Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Author: Zorlond
Title: Kron, Knight Errant
Part: Chapter 02
Summary: The Adventures of Kron, a powerful warrior in a universe of
technology and fantasy.
Keywords: Mf, Mdom, teen, piv, impreg?, non-sexual viol, magic, penis
size



   Chapter 2

   "ATTEN-SHUN!  FALL IN!" The bellows rolled over the crowd of people
clustered together in an open sheet of metalcrete.  All were dressed in
drab coveralls, and many looked like they weren't certain about being
there. "WHEN YOU HEAR THE WORDS 'FALL IN' YOU WILL DO SO!  STAND TWO YARDS
APART FROM THE PEOPLE AROUND YOU!  IF YOU DON'T KNOW HOW FAR THAT IS, HOLD
BOTH ARMS OUT WIDE, IF YOUR FINGERTIPS CAN TOUCH THEIR FINGERTIPS YOU ARE
TOO CLOSE!  NOW FALL IN!  FASTER!  ARMS DOWN!  TIME FOR YOUR FIRST
INSPECTION!"

   The man in full combat armor who had been shouting at the crowd lowered
his voice to a lesser, yet still commanding, volume as he walked down the
ranks looking over those assembled.  "I am Sergeant Tanner.  You will
address me as Sergeant or Sir.  Is that clear?" A random assortment of
assents rumbled out of the crowd.  "I said IS THAT CLEAR?" This time he got
a somewhat ragged batch of 'yes sir's.

   Tanner snorted loudly.  "What a disgrace.  I have never seen in my
twenty years of service a sorrier sack of filth as you lot." He paused to
noisily spit onto the ground.  "Every stinkin' year, they throw me a new
batch of rotten criminals to train.  I don't give a rattac's soggy ass what
you did to make you come to the System Guard, but I know most of you are
avoiding execution by being here.  And if you can't cut it, I have
absolutely no problem sending you off to your firing squads.  Or," he
paused to dramatically wave around to the nearby walls surrounding this
corner of the training base, "If you'd rather save a trip, we can handle it
right here and now." Up on those walls armed and armored soldiers marched
back and forth, some eyeballing the assembled recruits as if casually
waiting for the order to open fire on the entire lot.

   Apparently having finished with the general intimidation factor, Tanner
moved on to individual intimidation, calling out any inadequacies, real or
imagined, that he saw in each recruit.  And then, as he came down the line,
he paused.  "Damn, you're a right big bastard, ain'tcha?  What's your name,
boy?"

   "Kron, sir," he smoothly replied, carefully staring off into the
horizon.

   "You sure you're in the right place, boy?  We don't train ogres here."
Tanner glared up at Kron, the crest of his head not quite reaching Kron's
chin.  "Ogres need 'special attention'." He drew out the phrase in a
mocking sing-song.  "They just can't handle the intellectual intricacies
that we demand."

   After a moment, Kron replied, "I believe my intellect is more than
capable of handling any intricacies you demand of me, sir."

   Tanner squinted his eyes at Kron for a moment, brow darkened by the edge
of his helmet, as if trying to divine if someone was prompting his words.
"You sure you ain't got any ogre blood in you, boy?"

   Considering, Kron decided to answer with, "I never felt the need to ask
my mother about it, sir."

   Tanner kept his gaze on Kron, and Kron kept his gaze on the horizon. 
After a moment, Tanner shouted, almost in Kron's face, "GET DOWN AND GIVE
ME FOURTY!"

   Without pause, Kron got down where he stood and started doing push-ups
in a rapid, steady rhythm.  He'd rather expected it when the sergeant
decided to single him out.  There was a good half dozen others also
struggling through their own push-ups already.  Of course, Kron wasn't
struggling in the least.  Most of the time he did this particular action,
Dani was under him having a wonderful time.

   Tanner watched him for a moment before moving on to the next victim.  In
due time, his bellow was heard over the recruits once more.  "ALRIGHT YOU
LOT!  LAPS AROUND THE COMPOUND!  HUT TWO HUT TWO!  GET THOSE LEGS MOVING!"
What followed was the expected hard training regimen, running laps, hauling
loads, and lots and lots of yelling.  As the recruits wheezed and strained
through the work, Kron did all that was ordered without any trouble.  Long
years in the mines had given him strength and endurance well beyond what
the other recruits could offer.  So many days, the recruits returned to
their barracks gasping for air and moaning about their aching muscles. 
Kron almost seemed to glow.

   After weeks of physical training, a slightly smaller crowd of recruits
fell in before a squat structure near the base's medical facilities.  "I
bet you are wondering why I brought you all here," declared Tanner.  "Some
of you might even be wondering why none of you have so much as laid hands
on a weapon since you came here.  Well, this is not where you get to lay
hands on said weapons, but I will tell you that you NEVER WILL until you go
through these doors and endure what lays beyond!  Form orderly lines and
step inside when called!" With that, he marched up to the doorway's control
panel and pressed a button.  "We are ready."

   A few moments later, the door slid open, and out stepped a surprisingly
short and thin creature.  Kron's eyes slipped from their careful horizon
stare, but that brief slip was more than enough.  It was a young woman,
short, dark hair and almond eyes, barely more than five foot tall.  She
couldn't have been more than fifteen or sixteen.  Army shirt and pants that
looked a little too big for her, army shirt left open to show a black
t-shirt under it.  She looked over the recruits with a level gaze, then
made a sweeping gesture.  "First ten of you guys, get in here." With that,
she turned around and went back inside.

