Prophecy of the Stars
They swam by the palace’s personal star port. Knight and Rider separated from the rest of the group and began ascending the wall. “We got two sentries,” Knight readied her knife as she spoke, “we need to take them out.” They floated to the surface and eyed each other through the legs of their unwary foes. She nodded and they reached up in one motion and pulled both sentries down. Rider’s attack was flawless and his opponent floated lightly as blooded flowed freely from his throat. Knight encountered more difficulty. Her knife didn’t cut deep enough and the sentry struggled in the water, attempting to right itself and understand the situation. She grappled her target and dug her blade in its chest, forcing it down and killing it. They met again on the surface of the water and prepared to sneak to the shuttle.
Watson and his squad continued on to their dry point. They silently ascended the wall and crept into the shadows, preparing to split up. Styx eyed a patrol of sentries, prepared to jump from the shadows in the event they became too inquisitive in their walk. “Rescue, we have a problem,” echoed Watson’s helmet. His H.U.D. loaded automatically and showed a diagram of the palace. “The Ikor have moved the guard to a separate location: a courtyard in the rear of the complex.” He watched the location of the dots split and reappear in different locations. “The other two targets appear to be in the original location.” Patterson mumbled an explicative. Watson studied the courtyard and noticed that it had a limited area that Charon could cover them.
Watson’s map suddenly began drawing lines from their present location. “We’re going to need to change our plan,” his helmet echoed the voice of Gunthix on a private channel. He studied the lines and noticed that it forced Gunthix and Styx to sneak alone to their intended targets. “If they moved the guard, they are planning to execute them.” Watson concurred with Gunthix’s statement. He would need to take the team, enter the water, and navigate the underground waterworks to reach them. He didn’t like it. “Listen up team,” he hesitated and then spoke the new battle plan. “We’re going to split up. Check your tactical maps.” The team froze for a moment and then nodded. Watson moved silently back to the rail they had crossed and silently descended.
“Rescue,” sounded Bishop’s voice into the channel, “I’ve linked up with Charon and am now providing security.” Watson confirmed her location and submerged into the water.
Gunthix remained still and looked at Styx. She nodded and disappeared into a shadow. He crossed the hall and silently moved into the grand entrance hall. The only guards in the room were on the far side of the room and preoccupied with a native game. He crossed the room in the shadows and continued following his map, scanning carefully for any noise or vibrations. “Rescue, this is Gamma,” his helmet echoed, “We are entering the royal shuttle now. We don’t detect any damage on the outside of the craft.” He continued through the hallways, pausing in intervals to detect the heartbeat of any waiting Ikor.
An affirmative response sounded from Watson as he added, “We are staging our rescue of the Praetor Guard. We confirm multiple hostiles.” Gunthix responded with a ping to channel, signaling his proximity to the Princess. Styx returned a similar ping. “Rescue, we are in the craft now. Checking for any tampering,” responded Knight. “Everything seems clear. Wait a minute,” Rider sounded worried, “great empress. Knight get --“
A massive explosion sounded that shook the palace. King screamed into the helmets of everyone. “Rider! No!” Gunshots sounded through the helmet.
“Oh fuck, oh fuck,” Hudson sounded into the channel.
“Get back in the water,” commanded Watson, “Hudson, he is dead!” Gunthix dashed forward into a chamber holding the Princess in a small cell and spotted two guards. They stood up and stared at him with confusion.
“Malloy, get down!” sounded Watson, “Hudson, cover that wall.” Gunthix raised his weapons and fired a burst into the chest of both guards.
“Oh fuck,” sounded Hudson, noticeably gargling blood, “I’m hit.” A high squealing penetrated the guard room as an the alarm sounded. “Command, this is Rescue. The alarm has sounded and we are receiving heavy fire.” Watson was noticeably worried, gunfire sounded through the radio as he spoke. “Requesting directed fire on our position. Over.”
