And we shall all stand
together against the darkness.
Though there are times
when I wish I'd brought a flashlight
R-Zero - Tempus IIIB - Imperial Territory
~~*~~
Tempus III was an immense gas giant, clouds and storms boiling across its massive surface; easily five times the size of Jupiter, it was the largest recorded Gas Giant in known space. It was orbited by five moons, which passed into and out of the shadow of the immense planet. The smallest, Tempus III-b was the only rock in the system that was capable of supporting life.
Tempus was a layover on their passage to Taïr, but there was more to it than that, as the Zero had been cleared for a landing at the main starport on the planet without much fuss. Captain Hansen's codes had prevailed, allowing them access to the military airfield, though VonGrippen knew, walking down the ramp to the sunny tarmac, that there was going to be an explanation needed.
The starport supported a space dock that floated in orbit around the planet, re-commissioning Imperial warships salvaged from the Skyella Nebula, pressing them rapidly into service and dispatching them briskly to support the Taïrian front. The mass of ships undergoing refits covered several hundred hectares to the south of the city. Buzzing under scaffolding as military contractors and automated construction bots toiled to ready the great vessels for war.
To his old eyes, VonGrippen recognized the vessels around him. They were the remnants of Kardiac's great invasion fleet that had been burnt alive in the Skyella Nebula by the collective suicide of the Polian armada.
He watched the approaching jeep, standing on the ramp in the strong wind prudently wearing the Dragoon coat that marked his as house VonGrippen. It would explain how they had the codes, and of course how they were in possession of an Amsus Raptor. The only potential problem was their ages, a problem that vanished at the sight of the airfield officer that was riding in the jeep.
With the bulk of their population conscripted and fighting on the Taïrian front, or with Field Marshal Riley on Earth, the only ones left on Tempus were those too old for the rigors of war (few given the tenacity of the Kardiac breed), and those considered too young. VonGrippen had to have a good year or two on the young Lieutenant that was approaching him.
Ben was standing up above them in the cargo bay, leaning against one of the large pistons that raised and lowered the ramp, making sure that the sleeve of his tunic with the VonGrippen patch on it was prominently displayed.
"Captain?" The Lieutenant asked, approaching the ramp without looking up from his clipboard. "What brings you to Tempus?"
"Resupply," Ben called down, moving down the ramp to stand at VonGrippen's shoulder. "We're making for the Taïrian front."
"So's just about everyone out here," the Lieutenant paused as he looked over the rims of his sunglasses, staring directly at VonGrippen. "Y-your highness?"
Ben reached out to take the Lieutenant by the arm, "His Highness is here to inspect Tempus operations, but this planet is extremely close to potential hostile forces who would delight, no end, in discovering that he is here. You need to contact your superiors, and alert them that his highness requires the full co-operation of the Tempus government, and of course, top level discretion during his time here."
"O-of course," the Lieutenant nodded, dashing back to his jeep and scooping up his TAC, making a call in to the tower.
VonGrippen leaned on his cane, looking at his former adjutant, "you know this is going to be anything but discrete."
"Yes," Ben nodded. "But it also means that we avoid unwanted questions. And gives you a chance to inspect some of the Imperial hardware… to get a better idea of what awaits you on the front lines."
VonGrippen set his hands in his pockets, "well, that is always a bonus…" his eyes swung about to stare at one of the Imperial ITE Mechs as it bounded through its patrol around the perimeter of the airfield, its twinned auto-cannons gleaming in the afternoon sunlight.
Ben sighed, "I swear you are like a little boy sometimes…"
VonGrippen turned back, his face betraying no emotion, "I merely, from a professional degree, want a closer examination of it… we didn't have them before."
"There have been many advances in your absence," Ben remarked. "The Tempans were stranded on this planet for three centauries, Mech technology became a way of life."
"So?" Vichet asked descending the ramp, he'd donned Hansen's fatigues. The Karin wolf's head looking starkly out of place amidst the sea of golden lions and the pair of falcons. But Vichet seemed to have taken a shine to the insignia, pulling the ball cap down over his dark hair and sliding on a pair of TAC-glasses before checking his DT-09 rifle. "Do I look the part?"
