The war with the Amsus is
futile,
we cannot fight for the
past.
Instead we should be
looking towards a peace
for the future.
Hong Kong - Amsus Occupied Earth
~~*~~
The seagull pin wheeled in mid air, drifting down from the rocks to sweep low across the harbour. Seeking fish or some other scrap left behind by a careless fisherman. It skimmed the gently rolling tide before flapping its wings to gain some height to clear the heavy stonewalls that sheltered the harbour from harm.
The Fleet Marshal felt the sun warm him as he rested his elbows on the wrought iron rail of the balcony. He could smell the salt of the sea in the air and stood there a moment absorbing the atmosphere. He missed the sterilized air of a Battlecruiser, walking the deck of a ship in the early morning. Now, however, he was a bureaucrat, an administrator instead of a tactician.
The news was difficult to digest; the fortune of the Amsus navy in the Space battle for the Taïrian Front had shifted against them quickly after the loss of the Fekla System. They lacked the resources he needed to wrest control from the Empire, and for all their successes, the death toll was mounting.
The early part of the year had been a slaughter. Shattered hulks lined the darkness of the void as bad leadership and inadequate support had nearly brought disaster. That was why he was there, he had been sent to that forgotten part of the world in the vain hope that he could change things. But one Amsus Fleet Marshal, no matter how skilled, could not win the war to hold Earth, the only thing that would make a difference was resources; something no one was willing to give him.
He had led a modestly successful career. During the early part of the war he had served on Raptors learning his art and mastering it. Because he had been there, cramped in the darkness he had a better appreciation for Raptor strategy than the last commander of the Earth Defence Forces had. He used it to his advantage, co-ordinating raids and keeping in constant contact with the Raptor commanders directing them on operations that took its toll on Imperial shipping. He fought a long and hard battle, driving home spectacular victories.
Even then it wasn't enough. A few weeks ago Amsus high command had declared BC-602 officially missing. It had set out on its patrol to never be heard from again. No doubt the victim of some catastrophe or ambush by Imperial Osterberg Destroyers that hounded his forces daily.
They needed to level the playing field again. Strega had promised him more Raptors, but Raptors were excellent hunters, but they couldn't escort shipping. They were incapable of the kind of fleet actions needed to drive the Imperials out of the Hegemony Space once and for all. At most they could delay, tie the Empire up in desperate hunts for the unseen predators. But it was a matter of time until the Allies launched an invasion of Earth, either through the Jump Nexus or from Taïr.
Again he found himself wondering if that was a bad thing. He stood slowly from the rail and paced the length of the balcony squinting down towards the ships in the harbour. His command headquarters was in the former Admiralty House established by the Colonial British during their Occupation. It held a fantastic view over the channel approach to the harbour, and an opportunity for him to see the Raptors he loved so much. It had once served as VonGrippen's residence on Earth, ornately decorated before the occupation it had been stripped bare by his predecessors, removing any and all trappings of the dangerous Imperial Warlord that still threatened their victory. The Fleet Marshal often found himself wondering what the house had looked like in its glory days before the accursed war.
The fact was he wasn't Amsus; it was a common mistake to assume that he was. He had been born naturally, not force reared aboard one of the great Hiveship mothers. His father had been a full fledged Amsus adult, choosing to keep himself hidden from the general population and the ever watchful eyes of Overlord. In his youth he had fought hard for the Amsus during the occupation wars and distinguished himself fighting to earn a place in modern warfare for the new Raptors. And the Fleet Marshal had been raised from a young age to realize the strategic value of the vessels and working tirelessly alongside other officers to build the Raptor fleet during the occupation years of the Hegemony. But that was where his loyalties ended.
He wasn't a drone. Not in the deepest heart of his being. He had the capacity to think, that was why he was an officer. Given the face and form of man so that he could do battle, he was proudly Amsus, and when the drones had drafted him he had protested against it. But given that Amsus citizens had no choice, when they were called to serve, they had to serve. Not that their society was anything but servitude to the whim of the Master. He had been dispatched to serve the navy. Now, however, if the Master's successor, Mistress Sephradon was determined to drag the Hegemony into disaster, the least the Fleet Marshal could do was ensure that the fleet had a fighting chance.
He squared his shoulders. He did his job, without honour and dignity; they were foreign concepts to his kind. His political views were unnecessary to his duty. Unlike so many races that donned the uniform and seemed only content to furthering their own ambitions at the expense of peace, the Amsus fought because that was what they were bred for.
The door to his office creaked open and he turned to face one of those men. The GN-2 Lucius marched into the room without knocking, a habit that irritated the Fleet Marshal immensely. The Fleet Marshal walked back into his office, standing easy watching the youthful human wearing his beard in an Amish style that mocked their piety carefully.
He didn't like the artificial creature that stood before him. The GN-2s weren't true Amsus, they weren't of the hive, they weren't of the Queens.
They and the Inquisitors who were abominations of carrion human flesh, reanimated and surgically altered to serve as secret police, brutal thugs, and deadly assassins. There was something wrong with Inquisitors, something in their eyes. It was as if they truly believed in the Master's propaganda about the master race, that they were superior to the average man. But the funny thing with war, strap a large quantity of C-4 to an Inquisitor, they still died. Superior or not, they weren't immortal. They still answered to death.
"Commandant." Lucius said pleasantly, but there was nothing pleasant about the man that had brought his prisoner problem to Hong Kong.
When he had heard about it, the Fleet Marshal had argued against the arbitrary decision handed down from the Inquisition concerning the captured Republican prisoners. They should have been moved off of Hong Kong months ago, dispersed among the POW camps in Eastern Siberia but as usual the bickering bureaucracy of the various different factions at work in the High Command had caused delays. The conversion of Hong Kong's stockade into a temporary Alien Stalag irritated the Commandant intensely; he had more important concerns than a group of prisoners.
