The Empire's Corps: Book 04 - Semper Fi

by Christopher Nuttall

  ***

  Mandy felt her blood running cold as Lightfoot powered its way towards the colossal defence station. They had the right codes and excuses to visit, but if someone noticed that something was wrong, they were in deep shit. One defence station might be under rebel control, yet the others weren't – yet – and there were still the automated weapons platforms. The freighter was a sitting duck so close to the planet.

  But nothing happened as they docked, allowing her to stroll onto the station and start walking up towards the command core, followed by two of her crew. The corridors were littered with crewmen and women, all knocked out by the gas; Mandy checked a couple of them, just to be sure, before telling herself that there was no need to be paranoid. If Admiral Singh was still in command of the station, she wouldn't need to play silly games.

  She stepped through the airlock and smiled as she saw the rebels. “Good work,” she said, reassuring them. They weren't Marines – or even Civil Guard – and yet they’d taken control of the station without losses. “Make sure you tie up your former allies. Stunned people don’t stay stunned indefinitely.”

  “Understood,” the leader said. He sounded terrified his face was sweaty ... and yet he’d led his people to take the entire station. Admiral Singh’s security officers would be humiliated when they found out. “The station is under your control.”

  Mandy nodded and sat down in front of the main console, testing it out. The station was still linked into the command datanet, but the datanet itself was only in low-power mode, which was a relief. If the datanet had been running at full power, trying to coordinate the defence of the planet, it would be impossible to disguise the fact that something had gone badly wrong.

  “I’ve removed the command overrides,” she said, after a long moment. “Half of the Admiral’s fleet is within weapons range; the rest is outside, gathering its strength.”

  The leader looked at her, worriedly. “Is that going to be a problem?”

  “I hope not,” Mandy said, grimly. It had been a great deal easier sabotaging Sword. “But the bastards may become a wild card.”

  She keyed the final set of commands into the system, then smiled at him. “We’re ready,” she said. “All we have to do now is wait.”

  ***

  Vice Admiral Sampson was sitting at his console, monitoring the preparations to launch the striking fleet towards the Commonwealth when a new message popped up on his display. He frowned, puzzled, at the header – there was a vitally important message being relayed over the datanet – and then clicked on the message. The screen changed, displaying a young woman with long red hair. She seemed oddly familiar.

  “... Been held prisoner by Admiral Singh, but I have escaped,” the woman said. “My children and I were held in a hellish chamber to ensure that my husband would remain loyal ...”

  Sampson stared in disbelief. The woman wasn't just familiar; she was the wife of Commodore Hicks, one of his senior officers! Hicks was a loyal man, but Admiral Singh had insisted on taking hostages from his family anyway, just in case. Since then, Hicks had comported himself well, although Sampson was sure he’d seen pain in the man’s eyes when no one was looking. Who knew what was going through his mind after his superior had taken such pains to assure herself that he would remain loyal?

  The picture changed, switching to show a young girl with long black hair. “They touched me,” she said, in a bitter broken voice. The camera pulled back to reveal that she was pointing to her thighs. “They ...”

  There was a motion behind him. Sampson spun around, one hand reaching for his pistol, to see the Operations Officer drawing his. Of course, he remembered; the man’s own son was a hostage too. But now ... he unhooked the holster and started to draw his pistol, but it was too late. The Operations Office fired once, shooting him right in the chest, before turning his attention to the rest of the staff. Sampson stared in horror, feeling blood flowing out of the bullet wound, realising what it meant. Admiral Singh’s forces were no longer under her control. Everyone who had a loved one held hostage would turn on her.

  And then the Operations Officer walked over to him, put the barrel of his gun against Sampson’s head ... and pulled the trigger one final time.

  Chapter Forty-Three

  This should not have been surprising either. Admiral Singh’s government was personalised, rather than a deliberate attempt to build a new system. She was largely incapable of looking past any goal other than power, hence her willingness to embrace Horn and others who largely preyed on the weak and powerless. Her house of cards depended on her survival.

