Spineward Sectors 03 Admiral's Tribulation

by Luke Sky Wachter

  Reluctantly, a warrior in the back of the group (not the initial Lancer she had instructed to return his weapons) brought the Primarch a large demon sword and scythe-shaped knife, the ones logged in the ship’s armory as having been taken from the Primarch during his capture.

  “I could kill you with these weapons, and none could stop me,” the Primarch said evenly, causing the Lancers all around them to stiffen and the tethered pilot to raise his hands and slowly back away to the limits of the line attached to his body.

  “I have not wronged you or yours,” she spat contemptuously. “Not only would you fail,” she continued, pointing to the sword in her hand, then tossed her chin to indicate the Honor Guards around her, “but the very attempt would brand your people the honorless swine they are,” she sneered. “But if that is your nature, be true to it, and prove the futility of our bargain!”

  “Your mate destroyed my ship, and many Sundered died at his command,” Glue rebutted, “that not nothing.”

  “I have personally slain more of your kind than my Protector, if that is the root of your grievance,” she snorted. “Do your worst,” she challenged, turning her back on the Primarch and continuing down the hall. “I have a ship to capture, Star Bandits to kill, and no time for your games.”

  There was no sound of movement behind her. “Fight, flee or join, but do it now, as my patience wears thin,” she snapped, refusing to look back.

  Feet started thumping behind her. “I must take your words to my people,” Glue said smacking his lips together, “I cannot take such decision entirely myself.”

  “Be gone, then,” she said coldly.

  “Glue will be back, whatever the decision of his people,” he promised.

  Akantha shrugged, and when one of her Guard made a sound of protest, “Let him go,” she ordered giving a toss of her head to indicate she could care less if the Primarch stayed or went.

  The oversized demon creature gave a regal nod of his head and turned abruptly, heading back the way they’d just come.

  “What an evil-looking brute,” remarked one of her Honor Guard as soon as the Primarch was out of earshot, “good that it is gone.”

  “It claims the need to speak with its people,” Akantha said with a shrug, “perhaps it will return.” She shrugged again after a moment’s thought, “But perhaps not. Time will tell.”

  “You are too generous,” the lead warrior in the Honor Guard stated.

  “I disagree,” Akantha stopped and turned to stare at the other Lancer.

  “But to offer them citizenship and hold-minor of their own,” he protested heatedly in their native tongue. “The Starborn are one thing; stunted as they are, at least they have the shape and appearance of true men. In the history of our people, it has not been done to truck with demons of any stripe, or to cater to them, whatever the situation.

  “To become a member of an honorable polis with lands to call her own; is this not the dream of every mother past, present and future?” Akantha straightened herself, drawing the weight of her office around her even as she pushed her face into his. “Does she not wish her sons to be given the opportunity to join a mighty war-band, winning fame, fortune and the chance to secure their bloodline into the next generation?”

  “Our world was given to the Children of Men; it was not meant for these creatures,” the Lancer barked angrily.

  Her eyes narrowed. “The Children of Men, whether we hail from Argos, Messene or that foul stain upon the map Lyconesia, will each and every one of us become as less than dust, passing through the gullet of the Sky Demons as they feed the next generation of their foul spawn,” she said, shoving her forearm in the join between helmet and chest. “Everything I have learned says there is no guarantee that the world itself will continue to exist after we are defeated,” she shouted, slamming him against the wall. “World of Men, but you would quibble over a few thousand hectares of land, while everything burns to the ground!”

  She paused and continued coldly, “I no longer wonder why the Mistresses of Men were given dominion over the land holds and all those who reside therein, instead of his Warriors.”

  “Such things are the province of Hold Mistresses and Protectors,” he replied, sounding taken aback by the vehemence of his Hold Mistress, “they are beyond my ken.”

  “Then keep to the Code,” she flared, releasing him, “and let me worry about saving the world entrusted by Men. Focus on your duties as a warrior, if those are not beyond your ken as well,” she finished, glaring at him.

