I'm in a mood for total war
To the darkened skies once more and ever onward" - VNV Nation
The noise at the bar is unbearable. Loud synthoR blares over the loudspeeks while the buccies get drunk.
Not mine buccies, I would add. Mine buccies and mine homepeople are drinking a mite of the dandy C, which is a nice brownish-reddish chug but nothing you'd get drunk with. You see, I'm not quite verum on it yet but I cognie that something's not quite mundane about mine buccies. Besides the freak little hourglasses on some of their knuckles, they don't do a lot of the stuff that the others do.
Oh, by the way, we're in the mining base of Ironbund. Initially settled by Doytschterri mining corporations two hundred years ago, it now serves as one of the main outposts on the trade route between Earth and the Outer Planets, the first stop in the Outer Reaches of the Belt. Mining ships still run here, but there's a lot of interplanetary traffic as well. That means caelotrash-people like the starfreighter crews, the other buccies, and the various national stellar militaries. At the moment, I can hear thirteen different cants ranging from Nipponese to Angol to Esperanto.
The dandy C is relaxing me, I've figured out. It's having a depressing effect on my nervous system. I wonder if this is what they mean when they say "highfly"? Or wouldn't it be "low"? Perhaps the buccies are feeling this way too. I must say, though, that it tastes better than the protein drinks and water we get onboard Scion of Trinity. Or, to quote Lloyd, "that vitasludge bollocks".
"O mine buccielass, can I purch you a chug?" this bald guy asks me. He reeks of body odour and engine oil, and he's wearing a synthcow with shiny zippers and a patch that reads "Trans-Venusine Starlines".
"I've got me a chug, thankie," I say curtly as I turn around. Both Mr. Sayyif and Lloyd have told me that the starfreighters are best avoided. They're good for moving goods and can come in handy in a pinch, but they're rather unsavoury. Although Lloyd was somewhat rolling his eyes as he said that.
"You got dandy C," Baldie replies, scooting up closer. "I can purch you a real drink."
"So I can wind me up playing the flute in your privies this eve? Coggie me no, but thankie. Really." I have no clue what I just said, but Lloyd assured me that it'd probably take care of a situation like this.
Baldie gets angry and stumbles away, muttering the words "chillycold vix" or somesuch. I'll have to ask Lloyd about that when we get back.
Suddenly, a loud wailing begins. It doesn't sound like the sythnoR, either; bright red lights are flashing now and people are grabbing for their guns and getting up from their seats. I look me to Lloyd and he motions me over.
"What's going on?" Paolaon demands, also having come to Lloyd. "Is this place under attack?"
"Sort of," Lloyd says. "I just got an e-mail from the mayor of Ironbund, sent out to everyone who docked here, presumably. It says that the Ijaptine battlecruiser Ausiras has landed forces on the sunward side of the asteroid. The Chi Xi Stigma battalions guarding this place have declared martial law and a moratorium on arrivals and departures. All ship crews have been ordered to return to their ships and remain in dock until further notice."
I'm confused. Where was Ijaptia?
"Um, Lloyd? Is Ijaptia a planet?"
"Not the time for the twenty questions," Lloyd says. "Quick decision to make, mates. Do we follow the orders? Or should we try to help out the Insurrectionists?" Okay, whoever the Ijaptines are, they're Insurrectionists. We're Insurrectionists, too. That must mean that Ijapt is good.
"That means you're pretty positive that the Coalition's the bad guys," Deac, who had come over a second ago, says.
"It's pretty sodding evident," Lloyd reminds him. "Remember what happened to Eire."
Paolaon pauses for a moment. "This isn't our fight."
"What in horned Lucy's own fire do you mean this isn't our fight?" I asked. "Insurrectionists are fighting the ???. We're Insurrectionists, right? So why don't we fight?"
She looks at me. "So what are we gonna do? Take our little ship and our little guns and face down a battalion of the ???? You may be guaranteed life for the next four years, but the rest of us aren't so lucky."
Lloyd butts into the two of us. "Look, you both have valid points. And certainly, we shouldn't be on the front lines or anything. But we can take steps to hurt the ??? from behind them."
"Like what?" Paolaon asks.
"We'll figure it out," I assure them. "What say you, o my buccies?"
"What the deuce, I'm in," Deac shrugs. "Lloyd? Paolaon?"