  -Professor Leo Caesius, Authority, Power and the Post-Imperial Era

  “Admiral!”

  Rani sat upright in bed, one hand reaching for the pistol she kept under her pillow. She’d told her staff that they weren't to bother her in bed unless it was truly urgent.

  “Report,” she barked, as she clutched the pistol. “What’s happening?”

  Her aide tapped the main display. “It's on all channels,” she said. “The hostages have been freed.”

  Rani stared in disbelief as Charity Yamamoto, the daughter of one of her senior officers, told the world about how she’d been held prisoner – and abused. That wasn't true; Rani had given strict orders that none of the very important hostages were to be abused in any way, beyond losing their freedom. But it wouldn’t matter, she realised dully. All of the officers she’d refused to trust without holding one of their family hostage would turn on her.

  She gritted her teeth, thinking hard. Where were those officers? There were some on the orbital weapons platforms, some on the industrial nodes ... and a handful on the starships. If they all turned against her ...had they planned it out from the start? Had Horn’s death merely been another part of their plan to take back their families and destroy her? Or were they only just realising that her hold over them was gone?

  But Horn hadn't had anything to do with the hostages. Rani hadn't wanted to put a card like that in anyone else’s hands – and besides, she didn't really trust Horn not to allow his baser tendencies to run free. What was quite useful when it came to interrogating suspects would be disastrous if used on hostages with powerful relatives. No, someone else was behind it – almost certainly one of her officers ...

  “Get it off the datanet,” she ordered, sharply. “Now!”

  “We can't,” the aide admitted, cringing as if she expected Rani to shoot her at once. “Whoever is uploading it has the clearance codes to send the message everywhere.”

  “Then destroy the source,” Rani snapped. She pulled herself out of bed and grabbed for her uniform. “And then order my shuttle prepped for launch.”

  The aide blinked. “Admiral?”

  “I will be safer in space than here,” Rani said, crossly. The main strike fleet contained plenty of loyalists – and their loyalty wasn't secured by hostages. It was possible that some of them might have thought better of supporting her, after the other hostages had been freed, but if she allowed that fear to paralyse her she might as well surrender now and beg for mercy. “And I can regain control of the empire through the fleet.”

  The ground shuddered. Rani’s attention was drawn towards the window, just as there was a blinding flash of light in the distance, followed by a colossal fireball rising up into the air. External Security’s headquarters were in that direction, she recalled, as well as several other departments. The rebels might have problems deciding if they wanted to take out External Security or the Civil Service headquarters. Her bureaucrats were hated almost as much as Horn’s Internal Security, a remarkable achievement.

  Her aide was listening to a message coming through her implants. “Admiral, there are reports of shootings and bomb attacks throughout the city,” she added. “The insurgency is in league with the rebels!”

  Patterson, Rani thought, angrily. The bastard had been promoted because of his superior’s death. She saw it now; Horn had been deliberately assassinated, just to ensure that a rebel s
ympathiser was promoted into the top job. No doubt his plans to restructure their security had served as cover for moving insurgents into the city. She should never have trusted a man who wasn't driven by lusts and perversions beyond normal men. Horn had had plenty of incentive to stay loyal; he would have been torn apart if the rebels ever managed to take him alive.

  “Get the shuttle ready,” she ordered. How long would it be before the rebels had HVMs in place? If Patterson was on their side, they could have looted a weapons dump and obtained thousands of the damned things. And that would be enough to shut down aerospace traffic all over the continent. “And then order the soldiers to move away from the red light district to secure the centre of the city.”

  It isn't over yet, she told herself, as her aide scurried off to obey. I can get into orbit and then I can regain control.

  ***

  The Governor’s Mansion was an impressive building, Jasmine had to admit; the designer had modelled it on the classical period of early Imperial history, creating a blocky building that seemed to be almost completely indestructible. Built out of hullmetal as it was, nothing short of a nuke or bomb-pumped laser would do more than scratch it, although it was nowhere near as heavily armoured as a battleship. The windows alone weakened the design.

