by G R Fabacher
The team moved out quietly. Durrant and Troll took out two security personnel with gauntlet blades. “This is almost too easy.” Troll said, “These aren’t soldiers, I think I’ve outwitted school prefects with more awareness and martial skill than these people.”
“Focus, Troll.” Durrant said.
Scorpio and Weasel moved up, weapons against their shoulders.
They made their way to a lift and pried open the doors. The car was absent.
“Look down, lordship.” Scorpio said.
The elevator car stood at a stop a few floors below.
“Down.” Durrant said.
The four Blackguards quickly and quietly descended using the magilocks in their gauntlets and boots to find purchase on the otherwise smooth surface of the elevator shaft. They dropped to the car’s roof and quickly opened the hatch. One commando threw a grenade magically charmed to silence all sound within a sphere. They were prohibitively expensive pieces of techno-runic magic. The other commando slipped down and fired off precision shots. The silencing effect ended moments later.
Durrant slipped down into the car and saw two dead alchemists and a security officer with a hole where her eye should have been.
“Status on the charges?” Durrant asked.
“Halfway done, setting runes on the one for the main crystal vats now.” Wolf said.
“Affirmative.”
The Blackguards rode the elevator back up to the floor where the relicts were supposed to be located. Acid sticks took care of the dead bodies in the elevator. It wouldn’t do to have a main thoroughfare filled with corpses. They still needed to recover the Magi artifacts, and alarms now would be problematic.
They used a security talisman to access the door to the vault and began turning it over. After several minutes of searching Durrant became impatient with his team. “What is the problem?”
Weasel held a crystal slate, “It’s not here, my lord. It is currently being examined in the main laboratory.” He showed Durrant the log.
“Move out, we get the lab and we take it… hard. Update Wolf and Dagger.” He said on the internal Scrycomm.
“Yes, my lord.” Troll said. “Sir, they report all charges placed, several Republic casualties.”
“Good, have them fall back and secure our route, weapons free but use discretion.” Durrant said.
The Blackguards moved quickly to the main lab, which wasn’t far from the vault for reasons of convenience.
“Be careful not to damage any artifacts, but I want everyone who is not Union dead.” Durrant said.
The team used the talisman to open the door. Quickly and ruthlessly they entered the main laboratory. Nine scientists barely had time to look up before three of them were dead with holes in their skulls. A quick elf made to duck, but Scorpio and Weasel honed in on him to put two flechettes in two of his four eyes.
A human alchemist made for the alarm and a round to the back of the neck nearly took his head clean off. Personnel five, six, and seven were callously dispatched with ease by Troll and Durrant himself. The rest ducked behind tables and pleaded for the Union soldiers not to kill them, but to no avail.
“Find them.” Durrant ordered. It took a few moments but Weasel came up with a tray holding the relics and the notes both Union and Republic. Weasel placed the contents in a small black case and handed it to Durrant.
“To the extraction point.” Durrant said, “Engage anyone in our way, weapons free.”
A door on the left side of the lab opened. It was hidden by several shelves and boxes of papers.
“Guys, you won’t believe what this is a reference… to…” A dwarf with her shade suit’s hood down walked in. Her long blonde hair was braided into several long elaborate chains that and the whole mass was tied into a ponytail. Her big green-gold eyes had a bare moment to register what she was seeing.
Durant pulled his pistol and shot her between the eyes.
“Double time.” Durrant said, and the Blackguards moved back the way they came. Anyone who came within fifteen feet of the unit was cut down.
They almost made it to the elevator when the security personnel actually mounted a credible effort to stop the Union special forces. They came around the curve brandishing the law enforcement version of the standard Republic battle riffle.
“Down!” Durrant said and the other three members of his team took cover. Flechettes streaked back and forth across the hall. The security personnel had the benefit of warded riot shields to protect their people, the Blackguards had their superior training. Troll and Weasel returned fire, their deadly shots sparking off of the wards.
Durrant fired a shot before dropping behind cover. He looked down the hall from where they’d come, shadows tipping him off that other security personnel were maneuvering to flank the Union forces. “Scorpio, at our rear!” He warned.
More shield bearing security forces approached.
“Dagger, Wolf.” We need a hole.” Durrant said
“Yes, lordship. Twenty seconds.” Dagger replied.
The seconds ticked down like hours. Scorpio took a hit to the abdomen, and fell out of cover. The Blackguard returned fire from her prostrate position, but the combined fire of the Republic’s security force was too much. Scorpio took even more hits in the abdomen and torso, smoke and sparks flying off her before Durrant could yank her back behind cover. Five seconds later a hole appeared in the floor, the very bulkhead disintegrating.
“Move, move, move!” Durrant said as he laid down suppressing fire. He looked down at Scorpio. He couldn’t see her face behind the black faceplate, “I’m sorry, Scorpio, no traces.” He used his eyes to access a special command ruin behind his own faceplate.
“It’s my fault…” Her voice was ragged and strained through the scrycomm. “I get… to die fulfilling the Purpose. We should all… be so lucky.”