"I'll do it," Lloyd decides.
"I'll be back at the ship in case you lot need a getaway car," she says.
And we split up into two groups.
***
The Ionyted Estata Stellecraft Kyriakos Anastasia cruised along serenely in space, bathed in the light of the cael's brightest star, Sol. Its grey gleaming serenity spoke little of its damage-until one looked at port and aft, where rust-scarred pits were covered by leadplast and steeltape. Her national colours flew on the mast of the main solar sail, which had been removed due to the gaping holes. The only thing left functioning on her at full capacity were her engines, which had gotten the ship to over one hundred times the speed of sound and were straining to increase the speed.
One could begin to understand the reason for their speed when one realized that the ship's destination lay almost forty asters from their current position. Of course, to fully appreciate the scope of it all, understand the enormity of their desire for velocity, one merely had to look behind them. For, just out of weapons range, also on a course for Earth, was a massive comet-like spacecraft that had destroyed a Rhuskan mining vessel in the outer reaches of the Oort Cloud and had brought Kyriakos to her knees.
"Captain," began a female Brytash officer with auburn hair, "here is the manpower report you requested for the Royal Stellar Force Expeditionary Battalion, should you wish it."
The captain, dressed in full regalia of the Emeriquan Stellevoir, turned to her as he stroked his salt-and-pepper beard. "Do go ahead, Lieutenant Callister. You have my full attention."
"The Expeditionary Battalion has eighty-seven casualties still remaining from our last battle with the enemy, all injured with a previously unknown virus. We have thirteen soldiers readied for action. We have ten doctors and ten mechanics readied for action."
"Any luck figuring out that virus?" asked the captain. "Is it spreading?"
Lieutenant Callister replied, crisp as a cadet fresh out of academy. "The virus, named Extraterrestrus Cruciformus by the Queen's Surgeon for its origin and four-pointed construction, appears to be spread intravenously. It undergoes a complete mutation every eleven hours, making it nigh impossible to treat. The Royal Medical Academy theorises that radiotherapy, if applied within seconds after contraction, can slow the spread of the virus. However, the viral reproduction rate is greater than any virus known previously. At present, E. Cruciformus appears to be non-fatal. However, all known case histories do not extend beyond two months."
The captain let out a sigh of exasperation. "So the boys are still in agony. That's not good. Brytannia's sucked up the worst of the virus, too. Tell your men that they have my sympathies."
Callister nodded. "Thank you, sir."
"Dismissed."
After he said that, a beige-skinned Emeriquan approached him with a palmtop in hand.
"Captain Adaris," he began. "There is a message waiting for you from Dystroch Columilis. It's marked top secret and for the captain's eyes only."
"Top secret?" wondered the captain, again stroking his beard. "Who's gonna hear anything out here? It's got me wondering."
The officer stood there after handing him the palmtop.
"Is there anything else, ensign?"
"Nothing, sir."
"Thank you. Dismissed."
He got up, and saw that Callister was making her way to the ladder.
"Callister!" he shouted. She turned around.
"You have the bridge."
She nodded as he retired to the ready room.
***
We three are in a supply closet in the tavern, looking at Lloyd's palmtop in the darkness. On it are the schematics of Ironbund.
"Now, we aren't sure exactly where the front lines are," Lloyd says. "Fog of war and all that. But they did land sunward, and that means that they probably landed here, and here."
He points first to a cargo bay, where small ships could land and then unload cargo and refuel and such. "The first, a cargo bay, is ideal for staging troops. If I were the Ijaptine commander, I'd hit here first."
Deac speaks up. "Well, look. There's three routes here from ??? Ironbund, and the main one goes through Ironbund Market Sector Twelve."
I look at the schematics, and see that there is grain storage right above that area. "Why don't we bust those open and use the commotion to pick some of them off? Every ??? killed is one less that the Ijaptines have to worry about."
Lloyd chews him on that cognie for a moment, and then makes a decision. "We don't have the firepower to do much with it. We could use it to help the Ijaptine Army, but the action would have to be coordinated. And, at the moment, we don't have the Ijaptine comm frequency or fractal key, and we can't risk sending a message on all frequencies because the ??? would intercept it."