"What do you want Lucius?" he asked sternly as he rested a hand on the back of his high backed chair.
Lucius smile slipped a bit, but he continued to keep it forced on his face. "I am informing you that I am sending for more Amsus guards to reinforce the camp."
The Fleet Marshal's shoulders remained squared as he looked the GN-2 up and down, "I don't recall issuing permission for more Amsus troops to be sent here."
Lucius licked his lips nervously, "I do not have enough men to secure the camp…"
The Fleet Marshal arched an eyebrow, "how many men do you need to secure Alien prisoners Master Lucius?"
"I do not have enough men to guard the camp and ensure civic order…" Lucius continued brushing off his uniform absently, as if reminding himself that he was an officer. The Fleet Marshal had a way of doing that, making the GN-2's feel inadequate, young and self conscious, it unnerved him.
"Leave the civic order to TER-SEC." The Fleet Marshal stated flatly, the neutrality in his voice indicated his displeasure, "If you need more men for the camp I will assign more men to you, but for the moment I am denying your request."
"I wasn't making a request Commandant." Lucius said defiantly, his smoky grey eyes flashing coldly as he met The Fleet Marshal's gaze.
The Fleet Marshal didn't flinch, but his hand tightened on the back of his chair, "I was assigned to command Hong Kong, Master Lucius, not you. Remember that in future, now report back to your post."
"But Strega is the commandant…" Lucius protested.
"You are dismissed!" The Fleet Marshal commanded as he sat down in his chair, indicating the meeting was over. Lucius stared at him a moment before he stormed from the office. The heavy oaken door slamming closed behind him.
The aging Fleet Marshal rubbed his temple as he leaned on the arm of the chair. The GN-2s and the Inquisition had no place in Hong Kong with their terror tactics. In many ways they made administration of the outpost difficult, and he had enough concerns to deal with. Perhaps assigning someone to temper Lucius's enthusiastic administration of the POW's was in order.
Admiralty - Hong Kong - Amsus Occupied Earth
~~*~~
Huddled around one other in all black, they looked like some strange cult, and other students slowed and stared at them as they approached the campus. "You'd think they'd never seen a group of people wearing all black before," Corporal Lee muttered darkly, checking his watch. Monday's meeting was long even by their standards; after Luther went over every detail of the intelligence report that had been stolen from President Hayes computer.
The reports spoke of a Republican Officer, an alien that had been taken prisoner from VI-223 and brought to the Hong Kong Amsus prison camp. A secure facility designed specially to house alien prisoners incarcerated on Earth.
After he went over the details he could remember picking up from his cell's intelligence officer Karen, he and a Karin Wolf named Sergeant Hendricks mapped out the plan of how to break in undetected and where they would go once inside, splitting up at certain points and then meeting back after an allotted time. Each person in the small strike force was given a specific assignment, and they all ran over it again in their heads as they stood around impatiently, shivering despite the fact that the sun was shining for once in the first time in weeks. James would be their stealth, breaking into the records room in order to dig up any useful information they needed. They knew that at least one Amsus guard would be guarding the main entrance to the facility, and it was Karen's job to replace him and serve as lookout. A code-slicer named Michael would be in the control room, causing havoc by short-circuiting the compound so that all their power went out-the chaos that followed would hopefully be enough to let them sneak by unnoticed. Luther would be exploring the large experimentation sectors to the west of the laboratory while the Wolf squad led by Sergeant Hendricks would be the one to rescue Lieutenant Rei, with Corporal Lee as his backup. Finally, just as Corporal Lee was checking his watch yet again, they all heard the familiar rumbling of a distinctive red minivan; Sergeant Hendricks pulled in front of the curb, unlocking the door and beckoning them to pile in. "Good luck, Lieutenant," Riley said shakily, his face tight as he gave each member of the team a brief smile. "I'm, like, sure you'll be fine, but, you know…just in case…"
Luther rolled his eyes teasingly at the grizzled old resistance leader, repeating once again that they would be okay. Riley was stoically watching them all prepare to get in the van, his face unreadable. He measured them all up, assessed their skills, and estimated just how far they would get. The answer made him grimace. "Could you at least pretend you have some confidence in us?" Riley looked up to see that Luther was looking at him as if he were feeling physically drained. Luther looked troubled on top of that. "I don't believe in giving out false hope," Riley said quietly, and for once, didn't sound like he was intentionally being difficult. The slightest look of pity began to creep onto Luther's face, and Riley quickly said, "Look, Luther, I know I can't talk you out of leading this thing personally, so just…" Riley squeezed out of the next words begrudgingly, as if it were taking all of his effort to be amicable towards James, "Just be careful, all right?" The youthful Karin Officer looked taken aback for just a second, but found himself giving Riley a small, slow smile at the faint hint of worry in the old resistance leaders tone.
"Take care of them," Riley requested of James.
"There are seventy-two doe eyed virgins waiting for each of them," James said with a shrug.
"Then they can wait a little longer," Riley rumbled.
James bounced in bemusement, cocking his head to one side as he considered the team around him. He bowed his head, mutely, in acknowledgement of the warning, putting aside the mutual dislike that both men shared for one another in a moment's shared camaraderie.
James quickly took his seat next to Karen and Corporal Lee in the back of the van, who from their position hadn't able to see what had just happened, much to James's relief. Riley stared anxiously after James for a moment. Behind them, the van pulled out from in front of the school and the sped off into the distance.
In the hour that it took to drive to Amsus prison camp, the Resistance cell went over their plans again, Karen holding the blueprint of the building she had drawn out from her intelligence reports in her lap.
They exited off the freeway and drove down a road populated with large, drab buildings with architects that apparently didn't believe in windows. Luther was keeping an eye out for Amsus prison camp, remembering that the building would be unmarked and larger than the others, a pale grey in colour. A nice, shiny neon sign with an arrow would've been nice, though.
