The stars twinkled over the cloudless Mort desert as they usualy do, completely ignorant of the Leets and Rollerrats that were hiding in their burrows to escape the biting cold of the desert night.
The ruins glowed softly, even after all this time they wore the marks of the horrible battle that had once taken place here. So many of his friends had gone in, but only a handfull had escaped with their lifes, if not their sanity. Clan, Omni, and a few Neutrals had come here to free the Cyborgs prisoners. It had been a disaster, even if the primary objectives had been achived.
The trecherous sand shifted under his feet as he slowly made his way down the dunes, his armors internal systems informing him that the area was heavily radiation damaged. His suit could protect him, but only for so long.
As he walked further into the ruined outpost the signs of battle became clearer. Sand had been fused to big shards of glass by heavy Plasma and Laser bolts, bullet holes riddled every wall that were still standing, the burnt out husks of Gamma grenades were everywhere.
He passed a piece of standing wall that was miraculously unharmed but for the erosion of sand and wind. That was where Moomh, the spirits bless his heart of gold, had finaly been dragged down by a dozen Cyborgs, fighting to the last with his back against that very piece of wall. It was a fitting monument to the seemingly indistructible Atrox.
His walk took him through the compound, every step, every sight bringing back memories of friends and allies lost, of Heroes left unsung but for the memories of a few survivors. The almost gone crater where Worto had stepped on a mine, the dark spatters of dried blood where Merina.....
So many memories. So much pain.
Still he walked on, forcing himself closer to his goal.
He stopped at the entrance to the deep bunker. Half blocking the doorway was the remains of Minuteman. The Warbot had fought a desperate last battle over the the remains of it´s masters dead body. With a bow of respect he entered the bunker. His personal Hell.
He walked past the guard room, then the barracs. Then the closed and sealed door to the command room. Japet had stormed the door and then sealed it from the inside, trapping herself inside with the base commander and it´s bodyguard. The dents on the door showed that something had been pounding on it from the inside, but the massive blastdoor had held.
His feet felt like lead as he walked down the stair to the first basement of the bunker. This was the cell block. As he passed the third cell, he almost turned back. This was his cell. In there he had spent weeks in constant pain, humiliation and fear.
When he passed the fifth cell he stopped. Why did he do this to himself? He closed his eyes and a single tear forced it´s way out. Because he had made a promise never to forget, never to forgive. He walked on, each step becoming ten times harder than the one before.
He passed the last cell. This was the point where it had all turned. Masses of Cyborgs coming up from the lower barracs, forcing them to turn back. Preventing them from entering the door at the end of corridor. The interogation room.
With a shove of his shoulder he forced the door open. Everything was exactly as he had left it. Well, almost. The Perm-a-candle had almost burnt out, and the lone rose was just dried out husk. He slowly walked over to the steel table. Even after all this time it was covered in a thick layer of dried blood and grime.
With a hiss the seals on his helmet came undone and he placed it on the table next to the candle. His tears flowed freely now, barely making it to his cheeks before they evaporated into the dry air. His helmet chirped three times at the danger of the radiation, but this was something he had to do. From his backpack he took out a new candle and a freshly imported rose.
"Another year has passed my love." He replaced the old rose with the new one, placing the old in a stasis tube. "Still i remember." He lit the new Perm-a-candle on the old one as it burnt it´s last fuel. "Please forgive me. We could not save you." He fell to his knees, tears staining his face.
For several minutes all that could be heard was the sobbing of a man that had his heart torn and shredded, but still left alive.
"I´m growing old my love. I can feel it in my bones." He looked at his left glove, counted some of marks on it. Close to fifteen hundred Cyborgs had fallen to him since that fatefull day. Still not enough. Never enough.
He took out the Holo-Pic projector from one of his armors pockets. Linda. His life. Everything. He thumbed the button, flipping through more pictures, remembering. Linda, him and Linda, friends, acqueintances, Clan mates.
He came to the last picture. It was him and Linda outside the Council of Truth tower in Tir, proudly holding up the marriage certificate, signed and stamped. It had been taken a week before their planned wedding, four days before they went on that ill fated patrol.
Pain, loss, hate and memories, that was all he had now from that time. His helmet chirped again, more urgently this time. If he stayed much longer the radiation could cause serious, even unrepairable damage.
He stood up and swung the backpack onto his back. He checked one last time that everything was as it should be before he grabbed his helmet. Later tonight he would lit candles in the cathedral for all the others and remember them all propperly. But this, this was for Linda alone. The love of his life. The one they could not save. The one that might still be in the Cyborgs prison somewhere, or worse yet, turned into a Cyborg herself. He prayed with all his heart that she had come to a swift and painless death.
He stopped at the door and turned halfway back into the room. "See you in another year my love."
Some one had once said that he was not truly alive anymore, just a dried out husk, much like the flower in the stasis tube. That was partialy true. The man he once was had died a long time ago, he had died piece by piece under the scalpel of a Cyborg interogator, when he had spent hours forced to listen to the torture of his friends, when he could not save his love. When he learned that the Council of Truth had refused to mount a major rescue operation, then refused to take his warnings of the Cyborg threat for real.
Gone was the idealistic young Soldier that had fought and belived in the Clans cause with all his heart. Left was only a tormented man with memories of a better time. Elmo "Xhairs" Barchus, general of the Omni-Tek Armed Forces.
He walked out of the bunker, into the cold desert night. Once again he donned his helmet and checked the seals. As he climbed the dunes surrounding the compound the sand hissed, flowed and settled around his boots. He was never quite sure if it was just the movement of sand, his imagination, or ghosts not yet laid to rest. "Remember us!" he thought he heard, so many voices, all wanting to be remembered. When he passed the peak of the dune they were all gone, except for one.
"Remember me my love."
----------------------------------------------------------------
(In memory of Kate Oakley. I will never forget you.)
