The Story of Death Kard

A Dark Hero's Journey

by L E Crane

 

Book Details


Telling Death Kard’s story is like trying to describe an entire galaxy being pulled into a tiny black hole. He devoured our planets, one after another, while casting his ominous shadow upon everyone and everything, sending all of our worlds into a terrifying darkness. I had first heard of Death Kard as a very young boy, by a woman who once loved him very much. She trained me night and day for only one purpose - to hunt him down and send him back to whatever hell he had come from. His dark tale covers 500 years and is told on 13 different worlds but it really began on the last day of the Great Galactic War, after the final battle, when General Kard was transformed from being merely a terrifying warrior and a great general, into being Death Kard, the galaxy’s worst nightmare. His transformation began with a simple but desperate plan, born of necessity and the Evil General’s endless thirst for war. Therefore, it is here where I will begin this amazing adventure. A story of terror, destruction and enslavement - The story of Death Kard.

 

Book Excerpt

Chapter Three

488 years earlier. 2780 AD.

“General Cooper, you must leave the battlefield. That’s an order!” General Kard waited for some sort of response but General Cooper said nothing. General Kard lowered his voice and asked again, “General Cooper, please leave this battle field.”

The generals’ armor shined brightly in the heat of the midday’s sun. Their finely polished armor was designed to deflect laser fire in battle. Their visors were lifted open, exposing their damp faces as General Kard stared intently upon General Cooper, with his large black eyes.

General Kard stood a good foot taller than the other general. General Cooper was 6’1” but always felt much smaller when standing next to General Kard’s towering frame. Cooper’s black face had sharp pleasant features, a tight gray beard and a very capable look that beamed from his clear brown eyes.

General Cooper just smiled without answering, ignoring General Kard‘s demanding stare. Cooper nodded to himself, staring down the hill, pleased with what he saw. This was as honorable a death as any man could ask for, he thought to himself. The day had been a total defeat, but a defeat that held no dishonor.

Cooper’s eyes fixed upon his dead and the dying warriors, covering the blood stained ground as he looked to his right and then to his left, down and across the long sloping hill. It was a sea of dead and wounded warriors that stretched out as far as his eyes could see in both directions.

Brave men who had also refused their order of retreat, standing their ground on ground that could not be held. This was their final battle, their final defeat in a vicious war that had just come grinding to a halt.

General Cooper had watched with great pride from on top of the hill as the last of his men fell. His men had fought valiantly against overwhelming odds, pressing the enemy backwards, down the hill, until the sounds of battle were no more, leaving only the sounds of wounded enemy soldiers, screaming and crying for help. He was proud and impressed that his wounded and dying warriors kept their silence–as they always did. They would not beg for help or shed their tears, even as their lives drained from them into the warm red soil.

Large patches of blues, grays, browns and greens began moving forward, stopping their march less than fifty yards away from the two generals. Each color represented a different army, brought together from more than twenty different Free worlds.

The men on the front lines watched as the big general unsheathed his very long and very sharp, finely polished swords. The general next to him unsheathed his sword but drew little notice.

Private Palmer–a Freeside army regular–asked the private next to him, “How am I supposed to fight with this heavy blade? I can barely lift it.”

“You’re not,” Private Breed answered, standing just to Palmer’s left, his eyes glued to General Kard‘s long blades, while his sweat was being pulled from him by the draining sun. Their royal blue uniforms were caked with dirt and dried blood after a long morning of fighting. Private Palmer could barely get his fingers around the handle of the sword he had just been given. He stared at the long thick blade, wondering what species it had been originally crafted for.

Palmer asked, “Well, then why did they give them to us?”

Breed, “I was told they are for dulling the Big General’s blades. The guy also told me–with a straight face mind you–that we should try to get our heads in the way, too.”

Palmer: “In the way of what?”

Breed: “His swords.”

Palmer: “My head? What is this sword for again?”

Breed: “To dull his blades.”

Palmer: “Am I using this sword or my head?”

Breed: “Both.”

Palmer: “I’m lost… am I missing something?”

Breed smiled then finally looked to Palmer and said, “When he cuts through your sword try to get your head in the way.”

Palmer‘s eyes grew wide, “He can cut through this thick blade? And why in the world would I use my head?”

Breed: “It’s the hardest part of your body.”

Palmer: “Then what?”

Breed paused for a moment… “Then he kills someone else I guess.”

Palmer starting to panic, “I’m going to die?”

Breed: “We’re all going to die.”

Palmer: “We’re all going to die? But it’s over… the war is over.”

Breed: “Not for us, at least not the way we were hoping.”

Unsure if the other private was just pulling his leg, Palmer said, “I was sort of hoping to see tomorrow.”

Breed: “Well hope for something else.”

Palmer: “I don’t want something else… You’re not joking are you?”

Breed: “Oh, I heard a funny joke this morn…”

Palmer interrupting, “First you tell me it’s my job to dull his blades with my head and now you want to start telling me jokes?”

Breed: “Use the sword too and lighten up–you only die once.”

Palmer: “You’re not scared?”