   Kron and the other nine walked into the building behind her, following
her through long corridors before turning to head into a large room.  The
roof turned out to be clear, and above them, more armed soldiers stood
watch.  A few more soldiers stood within the room, though they didn't have
any obvious weapons.  Down both sides of the large room were metal tables,
above which hovered a dozen or more mechanical arms bearing a variety of
tools and harsh lights.  The girl gestured to the two closest tables
without turning around to look at the recruits.  "First two, shirts off and
lie down.  Rest of you, same deal.  Get your shirt off and get on a table."

   The recruits slowly split off as they walked down the center of the
room, various men and women standing nearby to approach as they lay down.
Kron took a table as directed, second from the end, taking his shirt off
casually and dropping it next to the table.  Looking up, he watched a man
with grayed temples look over him slowly.  "My, my, you're a fine specimen,
aren't you?  Let's get to work..."

   As the man reached up to take hold of one of the tools hanging from the
mechanical arms above, he stopped when a hand set on his shoulder.  "Hold
on.  We gotta swap." The girl from before stepped into view around the
older man, jabbing a thumb towards the table next to them.  On it, the man
who lay there shirtless was displaying a rather massive tattoo across his
torso, a fanged snake with mouth wide open, staring straight out, the word
'DEATHADDERS' across the top.  Clearly some form of gang mark, one that
must have taken many hours.

   "Ah, yes," the man said.  "This will be good as well." The man stepped
away from Kron's table to step over to the former gang member.  The man
casually reached out to one side to snag the leading edge of a sliding
curtain.  "Tell me, would you like some leather to bite?" His words ended
with the hiss of the curtain sliding to hide them from view.

   The girl gave a brief mirthless snort.  "Sucks to be him, right now." As
she walked up to Kron's table, he got a better look at her.  Slim fingers
took hold of one of the lights above them, as she casually adjusted the
height of his table with her other hand.  Her right eyebrow was pierced
with a pair of barbells.  A small loop pierced the left corner of her
mouth. A dark swirl on her neck hinted to some ink heading towards chest
and shoulder, and a bit more peeked out from under the cuff of her sleeve.
As she sat down on a stool next to the table, she slowly took in Kron's
bared chest, muscles bulging under his skin, a bit more defined than usual
thanks to the heavy training.  She took a slow breath.  "Um, okay...  I
guess we get started."

   Kron noted the slightly ragged breath, the hint of uncertainty in her
words, the slight tremor in her hand as it brought down a tool arm and
approached his skin.  He didn't visibly react, merely lay there quietly,
watching her.  The tool in her hand looked rather like a tattoo gun, the
thin tube feeding into it from the ceiling glowed a soft purple, and the
holy seal of the First Empress was emblazoned in iron on it's side.  Around
them, loud buzzing started up as the other artists got to work, and very
quickly followed the grunts and pained yells of recruits getting their
tattoos.  From the looks of it, everyone was getting the same tattoo,
letters right across the left breast.  On the other side of the closed
curtain, the former gang member was particularly loud.  No doubt from his
former affiliation being thoroughly removed.

   "Could you just lower your arm?  I need to get in here..." Kron easily
complied, letting his left arm dangle from the edge of the table to let the
girl scoot in.  His skin was clear, unblemished, a perfect canvas.  Well,
aside from the shapes created by his bulging musculature, which seemed to
thrum slightly under her sensitive fingertips.  She considered his chest
silently for a few moments more, and then, with a slow breath, activated
her needle gun and got to work.

   When the buzz began, Kron set his jaw and made no sound.  And during it
all, Kron could hear the girl chanting, words striking out from her mouth
as precisely as needles.  Thin glowing trails of light curled out from the
fingertips of her free hand, arcing over to touch the skin just under her
needles, the magic subtly sneaking in with the ink.  Into his skin, ink and
magic was placed, glowing bright purple as it entered, darkening to a
near-black as the needles moved on.  Under her skilled fingers, the letters
began to form words, words that seemed to be etched deeper than a mere
tattoo.  Closing his eyes, Kron could see the words forming in his mind's
eye, marking his very soul.

   Almost subconsciously, Kron's hand twitched, moving slowly across the
floor.  Fingers touched booted ankle, skimming upwards to contact calf
through the baggy pants.  His thick fingers gripped her calf for a moment,
feeling her hidden curve through her pants.  Her chant paused, and as
Kron's hand continued slowly upwards to pass knee and up to thigh, he heard
her inhale sharply.  His strong, thick fingers started to slowly trace back
to the curve of her little ass, when her words cut in.  "Uh, you may want
to...  stop.  You're being really...  really distracting right now.  If I
screw this up, I'm gonna have to rip it all out and start over."

   Kron paused for a moment, then let his hand fall away.  He opened his
eyes again to look at her, biting her lip as if she was trying not to beg
him to keep going.  She leaned over as she got back to work, perhaps a bit
more closely than needed.  As she began her chant again, needles buzzing
away, Kron could feel her small breasts pressing against his side, little
hardened nubs poking through her t-shirt and into his skin.  They dragged
along as her work and the text continued, almost as if they were trying to
etch a different sort of pattern into him.

