A Guiding Light
Page 6
*****
“Fighters fall back, I repeat, fighters fall back!” ordered Marius as he and his Wing roared into battle. “We’ll soften them up for you and then you can finish them off, out!”
The delta wings flew in a linear formation, their plasma weapons blazing, the robots shields flaring and dying. Still Marius did not relent, utilising his vastly superior speed to turn and rake the robots again.
“Okay boys,” he transmitted, “they’re all yours! We’ve got bigger fish to fry!”
Once more the delta wings formed up on his lead and this time they powered on towards the waiting mother ship.
*****
Arshavin had been surprised by the firepower exhibited by his enemies, but not overawed. It was time to put an end to this. He sent out a short mental command and drop pods began to deploy, augmenting his forces on the planet’s surface.
Another command, sent a beacon spinning outwards from his main ship, its pulsed signal designed not to control his current forces, but to call for reinforcements. He knew that his earlier preparations would now bear fruit. The two drone ships he had brought with him would arrive shortly and this battle would reach another level.
*****
“Marius…” came the soft voice, reverberating inside the Captain’s head, a quick glance showing no radio activity.
“Yes, my Lord,” responded the Captain, his senses still focused on the burgeoning attack run on the robot’s mother ship.
“Abort your attack on the ship, I will take care of it,” Marius began to protest, but he was quickly cut off, “No arguments. The protection of our landing force is of paramount importance. Take your Wing and give covering fire. We cannot allow these robots access to the treasure hidden below. Do I make myself clear?”
“Crystal, my Lord,” replied the Captain, already beginning to transmit new co-ordinates to his Wing, “We won’t let you down!”
“I never doubted that for one moment, Captain. Now …” the voice trailed off, and Marius saw the new ships dropping out from fold space.
“My Lord!” he exclaimed.
“You have yours orders, Captain!” snapped Walters, abruptly cutting off communication.
*****
Shan had followed his instructions to the letter, his flagship, the Spiteful Dawn, led a fleet of plague infested vessels on the trail of Walters and his men. The beacon drawing on Walters, had also guided the Tauran Adept. Its pure light and chorus of song had inflicted some pain on Shan’s corrupted ears, but pain was something he revelled in.
They had quickly decimated the Church fleet, their unexpected attack had converted many before any resistance could be mounted. His new brothers had gleefully joined in the destruction of the few die-hard Immortals, and his now putrescent ships followed their new God faithfully.
Surprise he thought would be on their side, the Churchmen would not be prepared for the overwhelming Tauran attack. His new connection with his God gave him many things, but unfortunately for him, prescience was not one of them.
The jump directly into an ongoing space battle would not have been his most fervent wish, but he quickly adapted, ordering rapid deployment of his new ground forces and driving the Spiteful Dawn and her sisterships straight at the heart of the engagement.
*****
Walters snarled as he recognised the abhorrent taste of Shan’s followers, corrupting the ether. His eyes flashed as he turned to face Berbatov.
“We seem to be outnumbered, Sargeant!” he said curtly.
Berbatov only grinned and gripped the staff of his halberd more tightly, “Which one’s mine?” he growled, unconcernedly.
“The Taurans,” responded Walters, smiling at his ever ready Sargeant, “take Uther and the rest of his men with you. I will personally get you to their flagship; the rest is up to you.”
“Just how I like it!” replied Berbatov, before turning and barking orders to his men.
Lower Atmosphere
Diadem
Unassigned Space
Viker grunted as the pinnace shuddered under fire, it seemed that their enemies were already aware that they were coming. Jones, as did the other non-commissioned officers, shouted at their men, forming them up and making sure that their motivation was at its highest possible.
The pinnace landed, its door slamming open and with a roar the infantry charged outwards. From the rear of the craft, a ramp slapped to earth and the Eyotalian’s armour poured forth, their battle cannons speaking almost as soon as they touched the dirt.
Making as if to follow Leftenant Krantu, Viker felt a touch on his shoulder; it was Johns.
“You’re with us, son,” shouted the Corporal, above the intense noise of laser and cannon fire.
Looking up, he saw the Leftenant nod, and Viker raced to join his old squad, who waited expectantly.
Outer Reaches
Diadem
Unassigned Space
Walters stood beside Berbatov and looked over the waiting men and Immortals. They had not questioned how he was going to get them on board the enemy’s vessel nor the force they would face once they got there.
“Call me, if you need me,” he muttered to Berbatov, and then began, drawing in the energy from his surroundings. A green pin-point of light formed, rapidly expanding as he opened the portal. Not waiting for its full formation, Berbatov leapt through, howling his battle cry, which turned into a full-throated roar as his men followed
*****
Things were going to plan, was the smug thought flitting through the Shan’s mind, as he saw how heavily he outnumbered the others’ forces. His men had already started their descent to the planet below and now it was his turn to deal out pain and suffering. He smiled and moved to issue his attack orders when all hell broke loose. The ship itself seemed to scream in pain, as though it had been dealt a mortal blow, its alarms sounding more like cries than warnings.
