Chapter 1: Mars' Dying Gasps

“Brother is everyone safe?” he hoped against hope that the enemy did not cut off planet-wide communications yet.

“Remus! Gods man, where the hell are you? We are about to leave. You have to get here now!”

Remus sighed and bit his lip.

“Rom, do me a favor will you? Say farewell to mother and Lucinda for me?”

“Remus you better get your carcass on this ship this instant! You have played your part. It’s time to leave.” Romulus shouted over the speaker.

“Dear brother, it has to be. If I do not stay, there will be escape for no one. I love you all. Take care of our people. And Rom, light a candle for me will you?”

Romulus looked at his wrist communicator, tears running down his cheek. He looked at his mother and sister and both of them were also crying.

“Gods damn you Remus!” He roared as he removed the device and flung it into the dirt.

There was no time for grief, as they still had to load the tomb onto the Icarus and make good on their escape. Romulus looked like a caged lion, not knowing where to turn first. He decided to run down towards the ship.

“Make haste! Load the accursed thing!” He yelled at the legionnaires, trying to hold back his tears.

One of them fell with a gaping hole in his chest. Creator troops were piling into the launch area, opening fire on all who crossed their path.

“Romulus, help them!” Cressida yelled at him.

“But what of the tomb?” Rom trying to yell above the clamour.

“We will take care of it! Help your men!” She screamed over the sound of gunfire and explosions.

Romulus closed his eyes and took a deep breath. His power was different to Remus's. He could amplify all his own physical attributes tenfold, even rend stone and steel with his bare hands. He opened his eyes, ablaze with the raw power within him. His muscles grew, veiny and hard as a rock and his raven black hair turned to purple, to match the hue his eyes became. He stood up to his full height, a human titan, taller than the rest of his men.

“Keep them busy.” He calmly ordered one of his commanders, before leaping into battle.

He reached the first creator, easily matching them in size in their bulky armour. He punched right through its black, slick shell and tore out his enemy’s guts. It fell in a smouldering heap. The creators stopped dead in their tracks, halting their assault, clearly surprised at this human’s strength. One of their commanders slapped a nearby trooper on his head.

“Keep firing maggots! He is only one man!” The legionnaires needed not to receive such an order from Romulus as they continued their defence. Two troopers next to their commander fell.

“Shields!” He ordered and the hexagonal patterns of orange flickered to life, repelling the fire from the legionnaires. Romulus smiled wickedly. The first shot that hit him stung, but the second one winded him. He raised his hands and arms into defensive positions to minimize the damage. Once again he closed his eyes, taking blast after blast from enemy fire. Romulus slowly stood up, raised his hands above his head and roared, slamming both into the ground.

It created a shockwave so intense, it knocked out the entire shield grid. Once again they stood confused and bewildered, trying to re-activate their defences, but to no avail. The image of his brother, about to die on this misbegotten rock, came to mind and for the first time in his life, he experienced a white-hot rage that consumed him. The first one he reached was not spared his wrath as Romulus ripped the arm from his body and proceeded to use it as a club, letting its owner bleed out on the floor. With one swipe from his makeshift club, he smashed another two.

The creators started to attack him in earnest now, ignoring the fire from the legionnaires and focused their attacks on Romulus. Good, he thought. It would give the others time to escape with the tomb. With every strike, with every kill, with every blast he experienced, his rage grew and grew. Somewhere, far away he heard his name yelled at him repeatedly. It was his mother. He looked down at her, still holding the arm in a crushing grip.

“Calm down son, they are all dead.” She said to him while stroking his engorged arm. He mastered himself and reverted back down to his regular size, dropping the arm. He was breathing hard as he fell to his knees.

“Is the tomb and everyone aboard?” He wheezed, clutching at his wounds. Looking at her, seeing tears run down her cheeks.

“Your brother has fallen. He used his gift to stop them from aborting the launch. The entire complex has been destroyed.” She told him, choking back a sob.

He struggled to find his feet. He was not sure if this weakness was born from the news or the battle itself.

“Then let us depart lest we are set upon again.” Romulus replied softly. They boarded the Icarus and sped off, leaving only dead bodies in their wake.

---

The Icarus hid inside the rings of Saturn. Cressida’s idea was to make sure they were not followed. Romulus sat in the command chair, rubbing his forehead with his thumb and forefinger. His mother returned to his side.

“I could have saved him you know.” Romulus told her as she tended his wounds.

“Your brother was as stubborn as you are. No one could have saved him. Not even you.” She said, half smiling as she rubbed a foul smelling ointment into his wounds.

He never flinched, his mind far away and his body numb from grief, all he could think of was his brother. His gaze finally rested upon the black stone that was the object of the Creators desire. The object that was the result of the annihilation of his people. He roughly shook off Cressida’s ministrations and he groggily approached the perfectly sculpted block of black stone.

“For this my brother died! For this our people are undone!” Romulus wailed as he smashed his fist into the unyielding rock. And again. And again. His knuckles started to bleed.

“Brother please! Stop this!” Lucinda cried as she tried to stop her brother from further injury.

Only then did he cry. Lucinda gathered him in her arms as they both lay crying at the base of the tomb. They stopped at length, Romulus wiping his eyes.