Deac pipes in. "Well, we could send a runner to the Ijaptines, and then transmit the comm freq and the fractal key on Scion's private channel. But somehow that runner would have to get past the Chi Xi Stigma."
"We'd need justification for such a big risk," Lloyd decides. "Something worth it, say maybe if we could cut power to Ironbund's laser batteries long enough for the Ijaptines to land another wave and open up a second front."
"Can we do that?" I ask. "I read up on Ironbund before we came here and it says that power to defence is divided into the six cardinal directions. Cutting power only gets rid of one of the six."
"We'll do that, then. How well do you remember what batteries fall under what power grid, Amber?" Lloyd asks.
"Um... there wasn't a map. It was hard to pay attention because Mr. Sayyif was watching a western in the background."
"Western?" Lloyd asks. "Like frontier town type stuff? I never figured him for that."
"He was having a marathon. Some pre-Idealist movie by a guy named Wayne, and then a medieval western made in Zhongua. That was weird."
"Guys, we're getting off track here," Deac says. "Let's cut the talk about cowboys and Indians and talk about, well... Co-boys and Insians."
Lloyd rolls his eyes, but I think it's funny. But I admire both of them, so I roll my eyes while stifling a laugh, to be polite. They don't notice, though, in the darkness.
"Coalition boys and Insurrectionists, I take it?" Lloyd asks. "As far as puns go, that was wark-all stupid."
Deac attempts an early Emeriquan accent. "Them's fightin' words, pardner." Probably the key word to that phrase was 'attempted'.
"Oi!" Lloyd exclaims as quietly as one would try to exclaim. "We're plotting a major underground struggle here, so keep it down."
"Right," I nod. "So who does what?"
"Probably the most dangerous out of all that has got to be getting in touch with the Ijaptines," Lloyd informed. "That means that whoever takes it isn't coming back-unless it's Amber."
I look at him, my former amusement gone in an instant.
"Well that's bloody chivalrous of you, o my buccielord," I remark. "Plus, I don't speak... whatever it is that people from Ijaptia speak!"
Lloyd rolls his eyes. Again.
"Look, the place is called Ijapt. And they speak Aravine. Well, some of them speak Coptic, but that's besides the point."
"And what, praytell yourstrue, is the point?" I demand.
"Amber, you're gonna be around in four years."
"Only if the words some dead guy wrote five millennia ago are all verum!" I remind him. "And who's to know they are?"
"Well, the first part's come true so far," Lloyd tells me. "But anyway, if you're around in four years, you won't be dying now."
"Who's to say I'm little miss prophecy girl?" I demand.
"Well, to begin with it's little miss prophecy woman clothed in the-" begins Deac before Lloyd's glare silences him.
"Clothed in the what?" I ask.
"-stars," Deac finishes.
"Well, what if I'm not clothed in stars after all?" I inquire. "What then, you'll shrug your shoulders and go 'bloody shame' and waltz off to find the real woman clothed in stars? I don't warking think so."
"Fine, I'll go," Deac volunteers.
"All right then. Since I've had... practice with sabotaging power grids before, I'll hit me the batteries."
"Leaving me with the grain."
"It's easy, Amber," Deac assures me. "You just plant bombs on the floor of the grain stores, where they'll fall on Ironbund Market."
"Everyone, let me give you the map of this place for your palmtops," Lloyd says. "I'll outline your routes so you don't get lost. But, if you do get lost, let me know that you won't be asking Uncle Cristobal's boys for directions, right?"
"Right," I nod, smiling. Deac's smiling, too. They're weak sort of smiles, because the full impact of the danger of it has just sunk in.
"Last call for packing it in and waiting in Scion," Lloyd offers. "We still have five minutes."
None of us say anything.
"Right, then. Off we go."
***
Captain Adaris, upon hearing the doors to the ready room close shut, entered the captain's code and played back the message.
"Captain Adaris," began a voice recognizable as that of the current President of Emeriqua, Teic Harsnau. "Jo havao malle news bearar. The Global Defense Coalitiona isat at guerra with neus nationa. These estata ionyted thrownatan in lots with a group ov nationas that callat thellosthel the Insurrectiona. The Brytash Solar Imperium isat neuster ally. Nunthless, however, Selenia isat in the Coalitiona."
Adaris' eyes just stared at the screen as his President continued with the news.