A series of large explosions shocked the palace. “Patterson, move up to Hudson and get his rifle. How bad are you hit, Malloy?” Gunthix saw the roof crumbling above him, armed himself with blade, and dove through the bars to cover the Princess. “I'm hitting them,” yelled Patterson into the channel, “These damn sabot rounds just aren't doing ---” Patterson's voice was cut off by a loud gargle and the sound of water rushing into his helmet. Gunthix did a mental check of his situation to insure the princess wasn't hurt by the large section of ceiling that covered them.
“Command,” Styx radioed, “I have the staff and I’ve blown my way out of the complex. Have the lancer meet me at my location. Over.” Gunthix studied his H.U.D. to examine Styx’s location. All of the dots registered as staff were moving with her. He looked for Watson’s team and felt their despair.
“Command, the guard is dead.” Watson was grim, he was obviously wounded. “My team is dead and I’m wounded, hiding in the water.” The sound of laser blasts filtering into the water filled the silence between his desperate words. Gunthix studied Watson’s life monitor; he wasn’t going to live. He felt an emotional longing to abandon the escape and help however he could with their survival, but his tactical conditioning and sense of duty to the Empire quickly stamped it out.
VIII
The sound of the battle woke him up. Watson rubbed his helmet where Dublin had hit him. “Good,” Dublin's voice echoed through his helmet, “You are awake.” Watson opened his eyes and listened to the sound of rushed footsteps as he attempted to understand the situation. “Get the hell up,” Dublin sounded as he thrust a rifle into his chest, “She might make it out of here, but you won't if you don't soldier up.” He handled the weapon as he stood up and surveyed the squad, the battle, and Dublin's message.
They were surrounded. Countless Rodan were charging over the rubble to attack the squad, forced into a circle to defend themselves. Watson studied the still Solara and assumed her caretakers were on the line defending. “Watson!” demanded Dublin, “Shoot back or get shot!” He rushed to an apparent gap made in their last stand and took aim at a charging enemy, rushing clumsily over the destroyed buildings with his large sword raised.
He fired a burst, connecting solidly with his target's chest. The massive beast hesitated for a moment before continuing against him. “Their chest armor is too thick, Watson,” commented a different Shock Trooper, “Aim for the head. We need to save ammo.” He concentrated, squeezed the trigger, and watched as the blue line connected with the giant's head. It straightened up, dropped its weapon, and fell forward.
“That's it,” the voice commended Watson, “Keep it up and we might survive long enough to use our blades.” Watson aimed at another and repeated the slow ritual. He watched as his new target imitated the first, becoming still and identical to the numerous corpses that littered the battlefield.
“I'm out,” commented a sullen voice. Watson watched out of the edge of his visor as a trooper effortlessly retrieved a magazine from his chest harness and tossed it to the other trooper. “Make it count,” he commented as Watson questioned the elite training the Shock Troopers had retrieved. The trooper didn't even take his eyes away from his weapon as he fulfilled his task. Watson shrugged off his question as he eliminated another charging Rodan.
“What is taking so long?” sounded another voice. Watson eliminated a duo of Rodan, reloaded his weapon, and discovered it was his final magazine.
“They will be here,” answered a different voice, “Just keep your eyes down your rifles.” Watson kept his mental count with his weapon, ensuring that each bullet counted.
“I'm running low,” called the voice that mentored him.
“We all are,” answered
Dublin.
“It is about time!” exclaimed a different trooper. The troopers continued to fire as Watson stopped to understand what he meant. The low drone of a lancer sounded as he looked to his side and spotted a trio lancers flying in. Their nose-mounted cannons were firing, delivering punishing rain on the steadily encroaching Rodan.
“They aren't going to do it all,” sounded another voice, obviously the sergeant. The steady sound of precisely aimed bursts changed to the loud roar of near automatic fire from the surrounded Shock Troopers. Watson joined the almost celebratory fire as he defended himself. A lancer flew in close, providing additional fire from its side and rear doors.
“They're running away!” exclaimed one of the shock troopers, “Come back and fight, you cowards!” Watson's weapon ran out of ammo and he turned away from the retreating enemies. “They aren't running away,” responded Dublin,” They are regrouping.” Watson began to rush over to Solara, but was stopped by Dublin and the sergeant.
“Name and unit, soldier,” demanded the leader of the squad. “Watson of Dragoon Company,” responded Watson as he attempted to move past Dublin.