“There will be a time to grieve, but it is not now. We have a responsibility to the survivors and to the tomb.” Cressida said, also wiping her eyes with the sleeve from, what once was a beautiful dress.

“Damn the tomb and damn Hellion! Our family was tasked to protect this slab of useless rock! If Hellion was so powerful, why did he not rise from the stone and smite our enemies?” Romulus yelled, pointing at the tomb.

“You know that only a power equal or greater than his own can free him from the tomb. If such a one existed amongst us he would have.” Cressida replied morosely, looking down at her feet.

Romulus sniffed and stood up. He walked over to the cabin entrance and pressed a button on one of the panels.

“Any sign of pursuit?” He asked over the intercom.

“None my lord. It seems they did not follow us after...” The pilot’s voice trailed off.

“Set a course for Earth.” Romulus ordered.

“Yes my lord.” Came back the reply.

Romulus tried his best to muster up a smile.

“Let us go have a look at our new home.” He told his family.

---

They landed the ship in a clearing inside a dense forest. Seeing a couple of sparsely populated villages, they decided to land at the biggest one they could find. As soon as they touched down Romulus cloaked the ship and they all disembarked.

“It is so green here.” Lucinda said, letting her fingers brush upon a bush.

“The cloaking will not last long. We need to bury the ship along with the tomb.” Romulus said as he limped off the gangway.

“We might need the help of the locals.” Cressida remarked as she calculated how many hands were needed to bury a ship of this size. The survivors were not enough.

“So we get to be gods again?” Lucinda asked, almost a hint of glee lacing her words as she rubbed her hands.

“My lord, all personnel and civilians have disembarked. We set up camp just inside the tree line north of the Icarus.” The commander said as he approached them.

“Good man. Set up scouting parties and foraging groups. I doubt we brought along enough rations to feed everyone.” Romulus ordered. He bowed with a hand over his chest in salute, turned and briskly walked off to the camp.

“Lucius!” Romulus called after him.

“Yes my lord?” Lucius asked, waiting for further instructions.

“Stop calling me lord.”

Baffled Lucius looked at Cressida. She just nodded. After bowing again, he walked off.

“Let us go and be gods.” Romulus said as they walked off towards the village.

---

They crested a rise and at the base of the hill was a village.

“They appear to be pre-bronze era.” Lucinda remarked.

Their huts were little more than sticks and mud and almost everyone walked around with nothing but loincloths. Their weapons appeared to be no more than wooden lances with fire-hardened wooden tips or tipped with flint. No evidence of farming or even domestic animal and fowl were seen. As soon as Romulus’ party was spotted, the men quickly ran and formed a fighting line between them and their village, shouting curses and what sounded like war cries.

“Melding with one of those is going to be so much fun.” Lucinda said, slowly backing away and standing behind Romulus.

He looked back at her and flashed his trademark grin. She scrunched up her face and stuck her tongue out; knowing her fear was made known.

“I don’t suppose we could trade?” Romulus asked Lucinda, still grinning. She just shook her head rapidly in the negative and Romulus snickered.

“Be careful son, we cannot do anything to alter their fates. The rules of the seeding still apply here.” Cressida warned.

“Do not fear mother, I know the rules.” He said smiling, before transforming himself into a titan again.

All the villagers started to howl and growl at Romulus, gesturing with their spears in an aggressive manner. He raised his hands in a gesture of surrender and slowly walked down the hill. One of the younger men, obviously inexperienced and over-anxious, pre-emptively launched a flint-tipped spear at Romulus, which shattered against his iron barreled

chest. Now all the villagers were in an uproar, and even some of the females were wailing or telling their children to go into their huts to hide. Romulus stopped within striking distance.

He knelt in front of the closest man and held out his hand. His comrades nudged and egged him forward. He growled at them but did not step back. He slowly reached out to touch this giant’s hand. Romulus braced himself. This part was the worst. The first thing he needed was the man’s language, and after enough digging through his primitive brain, he found it and made it his own. Before he broke the connection he decided to linger awhile. This man worshipped terrible gods that demanded blood. He also loved his mate and their offspring. He also found pleasure in carving animals out of wood and he revelled in the hunt. He was clearly the village leader. He broke the connection, groggily shaking his head.

“By what name are you called?” Romulus asked him. Confused he looked at his people.

“You know our words?” He asked in return, the grip on his spear slightly loosening. Romulus paused for a second or two. He smiled.

“I am your god!” Romulus proclaimed grandiosely. Two of the men in the back sniggered. The leader turned around and silenced them.

“This one is called Drek. I am the leader of this clan. Apologies for my men. We worship the sun and stone and place no faith in man-like gods. You are the first one we have seen.” Drek explained.

They had a strange language. Where words failed them, they added hand gestures for more complex ideas. So he had to find a word for ship, but since they only had little canoes he settled for the word boat.

“Evil gods will follow us Drek. They must not see our star...boat. I would strike a bargain with you and your people.” Romulus told him. Drek bowed slightly.

“How may we serve the man-god?”

“You bury your dead?” Romulus asked. Drek shook his head in the negative.

