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Marina's Ring
Laser Control Node
Despite being surrounded by a high wall, with electrified triplines topping even that, the building holding the gas laser control center was a fairly unassuming one. Take away that wall, and it looked like any other Archon Varedas had seen since coming to this ringworld. Given what it housed, however, he had little doubt that its own walls were made of tougher, military grade materials, and not the civilian materials. And it had already fallen to the enemy.
Smoke curled into the air from the remains of automated guns, and the thick metal gate lay crumpled where it had been blasted open. Bodies of guards lay smoking also, though he only made the assumption they were guards because their bodies were too charred to be recognizable. Their killers now stood in their place, two standing tall and alert, large scutums held at the ready and heavy rifles scanning the area, two more kneeling beside them, hiding behind their shields with their rifles ready to fire. Their armor was bronze and black, accented by red in a fashion that tugged at the Archon's memory, but he couldn't quite place it. The armor looked more ceremonial than functional, which only meant that it was more functional than it appeared. He had little doubt about that, too.
He was viewing this from a hundred meters away, using the enhanced optics of his helmet to take in the situation. There was a ping in the corner of his HUD, then a tap on his shoulder, in case he missed the helmet announcement. He turned to see Alimia, who was only distinguishable in her helmet due to her size, directing his attention to her pad. It showed a thermal image of the node building, and though he knew it would be lit up like a log during Yule, he hadn't expected parts of it to be blood red.
"What in the name of the Maker did they hit it with?" He asked silently, though he needn't have bothered since it was on internal, close range comms only.
"Radiation levels are high, but rapidly dissipating," was the response.
"They
nuked it?" He asked in disbelief. He turned back to look at the building, switching his optics over to thermal. Heat rose off of it in rapidly expanding clouds of orange and red, with hints of the deep blood color Alimia's image had shown.
"Possibly, though not directly," she replied.
"Proximity detonation?"
"That would be my guess, Archon. Not enough to slag the entire building, but enough to fry whatever was outside defending it."
"Well that's just prime," he muttered. "We're proceeding with even
more caution now. You've told our friends of this?"
"Yes, Archon. I sent them a copy over the secure line once I made my discovery." There was a rustle of movement, and Rachenia walked towards them in a crouch. Varedas switched a different channel so he could speak with her, as he had not given her access to their private channels.
"Troublesome," was all she said.
"We'll just need to get close to them before they can fire any more nukes at us. They wouldn't dare use them up close."
"You hope."
"I pray."
Aulus Gratius Calvus, newly appointed Decanus of the quintus contubernium looked to his duty of guarding the entryway of the captured building with pride. To him it was an important task of keeping those who would retake the building at bay. It was something he impressed upon his men as well, three of whom stood with him here. The other four were further in, protecting the front entryway should he fall here.
He scanned the distance vigilantly. Though the heat and radiation from the pilum obscured some of his suits internal sensors, it did not affect them all. There were times he thought he saw something, or the sensors picked something up, but when he looked further, or asked one of his men to confirm, neither he nor they saw anything. Once the area was clear, he was certain he would be proven correct.
His certainty was shattered as a spear of white hot pain shot through his body. He tried to speak to his men, to call out an alarm, but every breath was an agonizing flame. Alarmed, he dropped his rifle and brought his hand to his throat. He pulled away his hand and saw bloody on his fingers. Someone had actually shot through the breach between his helmet and armor. Through dimming eyes he saw his men responding to his plight, only to be gun downed themselves by unknown assailants. As the life slowly drained from him, he saw figures emerging from the surrounding buildings, buildings he and others had searched but found no one. He could only hope the rest of his men lived long enough to raise the alarm.
**********
Starship Berth
The guardsmen placed in the terminal where the Arcadian Order vessel was docked had been told at the start to keep watch for any suspicious behavior. However, in the months since it had arrived, it had done little more than sit there like some great, black, warbird. When the alarms began sounding and the sounds of battle could be heard in the distance, the soldiers on duty had expected to open the shutters to the docking bay and see the warships gun ports open and its turrets swinging to aim at them. It had not, and in fact it had been silent since the attacks began.
A handful of guardsmen remained at their posts, the others having been called off to assist in the repulsion of the invaders. When the hatch leading to the ship slid open, it came as a surprise to all those on duty. When a towering, heavily armed, armored form walked out of the entryway, they were worried. When they heard a knocking sound, the figure stiffening and immediately moving to the side to let a shorter, slimmer armored figure past, they weren't quite sure what to think. The shorter figure, dressed in black armor and tabard, turned to stare at one of the guards on duty through blue slits. There was a clicking noise and the figure reached up to remove the helmet.