   As the work continued, and the words grew in length and density,
multiple lines of text now, all in sharp gothic script, Kron's hand
returned to her leg, just staying down on the calf, lightly rubbing and
squeezing at it.  She made no verbal reaction, though he could see a bit of
sweat damp her brow.  He let her work, trying not to distract her too much,
and as she approached the final words of the text, Kron began to softly
speak.  Eyes closed again, he read the words that had been carved into his
skin and soul, deep voice adding gravitas to their meanings.  As he did,
his hand once again slid up her leg, up her thigh to take firm hold of her
hip and ass as the final words were simultaneously tattooed into his skin
and uttered from his lips.

   "I stand on the line between order and chaos.  Evil shall rush at me,
and will break upon me, and I shall not be moved.  For I am the wall that
guards the Empire and it's people, my duty shall not be swayed, and my will
shall not be broken..."

   Under her hands, the girl watched as the entire block of text glowed and
shimmered, the ink moving within his skin, straightening and neatening
lines, and somehow becoming more real as she watched.  And then it pulsed,
growing briefly across his chest before settling back down to where she had
placed the ink.  And then the words were still.  Kron's eyes opened again,
and looked at her.  For a moment, she thought he might pull her in to kiss
her...  and she wanted him to.

   "The Oath of the First Empress." The words came from his mouth, a clear
statement.

   She paused for a moment, mind changing gears, before nodding.  "Yes. 
All the System Guard get it.  An oath to protect the Empire and it's
people..."

   "Protect, whatever the cost." He seemed closer, his eyes on hers, so
strongly, so close.

   Her breath came at a whisper, moving on it's own.  "It's the only way
the Empire could ever trust criminals enough to be soldiers."

   It all stopped.  Her words hacked right through whatever was going on
between them, and it was done.  Kron's strong hand left her ass once again
as he slowly sat up on the table, turning away to set his feet down and
snag his discarded shirt.  Behind him, she buried her face into her hand,
mentally kicking herself.  She just had to say it.  Just had to call him a
criminal.  Untrustworthy.  Dangerous.  Had to be magically sworn to
service. When she really just wanted him to service her, just rip her pants
off and shove his face into her snatch, licking her up to a quick cum
before getting on top of her and...

   "Thank you for the work," Kron told her, after getting his shirt back
on, hiding the tattoo once more.  "I'm guessing you have more recruits to
work on.  I'll leave you to it." With that, Kron walked to the exit.  She
watched him go for a moment, then sighed heavily and called over the next
recruit in line, gritting her teeth to get her mind back on track. 
Hopefully she could get back to work without turning the sacred oath into a
litany of debauchery.

   That night, recruits compared tattoos, pointing out the quality of some
of the work, and having a laugh at the 'Deathadders' guy, who would only
state that it hurt to breathe.  Kron didn't join in with the revelry.  He
hadn't expected his first tattoo to be so...  intimate.  Well, as intimate
as it could be with armed soldiers watching.  And the reminder of what sort
of person ended up in the System Guard.  All now bound by the oath carved
over their hearts, to protect the Empire and it's people.  To protect
her... He didn't even have the chance to get the tattoo girl's name.

   The next few weeks continued the physical training, supplemented with
weapons practice, firing and rites of maintenance of the standard-issue
weapons for a System Guard: A rifle that fired short or long bursts of
magnetically-propelled metal slugs, an under-slung grenade launcher armed
with fragmentation grenades, and a sidearm, of similar design to the rifle,
used for a backup.  On rare occasion, they were issued high-explosive hand
grenades for anti-vehicle duties.  And, of course, the armored uniforms of
the System Guards, which they would now wear for most of their lives.

   Being familiar with the inner workings of a mining cart, Kron could
grasp the basics of how the weapons were put together and taken apart for
maintenance, that was no surprise.  The fact that the rifle felt so sure in
his hands, and how easily he could hit a target was.  Sure, a few recruits
could put individual rounds in the very center one after another.  But Kron
could empty his rifle in one mass-burst and put every round within the
inner circle.  He did equally well with grenades and pistol.  Training, for
him, was merely a matter of improving reaction times and being more
comfortable with the weapons.

   As the initial weapons training ended, the recruits were divided for
more specific training, based on performance.  Kron was assigned heavy
weapons, tripod mounted assault weapons as long as a man was tall, intended
to saturate an area with flying metal.  Normally assigned to a two or three
man team, Kron was expected to handle the weapon alone, perhaps in an
attempt to break him with it's mass.  But soon, he was lugging around the
massive weapon and ammo crate with it's connective ammo belt, with as much
speed as he could muster, getting it down and ready to fire, blasting the
target, then swapping to rifle to hit a fresh target off to the side, all
while the thick armored plates of his uniform weighed him down.  And always
someone screaming into his ear to do it faster, better, sharper, striking
at every exposed part of him with a crop.  And Kron did.

