They cleared the receiving dock and entered the first of the massive freight tunnels. Their rapid steps echoed like clanging metal as they trotted across the grated floor, a single track in the center for the freight transporter that would normally traverse the 50 meter wide tunnel. Remnants of an emergency fortification barrier, a near solid wall of tilitium that would extend to block the tunnel with crenels, or gaps, that would allow the defenders to fire while protected, appeared before them, having been blasted open. They passed through unopposed, finding the destroyed fortifications every 100 meters or so. Periodically, they would come across a dead guard, a few being the hired private guards currently under their command, but the vast majority wearing the turquoise and florescent green uniforms of Marquis Rostil's Don'Alutia Guard.
“This really is a fortress,” Trent whispered, Sasha unsure if he meant for his words to carry over their communication channel.
“Yes...it's quite common, actually. Traditionalists seem to have the ridiculous notion that everyone is out to get them,” she responded all the same.
“I wonder why that would be,” Trent muttered, sarcasm evident by his tone.
“Probably because they treat their subjects oh so very well, my duke,” she responded sardonically.
“I noticed that...you nobles are such a pleasant lot,” Trent kept up the banter, his response causing a few muffled laughs from their guards that were immediately silenced.
“Not all of us, my duke. Some like to cause their husbands lives to be a living hell when they seem to forget that they to, are a noble,” she bumped him mischievously with her elbow as he stuttered, having once again lost the game Sasha had long ago mastered in her days dealing with Tiana's ever present teasing. They continued on in silence before coming to a massive freight tube station.
“Sir! The tube's are out...we'll need to repel,” Sasha tensed, having never trained in the use of the combat armor's repel line.
“Your Graces...allow one of us to carry each of-,”
Trent locked his arms around her waist and jumped down an open tube. “Hold on!” the warning came too late as Trent's suit locked a repel line, and he bounded down the tube wall like it was second nature. The two Alutia Guards who'd gone first, looked up in surprise as the two nobles appeared in the access corridor that would provide them a route to the main citadel, and Marquis Rostil.
“Sir Seb'Losh...you best hurry or we will leave you and the others behind,” Trent said with little humor.
“Please, Sir Trent...a warning next time would be in order,” Sir Seb'Losh's responded, voice ragged.
“I will promise nothing,” a bit of dry humor crept into Trent’s words. Sasha couldn't help but shake her head; who is this man?
“Sir...is it too late to ask for a transfer?” the random question of an Alutia Guard she didn't recognize caused chuckles to erupt over the com, completely inappropriate for the current situation.
“If it was only that easy, private. Now let's move!” Sir Seb'Losh let the good humor last for a moment, before returning to the serious matter at hand.
The 18 remaining guards funneled down the tube and they quickly hustled through the narrow access corridors intersecting the primary underground transport tunnels. They were huge, with arched ceilings well over 300 meters high, and smooth, dark grey walls on each side of a 100 meter wide, grated floor. The distant lighting created areas of dark shadows where her imagination convinced her hid the hideous alien beasts she had witnessed in her visions of her ladies torment, waiting to strike as they hurried past. But she quickly resolved herself, knowing if her ladies could face such horrors head on, then so could she. After only a few hundred meters they were forced to halt, exhausted Private Guards scattered up against the walls just where the tunnel started to bend.
“Status report!” Sir Seb'Losh shouted, his voice sounding metallic through the combat armors filter.
One of the private guards hurried to their feet. “Sir...they have us pinned. Five repeater arcs on a temp fort just around the bend. They tore through us, sir, before we even had a chance to react...” Sasha could sense the man's sorrow at the losses. A blur moved from her side and at first, she didn't realize who it was, but her mind quickly registered as she watched Trent pickup a few of the blocks that were scattered on the ground near the man's feet; combat explosives.
“Will these bring down the ceiling?” he asked as he started back to her side.
“No, sir...but these temp forts are thicker than the ones we broke through at the dock. We launched a few at the outer wall, but they were of little effect. If we could get them behind...” the Private Guard trailed off. Trent nodded, grabbing Sasha's free hand and placing his combat arc in her palm, then latching the rest of his weapons to her combat armor.