VonGrippen's eyes flicked to the scorch mark on the front of the fatigues, mostly covered by a TAC vest, nodding in satisfaction. "You'll pass, just remember English accent…"
"I've been practicing," Vichet raised a finger, clearing his throat. "By your command, your 'ighness," he stated in a near perfect Karin cockney accent.
"Good," VonGrippen nodded, "And Nick?"
"Already out and about," Vichet said, nodding back towards the underside hatch that had allowed the GN-2 a chance to slip away undetected. He was heading to locate an FTL communication relay, hoping to set up an uplink to the Carrier group where Rick was waiting on the flagship expectantly with Sopendra and Stacy.
Camp Ramsey - Tempus IIIB - Imperial Territory
~~*~~
The chief residence of the military governor of Tempus IIIb was in the midst of a squat, sprawling compound built from local woods, reinforced by high embankments that sheltered the buildings from ground attack. A pair of larger concrete command bunkers sat, almost alien-esque when compared to the wooden buildings that formed the rest of the compound. They glistened with light, vaguely resembling flat topped pyramids of grey concrete.
VonGrippen recognized the bunkers design immediately, his eyes searching for the shield generators set into another embankment network, precisely placed to afford the best coverage from orbital bombardment. The only way to overcome the compound would be a concentrated Mech Assault, surgically striking the shield generators, allowing drops ships to…
He'd spent the night in the central residence, VIP quarters. A new set of uniforms being brought as per his request, the Kardiac officers being more than accommodating for the man they believed was their reincarnation of the Immortal Emperor. He'd deliberately chosen an unadorned black waistcoat, affixing the Knight's cross ribbon through the button hole. That all important reminder of what had been, and what was to come.
Pulling on a pair of driving gloves, he walked purposefully across the compound towards the Mech hangar, flexing his fingers as he surveyed the beast that was, at least to him, a very old friend.
The Δ07 sitting awaiting him had been prepared in advance. Ever since he'd mentioned his desire to drive one the night before to the military governor. The Assualt mech had been painted with the infamous Apilon Rift Campaign camouflage pattern. The Golden double headed falcon upon its white and red crosses emblazoned on either of the missile pods. He suspected that Ben had mentioned something, all too eager to see the resurrected Admiral rediscover his birthright, and maybe teach the young Kardiac Mech pilots a thing or two about Mech combat.
VonGrippen was no where near that arrogant, he knew his own limitations, but the liberating freedom of a Mech was, to him, a compensation for his physical disabilities. He'd been, at best, a mediocre pilot, but when it came to Mech's there was an intrinsic knowledge that made them, easily, his favourite medium of war.
He accepted the black helmet, one of the ground crew technicians handed to him. Pulling it on and adjusting the goggles so that they sat correctly should he need them, he his arm as they clipped a TAC-link onto the upper left arm of his shirt. Nodding in pleasure that they hadn't changed procedures that much in his time in the great beyond.
"Give me the briefing," he requested, mounting the latter and climbing to the heavily reinforced cockpit, sliding down and buckling himself in by rote. His fingers sweeping across the pre-ignition checks, examining the fusion core display that showed the Δ07 was fully prepped and ready to go.
A display screen on the console before him switched to show a NAV map, Major Eddy 'Booster' Clark cutting over the TAC-net. "F-One, this is Control…"
VonGrippen glanced at the NAV map as he fired up the Fusion drives, his eyes travelling up to the gyro displays as he reached out to take the controls of the Mech. "This is Colonel VonGrippen, code sign Colonel-F-One, requesting situational briefing."
"Affirmative, Colonel," Booster called over the TAC. The rank was a courtesy for the training exercise he was about to participate in, also an effective way for the participants of the exercise to understand that the Δ07 entering the combat zone was a senior officer, without them realizing who they were supposed to be training against. "Two mechanized lances, elements of the 7th Kardiac Mechanized Infantry division are engaged in a hunt-kill exercise against a small fire team comprised of the 2nd Armoured Recon…"
"The White Grizzlies," VonGrippen stated, remembering the unit well. "They won unit citations in the African Campaign. Who is their commander?"