   With the second round of training done, the recruits were called to fall
in on the aircraft tarmac.  In full combat gear, Kron stood quietly,
assault gun weighing down a shoulder, handle of the ammo crate digging into
his fingers.  Before them, Sergeant Tanner looked over the recruits. 
"Recruits," he began, "You are about to undertake the hardest mission of
your lives.  And while this mission is for the sake of your training, the
gentle treatment you have been receiving ends now.  Your lives and deaths
are what is at stake.  And in the future, should you pass this training,
your lives and deaths will determine whether or not the Empire itself lives
or dies.  Meet this with equal determination as will be expected of you in
the future."

   As Tanner spoke, some Guardsmen walked among the ranks, buckets of paint
in one hand, and with the other, crudely slopping red paint by the fistful
onto the armor of each recruit.  Helmet, shoulders, chest, and back, all
were marked in red.  Overhead, engines screaming, several VTOL combat
transports made their landing approach on the tarmac.  "As of today, you
are Red Squad!  You will board the transports coming down behind me!  And
you will be taken to the mission site!  There is a Holy Shrine to the Third
Empress at the mission site!  You will take this Shrine, and you will hold
it!  Enemies will come and try to take it from you, but you will repel
them! Do this until you are relieved!"

   As the transports landed and brought their engines down to idle, Tanner
stepped forward, looking into the eyes of each recruit in turn.  "I want
this to be absolutely clear.  ANYONE who is not a part of Red Squad is to
be considered an ENEMY and SHOT ON SIGHT!  I don't care who you think they
are!  If they are not Red, they are dead!  If they get the chance, THEY
WILL KILL YOU!  I expect them to be dead first!"

   "The only exception will be anyone marked in black.  They will not be
involved in the mission, and you will not interfere with them.  I repeat,
Black Squad is NOT to be shot at, struck, or even talked to.  They will do
their job, and then leave.  You will continue your mission until I relieve
you over comms.  IS THAT CLEAR?!"

   Kron joined in with the yell of "YES, SIR!", even as the soldier came by
to mark him.  Head, then shoulders, chest, and back.  When all were
suitably marked, Tanner gave them the command to move out, and they all
stormed into their transports.  Kron secured his gear and got into his
seat, strapping down within seconds of boarding, the rest of Red Squad
right behind him.  With a roar of engine power, the transport took to the
air, and tore across the sky to their destination, outer doors sliding
closed as it straightened it's ascent.  As the craft settled into a cruise,
Kron softly patted the bare panel beside him, muttering a soft prayer of
thanks.  Perhaps a bit old fashioned, but he always found machines behaved
well when treated well.

   The transport climbed high, past the clouds, past the ambient glow of
the mid-day sun, skirting the edge of the upper atmosphere to achieve
speeds untouchable within atmosphere.  Within half an hour, the transport
descended again, winds turned to screaming plasma around the craft, licking
at the window slits.  The craft rocked and bumped, every bit of uneven air
thudding into the craft to be felt inside.  More than one recruit's face
turned greenish as their insides were violently shaken.  Kron hung in
there, unmoved, until the flames died down and the craft doors slid open
once more.  He readied his rifle to generally aim out the open door,
towards the landing site.

   It was a great plateau, a few miles across, wreathed in clouds and
covered in lush forest.  In the very center, somewhere within that forest,
a point of bright green light could be seen.  To either side, the other
transports held their formation, doors open and others of Red Squad ready
to disembark.  As the transport approached a clearing on the edge of the
plateau, Kron scanned the site.  No enemies revealed themselves, and when
the transport touched the dirt, Guardsmen poured free as Kron quickly
retrieved his assault weapon and crate from storage.  The moment he stepped
out of the craft, it immediately blasted back into the air, closely
followed by the other transports, rapidly flying back above the clouds.  In
moments, Red Squad was alone.

   The squad took loose formation and moved out quickly, training kicking
in.  Kron marched with them, assault gun on his shoulder, ammo crate by his
side.  The forest grew around them, light fading to an ever-present green
in the thick air.  Their march was mostly uneventful, stopping twice to
send a few scouts ahead to get their bearings.  The forest was tricky,
meandering paths and uneven ground hidden by the density of trunks and
bushes.  But, as the scouts returned after the second stop, word came that
the shrine was in sight.

   Kron marched from the dense forest into a large clearing, at the center
of which the ground rose unevenly, but steadily, to the foundation of the
shrine itself, a grand edifice of bright metalcrete marbled with green
veins, golden accents carved into vines and leaves seeming to crawl up the
walls.  The dome roof was a lattice of arches and gold vines, supporting a
statue of the Third Empress, upraised hands holding aloft a massive crystal
that glowed a bright green, clearly the light that had been seen from the
landing site.

   Kron took it all in slowly, before his senses caused his head to turn to
the left.  A moment later, another Guardsman called out of movement in that
direction.  Red Squad hastened to defensive positions, Kron ducking down
behind a small rise, getting his ammo crate set down and connected to his
weapon.  A moment later, another squad mate called out again.  "Hey, it's
more Guardsmen!  Yo!  Over here!" The Guardsman stood up, waving his hand.

   The Guardsman took multiple hits in less than two seconds.  He was
already dead by the time the body hit the ground.

   The air around Red Squad turned into a lethal barrage of fire, all of
them scrambling for what cover they could.  One slammed into the ground
beside Kron, ducking flying metal, shouting, "Empress of Misfortune, what
are they doing?!  We're Guardsmen!"

