“We got shot down,” Tamerlane growled. “And now we need to get out of here before the Sand Kings come looking for their prize.”
The last survivors of the mission clambered out the emergency exit hatch. They constituted a motley collection of dark-red-uniformed Lords of Fire troopers that had originally flown in aboard the transports, alongside khaki-clad Nizam Legion soldiers who had made it back from the earlier failed assault. Tamerlane and the two pilots followed them out.
As soon as their boots touched the rough, sandy surface of Ahknaton, they realized they were not alone. A squad of dusty, dirty, well-armed soldiers who didn’t look terribly happy were standing there, weapons at the ready. Their faces were covered with makeshift masks, either to hide their identities or, more likely, to filter out some of the cloying dust that filled the air after their ship had come crashing down.
It took a second before Tamerlane recognized the underlying khaki of their damaged uniforms. When he did, he relaxed a bit and smiled. “Very happy to see you all again,” he said.
The Nizam Legion’s refugees recognized him and lowered their weapons. “General!” a couple of them shouted. One added, “Welcome to Ahknaton!”
“Not sure how welcome I actually feel,” Tamerlane muttered under his breath. He started to turn and address the men behind him, when suddenly someone practically shoved past him. He looked up and saw that it was Elaro.
“Where is Arani?” the big man demanded. He grasped the nearest soldier and pulled him closer. “Where is the Colonel? Is she alright?”
“I’m right here, Major,” came a feminine voice from just ahead. “And I’m fine.”
The dusty ranks of khaki parted and Colonel Niobe Arani pushed through, followed closely by Inquisitor Delain.
Elaro reached out and grasped her in a bear hug, actually lifting her a few inches off the ground in the process. The others looked on and some offered a lewd comment or a wolf whistle. Arani started to protest but then gave in halfway through and just went with it.
Tamerlane moved forward and gave Arani a hug, too—albeit a much more restrained one. Somehow, despite the appalling losses they’d both suffered, seeing her alive—and Delain, too, of course—made things ever so slightly better. As he separated from Arani he gave the young Inquisition woman a wink, perversely enjoying the raised eyebrow and overall look of bemusement this produced on her face.
“We don’t have much time,” Tamerlane said once the greetings were done. “They’ll be coming out here to check on their prize. We have to move.”
Arani nodded. “How many more ships are left?” she asked. “Where are they?”
Tamerlane’s expression was grim. He shook his head.
“All gone?” The colonel stared back at him, blinked, looked off into the distance. “I can’t believe it,” she said.
Tamerlane nodded. “We’ve made a lot of sacrifices to get here,” he said bitterly. “To get this far.” He ran his hand back through his dark hair; bits of gray had begun to appear there in recent weeks. “We have my flame power, and our combined forces, but...” He shook his head. “I just don’t see how we have enough manpower or firepower left to do any damage at all to Rameses.”
“If it’s manpower—and firepower—you need, General,” game a familiar, deep voice from behind him, “then look no further.”
Tamerlane whirled. Elaro drew his pistol, ready.
From around the other side of the transport strode General Arnem Agrippa, his white and green plate armor scuffed and smudged and a battered quad rifle strapped over one shoulder. He saluted and flashed a wicked grin. Behind him came the rest of the Bravo Squad, similarly armed and attired. The tops of two hovertanks could just be seen in a depression beyond the nearest hills.
“Oh, yes,” Arani laughed as she addressed Tamerlane. “I neglected to report—General Agrippa arrived just before you did.”
Tamerlane restrained himself from wrapping the big man in a bear hug—or at least attempting to. He grinned back and extended a hand, clasping Agrippa’s warmly. “So—you made it,” he said to the blond man. “From...wherever you’ve been.”
Agrippa snorted a laugh. “Honestly, General, I have no idea where we’ve been, or how we got here, beyond just walking through a whole lot of lights and clouds.” He chuckled. “But it worked, so I’m not knocking it.”
Still smiling, Tamerlane nodded. “I take it you experienced the same problem with the Aether we did.”