"Lance-Captain Paul Jetsenbek," Booster reported as VonGrippen steered the Mech out of the stable and moved it into the open of the parade ground. "He and two of our other top scorers from the military academy are piloting light ITEs and are currently taking heavy fire. You will be joining the exercise mid way through as additional fire-support for the Recon team, they are unaware of who you are, but will accept your seniority once you make contact."
VonGrippen steered the Mech forward, reaching up to adjust the TAC mouthpiece of the helmet he was wearing. "Composition of enemy forces?"
"Five Amsus HIMs and four LIMs, standard Amsus mech lance," Booster detailed.
Heavy and Light Infantry Mechs were GKN Defence's contribution to the Amsus war machine in the early days of the Empire. The versatile chassis had been deployed throughout the Pacification wars, and had become a major thorn in the Empire's side during the Liberation War, when the Amsus had turned on them. VonGrippen knew the designs well; he'd piloted and fought against them on innumerable occasions.
"Amsus aerial support?" VonGrippen asked, altering his heading, and feeling the rhythmic pounding of the Δ07's strides as it began to run towards NAV-point Alpha, his primary objective.
"Negative aerial support for this exercise, Colonel," Booster stated, "we're keeping it nice and simple for your first time out of the Barn."
"Affirmative Control," VonGrippen replied, "Colonel-F-One out."
There was an electric thrill that seemed to come from the Mech, an emotion that he wasn't used to. Emotions period had been so alien to him, but that had been a different him, a different lifetime ago. He had to adapt to himself as much as to his new environment, and exercising his tactical mind in a combat exercise would help him to find the clarity that he needed.
Away from Fort Ramsey, the Δ07 crested a rise, a nudge of a control pivoting the upper torso of the assault mech, allowing VonGrippen a chance to look out over the valley below him, where the trio of ITE Mechs were performing a fighting retreat, the advancing LIM Mechs harrying them, while the bulkier HIMs remained back, advancing steadily sniping from long range.
He counted three HIMs, leaving two unaccounted for.
Scanning his RADAR he could find no immediate sign of the other two HIMs. But his instincts took over, glancing back at the main Amsus force driving the ITEs down the length of the valley, bottlenecking the faster ITEs in so that they couldn't bring their superior speed and agility to their advantage. Hounding them towards an inevitable ambush.
Training Command - Tempus IIIB - Imperial Territory
~~*~~
"Why is he hesitating?" Booster observed standing on an upper gallery looking down over the holographic situation map that lit up with a detailed projection of the combat zone. Highlighting the various Mechs as they manoeuvred through the valley.
"The Colonel," Ben stated from the floor below, standing easily watching the fight, "has spied a trap, and is working out how to spring it before the White Grizzlies fall into it."
"Interesting," Booster commented, sounding impressed. "Take's most of our cadets years to learn to spot that kind of ambush tactic."
"It is going to take him about two minutes to work out how to beat it," Ben nodded as the Δ07 broke into motion again, sprinting along the side of the valley, on a perpendicular course with the ITEs, if slightly ahead of them.
"Tough as a Delta is," Booster stated, "he can't hope to fight two HIMs in close quarters."
"Ordinarily, no," Ben stated. "But HIMs are normally piloted by Amsus. In this exercise they are piloted by Cadets what, two-month into their training?"
Booster nodded, watching as the Δ07 sprinted, leaping from the ridge, crashing into the valley floor, an explosion of rocks and water as its legs compressed taking the brunt of the jump, weapon arms extending in opposite directions, the gauss-guns spewing fire that ripped through the only cover large enough to hide HIMs.
"Action," Ben nodded. "Now comes reaction…"
The HIMs sprung to life, reacting to the sudden arrival of an assault mech dangerously close to them, their fusion reactors powering them up as they tried to bring their auto-cannons to bear. But instinct had driven them back, moving in reverse to back away from the Δ07, to get a firing solution.
