Plewa, watching with admiration from a few dozen yards away, instructed his men to switch to automatic fire in an effort to clear away the properly armed and armoured soldiers that had taken the place of civilian fighters. Although these new soldiers had body armour strong enough to withstand the impact of one or maybe two flechettes, multiple strikes compromised them completely.
A sudden explosion nearby threw Plewa into the air, along with three other Marines who were closer to the blast point. Momentarily stunned by the twin impacts of hitting the ground and explosion, he lay motionless and unable to move, watching with detached abstraction as a large armoured tank finished pushing through the rubble and began traversing its gun towards where he and the other fallen Marines were now lying. Struggling to focus properly, he was strangely fascinated by the last traces of smoke leaving the tank’s gun barrel. As if from a distance, he could hear Marines calling his name and asking if he was OK.
At the explosion, Gallagher snapped around, quickly assessing the blast's aftermath. His readout told him Plewa was in trouble and the other three Marines lying there either dead or dying. Knowing he had only seconds to act, he leapt off the crippled hulk below him and ran full speed at the huge tank that was bearing down on the fallen Marines, covering the distance in moments. Several other Marines had made the same decision to switch to heavier flechettes, and as they began firing to support Gallagher, the tank began rocking from the impacts to its turret and armoured body. Unlike the smaller flechettes, these heavier slugs caused parts of the tanks interior walls to liquefy and spray super-heated metal around, igniting anything flammable. The tank crew didn’t feel a thing when the HE shell being automatically loaded into its breach ignited, blowing the turret clear of the hull. It landed several yards away, crushing a number of advancing troops and making the others duck down and scatter.
Gallagher stood his ground, setting his suit to auto-fire, making himself the obvious target instead of the downed Marines, hoping to draw fire away from them.
Suddenly, the killing zone was covered with darkness as the sun was blotted out by the bulk of two Imperial shuttles taking position overhead. Point defence weapons on the shuttles opened up and began scything down any advancing troops and taking out the remaining tanks. High in the sky overhead, the accompanying fighters had split into three groups, one taking station above the shuttles, the other two taking out ground forces and any VTOL aircraft launching from their hidden hangers which had managed to avoid the drones.
Gallagher hurried over to Plewa and lifted his suit upright, supporting him under the shoulders, noting that DeGrizzo and Walker had gone back to Fl. Lt Harris and were moving her towards the shuttle, using their shields to protect her whilst the enemy soldiers were being cleared from the immediate area.
The acting Corporals began organising an orderly withdrawal to the shuttles, which had lowered themselves to within twenty foot of the ground and extended wide ramps from their rear, out of which poured fresh, heavily armoured Marines who quickly moved out into the surrounding area and began clearing it of any remaining hostiles. The Emperor could be seen fighting at their head, his sword rising and falling like a metronome before the enemy routed and began withdrawing. Within minutes the lightly armoured Marines from the crashed shuttle, along with their fallen comrades and the body of the dead pilot, were safely aboard and ready to depart.
For the moment electing to stay on the ground with his Emperor, Gallagher made sure Plewa and Harris were aboard before watching their shuttle depart with the rest of the original cohort. He walked over to a mobile smart-metal station that had been set up and plugged in his suit, instructing it to reform itself into the same heavily armoured variant as the others.
The Emperor walked over to him, idly flicking his sword from side to side to remove any blood from the blade and began speaking while Gallagher’s suit reformed. Both their helmets had been retracted so they could see each other’s real face.
“We’ve taken several of the soldiers and civilians that weren’t too badly wounded for questioning, Patrick. Now we have full communications restored I’m sorry to tell you that the remaining Diplomats were all killed shortly after the shuttle was taken out. The more we discover, the less I like what happened here. We were obviously set-up.”
Gallagher closed his eyes for a few moments and recalled the faces of the men and women with whom he’d spent the last few months. Whilst not close, they were still comrades and he mourned for them and their families.
“I’ll be personally wanting to let their families know Alex, but a personal message from you too would help with their loss,” he said, looking at his friend.
“Of course,” Alexander nodded, “I will write personal messages and append them to yours. Just confirm to Vimes when you are ready to send them”. Thinking for a moment, Alexander continued, “After a suitable period I’ll arrange for all of the families affected here today to visit Capital as my guests. They can stay for as long as they wish and Vimes will make sure they will want for nothing. It’s the least we can do to compensate them for today’s monumental foul up.”
“I have to take responsibility for that Sire, I’m sorry,” Gallagher apologised.
“Don’t go all formal on me, Patrick, there’s more to this than just a simple foul up or lack of preparation or whatever the damn reason was,” Alexander exclaimed. “No, this was well organised and planned. If not for blind luck and my son's disregard for anything apart from himself, we would probably both be dead instead of just my poor bodyguard.”
He looked up at the sky for a moment, watching the dense smoke as it rose up from the ruined tanks. It mixed with the dust and ash hanging in the air from the crash site and burning fires. “It was that and the confusion our appearing with two, and not three shuttles that messed up their plans and panicked those fighter pilots into detonating early. Sheer, blind luck.”