  She allowed Blake to take the lead as they approached the guardhouse. Admiral Singh’s ground forces, not unlike the Civil Guard, had almost no female soldiers or officers, in stark contrast to her space forces. Jasmine had puzzled over that before deciding that it didn't matter. If Admiral Singh had taken most of the Civil Guard into her service, they’d probably just stuck with the previous arrangement.

  “Halt,” the guard snapped. They were clearly nervous; the entire city seemed to be going up in flames. Jasmine had ordered hundreds of attacks to be launched almost simultaneously; it wasn't a real surprise that some had begun ahead of schedule. “Who goes there?”

  Jasmine hid her smile as Blake stepped forward. “We have orders to serve as reinforcements” he said, holding out a datapad. The main datanet had already been updated to verify their credentials. “Where do you want us to go?”

  The guard CO looked hesitant. Jasmine felt a moment of sympathy; the city was breaking down into chaos and new guards would be very helpful, but he didn't know them personally and they might have other motives for visiting the mansion. False uniforms was an old trick; for all he knew, he was looking at rebels in stolen uniforms. And if he allowed raiders into Admiral Singh’s mansion, his career would be utterly destroyed.

  Come on, Jasmine thought, silently willing him to do what she needed him to do. Take the bait.

  “Get into the building and reinforce the inner defence line,” the CO ordered, finally. “Right now, no one gets past us unless they’re on the Admiral’s list.”

  The Marines slipped inside, then – at a signal from Jasmine – turned on the guards. None of them were ready for unarmed combat; Jasmine knocked the closest one down with a fist to the face, then saw Blake and Carl dealing with two more. Seconds later, the entrance to the Governor’s Mansion was secure.

  “There’s a private security network inside the palace,” Canada explained. The young man looked terrified, holding his weapon as if he expected to need it at any second. “We can’t break into it.”

  “We don’t have to,” Jasmine said. With one of the entrances under their control, they could bring in a large army. “Call the others. It’s time to trap the Admiral. And remember – we need her alive!”

  She smiled grimly as the insurgents slipped into the building. No alarm had been raised, but it would only be a matter of time – and then the Admiral would know what was happening, if she didn't already know. She’d used Patterson ruthlessly to try to suppress all communications between the hostage camp and Admiral Singh, but she doubted that she’d covered them all. Admiral Singh might well have established a private link between the camp and her office. And then there were the broadcasts the hostages were making ...

  She knows we’re here, she told herself, firmly. The only question is what, precisely, is she going to do about it?

  ***

  New alarms howled as Rani finished pulling on her uniform. “Alert,” a robotic voice bellowed, “the mansion has been compromised. I say again, the mansion has been compromised!”

  Rani felt ice running down her back as she checked the security monitors. A small army of insurgents seemed to have invaded her building, somehow having managed to get close enough to slip inside without being spotted. But if they’d had Patterson under their control, that wouldn't have been a problem. The bastard could have given them papers that would allow them to waltz right into the centre of her empire.

  “Seal the building,” she ordered, although she knew that it was already too late. The mansion was huge and it would take them time to search it all, but they’d find her eventually. She had to leave the mansion as soon as possible. “And then get the guards up here.”

  ***

  Lukas couldn’t stop feeling awe at the sheer luxury of the Governor’s Mansion, even as he crept down a wide corridor, weapon in hand. The walls were decorated with solid gold leaf, while there were hundreds of statues and paintings – some of them frankly pornographic – scattered everywhere. Lukas didn't know much about art, or why some paintings were worth millions of Imperial Credits while others were worth almost nothing, but it seemed to him that the Governor had squirreled away half of the planet’s wealth in his mansion. No wonder he hadn't been able to run when Admiral Singh arrived.