Durrant took her rune tag and activated the destruction charms in her armor. The armor hissed and sublimated, as if acid were eating it from the inside out. Durrant jumped down the hole in the floor while the Blackguards below covered him. There was a large explosion, and he knew that there would be nothing left of Lesi Jural except the memories committed to the secret annals of the Union Blackguards.
The unit reached their ship. “Do it.” Durrant said as the front hatch on the transport closed as the ship pulled away.
“We thought you might like the honors, my lord.” Wolf said. He handed Durrant the control wand. Durrant lined up the runes and the wand glowed red. He pressed the activation rune on the top of the wand with his thumb.
A series of timed explosions on critical systems rocked the research facility. The white and blue flames extended into the void, Durrant didn’t see any of it, but he knew the cockpit was recording it. It would be something worth watching later. The stealth transport flew through the noise and fire of the dying research base.
Durrant felt pride in his heart for his team. They had never failed before, and he knew as long as the Purpose of the Serene Union was in their hearts, they never would.
Chapter 16
Arbiter Haraius Godwyn was up late again. His wife and doctors hated his late nights. He was on an extensive regiment of tonics and potions to keep him in some pale semblance of health. As the Arbiter of the Republic of Gloriana, everything ended with him. He poured himself a cup of kaffe as the generals and admirals, and other members of his cabinet entered the war room. Buried almost fifty yards beneath the manse of the arbiter, the large crystal displays and polished wooden table shimmered in the stark white lamps that hung overhead.
His secretary, a rather short example of the elvish race—a mere five foot nine inches—held several stacks of paper in two arms, and a clipboard and pen in her top two arms. He was always secretly thankful that she was a Glorianan citizen born and raised, as he never liked having to walk around on eggshells with personal pronouns.
“Sire,” she said, “it’s bad. The first news reports are coming in through official military cha
nnels. The consul of magical science and runic-technology is livid, not to mention all the hawks in military command.” She suppressed a yawn, realizing she didn’t have any of her four hands free to cover her mouth.
She put her papers down and handed him the first preliminary reports. Godwyn rubbed the bridge of his prominent nose and sighed. “All this trouble from some chatter?” It should have been simple: frequent Union communications pointed to something important about a series of control wands that were of Magi origin. It was unusual enough to spark interest, but he hadn’t really thought anything of stealing them from the Union. It was just the next move in a secret war that had waged for nearly thirty years now.
Godwyn would have been lying to himself if he hadn’t wanted to get some payback for the humiliating defeat at the Seat of Heaven, and the attack on the Indomitable and certainly been the latest successful move. That was what the Lich Corps were for after all. Bad people doing bad things to worse people for good reasons.
To destroy a whole base filled with civilian alchemists and workers though? It certainly put the unusual Magi artifacts into a more dangerous light. The most infuriating part of it, is that any information on the damn relics that the Republic had managed to glean died with the Archeon research base. They had the initial findings, but not any new information that would shed some light on this whole travesty. Godwyn sloshed his kaffe around and sighed. He suddenly felt very, very old. He scoffed. He was very, very old.
Once the last general and aide sat down the arbiter stood, smoothed his tunic and sat back down. In years past the Arbiter of the Republic of Gloriana would stand until all the staff had been seated, but no arbiter really observed the tradition rigorously. The token stand and sit was enough, plus there were more important things than bygone formalities.
“Give me options with how to deal with the S.U.H.”
A general stood up. She was a battle-axe of a woman with short-cropped ash-colored hair. She wore the ceremonial breastplate as well. “Sir, we might suggest authorizing a strike into the Bleak Marshes. We know where they’re going, and after the kidnapping of the Guild scientist, the Navigator’s Guild is more than happy to provide us with air superiority. The Guild liaison was especially adamant in lauding the Lich Corps, ‘Use of unorthodox and excessive force to damage Union military assets.’”
“They liked the way they made things go boom?” Godwyn said.
“Not to digress, but yes. The important thing is that the Guild has offered us almost limitless airpower in pinning down the Union expeditionary force.”
Godwyn made a pyramid with his fingers. “Putting aside retaliation for the time being. What kind of force is the Union mobilizing to investigate this old complex in the Marshes?”
“Sir,” a tall reedy man with a sharp face and sharper black eyes stood up, “there are issues with that. The Union made sudden, rapid counterespionage efforts with its own intelligence department to corral our moles. It has proven effective, forcing those in the network not eliminated to go quiet. The Bastille lives up to its ruthless reputation.
“What we do know is that the force is large enough that if it were headed anywhere with a recognized border, it would be considered an act of war. Our rough estimates are that they’re sending two expeditionary platoons with an armor group in support, and some impressive flyover, but the ruin is far enough away from the Union border that the Guild’s own private forces would be a great boon.”
“Thank you, Horatio.” Godwyn said. “So should we meet them pound for pound? These are the Bleak Marshes.”
“That’s not advisable, sir.” The first general said, standing again. “The old notions regarding the Marshes are going by the wayside. The expeditionary force is close enough to the Union frontier settlement of Ulid’s Burrow that an armed response into that area would be as effective as a declaration of war, with us as the aggressors.”
Godwyn rubbed his eye vigorously. “Do you think the Lich Corps would be able to handle this job? This is a little large for about three hundred convicts with suspect combat training and a penchant for wanton destruction.”