"There it is," Karen pointed, looking at the end of the road, where a large, pale grey building sat, looking like an unassuming government building with its small windows, drab colouring, and lack of identification anywhere within sight. Everyone fell silent as they looked up at it, five stories tall and radiating with an untold eerie quality. But they knew everything that concerned them was going on underground-the Amsus were known for keeping their facilities sublevel, while upstairs they feigned the illusion of being generic corporate offices. The actual headquarters itself stretched out widely their feet, much further than just the building above ground.
Sergeant Hendricks parked them at the building next to the stockade against a white brick wall that served as a parking lot divider, the van now hidden in shadow and draping tree branches that hung over the edge of the wall. He then turned off the van and turned around in his seat, looking at everyone else, Luther in the passenger seat next to him, Michael in the middle seat, and James, Corporal Lee, and Karen in the back.
"You guys ready?" Luther asked, noting that his team all managed to nod gravely in response. "Okay, guys, masks on."
They had all brought with them black ski masks of varying shapes and styles to cover their faces lest they be recognized later on after they had escaped. Pulling them on, they left the van, walking along the edge of the wall and around to the other side. Karen walked a little further ahead, counting aloud as she took long strides on the Amsus stockade's side of the parking lot, and then finally stopped, looking up. "I think it's right here, Sergeant Hendricks. Can you see through it?"
The sergeant pulled down the optical scope he normally wore attached to his helmet, a modification of the same optics worn by the Karin Wolves when they were in full battle armour, staring at the spot Karen had just marked out. A fuzzy image passed over his eyes of an empty stairwell, and then just as quickly faded from his sight. "It's right underneath us," Sergeant Hendricks replied.
"What is, the stairs?" Michael asked nervously. As much as he had run over the plan in his head, he still wanted to be sure he was on the same page.
"Yeah," replied Sergeant Hendricks, and looked over to Luther now. "LT, you ready?"
He nodded, and stood on the spot Karen had indicated, saying, "Okay, Mike, you first…" Michael nodded, nervous excitement once again playing on his face, and Luther grabbed his hands, saying cautiously, "I'm going to lower you as much as I can, and then, well…I'm just gonna have to drop you and hope you don't break your legs or something."
"I'll try to jump when I land," Michael replied, grinning. Luther wasn't sure how that would have helped, but didn't press the issue.
"Hurry up, guys…that stairwell is only going to be empty for so long," Sergeant Hendricks urged.
Luther pulled the can of spray foam from his back pack, shaking it up and applying it with a hiss over the concrete. It bubbled and evaporated a large circular hole in the pavement between them. The others quickly began to lower Michael down.
Luther leaned down, struggling to hold on as Michael was now almost completely through, dangling down the ceiling on the other side. The muscles in his arms were already starting to burn, and uncomfortably thought he would still have to do this for four other people.
Michael looked down and saw that he was about four feet from the floor, and no one was in the stairwell just yet. He craned his neck back up, saw that Luther's hands had finally come through the hole as well, his wrists red and veins visible as he strained to keep his grip. Michael chanced one more look at the ground and then released Luther's hands.
The ground rushed forward to greet him with a loud thud and he lay there for a moment, his thigh aching where he had landed, the wind knocked out of him. He slowly pushed himself up and after a moment to clear his head, flattened himself against the pale yellow coloured stucco wall, and quietly hummed the Mission Impossible theme song to himself as he spotted a camera in the corner and, using the EMP gun he'd brought for just such encounters, shot a large current of electricity at it. It crackled and then short-circuited out.
Michael craned his neck upwards and saw the bottom half of Karen's body poking through the ceiling, clad in the tight black pants she of her recon catsuit. Blushing, he quickly averted his gaze back down and kept a lookout on the stairwell to make sure no one was approaching. The stairwell was only so large, and the stairs themselves were designed so that he couldn't see down in between them unless looked over the railings to the floors bellow. If anything were approaching, they would hear them long before they could actually see them.
Moments later, another loud thud announced that Karen had made it through, and Michael turned to see her pushing herself up from the ground, rubbing her thigh as well.
"How're we doing?" Michael asked, looking up towards the hole in the ceiling where a pair of combat boots were just beginning their descent, faster this time.
"Sarge says we all need to lose weight," Karen muttered, smiling behind her mask. "I told him he should try lifting some." Corporal Lee thudded to the ground next, but rebounded quicker than the other two, his SMG up and at the ready. As he jogged over, Michael chanced a glance at the door that led to the stairwell and peeked cautiously out of the small window. The door opened to a long, tile hallway while at least fifty feet at the other end was another door. Karen told them that that door led to the entrance of the main lobby back up to the "civilian" levels of Amsus prison camp. That would be their route out.
James dropped effortlessly and silently down the hole next. The Fida'i coiling low against the ground as he grimly surveyed the 'noisier' members of the strike team with disdain.
"I'd imagine his arms are threatening to fall off right about now," Corporal Lee said, just as Sergeant Hendricks legs began descending now. He, however, was going much slower, his body tense. Once Luther's arms were pulled down through the hole as well, Sergeant Hendricks released and fell to the ground as well, but quickly stood back up again so that when Luther fell through feet first seconds later, he landed in Sergeant Hendricks's outstretched arms, who caught him with a small grunt.
"Now, why didn't we do that?" Corporal Lee asked the other, rubbing his rear in pain. The others shrugged in response.
"All right, guys…we know what to do?" Sergeant Hendricks asked once he set Luther on the ground, who was panting heavily, his face bright red underneath his mask and his arms hanging limply at his sides.
They nodded and James withheld a sigh, and everyone watched as he slowly began to fade into the shadows, looking at first as if he were growing paler until he became completely gone. "Gee, this is going to be fun…" James muttered sardonically as to the right of them, the door to the large hallway swung open seemingly by itself; James had left. The records room was just north of the main lobby. Luther watched through the window until the door at the far end of the hallway swung open, and then turned back to the others.