Not being sure of what was happening, Shan called for answers, even as the first of his men began to die.
Chapter Ten
High Orbit
Diadem
Unassigned Space
“James!” shouted Walters as he checked the position and deployment of his new enemy.
“My Lord!” responded James, breaking off from his conversation with Arn.
“I want everyone in those transports on the ground as quickly as possible. Make sure it happens,” and then seeing James’ hesitation, “right now, Major!”
“And what about you my Lord?” asked the Major, obviously concerned.
“I think that I can take care of myself,” replied Walters, a grin on his face, “and anyway, Berbatov is no doubt already well on the way to removing the Tauran’s threat. Thank you for your concern, now please can you do what I’ve asked?”
Nodding, James was already scurrying on his way towards the launch bay, his mind engrossed in his new problem.
“Okay,” said Walters, turning towards Arn, “let’s take care of these robots, shall we?”
Spiteful Dawn
Diadem
Unassigned Space
Berbatov was not in fact on top of the Tauran problem; their arrival had been a real surprise and initially they had made huge advances, easily slicing their way through Shan’s undead army. Now, however, things were just a little bit stickier as the plague infected ship itself turned on them.
Corridors melted and changed, catching Berbatov and his men unawares and revealing new pockets of enemies, this time led by the newly converted infectees. This in itself did not give Berbatov undue pause, but when vile and viscous fluids spat from the walls, hissing and burning against armour and boiling flesh, he began to lose his patience.
Walls which already had appeared diseased now seemed to enter into a new and deadly virulence as boils and pustules grew and erupted, showering over the unsuspecting soldiers. Webs of a tarry black phlegm spat outwards and stuck, allowing the zombies and their masters a more easier target. All
of this was evilly coordinated in order to inflict the maximum damage.
Green eyes flashing, Berbatov’s normally bellicose nature had reached new heights and his rage took over. Instead of waiting for his enemies to show themselves, he began to strike indiscriminately at the structures around him. His halberd sliced cleanly through the putrid miasma facing him, the ship shuddering in response.
With a snarl he opened a portal, revealing one infected Immortal and a group of his undead followers. Powering forward, his weapon as light as a feather in his hands, he took his revenge. The Immortal’s corroded armour could not withstand the force of his blows, huge rents and holes appeared with each strike, the stench of death hanging heavy in the air.
The fact that they had visible targets also seemed to energize his men and explosive rounds flew, weapons sang and they killed in the glory of Walters’ name.
Outer City
Diadem
Unassigned Space
Viker and his fellow soldiers were pinned down, but were at least holding up the robots as they pushed forwards. The Eyatolian armour was laying down a ferocious barrage, smashing articulated limbs and pounding silvery bodies. They were taking casualties though, and with each passing moment more of the infernal machines appeared.
Walters’ men’s objective seemed no closer and their frustration was mounting.
*****
“Our mission is to provide covering fire and also to prevent any of these creatures from reaching the tower,” explained Marius over his radio circuit, as he calmly destroyed the falling drop pods, “the more we take out, the less our boys have to deal with down there.”
He and his Wing were damaging severely the robots’ reinforcements, each sweep, each pass they coldly and clinically blew apart more of the constructs. Perhaps it was not the most honourable nor satisfying task, but having seen the potential damage the robots could cause, he certainly felt justified in his work.
*****
Major James and his men had begun their deployment, the first of his troops were down on the ground now, using the pinnace as their homing beacon. He had forestalled the idea of drop pods and instead had decided upon the slower troop transports; what they lacked in speed, they made up for in quantity.
Even now, the first of his men and armour were on their way to join Krantu’s advance forces and he was beginning to believe in their probability of success.
*****
Shan himself had decided to lead his forces in their assault on the city below. With no thought for any potential losses he may incur, yet rather thinking only of victory, he had used every means within his command to get his men on the ground.
The disposition of the robotic soldiers and Walters’ men were of no concern, he had sent sufficient troops, or so he thought to take care of them. No, his one and only priority was to take the tower and recover the object his Master had so clearly expressed a desire for.
Grinning evilly, he saw the first of his troops smash to earth and engage his enemies, whilst his craft raced towards the tower itself.
Spiteful Dawn
Diadem
Unassigned Space
The breach Berbatov had carved out of the disgusting walls of the corridor, proved to be extraordinarily useful. Where his halberd had touched, the ship’s reaction was to draw away. Festering wounds became cleansed and the now corroded metalwork once more appeared. This brought a steadiness to the previously revolving scene of conflict.
Leading his men forwards in a concerted rush, Berbatov smote the foulness of his enemies. His men followed, pistol rounds exploding already rotten chest cavities outwards, melee weapons tearing through disgusting limbs and once dead Churchmen, stayed dead. That still left the transformed Immortals to deal with, and Berbatov took that fight personally.
Each time one of them appeared, he would hold back his own men and stride forward, his halberd whirling with blinding speed. Cuts from their infected weapons did not heal fully and even began to suppurate, but the big man ignored them all. His blade and its cleansing energy struck and smote, cut and cleaved. Fountains of pus-filled gore sprayed through the air, bloated flies withered and disease ridden bodies fell.