  He stopped in front of a pedestal, looking down at a tiny wooden box studded with jewels. There was nothing to indicate what it was, or why it held pride of place in the governor’s display; absently, he opened the box and looked inside, only to discover that it was empty. Closing it, he gave in to temptation and slipped it into his pocket, before heading further along the corridor. He wasn't the only one taking advantage of the opportunity to loot.

  The corridor came to an end, revealing a large ballroom that was just as ornate as the corridors, with a large golden throne at the far end. Lukas recalled from civics class that the throne was a direct representation of the Imperial Throne on Earth and that no one, not even the Governor, was allowed to sit on it. He couldn't help wondering, as the assault force stepped onto the dance floor, if the Governor had ever bothered to follow that law. The old man had certainly acted like a king before he’d been disposed.

  He realised his mistake a second too late. Out on the ballroom floor, there was no cover – and the enemy were lying in wait. Shooting broke out an instant later, sending several insurgents to the ground; Lukas threw himself down, silently praying that the enemy wouldn't hit him. It took him a moment to recall that he was carrying a weapon and that he could return fire. Switching to rapid-fire, he blew through a whole magazine while aiming towards the enemy position, then rapidly switched the old magazine for a new one.

  “Get back,” someone snapped. “Now, damn you!”

  Lukas crawled backwards as others provided cover, forcing the enemy to keep their heads down. He couldn't help noticing that seven of his comrades, boys he’d brought into the cells personally, were down, lying on the ground with blood staining the wooden floor. Bile rose in his throat as he saw that one of them seemed to have been cut open, his innards spilling out onto the floor. He couldn't help hoping that man was dead. How could anyone live like that?

  There was an explosion ahead of them, where the enemy were hiding. Someone had thrown a grenade. Lukas had been taught how to use them, but his superiors hadn't handed any out before they’d slipped into the Governor’s Mansion. He stayed down as others ran past, throwing the enemy backwards before they could withdraw. The training hadn't taught him how damn terrifying fighting could be.

  “Get up,” a voice ordered. Lukas felt a hand grabbing at his belt, pulling him up right. “Not long to go now, lad.”

  ***

  Rani could hear the sound of gunfire as she was hurried along by he
r bodyguards, heading for the stairs that led upwards to the Governor’s private landing pad. He’d kept a luxury yacht for his personal use – Rani had given it as a reward to one of her officers – and he’d used an equally luxurious shuttle for transport between the ground and the orbiting ship. Rani had appreciated the precaution – there had been riots on the planet before her fleet had arrived, as rumours of the Fall of Earth spread through the population – but she’d replaced the luxury craft with a heavily-armed assault shuttle. It would provide much more protection for her escape.

  “They’re breaking through the barrier at level seven,” one of the bodyguards said. He was conditioned – or Rani would never have trusted him, not now. Her senior officers had to be considering their own futures in a universe without her, even the ones she’d trusted without resorting to hostage-taking. One of them might even aim for supreme power. “They’ll be up here within ten minutes.”

  Rani nodded, gritting her teeth. Most of her guards were fighting – and dying – to hold the line long enough to allow her to escape. Once she was safe, she promised herself, she would see to it that they were rewarded for their devotion. And if they didn't survive, she would reward their friends and relatives.

  The building shook, violently. “Explosion in sector seven,” another bodyguard said. “Cause unknown.”

  “Rebel attack,” Rani said, bitterly. They’d pay. Oh, how they would pay! “Is the city secure?”

  “Unknown,” her aide said. “The soldiers are under heavy attack.”

  And their superiors were among those who had their families held hostage, Rani thought, bitterly. Maybe they no longer feared her. And why should they when she no longer had a weapon to hold over their heads? They’d pay for their betrayal in time.

  They ran up the stairs as the sound of gunfire drew closer, finally reaching the landing pad. The shuttle was already powered up, ready to go. Rani allowed herself a tight smile as she was rushed onboard, the airlocks closing behind her, cutting her off from the Governor’s Mansion. Even if her attackers reached the landing pad, it was far too late to stop her from escaping.