"Realizao that this putat you in a malle positiona," the President empathized. "Tellao you that Emeriqua chosat this for a much bona reasona. Captain, thellos nukat Eire. Not the alienas. Chacazzo. Eire wantatan out, but Chacazzo-isatan horrible contemplatar. So... your ordenas. Imprisonas the Selenians as piohdubyas. Goas straight to Brytash Jupiter. Ganymede isao in the handas ov an Insurrectionista provisional govment yt protected by the Seventeenth Royal Stellefleet. Tellas McCartney repairar Kyriakos. Yt pora the amor of Xristos, Adaris, livas fightar nuthre dia."
The message was ended, and Adaris slumped against the wall.
Kyriakos was barely outpacing the aliens, and now this?
***
Deac walked down the corridor. At this point, martial law had been declared and everyone was long since in their ships or their apartments. The corridors were supposed to be clear, and anyone found in them was subject to military authority of the Chi Xi Stigma.
He heard talking in Italine, so he ducked behind an archway. As two ??? walked past, Deac shot them with his gun. Two screams later, and he looked to make sure they were dead, the bullet holes smoking in their backs.
The second one narrowed his eyes and hit the panic button on his communicator.
"See you in Hell," the soldier spat, grinning madly.
Deac then grabbed the soldier's better Perditor Class One and several energy cartridges, holstering his projectile gun. He then took off as fast as he could, headed for the front lines. He ran straight into a battle group of ten, headed in the same direction.
"Freeze! Chi Xi Stigma!" they shouted, levelling their Perditors at him. Deac ducked behind the corner, and laser barrages barely missed him.
"Bloody hell," spat Deac as he loaded an energy cartridge into his laser. He saw the initial reflex barrage cease, but he knew that they were waiting for him to come around and shoot. They probably had their weapons trained on the corner, each one aiming at a certain height predetermined by group training. So, he got out his projectile gun and spat on it, ever wary of the corner.
He had to work fast. The ??? would hold a defensive position for thirty seconds, he knew, and then they would try a direct assault.
One.
Two.
Three.
Four.
Five.
Six.
Seven.
The gun was polished. Nothing to perform surgery with, but Deac could see his mug well enough.
Nine.
He turned the gun, holding it with his left hand, and holding the Perditor with the other, aimed at the gun's surface.
He saw the wall in the other hallway. No ???, though.
Thirty.
He couldn't see anything other than that wall, but he could imagine the soldiers giving each other hand signals to approach. Sure enough, he saw an approaching soldier in the reflection of the gun, and he pulled the trigger. He fell dead, and another, a closer one, ran towards the blast.
Gonna catch me off-guard, right? mused Deac as he levelled his left hand at the corner, head-level, and shot. The bullet struck the soldier right between the eyes.
Next on the list of Chi Xi Stigma battle protocol, provided that the first two tricks didn't work, would be a full-on direct assault with all forces in fifteen seconds.
One.
Deac took two of the five cartridges he had and piled them silently on the floor.
Six.
He then started creeping, silently as he could, to the nearest archway.
Twelve.
Little time left to aim the Perditor at the cartridge pile.
Fifteen.
He heard them charge and the moment he heard them start firing, he pulled the trigger. For, when they started firing, they would be in visual contact with his hallway and thus in the projected blast radius.
The laser struck the cartridges, and an explosion erupted. Deac felt relieved as he fired his gun into the smoke.
Lasers fired back.
"Wark-all NO!" cried Deac as he started running, turning the next corner he saw. The lasers struck the walls around him, and he counted himself lucky that he had survived thus far.
As he outpaced the ???, he knew that he wasn�t to have much luck evading them the closer he got to the front lines. So he jumped into the nearest crawlspace he could find, and he closed the hatch behind him and he aimed his Perditor and his gun at the hatch.
I�m about five hundred metres from the front lines, Lloyd reasoned. Assuming that Ijapt still has the initiative, they should have this area under their control in twenty minutes. Give them ten more to push the front deeper in and twenty to be safe, and I should be able to leave in fifty minutes.
***
"This isn�t good, sir," a raven-haired woman in the deep purple of Selenia reported to another officer. The other officer, a fortyish man with deep azure eyes, a buzzcut and a strong chin, looked on and nodded.