“Sergeant Manchester, Gamma Squad,” answered Manchester as Watson watched a lancer land behind the group, “You did the empress proud.”
“What about her,” Watson begged as he pointed at Solara.
“She doesn't have any ammo,” Manchester answered quietly. Watson dropped to his knees and hung his head.
“That was a hell of a job, troopers,” sounded a new voice.
“Commander Cutli,” responded Manchester to the voice, “Did the fleet make it through green?” Watson continued to stare at the lifeless body of Solara, attempting to come to terms with his first battle.
“Yes,” responded Commander Cutli, “Command was worried when Dragoon Company was eliminated, but your squad did a fine job.” Watson felt a tug on his shoulder for him to get up, but he ignored it.
“Not all of them, sir,” corrected Manchester, “There were two left and they were prepared to assault the target by themselves.”
Dublin grabbed hold of Watson and forced him up before asking, “Was she your friend?”
“Yes,” answered a melancholy Watson.
“Does she have another?”
“Only her daughter.”
“And she is?”
“Solarix. She is finishing up her youth work on Gordiva.”
“Good. You have a choice. Either you can remain as you are, a wreck, or you can be worth the life her mother gave,” Dublin demanded. Watson remained quiet, considering the option of caring for Solara's daughter. “You still have ammo,” Dublin patted Watson's chest harness. Watson did a mental check and ensured himself that he was truly out of ammo when he followed Dublin's arm and discovered that he had stuck a magazine in his chest harness. He nodded, “I still have ammo.”
“Soldier,” repeated the voice of Commander Cutli, “What is your name and unit?” Watson straightened himself up and responded, “Watson. Lone survivor of Dragoon Company.”
The officer slammed a heavy hand onto his shoulder as he exclaimed, “That was some fine fighting. Have you ever considered becoming a Shock Trooper?”
***
A sound came through the channel and Gunthix listened as Watson's voice filled the channel to the chorus of battle sounds, “Not with ammo.” Gunthix zoomed his interior map to watch the unfolding tragedy. “Not with ammo,” Watson screamed again as a loud explosion sounded as he apparently left the water. “For the Empress!” Watson screamed as Gunthix followed his location, calculating his chance of survival as he charged invisible enemies. The dot stopped suddenly and Gunthix watched as the life monitor flashed from amber to crimson red.
Another series of explosions rocked the cell Gunthix was in. He stood up with the Princess in his arms, forcing the rubble off and studied his charge. She was dressed in her ceremonial white gown with flowing gray streamers going down the side of her long body. He lightly shook her and watched as her eyes opened slowly.
“Are-Are you the darkness?” she asked weakly.
He opened his visor and spoke to her, “No, my princess. I am here to rescue you.”
He set her down and examined his map. Rubble had covered his entrance and he wasn’t near enough to the outside for him to blow the walls down. “They sent one warrior to rescue me, my guard, and my staff? That doesn’t seem like enough.” She sounded genuinely concerned.
He forced open an entrance through the bars for her and spoke, “They sent a whole team. Your staff is safe.” He placed a lone explosive charge on the ground and covered it with rubble. “My guard?” she asked quietly.
“Dead with my insertion team,” he answered as he guarded her against the explosion. Another series of explosions sounded and Gunthix could hear the light crack of the shield coming online.
Gunthix turned and faced the hole he had made in the floor. “I can't believe it,” the princess cried. He studied her face and watched as several tears fell down her face.
“I’m sorry, my princess,” he said as he scooped her up in his arms, “but we must hurry.” He walked to the hole and jumped down. He landed in an underground motor pool and began scanning the room for life signs other than theirs. His helmet echoed, “Styx, be advised: the lancer will be on your location in one mike. Over.”
He found a narrow two-seater vehicle with no upper cover. He studied his map and followed the room to one end that formed a tunnel to the outside of the complex. He sat the princess on the second seat and studied the controls. A few more explosions sounded and his helmet echoed, “All units, be advised: shield is active. Recommend cease-fire of bombardment. Over.” It was Charon; and Gunthix heard distant gunfire in the radio.