“We burn them. Other villages bury, but we do not. The dead linger if we do not burn them.” He replied.

“I need you and your people to go there and dig a big hole and help us bury our star boat before the evil gods return and destroy your people.” Romulus said, hoping a little fear would seal the deal, but Drek looked unafraid.

“You said this was a bargain, man-god. How will this benefit my clan?” Drek asked.

Romulus looked over to his mother, who clearly shook her head and mouthed the word ‘no’. He had no choice.

“You hunt and forage every day for food. You have to carry water great...many steps to your village. When the snows come many of you become sick or die from the cold or hunger. Even the cut on your arm will go bad and you will die.” Romulus said pointing at Drek’s wounded arm. Hunting wound no doubt. Drek nodded in acknowledgement. These were the biggest problems his clan faced. He would be a fool not to listen to him.

“What do you offer man-god?” Drek asked him, laying down his spear on the ground. His men followed suit.

“I offer you wisdom. I can teach you how to plant so you may never starve. I can teach you how tame wild animals so you can raise and use them for food and other things. I can teach you how to bend rivers to your will. How to build strong, warm huts and better tools to build and harvest faster. I can also give you the gift of herbs so you can cure disease.” Romulus finished, hoping his mother would not scold him too harshly. Drek bowed his head in reverence.

“These would be mighty gifts man-god. But while you teach, we would still starve. We need to hunt daily. Do you know of a weapon that could help us hunt better while you teach?” Drek pressed. He had the advantage in this negotiation and he knew it. This was a slippery slope they were on now. Advance them too much, and they would run the risk of creating the master race scenario on this planet. At length, he decided.

“Bring me some cured hide.” He commanded. Drek grunted at one of the females and she ran off to a nearby hut to fetch what Romulus wanted. This was fine work, so he discarded the titan form and bade Drek sit with him.

Romulus took out his knife and cut a shape. Two long strips and a catch pocket. A sling. He looked around and found a pebble that was acceptable. He put it inside the sling. A bird chirped on a branch not far from where he stood. Romulus wound up and let the stone fly. The bird’s song was cut short by the stone and dropped dead from the tree. Drek and a couple of the older men were very impressed by this weapon and their interest outran their fear of Romulus as they approached to view this new marvel.

“Give this to every hunter and you will never starve.” Romulus proclaimed. Drek bowed to Romulus and accepted the weapon.

“I will master it and instruct all my hunters in its use.” He said, a grateful look on his rugged features. Romulus and Drek struck an agreement, that they would bury the ship and they would settle around it so as not to arouse suspicion in case creators found this place. So many life forms in one place would disrupt their readings. Romulus approached his family.

“What did you offer them?” She asked. She knew, but Rom had to reveal the full extent of the bargain.

“I offered them basic Paleolithic tools, and the sling.” He said smiling, hoping it would assuage his mother’s anger. It did not as his cheek was soon to find out as the slap rang out.

“How could you? You know what this kind of advancement means!” She hissed at him.

“He was a shrewd negotiator. I was good. He was better.” Romulus said, rubbing his cheek. She raised her hand to slap him again, but he caught it.

“Do not strike me again mother. The only people that could enforce the laws of the seeding are all dead. We are all that remains. It does not matter one way or the other. These primitives will safeguard the site for all eternity until our genes mixes with theirs. Hopefully one day they will produce someone powerful enough to release Hellion.” Romulus ended, releasing his mother’s hand.

It took the villagers six days to bury the ship with the help of the survivors. Romulus left the tomb inside the ship. He also impressed the seriousness of the situation to Drek, that if the “evil gods” found this place, their entire world will be destroyed. Granted, in Drek’s mind, the entire world was probably thirty miles in either direction, but still now he seemed fearful for his people. He vowed no foreign invader would ever take this site from them.

They stayed in the village for another four days before Romulus decided it was time to take their leave from Drek’s people and spread the Martian survivors out far enough to integrate into primitive society. At the original landing site, he forged six shields and six swords from the scrap metal discarded from the Icarus. One set of weapons for each group. This would be enough to impress or dissuade any attackers on their respective journeys. Romulus and his group decided to go south. The rest he bade to go where ever they wished, as long as it was not south. As they made to depart, Lucius stood on the hill, looking down upon the village.

“Are you coming Lucius?” Lucinda asked him and he slowly turned his head. Romulus knew what he desired.

“May our descendants regard each other as brothers.” Romulus intoned as he firmly clasped Lucius' arm in farewell.

“This universe is harsh Romulus so I doubt it, but it is a nice sentiment. I hope so too.” He replied, smiling as he let go of Romulus’ arm.

“Well, Master Lucius, what would you name this great nation of yours?” Romulus said mockingly as he nudged Lucius on the shoulder. He looked down upon the village again.

“These people are hearty, honest and love to fight. They do not mince words or speak in riddles. I would name this place Gallia.” He said smiling.

“Gaul? Named for that drunken little slum in Argos?” Romulus asked, and then they both laughed loudly.

“Well, I wish you and your Gauls good fortune Lucius.” He said as he turned to rejoin his family.

“And I to you Romulus.” He said, bowing to his former master, one last time.