"This is from our spy equipment in the ready room?" he asked. "And you're sure it said this?" he asked. "We haven't received any word from our homeworld about this."
"What is our course of action to be, sir?" she asked. "Should we attempt to gain control of Kyriakos Anastasia? We have the manpower; most of our soldiers didn't get stung."
"I am aware of this," he said. "However, command of the Marines Elite was transferred to the Ninth Stellevoir for this assignment. Technically speaking, until we receive new orders, we're soldiers of Emeriqua."
�But is Captain Adaris going to see it that way, sir?� asked the woman. �And really, should we, either? After all, this is a golden opportunity to seize an enemy flagship. And of all flagships, Kyriakos Anastasia! This is the most powerful ship in the caels save for Unity Ascendant!�
The man mulled over his options for a moment. �We owe it to our homeworld to take control of this ship. Very well, inform the battle groups that we�re staging a mutiny in the name of the Global Defence Coalition and the Republic of Selenia.�
***
Explosions and havoc ripped through Ironbund Market, wrought by lasers upon plastic missing a lone man dashing through the abandoned stalls.
"Bloody savages, ye couldn't hit the broadside of a planet!" taunted the man as he whirled around and chucked a grenade over his shoulder. Of course, they could be excused-they were in the middle of a thick cloud of smoke issuing out of the side of a smoke bomb. Their situation was improved none with the explosion of the grenade.
He turned around a corner and smacked right into an elite trooper of the Chi Xi Stigma.
"Hold it right there-Lloyd ap Dhia!?" demanded the trooper, lowering her weapon slowly. It was obviously a "her" by the large, round breasts and the full figure wrapped in the Chi Xi Stigma elite flightsuit.
"An' how in warking fire an' brimstone do you know my name?" Lloyd inquired, trying to get free of the trooper.
"Don't ye recoggie me, eh me buccie?" the trooper demanded, removing the standard-issue helmet for Chi Xi Stigma's startroopers. "Surely ye know me voice, right?"
Out of the helmet came locks of short black hair and penetrating blue eyes.
"Oh bugger all..." moaned Lloyd. "Raomi. It's you."
She smiled, raising the gun once again. "Yer not that happy to be seein' me, are ye? Somethin' change across five years, 'ris it just me?"
"It was always just you," Lloyd informed her, eyeing the gun. "Stop pointing that thing at me!"
"Ye've got a Perditor too, eh?" she asked, looking at the exact same gun he held at his sides. "Ye kill one o' my new buccies t' get it?"
"Don't tell me you've actually fallen for that Chacazzo vulchit," Lloyd said. "Of all the people to be serving The Man at a time like this, and of all The Mans to serve, too..."
"Ye'd slave it fer The Man too if all yer buccies skedded out on ye," she rebutted. "Lloyd ap Dhia... this is gonna be big, what with Freedom Radio an' Ganymede an' all. You cost Uncle Chris a moon, an' horned Lucy's a bloody saint before you walk out of here alive."
"You forget," Lloyd answered, "horned Lucy already is a bloody saint. And you're slavin' it for him."
"Enough," she decided. "I'm reportin' ye, an' when tote be sedendone, I'll be havin' me a massivehuge bounty."
"You don't have the eggs to report me."
She glared at him, and then smiled as she activated her communicator.
"Echo Squadron, this is Lieutenant Eriphera. I-"
Lloyd bludgeoned her with his gun, sidestepping her laser blast. As she fell down, he grabbed the communicator.
"-am Liberty's last voice in known space. Bugger off and die, Chi Xi Stigma."
He then took her Perditor, which had fallen from her grasp, and, holstered it.
"You bleeding gave me away, you chillycold vix," cursed Lloyd as she got up.
"They're coming to get you," she said. "You're gonna die soon."
"Then why aren't you laughing?" Lloyd demanded, noting the slight saddening going across her face.
"Caelotrash like you mean wark-all nothing to me now," she countered. "I hate you."
She then grabbed him and, with his Perditor pointed at her belly, kissed him ferociously.
"You don't hate me, you hate yourself," Lloyd finished as he took off for Ironbund's power nexus.
***
"Foxtrot Angleterre reporting for duty!" shouted Foxtrot Angleterre Five.
