by Z H Brown
The colonel stood at the front of the room with ramrod straight posture. He surveyed the troops assembled before him with small turns of his head. When his gaze reached Ansaria, she saw the artificial eye widen than narrow. In the quiet of the room, Ansaria could almost swear she heard the buzzing and whirring of the machinery in the replacement body part. After examining his troops, the colonel squared his shoulders and began.
“We don’t have much time before the operation begins, so let’s get to it,” his voice was deep, commanding and confident. Here was a man used to having things done his way.
“First of all, to our new members, I am Colonel Arnor Fornost; I am the captain of His Majesty’s Royal Guard, and responsible for ensuring his- and your- survival. While I intend to keep all of my soldiers alive, we must never forget that our purpose is to serve and protect the Emperor, and sometimes the only way to do so is by making the ultimate sacrifice. If it came down to it, I would readily trade every life here, including my own, for our lord.”
Ansaria wasn’t sure if she was supposed to respond to that, so instead stayed quiet. Slightly behind her, she heard Slog gulp.
Colonel Fornost continued. “Now then, here is what we’re up against.” He stood to the side and the lights dimmed. The screen he had been standing in front of suddenly came to life: a map of Imperial space was displayed, before quickly zooming in to the Milalthrus system. “Our forces have traced the source of the recent rash of sabotages to this system. It has one habitable planet, currently occupied by a Siladon Industries facility.” The planet in question was displayed on the screen.
“However, the target we shall be engaging is here,” the screen changed again, this time showing the large asteroid Ansaria had seen earlier. “While members of Shield Fleet under Admiral Travay subdue the planet, our ship shall continue to this asteroid. Our scouts have detected a number of anomalies coming from it; the perfect hiding place for some sneaky, Goldie bastards to hide.
“Preliminary scans of the asteroid show several large, hollow pockets.” On the screen, pieces of the rock began to flash red, three in total. “Three separate forces shall be ‘ported in to these locations: two comprised of Imperial Army forces, the last the Royal Guards under the Emperor himself. Once we’re inside, we are to neutralize any opposition we find and capture the ones responsible.
“Now, while we will all be going in together, the Emperor has some special instructions for some of you,” he turned his gaze to Ansaria and her squad. “Sergeant Tread, you shall be leading a small group dubbed Ion Squad. Your task will be to neutralize any dangerous machines or computers that we come across that cannot be disabled in other ways, since that seems to be your forte. Sergeant Alvara, you shall be responsible for the corporals in your group, but otherwise the three of you shall be part of the main attack force. As for Captain Dormus, the Emperor would like you to join him on the bridge beforehand.”
Ansaria could feel her face flush, but wasn’t sure what she could say. She hadn’t been expecting yet another private meeting with the Emperor, especially not on the eve of battle. She was a little worried about her squad being split up for the attack, but she was confident that they would be able to hold their own. Besides, they would be fighting with the Royal Guard, the best soldiers in the Empire. If they couldn’t keep her troops safe, then who could?
Ansaria nodded at the captain-of-the-guard to show she understood. Fornost nodded back.
“In that case, if there are no questions, let’s get ready. The fleet will be jumping within the hour, and I want all of us locked, loaded and on the platform by the time we do. Let’s move it people. For the Emperor!”
Ansaria watched the readout speed through the decks as her lift took her to the bridge of the Throneship. Part of her was still in total disbelief about where she was and what she was doing, as though all of this was a dream that she was going to wake up from at any moment. It wasn’t that long ago (just a handful of days, actually), that she had dreamed of fighting on the frontlines, leading her squad into battle for the glory of the Emperor and the defense of the Empire, but she had never thought that she would become an apparent confidant to the most powerful person in this part of the galaxy.
The lift slowed to a halt and the doors slowly opened before her. Ansaria stepped out into a familiar and yet still foreign place. The last time she had been here, she had been too worried about informing Xandarius of the danger he was in to really admire it. The work stations that surround the circular wall were all manned as they had been last time she was here, though the green Prizmid that had suffered a breakdown had been replaced by a young bipedal male with large, curved fangs.