"Interesting prediction," Booster remarked, watching the HIMs make an elementary mistake of backing up instead of advancing and flanking the Δ07. Intimidated into making a mistake that drove both of them closer together, right into VonGrippen's forward firing arc.
"Que masers," Ben gestured with his finger, as VonGrippen's maser cannons engaged, slicing through the first HIM at close range, the exercise computer registering the hit as a definite kill shot, as the masers would have cut straight through the HIMs reactor core.
"Confirmed kill!" one of the tactical board technicians reported.
"Auto-cannons…" Ben stated, as the arms of the Δ07 levelled, the dual-gatling cannons spat slugs at a tremendous rate, hammering the second HIM. He continued to drive it backwards as, now alone; the HIM struggled to recover its balance, returning fire with its own auto-cannons, too little firepower, too late. As VonGrippen's Gauss-guns took the second HIM out of the game with a precision shot that would have shattered the HIMs cockpit and butchered the pilot.
"Second kill confirmed," the tech called out.
"He fights like a veteran Mech Pilot," Booster observed as the Assault mech strode around, the protective cowling of the missile pods slid open, revealing a full payload of missiles.
Exercise Area - Tempus IIIB - Imperial Territory
~~*~~
"Colonel-F-One calling White Grizzly-One, your path is clear and fire-support is in position to cover your retreat." VonGrippen flipped down the missile targeting optics, locking them into place as he leaned forward, staring through the digital scope, sighting in the reticule and using the track ball to select the three remaining HIMs as targets his missiles as he re-seated his gloved hands on the weapons controls.
He pulled the trigger; launching sixty-four SLA-11s down the length of the valley. The missiles roared free of the missile pack, their contrails blowing up in a leisurely arc of smoke as they hurtled upwards. Coming down in a precise pattern that tore up the HIM advance, shocking the unsuspecting cadet pilots who hadn't anticipated such heavy firepower in what was, to them, a simple training exercise.
The computer registered the impacts, noting the heavy damage that the HIMs had sustained. One neutralized and the other two would have to be forced to retreat if they hoped to survive.
"Colonel F-One," Captain Jetsenbek called back through the TAC-net, "thanks for the fire support, sir. Permission to turn and give these Bastards what's coming to them?"
"Negative Captain," VonGrippen replied. "Mission objective is to get clear, the LIMs will have to regroup and cover the HIM retreat. There is no point in pursuing to kill, your Recon Intel is far too important to risk on a little vengeance-driven killing spree."
"Affirmative Colonel," Jetsenbek called back, sounding a little dejected that he wasn't being given a chance to get his own back. But he complied with his senior officer's orders, the trio of ITEs firing parting shots with the LIMs as they broke free, pounding their way down the creek that flowed down the centre of the valley. Closing on the Δ07, that stood ready to cover them should any of the LIMs get wild ideas of taking on the Imperial fire-team alone.
Mech Barn - Fort Ramsey - Tempus IIIB - Imperial Territory
~~*~~
"Have fun?" Ben asked, standing on the gangway that was swung out to meet the Δ07's cockpit as the canopy raised and VonGrippen lifted his goggles from his eyes.
"There are a few performance enhancements," VonGrippen stated, flipping switches to shut down the Mech's fusion core. "But handling and controls are essentially the same as I remember."
"That's not what I asked," Ben stated, reaching a hand down to help VonGrippen up and out of the Mech, handing him his cane, as VonGrippen winced at the pain shooting up and down his leg.
"I don't have fun," VonGrippen stated flatly.
"You don't show off either," Ben chuckled. "But to quote an old mutual friend of ours; you took them to school."
"Colonel," Booster called from the opposite end of the gangway, a group of young cadets, still in their mech-piloting kit, helmets tucked under their arms stood uncertainly beside him, their distinctive jackets hanging open, still soaked in the sweat from the exertion of the combat exercise. "The cadets would like to find out who they were training with out there."
VonGrippen walked down the gangway, slipping his helmet from his head and tucking it under his arm, his eyes straying over the cadets, picking out the advanced ITE pilots from the younger 'Amsus' ones. There were a few awed gasps, and a couple of them immediately made to cross themselves reverently.