I, of course, am Foxtrot Angleterre Seven, Steve MacCullock. I'm one of three unstung soldiers in this unit, and together with Alpha and Golf Angleterre there are thirteen members of the Royal Stellar Force Expeditionary Battalion ready to fight. Standing next to us are the twenty-six soldiers of the Emeriquan Stellevoir left standing. We're in the starboard Caelica bay of Kyriakos Anastasia, gathered to receive orders from Captain Adaris.
He walks out.
"I have grave news," he says. "The entire system, indeed all of humanity, is in a state of war. The sovereign nation of Eire declared independence from the Global Defence Coalition a few days ago, and in retaliation Unity Ascendant subjected the entire isle to nuclear bombardment."
He paused and let the enormity of that action sink in. I personally knew nobody from Eire, but I knew that my unit chief, One, was second-generation Eireann-Angol and was close with an uncle who lived in Belvaz.
"Both the Brytash Solar Imperium and the Ionyted Estata ov Emeriqua voted to avenge the genocide of Eire immediately. That places us at odds with our Selenian comrades, and the President of Emeriqua and the Prime Minister of Brytannia have ordered that we put all Selenian forces into detention forthwith. The Selenians have apparently intercepted this order, and they are currently busy patrolling the corridors of the entire ship to organize their forces. We have employed the ship's standard security teams to establish defensive perimeters around the bridge, the engine room, and the weapons and Caelica bays. These forces are minimal, but should suffice for the half an hour it will take Selenia to marshal her soldiers to fighting strength."
He then stepped forward. "These are the assignments. Bravo and Gamma Emeriqua will establish control of the Caelica fightermechs and launch, ending our need to guard these bays. Echo and Hotel Emeriqua will guard the bridge. And what's left of the RSF will patrol the hallways in force, subduing roving Selenians and putting them in detention in one of our defensive perimeters. You are authorised to use deadly force for this assignment if necessary."
He nodded and we proceeded to the bay's armoury, gathering whatever we could for our mission.
***
I'm finally here. The grain silos right above Sector Twelve.
"I was wondering when you'd get here," a familiar voice says as I entered the silo.
Whirling around, I recognise Gabe instantly, in his trenchcoat and with his odd little cigarette.
"You were waiting for me?"
Gabe nods, sucking deep into his cigarette and blowing the smoke out of his nostrils. "That I was. Look, you can't finish this mission. If you do, they're gonna find you and kill you. It's as simple as that."
"But I thought that I was the woman clothed in stars?" I ask. "I thought I couldn't die."
"You'll die one day, but I've been instructed to make sure it's no time soon. Hence, the warning. Get to Scion of Trinity as fast as you can."
"Thanks for the warning, o my buccie," I nod.
"Why are you still here?" he demands. "I said you need to sked you up to Scion. So go!"
I take the hint, and dash out of there, breathing in a lungful of his lovelybeaut smoke as I go.
***
Explosions rock the ship and we go flying.
I barely register that, out the window, one of the Caelicas has been stolen and it's now trying to blow a hole in the bridge's hull. In the chaos, I manage to hold fast to my Perditor Class I and I continue the hunt. My armour's flashlight is activated, and a bright beam of light pierces the darkness that is the corridor.
We maintain radio silence. The Selenians can't be allowed to hear us, so we must bear our burdens alone. The only sounds we are permitted is the clanging of our combat boots on the industrial-grade steel, the rasping of our throats, and the base thumping of our lifeblood's circulation. Woe to the claustrophobic, the trusting, and the weak.
A laser lights up the corridor for an instant, blowing away a chunk of the floor. I see the demonic grin of a Marines Elite's helmet in the laser flash, and I spin about and let loose at it with my Perditor. So does the rest of the battalion, tearing apart his armour first and then his flesh. We stop long enough to salvage energy cartridges from his gory and sticky form, and Eight and I keep watch along the hallway while Five raids him. We then depart that spectacle of violence, and continue our march.
We come across the bodies of three Emeriquans who met a similar fate to that Selenian. We can't find the emotions to grieve, and we don't even bother trying. We continue marching, not even stopping to look for the energy cartridges that the sons of Diana surely lifted from them.
Another explosion rocks the ship, and the atmospheric sensors on our suits tell us that wind is blowing. Depressurization. Pity the bugger without armour. We don't stop marching.