“Will you bring these to me? Or should I ask a guard?” he asked. The question offended her, even though she knew he meant none. Of course she would bring them to him! She would follow him into pits of despair so foul that her conscious mind couldn't believe the strength of the thought.
“Do you have to ask?” she recovered enough to respond civilly, but she knew her tone stiff.
He nodded, then turned to Sir Seb'Losh. “I'll take care of the repeaters. You follow once their down...” Trent instructed, turning before Sir Seb’Losh could respond. She followed close behind, her heart racing with fear and excitement.
“Sir Trent! It's too dangerous! At least allow Grand Duchess Sasha-.”
“Don't even think it Sir Seb'Losh,” Sasha cut him off as they quickly reached the bend in the tunnel.
Trent peered around its edge. “About 50 meters,” he whispered. “I'll go first and take out the repeaters...you follow as soon as you see me hit the wall. Sir Seb'Losh and the rest of the Alutia Guard and Private Guards will follow next,” she nodded as he leaned in, touching his helmet to hers, a sign of a kiss.
“I love you, Sasha...”
“I love you, Trent...be safe...”
Trent leapt down the tunnel.
She leaned out enough to witness his reckless charge. He made it almost halfway to the fortification before the repeater arcs opened fire, sending up tiny plums of debris as they struck all around Trent's feet. He started weaving unpredictably, not allowing the weapons to lock in. A lucky bolt caught him on the knee and he spun out of control, the increased speed allowed by the combat armor causing him to tumble wildly across the grated floor. He recovered in one motion, trying to launch himself forward, but they had him aimed in, pinning him in place.
Every time he stood, five unbroken steams of laser bolts plowed into his gorian combat armor, causing him to roll and tumble across the floor. Sasha forced the distress from her mind, or at least tried, not wanting it to leak into their bond. But the sight of his torment, and the pain that began to trickle into her, was too much for her to handle.
The energy in the repeater arcs near unbroken stream of laser bolts that struck Trent’s impenetrable armor was dissipated by the properties of the gorian alloy, but it was unable to completely absorb the kinetic energy. So even though the suit appeared undamaged by the blasts, the force, or kinetic energy, would still pass through and strike the tender skin beneath like a stiff punch. She still remembered the sight of his skin, covered in more bruises then she thought possible, after their foray on Heclutia, caused by the hundreds of laser bolts that had struck him during the uprising. The current barrage was wearing Trent down, his reactions slowing, unable to regain his feet.
Twenty Alutia Guards rushed past her like the wind. As one, they threw explosives at the fortification, falling back to safety before the repeater fire could track their appearance. A mass of explosions rocked the tunnel, and Sasha thought it may collapse, but it held steady. The fortification lay unharmed, but the repeater arc fire faded just enough for Trent to regain his feet and rush the final 25 meters to its base.
Sasha moved, Sir Seb'Losh and the guards at her back. Her breathing was the only sound that touched her ears as she sprin
ted towards Trent, time slowing when she came into clear view of the enemy, and their concentrated fire, expecting it to turn on her at any moment. But none came. Muffled explosions echoed from just behind the fortification as Trent dropped the explosives through the small crenels that allowed the repeaters arcs a clear path of fire, while protecting the operator. But Trent was so close to the wall that no fire could reach him.
One of the repeater arcs opened fire again, filling the air around her with a continuous stream of laser bolts as Trent stumbled, dropping an explosive on the wrong side of the wall. He dove away as the blast sent up a large cloud of smoke and debris. A pained grunt through the com told of someone falling, but she didn't turn, she had to continue on, she had to reach Trent's side. She slid to a stop, next to Trent's hunched over form, the Alutia Guards swarming around them protectively,
“I'm ok,” he wheezed as another muffled explosion echoed as the final repeater arc fell silent. She handed him his combat arc, the two on her back having been blown to pieces during her mad dash.
“My duke...you did well...” she ran her fingers over his armored cheek, and she thought she could sense a smile.
“For you...anything...” he responded, his words broken as she helped him recover his feet.