Breed: “I’m scared shitless, why do you think I’m telling jokes?”

Palmer: “I think I’m going to be sick.”

Breed: “Just breathe.”

Palmer: “I’m standing here about to die and you think that somehow breathing is supposed to solve my problem?”

Breed: “Yah… ironic isn’t it.”

Palmer looked away from Breed, as tears starting to dampen his eyes. He smiled an uneasy smile, trying to come to grips with the fact that his would be a soldier’s fate.

Breed went on, “You know how they are with General Kard. They would gladly send every one of us to our deaths if it meant seeing him dead. I think for most of our leaders the war will never really be over as long as they think he’s still out there, plotting against us.”

Breed looked back down the long hill at the large patches of armies, wondering if they had enough soldiers left to bring the Evil General down, this time.

General Cooper knew he, too, faced a sure death and that it was only a few moments away. Cooper turned and stared warmly at General Kard, while reaching out his hand. General Kard stuck his right sword in the ground then embraced Coopers much smaller hand, gripping it tightly. The men stared into each other’s eyes and nodded–A nod that held within it friendship, respect and a heartfelt goodbye.

General Kard pleaded one last time, “Please, I need you now as never before. How am I to rebuild an army without a single general that has seen battle? I’m asking you as a friend to leave this battlefield and let me finish my work here alone.”

Cooper just smiled, savoring his last moments, knowing full well he would be of little to no help to the Great General in the Freeside’s final attack. He let go of General Kard’s large powerful hand and turned back towards the enormous monster that was clearly hungry for his death. Cooper smiled a satisfied smile seeing that it was two against more than one hundred and sixty thousand–the perfect odds for a perfect death.

General Cooper slowly started walking forward down the hill to greet their enemy, with General Kard matching his steps by his side. The big General decided that if his dear friend was to die, he would let him die right by his side just as he wished.

There wasn’t a species in the galaxy, large or small, that did not fear attacking the Big General. They knew General Cooper would not last long into the next battle and each wondered how many it would take to bring the Evil General down–or even if they could bring him down. It took great courage to overcome their fear when they finally heard the call to attack.

The Freeside soldiers let out one last battle cry as they charged headlong at the two generals. Cooper and Kard lowered their visors, while taking a battle stance side by side. They dug their back feet into the dirt, and braced themselves for the first wave. General Cooper stared calmly into the countless terrified and angry faces, now only a few meters away. The soldiers appeared as a wall of boots and swords, charging straight for them. Cooper tightened his grip on his father’s sword, lifted it a bit higher, and then yelled, “RULE!” for the last time.

General Kard’s two long blades began cutting down man after man as he worked himself in front of General Cooper, trying to thin the enemy as they charged in an endless stream. He could hear Cooper’s blade from behind, working hard against the soldiers that now had them completely surrounded.

General Cooper had watched the Great General fight many times before, but never so hard and never so deadly. No sword could deflect or stop the Great General’s powerful blows. The Death Charger’s blades moved at blinding speeds, cutting right through the enemy’s swords, killing one man after another.

Cooper’s arm grew tired as he punched, kicked and slashed, frantically trying to prolong a life now measured only in minutes–and then finely in seconds.

It was a thick blade from behind that finally stopped General Cooper’s tired arm. A hard thrust pushed the blade into his back and out his chest. He blocked one last blow of a young Free soldier charging him, then watched Private Palmer being cut in half, across his mid section, from one of Kard’s long red blades.

Private Breed buried his sword deep into Cooper’s gut, and then shoved him backwards with his boot. General Cooper landed hard on his back, and then listened as the men that had just killed him fell one after another by his side.

General Cooper lifted his visor, still fighting, but this time for each breath. He felt the warm blood of another freshly killed soldier splash his face, as he took one last look at the bright hot sun, then watched as it disappeared into the darkness.

General Kard’s determination turned into rage. He waded through the sea of Freeside army regulars the way one walked through a wheat field on a windy day. His two long blades were constantly in motion, removing heads, arms and legs as he slowly pressed forward, cutting men in half, horizontally and diagonally. Some men screamed, some men gasped, but most men died without a sound as their blood splashed and flew in all directions.

General Kard finally halted his bloody march to find himself completely surrounded by tens of thousands of soldiers at the bottom of the hill. He had cut a trail of the dead and dying, in a rage set off by seeing the last of his men fall next to him, yet again. He had ordered his last division to leave the hopeless battle but a Rule warrior did not have to obey an order of retreat–few ever did. He wanted to save the last of his men and his closest, most trusted general. His men refused to leave, sensing that General Kard wanted to die with the death of this long and well-fought campaign.

For two long years, the Rule’s armies had been destroyed on one battlefield after another; always outnumbered, battling to the last warrior in each lost territory. This was the Galactic Rule’s final stand and they had wanted to make sure the Freeside paid dearly to reach that last Rule Warrior left standing on Truss.

General Kard had an inexhaustible strength of arm and will. He could fight for days on end and had many times before. He stood head and shoulders above the men tightening in around him. His mirrored armor no longer shined–being caked with the dried and fresh blood of his victims.

