The War Cleric

We had breached the outer defenses of the city five days ago, and still the Xyphonites refused to give up. Honestly, I expected nothing more of them. On one of the main promenades leading to the city’s central square and main temple we were met by strong resistance. Near our positions, one platoon we were hoping to link up with took substantial casualties in their assault up the promenade: many of their number were lying in the street, dead, dying, or otherwise severely wounded. We rushed into cover beside destroyed Xyphonite vehicles, walls, and concrete barriers.
“Where are the mechs?! Where are the mechs, goddammit?!” demanded our squad leader, Cpt. B’Scorak.
“They’re still one minute out!” D’Dhenn yelled.
“Goddammit! D’Dhenn, use your rockets!”
“I’ve no more ammunition for that!”
“Dammit all! Gir, suppressing fire!”
“Yes!” replied Gir most enthusiastically. He placed his heavy weapon on a concrete barrier for support and slung fire down the promenade, cutting down scores of Xyphonites. “They just keep coming! Wait… new ones coming in! They’ve… dammit, they’re Special Forces!”
“Are you sure?!”
“Yes, they’ve got purple armor! And their shields are stronger than normal!”
“We need some major firepower! Oyi, get over here now!”
“Yes, sir!” said Oyi, who shuffled over to Cpt. B’Scorak.
Our commander briefly peeked out with targeting binoculars to mark a position.
“Call in Jester! Here! Now!”
“Headquarters, this is Nurian Squad! Requesting an airstrike from Jester on the following coordinates, authorization code trel-nak-vavam-zero-seven-zero-seven! How copy over?!”
“Nurian Squad, this his Headquarters,” replied the familiar voice of Headquarters’ comms officer, who seemed somewhat rushed. “Request denied. Jester is returning to base to resupply. Recommend you request for artillery. Over.”
“What in the name of God---!” uttered B’Scorak. He ripped the communications device from Oyi’s hands and placed it near his mouth. “Headquarters, this is Nurian Prime! I request immediate assistance on my position! Repeat, request immediate assistance! Hostile forces are bearing down on us and if I don’t get help right now, I will be forced to withdraw from my current position, over!”
At this time, Gir needed to reload. “Cover me, Keleon!” my big, burly squadmate said to me.
“I hear you!” I said. I leaned out and fired on the Xyphonites. Many of their dead we wearing blue or read cuirasses, while the smaller ones littered the promenade, both the ones with masks and the ones with shields. Then, some of the big armored ones, with heavy shields and cannons, appeared. “I see Tank Xyphonites! Tank Xyphonites, incoming!”
“Ugh, I wish I had some rockets right now!” complained D’Dhenn, firing with her personal defense weapon. An irradiated kinetic projectile screamed into her left shoulder, and she screamed out in agony. “Ah, fuck!”
At this time, several other squads appeared. One of these squads had a war cleric accompanying them. To distinguish his status from normal infantry, his exosuit had a lengthened tunic flowing from his waist, down to his knees, which hid his tail. He also had a large medallion with the Sigil of Erd-El, and on his helmet there were written words which said “DON’T SHOOT I’M TOO SHORT”. He was shorter than me, which indeed made at least half that statement true. He was also unarmed, carrying the Sigil, which were three concentric circles, all attached to a single pole, and it was made of wood and steel.
The war cleric stepped out into the street upon seeing the bodies of our fallen comrades. He stepped to one corpse and checked for life signs. There were none, so he said a short prayer and moved to the next body. The process repeated three times, all while the Xyphonites were apparently starting to fire at the cleric, but failing to strike true with their shots. One soldier from the squad who just arrived carried several rockets with him. He tried to cross the promenade, perhaps to see if he could help D’Dhenn resolve her ammunition situation, but he was cut down by a Xyphonite irradiated bullet and fell dead. The cleric patiently and calmly moved to him, and upon realizing he had died, said another prayer.
“In the name of Erd and El and their viceroy, Tyir, so be it,” said the cleric, making the sign of Erd-El on the soldier’s helmet.
“Fucking luck of the Parvans, am I right?” said Gir, who began firing on the Xyphonites again, suppressing them.
I looked over at the cleric again, who approached one of our comrades with one of his legs blown clean off. The one-legged soldier was wildly blind-firing in semi-automatic with his rifle, cursing All Creation all the while. As the cleric came close to the soldier, he waved off the man of the faith.
“Bah, I don’t need the Commendation of the Dying or prayers or anything like that, priest! Don’t you see this tourniquet on my leg, huh?!” He slapped his thigh, shaking some drops of blood free and sending them onto the pavement. “Say, do you have ammunition?”
“I have a grenade,” said the cleric, who readily gave him one.
“God truly does work wonders! Thanks!” said One-Leg. He activated the grenade and threw it to the Xyphonites. A green-tainted explosion sent several Xyphonites to violent ends.
The cleric continued weaving his way through bodies and enemy fire, giving parting blessing to the recently deceased and nearly dying. However, he suddenly turned back, and carefully walked to the soldier with the rockets. He picked up the ammunition case and gracefully walked over to us.
“Thank God, cleric! Good man!” yelled D’Dhenn, who reloaded. She fired, utterly ruining the Tank Xyphonites and many more of their comrades.
By now, the Xyphonites were slowly falling back, and we were moving forward. Our troops were further aided by the most fortuitous appearance of a war mech. It stomped up the promenade, having appeared from a side street, and fired its heavy cannon at the formation of Xyphonite troops, scoring many killings.
“LORD!!!” yelled the pilot, who transmitted his communications from loudspeakers on his mech. “Do you hear your servants?!” He raised his mech’s left wrist at the Xyphonites, firing a single heavy high-explosive rocket. The blast at first silenced the nearby environ with a quiet flash. A sphere of white-blue light enveloped a small radius of air, and then rapidly condensed, and in almost an instant, released its energy in a deafening BRAAAAAA noise, not too dissimilar from the deep, deafening horn of a ship. The shockwave threw away what Xyphonites were not already dead from the heat or concussion of the blast, and it gave us pause, forcing us into cover.
After a few moments, we continued moving forward. Gir looked up at the sky. “Thank you, God,” he said.
“You’re welcome!” said the cleric. We looked back, and he waved at us with a very wide smile.
“That cleric isn’t… all there, is he?” I asked in a low voice.
“No,” answered Cpt. B’Scorak. “Some of him is with God.”
Category:The Weekly