To Duel With the Hands of God
by
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“The death of a brave man is always a sad thing.”
Elder Jumn spoke the words slowly, letting his fervent belief block out the sadness and anger that threatened to overwhelm him. You couldn’t tell by listening that he’d recited the Brotherhood Prayer for the Dead countless times already that day. Hand of God or Corporate freebooter, it didn’t matter to him. He had enough faith to share, even with the nonbelievers he came across – not that they could argue the point anymore.
“The cares of the living pass away with the burden of the flesh.”
He reached down and gently closed the unseeing eyes of the corpse as he spoke.
“See now all that has been wrought for you. See now all those who have gone before you and wait to ease your path.”
A Brotherhood warrior dropped another corpse on the pile where Jumn knelt in prayer.
“Walk in the path of righteousness. Follow your guide to blessedness. Veer not from the path, for it is the true Way.”
The piles of dead were still growing as the Hands policed the bodies from the last Corporate counterattack. At this point they had no where else to put them.
“Have no concerns for the living, as we have no concerns for the dead. Those whom we’ve loved shall live forever within us.”
“Elder?”
A Hand of God came to attention as Jumn looked up.
“Elder, we’ve cleared the far warehouses and into the main processing plant. Should we push on or consolidate for the next attack?”
Jumn took a moment to study his Tac-board, pushed to the side and forgotten since his prayers for the dead had started.
“Have the True Believers of the Second Wing pull back to phase line two, First Wing can support from where they are currently trying to regroup.”
“Yes, Elder.” But he didn’t immediately leave to deliver the orders.
“My son?” Jumn waited for the inevitable question.
“Elder, why do you trouble over the Corpies? They worship only greed and profits.”
He sighed and sat back on his heels, looking up at the opaque face screen of the Hand’s armored helmet.
“I am but a man. Would you have me judge the worthiness
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About the Book
In the future, entire planets have been transformed into production facilities where generations of employees are born, work, and die, under a single Corporate banner. Angered by decades of Corporate indifference to their needs, religious fanatics, the Hands of God, seize hundreds of these factory worlds for their own.
Imperiled by this catastrophic loss, the deep space Corporations band together to form MilCorps, a military arm whose sole purpose is to retake these lost facilities.
But, after seven years of war, things are not going well for MilCorps. When Sergeant Dalmon Bri and his special operations team are tasked with a questionable mission on a backwater world, he can only wonder if the Hands of God are the real enemy.
About the Author
James R. Elliott is a sixteen year law enforcement veteran who has trained and operated with the finest military and police special operations personnel in the world. He is currently employed by the U. S. Government.