A firefight in the distance is headed our way. The combatants are flashing lights and explosions to us, and nothing more. We cannot discern who fights for Her Majesty, we cannot discern who fights for General Chacazzo, and we cannot discern who fights for the President. One group gives up the fray and runs directly towards us. As we see them approach, the red, white and blue of the Ionyted Estata flag on their shoulders tells us who they are. We instantly shoot at the pursuing soldiers, who are attacking our allies and are therefore our enemies. As we fight back, we see an enemy laser rip apart an Emeriquan trooper, and his vital organs and his blood smear the hallway as the beam bursts through the center of his stomach.
We don't even flinch. We are the Queen's iron fist and we are the soldiers of the Imperium.
***
Paolaon had the engines activated, and she had everyone ready for takeoff at a moment's notice.
"Paolaon, this is Lloyd! Head for Defence Pylon Five! You're going to be picking me up, because I can't exactly return. The Chi Xi Stigma know we're here."
Scion of Trinity began firing retros, trying to break free. Mujahede was closing the airlock when he noticed a young black-haired girl running for the airlock at full speed.
"Paolaon, slow it down!" he cried out, reopening the airlock. As soon as Amber tumbled in, he closed it and they took off.
***
Explosions and lasers screamed and whined their way across the power grid.
"Lloyd!" shouted a familiar Emeriquan voice down the hall.
"Deac! Bloody get over here!" exclaimed Lloyd as he shot off a salvo from behind a corner. "But watch you now; Chris' mates're watching the intersection!"
Deac leaned past the corner long enough to get off a shot, and then he pulled back. "How'm I gonna get over there?"
"I'm gonna lay me down cover fire," Lloyd explained by way of exaggerated whisper. "Get over here when I give the signal." Lloyd then slid a fresh energy cartridge into the slot.
"Now!" shouted Lloyd as he emptied that selfsame cartridge into the hallway and Deac vaulted over the intersection, missing laser beams aimed at waist-level. As soon as Deac was across, they took off for the pylon.
***
From everything I can figure, Selenia has the upper hand. Captain Adaris and everyone on the bridge is now dead, killed by the vacuum of space. Same goes for the engine room.
Five and Eight are both dead corpses on deck two, and the Queen's iron fist be damned.
Artificial gravity is blown out. I'd say it was Selenia but it could very well have been us. In any case, I blast my way through the bottom of a lift and I fly down-down towards the Caelicas. Most of them are still in the bays, so I figure I have a good shot at taking one of them and coasting on Kyriakos' current momentum towards Jupiter. If I strain structural integrity by going any faster, I can be there in a year.
The bay is undefended. I jump towards the airlock for one of the Caelica fightermechs, in fact it's the one that Foxtrot Angleterre used to deploy onto the Myelkrasnaya. Its artificial gravity isn't on, either, so I close its airlock behind me and I fly up to the one-person cockpit. I take off, and I wish the God-forsaken crew of Kyriakos Anastasia the best of luck in survival-be they Selenian, Emeriquan or Brytash.
Don't be jealous of my survival, Kyriakos, for I will tell them all of your gallantry. The sacrifice of Charlie and Delta Selenia won't be forgotten. Poor poor beleaguered Kyriakos, I will surely tell them all of the bittersweet horror of your final hours.
***
The Chi Xi Stigma piled into the corridor, tenatively staved off by two desperadoes armed with stolen Perditors. A rogue starship spun and twisted out the windows, avoiding the defense systems in a graceful dance of light among the stars.
"Scion! Get ready now!" Lloyd shouted into his communicator. He nodded to Deac.
Deac pressed a button on his communicator, keyed for signaling ignition devices. They both gasped in a final breath, holstered their weapons and plugged their ears as Lloyd opened an airlock.
They were sucked into the yawning void as a massive explosion blew apart Defence Pylon Five and rocked the rest of Ironbund.
They drifted for fifteen seconds, trying to conserve their energy. Finding itself with no immediate threat to its existence, Scion of Trinity maneuvered so they would drift right into their airlock. As soon as the outer door shut, the inner door was opened and Lloyd and Deac took deep, gasping breaths.
"Are you all right, o my homepeople?" Amber asked.
"You okay, guys?" inquired Mujahede.
"We'll be fine. Get us out of the battle and steer us for Earth," gasped Lloyd.