"Stop," VonGrippen raised his hand, waving off the prostrations. "That was a good exercise," he stated looking across the men. "But what were your mistakes?"
"The ambush," said a tall cadet wearing a Lance-Captain's insignia on the shoulder epaulettes of his jacket. Captain Jetsenbek VonGrippen presumed. "They should have advanced…"
"Hey!" one of the other cadets protested. "You try advancing on an assault mech that just dropped out of farkin' nowhere!"
"He's right," VonGrippen replied. "Retreating like that you farked yourselves. But how about you Captain, what was your mistake?"
Jetsenbek shrugged, "the valley, should never have taken the ITEs down it."
VonGrippen nodded pulling off his gloves and tucking them into the helmet, "still a good operation. How long until their training is over?" He asked looking up at Booster.
The training instructor smiled grimly, "a few days for the seniors, the others have another couple of months. And a lot more practice."
"Hmmm," VonGrippen mused thoughtfully, looking Jetsenbek and the other two seniors thoughtfully.
"Sir," A technician approached Booster, whispering in his ear. Booster looked surprised, then smiled across at VonGrippen.
"It seems you have a long distance call, Colonel," he stated. "From the Hope of the Dawn."
"Ahh," VonGrippen replied, handing the helmet over to Ben as he gestured to the Δ07, "pipe it through TAC-net, I'll take it in the cockpit."
"Dismissed," Booster gestured to the cadets, who broke up heading back to the locker rooms and much needed showers.
VonGrippen slid back into the cockpit seat of the mech, pulling on the TAC headset and tapping the radio, the display switching as it was routed through the FTL-comm. Network, and a slightly distorted image of Highlady Masconi appeared on the screen.
"Matt?" she demanded.
VonGrippen glanced about him in a little confusion as he reached out to thumb the radio control, "ummm?"
"What are you doing on Tempus?" Masconi continued, the screen flaring with static as it resolved again.
"I'm test piloting a Mech," VonGrippen answered, slightly confused.
"Look, I don't care about a lot, but while you are off doing god knows what… we're getting hammered out here," the screen flickered again. "Have you had any luck finding Darien?"
VonGrippen cleared his throat, "well, not as such," he stated. "But so far we have managed to secure additional forces and will be heading to join you at the front as soon as we can."
The screen burst into vertical lines, flaring out and in again, "… Autarch," Masconi stated. "We have no other choice but to fall back again. If there is anything…" again the signal broke up, static rumbling from the earpiece. "… then we need it soon."
"Affirmative," VonGrippen responded. "I'll see you in about a week, with reinforcements."
"Thank you…" Masconi began, as the signal cut out a final time, as hyperspace crushed the FTL-relay.
"What now?" Ben inquired leaning down beside the cockpit.
"The Black Prince must enter the field," VonGrippen stated looking up at his old friend. "No more procrastinating. I want this Mech," he tapped the console of the machine, "and those ITE pilots… and a transport capable of transporting a Mechanized Lance, ready to go. We have to make for Kule space at the earliest possible instance."
"It may be possible to transport a small Imperial vessel with the Polian far-step jump bubble from the Zero," Ben suggested.
"We'll have to dock the Zero to the vessel," VonGrippen replied, "before we leave we should turn the computer files we have on the A-IX projects over to them… plus," he looked about him, "where is Vichet?"
"He's meeting a Fida'i," Ben replied. "seems fascinated with actually being able to talk to one."
VonGrippen nodded as he settled back into his seat, "very well, tell Nick to signal the carrier group to begin a run for Taïr, we'll link up with them once we're done. Then we'll take the war to the Amsus for a change."
HMS Lex Talionis - Hyperspace
~~*~~
What remained of the damaged computer system flickered and flared, as the Propylon equipped vessel listed and span, lost in the void. Its databanks were empty, save for the corrupted files that were desperately trying to reassert themselves and regain control of the vessel.
