The Ifierin formation marched on, slowly but steadily towards the inevitable clash. Resistance had faded as the Guild forces had fallen back to the rally point at the junction. Axyn pushed his troops to pick up the pace; all the while scanning the surroundings for signs of usable cover. His attention focused in on a couple of bulkhead doors hanging from the roof; massive chunks of thick metal over six feet tall. The roof was lined with these pressure doors every fifteen feet before the hallway opened up into the grand entrance in the distance. There was his cover; it may take more than a dozen of his men to move each of these doors into position, but they would provide protection in a time of need.
Sending the orders through the shared channel with his troops, they turned their plasma fire to the task of cutting down the bulkheads. As the first fell, it struck the deck with a bang so loud it shook Axyn’s bones and dented the floor beneath. Ifierin stepped up to the door and lined up side to side as they lifted it from where it had fallen before beginning to push it down the way. One after another, the other bulkheads were cut loose and pushed along with the first; the helmets they wore automatically cancelled out the sound of screeching metal as they scraped over the floor. Soon, nine doors were brought down and the Ifierin fell in formation behind them; taking turns pushing them the last few meters to advantageous positions. Axyn could see the enemy closer now, and could tell they were confused at this latest development. Ifierin were resourceful and cunning warriors; any part of the environment that could be used to aide their mission, would be utilized.
In response to their actions, the plasma mortar began to fire rounds upon them. Waves of white hot plasma rained down on his troops; most were caught and deflected by energy shields, but some were caught unprepared and incinerated in a splash of molten fire. Quickly, the barriers were put into final positions and the Ifierin gathered in-mass behind them to trade fire with the enemy front lines. Try as they might to target the mortar cannon, it was well shielded and defended; even the best shot was blocked by shields or bodies to ensure it keep functioning.
Axyn had halted his forces and had them fall back a bit where the original hallway opened up into the grand plaza that led to the blast doors. They left two of the massive bulkheads out in the open; a waste of good cover, but the new position provided a reprieve from the mortar rounds. The lower ceiling prevented the cannon from dropping fire from above as any shots hit the crest of the entrance and stopped there. Here they would wage their war and only advance when the upper hand was gained. Here the possible stalemate began, though Axyn doubted they would last long once the enemy circled around the station to flank them. At best, he calculated they had five or six hours before they were trapped; he hoped the others were having better luck than he was.
—
Havyiin Orbit; Lyarran Flagship Lyarra’s Fire
Just as they were starting to leave the Ops Con of the Lyarra’s Fire, a data burst update provided by Caretaker was announced by a single tone and stopped the three in their tracks. Bryx was the first to reach the screen and read the report; an up to the moment review of their forces and how they were faring. His face went blank; and instantly Lyxia knew all was not going well. She rushed over to see for herself, and as she read the report her heart sank.
“I have to go to Thsin!” she yelled. “I have to help Axyn.”
“Your place is here.” Iana said soothingly and calmly. “You cannot help them now. All we can do is our part in what is playing out; the rest we must have faith in our allies to complete theirs.”
“But they are pinned down!” Lyxia argued. “Four hundred feet from their objective they are against an army and high powered weapons. They are outmanned and outgunned.”
“I agree with the Council.” Bryx added. “The Elite too are faced with insurmountable odds; both parties are looking down the road at certain defeat if we don’t intervene. If they fail, what hope is there for us to succeed?”
“It isn’t over yet.” Iana smiled. “Though we cannot help them, it is certain that other parties will look to join in. On the eve of defeat, is it not the dawn that lightens the way once more? Have faith, my friends; let it all play out. Our cause is just, and it will make others rise to the occasion. Heroes come from the times when the outlook is the darkest, and our heroes have yet to stand and be seen.”
“So we can’t help them?” Lyxia asked sadly.
“We have our part to play, and our time to do it, approaches quickly.” The Empress answered. “There is no time for us to enter the fray with them now. So we refocus, and do what we must. The endgame approaches and it is incumbent on us to act.”