“If by ‘problem’ you mean deafening, skull-splitting white noise, then yes,” Agrippa replied. Arani nodded as well.
“This is problematic,” Tamerlane said. He paused and bit his lip for a moment, thinking. “Then again,” he said, “if we play it correctly, it could also be very useful.”
Agrippa brightened. “You’re assuming our enemies can’t communicate, either,” he laughed.
“Precisely.” Tamerlane cast his gaze across the soldiers gathered there, doing a quick estimate of their force size. Barely over sixty, all told. Not overwhelming numbers. But, he reminded himself, with certain distinct advantages, including Agrippa’s men with their armor and their tanks, his own powers and whatever Delain could now do, the highly trained I Legion specialists he’d brought, and the skills of Arani’s Nizam troops... It wasn’t as entirely hopeless as he’d first feared.
“The first thing we need to do,” he told the soldiers as they gathered around, “is move. Right now we’re sitting ducks. Rameses will surely dispatch ground troops to look the wreckage of our ship over.”
“You would think so, General,” Arani said, “but actually, I suspect something has their whole army distracted.”
Tamerlane frowned at her. “Distracted? What do you mean?”
She shrugged. “I’m not really sure, sir,” she said, “but they withdrew back into the city right after pulling that first ambush on us. They never followed up to be sure they’d gotten us all.”
“I’m glad to hear they’re so incompetent,” Elaro interjected with a grin.
“They aren’t,” Tamerlane stated firmly. “Not normally.”
“And then,” Arani continued, “from the time we took up this position, we haven’t seen much in the way of patrols at all. I don’t know what’s happening inside the Heliopolis, but something is, and it surely seems to have everyone’s attention in there.”
Tamerlane nodded. “Nevertheless,” he said, “we don’t want to take any reckless chances. We have this one transport still intact. We can probably fit everyone aboard and launch an attack by—”
“An attack?” Arani asked, surprised. “You still want to attack the Heliopolis? Sir?”
Tamerlane started to answer angrily, then caught himself. “Colonel,” he said after a moment’s pause and calming himself, “the situation across the Empire is grim. There may be no one left to offer us reinforcements, and we may not be able to penetrate this far into Rameses’ defenses again.” He turned to gaze across the short distance to the walls of the Heliopolis. “We have to seize the opportunity while we can.”
“Agreed,” boomed Agrippa. “Also, note that we have few other options at the moment.” He gestured toward the crashed transport craft.
Tamerlane nodded grimly. “That’s true. Each of the avenues our three groups took to get here is now closed. And with the Aether jammed, we can’t even call for help.”
“We need none!” Agrippa patted his quad-rifle as the servos within his Deising-Arry Mark V armor whined. “We will hit them hard and fast and decapitate the leadership before they know what’s happening. After that, the Sand Kings will surely collapse, leaderless.” He shrugged. “I daresay a small, efficient strike team can succeed where a larger force would fail.”
Arani reluctantly nodded.
Tamerlane smiled at his big blond friend. “You give us all hope, Arnem. Thank you.” He turned to Arani. “Colonel, if you would have your troops—”
Lights flared across their location. At the same instant the sentries outside cri
ed out and then were silenced. The whine of a turbolaser washed over the little camp.
“They are here!” came the shouted voice of one of Arani’s sentries. “The Sand Kings are upon us!”
5
The meeting broke up instantly, with everyone dashing for cover. Tamerlane positioned himself behind a low patch of brush and stuck his head up very briefly, just long enough to get the lay of the land.
Soldiers—a dozen, at least, in ornamental, Egyptian-style armor of red and blue enamel over gold metallic sheen—were advancing on their position, coming up the hill. Apparently they’d taken a more circuitous route and avoided the gaze of Arani’s sentries until they were directly upon them. They were carrying energy lances and void swords along with their standard, snub-nosed blast rifles. As they climbed the sandy hill they opened fire again, murderous blasts streaking past the Nizam, I and III Legion positions all around.
“They’re coming!” cried someone from the ranks of Arani’s soldiers, stating the all-too-obvious.