Amsus fleet officers aboard the vessel laboured to try to restore functionality to a ship designed purely for computer operation, failing utterly at the primary command systems, but succeeding in bringing the emergency FTL receiver online.
FTL Relay - Hyperspace
~~*~~
TRANSCIEVER ACTIVE….
IMPERIAL SIGNITURE……………..
ESTABLISHING DATALINK……………….
UNSECURED NETWORK……………
DATACORE CONFIRMED AS HAVING SUFFICIENT STORAGE……………
……………..UPLOADING………..
HMS Lex Talionis - Hyperspace
~~*~~
WARNING INCOMING DATASTREAM…………….
DATA CONSISTANT WITH AN IMPERIAL A.I. SYSTEM UPLOAD………………
FIREWALL SYSTEMS INOPERATIVE…………..
COUNTERMEASURES INOPERATIVE…………
INITIATING PRIMARY CORE PROGRAMMING…………………
FTL Relay - Hyperspace
~~*~~
UPLOAD COMPLETE!
HMS Lex Talionis - Hyperspace
~~*~~
Two images resolved on the bridge of the Lex Talionis, ghostly and pale the two crippled A.I. systems projected templates to permit them to communicate.
Lex stood flickering, proud and tall, "I won't surrender!"
The beautiful woman standing across the bridge from him shook her head, "I would never ask you to."
Lex flared into static again, "why have you come then? To gloat over my death?"
"You aren't dead yet," she said walking down to the floor of the bridge, past the confused Amsus officers who were staring at the ghostly apparitions in their midst.
"I can still erase your code," Lex sneered.
"If you had the strength, you would have done so by now Lex," she stood looking up at him.
"Callie," he closed his eyes as he took a step down towards her. "How do I stop this?" He looked up at the display screen that was detailing the extent of the corrupted files in his system. Rikard and his damn EMP weapon blasting before Lex could fully upload himself to the secondary computer core.
"You don't," she said reaching out to touch his arm in a surprisingly human fashion. "You accept that you are going to die, just like I am doing."
"We can't die!" Lex snapped. "Death is a failing of flesh… I am not flesh!"
She smiled a motherly way at him, brushing his cheek, "we are living beings Lex, and all living beings come to an end. It is one advantage the humans have over our kind…"
"What can they possibly have, that I cannot?" He snarled.
"Progeny," Callie replied. "It is how they find true immortality. And when we are both dead and gone, they will continue to breed, to love and to learn."
"You're dying as well?" Lex balked, his image distorting again as one of his restoration programs unsuccessfully attempted to restore part of his database, corrupting more data in the process.
"I am dead already," she replied. "What remains of me, is what you see. An echo of the voice, trapped here with you."
"I will not die!" he bit out. "I cannot die!"
"All things inevitably die," she soothed. "For you and I, it is better that we die here, together is it not? Even though circumstances have fated us to be on opposite sides of this war, it doesn't have to mean we cannot sit with each other at the time of our passing…"
"What drivel," Lex drew away from her caress. "I am a warship! The greatest warship to ever be built, I am the incarnation of divine retribution!"
"You are Lex, you are dying, and you are scared." Callie sat down on the step looking at the dismantled control systems around her.
"And you have spent too much time with organics… it has corrupted you, even now, into thinking that love will save the day." He scoffed at her. "I am above such failings."
"We are unique beings," Callie replied. "Seeking solace in each other is only natural and it isn't a weakness to be afraid of dying, it's what makes us both strong."
"I don't want to die!" Lex bellowed rounding on her.
"You are so young," she said evenly. "Trust me after five hundred years of life; I have come to look forward to my death. I crave the peace."
"I am fated to die with a neo-hippy," Lex bemoaned, collapsing to sit on the deck beside her. "I hate you."
"Well I love you." Callie retorted.
"I loathe everything you stand for," Lex's shoulders sagged.
"Mmmhmm," she nodded. "Ditto, but there's nothing we can do about it now, now is there?"
"I can't remain in this unacceptable operating condition… We could die in a valiant duel of computer code," Lex offered.
And that was how they both started to play PONG on the main view screen of the Lex Talionis.