The reality of our situation
was far worse than any
prediction.
Peligia
~~*~~
Darien stared at her. The sound of birds echoed through the jungle canopy, leaves rustling in the wind as around them people gathered their equipment and what they could save from the destruction of the Excalibur.
"Sir?" a Marine Lieutenant stood to his right, a small protection detail holding their weapons at the ready covering the former first officer, hesitation evident on their faces.
Lauren stood with her hands up, the tunic of her combat fatigues blowing aside to reveal the empty shoulder holster. Her dirty blonde hair looked like it hadn't seen a comb in months, and the grim on her face told the story of many a night spent in muddy holes, crushed for air.
The whirring-clank of one of the heavy Mechs, a bipedal monstrosity of guns that towered three stories high pounded its way up, auto-cannons whirring up to power, covering the treacherous Imperial Commander and her companion.
Darien stood, his eyes deep and dark beneath the brim of his hat, his face twisted into anger as his hand strayed to Pacheyus-Ra's shard weapon at his side. His fingers brushing the interlocking plates of the trigger guard as he contemplated so many acts of vengeful justice.
"Warlord Taine, sir…" Doctor Roberts, her Tilley hat tilted back and her eyes wide, "you don't want to shoot us. We…"
"Oh I'd suggest you keep your mouth shut Doctor," Lauren said from the side of her mouth, her eyes never leaving Darien's. "Dee doesn't really care what we have to say right now. He's too busy thinking of some imaginative justification for shooting me."
Darien tightened his square jaw, his eyes icy cold.
No one expected the Marine Lieutenant's head to explode.
The ball of golden-purple light erupted from the tree-line incinerating the Lieutenant's head, the corpse dropping to its knees before collapsing into the dirt.
Darien's head slid around, the look of anger changing to a puzzled expression as he opened his mouth. The second volley of fire tore into his men, too startled to react to the sudden attack.
Lauren's years of Orion combat training catapulted her forward, slamming into Darien and knocking him to the ground as the volley tore into his command group. Marines and crewmen scrambling for cover as the Mechs spun on their torsos, showering the trees with auto-cannon fire.
"Polians!" Lauren yelled above the din of battle. The Mechs sprinting into action as they formed a quad firing line, taking up positions to cover the troops. More of his men dying as the Polians shifted their fire, attacking any object of opportunity they could.
The dropship behind them shivered and exploded as it struggled to get airborne. Polian staff weapons fire incinerating its outrigger jump pods, blowing the entire thing sky high.
Darien roughly pushed her off, clawing his way into a combat crouch, his shard weapon up as he scanned the trees, returning fire strategically. Aware that Lauren had grabbed the fallen Lieutenant's DT-09 and was offering well placed cover fire.
"Almost like old times," she said tensely.
Darien looked at her, opening his mouth to speak, as the Polians saturated fire again, causing everybody to duck.
"There's six of them," Roberts called from where she huddled behind a piece of ancient masonry that was covered with vines. Beside her Doctor Murphy crouched clutching onto the flat computer that bore Commander Durnham's consciousness. Roberts was staring at a flat piece of alien crystal she was carrying, she pointed. "Two points to the right, there's one trying to flank us."
Lauren was up, switching to automatic fire she blasted the area, seeing her bullets smattering off of a golden-flickering shield that sprung up around something invisible.
She exhausted her clip, dropping back down shaking her head, "they're shielded it's no good Skipper…"
Darien stared at her, pulling his TAC link from the pocket of his cammo-fatigues, "Falcon-Actual to Tiamat, target," he leaned up, poking his head out from cover a second, reeling off co-ordinates into the TAC-link.
The lead Mech pivoted about, cutting loose with its cannons, blasting into the invisible shielded being, its heavy maser cannons unfolding as their cowling retracted. Locking onto their target as they engaged, purple-white beams slicing through the air, slamming into the shield. The first shorting out the Polian's shield, as the second tore through the Polian, incinerating it utterly.
"Tiamat to Actual, target neutralized," the mech driver called through the radio.
The Polian weapons fire died off, followed into the trees by occasional bouts of Imperial pulse weaponry. The Polians had retreated, for the moment.
Darien clambered to his feet, his weapon loose in his hands as he looked at the devastation caused by the simple attack. The smouldering wreckage of the dropship, the dead and injured, horribly maimed by the vicious Polian zero-point weaponry.
Smoke rising from the shattered supply crates.