  “Contact,” the voice of Colonel Suffic said coming over the suit-com.

  Akantha opened her mouth, but the sound of blaster fire erupting up the hall cut her off.

  All around her the members of her Honor Guard leaned forward and picked up the pace. The only one lagging behind was the Shuttle Pilot.

  “Messene!” screamed Akantha, picking up the pace until they were moving at a jog. She was eager to meet the bandit foemen on the field of battle.

  “You’re all insane,” yelped the Pilot, forced to pick up the pace or be dragged.

  The hallway ahead became clogged with lancers and there was no way to get to the front without trying to force her way through the massed warriors in front of her.

  “We need to go around,” Akantha ordered imperiously.

  “Yes, Hold Mistress,” a pair of Lancer Guards said eagerly.

  “There’s no way around, you meat heads! We’re just going to have to wait and make sure they don’t sneak up behind us,” said the shuttle coxswain with the tongue that just didn’t seem to know when to stop, glancing over his shoulder.

  Akantha looked at him disdainfully, “This looks like a good spot,” she said pointing to the selected area, as the two Lancers pulled out vibro blades and immediately started hacking a man shaped hole in the wall.

  She’d seen more than her fair share of mentally-deficient specimens of the male half of the species thanks to her Uncle Nykator, and in her considered opinion this parliamentary version might be almost be too stupid to live.

  The shuttle pilot gaped as power-assisted, genetically strengthened arms grunted and strained, using vibro-blades to tear their way through the bulkhead.

  “You can’t do that…” the pilot stuttered, then his voice firmed, “and you’re going to ruin those blades if you keep treating them like that!”

  Akantha blinked her eyes and then shook her head in mild disgust. Turning away, she eagerly watched as the new opening was created.

  As soon as the opening was kicked in, she smiled savagely.

  “Yes! Good work, Warriors,” she shouted and then, before anyone could react, she jumped through the new entrance.

  “Wha-gurk!” yelped the shuttle pilot as he slammed into the wall on the wrong side of the hole and then was dragged through the opening by the force her power armor.

  Realizing she’d forgotten about the little man as soon as she felt the tug on the line, she was annoyed with herself.

  “Keep up,” she snapped harshly, but slowed just enough to let him catch up.

  “No wonder he married you,” the shuttle pilot puffed between breaths as they ran down the empty hall.

  “What?” Akantha demanded, increasing her pace.

  “You’re just as crazy as he is. No wonder he picked you. Probably makes him feel normal,” he muttered.

  “Perhaps I should release you here,” she mused out loud, before stopping and cocking her head. “Right here,” she said coming to an abrupt halt and pointing to a section of wall, “Make a hole,” she instructed imperiously, as only one raised to power can.

  “Yes, Lady,” said the same pair who’d opened the last section.

  “Unarmed in the middle of a battleship, chock full of pirates,” the Pilot said shaking his head from side to side rapidly.

  “Have you ever heard of a Neural Whip?” she inquired, cocking a brow.

  “Wha-what?” he gasped.

  “The way you insist on offering insults like they were ca
ndy, those are rapidly becoming your only options,” she remarked casually, “I am uncertain if heroism in battle will continue to be enough, the way you insist on flapping your fish-like mouth,” she said flashing him a grin.

  He gaped at her.

  “My patience does have limits, you know,” she said just as the pair cut the rest of the day down to the floor on either side of the door. “Stay close or don’t,” she barked, severing the line connecting the shuttle pilot to her with a slash of Bandersnatch prior to stepping forward and lashing out at the silhouette of the door with a power-armored foot.

  “My Lady,” protested several of Tracto-an Lancers as her second kick sent metal flying.

  “Messene,” she screamed jumping out into the middle of the corridor.

  “Blood Guard,” snarled the nearest pirate.

  Decked out in a battlesuit, with diamond and emerald jewels hanging off gold studs littered all over her nose and cheeks like shrapnel wounds, she looked more like a grenade victim to Akantha than a hard-bitten bandit and a single overhand slash of her Bandersnatch cleaved through her foe-woman’s blade and into her helmet.