   Another squad mate nearby cried out, voice rising to be heard over the
scream of bullets, he shouted, "Their armor is marked in blue!  Remember
your orders!  If they are not Red, they are Dead!  RETURN FIRE!"

   Rifles came up and began unloading, all aimed at the figures on the
other side of the clearing.  Kron got his assault weapon up, tripod set on
top of the rise, and held down the trigger.  In his sights, Guardsmen with
blue-marked armor took his fire and fell.  His thoughts were not on the
insanity of firing upon those who should be allies, but on returning fire
upon those that had struck first.  Sweeping across their formation, any
blue helmet that strayed too long into sight was cut down by Kron's fire.

   Less than a minute after the firing began, the ragged few blue-armored
men fell back into the forest, quickly lost from sight.  Red Squad stayed
in position a while longer, weapons carefully scanning the forest for any
sign of movement.  Eventually, it became clear that the fire fight was
done. Around him, Kron could hear the groans of the wounded and dying. 
What few Guardsmen with medical training began tending to the wounded.

   "You men, care for the wounded.  Rest of you, let's take the Shrine."
When the call came out, Kron lowered the assault gun and left it there,
figuring the medics could use it for cover if needed.  Unslinging his
rifle, Kron followed the uninjured up into the Shrine.  The structure was
several stories tall, it's height supplemented by half from the statue on
it's roof.  The open archway led inside, where the sun poured down openly
from the lattice roof.  Inside the building was a single grand room, the
center dominated by a pedestal ten feet tall, supporting another statue of
the Third Empress.  This statue was of her kneeling, arms out wide, as
leafy plants and vines wrapped gently around her in an almost sensuous
manner.  Her face turned down slightly as if to stare quietly at any who
approached the altar set before the statue.

   Behind him, Kron could hear a squad mate mutter, "Third, third...  Can
never recall.  Plants, right?"

   Kron softly spoke over his shoulder, eyes scanning the room intently for
any danger.  "The Third Empress is the Empress of Life.  Plants, yes, but
also animals, and our own bodies." There were four main archways entering
the Shrine, evenly spaced around the circular structure.  Between each set
of archways were pairs of minor shrines to the other Empresses, allowing
the worship of all nine if desired.

   A search of the main floor turned up no threats.  Orders were passed out
to bring the wounded inside while defensive emplacements were set up
outside each archway.  Kron retrieved his assault gun and set it up
pointing towards the side of the clearing the blue Guardsmen had been seen.
With the rising slope and low cover, he would have a punishing advantage
from there.  Down the hill, he could see the bodies left from the battle.
It seemed unlikely that the Blues would try to retrieve them, but Kron kept
watch all the same.

   It was a few minutes later when a whine of distant engines revealed to
be a pair of transport craft coming to the Shrine.  Black stripes down both
wings and fuselage were clearly visible, and as they very carefully landed
on the slope, several Guardsmen in black armor stepped out of one.  The
other looked empty.  Kron took note of them, but as ordered did not
interfere.  They quickly ran over to where much of the enemy Guardsmen had
fallen, and began taking weapons from the bodies.  It wasn't until they
started carrying corpses back to the transport that Kron started watching
them intently.

   "What're they doing?" a Guardsmen asked beside Kron.

   "I don't know," Kron muttered.  He scanned the forest more, but always
kept an eye on the odd behavior.  Corpses were hauled to the empty
transport and strapped into the seats.  Corpse retrieval might be explained
as being for burial, but why strap them into seats?  It wasn't until the
black squad was nearly done that Kron had his answer.

   A blue Guardsman, flat on the ground, cold and dead, suddenly sat up.

   Kron didn't react at first, just staring at what should have been a dead
soldier, but when that Guardsman raised his rifle, Kron quickly took aim at
him.  The black squad got to him first, however, two men assaulting the
not-so-dead Guardsman with bare hands, disarming him and beating him down
quickly and efficiently.  Kron relaxed his aim, and the black Guardsmen
continued their work, quickly getting the last bodies to the transport. 
From his perch, Kron could see that the bodies that had been strapped into
seats were starting to move, as if waking suddenly from deep slumber.

   "Take my station," Kron declared to the squad mate beside him.  Turning
the assault weapon over, Kron unslung his rifle and began running, into the
Shrine and along the outer wall to the other archway.  His fast and noisy
run drew attention, and a few more squad mates fell in behind him as he ran
out the other arch, expecting attack.  But what they saw as they followed
Kron outside was the patch of forest they had first arrived from.

   And about half a dozen red-marked Guardsmen sitting up where they had
fallen.

   "By the Empresses," Kron heard muttered behind him.  He slowly marched
down the slope to the site, others falling in step behind him.  As he came
close to one of the sitting Guardsmen, he looked up at Kron.  His eyes were
unfocused, confused, mouth hanging open.  When his eyes did manage to focus
on Kron, his arm came up, eyes turning to fear.

   Kron immediately lunged forward, blocking the rising rifle.  Knocking
the weapon aside, Kron took hold of the confused Guardsman's shoulder and
pushed him down, pinning him.  "Stop!  Stop!" Kron forcefully told him as
he struggled weakly.  "I'm not your enemy.  Focus.  There's no enemies
here."