"Let's go."
They hurried down the stairs, taking them two at a time. Michael was in the lead to zap any cameras they may have come across when they finally reached the bottom. Michael stood on tiptoe to peer outside of the door that lead to the entrance of the facility and froze, seeing a guard. "Karen…"
"I got it…" Karen replied. Activating the holographic pattern of her suit she shifted, suddenly resolving into the spitting image of a generic Amsus Guard. She slipped out, crossing the floor her hand already slipping towards the PKD shrouded by her illusion. Luther watched the guard go stiff, and then relax as she shot him.
"I think we're in," Michael replied. He pushed open the door, and saw that it opened up to a large, blindingly white lobby similar in design to the one in the holding cell. A large detector faced them as soon as they exited the stairwell, but it looked different from any metal detector they had ever seen. It was glowing light blue in colour, emitting a faint, droning humming noise.
"Terran detector," said a gruff, deep voice, seeing the boys confused faces and Michael jumped. Karen-Guard smiled and continued, "It turns green when Humans pass under it, and white when Amsus do-so they don't have spies impersonating guards and Inquisitors, trying to sneak in and out, you see." The smile grew broader beneath the black visored helm of the Amsus armour. Karen-Guard pointed to the twin double doors across from them, and indicated the left one first, "That leads to the control room, Mike…" Michael didn't need telling twice; he quickly ran off that way, humming the song in his head, partly due to his anxious excitement once again, and partly just to take the edge off he was feeling at being alone. The holographic Amsus turned back to look at the remaining three guys and said, "Once Michael gives the signal, you guys can go through those doors," and it pointed to the set of doors on the right.
The soldiers felt a little exposed waiting there like that, but they couldn't conceivably go into a blinding white lab dressed in all black-that would've been asking for trouble.
And then all of a sudden, three things happened at once. Everything abruptly went black just as a screeching siren rent the air, screaming in their ears, and something hard hit Luther in the back, knocking him to the ground.
"Go!" Karen-Guard hissed, and Sergeant Hendricks and Corporal Lee sprinted through the right double doors while Luther groaned and pushed himself up from the floor.
"Sorry, sorry!" came Michael's frantic voice from somewhere around Luther's chest. He pushed himself up as well and continued, "I was just running as fast as I could and-"
"Just go!" growled the guard's voice roughly under Karen's command.
Michael produced a small pen-light from his tool belt, enough to light the way for he and Luther to see the correct door, while around them, the air was still filled with the sound of the sirens and now an automated woman's voice calmly proclaiming, " Warning: complete power failure. All cell doors have been opened. Warning: complete power failure…" Michael wondered briefly how the sirens and automated voice still worked with the power out, but was rudely interrupted from his ponderings after he slammed yet again into something hard.
"Goddammit-!" he said angrily, rubbing his forehead.
"Who's there?!" came an unrecognizable voice, and Michael froze; he hadn't run into Luther this time. Beyond him, he could hear the chaos of hundreds of voices ringing out, some trying to assert their authority, shouting commands and orders, but the panicked screams of others overpowered and outnumbered them. The voice called out again, but then suddenly grunted in pain and Michael heard the person slump to the floor.
"Mike, over here!" Luther hissed from somewhere far to his right. Something suddenly grabbed his right bicep and yanked him forcefully towards it. Michael fought to get away until he felt a reassuring hand on his shoulder, and a soft voice following. "Sorry, it's just me," Luther whispered, and the hand on Michael's arm slithered down to his hand so he could hold onto it. "I lost you for a second…just hold onto me, all right? This way we won't get separated."
"What happened to that guy?" Michael asked as penlight lit up in his hand again and they briefly caught a glance at Amsus guards in armour frantically trying to get a hold of the many prisoners now scrambling to run free, all of them of different shapes and sizes, some looking completely human, others not. A small alien girl looking no older than nine with green-tinged skin disappeared in a puff of dark smoke, only to reappear seconds later, clutching the white collar attached to her neck and gasping in pain.
Luther gave an evasive sort of answer that made Michael think that whatever happened, Luther didn't particularly feel to proud of it. They turned sharply right, the two of them working to remember exactly how to get to the experimentation sector of the stockade, but the image of the map wasn't as clear in their heads as it was in Karen's.
Finally, among more fresh yells of confusion and screams of terror, Luther and Michael (the hand still wrapped around his wrist as if he was on a kiddy-leash), came to a stop when the small penlight between Michael's fingers reflected dimly in front of him. They peered closer and Michael allowed the light to expand, casting more light in front of them so that they could see that they were standing in front of a large glass pane. Inside, strapped down by numerous leather restraints and alone in the darkness laid a dark-haired woman around the age or at least twenty-five or so, stark naked, her eyes wide, completely panic stricken, and emitting a faint, unhealthy glow. Above her hung a large instrument with two long, wickedly curved needles pointing directly at her eyes, dripping a viscous liquid into them every few seconds. The liquid that didn't become absorbed in her eyes spilled out of the sides and down her face as she whimpered quietly, struggling to squeeze them shut. There wasn't even anything holding her eyes open-whatever was in the needles had paralyzed her eyelids to keep from shutting.
"I think we found the interrogation sector…" Michael whispered quietly to a horror-struck Luther.
Meanwhile, a ways in front of them, Corporal Lee and Sergeant Hendricks were doing their best to navigate in the dark to Rei's cell while around them aliens and Amsus alike were slamming into them from all sides, the aliens seeming to be doing their best to find someway to maintain an advantage. Around them, bursts of light, glowing entities, and swift-moving alien prisoners able to see in the dark scrambled to get out. The Amsus guards, however, were beginning to catch on, finding that the Aliens giving off some sort of luminescence were the easiest to recapture, unintentionally leading the guards right to them. They quickly clamped white collars around the aliens' necks, causing them to convulse in pain and slump to the floor.