She motioned them to follow, and led the way to the shuttle bays. Reluctantly, Lyxia and Bryx followed after sharing a look of concern. Down the halls they followed her; the empty ship was ghostly silent and only their footsteps ended the emptiness. Lyxia choked down her frustration and began to prepare herself, for when they reached the shuttles she would be going alone. Infiltration and sabotage, all she had to do was insert a Caretaker made device into the palace security control and the program would take care of the rest. Then all she had to do was sit back and watch the show; worrying the whole time about her dear friend Axyn and if she would ever see him again.
—
Outer Fringes of Ryas Space; Guild Stealth Vessel
Aen read the data burst carefully with a frown; all was not going well with the plan thus far. Both fronts showed troubling trends and both were in need of intervention of some kind. On Ryas, the temple had been filled to the brim with Forgotten; the Guild had been stockpiling assassins in secret for some time now and no one could have anticipated this kind of opposition. Two hundred Elite against the untold number of assassins that continued to file out from the ancient temple; even though they would never admit to it, the J’Karin were in a no win scenario and certain death.
On Thsin; things were much direr as the Ifierin had no hope of reaching their goal. Axyn’s men were pinned down and their numbers were being whittled down by the minute. The report also held an analysis showing the chances of succeeding at less than ten percent; and that figure got lower each moment that passed. It seemed the entire station had been staffed with Guild forces, and thus made any attack futile. Aen was frustrated and furious with himself; he should have seen it coming or at least planned for heavier opposition.
Once his forces were defeated, they would descend on Havyiin to defend Myril and intercept his attempts to right the great wrong. He had to choose a fight to join; the other would be left to fate as there was no way he could be in two places at once. It was the first time Aen felt the true pain of command. He could only help one of them, the other he would have sent to their deaths. He threw the data pad across the room; it shattered to pieces when it hit the wall. Even though he wanted to struggle with the choice, the answer was clear before even posing the question.
Caretaker would be upset with him for delaying the inevitable this long; from the very onset of him reading the report and his position in relation to both planets, it was clear he would jump into the fray on Ryas. But that meant leaving Lyxia’s forces and his daughter to the mercy of the enemy; a thought that didn’t sit well with him. With a sigh, he spun his chair and adjusted the black ship’s course to return to Ryas. He was minutes away from orbit and he hoped all would not be lost before he arrived.
FOURTEEN
Guild World Ryas;
Temple of Divine Light
Narig stumbled back to the stair railing and rested his weary body. Around him, the sounds of battle raged on as the hours since the fight began had rolled past five. Bodies lined the ground, and blood of more than a few different colors stained everything else. A quick head count told him that he was down to just over a hundred Elite left, and a glance up to the temple gates at the endless stream of Forgotten told him that his forces were looking down the dark tunnels of death. There was no glory in fighting an impossible battle; his greatest fears looked to becoming true.
Beh
ind the stack of bodies of his adversaries, Narig tried to catch his breath. For the time being, he was unseen by the enemy forces and was using this momentary pause to regain his composure. A leader had to be steady to a fault; any show of nerves would reflect poorly towards him. And even now in the face of certain defeat, he chose to be the stalwart leader until the end. He took one more deep breath and stood upright to rejoin the fray when his comm line activated unexpectedly.
“Are your forces clear of the structure?” a voice asked.
“Our forces are localized in the courtyard.” Narig said in exhaustion.
“Good, then heads up!” the voice explained.
Instinctively, Narig looked skywards as the night time blackness lit up orange and red. His eyes followed the light from its origins above the clouds as it backlit the night, to it rushing through the cloud cover and punching a hole through its billowy blanket. As the temple was so large and tall, whatever was streaking through the sky struck the lookout peak of the structure with epic results. The roof exploded in flames; the roar of the impact cascaded down the temple sides and hit the combatants unawares. Both sides stopped fighting to turn their attention to what was happening.
