling of thin clothing and skin rubbing against cement. Bare foot steps approached the light and stopped. With half of his scruffy, grizzled face in the light, Luke stopped and stared, the irises of his sightless eyes were blood red in color, hateful, and filled with purpose. Hendrick nodded and smiled with satisfaction. He looked back to the door. “Got ya.” Hendrick muttered to himself. He nodded towards the door as an indication for Luke to follow. “Come on, we don’t got much time so… suck me down to bloody…”

  Luke’s body came into light. A tissue thin pair of prison pants far too large for him were fastened crudely around his waist. His muscles, though well-shaped, had lost considerable mass. They drew deep, dark shadows revealing every sinewy shape on his body. Though his survival was a surprise at the severe degree of his malnourishment, it was the scars, the dense, morbid patchwork that covered his body, that drew shock. Regardless of his frail appearance, Luke stood up straight, shoulders squared and head held high, looking remarkably dignified.

  Almost as though his mask were distorting reality, Hendrick removed it to see the scars for himself. Without the mask, his goatee and crazed, wild eyes now in view, it was clear that this was, in fact, Nathan Hendrick. Hendrick snapped his fingers and pointed towards Luke while looking behind him. “Get him his stuff, will ya?”

  “Yes sir.” Came the booming voice, laced with sarcasm. Heavy footsteps approached from the outside.

  Light blocked the entrance as a heavily armored giant, a beast of a man known as Morlo Greyhorn, ducked through the doorway and entered the room with a large pack in hand and a flood light mounted on one shoulder pad. He was massive,
standing a solid ten and a half feet tall. His shoulders were as wide as Hendrick was tall, and even for his size his arms were disproportionately large. In one enormous hand he clutched a handle on a six-barreled chain gun larger than Hendrick, its weight causing even Morlo’s shoulders to sag. With the dark, cramped room illuminated, his face turned to surprise as he looked the room over. “Well this couldn’t have been fun.”

  Luke paid the comment no mind and started towards the door. He took just one step before stumbling. His hand immediately found the wall to support himself as Hendrick grabbed his other arm.

  “You gonna be able to run?” Hendrick asked while ushering Morlo over to help. “Bring him that stuff we packed up for him.”

  Morlo plunged one hand into the large pack he bore, rummaging around and removing a small plastic gel pack and a bottle of water. Luke took it gratefully and first started with the gel pack, removing the top and squeezing the contents into his mouth.

  “We thought we should water down the calorie pack a bit.” Hendrick explained, checking his watch. “Figured you wouldn’t have eaten much in the last little bit so we didn’t want the sudden influx to send you into a food coma.”

  “Happened before.” Morlo said with a rough chuckle.

  Luke waved him away and shook off Hendrick, putting a hand on one leg to give himself support. “I’ll be fine.” He said in a rough voice, taking deep, relieving swallows from the bottle of water. “Just give me something to kill with.”

  Hendrick nodded towards Morlo. “You heard ‘im.” He said as he led them all out the door.

  Luke took several steps into the glowing ocean of white outside. His legs still weak, he placed a hand on the wall to stabilize himself as he used his sense to get his bearings. The long bending hallway was lined with other cells similar to Luke’s and curved out of sight. On one side of the hallway through the transparent steel windows, the rising sun cast the city beneath an amber hue. Gunships soared through the wispy clouds, glowing lines of bullets streaked to the sky, and the streets were filled with soldiers from both sides battling fiercely against one another in a violent, chaotic struggle.

  It was a surreal and ethereal sensation. The bright light and his dizzying nausea only added to the effect. But he was free, and that sensation greatly overpowered anything else he was currently feeling. And with the sudden gift of his newfound freedom, a thousand different possibilities wedged their way into his thoughts. But after a moment of composing himself and organizing his thoughts, his first thought came to mind: kill.

  Hendrick still led the way. One thumb fidgeted with a switch connected to one of the long mechanical objects fastened to his forearms; Blazers, a type of flamethrower that Hendrick had invented with adjustable spread and intensity levels which controlled the flames which could potentially burn three times hotter than even the hottest Legionnaire flamethrower. They operated on Furo, eliminating the need for a gas tank. Luke and Morlo followed him down the hall as Hendrick spoke into his radio.

  “Here.” Morlo said as he tossed Luke an Infiltrator assault rifle. Luke caught it in his hands, checked the chamber and the clip and put its butt against his shoulder. He looked back at Morlo.

  “Was anybody able to get the rest of my things?”

  Morlo nodded, keeping an eye down the hallway and periodically checking behind them. “Vyvyr, Pontious and Trey are handling that. They were the first ones in. Probably the first ones out too.”

  “This is Razor one,” Hendrick said into his radio, looking out the window as ships blew past within feet of the outside of the building. “We’ve got VIP Mylo on crew and are moving to extraction point Eysus requesting immediate dust-off, say again, we have the VIP and need a quick pick up.”

  “Roger that, Razor One” It was deep though feminine voice. “Be advised we’ve got enemy Helios coming down on your position fast. You’ll be balls deep in Battlecraft and Blackshredders within ten minutes and... crap, Legionnaires are flooding the complex..”

  “Thanks Price. Razor One out.” Hendrick nodded towards the others and picked up his pace. “Wish we could say you were the main reason we came here.” He said as they rounded the next corner and headed up a flight of stairs. “But the Darks are taking the city and every last prisoner it’s got. The Legionnaires are putting up the fight they normally do but Sam did a good job of getting this attack down.”