The soldiers held their swords high, awaiting the Big General’s next move. The Freeside general in command, Kar Rhine, pushed his way through his men to face the Evil General. General Rhine assessed the deadly problem he now faced and stomped his right foot hard into the ground. This was a signal for his brigades to line up in formation behind him.

Captain Trite–now standing next to General Rhine–whispered out of the side of his mouth, “What are you doing? We have him surrounded.”

Rhine whispered back, “He does not like it when you stand behind him;” trying to be heard over the screams and crying of the dying men in the bloody path just behind General Kard.

The Captain returned, “What?” The Captain’s voice no longer a whisper, “We have him now! The Great Defeated General. You mean to let…”

It was as far as the Captain would get. Kard sheathed one of his long, messy swords while bringing his foot down on the end of a dead man’s sword that laid across his bloodied chest. The sword flipped high into the air as Kard caught its handle, then threw it with all his might.

The sword went right through the Captain’s armor, his chest and out his back, then right through the next man behind him. It found its resting place in the belly of a soldier behind them, launching him backwards and impaling yet another man, leaving the two men stuck together laying in the dirt, screaming for help .

“General Kard!” Rhine shouted. “The battle is lost! Your men are all dead or bleeding to death. This is our ground now! We have earned it with our blood as well as yours. What glory is there in killing for the sake of killing? This pointless war is finally at an end and there’s nothing you can do that will change it.”

General Rhine lowered his sword and walked right in front of the towering general, then shouted, “Kill me and be gone!”

General Rhine was trying to appear fearless, but an empty hand told a different story as it shook with anticipation and fear. He stood his ground, staring up at the big general, bracing himself for a quick death.

The Freeside armies had once again had become an endless line behind their general–as deep as it was wide. General Kard unsheathed his sword again and stared down at the much smaller general. Kard crossed his bloodied swords in salute then turned to look at the path of his victims leading back to the battlefield that was still drinking the blood of his defeated army.

General Kard’s anger, painfully bled away as he said, “I concede this battlefield and ask that we be allowed to save our wounded and vulture our dead.”

Rhine nodded in agreement and then brought his sword up in front of his face–a sign of respect. The men behind him each stomped their right foot as one, lifting the heavy swords to their faces.

Kard looked out on the seemingly endless sight of Freeside armies and crossed his swords again; he then sheathed both swords while turning his back on them. He took off his helmet–letting it fall to the ground–then paused for a moment, hoping to tempt a laser from behind. When it was clear that no one was going to take him up on his offer, he quietly walked away.

The Freeside soldiers wanted desperately to cheer in victory, but feared provoking the Evil General into returning to his one-man assault on their armies.

Once again, General Kard had to return to his transports all alone to greet the angry faces of those who supported his ever-shrinking 408th Death Corps. Cooks, drivers, blacksmiths, mechanics, welders, doctors, nurses and all the many men and women that supported his armies, gathered together on the edge of the camp, watching as their general returned.

A small woman stepped forward to greet the defeated General and said, “General Kard let us fight, we are willing. We shall fight to the last, just as our brave warriors have done here this day. We can fight, you know this.”

The General just walked past her and in a hollow, monotone voice, he said, “Strip the dead and save the dying. Do not provoke their armies. That is an order.”

They snapped to attention and in one loud voice they shouted, “Rule,” with their right arms shooting into the air.

General Kard stopped and looked around at all the faces still filled with anger and pride then returned, “Rule!” in a loud voice that carried across the huge camp, sending his right arm skyward, as the dried blood of his victims left his arm, some in chunks and some in a reddish brown cloud that filled the air around him.

General Kard ordered his support teams to pull back to Hurge–Truss’s large, slow moving moon. Kard knew he would soon be fighting a hopeless battle to defend the moon base and with only the support teams left to defend it.

He decided to approach the Rule Council with a request to abandon Hurge and bring what was left of his forces home, knowing full well that this was probably the last time he would ever battle on Truss, and maybe even the last time any Rule warrior would battle on the dead planet.

Later that night the General stood alone, watching as his support teams prepared to lift off. A sinking feeling came over him as he realized he was now a general without an army–and even worse, a warrior without a war.

It was during this dark moment that the plan that changed everything began to take shape in his troubled mind. It was a wild and desperate plan, but those were wild and desperate times. If the Rule Council could be brought on board, General Kard believed he could retake Truss once again, and maybe this time for good. It was a long shot at best and might even be seen as crazy, but it was hope. He believed, their only hope.

 

About the Author

L E Crane

A social explorer who likes to reinvent myself every few years. Writer, sculptor, dreamer and almost sane.

I have written many poems and a few short stories–two poems and one short story about my childhood were published. At ten years old, after writing my first short story–a Sci-Fi–I decided that one day I would write novels, and now I'm finally on my way.

Writing The Story of Death Kard was a very long but exciting journey. I was so compelled by the characters, and the story, that it almost wrote itself. I cheered, cried and laughed my way through this, my first novel. A very passionate writer who got lost in their strange futuristic galaxy every time my imagination opened the door into Death Kard’s timeless world .