Arani cursed quietly. Her hopes had not come true: Rameses’ forces were moving in to investigate the downed ship, and she and the others had been caught, sitting ducks. She turned to face her troops and issue orders, only to hear a wordless cry of fury just behind her. She spun back around just in time to see a Sand King in desert-camouflage smartcloth cresting the hill and swinging a deadly, curved void sword at her. The shimmering blade tore through the air with an unearthly wail, only to stop in its arc suddenly as a blast caught the warrior in the shoulder and spun him backwards, dropping him to the sand.
Arani, her pistol in hand, rose up to engage with the wounded enemy, but another Sand King moved in almost instantly, his own gun in hand, aiming.
A shape moved past her then and she realized it was the person who had shot the first attacker. Titus Elaro brought his energy rifle up and blasted a shot at the second enemy, but missed as the man dodged. A split-second later they were clashing hand-to-hand, Elaro wielding a short, straight, broad-bladed knife and the Sand King striking back with a wicked, long, curved dagger. The Egyptian-styled soldier drew first blood, the tip of his weapon nicking across Elaro’s face. Then, as Arani looked on in surprise and wonder, Elaro executed a series of moves she had never seen before, culminating with a finishing blow that almost eviscerated the enemy.
Where did he learn that? she wondered. Certainly not in my camp...
Arani fired a shot past Elaro at a third enemy soldier who was approaching through the sand. The big man nodded at her and grinned, even as blood dripped down the side of his face.
Who is this man? Arani wondered, not for the first time since meeting him. Why does he fascinate me so—and give me such pause for concern, too?
At the same moment Elaro was battling the Sand King, Tamerlane turned to address Agrippa, but the big blond man wasn’t there. Suddenly a whoosh of air, carrying with it the force of a small hurricane, nearly knocked him over. Looking up, he saw one of the hovertanks cruising by, its gun turret already swiveling around to face forward. Agrippa stood atop its forward deck like some Viking prince at the bow of his ship. He called down to Tamerlane as he went by, “We are jamming all radio frequencies! If the Aether is still blocked—”
The rest of his words were drowned out by the roar of the tank’ engines, but the general got the message. There was a chance this Sand Kings patrol had not been able to report their presence to their superiors. The element of surprise might still exist for Tamerlane and his expedition.
The Sand Kings formation, a moment earlier advancing confidently up the hill, now came apart at the seams as Agrippa’s tank opened fire with its anti-personnel cannon, the smaller barrel situated to one side of the main gun. Rapid-fire, high-energy blasts cut the Sand Kings down where they stood. Those few who somehow managed to avoid the initial assault suddenly found themselves face to face with a huge, white-armored warrior bearing a heavy quad-rifle with one arm and wielding a short, broad-bladed gladius in the other hand. Agrippa roared and fired and swung his sword and the soldiers of Rameses, shocked to the core, fell before him like wheat before the scythe, most of them dying where they stood before they could even think to retreat.
Tamerlane couldn’t let Agrippa have all the glory. He spotted two enemy soldiers running back down the hill, likely toward their hidden transport. If he was guessing correctly, they’d realized they had no Aether or radio comm connection and were hurrying back to the Heliopolis to report the armed intruders in person.
Can’t allow that, Tamerlane thought.
Raising his arms, the General summoned up the fires of the Above that he now commanded and unleashed a stream of flame that arced overhead, curved down the hillside, and struck the two Sand Kings, surrounding and washing over them. Their uniforms combusted, as did their armaments a second later. Frantically the two men flung their superheated weapons away—the energy lances promptly exploded— and tore at their uniforms, rolling in the sand to put out the fires. By the time they managed to snuff out the flames, Arani’s Nizam soldiers were upon them.
The fight was over scarcely seconds after it had begun.
“If that’s the best the mighty Rameses can offer,” Agrippa chuckled, “my estimation of our chances has increased.”
“Let’s not get carried away,” Arani noted as her soldiers finished binding the arms of the two surviving Sand Kings. “That was just a patrol—not the palace guard.”