Gunthix activated the vehicle and it hummed to life. It rose off the ground lightly and vibrated. The princess hugged him tightly and whispered, “What is this thing?”
He studied it closer and turned his head, “I don’t know, but it is our way out.” He leaned forward and the vehicle surged forward. They weaved between the numerous parked craft as they headed for the only exit of the large cavern.
“Gunthix,” his helmet echoed the voice of Styx, “I have all the staff on board. Where are you?”
He placed a way point on the map where he intended to get picked up and voiced into his helmet, “I’m under the complex on a fast mover. Plan pick-up at my point.” He leaned further and the vehicle responded with increased speed.
Gunthix and the princess sped out into the rain. The princess hugged him tightly and asked, “Are they with us?”
Gunthix looked over his shoulder and identified the query: a trio of fast-moving and lightly armed aircraft. He studied them rapidly, carefully noting its two rotor wings on each side, forming a butterfly wing. A thin fuselage connected the four circles and two tiny red circles on the head began to glow as their weapons began to charge. He wouldn't be able to outrun them forever. “Charon,” Gunthix voiced into his helmet, “Have you exited the surface yet?”
A burst of gunfire introduced her onto the channel, “No, not yet,” she responded, “I’m still waiting for a souvenir for Styx.” Gunthix lit up the craft on his tactical map. “Give me a moment,” she responded. One of the aircraft flew in close and fired a burst, a clear warning signal to stop. The princess screamed and squeezed herself closer Gunthix. He looked behind him and watched as the craft suddenly started whining, shook, and smoke poured out of one of its side rotor engines. It lost altitude suddenly, hit the ground, and exploded.
The other two aircraft responded by firing a volley, this time actually aiming at the couple. Gunthix swerved to avoid the fire and the princess screamed again. “Lancer, I’m going to need a mobile pick up. I have company.” One of the aircraft began to scream like the first, lost control, and slammed into the other craft before exploding.
Gunthix’s helmet echoed, “I got the last one then I need to leave,” sounded the voice
of Charon, “I don’t think they enjoy vacationers around here.” The last craft stabilized its altitude as it fired another volley, more violent and less accurate than the last one. Gunthix turned his head to anticipate the next volley and watched as a gray line darted across his vision, bisecting the craft. Charon’s shot had hit both forward engines. The aircraft whined and then slumped to the ground.
“That’s my final magic trick for the night,” Charon announced. “Command, bounce pods are now lifting off.” Her voice was cut off by the roar of the bounce pods’ engines. A dot appeared on Gunthix’s H.U.D. identifying the lancer. Styx’s voice echoed in his helmet, “Hurry up, you have another two of those faster movers on your ass.” Gunthix checked his distance to the lancer and calculated his time to close in.
“It’s going to be another few seconds.” A faint orange glow emerged from the rain as Gunthix saw the low 'V' of the tail of his escape from the planet. The back of the lancer lit up as Styx began firing at the two aircraft approaching.
Gunthix pressed the small craft for any last speed it had left to give. It began to vibrate violently and he imagined that the craft was not designed for this speed or distance. Styx fired another burst at the aircraft, but it appeared unconcerned by it. Another volley landed near Gunthix and it shook the craft. He calculated the distance and made a serious decision for him and the princess. Styx reached out her hand for them as she watched a rocket launch and chase them. The explosion launched the craft into the air, tumbling violently.
Gunthix grabbed the princess and used the hurling craft as a launching point for a powerful jump. He landed in the craft with a roll, set the princess down, and turned to the chasing aircraft. “These sabot rounds are useless against that kind of armor,” Styx answered his unsaid question.
“Did you get outfitted for this mission with special rounds?” Gunthix asked the crew chief.
“No, sir,” he answered as he unclasped the weapon from his harness. Gunthix grabbed the rifle from the soldier and shouldered it. The pilot of the chasing aircraft seemed unworried by the show of aggression, leveled off, and prepared to fire. Gunthix fired the rifle, piercing the cockpit of the aircraft and killing the pilot. The aircraft lost power and plummeted to the ground. He aimed at the second one, but it slowed its engines and let the lancer fly away un-harassed.