"Lieutenant Rei?" Sergeant Hendricks called out desperately while Corporal Lee ran along side him, peering uselessly into the blackness, rubbing his eyes as he strained to make out something. Corporal Lee always wore strong prescription contacts but as much as good as they were doing him now, he might as well be blind. "Rei, I'm Sergeant Hendricks-where are you? We're here to help…!"
The yelling of the aliens was beginning to die down now, and slowly an ominous sense of dread slipped around them like a dense fog; even in the darkness, the Amsus were beginning to regain control.
"Sergeant Hendricks?" came a girl's voice suddenly, far ahead of them, sounding frantic and bewildered. Corporal Lee didn't recognize it, but could hazard a guess as to who it was. "Sergeant Hendricks, you shouldn't be here!" Sergeant Hendricks and Corporal Lee ran towards the sound of her voice when she suddenly screamed, "No, get off-I'm not going back in there!"
Hendrick's decided to throw caution to the wind, and banged open a flare, lifting his SMG and gunning down the Amsus that had tried to grab the Republican officer. His bullets smashed into an overhead water pipe, causing it to rupture.
Rei screamed at the burst of gunfire, rushing forward as she attempted to cling onto the back of Sergeant Hendricks's shirt, but only managed to sink her finger nails deeply into the flesh of his back, causing the sergeant to grunt in pain.
"Sorry," she said quickly, and relaxed her grip as she clung onto the remains of Sergeant Hendricks's shirt, continuing to glance fearfully at Corporal Lee and the burst pipe, which was still spraying water everywhere.
Sergeant Hendricks winced, his back stinging and feeling raw and exposed. He tapped his TAC, "Guys? We have her-let's get the hell out of here already."
Sergeant Hendricks, Corporal Lee, and Rei had made it almost completely back to the lobby where Karen had been stationed when the lights snapped back on, and screams rang out even louder now, drowning out the sirens and automated voice. Sergeant Hendricks chanced a look back and saw that all the aliens who had those white collars around their necks were now writhing on the floor, clutching at them, blood-curdling screams issuing from their mouths. Some of the screams weren't even vaguely human, and Sergeant Hendricks and Corporal Lee clutched their ears, tears burning their eyes as they felt the noise pounding inside their heads.
"Out, just get out!" Sergeant Hendricks yelled, still covering his ears as his head threatened to split open, and the three of them pushed through the doors, followed by other aliens who had somehow managed to escape collars being shackled around their necks.
The burly guard had a DT-09 cocked out in front of him, but lowered it at the sight of Sergeant Hendricks. "Oh thank God," he/she replied gruffly. "It's just you."
"Have Luther and Mike passed this way yet?" Sergeant Hendricks asked quickly as Rei still hung onto the remaining shreds of Sergeant Hendricks's shirt. "What about James? Have you heard anything from him?"
"No, nothing yet," replied Karen-Guard in a worried tone, furrowing thick, black eyebrows. "But James would just go straight to the van, wouldn't he?"
The cool female voice suddenly rang out, " Status: power restored. Initiating emergency lockdown. Status: power restored. Initiating emergency lockdown."
"Oh, fuck." Corporal Lee muttered, just as the doors to the prison burst open again. Two Amsus guards and an austere, young looking young man sporting the chin strap beard popular with the Amish.
"What in the hell…?" said the man, and his cold eyes went wide as he saw Corporal Lee and Sergeant Hendricks dressed in back and wearing masks, Rei still clutching the back of Sergeant Hendricks's shirt for dear life.
"Lucius!" one of the guards tried to pull back his commander.
Karen-Guard stiffened, and said quietly, "Lucius?"
A cold look of hatred passed over Lucius's ice blue eyes as the woman said the name "fifth column," and he glared at them. "It was stupid of you to come here… sloppy…" He sneered. "I want them rounded up!"
Hendricks and Lee both lifted their SMGs and trained them on the group in front of them. Making it very clear who exactly was in charge at that moment.
The two guards sighted in with their DT-09s.
Luther and Michael emerged from the open door, a dark-haired woman with bright silver eyes draped in nothing but a stolen white lab coat in tow. Luther's arms supported the woman as she looked warily around, blinking harshly, silver goo leaking from the corners of her eyes. "Let them go, guys," Luther admonished. "We're not after a fire-fight here."
"Don't be so sure," Karen-Guard muttered, as the guard's image faded, to be replaced with her own visage again. Her PKD drawn and at the ready, levelled at the enemy. "Lucius here is the Amsus commandant of this prison…"
"We go," Luther gestured towards the stairwell. "We start shooting and we're all dead."
Lucius turned in his place, glaring evilly at the young Lieutenant. "I'll remember this… and you."
"I hope so," Luther said. "Because at some point, I'm gonna kill you."
"James?" Sergeant Hendricks called into his TAC as they all began ascending the stairs. "James, where are you?" Sergeant Hendricks began cursing to himself, angry that he had ever agreed to let James go alone to the records room, a completely different area of Amsus prison camp. He wondered anxiously if James even had his TAC switched on, "James! If you can hear me-"
Luther breathed a sigh of relief just as they finally reached the top of the stairs, and pushed through to the long hallway. The relief soon died as they were met by at least two dozen armed guards, and stopped dead in their tracks.
"Oh, no…" Michael gasped, and behind Sergeant Hendricks, Rei's temperature was shooting up again. Everyone froze in fear, only able to stare at the wall of soldiers, each squarely locking DT-09's on their targets.
The guards cocked their guns, as Lucius called up the stairs from behind them. "Who is going to kill who, now?"
Airfield - Hong Kong - Amsus Occupied Earth
~~*~~
Dawn, that was the name Pavel, her GN-2 creator had dubbed her. A code, nothing more, there was no need of more. Her sister was Eve, and that was how they were. Darkness and light.