“Very true, Colonel,” Tamerlane said grimly. He motioned for the troops to gather around. “Nevertheless, I believe we stand a good chance if we strike hard and fast.”
“When?” asked Elaro, blood still trickling from the wound across his forehead.
“There’s no time like the present,” Agrippa said with a grin.
“I wholeheartedly agree,” Tamerlane said. “And I know what I can expect from each of you men and women.” He turned to Delain where she stood silently off to the side, her black hood nearly obscuring her face. “Sister,” he said, giving her a respectful nod, “what I don’t fully know yet is what I can expect from you.”
Delain raised an eyebrow. “The Grand Inquisitor has assured you that my loyalty—”
“No, no,” Tamerlane interrupted, holding up a hand. “That’s not precisely what I mean,” he said. “I know we can count on you. What I don’t know is what we can count on you to be able to do.”
The black-clad woman gazed back at him, not understanding.
“For instance,” the general went on, “I know you possess knowledge of all Imperial holdings. I assume that includes Rameses’ Heliopolis complex.”
Delain nodded once.
“Excellent.” He paused. “I also assume you, like the Grand Inquisitor, gained some sort of extra-normal ability during our journey through the Above and the Below. But, in your case, I’ve never learned what that is.” He smiled. “Now would be a good time to address that.”
“Ah.” The black-clad woman stared back at him for a long moment. Then she reached up and drew back her hood, exposing her delicate features, her red lips, and her long, black hair. She appeared to consider her response for a second. Then, “Your assumption is correct, General,” she said. “In fact, I do believe I have been and can continue to be of great service to this mission. Because, as it turns out, my abilities tend toward obscuring from detection.”
“Obscuring—?” Tamerlane absorbed this. He blinked. “You mean...” He paused, thought it through, and started over. “You mean you have the power to keep us hidden from—”
“Hidden from Rameses’ scanners, sensors, and the like,” she completed for him. “Yes. I have been doing so since we arrived. It seemed a wise course of action.”
“That’s why we haven’t been crawling with Sand Kings from the moment we landed,” Agrippa noted, his eyes widening as he gazed at Delain. “Well done, Sister.”
“What about the attack we just faced, though?” Arani interjected. “Why were they able to spot us?”
“I assume t
hey were simply a patrol that happened upon us,” Delain replied. “I cannot make us completely invisible to soldiers who are standing only a short distance away and looking directly at us. But I can—”
The air around them became electric, a pressure wave expanding outward from a point nearby and nearly knocking everyone over. Sister Delain’s statement would remain unfinished, for at that moment the fabric of reality split open and the swirling mouth of a dimensional portal opened a mere dozen meters from where most of them stood.
Weapons were raised, cover was taken. Such actions would not prove to be necessary. For only a lone figure—a woman clad in luminous white robes—stumbled out of the churning eye of the dimensional storm. She fell to all fours on the sand and the portal snapped closed behind her, disappearing as if it had never been there.
Tamerlane and Agrippa rushed forward and helped the woman back to her feet. Everyone stared at her, attempting to discern exactly who she was. Her hair was so light as to be almost white; her robes were diaphanous, floating about her in a seemingly weightless fashion. Her lips were pale, her skin porcelain. No one recognized her.
The woman looked around, her bright, sparkling eyes practically shimmering. They radiated an otherworldly energy, as if they were almost entities unto themselves. First they fell upon Tamerlane. “Yes,” she whispered, “yes, I have found you. There is still hope.”
The general had no idea what to make of this. “Who are you?” he asked, his voice as kind as he could make it, given the stressful circumstances. “Where did you come from?”
Her eyes continued to move across the others, those scattered survivors of the Lords of Fire, the Kings of Oblivion, and Tamerlane’s secret Nizam Legion. “No sons of Mother Earth,” she whispered. “I have come in time.” She laughed a humorless laugh at that. “In time!”
“What are you talking about?” Tamerlane asked, attempting to hold his voice level and even.
“They will be upon you soon,” she whispered, her eyes moving from Tamerlane to Arani and back. “But they are not the main threat.” She laughed again. “Oh, far from it!”
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