   Weapons fire burst out behind Kron.  Looking over his shoulder, he could
see a standing Guardsman, wobbling and slowly spinning in place, rifle
firing randomly at the other guards that had followed Kron down.  Shouted
words were ignored, and when a shot managed to hit one of the Guards in the
shoulder, more fire rang out and the confused Guardsmen dropped dead. 
Again.

   Looking back down at the Guard pinned under him, Kron told him, "Focus.
Regain your senses.  We are not your enemy." Seeing comprehension slowly
returning to the Guard's eyes, Kron asked, "Are you alright?  Are you back
now?" The Guard nodded, and Kron released him, offering a hand up, which
was taken.  The Guard seemed a little wobbly on his feet, but sane once
more.

   Around Kron, more fallen of Red Squad were awakening, and following his
example, Guardsmen were taking hold of weapons and arms, waiting for their
owners to fully awaken before releasing them.  Medics came rushing down
from the shrine, checking over those who had risen from death as if
awakening from slumber.  Each one was declared alive, in full health. 
Confusion upon awakening faded, and soon all but the one dead body was
declared fit for duty.

   Kron looked down on the freshly re-fallen corpse.  Pointing at it with a
commanding finger, he declared, "Disarm him completely, before you take him
up to the Shrine.  Medics, keep very close eye on him, and have two men
ready to secure him when he awakes." Unquestioning, Red Squad followed his
orders, and he led the way back up the slope to the Shrine.  Upon entering
the arch, Kron turned to head towards the small aid station that had been
set up for the wounded.  Following a suspicion, Kron walked over to one of
the medics watching.  "Check the wounds on this man," Kron told him,
indicating a Guardsman with a heavy bandage on his leg, drenched in red.

   The medic did as Kron asked, carefully peeking under the bandage at
first, then pulling it away.  The leg was undamaged, skin splattered with
clotted blood but whole.  As surprise spread, Guardsmen checking their
wounds and finding none, Kron stepped away, to the altar of the Shrine.

   More vine decorations curled along all sides of the altar, and in the
center of the altar sat a book, held open and in place by the golden vines.
Looking at it, Kron could see that it was a manuscript, handmade, probably
thousands of years old and magically preserved by the altar itself,
detailing this Shrine to the Third Empress.  Reading it, Kron reverently
turned the page, thick finger tracing his attention down the words.  He
stood there, reading, for several minutes before some others of Red Squad
came up to him.  Without being asked, Kron intoned, "...  for this plateau
is Blessed by the purity of the Third Empress.  Wounds cannot hinder any
who are harmed here.  Death shall have no dominion here.  And thus, the
Light of Life shall ever shine..." Kron trailed off, then looked upwards to
the statue, the serene gaze of the Empress of Life meeting his own.

   "We can't die here?" one of the Guardsmen asked.  "Why aren't people
dragging corpses here and lined up halfway to Hades, then?"

   "Probably only works if you're killed here," another Guardsman answered.
"I'd want to know why this place isn't a fortress."

   "Empress of plants?  Probably can't even chop down the trees.  It's
wall-to-wall forest out there."

   Kron held his gaze on the Empress' face a few moments more before
speaking, "We have our orders.  We hold this Shrine.  Man your stations."
Even as some turned to go, the sound of gunfire could be heard.  Over the
comms, the call came of enemy attack on the north side.  Red Squad rushed
to the defense of the Empress' Holy Shrine.

   Kron had to retrieve his assault weapon and set it's tripod facing this
new attack, a fresh squad of System Guards with armor marked in yellow. 
Having the high ground and entrenched positions, Red Squad had the
advantage, and steadily fought Yellow back to the treeline, but even as the
fight neared a close, an explosion rocked Kron's position.  The remnants of
Blue Squad had crept in close enough to start blasting up the slope with
their grenade launchers.  Looking over at them, Kron grunted in annoyance.
Looking at his assault gun, he unlocked the weapon from it's tripod,
lifting the entire weapon and settling it on his hip.  Swinging it over to
this new attack from Blue, Kron stood at the crest of his little hill and
rained death down upon them.  His ammo box fed him a steady stream of metal
to fuel his furious assault, and the weapon continued to rattle in his
hands as it was swept back and forth from one target to the next, then back
again as a few more stubborn Yellows tried to rally.

   Red held the Shrine against both attacks.  Black Squad again came in
once fighting had stopped, retrieving the fallen from Blue and Yellow
before the blessings of the Third Empress could awaken them.  Casualties of
Red Squad were taken inside the Shrine, where they soon recovered.  And the
cycle repeated.  Attackers came and were repelled.  The dead arose to take
up fighting once more.  That evening, a transport dropped a massive crate
at the edge of the slope, filled with ammo.  A firefight quickly erupted
when Red tried to retrieve it.

   Red Squad was left there for three days of fighting.  Eventually, the
word came over the comms.  "Red Squad," came Tanner's voice, over the
scratchy static.  "Stand down and cease hostilities.  Return to your drop
zone for retrieval." A long and thankfully quiet march, followed by a ride
in the air transports, ended in their return to base.  After stowing gear
in the barracks, they were all immediately marched back out towards medical
facilities.