They operated as the hands of the great mistress herself, born and crafted for the sole purpose of serving Sephradon in the darkest of hours. And serve they would, tackling what was, for the mistress, jobs far too delicate for her regular forces, or beyond the scope of what her GN-2's could be trusted to handle.
She sat in the pilot's seat, guiding the vessel up and away from the airfield. The engines of the captured Republic vessel responding to the lightest of touches. Rocketing through the clouds as it curved its way past the Amsus armada that surrounded the spider-web lattice of jump gates forming the Nexus that connected Earth to the rest of the galaxy. Angling towards the furthest one, the one that was supposed to have remained dark… the one that now housed the threat that Geldan represented.
A threat that Dawn was set to end.
For her, it had been a matter of pride to extract the nature of her origin from her creator. Her sister Eve deriving no such pleasure, the only thing that seemed to satiate her was wanton carnage. But for Dawn, there was knowledge to be gained, understanding to be given, and she'd taken great pleasure in gaining it.
The failures of the one the Amsus called Master, for example, had doomed them to being forgotten. That was, until one of the Mistresses children had come to the forgotten Nevada facility with the intent of finishing what the Master had abandoned. Finding the remnant Qalabarim DNA that had been the progenitor of the Inquisitors, the aberrant disease that could reanimate the flesh and breed a race of resilient and formidable warriors.
Unlike her, the Inquisitors were not pure. They were aberrations, perversions of the flesh. But they had their uses, she could concede that.
She, on the other hand, was bred from the unadulterated strain of DNA, a reborn Qalabarim given form and deriving strength from the purity. In her blood flowed the nanite concoction that would only work for her race, dancing and changing her features at will, reconstructing her into whatever appearance was necessary for her task. She was the perfect assassin.
The Jump Nexus flared ahead of her ship, and she arrived in the heart of the Republican fleet. Angling for an approach on the Kiov she dispatched the codes Lieutenant Hawkin had given to her after he had been put to the question. Set in an equipment locker, the thermo-nuclear warhead was set and counting down.
Time was short.
R-Zero - enroute - Eelim Enclave
~~*~~
Rick had kicked back in his improvised hammock he'd strung up in the Zero's cargo bay swinging too and fro as he pulled his headphones over his ears, playing his Orion music at an obnoxious level bound to have lasting repercussions on his hearing.
Nick was fiddling with one of the triad of suspension screens he'd rigged around the portable display table they'd scavenged from the Imperial camp back on Aivilik, linking the whole display system into the improvised computer that buzzed and hummed in the corner.
"I'm bored," Rick said, suddenly as he swung the hammock lazily with one of his feet.
Nick turned from his work, lifting his sunglasses and looking at his twinned clone, shouting something that was drowned out by Rick's music.
Rick shrugged, "wanna have sex?" he offered.
Nick again shouted his reply, gesturing to his work and shaking his head. Being uncooperative given that he was typically buried in one of his pet projects. He'd been trying to get the stolen A.I. Core online, but so far hadn't had much of a response from the stubborn A.I. that seemed petulant about being taken offline for so long.
Rick sucked air between his teeth as he swung again, rolling up and out of the hammock dramatically, grabbing his blue sweatshirt and walking away from his clone, hoping that one of the others trapped on the spartan Amsus bucket was up for some fun.
It wasn't as if he revelled in his budding sexuality, it was mostly for survival. But there was still the amusing aspect to it, a way to pass the time and be a little creative, and as far as partners went, Nick wasn't too bad. But too much of the same got far too repetitive for someone as easily bored Rick could be.
The Zero was currently docked to one of the Amsus Carriers, piggybacking a ride with the rest of the Raptor wing, as they made the arduous journey to Taïr. Which Rick just didn't understand. With their far-stepping drive, the Zero could jump instantly to Taïr. But Duncan seemed to prefer the safety of the carrier group, plodding along at a ridiculously slow rate through a particularly disinteresting sector of space.
He dropped down the ladder in the underbelly of the Raptor, boarding the Amsus Carrier below.
Not that the décor was much improvement over the Zero, drab grey plates over top of drab grey piping and colour coded wiring that was tucked into any crevasse it could fit into.
It was universally sterile, and unequivocally military. The Amsus had done little to adapt from their original Imperial designs, running by the theory that if something worked mass duplicate it.
Rick yawned a little as he hopped up a flight of stairs, poking his head out into another deserted corridor, wondering where the crew was. In cruise mode, the Amsus Carrier was kept clear of excess troopers and crew. Each remaining in their barracks hibernating until they were called upon, or required sustenance.
It was all terminally boring.
The bridge of the cruiser was bathed in blue lights spilling from the repeater displays over the stations detailing engineering functions, RADAR and LADAR displays that displayed the near empty system around them, and the narrow wrap-around observation window that showed an equally boring view of empty space.
Duncan was sitting in the command chair of the cruiser looking pensive, his forehead resting against the handle of his cane, his hair plastered down across his forehead, and his school blazer braced about his shoulders like a cape.
Rick stared a moment, musing that it was like watching a knight from some old story sitting a silent prayer vigil before an altar. Feeling awkward, like he was interrupting he slid his headphones off, listening to the beeping trills of the automated ships systems that would, if they detected a threat, rouse the hibernating crew and send them rushing to battlestations.
"Can't sleep?" Rick asked.
"Sleep is usually elusive on nights like this one," Duncan replied, not opening his eyes, nor moving.
"Why?" Rick asked, "what's wrong?" His eyes darted to clear scopes and the empty panorama of stars out of the windows.
"Nothing," Duncan spoke softly, his voice richly accented. "I am just thinking about the past. And, naturally, the future."