  Akantha gave her first, still-twitching victim a quick kick, and with a shower of sparks Bandersnatch came free.

  “A little help, Armsman,” yelled a second pirate boarding axe raised over his head, even as he unleashed a stream of blaster fire from the rifle clutched in his other hand.

  Staggering away from bolts slamming into her faceplate, Akantha lashed out with her vibro-sword catching the rifle with the tip of her blade. As suddenly as they’d begun, the blaster bolts ceased.

  Already off balance, Akantha was unable to regain her footing before she was pushed off to the side and out of the way by her Honor Guard as they rushed into the room. Landing on her knees, she snarled, placing one foot under her and starting to get up.

  “Blood-men,” roared a third pirate, a plasma rifle in one hand and a vibro-blade in the other.

  Grimacing with anger even as she struggled back to her feet, Akantha observed as the pirate blocked the blade of one of her honor guard just through the breech, shoulder charged another who’d been giving the 2nd pirate a hard time, and then fired at point blank range, blowing a hole in the face plate of another, killing him instantly when super charged plasma ate through his visor and into his skull.

  Back on her feet, Akantha waded into the fray. An overhand chop with her Bandersnatch cut through the hand of the 2nd pirate’s boarding axe, and then it was his turn to eat blaster fire in the face.

  Meanwhile his companion, this Armsman, was battling two of her lancer’s at the same time. By forcing them to guard against his Plasma Rifle with one of their arms, he was able to deal with their vibro-blades.

  The second pirate scrambled back, bringing his blaster rifle to bear. Forcing every last erg of speed out of her battlesuit, Akantha lunged forward. Batting his rifle off to the side, one final chop of her Dark Sword of Power ended the bandit’s life.

  Jerking Bandersnatch from his neck took a foot to the chest and a mighty power assisted heave. Task completed, she was able to get back in the battle. By this time, the bandit Armsman had two of her Honor Guard backed into the break in the wall and no more of her Lancers were able to get into the fight.

  “Blood!” screamed the Bandit Armsman stabbing one of her men in the leg and slashing a deep score in the chest of another.

  “We’ve got 'em now, Armsmen,” hollered an unarmored Pirate, “Blood Gua—,” that was as far as he got before tasting Bandersnatch in all its black metal with sparkling crystalline beauty.

  Jumping forward, Akantha came at the highly-skilled Armsman with a massive overhand chop of her vibro-blade.

  Angling his blade, the Armsman shunted her overhand strike away and to the side. Now facing three opponents, the Bandit was forced to scramble taking first one step back and then another.

  Further up the corridor blaster and plasma rifles thundered. Pirates screamed and a stream of bandits started pulling back towards Akantha and her Honor Guard’s position.

  A plasma burst to the chest sent one of her men reeling, knocking the other Lancer’s sword high and wide as the Armsman shoulder charged Akantha, knocking her to the side on his way out.

  “See ya later, chumps!” he called over his shoulder.

  Furious, Akantha scrambled after him on all fours.

  “My Lady,” cried her guards.

  Growling with rage, Akantha ignored them, instead diving forward and aiming for the hamstring. Metal sparked but not from the armor over his hamstring; the Armsman had interposed his blade between hers.

  “Good night, chump,” he snickered, aiming the end of his plasma rifle at her head.

  There was nothing she could do in time to stop her head from turning into a rapidly cooling pile of super heated meat and metal. In that split second, she wondered if perhaps it would have been wiser to stay on the ship.

  Then something whirred over her head, there was a thunk and the exceptionally skilled pirate stiffened. She continued to stare at the barrel of the plasma rifle for several more seconds but the pirate failed to fire. Breaking out of her trance, Akantha rolled to the side and away from the rifle.

  “My Lady has been told before of the need to stick with her Honor Guard,” Colonel Suffic rebuked, kicking over the body of the Armsman and pulling an Imperial style boarding axe out of the side of his head.