A low drone of activity filled the bridge as Ansaria approached the Emperor. The crewmembers were all busy with their pre-jump preparations, checking and double-checking information. Xandarius was seated in his high-backed throne, staring out of the transparent dome of the bridge. As Ansaria drew closer, she caught sight of what Xandarius was looking at: the black void of space with its uncountable stars, obscured by an array of Imperial vessels preparing to jump not too far from the Throneship’s position. There were three large capital ships, surrounded by half a dozen smaller vessels.
At the head of them was the flagship of the fleet, the Dragon's Shield, belonging to Admiral Travay. The vessel was almost identical in shape to the Throneship, though about a third of the size. The next capital ship, identical to the first, was called Razorclaw. The last and furthest from them was ovoid, sleek and smooth from this distance; Ansaria guessed that it was the one called Hard Shell. The smaller vessels, being frigates and cruisers, were the same shape as the flagship, though only half as large as the admiral’s ship.
Xandarius seemed to know that Ansaria was there, as he turned his head slightly to acknowledge her. “It’s not a true war fleet, to be sure, but it should suffice for reclaiming a single colony. The real question: who will have the tougher fight: us, or Shield Fleet?”
“Sire,” said Ansaria before she could stop herself. “Forgive me, but I must know: why am I here? I don’t mean why I am taking part in this assault- that I know- but why am I here with you when my squad is getting ready with the rest of your guards?”
Xandarius studied the fleet before answering. “Because captain, you have done what few soldiers could: just one of the tasks you and your forces undertook would be beyond what most of my troops could handle, and yet you not only triumphed over them, you did it while keeping your entire squad alive. I know that you think of yourself as just another soldier, Captain Dormus, but the truth is that you are quite extraordinary, and I would be remiss if I did not keep you nearby to make use of your unique talents and abilities.”
Ansaria mulled this over; while it partially answered her question, she still had a nagging feeling that the Emperor hadn’t told her everything. Before she could say as much, one of the bridge members spoke up.
“Sire,” said the fanged officer. “Admiral Travay sends word her fleet is prepared to jump.”
“Our own jump preparationssss are complete asss well, Your Majesssty,” added a large insect officer.
“Excellent, we shall jump as soon as Shield Fleet is away,” replied Xandarius, settling back in his throne.
Ansaria pushed her lingering questions to the back of her mind. There would be time enough for them once this detestable business had been concluded.
The black expanse of space was suddenly bent by a swirling tunnel of purplish-black energy. The assembled Shield Fleet eased into the opening, the capital ships leading the way with the smaller vessels following. Once the last ship had entered the warp, it snapped shut behind them.
“Commence jump,” commanded Xandarius.
The purplish-black swirl of Z-space reappeared, this time directly in front of the Throneship. The bridge viewscreen was filled with the other-dimensional passageway, the purple and black energy obscuring everything else. Even Ansaria, who had been on the bridge of smaller ships as they'd jumped into Z-s
pace, was awed by the sheer size of the void. The massive vessel accelerated into the gap, which collapsed behind them.
The trip through Z-space was brief. A few seconds of swirling purple and black energy was suddenly replaced by an entirely new scene as the ship returned to normal space. Whereas before their ship had hung in empty space, far from any star, planet or other celestial body, now their view was obstructed by countless space rocks ranging from tiny to immense and, largest of all, the massive asteroid where their enemy lay in wait.
An alarm began sounding on the bridge.
“Weapon systems detected; they’re targeting us,” alerted the cybernetic weapons expert.
Xandarius said nothing, his gaze locked on the abode of his mysterious foe.
Even with the viewscreen cluttered with innumerable rocks, Ansaria could still make out movement beyond. On smaller rocks orbiting the largest ones, weapon arrays were being deployed. Laser cannons, some of them so old that they had been decommissioned before the war with the Imperium had started, rose slowly up. More modern turrets were also revealing themselves, as well as a few missile pods.