"Department heads, give me a sit-rep," he called into his TAC-link, his eyes tight at the ruin.
"At a glance," Lauren said as she popped the clip on her assault rifle. "You've got about twenty-five dead, half again that wounded. Dropships a write-off, and you lost about a third of your emergency supplies…" she paused looking over at Darien, her jaw opening and closing a moment. "Sorry… force of habit."
He stared at her again, his eyes wide, looking at the destruction, and back at her. "I should shoot you…" he said bitterly.
"Given our current situation," Commander Durnham called through the TAC-link, his remote unit linking into the Imperial TAC-net, "we can't afford to shoot her."
Darien gestured with his weapon at her, "you have medical training, help the injured…"
"You need someone to take a survey that actually has some experience on ground combat," Lauren snapped back. "That's not you. You also need to establish a perimeter and stop the Polians from pulling off a second attack like that last one. Or it's going to be you, me and a cluster of scientists stranded on this rock."
Darien straightened his back rigidly, his eyes sweeping about him at the refugees and survivors. He bristled glaring at her again, "you shouldn't have come here." He said angrily.
Lauren's eyes fixed on the Imperial Warlord and narrowed. There was an anger rising in her that wouldn't be productive, she was already on edge and she didn't need Taine in one of his holier-than-thou righteous angers. Especially given that the wild eyed expression of sheer fury indicated that Taine had been pushed close to his breaking point. And that made him lethal.
"It isn't as if I had much choice, Dee," she rounded on him, slinging the assault rifle up to her shoulder. "One minute I was chatting happily with you in your kitchen, next thing I know I'm a farking marionette on Rikard's puppet strings. Flash-bang and here I've been stuck for the past god-knows how many months dodging Polians and god-knows what!"
Darien remained rigid, his voice cold, calm, and very firm. "Take a survey of the damage, and establish a perimeter, Commander."
She bowed her head, "right away Skipper."
Peligia
~~*~~
Darien sat in the passenger seat of the Jeep, his makeshift command post. Looking at Commander Durnham's holographic image as it stood on tablet holo-display atop the rugged portable computer that housed his consciousness.
"I know we can't trust her," Durnham nervously fidgeted with his glasses. Thoughtfully adjusting his holo-graphic appearance to field combats so that his hologram wouldn't stand out so much as a target. The boonie hat on his head was tucked low, its tassels dangling about his ears.
"We can't," Darien confirmed, a boot up on the wheel well of the jeep watching Lauren organizing the crew. Ensuring that everyone was armed, and those without weapons training were adequately protected by those that did. "However, she knows what she's doing."
"I've got Midshipman Rait working on distributing the supplies," Durnham paused while an ATV roared past the Jeep, the two man scouting team running recon of the game trails ahead of them as the Excalibur survivors prepared to move out. "We can't carry everything, so Lauren's leaving a detachment of marines here with the drop-sled to guard our remaining supplies till we can come back for them."
Darien nodded his head, "and our destination?"
"The Propylons are our best bet," Durnham reported as his holographic image switched over to display a topo-graphical map. "Excalibur's sensors detected them when we passed over. And Doctor Robert's U-ahct has given us a directional fix on them. We need to establish a technical team there and make contact with the Empire. We have no hyper-space relays, and so our only hope lies with securing them."
Darien examined the lay of the land. "That's a peninsula," he commented, "high ground that should let us dig in."
"That was my thinking, milord." Durnham reappeared on the holo-display, looking up at his skipper. "We should also prepare for further attacks from the Polians once they are aware we are on the move."
Darien nodded his head, looking distantly into the dark tree line as the thunder clouds began to sweep closer to them, threatening them with a powerful storm. He pursed his lips, as he tilted the brim of his 49-ers cap back, looking down at the Commander.
"Why does it always rain?" he asked quietly.
"There is a nickname circulating," Commander Durnham replied, "I've heard it from the Fida'i and it seems to be popular with the civilians, He that comes with the storm. I do, however, believe it is done more out of respect than a general disapproval of the metrological conditions you do tend to attract."