Shan had misjudged the ability of both his men and his ship and in leaving them to face Berbatov alone, guaranteed their demise.
Outer City
Diadem
Unassigned Space
James saw the lone craft as it roared across the battlefield, a black trail of smoke blooming from its rear. At first he thought that it was damaged, that either Krantu’s forces or even the robots had struck it. This changed though as he saw the inky cloud fall to earth, its tendrils reaching out to consume both robot and man where it touched.
He saw shiny metal instantly turn a rust-brown colour, before crumbling into dust. Men melted in front of his eyes and it was then he realised that the foul craft was in fact intact, healthy even, but clearly a carrier of the diseased and twisted health that a demon-follower was blessed with.
The Major was too far away to do anything more than watch, but just when he thought that they had failed, he saw three dots appear high in the sky. Their indistinct shapes firmed up as they raced forward at an incredible speed, bearing down on the Tauran craft. They were delta wings, and James’ spirits lifted as he realised that all was still not lost.
*****
Marius and his Wing had quickly ascertained the disposition of enemy forces and were powering their fighters forwards to aid their embattled troops. It was then that the Captain noticed the lone craft as it streaked towards the city and the tower itself.
“Okay boys, you go and help our guys out,” ordered Marius, his eyes still fixed on what he now thought of as his prize, “I’ll take care of our infectious friend.”
His Wingmen waggled their wings in response and peeled away, transmission via his command circuit reassuring him that the rest of his Wing would soon join them. Wasting no time he increased the power to his engines, quickly eating up the distance between his delta wing and his prey.
*****
“What is it?” snarled Shan, as one of his men tried to attract his attention, he had been busy enjoying the wonderful destruction caused by the moist cloud raining down on the ground below.
He did not wait for an answer as he could see the readout and the constant bleep of a target lock. Smirking to himself, he moved over to the control station, ready to deal with the approaching fighter. A Champion of a cursed God had his own arsenal, weapons bestowed to him by his Master. The effects of which were gloriously wicked.
Waiting for his targeting system to lock was an annoyance, but immediately on seeing the reticule turn green, he savagely activated the control sequence.
Laughing and cackling, the possessed missiles were launched. Their shells constantly reforming as the blisters grew and then burst, a stream of rot and debris falling behind them as they flew.
*****
“Shit!” muttered Marius, as his systems announced missile lock and he broke off his attack run, jinking and weaving his fighter in an effort to shake the abhorrent projectiles.
They followed his every move though, their possession allowing them to anticipate his actions and still close the distance. One looping move, brought Marius’ fighter around to face them and he fired his own spray of missiles and plasma. Whether it was skill or pure luck, his efforts were rewarded with the destruction of one of the objects; a cloud of greeny brown smoke announcing its extinction. The other, though, bored onwards towards Marius’ hurtling craft.
*****
Shan could see they were getting close to the city now, as what had once been an indistinct shape, now took on individual form and substance. Buildings, towers and spires in dark glory appeared before him and he raise his hands in jubilation. Nothing could stop him now.
*****
Marius eventually resigned himself to the fact that there was no way to rid himself of the demonic missile. Once he had accepted th
at fact, he decided to ensure that at least one part of his mission would be fulfilled and, ignoring the projectile behind him, targeted the perpetrator of the attack on his fighter.
Eyes squinting in concentration he chased the horrid craft down, the strident beeping that warned him of an imminent impact ever louder in his ears. He knew that he would only get one shot at this and he was determined that it was going to be a good one. At last he was close enough and he fired everything that he had; plasma, autocannon and Spitfire’s streamed towards Shan’s vessel.
Then levelling out his delta wing, he did the only thing that was left to him to do. As the alarms in his cockpit began one long ululating tone, he punched the ejection sequence and prayed.
*****
The Tauran Adept’s reverie was rudely interrupted as plasma beams scored his craft, burning through superstructure and tearing searing holes in his engines. Autocannon rounds peppered his wings and his own defense systems failed in their pre-programmed routines. With a huge roar and a gout of gigantic flame, one of Marcus’ missiles destroyed Shan’s engines, causing the craft to pitch and yaw and then tumble towards the waiting earth.
Shan screamed in frustration, he had been so close to an easy victory and he lashed out with a huge hand, crushing the half rotten bones and flesh of one of his followers. Feeling somewhat better, he looked towards the uprushing ground and became calm. He and at least some of his men would survive this and then they would complete their objective on foot. All was not lost, at least not yet.
*****
Viker saw Marius’ craft hit and the subsequent strikes against Shan’s vessel, somehow they had just been given another chance and he meant to take advantage of it. He knelt and opened his arms in prayer, his thoughts clear and precise as he made his request. Then he waited.
High Orbit
Diadem
Unassigned Space
Master Arshavin smiled to himself as he recognised the signatures of the arriving drone ships. Now, he could show these Churchmen and the recently arrived and overly corrupted Tauran forces, what a member of the intellectual class could do.