by Jeep? » Sat Mar 29, 2008 10:16 pm
“Prime, tell me about this Havocon Division.”
“I told you, Dread, they were a platoon in the Vos-Tarn war.”
Dreadspawn and Jesus Prime were getting closer now. Every passing hour saw the spire of the mausoleum they were trekking towards grow higher in the sky, and they were now near enough to faintly make out the ornate bas-reliefs on its massive walls. They would be there by sunset, if sunset had any meaning in this city of eternal nuclear winter.
“No, there’s more to it. There’s got to be.”
Jesus Prime sighed, looked wistfully at the ruins around him, and sat down. He bade Dreadspawn sit as well, taking advantage of the moment’s peace they had found between skirmishes.
“It was Starscream’s fault. We were at war with Iacon centuries before. Shotmaker was ruler then, before the Republic had even appeared.”
“Shotmaker was the one who used prisoners as conscripts, right?”
“Right.”
“Is that what the Havocons were? Conscripted criminals?”
“Yes, to an extent. They were the most dangerous individuals the city had to muster. Violent criminals were not executed, they were sent to the pits to be trained, in the event of war.”
“Did it work?”
“Too well. Without the Havocons, Tarn would not have resorted to nuclear war.”
“Oh.”
“They appointed me to lead. I blame myself. I drove those men to extents to which they would never have pushed themselves. I created this monster.”
At this, Prime stood again, and without another word, began his march to the south of the city once more. Dreadspawn followed suit, his mind swimming with thoughts. On one hand, his respect for his compatriot was growing with each shred of history he learned – but on the other, his apprehension towards their mission, and their chances of completing it, were diminishing. What worried him most was Prime’s seeming fear regarding this Havocon Division, the platoon he once commanded. What kind of army inspires fear in its officers?
“What happened to them after the war?”
“The Havocons?”
“Yeah.”
“They rule this city.”
“What?”
“They rule it. They’re the only ones who live here, and they defend it fiercely. To them, the war is not over – and it has grown in scope.”
“Would they welcome you back?”
“I doubt they would know me as I am now.”
“Then what do we do?”
“We march.”
“South?”
“South.”
I REALLY don't want to know what a "cumputer" is used for. A little one-handed web surfing, perhaps?
[ Click to attempt signal recovery... ]