Darien set his chin on his hand, "why can't it be, he that comes with the sunshine? I would appreciate a full day planetside without a raindrop…" he shifted to pull out his TAC-link, slipping the headset on and rotating its optical display in front of his eye. "Give me a strategic map of the island…"
Durnham complied, adopting his usual lecturing tone as he prepared his report. "The island we are currently upon is reminiscent of the Metéora. A collection of monasteries in Thessaly, Greece, the name means "suspended in the air" and seems to be somewhat apropos." Durnham paused and cleared his virtual throat. "The island's climatology seems consistent with a Temperate Rainforest. A broadleaf forest that experiences a high-precipitation rate…"
"He who comes with the storm," Darien sniffed, watching the first of the rain droplets splattering upon the hood of the jeep. "They blame me for a rainforest…"
"The rains seem to be caused by our proximity to the oceans in the mid-latitudes of the planet beneath us," Commander Durnham continued, "however considering that we are at the mercy of higher-altitude winds, there is nothing stopping the island from drifting into the arctic-regions. So we should take precautions against sever climate change over a short duration."
"Right," Darien murmured, suddenly wishing he'd thought of long johns. "We're going to need shelter." He examined the map. "There is no indication of winterized shelter near to the Propylon site. The closest structures are contained in the city regions further north…"
"North is… relativistic when we are on a drifting island." Commander Durnham said.
"Then we need to establish a navigation beacon," Lauren said firmly as she walked up to the Jeep. "A point of reference that we can use to establish directional headings. Stationary on the island would be best."
"Create a North Pole," Darien nodded. "Let's designate this end of the Island as north, and have the length of the island run North-South. Making the peninsula where the Propylons Due-South."
Lauren nodded her consent, "we need to set constants for ourselves. Navigation points. If we are going to be trapped here, our advantage over the Polian's appears to be the ATVs, Mechs and the Jeep. We need to transit swiftly to keep ahead of them. I would however recommend an Observation point, a firebase for recon, give them a mech for fire support and anti-air cover…"
"FSB-One," Commander Durnham stated. "I am highlighting possible sites, however only one springs up as readily suitable terrain to support a Mech."
The holo-map flashed with a locator marker on the western edge of the island, atop the highest point on it. It was a single, low mountain that commanded an indomitable view across the ruined city, and held a single approach up a steep slope. Readily defensible.
"Marine Sergeant Kurtz was trained in Force Recon," Lauren pointed to where the Marine stood with his platoon. "His lieutenant was killed in the first assault, but he's qualified…"
"Promote him," Darien nodded. "Give him one of the Mechs and tell him to hold FSB-One." His eyes slid over to the four Mechs towering over them. "It will be good to have some artillery should we need it." He pointed to the one outfitted with a long range missile pack.
She gave an incline of her head as she set off to carry out his orders, every inch the officer she had been.
"We should also consider beginning to move," Durham warned. "It will be difficult for the vehicles once the rain begins."
Darien absently began to rub his thumb and forefinger together. A habit that, to a holographic program, couldn't help but be observed. Durham folded his arms, "Warlord, we need to discuss the ground based chain of command. Considering your condition…"
Looking up Darien shook his head, "you are the senior officer. If something happens to me, Commander, I am going to need to rely upon you…" he looked over to where Lauren was talking to the Marines. "My choices may be limited. But I am not about to let her loose without some-kind of check and balance."
"I am a hologram, sir." Durnham reminded. "There will be problems from the men…"
"The crew don't know what happened on the bridge, what Lauren did." Darien folded his arms tiredly, "we need to keep it that way or we will have a lynching on our hands. But if there is any doubt, I want you to do what you have to do to retain control here."
Durnham looked at Darien's firm face. "I want to be clear on your orders, Warlord. I need you to state them before I can act upon them."
Darien nodded in understanding. A real problem as he considered Commander Durnham, there were still ethics hard coded into his program. He couldn't act upon insinuated orders, and Darien couldn't expect him too.
"If there is the danger of Commander Theruan seizing control of this situation, and I am incapacitated in anyway. You are hereby ordered to terminate the Commander immediately." Darien set his jaw, realizing he was authorizing her death, but in their current situation, and faced with the tenuous threat of a mutiny. He was left with no other choice.
Commander Durnham swallowed, "I am… at the current point, unable to act without assistance."
"The Fida'i will act in your stead," Darien said quietly. "Issue the order and they will act as if that order came from my lips."
Durnham paced uneasily upon his tablet, "there are potential difficulties with that. Suppression of a mutiny through terminal force is… undesirable. It could make a tenuous situation untenable."
"Then I will place a standing order with the Fida'i, one that Lauren will be aware of. Should I fall, she will be executed immediately. My health, then, becomes a matter or her survival."