The opening salvo came from all directions. Red, purple, and even some gold energy beams lanced towards the Throneship. At least two dozen missiles were fired at them, streaking behind the laser and plasma weaponry.
Some of the attacks were intercepted by the ever-present asteroids. Multiple floating rocks were disintegrated as energy beams collided with them; at least three large ones were pulverized by missiles that had blindly struck them. The weapons that hadn’t been intercepted by the debris field were stopped cold by the ship’s shields. The protective energy field rippled and glowed as the barrage struck the ship head-on. Ansaria felt only the tiniest tremor shake the deck; the only evidence of the attack that could be felt on the ship.
Before another salvo could be fired, the weapons expert spoke again. “All targets are locked on, awaiting your order, sire.”
Xandarius remained silent for a single moment before saying: “Fire.”
A cosmic storm of purple-tinted plasma erupted from the Throneship. The mighty vessel’s weapons were more powerful than anything arrayed against them. Rocks that floated in the way of the attack were disintegrated, none of them diminishing the blasts in the slightest. The beams ripped through the weapon emplacements, turning them into clouds of ash and powdered rock that were quickly swept away by the force of the barrage.
When it was over, the view of the area had been cleared significantly. Every turret and defense had been obliterated, and while their main target had been grazed in the attack, it had done nothing more than strip away a few feet of rock.
“All targets destroyed, no additional weapons detected,” said Tantius. Xandarius rose from his throne. “Excellent, then the time has come for us to engage the enemy personally. Come, captain.”
Xandarius strode over to the lift with Ansaria close at his heels, and as he waved his hand over the wall panel its screen lit up green. A moment later, a lift larger than any one Ansaria had ridden in opened to receive them.
After the Xenlongians stepped inside, the doors closed and they were away.
“This is my private lift,” said Xandarius. “It possesses a priority override that shunts any traffic in our way to another line; that way I can get to any part of the ship nearly instantly.”
Indeed, the trip seemed to last but a few moments before the lift slowed to a halt and the doors opened at their destination. Two Xenlongians were awaiting them, one on each side of the door. One of them was Guard Captain Fornost; the other was a male just a bit older than Ansaria. They both saluted as the Emperor briskly walked out of the transport.
While Ansaria and Fornost fell in line behind the Emperor, the other Xenlongian walked quickly beside him.
“Your Majesty, I have a report from Admiral Travay: ‘We have tried contacting the Siladon executives, but have received no reply. We have eliminated the facility's defenses and have begun landing troops.’”
“Excellent,” said Xandarius. “Inform the admiral that I want regular reports on her progress, and that she is to inform me immediately of any major discoveries.”
“By your command, sire,” said the Xenlongian before heading back to the lift.
Xandarius, Fornost, and Ansaria made their way forward into a large atrium. Inside was a sea of ivory white armor as the Imperial Royal Guard stood awaiting battle. Ansaria quickly spotted her squad amongst the group, as well as the immense mech she had seen outside Xandarius’ quarters. A large panel on its chest had been retracted, revealing the owner of the suit to be the large, green slug Ansaria had seen at the briefing.
Well, that’s one mystery solved.
The eyes of the assembled elite followed the trio as they made their way to the head of the congregation. Since Ansaria had not been told to fall in, she remained with the Emperor. Once Xandarius had reached his place, he turned to speak to the group.
“My loyal soldiers of the guard,” he began, “Today, we shall embark on a mission of justice and vengeance. For too long, this mystery foe has attacked, wounded and insulted our great empire from the shadows. Now, we shall face our enemy openly, and we shall drag them into the light and make them face their crimes!”
The Emperor’s speech was met with resounding cries of ‘for the Empire!’ Even Ansaria could feel her chest swelling with pride and excitement at the coming battle.