Long, blonde hair spilled out, and the woman peered at the soldier with eyes of a darker blue. "Sergeant?" She asked. He could only nod. "Excellent. Mind if we fortify this position? I don't know about you, but I'd be rather put out if my ward was to suddenly find itself surrounded by hostiles. No trouble? Good, good. Artificer?" She hadn't given the native any time to speak, talking over his barely verbalized protests. A third figure walked out of the hatchway, or tried to as the hulking Order trooper stood in its way.
"Move you bloody big ox," the man said forcing his way past the soldier, turning an accusing finger on it and wagging it at the unfazed form. The newcomer, too, was wearing armor, though less bulky than even the unidentified speakers, and no helmet.
"Artificer?" the woman repeated.
"Hmm?"
"What do you think?"
The man took a look around the terminal, scanning every surface detail with a trained eye. He then turned slightly to take in the armored shutters on each side of the hatch. He repressed a shudder. "Terrible, simply horrible. Maybe if we parked a tank in here and used it for cover we could work something out. Maybe two tanks, one for each access point." He took another look at the shutters that looked out upon the great dock and the ship attached to it. "Make that four, with two of them on their sides and bolted to the windows."
"Make it work," the woman said simply.
"Will do." He placed a comm in his ear and spoke into it. "Empty the armory boys and girls, we have us a bunker to build. Bring the tables from the mess hall if you have to. If the cook complains, remind him who supplies his secret stash." The Artificer took another look around the terminal. "If we could use parts from the-"
"No," the woman said harshly, spinning to face him. "I will not be the one to explain to Archon Nerim why his command module is in pieces when he returns." The Artificer gave a resigned sigh and shoved his way past the armed statue to make his way back into the ship. "Combat engineers," the woman said with her own resigned sigh, "can't live with them, can't win a war without them."
"Excuse me…" the guardsman sergeant said, breaking her train of thought.
"What? Oh, sorry. Archon of the First Rank, Mikaila Salwyn, at your service. We're going to help bolster your position here so it, at least, doesn't fall. Immediately of course. I'm sure it'll fall eventually unless the attackers are pushed back." She saw him give a worried look to one of his fellows, the rest of which had joined him when she and her entourage had entered.
"Why?" the sergeant asked finally.
"Tradition, mostly. It'd be inconvenient if our hosts fell and we did nothing to help them. Also, orders." She jerked her thumb back at the ship behind her. "We don't let its position get compromised, no matter the cost. So, in case who's ever in charge of this invasion gets it in their head to come this way to see the shiny outsider ship, they'll find it has tiny, tiny teeth waiting to bite him."
"I'm not sure I can accept such a proposal, Archon," the sergeant said. She smiled at him. A warm smile that also hinted at an edge.
"I can accept your position, Guardsman, but from what I can tell you have little choice in the matter. I
will force myself on your if I must, but I'd prefer your assistance without too much trouble. I can be quite persuasive, Sergeant, and not all of it is pleasurable." Her hands went to her hips, where two heavy pistols were holstered. The guardsman looked at the towering figure behind her.
"How many can we count on?" He said.
"If I drained the ship of every able body trained to fight, which is everyone, upwards of two-fifty. I won't do that though, and you'll see soon enough why." The sergeant looked at his fellow soldiers again. They all nodded.
"Very well. On behalf of her Imperial Highness, we accept your assistance."
She smiled again, and turned to her companion. "Warden, prepare the troops."
**********
The Palace
At the first sound of trouble, Advocate Nerim dragged the two not-quite-ceremonial guards in from the hallway outside the suite assigned to their delegation, then had the Wardens and the two guards pile furniture in front of the doors. Not that it would stop a dedicated assault, but for now it would suffice. After a discussion that only partially involved the two natives, the five Order soldiers decided on a course of action. Now the four Wardens sat around a table going over their limited inventory of weapons, due to their current position as guards only. Angeline came out of her room carrying two oversized cases.
One she dropped next to a Warden, the other she tossed onto one of the remaining chairs. Then she began to strip. When it became clear she wasn't going to stop until she was fully nude, the two guardsmen immediately faced away from her, staring at the pile of debris now blocking the door. The Wardens didn't react in the slightest. She pulled on the padded body glove she drew from the case. As she brought it up over her chest, she turned her back to her companions and looked over her shoulder at them. "Warden," she said simply.
One of the men finished putting on his gauntlet, stood, and walked over to her. He brought the two halves of the material hanging off her shoulder together and held them there as he ran his hand down her spine. The padded-armor garment sealed against itself. "Thank you," the Advocate told him. He returned to his work. "You can turn around now gentlemen," she spoke to the guards in an offhanded manner. They did, but they still avoided looking at her, as the black material conformed tightly to her body. Fortunately for them, she began donning armor she took from the case, though she seemed to do it with a deliberate slowness.
Finally she attached the belt that held her pistols to her waist and pulled the unadorned surcoat of her office over the armor. The Wardens stood ready, having completed their tasks, their carbines at the ready. She looked over each man and nodded satisfactorily. "You know what to do?" she asked.