   As they marched, Tanner told them, "You were sent to the Shrine of the
Third Empress as part of your training!  You are expected to learn from
each and every death you suffer there!  Once your training is done you will
not be returning to the Shrine!  Thus, when you die as a full System Guard
upon the battlefield with the Empire's foes, YOU WILL STAY DEAD!  You will
not allow that to happen!  The pain of dying should make it abundantly
clear why you will not!  Company, Halt!  Now..."

   Tanner lowered his voice as the squad came to a stop before the same
building where they had received their oath tattoos.  "You are about to get
your hash marks.  Every time you come back from the Shrine of the Third
Empress, you will come here to get them." Reaching up, Tanner undid the
chin strap of his helmet and removed it.  Turning to the side, he slowly
marched down the ranks.  "Every hash mark is a death!  This shall be a
permanent record of your deaths during training.  If you earn too many, you
are OUT!" As he walked down, his right ear bare and showing seven
clearly-seen black lines on it's uppermost curve.  "Form up and head inside
when called.  Tell the technician how many marks to make.  Be honest!  YOU
HAVE BEEN SCRY'D THE WHOLE TIME!  Lies will not be tolerated!" Hitting the
signal button beside the door, he waited for one of the tattoo artists to
come out before going inside with the first batch.

   Eventually, Kron was brought inside, and as he walked down the tattoo
stations, passing Tanner as he supervised the markings, Kron paused for a
moment as a Guardsman, right ear freshly marked five times, got up. 
Smoothly, Kron stepped up to take the vacated seat, a smile upon his face.
"Hello," he intoned.

   The same black-haired girl from before froze for a moment, blinking. 
"Um, h-hello," she managed.  Turning her eyes to her needle gun to fiddle
with it a little, she tried to deflect his presence and retain a
professional attitude.  She cleared her throat and asked, "How many?"

   Kron's answer was plain.  "None."

   She blinked.  "What?"

   "I didn't die.  Not once."

   She looked into his eyes.  "That doesn't happen..." she started. 
Turning to a console nearby, she tapped out a quick sequence on the
buttons. A screen flickered to life, a face forming there.  "Need a death
count verified."

   As she spoke to the man on the other side of the comm link, Tanner
walked up.  "Problem?" he asked.

   "Uh," the man on the view screen hedged, "No, I was just verifying a
death count.  Recruit Kron, zero deaths."

   Tanner scowled, his expression darkening as he leaned over towards the
console.  "Check again."

   "Sir, we've already double checked.  We didn't believe it either, but
the count is zero."

   Tanner grit his teeth.  "And I said 'check again'.  Zero deaths on the
first stay out at the Shrine is impossible..." Tanner's gaze swiveled over
towards Kron.  "Unless he is a coward and hid in a hole the entire time."

   Kron didn't react to the unveiled accusation.  The man on the view
screen said plainly, "No, he is rated at 97% participation, over 100
confirmed kills." When Tanner turned back to the screen, the man quickly
caved.  "We'll check again..."

   Tanner eased back upright.  "This will likely take a while." Talking to
the tattoo girl, he told her, "Stash Kron somewhere until this can get
sorted out.  He doesn't leave without an accurate mark count on his ear."

   "Yes sir," the girl replied.  Standing up, she told Kron, "Follow me,"
before leading off out of the room.  Following her, Kron once again
couldn't help but run his gaze over her small form.  Her head barely came
up to his chest, and her lithe mid-teen body looked even smaller in those
too-large army clothes.  Her short black hair bobbed slightly with her
steps as she led him down a set of stairs.  Opening a door, she turned the
lights on for the room and said, "We use this for storage.  Should be
alright to stay here for a little bit.  Only one door, of course." Around
them, supply crates and old tables sat in the gloom.  As she turned to face
him, she asked, "Anything you need?"

   Kron thought for a moment.  "Well, I'd like to know your name."

   She actually blushed a little at that.  "It's Lin." she said, her almond
eyes smiling.

   Kron smiled.  "Then I think I have all I need here, Lin."

   With that, Kron stepped forward quickly, sweeping Lin up easily in both
arms.  One hand on her ass, the other in the small of her back, Kron lifted
her up into a kiss.  Her arms, as if anticipating his move, quickly slipped
around his neck to hold his head, her tongue meeting his between their
parted lips.  Stepping forward, Kron aimed for a bare crate and set her
down on it, her hips even with his, hand still gripping her ass to massage
it.

   As their kiss continued, Lin's arms slid down from around his neck,
going right for what she wanted.  Rubbing at the front of his pants, she
moaned softly as she felt the large mass there, growing hard under her
touch.  Her fingers went for his belt, popping it and getting his pants
open to reach inside.  She moaned again into the kiss as she came to
realize just how big Kron's throbbing member was.  And as Kron went for her
own belt, Lin wanted nothing more that to have it inside her.  She hopped
briefly as her pants were pulled down, his thick fingers easily getting
into her plain smallclothes and entering her pussy.

   Kron fingered her steadily, as Lin jacked him off, bringing his cock out
fully.  With his spare hand, he nudged her open army shirt off her
shoulders, where she let it slide off.  Under it, her dark T-shirt covered
small breasts, but didn't hide the ink all the way down one arm, shoulder
to wrist.  It was all pastel swirls mixed with hard runes and excerpts from
the Empresses' Litanies.  And as Kron lifted her shirt, he could see that
it extended down over her collarbone as well, a bit of swirl coiling around
her breast.  Kron grabbed hold of that bared breast, rubbing it firmly as
his fingers dove into her pussy.