“Clear!” Sir Seb'Losh shouted over the com as he slipped through a hidden gap in the side of the fortification, followed by the Private Guards who had rushed forward in their wake. Trent grabbed her hand and pulled her along behind, once again ignoring his injuries. She definitely would have to scold him after they saved the petties, saved her ladies.
Beyond the fortification, away from the horrific scene of death brought by the explosives, they were joined by a group of officers who huddled around a three-dimensional projection of the fortress grounds, hearing little of what was said before the Private Guards moved ahead, diverting down a side passage that lead towards their objective; the administration sector of the fortress.
“I hope they aren't too exited,” Sasha whispered.
“As do I...but I doubt many of the administrators are ignorant towards what Marquis Rostil is doing,” Sasha sighed, knowing Trent was probably right.
They covered the next two kilometers quickly, meeting no significant resistance, and reached their destination; the fortress’s central citadel. From what Sasha could gather from the Arm of the Emperor, the entrance to the dungeon holding Tiana and Vickie directly beneath this building. Unfortunately, she couldn't pinpoint the exact location. So they would have to rely on Vin the Program to lead them to the marquis's location, then learn the location from him by any means necessary.
“Vin! Is Marquis Rostil still here?” she asked the Program in her bracelet.
“Yes, Grand Duchess Sasha Alutia. He is currently overseeing the Don'Alutia Court, or Coliseum as the records refer, preparing for the finale of an entertainment sport called: the Marquis's Labyrinth,” Vin responded through the com.
Sasha paused; the Marquis's Labyrinth.
“The petties...” Trent whispered. That’s it, the petties from Heclutia that had gone missing must have been transported to Don'Alutia to be used for the Marquis's amusement, and now Tiana and Vickie were caught in his horrible game as well.
“Who dare's invade my domain!” a voice boomed through the tunnel as they reached the door that lead into the citadel.
“Who's domain?” Trent didn't yell, didn't scream, just asked calmly.
“Mine! Marquis Rostil! I was presented this Mark by King Zehman! The new ruler of NHA Galaxy 189!” the pronouncement made her tense, then laugh. It was hilarious. This man was absolutely insane and didn't have a shred of knowledge outside his own little world.
“You dare laugh at me?” the marquis shuddered.
“No...I laugh at your idiocy. Duke Zehman is currently on the run from the emperor, who has proclaimed death for him and all who continue to swear allegiance to him. Additionally, King Johan is alive and well. You must leave your fantasy world on occasion, Marquis Rostil,” she responded through her laughter.
“You lie! King Zehman is in Emperor Yuloo's closest confidence! Your accusations are outrageous. You shall soon see what happens to those who question me!” he cut off.
They stood in silence. “Sorry,” she muttered, realizing her childish response too late.
Trent looked at her, his combat armored face masking his thoughts. “For what? I found you handled the situation quite gracefully, my love,” he told, no dishonesty touching his words. She felt his warmth fill her. She loved him so.
“Vin...open this door,” Without question, the massive door began to slide open, and they were greeted by a wall of laser bolts.
*********
The stone walls whined, cracking and grating like they would collapse at any moment, waking Tiana from a fitful slumber. She glanced toward the chamber’s door, finding it still closed. But a dim glow appeared from another wall, a hidden door struggling open in the dank darkness. She tried to move, but found her body stiff, distant, refusing to respond to her will. Vickie stirred at her side, tightening her embrace, pushing her body close in search of warmth. Her cooling touch was welcome, though also warming, forced back the chills that had haunted Tiana’s constant nightmares. But her lascivious hands were not, dragging Tiana's mind clear of the ice cold lake in which it was encased.
“Vickie, we...we need to go...” her voice cracked. She coughed, her throat sore.
“Mmm...a little longer...” Vickie moaned. Normally, Tiana would have sighed, Vickie's words so out of place given their current predicament. But the world started to spin, her head pounding, like she was trapped in a collapsing vortex.
“No, Vickie...Vickie, wake up...” she said a little louder, her voice harsh. Vickie stirred, then stiffen, as if her mind had finally awoken enough to recall their present plight.