  “So what’re we going to do?” Luke asked in a deep rasp.

  “After they raided the supply lockers and grabbed your stuff, Pontious, Vyvyr and Trey got picked up and are meeting up with some Dark squads to head up a second wave while me and Morlo got to come up here and get you. Dark command thought there might be other Darks up here but guess it’s reserved for high priority prisoners only.” Hendrick laughed as he pounded a fist on a door switch to open it for them to pass through. “Can’t say I’m disappointed though.”

  They came up another flight of stairs and emerged on another long hallway that, like the hall that Luke’s cell was in, ran around the outside of the massive, circular building. “You know about the new Legionnaire tech, right?” Hendrick asked Luke who shook his head. “Just checkin’. They’ve got some new toys that’ll give ya a bit of a jump.”

  “The bastards have been usin’ shit that’s almost like elemental.” Morlo butted in.

  “The Helios,” Hendrick said, gesturing towards the truly massive dark shapes that floated menacingly over the city, bright blue lasers shooting from beneath. “They’ve got these new belly mounted weapons called sweep lasers. Melt steel, armor, soldiers, it’s the ultimate anti-infantry weapon.”

  Luke frowned. They had been copying Durant abilities all right.

  “As for Furo battery tech they’ve come a long way and now have sets of power armor called Raze armor. Takes a normal guy and puts him in a suit that makes him even more powerful than a Monolith. And don’t get me started on the Forge tanks which-“

  The wall just in front of them disintegrated, sending razor sharp bits of transparent steel shrapnel screaming inwards. The explosions, gunshots, and roaring ship engines were no longer muffled by the thick steel and drowned out any other noises.

  “DAMMIT GET DOWN!” Hendrick cussed as the floor began to sag, tilting downwards towards the outside of the building giving them the dizzying reminder that they were still well over a hundred stories from the ground.

  Hendrick hurdled the entire section, landing in a squat and spinning back to check the others. Luke took one step on the floor and leapt. The floor shifted as he did. He landed on the other side and rolled, making the most out of his weakened legs. Morlo stumbled as their luck ran out.

  Beneath his incredible weight the floor collapsed. In a thunderous crumble the floor broke away. Morlo stumbled and struggled to maintain his balance, putting a hand down and sprinting up the falling slab of cement. He cast a quick glance over his shoulder towards the tawny abyss, the empty void suspended hundreds of feet in the air.

  On one side the floor broke free. Morlo cursed. He growled, gritted his teeth, and narrowed his eyes on the edge.

  Morlo tossed the chain gun onto safe ground. As he did, the floor went free.

  Morlo leapt. There was no way he could land on his feet. He stretched his hand up towards the edge and prayed for a miracle.

  The tips of his fingers barely managed to wrap around a piece of protruding rebar. Luke reached down to help him as Hendrick put his finger to his earpiece.

  “Come again…” Hendrick shouted over the noise. “We’ve got how many!”

  Morlo’s arm came up over the edge. As soon as his eyes rose above the precipice they focused hard and offensively on Hendrick. “Speaking of Forge Tanks.” He continued to claw his way up the ledge while Luke, still weak, did what he could by pulling on his armor. Morlo gave Hendrick a hard eye. “Thanks for the help, asshole.”

  “We’ve got to move now.” Hendrick said. He put a hand on Morlo’s armor and pulled him, his contributions being half-hearty but there fo
r a ‘don’t say I didn’t try’ effect. “We’ve got Legionnaires. Dozens, maybe, but probably hundreds.” He looked at Luke. “They know we’ve got you.” A Legionnaire Battlecraft transport buzzed past the gaping hole in the side of the building. They all ducked. With a renewed sense of urgency, Hendrick took the first steps down the hall. “Hurry up. The extraction is just up here.”

  They could hear shouting now. Armor rustled as soldiers hurried down the hall just around the corner from them. Hendrick adjusted the dials on his Blazers and signaled back to Morlo and Luke. Luke raised the butt of his rifle to his shoulder and kept pace, while Morlo lugged his chain gun into firing position, its incredible weight forcing his shoulders to sag and his strides to be shorter. He cracked his neck and kept a hard eye on the target.

  The sound of the armor became louder. Hendrick hugged the left wall to get a better look around the corner.

  “Eight.” Luke said, sensing the Furo signatures of the enemy soldiers. Hendrick looked back.

  “Heh, forgot you could do that.” He nodded towards Morlo to keep on that side of the hall while he moved to the opposite wall.

  They reached the corner and Hendrick got to one knee. Luke stayed back and looked down the rifle’s sights.

  The Legionnaires were right on top of them.

  Morlo’s fingers rolled across the stock of his cannon in anticipation.

  After checking back on Luke, Hendrick clutched the triggers to his Blazers, took a deep breath, and looked back to Morlo.

  Luke kept his sights where he knew head level to be, waiting for the first helmet to appear around the corner.

  “Alright big guy.” Hendrick said, shifting in place as he got into a more comfortable assault position. “Bring ‘em out.”

  There was no indication that Morlo had heard him save for his moving closer to the corner. His face was fierce, his jaw set, and his eyes made it clear he was ready to blow something apart.

  He was quick to attack. He slid into position with his cannon already aimed. Flame and deafening gunfire erupted from the end of the cannon in a column of yellow flame as the barrels spun in a blur. The men started yelling. Morlo moved back out of sight and a metallic sphere bounced off the wall and at his feet. Morlo gave the grenade a solid kick and sent it rebounding into the hallway. The resulting explosion sent cracks through the walls.