“What are you going to do about Adam?” Patrick asked, changing the subject.
“I’m not sure Patrick,” Alexander replied, “but I want him out of my sight for a while. Not only that, he needs to be kept safe until we expose and deal with whoever was behind this. What’s his mother going to say?” He sighed deeply and squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. “I’m not looking forward to explaining this all to her.”
Gallagher nodded sympathetically, then looked around at the destruction and carnage. “What are we going to do next?” he asked.
“It’s a short hop over to the original welcoming site to pick up what we can find of the diplomats and show the local soldiers we mean business, then back to Dauntless to check on your injured survivors. You up for that?” he asked, then laughed loudly at his friend’s response.
“Does the Emperor shit on a golden toilet?”
“You know I do Patrick, you know I do”.
Scene 6, Crown Prince
Adam woke up to a mild headache and the comforting feeling of a soft, warm body snuggled up behind him. His eyes struggled to open and his dry mouth felt as though it belonged to someone else. A shapely feminine arm came into focus as he finally pried one eye open and struggled to concentrate.
“That was some party,” he thought, smiling as the memories come back, some more clearly than others. He asked his AI to remind him of the woman’s name, and was surprised when it didn’t respond.
“Oh, that’s right, I switched it off last night. That was silly of me,” he thought, although it had made perfect sense at the time.
Blinking, Adam swung his legs over and sat on the edge of the bed, leaning forward and holding his head in his hands. The sudden movement made the pain in his temples peak for a moment before subsiding. Pushing himself upright, Adam looked around for the bathroom door as he badly needed to take a pee. Entering the small cubicle, he leant one hand against the smooth wall in front of him and with the other directed a stream into the bowl.
“Ah, that’s much better” he sighed, moving towards the wash basin and cleaning his hands. Splashing som
e water onto his face, Adam idly examined his reflection. Tall, good looking and powerfully built, Adam was a younger version of his father with just enough of his mother to make him even more handsome. He ran his hands through the curly mop of hair that people always found so fascinating.
“Another good reason for not accepting a commission. I’d have to cut this lot off,” he said to no-one in particular. “No bloody way.”
Adam padded back into the bedroom, his head still a little tender, but the ache lessening as he moved.
Last night’s love interest lay under the covers where he had left her. She had been celebrating a promotion of some sort and was clearly flattered at his approach. Despite little make-up, she was stunningly gorgeous and he felt something stirring as he remembered the previous evening’s activities. Smiling, he moved back to the bed, slipped under the covers again and began stroking her right arm. “For what I’ve in mind,” he thought, “I won’t need to remember her name.”
Her eyes slowly opened and she responded to his caress, moulding herself into him, feeling his obvious interest. She had woken up while he was in the bathroom and had been waiting for him with her eyes closed.
“Morning handsome,” she murmured, reaching down to hold him, “whatever do you have in mind with this?”
Not saying anything he pulled her even closer and started kissing her neck. Reaching her mouth, they began kissing while he moved his left hand down between her legs to see if she was ready for him. She moved her hips forward, pressing them into his hand.
Both lost in the moment and their rising passion, neither noticed the door open and an armoured figure enter, stooping to get under the header.
“Lights,” an amplified voice rang out.
Immediately, the room lights came on at full intensity illuminating the couple who came apart and sat bolt upright, startled by the sudden interruption. For a moment, caught like two rabbits in a searchlight, they simply stared, looking at the figure while their eyes adjusted.
“Get dressed and come with me. Now,” the armoured figure addressed Adam, its head turning towards the woman. “My apologies, Flight-Lieutenant Schmidt.” Looking at her naked breasts for only a moment, Alexander retracted his helmet so she could see his face. “I can see why my son decided to miss this morning's Ascension ceremony, disconnected internal systems and caused you to be absent from a Red Alert.”
Schmidt was dumbfounded, confused and becoming very, very angry with Adam. “Just what the hell have you gotten me into here, you idiot!” she shouted, “You turned off the sensors and alarms so I missed an alert?!” Looking at the Emperor she started to apologise but was cut short.
“I’m fully aware of what happened Flight-Lieutenant,” he interrupted. “I hold you blameless in this matter and Vimes has already spoken with your commanding officer to explain your absence. I do believe, however, that it would be best if you didn’t try to contact my son again until he is off this ship, assuming by then he hasn’t found someone else to share his bed.”
Her jaw dropped in shock at his words.
Stunned for a moment by what had just happened and the interplay between his female companion and father, Adam suddenly remembered her name. “Maxine that was it,” almost saying it out loud. Adam jumped out of bed and marched naked over to his father, looking up so he could stare at his face.
“What makes you think you can…,” he started to shout until his neck was squeezed by his father’s gauntlet and he noticed the sticky blood still spattered on the armour. He was lifted up onto his toes and carried back over to the bed where his father half threw him down onto the covers.