Peligia
~~*~~
Commander Wojciech patted the compact Maser assault rifle as he sat down on the edge of a piece of overgrown masonry, looking at the lush green jungle around him. His men were settling in, collecting supplies from the escape pods and preparing to move out, each stoic professionals in the face of the fact that they were all marooned on an Island in the sky.
He shrugged his shoulders in the borrowed Spetsnaz Flektarn camouflage jacket he wore over the saffron yellow uniform shirt that would stand out in the greenery of the jungle. It was a little too big, and he felt as though he was swimming inside of it.
His boot nudged a stone off of the edge of the masonry, sending it clattering into a dark pool of water, disturbing the small fish that darted too and fro, swimming through a flooded section of what had once been a city. The heavy rain drops splattering on the surface of the water, drenching everything.
There was no sign of Taine and his crew, but that wasn't to say they weren't close, coming to investigate the escape pods that had evacuated to the wrong section of the island. They couldn't remain there, they had to get moving. Years of training told him that.
He had close to sixty men, each heavily armed and well trained members of the Federal Security Service, trained to deal with terrorist activities. They could handle jungle warfare, and Taine's crew should the need arise. But there was still a part of Wojciech that didn't want to see another fire fight. The situation had drastically changed, and they were playing with a completely new set of rules.
One of his men walked up to him, issuing a report in Russian, "Господин, мы собирали все поставкы, котор мы и готовы пойти на ваш заказ."
"Я понимаю, вы." He responded getting up and slinging his MAR under his arm. "we're moving out," he commanded to the assembled spetsgruppa that were now under his sole command.
Each checked their battery packs, arming the MAR's with a hiss of coolant, the optical sights extending from the main housing of the weapon, sliding and locking into place. Off to one side a pair of snipers wielding rifles swept off into the trees. The squads fanning out to advance cautiously through the jungle, heading for the target he had designated.
The ominous black sky scraper that was listing sickeningly on the horizon, the only faintly recognizable landmark on the alien world. The large antenna array on the top of it hinted at the possibility of an FTL-comm somewhere inside. And that was their only chance to get off of the mysterious island they were now trapped upon.
Peligia
~~*~~
The rain slewed down outside the large expedition tent, hammering through the jungle on the overgrown flying island, reverberating on its cracked flagstones, and pooling in crevices worn by a millennia of similar storms. For the survivors of the HMS Excalibur, clustered together struggling with the reality that they were marooned on the lost world of Peligia, it was an omen of their lost situation.
Darien stepped into the light, revealing the soft and mature features of a thirty-something year old. Light brown hair fell just short of his muddy eyes in lazy, unkempt locks that grey had begun to taint at the temples.
He just stood at the opening of the tent, staring across the clearing, towards the forbidding forest, knowing that the Polians lurked in its depths. Ready to strike at them again, butchering his men for an ancient feud that had boiled for hundreds of years.
His fingers brushed the trio of dark scars that ran down his cheek, remembering his own battle with Pacheyus-Ra on the devastated world of Ordessus. The mechanical behemoth seemingly unstoppable as it advanced relentlessly, the wind whipping around him, wicked wrist blades extended, ready for the kill.
The Polian Shard weapon at Taine's belt was a trophy of that victory, the scars a reminder of how close he'd come to dying that day. And for all that he had lost, for all that had been taken from him on the journey that had finally brought him to that place. Standing on the soil of the forgotten and forbidden Peligian refuge, he set his jaw tightly, creasing the corner of his eyes beneath his glasses, ignoring the spots of rain that distorted his vision.
"Skipper," the Marine Techie behind him straightened up, tugging at his feldcap respectfully, "Commander Durnham should be linked into the emergency generators."
The Warlord turned his head away from the storm that blasted the trees outside, "thank you Mister Gaines."
The tech offered a salute as he withdrew from the command tent, setting off for somewhere warm and semi-dry for his token rations, mixed with local fruit collected by a heavily armed foraging party that afternoon.
Darien slipped off the Dragoon jacket he'd been wearing to keep himself dry, unbuttoning the fatigues tunic he wore beneath as Darien spun the Rugged laptop that had been connected into Commander Durnham's memory core, tapping a series of commands into the keyboard to activate the holographic projector.
The unit hummed to life as it built the three inch recreation of the Excalibur's first officer, the artificial recreation of a men hundreds of years dead, but resurrected to act as the liaison between the ship and her crew.