“Tiana? Are you all right? How are you feeling?” Vickie asked.
Of course I’m not all right! She wanted to scream. But the pounding in her head continued to grow, her breathing labored. “No,” the only response she could muster. Vickie climbed out of the small bed and studied her in the dim light, a frown appearing on her chapped lips.
“You're flush...and very hot. I think your wound may be infected,” Vickie pushed back the locks of blond hair that stuck to Tiana's sweaty skin. Tiana knew she was referring to her hand, or missing hand. But she didn't actually care, all her will trying to fight off the increasing drowsiness that seemed to want to overtake her with each pulse of the pain that attacked her very being.
An ice cold cloth caressed her cheek, soothing her burning flesh. Another cloth was brought to her lips and she greedily sucked the lukewarm water free, wanting to cry out for more.
“Easy,” Vickie whispered, “if you drink too fast and it gets in your lungs, it could become much worse,” she pulled the cloth away. Tiana grunted in frustration, only to have another gently placed in her lips.
“Do we move or...” Vickie started to ask, or so Tiana thought, her fevered mind making it difficult to discern dream from reality.
“My dear contestants, due to some unforeseen circumstances the final round will now commence,” a voice boomed. Tiana tried to cover her ears, the words reverberating off the walls of the tiny bedchamber, causing intense pain to shoot through her body with every syllable. “Each pair of contestants will have ten minutes to escape the Maze of Confusion, and be awarded the right to face the Wheel of Destiny! The place where the fated one shall be chosen to choose!” the voice continued, which at first sounded disturbed, but quickly returned to the normal boisterous ring that had been present when she first heard it on their arrival, when they were condemned to this horrible place. “Good luck to you all...and all our lucky gamblers...” the voice trailed off.
Vickie pulled Tiana to her feet. She swayed, moaning her complaint, her mind screaming to lay back down and sleep. But Vickie's careful grip held her steady, forcing Tiana's healthy arm around her neck.
“I'm sorry, T
iana,” Vickie said as Tiana cringed in pain.
“It's me who...who should be...bee sorry. Let's go,” Tiana wheezed.
They moved into the narrow, dimly lit tunnel where the two of them could barely stand abreast. Her injured arm brushed against the wall as she swayed, causing piercing pain to explode forth, making her vision blur.
“Left,” a kindly voice instructed in her mind.
“Left,” she repeated.
“Who?” Vickie whispered as they turned left at a split.
“Straight, but crawl after the right,” the kind voice sounded much clearer.
“Straight and...” Tiana started.
“...crawl after the right...” Vickie finished.
They did as the voice ordered, crawling slowly after they past the tunnel diverging right. An unbroken stream of laser bolts shot out of the walls just overhead. Tiana's fevered mind barely registered the sight, or the danger they were in, it being frozen in time. But when the voice appeared within, through her BC Node, or so she thought, she felt refreshed, exhilarated. She had a sudden urge to grasp her necklace. The gorian one she was gifted by Trent.
“It sounds so familiar,” Vickie whispered as they climbed back to their feet and continued forward, the tunnel becoming darker, the air becoming dense, dank.
“I know...” Tiana forced out a response.
“But, it’s like...it's like two voices...” Vickie continued. The idea penetrated her mind; two voices.
“Left, then right. Stop and wait for it to pass,” the kindly voice instructed.
A single thought appeared in Tiana’s frozen mind. “It's Sasha and Trent,” she whispered.
Vickie stuttered to a stop. “That's impossible...how?” Vickie muttered in disbelief.
“I don't think it's actually them,” Tiana continued, her mind starting to clear. “But maybe...maybe something that transferred when we...” the thought lay unfinished as a revolting stench burned her nose and eyes. A peculiar squishing sound came from the darkness ahead, moving slowly towards them. They stayed utterly still, doing as the voice had instructed. A gelatinous-like creature came into view, similar to the one from the first stage, passing within a meter of where they stood. But it didn't sense their presence. After a moment, the sounds, and thankfully, the stench, passed as well.
The Noble Petty, Complete Edition (Alutia Rising Series, Book 2) Page 71