Horatio stood up and spread his hands, “Sir, I don’t see where we have any other alternatives. This Guild offer does have a clock on it, and they’re more than happy to commit some strike troops to the fight.”
Godwyn tipped his cup of kaffe up and found it empty. He put it down. He was really going to hate the papers in the morning, especially if he did nothing. He sighed, “What was the last research packet on the Magi relics?” He had to decide if enough innocent blood had been shed on both sides. The Lich Corps gave the Republic of Gloriana an impressive level of plausible deniability. They were a group of prisoners of every race unleashed on a small objective in armor that had been floating around surplus for months if not years. Nothing tied directly back to the Republic if the mission was a failure, and in the cases of success, the gains were not inconsiderable.
The arbiter stood up and put his hands on the polished wood of the desk. “The Union has attacked one of our Void Belt installations, and but for the fact that we can’t place them at the scene, they are beyond reproach.
“Tomorrow news of the destroyed station and the lives of one hundred and forty-four people will be disclosed. The public outcry could be enormous. It’s not great secret to anyone in the Three Jewels—least of all the citizens of our own nation—that the Union has been testing us, poking us, trying to emerge the dominant power on Hyperia.”
Godwyn looked around, “I for one, don’t want the Union’s shadow to cover any more territory than it has already claimed.” Patriotism aside, there was more than one continent on Terrasti and the great Duraumite Empire of Sullentina would see any threat to an elven nation’s well-being as an excuse to being another Reclaiming. One in a long list of worries that kept him up at night despite his doctors’ best efforts.
“I will not let them think they can strike at us with impunity. We will strike back at them. This shadow war with the Union has gone on long enough. I don’t merely want another unknown attack from the Lich Corps that the world at large will be ignorant of. I want a contingent of Rangers to make sure the corps succeeds.
“The people are not going to accept another between-the-lines strike against the Unions. They need to know that the government will protect them.”
The collection of generals and other military personnel stood and nodded to the arbiter.
“I want options by the morning. Horatio, what’s our clock?”
“Assuming that the Union has no trouble deciphering the Magi system of language and magic, a week at the earliest, but definitely less than a three weeks.”
“Ladies and gentlemen. Our work is cut out for us. I will see you in the morning.” Godwyn stood again and the assembled council filed out.
♦ ♦ ♦
Godywn entered his apartments. His wife was asleep; he could hear her snoring softly. He move to the service on the coffee table and poured himself a single slim finger of whisky, the good dwarven blended. Some people liked single malt, and he had no qualms with them, but they were wrong.
“I’ll take some of that if you’re offering.” Horatio said from the shadowed corner.
“Void and fire,” Godwyn cursed softly. “I thought you spies only did that kind of shite in the movies.”
Horatio tilted his head and held out his hand. Godwyn pushed the highball into it. The spymaster swirled the liquid around and sniffed it appreciatively. “Gandy VerDarren. That’s Federation whisky.”
“Well, they’re isolationists, but they’re greedy little isolationists. As long as they can launder the foreign profits from their great auditors then it counts as power for the sake of their weird little nation.”
“If you need something smuggled and the Guild won’t do it, you go to the Feds.” Horatio agreed. The spymaster took a sip of the whisky and put the glass down on a coaster.
“Thank you, the missus would be upset with me otherwise. Why are you here, Horati
o?”
“Mmm… very good speech.” The spymaster inspected his thumbnail.
Godwyn fixed his spymaster with a piercing gaze, “Thank you…” he said slowly.
“A nice little ultimatum in the guise of a swell of patriotic pride.” He casually put a hand over his heart.
“Not everything is a ploy, Horatio.”
“Certainly not…” Horatio smirked.
Godwyn sat down across from the other man. Holding out a hand to give him the floor.
“However, it seems to me that it was designed to shunt the higher-ups in our governing council into pick your side or not. If they come out against you and are found wrong, then they’re as good as blacklisted.” He took another sip. “But, if you are found wrong, the only thing you’ve done was commit criminals, criminals we’ve already disavowed, to an abrupt end of their sentences.”
The spymaster rubbed his thumbnail with the tip of his fore finger, holding the hand up to his mouth. He stopped suddenly, continuing his train of thought, “At first the committing of the Rangers to the field seems like a personal ante, some skin for the game. It’s not though is it, Haraius? The loss of the Rangers would be unfortunate, but a small force of special operators in the Bleak Marshes, things happen, don’t they?”
Godwyn sat with his face a mask betraying nothing.
“So, you’ve set it up that if you lose, you at least know who in the higher echelons of the Republic doesn’t support your administration, and this hardline anti-Union platform of yours. The only way for someone to win is not to play, and you know a zoo full of political animals just can’t resist the call of what looks like you making a risky wager.”
Godwyn smirked and raised his glass, knocking back the rest of the nightcap, “Congratulations, Horatio.”
“Just appreciating a prime card when it’s played, sir. You can count on my support, of course. I serve at your pleasure.”
“Good to know,” Godywn stood and placed his glass on the service, “see yourself out. I imagine there is someone’s wife who misses you.”