"Yes, Advocate," they replied in unison.
"Very good." She focused her gaze on the guardsmen. "Show them where they need to go, gentlemen. May the Creator speed you on your journey."
The assault on the palace was swift and deadly, though fighting still resounded through its many levels. Unfortunately one of the first places to fall was the Empresses throne room. Guards and a number of retainers lay in bloody pools along the once clean floors. The invaders placed their few dead in a neat line, waiting for a time to take care of them properly. The leader of the team responsible for capturing the Empress ordered his men to remove her and the survivors to the private audience chamber behind the throne. The leader removed his plumed helmet to gaze at his captors. His eyes stopped when they fell upon the Empress, who stared defiantly at him from the chair he had allowed her to take.
"I am Centurion Gnaeus Vedius Aculeo, and you have the honor of speaking to a representative of the glorious Eternal Empire of Rome." His gaze fell upon one who stood out among the ringworld inhabitants. "You are not a native of this habitat."
Archon Argus Nerim, seated on the floor, looked at the Roman soldier standing above him, then at Gnaeus. The Roman commander nodded his head, and the soldier stepped aside. Argus stood, straightened his tabard, and bowed. "I am but a humble priest," he replied in soft tone, "here to spread the Word of God to heathens." Some of the surviving retainers shot a hate filled look his way.
"A man of faith," the Roman said, giving a bow in return, if not as deep as the one Argus gave him. "I can respect that. Keep to yourself, Fetial, and I will see to it that you return to your people in safety."
"As the Centurion commands," Argus returned with a bow, and took his place on the floor again.
The sound of metal scraping against tile flooring was the first sign the Roman soldiers had of her presence. Some of them stood, bewildered, as they watched the large, black case slide and come to a stop halfway down the hall. Turning from the case to where it came from, they were surprised to see a woman standing at the entryway. Her curly black hair shone in the light of chamber, and she was giving them all a crooked smile.
"Hello boys." She walked into the hall at a deliberate pace, slowly increasing her gait. As the Legionaries moved to face her, bringing weapons to bear, she broke into a run and launched herself at one of them. She dove onto her hands, flipped herself into the air, spun and slammed her shin into the nearest Legionary. She knew it wouldn't topple him, not in his armor, but it did what she needed to and staggered him. She landed, grabbed his gun arm and used strength and momentum to whirl him around behind her. She got him in place between her and his comrades just as they opened fire on her.
Continuing her movement, she came out from her protection with heavy pistol in hand, took aim and squeezed off three shots. Each successive shell hit one soldier in the same spot, each bullet giving off a small explosive right before the next one hit, weakening then blasting a smoking hole through the armor until the third bullet hit flesh beneath, its explosive tearing into the Romans body. She fired off another trio of consecutive shots and took down another man before stopping her spin. She let go of her human shield, letting momentum skid his corpse along the floor.
She didn't stop moving, instead dashing towards another, shoving her fist into his chest. A muttered incantation sent the Roman flying backwards as her fist struck, crumpling armor and bone beneath and crashing him into a wall. She crouched, reached behind her, pulled out a foot-long, carved object and twisted around. Blades came into existence from each end of the object, first appearing as clear energy, then solidifying into dark green, almost black metal, shrouded in a faint silvery light.
She sliced through the shield of a Legionary, reversed the blow and sliced off his arm. She spun away from him, brought the sword to her waist and stabbed him through the chest while he was behind her. She removed the weapon, twirled and beheaded him. Gauss rifles roared. This time she shoved away the soldier, placed her free hand before her, erecting a barrier that shimmered violently with each impact of the magnetically accelerated spikes.
With that hand she made a slashing motion, and an invisible strike carved a smoke gash sent a Legionary to his knees before falling forward. When the incoming fire relented, she dropped her barrier and rushed headlong into the fallen soldiers comrade. She leapt into the air, curled into a ball and barreled into him, knocking him onto his back, she landing on her knees on his chest. She raised her eldritch weapon above her head and brought it down upon him, stabbing him through the helmet and burying the weapon deep into the floor.
With her sword as leverage, she rolled off him, drew her other pistol and fired another trio of shots into one of the remaining Legionaries. She then yanked the blade from the dead soldier skull and threw it like a spear at another. The weapon penetrated through his upper arm and drove him back into a wall, pinning him there and making his weapon useless. She fired three times and ended his life. Slowly she stood and faced the remaining Roman. He was on his knees, shield held before him, rifle aimed at her from behind it. She holstered her gun.
"This is over, witch," he said.
"Yes, it is." He reacted, but she was quicker. Her arm shot up and the air rippled before her, faint traces of blue-white energy crackling through it. It knocked the Roman back just as he fired, the attack knocking his off center and making it miss. The roar of the gauss rifle resounded before his finger left the trigger. She stepped over him, standing above him with her foot placed on his chest, surprisingly strong and keeping him from moving. The last thing he saw before the blackness hit him was her crossing herself.