“Be quiet, get dressed, say your goodbyes and meet me outside in five minutes. I’ve just spent this morning picking through body parts and checking on friends in the infirmary, so I’ve no inclination whatsoever to listen to your puerile arguments. You are already in enough trouble, Adam.” With that, Alexander nodded at Lt. Schmidt, turned around and ducked back out the way he came.
Turning to Maxine to say something, Adam was hit by a ringing slap to the side of his face, so hard it made his teeth rattle.
“You utter bastard. Just what high-level shit have you landed me in Alex?” she shouted. “I’ve only just won my commission and now the Emperor himself has had reason to talk to my CO! You bloody idiot. Get out and stay away from me.”
With that, she jumped out of bed and walked naked to the bathroom, slamming the door behind her. Moments later the sound of a shower could be plainly heard.
Ruefully, Adam rubbed the side of his face and reached down to fish his clothes from around the bed. Whilst not at all scared of his father, he wasn’t going to make matters worse by keeping him waiting. “He’ll come around,” he thought, pulling on his socks. “Dad never stays angry for long, I’ll just do what he says for a day or two and keep out of his hair.”
Dressed, Adam finally remembered to switch his Aide back on, a stripped-down, less intuitive version of Vimes. Immediately a stream of information began scrolling across his vision, all highlighted in red. Stunned by what he was seeing, especially the news of the ambush and death of his father’s bodyguard, Adam realised with a sinking feeling that just staying out of his father’s way probably wasn’t going to be enough this time.
Reaching the door, the last thing he heard before leaving Maxine’s quarters was the sound of a fist hitting the bathroom wall and a muffled “Stupid Bastard.” He didn’t care to stay and discover whether it was aimed at herself or him.
Alexander was waiting quietly outside, leaning against a wall, having taken the time to allow the walls to absorb a large part of his armoured suit which had reduced in size to one more suited to the ships interior.
“Walk with me son,” he said, starting off along the corridor, through officers’ quarters and towards the nearest transit tube, not bothering to check if Adam was following.
Adam hurried to catch up, debating with himself whether to apologise or just say nothing. Deciding on the latter, he matched his father’s stride. Whilst there was no need for anyone to salute whilst in the officer’s accommodation area, people moved respectfully out of the way as they approached. Alexander nodded to one or two of them he knew personally, but kept quiet and said nothing until they had reached the tube.
“Get in please, and listen,” Alexander said, motioning to the entrance and then following him inside. They sat opposite each other. The normally rapid tube set off slowly, instructed by Alexander to travel at a modest pace. “I’d hoped that you would have appreciated the significance of today’s ceremony, using it as a start towards your preparations for when you eventually become Emperor.”
He looked his son in the eyes, “But, yet again you failed me. And your mother too.”
“I know father and I’m sorry. It won’t…” Adam started to speak before being interrupted.
“No it won’t happen again, Adam, because for once we are going to do something about it,” Alexander interrupted. “You will join the Imperial Navy. Not as an officer, because you don’t deserve it, but as a Rating. How quickly or slowly you rise through the ranks will be down to you.”
“But Dad, what about my, my…?” Adam paused, trying to think of a reason, but coming up with nothing.
“You knew this day was coming, son. It’s just a bit sooner than either of us thought.” He paused again before continuing. “There is another, perhaps more pressing reason for you to join. No, hear me out,” he said, before his son could interrupt. “Gallagher and I believe,” he paused, “…know, that today’s events were an assassination attempt. Not by the fools on the planet but by third parties from within the Empire or one of our external enemies. Only someone with a great deal of resources and money could have arranged this without our knowing,”
“You and I were the targets today, Adam, and it was only blind luck and the distractions of your Lieutenant friend that saved us from dying along with my bodyguard. I need to get you somewhere safe and where safer than on a Navy ship sur
rounded by loyalists, learning the ropes out on a six-month tour of the Marches of Sector 29? With the two of us so far apart, it will make their job that much harder, whoever they are.”
“Six months!” Adam exploded, not having paid much attention to anything else his Father had said. “It’s at least three weeks’ travel time just to get there!”
“Think of it as your penance for this morning. My mind is made up Adam. Being so far away you will be out of regular contact, so I’ve decided to let you take my own personal yacht with a full copy of Vimes to keep you company. He’ll provide letters of introduction to Commodore Haynes before coming back with the ship. Haynes is a good man; someone I can rely on to look after you.”
Moments later, they reached the hanger bay where Alexander’s private yachts were stowed. He was sending Adam away in his favourite. Over one-hundred-foot-long, fully half of its mass and length was taken up by engines and weaponry. Fully automated and capable of deep-space operations, it was provisioned for long journeys if required. In recent years, as the press of Imperial business weighed down on him, Alexander rarely had a chance to use it, but for a time he had tinkered around with the engines and configuration until he had a ship that suited his needs and temperament.
Imperium: Betrayal: Book One in the Imperium Trilogy Page 6