She, Xandarius and Fornost stepped forward to stand with the rest of the group. Ansaria hadn’t noticed before that there was a control booth near the platform where a Xenlongian technician, assisted by a spindly-limbed bot, was making final preparations. “Since this is your first experience with teleporting, Captain Dormus, I should warn you…”
The technician threw a switch, and an overwhelming white light began to fill Ansaria’s vision. A high-pitched whine also started pressing against her ears.
“…the first time can be a little--”
“—disorienting.”
Ansaria’s world had turned upside-down, inside-out and topsy-turvy. The stupefaction lasted only what seemed like a moment, but the effect it had on her mind and body lingered. She nearly collapsed to the ground, but instead doubled over and supported her hands on her knees. Her stomach felt like it was trying to force itself up through her throat, and she clamped her eyes shut and focused on her breathing. After a few moments, she felt like she had regained some of her composure, and risked opening her eyes. Her stomach gave a nauseous lurch, but she was no longer in danger of keeling over or regurgitating her meal. With her body now somewhat back to normal, she was able to take in her surroundings.
She was standing in a rocky cavern, with a massive roof high above her. Metallic plated illuminators were set into the walls, their bright light making it possible for Ansaria to see the roof of the cavern high overhead. Three tunnels, their openings receding into darkness just a few feet in, led to other parts of the asteroid.
Xandarius was standing next to her, watching as she recovered from the teleport and examined her surroundings. Behind her, the Emperor’s Royal Guards were silently arrayed in their lines. Alvara and Slog had both been hit hard by the teleport, but like Ansaria they had managed to stay upright and keep their meals down.
At first hearing only silence, Ansaria suddenly became aware of a sound slowly and steadily building in tempo. After another moment, she began to feel a vibration coming up from the floor through her boots. Her mind put the pieces together just as Guard Captain Fornost spoke.
“Enemy contacts detected! All forces, take up combat positions!”
Like a finely honed machine, the Royal Guards split up to cover the three tunnel openings. Ansaria saw Tread, along with a mish-mash of machines and organics covering the far left opening. The large bot with the cannon for a head stood behind Tread’s group, its single, red eye peering steadily into the darkness. Alvara and Slog, along with a third of the others, were guarding the tunnel to the right. Standing between An
saria’s squad mates was a combat bot that resembled a walking Xenlongian skeleton, with a leering metallic grin and a pair of luminous red eyes.
Xandarius remained where he stood while the rest of his forces covered the middle tunnel. A trio of Xenlongians stood behind the main group, none of them with weapons drawn. Behind them stood Guard Captain Fornost, his armor gleaming dully in the light, his lance held at the ready.
By this point, Ansaria could hear the noise better, and was able to make out what it was: the tramping of dozens, if not hundreds, of heavy, metallic boots echoing off the cavern walls. The floor quaked as the enemy force rose closer and closer.
Suddenly, within the tunnel ahead of her, Ansaria saw a swarm of glowing, red lights appear, the coming army having just turned a corner within the dark passage way. No sooner had she registered the appearance of their enemy that the voice of Guard Captain Fornost rang out:
“Contact! Open fire!”
A cacophony of plasma, laser and ballistic weapons filled the high-ceilinged cavern. Ansaria, standing at the back of the arrayed force, had a marvelous seat to the display. Purple, red and pink beams streaked into the darkness, briefly illuminating the tunnel and their enemies before the blasts struck their targets, adding the glow of exploding machines to the light show. Ansaria could only see brief glances of their attackers, but what she saw was enough to fill her with dread.
Renos…hundreds of Renos.
Tread and Alvara’s forces had also opened fire, their own tunnels swarming with the deadly androids. Tread fired with his plasma cannon, the boiling hot ball slamming into the torsos, limbs and heads of his synthetic opponents. Alvara was expertly sniping the enemies, removing their heads, destroying their hands before they could use their deadly finger beams, and tripping them up by taking out their legs. Slog was unloading with his plasma shotgun, the white-hot balls of energy sending whatever target it hit flying back. The skeletal machine standing between them was unloading with a snub-nosed, rapid-fire plasma gun.