   She moaned and shook as her body clenched in a quick orgasm, her juices
leaking out around his fingers.  As she came, Kron quickly yanked her
smallclothes until they tore apart, took hold of his cock, aimed, and
pushed his thick cock into her still-quivering cunt.  Lin gasped as his
dick shoved over a foot deep into her, stretching her widely as it passed.
She jerked, lying back on top of the crate, doubling her orgasm in a
moment, just from his massive dick entering her.  And without pause, Kron
found his depth with in her, and began moving in and out.

   Kron leaned down on top of her as he fucked her, his lips meeting Lin's
again in a deep kiss.  She moaned into his lips, pussy twitching in an
aftershock around his fucking massive cock.  She'd never find it's like
again, she knew.  And it was right there, in Lin's tight little pussy,
driving her into another orgasm.  Over her, Kron grunted as her cunt
shivered around him again, and Lin could feel him coming, hot and powerful
jets of spunk going deep into her, each shot massive.  Her tight pussy
quickly overloaded, mixed spunk leaking out around his dick to drool down
his heavy nuts and onto the floor.

   As their orgasms ended, Lin started to sit up, expecting some nice
snuggles and talk.  Instead, what she got was Kron pulling out briefly to
firmly roll her over, face-down on the crate, before shoving his cock right
back into her still-leaking cunt.  Realizing that he felt even harder than
before, Lin gasped and moaned as Kron fucked her again, his big hands
looking enormous on her little ass.  As she set her elbows down to lean up
a little, Kron bent over and nibbled lightly at the back of her neck.  Her
legs hung limp, feet nowhere near the floor, wavering back and forth in
echo to his thrusts.  Their sex now sodden wet from their orgasms, the air
filled with slick sounds of hard fucking.

   In the back of her mind, as her body worked up towards another hard cum,
Lin could feel the thought of her being a little lax with her contraceptive
medicine of late.  And she quickly realized she didn't care one bit.  If
Kron wanted to fuck his arm-thick cock into her teen twat with the risk of
planting his babies in her tiny womb, Lin was going to let him, and let the
Empresses decide if it should happen.  As her tongue lolled out with the
moans of another cum, she felt him speed up, hammering at her pussy with
the drive to plaster her insides with virile sperm, to take that hill and
plant his flag in it.

   He grunted, sending his troops into her domain, already so overfull that
her pussy gushed mixed white over his crotch.  More and more spunk came
into her, only to be pushed out by the pressure of more seed behind it. 
She felt so full, like she had eaten a large meal.  And yet, she was only
half surprised when he pulled out, only to roll her over again, lift her
bodily, and set her right back down on his cock.  He turned and set his
butt on the vacated crate and held Lin against his body, her weight pulling
her sopping pussy down onto his soaked cock once again.  Lin cried out in
intense pleasure as their fucking once again resumed.

   When, eventually, Tanner came down to the store room, looking grim, both
were fully clothed once more, Kron standing, arms behind him, quietly
waiting.  Lin stood a ways away, casually leaning on a table with both
hands resting on it's surface.  Tanner glanced between them before focusing
on Kron.  "Recruit Kron.  Your count has been verified.  Zero.  Head to the
barracks and rejoin your squad."

   Kron nodded and snapped a salute.  "Sir." Tanner matched his salute, and
with that, Kron headed to the door.  Tanner glanced at Lin once again, then
quietly followed Kron out.

   Lin waited a few seconds after they had both faded from view before
skidding down from the edge of the table, arms giving way under her full
weight, until dropping the last foot or so to the floor.  She felt her
pussy, bloated with cun, squish as she landed, and guessed that it'd be an
hour before her legs could support her again.  She grinned and let the
memory of Kron's fucking replay in her mind to occupy her time.

   That evening, when Tanner returned to his base office, the grizzled
sergeant found his desk had been casually pushed aside and a very tall
figure standing at his personal console, slowly tapping buttons.  "What is
this..?" he began, before realizing the shape of the silhouette turning
towards him, barely lit by the glow of screens.  He immediately rose to
attention.  "My apologies, my lord.  I did not realize..."

   The figure looked at him for a moment before raising an arm. 
"Guardsman," it said, in very precise syllables.  "Bring me every single
scry you have of this man.  Immediately." One finger tapped firmly on the
screen, metal ticking on glass.  On the screen was the unmistakable face of
Kron.

   "Yes, my lord." Tanner gave a sharp salute before marching quickly back
out of his own office to comply.  Alone again, the figure looked back to
the console.  A button press, and the scry began playing again, of Kron
sweeping the battlefield with his assault gun.  Silently, the figure
watched.  And judged.





   *****

   This is a work of fiction, if that wasn't clear enough.  Nothing I write
about has ever or will ever occour in reality.  Any resemblence characters
may have to real people is entirely coincidental and unintentional.  And I
can not and will not condone real sexual activity involving minors.

   I do however, condone positive feedback, and encourage it.  :)

   If you feel like sending me some feedback, you can reach me at zorlond
AT yahoo DOT com.