From his position on the floor, Argus watched the Centurion as he switched between talking to his prisoners and confirming with his subordinates and compatriots on the outside. The man had not replaced his helmet, instead he was seemingly talking to himself and he spoke into some hidden communicator. At one point, he saw the Centurions face crease with irritation. Argus wondered what he was hearing, and he wouldn't have been surprised to hear that the Roman officer was receiving reports of two separate points of resistance within the palace: One a squad of mixed-company soldiers that was making its way deeper into the palace, held up at various points only by the Roman soldiers; the second a series of reports that he couldn't even begin to believe, about a single individual carving its way towards his location.
Gnaeus was facing away from the captives, arguing with another officer, when he heard the sound behind him. It was the muffled sound of someone dying. He turned to see a long length of a blade like he'd never seen before sticking out from the chest of one of his men. Argus stood behind the Legionary, looking back at the Centurion with an impassive face. "
Nox Aeternum," he said in a deadpan.
Eternal Darkness, Gnaeus thought immediately, recognizing the words the priest had spoken. What followed after was exactly that. An impenetrable shadow fell upon them, blinding the Centurion and everyone in the room. "Kill him!" Gnaeus ordered, hoping that the helmets of his men were able to penetrate the darkness. He fumbled for his own, but a heavy weight fell into him, causing it to drop from his hands and rattle away somewhere he couldn't see. He could hear, rather than see, the rapid thrum of gauss fire, so perhaps his soldiers could see in this darkness.
The sounds of retaliation, however, began to fade, and the sickening thud of armored bodies hitting the ground replaced them. He couldn't see what was happening, and fury ripped through him. Two blows to the back of his knees sent him collapsing to the ground. His vision returned to him. His rage filled gaze went up to the figure standing before him. Argus laid the blade of his numinous weapon against the Centurions neck.
"You are charged with the unwarranted assault on a sovereign nation and the murder of innocents. How do you plea?"
With hate burning in his eyes, Gnaeus Vedius Aculeo said two words: "
Roma invicta"
"You claim innocence in the name of divine mandate," the Archon stated quietly. "A plea of innocence is guilty of wasting my time." There came a loud thud from the door, as if something ran into it. They burst open, revealing Advocate Nerim. At her feet was the case she had dragged halfway through the palace, in one hand she held her twin-bladed sword, in the other a dead Roman. Argus sliced off the Centurions head. "Hello sister," he said.
"Brother," she replied. Her helmet folded in upon itself, peeling back in numerous layers until it seemed to disappear into her armor. Angeline kicked the case across the floor towards him, he stopped it with his foot. The siblings let their eerie blades vanish into nothingness. "You were busy."
"So were you."
She dropped the corpse. "A minor inconvenience." She pointed the stump of her sword at the case. "Get changed." He nodded and bent to pick up the object she'd kicked at him. The darkness returned. "Brother," Angeline said, amused.
"Yes?" came the disembodied reply.
"Now is not the time for modesty."
"I would not want to affront the Empress by being nude in front of her, sister."
"She is a fairly young woman, Argus. And according to Mikaila and others you are not unattractive. She may enjoy it."
"And you're supposed to be the diplomat in the family?" There was a pause. "And stop gossiping about me with my crew." Moments later the darkness lifted, and Argus finished attaching armor similar to what his sister wore. Only he had a true helmet hanging momentarily from his waist.
Argus turned and gave the seated Empress, who until now had sat in silence, staring between the dead Romans, Advocate Nerim, and Archon Nerim, a deep, formal bow. "My apologies, your Grace. Acting sooner may have jeopardized your life unnecessarily."
"You were armed in my presence, Archon Nerim."
"Yes Majesty, my deepest apologies." He straightened. "The subterfuge was not meant to harm. This weapon is tied to me, an extension of my body and soul. I could no more part with it than you could your arm. It is also not the policy of the Order to assassinate sovereign rulers, for any reason."
"You may censure us as much as you want later, your Grace," Angeline spoke up, "but for now we must get out of here. Can I assume that this, like any other palace, is littered with secret passageways, one of which is very likely in this very room?" The Empress didn't reply immediately. She pondered the two of them from her chair. Finally, she stood, straightened her dress, and stared imperiously at them.
"I accept your offer of protection, fair outsiders, but first, I must attend to an important matter."
"At this very moment, your children should be under the protection of my bodyguard," Advocate Nerim said. The Empress paled slightly. It was Angelines turn to bow. "Majesty, the Arcadian Order is capable of using many things as leverage, but your fear is misplaced. Children are never a bargaining chip. My men will defend your scions with their lives, as I'm sure your own soldiers who accompanied them would.
"Then let us be off."