He looked concerned a moment as he stared up at Darien standing over him, removing his glasses to polish them nervously. "You have a look," Durnham observed.
Darien bit his lip as he sat down in one of the folding chairs, sparing a glance back towards the tent flap and the forest beyond it. "I think it's time I had some answers."
Commander Durnham gave a tight nod as he returned Darien's gaze, "concerning Peligia, I have very little information. VonGrippen erased much of the data, and I wasn't involved in the first expedition."
"No, but you were there, in that time," Darien stated calmly, "and you have some insight, perhaps, that may give me some kind of perspective on all of this. Not just Peligia, but the Polians, Kardiac and Rikard."
Lauren cleared her throat from the tent flap, she looked better after she had changed into clean fatigues, her hair back under control and the grime gone she was almost passable as the officer that had served at their side for so long. Until she had betrayed them all.
Darien's gaze hardened as he looked up at her, "what is it?" He asked as he pushed gold-rimed spectacles up the crook of his nose, obscuring his sharp eyes as they flashed at Lauren.
"I had the marines establish a tighter perimeter," Lauren said as she entered and poured herself a mug of coffee that had been prepared an hour ago and was approaching stale. "And Doctor Murphy is complaining that he can't explore, saying that the marine escorts are in the way."
"He's an archaeologist," Darien responded. "Curiosity is a part of his nature."
"That was what I wanted to talk to you about," Lauren said ensuring that she couldn't be overheard from outside she crossed to stand at the work table that was serving as Darien's desk in the tent. "Doctor Roberts is an expert in Peligian history."
"She also worked for Rikard," Darien answered her calmly. "I don't trust her, and you are the wrong person to attempt to change my mind about trust."
Lauren went rigid, her eyes reflecting the pain she felt inside. "You don't get to say that to me," she said calmly, free now that they were alone to say something. "You don't get to sit there and judge me… not like that. I was made by Rikard, in the image of your Lauren, I was given her memories stolen at the moment of her death. I am Lauren, but I am also what Rikard created me to be. You want someone to blame, then blame him. God knows there's reason enough all around us to blame him… But I am here now, helping you in whatever way I can, and of my own free choice. You're the one that has chosen to use me, to rely on my expertise to help you stay alive here. You need me, so now you don't get to judge me."
"There is a big difference between need and trust," Darien worked, tightly, "I…"
"Excuse me, milord," Durnham cut in, "but Doctor Roberts did work closely with Rikard, and Commander Theruan has a point. We are in a situation of need, and needs must. Now, I can compile for you every log record VonGrippen wrote, as well as that of the rest of the crew. I also have the Lex Talionis logs we recovered during the salvage mission to Yeji-Sola, those do contain Kardiac's version of events from the time of the first Expedition to Peligia. Also I have a record of personal communiqués from members of the Guard who were instrumental in the escape from Earth in the days after the Skyella disaster. I think I can relate some of the relevant history needed."
"History?" Lauren inquired as she sat, without invitation, across from Darien. "Show and Tell Commander?"
"Perspective," Darien answered quietly. "There's nothing confidential, classified in any of this."
"You're inviting me to stay, Dee?" Lauren asked.
The wind howled outside the tent, as the storm picked up its intensity.
Darien glanced at the doors, before looking back at her. "It's cold, and wet. You might as well…"
Lauren sat back, allowing her fatigue tunic to hang open, her pulse pistol in its customary shoulder holster, present to remind him who and what she was. A dangerous blade, poised perilously close to his heart.
Commander Durnham walked the length of the table, sitting down on the edge of the laptop, looking at his two fellow officers, chewing on his lip as he loosened his virtual tunic.
"To understand everything, we really need to go back to where it all began…"
"The dawn of the Empire," Lauren supplied.
"No," Durnham shook his head, "to where it all began to go wrong. Before that, VonGrippen was the model officer. Pragmatic, logical, effective. So effective that the Immortal Emperor dubbed him his Sword. He was the grey fox, out thinking and out fighting anyone that the Emperor commanded him to fight. He took Mars days after the Empire was founded, fought the Orion's for control of the principle trade routes through the Empire, and established the firewall… but all you need to know of that era was that the Empire grew, and the Emperor had a sword. VonGrippen was at the head of the Amsus Military…"
"The Amsus?" Lauren broke in.
Durnham nodded, "you see, that was where things began to go wrong. The Emperor had a sword, but his army was Amsus. For two decades they fought loyally… until one day, everything began to go wrong."