Rick moved around the compact bridge, leaning on the yellow and black striped window sill, looking down at Duncan before him, appearing so young and small in the heavily reinforced command chair of the Amsus cruiser.
"What is it?" he asked curiously. You've always been… different, but this is a bit freaky man."
Duncan straightened up, leaning back into the shadows as he pushed his head back against the head rest. His eyes finally sliding open to look at his companion. "I am different," he said at last. "I remember more now, who I am… why I am… and what I was supposed to do."
"And?" Rick looked puzzled.
"It's all gone terribly, terribly wrong," Duncan replied. His voice sounding old, a faint rumble of age resonating in his words.
"Look, you're beginning to creep me out," Rick said thrusting a hand into his pocket as he straightened up. "Give me some idea of what I'm supposed to be doing here. I mean, you promised us a shot at getting our own back on the Queen Bitch, and so far I'm bored stupid and jonse-ing for a cigarette something chronic."
Duncan remained in the shadows, his eyes tightening a little, "you know that the Amsus are controlled by a computer system called Overlord, correct?"
"I've heard bits and pieces, but I thought Overlord was just a glorified TAC-net… sort of a command and control program that High Command…"
"High Command is Overlord," Duncan cut him off, "probably the most sophisticated A.I. system the Empire ever developed, and unlike Lex Talionis and the Excalibur, it isn't constrained to such a simplistic computer core, it is literally everywhere in the Amsus CinC network." He pointed across the bridge to a computer console that was sitting in standby mode. "Remotely accessible, Overlord is pretty much the only way to co-ordinate interplanetary and interstellar conflicts… and once we are back in range, we are going to have access to it."
"How'd you know all this stuff?" Rick asked suspiciously.
"Because I know the Amsus, and I know Overlord," Duncan said softly. "And since fate has seen fit to ensure that my Peligian stratagem is doomed to failure, I have no choice but to fight this war the conventional way. And to do that, I need to shut down Overlord. Without it, the Amsus's greatest strength, their co-ordinated numbers, will be negated. And I hope that will give us the opportunity that we need."
"Ok," Rick nodded, "you're mildly sexy when you pull diabolical arch-villain. So not only to we get to kick it to the Amsus, but we throw most of the known galaxy into a state of anarchy, as the Amsus suddenly have no way to co-ordinate their attacks. It's the right level of bastard that I kinda like, wanna have sex?"
Duncan steepled his fingers, "Strega's propaganda would have us believe that the Amsus are the good guys, but… while we're a long way from being right, the Amsus have no such concept, they are just manifestations of order and control. We are merely the advocates of free will and free thinking, and I think it is about time we give that gift to the Amsus. Let's see how they handle free choice. I have a feeling that Strega won't like the results."
Fight Deck - Kiov - Republican Territory
~~*~~
Hipper watched from the upper balcony as the recon scout was brought down to the hangar deck through the pressurized elevator. Along the hangar, marines were moving in to circle the vessel, maser-carbines up and at the ready.
His eyes narrowed as the side hatch retracted, and the pilot, Lieutenant Hawkins dropped down to the deck, slipping off his helmet.
"See that he's brought for debriefing," Hipper ordered to one of his officers, as he turned and marched from the hangar, re-entering the elevator to return to his bridge.
It had barely cleared five decks, before the whole ship seemed to turn upside down.
He was slammed across the elevator, connecting solidly with the wall and a burst of stars erupted across his vision. Through the fog and the haze he could hear the alarms beginning to sound, and he wondered, distantly, if they were under attack.
It didn't make sense, there was only the one explosion, and the force had been too powerful for it to have come from outside. The heavy armour plates would have taken the brunt of the force, the shock had felt different… like it had come from within.
Struggling to his feet, he pried the doors of the elevator open looking out in the nightmare chaos of his ship. Alerts were blaring, crewmen rushing about to damage control stations as the overhead PA blared out orders.
He needed to know what was happening, and that meant making it to one of the damage control stations located aboard. He pulled himself out and onto the listing deck, using his hands to help him as he slipped and slid his way along, passing ruptured piping and crewmen desperately trying to put out electrical fires, the nightmare of any ships commander.
Damage control was manned and running dutifully, the Damage Control duty officer directing his crews as they wrestled to get the situation under control. The Admiral taking his place at the head of the situation table.
"Damage report?" he commanded.
The beleaguered Officer turned, "We've lost virtually everything in the hangar deck, sir. If it wasn't for our ordinance shielding, we'd have lost the whole damn ship."
Hipper nodded. The Kiov was a Command Carrier, with fighters and bombers capable of carrying vast quantities of ordinance, including nuclear armaments, the designers had prudently placed a large quantity of redundant shielding between the lower flight decks and the rest of the ship, in case there was a mishap down below. The extra layer of armour had saved their lives when the explosion had torn through the hangar.
The Kiov's flight deck bisected the ship, running the length of the ship like a gaping hole through its middle. Everything below that section was hangar support, engineering for the flight crews, and pilot berths. From where Hipper was standing, the Kiov no longer had that section, gone in an instant, torn apart by the nuclear blast.
"How did this happen?" Hipper demanded.
The damage control officer called up the video footage, showing the deck crews crawling all over the VI-223 moments before an explosion tore through the fuselage, causing the image to descend into static.
They'd been betrayed.
An Amsus first strike.
"I have to get to the bridge," Hipper stated, turning from the damage control centre and marching through the deck again, his face grim as he weighed the consequences of the attack.
Rounding a corner he came face to face with a beautiful woman in a torn flight suit. Despite the appearance of the suit, however, she appeared completely unscratched.
"Admiral Hipper?" she asked, her platinum blonde hair falling perfectly around her beautiful features.
Something about the way she said it, and her appearance, rang alarm bells in the old Admiral's head, and he took a step back away from her. "Who are you?" he demanded.