  Akantha stiffened at these words and got back to her feet, her mouth a tight line as she refused to say any number of words that occurred to at that moment. After all, it would be the height of poor manners to yell at the man who had just saved her life.

  The remaining members of her Honor Guard gathered round her in circular formation.

  “Are you just going to stand there looking put out,” Hansel Suffic barked, pointing down the hall where the remainder of the bandits where in full retreat, “we’ve many more pirates to kill!”

  Despite herself, Akantha found a grin on her face.

  “Forward,” she ordered, gesturing to her guard with a sweep of the arm and setting off down the hall.

  “And stick with your Guards,” the Colonel called out behind her in a stern voice, before trailing off into a mutter too low for her to follow.

  Akantha rolled her eyes, instead of giving in to the cold feeling that threatened to sweep through her.

  “A Hold Mistress goes where she wills,” she said as grandly as she was able, more to keep herself from giving in to that cold feeling of doom, than because she intended to give her guards the slip.

  Chasing the pirates down one corridor and then another, Akantha and the Lancers left a pile of broken, smoking pirates along their trail.

  “This way,” called Suffic pointing one way while the pirates continued to retreat another.

  “They will escape,” Akantha disagreed, continuing after the Pirates.

  “This way leads to the port side gundeck,” Suffic barked, “all lancers take the starboard corridor and let those pirates get away. We’ve got a duty to the Clover that transcends hot blood and the desire for payback.”

  “World of Men,” Akantha grumbled under her breath, firing one last shot with her blaster rifle before reluctantly turning back the way she’d just came.

  “Don’t worry; they’re not going anywhere,” the Lancer Colonel said a hard note in his voice, “there’s only so many places they can go across this ship. I’m certain we’ll run across them again sooner or later.”

  After letting the heavily armored group of pirate warriors retreat, the going got much faster. Not because they ran into any less pirates, but because the ones they did cross paths with were unarmored and equipped with a variety of hand weapons and only the occasional rifle.

  Carving a bloody swath through the ship, they arrived outside the main blast doors leading into the portside gundeck several minutes later.

  “Breaching charges,” ordered Suffic, “set the timers for thirty seconds.”

  As soon a
s the charges were set, the Colonel ordered them back around the nearest corner.

  Akantha would have complained about running away, but she’d already learned from direct personal experience that standing too close to a charge when it went off could knock a person, even a heavily armored woman in a battlesuit, off her feet and leave a ringing in her ears that lasted for hours afterwards, to say nothing of the damage done to the outside of the suit from being too close to the blast.

  Regardless of ringing ears, the incessant complaints from the ship’s Armorers would have been enough all one their own to dissuade her from doing it again. They were worse than a batch of moldering old women, those ones!

  Someone’s voice echoed over the unit com-channel, “FIVE-FOUR-THREE-TWO-”

  The young Hold-Mistress almost instinctively ducked her head right before the young male lancer got to “ONE” and by “ZERO,” the corridor bucked around her position.

  “Up and at ‘em, boys and girls,” roared Suffic. “It's time to take it to the enemy! I want our forces in there so deep and so hard, they never have a chance to put together an effective respond,” he snapped, and all around her, squads of Lancers threw themselves in through the breach.

  “Clover!” cried the first squad through the breach, unleashing a flurry of blaster bolts on their way in.

  “Don’t stop until you see the back of their pearly whites,” he bellowed, “not until we’ve pulled each and every tooth, right from the biggest turbo-laser down to the smallest point defense cluster!”

  “The streets shall flow with the blood of the oppressors,” raged a wild eyed young lancer.

  “Promethean fool,” the Colonel glared at the young hot-head and collared him, dragging the younger man away from the rest of his shouting formation, “there are no streets on a gundeck, and these pirates aren’t your run of the mill civilian political oppressors back home! They’re not looking to take your civil liberties; they want to kill you and sell others as slaves! Get your head in the game, boy,” he shouted, pushing the young man back into the stream of charging lancers.

  “Sir, yes, Sir,” shouted the young lancer bracing to attention.