She took a step forward, advancing on him. "I bring a message from the great Mistress, that she can strike at any time, any where she needs to, and you will never know." Her face shifted, features changing as she took on his appearance for a second, laughing manically as she turned running down a side corridor and vanishing into a startled crowd of crewmen.
"Stop her!" Hipper demanded, pointing after the fleeing pilot, who vanished from sight.
Carrier - enroute - Eelim Enclave
~~*~~
Ben waited until Rick had departed the bridge before he approached the command chair, a mug of coffee in his hands as he stared at his old friend.
"Resurrection isn't what it's cracked up to be," VonGrippen remarked from his cloak of shadows. "I'm too young, all I think about is sex… not to mention the pimple I've got growing under my bangs… I have the feeling I should be overly emotional… but then I've never been tempermental."
"It is good to have you back," Ben said with a light smile, extending the mug to his old friend, taking the spot that Rick had just vacated. "What did he want?"
"A plan," VonGrippen replied tiredly. "And since my grand plan has gone straight to hell, I figured it was a good a time as any to start coming up with something."
"Little over due in my opinion," Ben sniffed glancing at his watch, and back up again. "Are you… you, or still confused?"
VonGrippen set his hands on the arms of the chair, straightening up commandingly, "I am exactly who I was the moment the mental engram was created. The question is, Benjamin, how you come to be here. Rikard didn't see fit to clone your DNA in his little test-tube farm on Phobos."
"I am the last of the original GN-2s… the last next to Sephradon. We are remarkably well designed, that and I've been exposed to bloodroot…" he gave a simple shrug of his shoulders. "Unavoidable since I've had to spend the last three hundred years splitting my time between Peligia and the Gorean Imperium."
"What went wrong?" VonGrippen asked, sipping his coffee. "Why am I here and not…"
Ben sighed tightly, "my visions are far from perfect, you know that. I didn't take into account the fact that Rikard would duplicate the GN-3 project, and so when I saw what I saw, and assumed was you, may in fact be…"
"Edward," VonGrippen folded his arms. "Things certainly are… unexpected."
"Challenging," Ben nodded. "He has help though…"
"Yes, Darien Taine," VonGrippen nodded. "Then Peligia will have to be left to them, while we focus on the more pressing task of dealing with the mess Earth was left in. Strega seems to be the best place to start."
Ben shook his head, "the one we need to worry about is Sephradon, she's not going to be happy once she learns you have entered this great game."
VonGrippen sat back again, setting his cup down on the arm of his chair, "that is tough, she was, after all, the one who decided to bring me into play. Now, you are a semi-transcendent, how do we fight her?"
"The same way you did the Kule," Ben offered. "With Peligian technology and Polian wisdom."
"Both of which are in short supply," VonGrippen mused. "we need to create a new option." He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "There is still one of the great races we haven't accounted for. And I have a feeling it is about time that the Kule had something positive to contribute to this universe…"
"When was the last time you slept properly?" Ben inquired, looking into VonGrippen's eyes. "You know that there are limitations to constructs, even the GNs seem bound by the… need of the flesh."
"I don't feel it," he said shaking his head. "Not as acutely as the others seem to. My mind isn't wired the same," he tapped his temple. "I have never had what people would call an addictive personality."
"It is a measure of control I think," Ben said. "It also explains the high percentage of homosexuality amongst constructs. Sex is easier between men than it is between men and women. It's a survival mechanism, you gravitate towards the easiest partner you can find."
"I wouldn't know," VonGrippen said quietly.
"Must be hard for you, isolated from your emotions," Ben said sadly. "I always pitied you that, not knowing when to laugh… or even permitted the release of tears."
"Only one," VonGrippen stated, he rested in his chair. "I miss her, Ben…"
"I know," Ben nodded.
CIC - Kiov - Republican Territory
~~*~~
Hipper stood before his situation table looking unnerved as the Marine Major stepped up, saluting.
"No one reports seeing the woman you described anywhere on ship," he reported.
"No," Hipper stated dryly watching the support ships as they moved around the crippled Command Carrier offering their assistance. "Nor will you, it… what ever it is, is gone for now… the Amsus wanted a message sent to the Republic, and they have done it. The question becomes, what the hell do we do now?"
Admiralty - Hong Kong - Amsus Occupied Earth
~~*~~
"The Inquisition hereby finds you guilty as charged on all counts. In the interests of time we will proceed directly to sentencing… Ready arms."
The weapons lifted in a wave as the Amsus troopers obeyed the Inquisitor standing in the parking lot before the squat headquarters building. They sighted in on Sergeant Hendricks, Colonel Lee, Karen and Michael.
Off to one side Luther wrestled against his bonds.
"You can't…" he bellowed trying to get free.
"Stop," Rei, beside him equally as bound shook her head. "You can't save them, allow them some dignity."
"Aim," the Inquisitor barked out. The weapons levelled.
"I can't let you do this," Luther yelled, ignoring Rei's warning.
"Fire!" the Inquisitor turned his merciless eyes upon Luther as the DT-09s barked, gunning down the members of the insurrection. Standing at the foot of a Raptor ramp, Lucius was smiling.
"Is it done?" he demanded looking at the pile of bodies distastefully.
The Amsus trooper checking the bodies for signs of life, finding a twitch he switched his assault rifle over to fully automatic to spray the corpses to be sure. Turning and offering a tight nod to the GN-2.
"No…" Luther felt his knees buckling out from under him.
"Bring them," Lucius ordered gesturing at the two officers. "Return the other trash to the cells."
The Amsus troopers rushed to obey, dragging Luther and Rei up and into the Raptor's hold, throwing them both into the security cell and latching them securely inside. While another trooper led the silver eyed woman away and back into the prison.
Lucius folded his arms and pursed his lips, "Earth isn't secure, we should transport these prisoners to High Command directly for interrogation, prepare for launch."
His Inquisitor inclined his head and hurried to obey.