Whatever it was that had struck the top of the temple didn’t stop at the roof; it kept going and crashing through floor after floor as it made its way downwards. Each floor it passed erupted in flames and exploded outwards through the windows and doorways. Bluish white flames belched out from the openings; spitting out charred remains of any occupants unfortunate enough to still be there. Floor by floor the explosions continued as the impact descended. The skies began to rain ash, burnt flesh and bone. It was a dismal and frightening sight to behold, but the J’Karin saw it as a new lease on life; letting out roars of approval and jubilance.
With the enemy distracted, the Elite seized the moment to strike back hard. Narig noticed he was standing beside the hammer he had gotten stuck hours earlier, grasped the handle with both paws, and used his feet to increase the leverage to pull as he braced his weight against the wall. With the added time of the apocalyptic fire crashing down through the temple, he was able to afford turning his back on the fight and pull with all his might. This much force being utilized, there was nothing that could remain stuck as the hammer quickly pulled free from the ancient wall.
Raising the mighty weapon in the air he bellowed at the top of his lungs. With the hammer once again in his possession, his confidence was not only restored, it was increased ten-fold. A quick glance up at the calamity raging downwards through the interior of the temple reassured him the droves would no longer be endless. The enemy was now occupied on two fronts and his forces could now make headway. Narig roared once more and hurled himself over the pile of corpses and down into the mob of attackers; the hammer poised above his head in readiness. As he descended, he swung it down with all his might. It struck a few Forgotten on its way to impacting the ground; obliterating the bodies it struck.
The tide had turned once more, and what had once been taken from them early on, belonged to the J’Karin again. They fed on the reprieve from a foul fate as they fought with renewed exuberance. No longer did they fear the untold numbers still belching out the gates; no longer did they distract themselves by looking on in frustration at the waves of opposition. War hammers cut huge swaths in the crowd, blades severed heads from bodies, and bare claws tore the assassins apart piece by piece with enthusiasm.
It wasn’t until the explosions closed in on the lower floors that the sounds of battle faded for the first time in hours. Deafening booms and the screams of those trapped within took over from the clash of arms; the heat of the fires began to be felt in the courtyards below. Ten floors from the main, the sound was so intense it once again stopped the battle. Both sides simply looked on in shock and awe at the immense power of whatever had been let loose in the temple on Ryas.
Three floors left, and the doors were literally blown off the building as they flew overhead at break-neck speeds. The fires within were more controlled now, spitting out to each direction separately. Narig took notice; instinctively knowing it was not merely a weapon launched from orbit but something much more dangerous. It was something of an intelligent nature, the screams and cries from within the halls of the grand structure told the story of beings being hunted by a superior predator.
Then he noticed the flow of the assassins turn; while they weren’t retreating, they had determined that the evil within was much greater than that posed by the J’Karin Elite. Instead of being relieved, Narig was insulted and led his forces to charge in an attempt to take down as many of the scoundrels as possible. He swung his hammer wildly as he ran; crushing bodies left and right as they rushed up the stairs.
Now the second story exploded violently; even the main gates shook wildly from its effects. Narig watched as assassins both alive and dead flew out of the portholes. All were burnt or still aflame as they fell to the ground below. As he reached the top of the stairs, he reached out and grabbed a Forgotten by the head and stopped him in his tracks.
“Watch as your world burns.” Narig hollered to be heard over the cacophony of fire and pain; lifting the struggling assassin off the ground with one paw clutching its skull tightly. “See the failure of your masters on the day of your would be victory.”
His words barely escaped his mouth when the main floor erupted loudly and flames shot out the main gates to consume the would-be reinforcements rushing inside. The force of the blast was so great, the flames spat out the three hundred yards to the top of the stairs to lash out at the helpless prisoner held outwards. His screams died in his lungs as the very air he breathed was lit on fire. Narig let his prey fall to the ground and rubbed his paw; his tough leathery skin had held up in the flames but still hurt from the burn.
He stood there and looked on at the chaos that had ensued since the transmission he received. All around Narig was death; the battle which only minutes ago was in doubt was now over with an emphatic victory. They were triumphant, though extreme intervention was needed to attain such a glorious result. He was both relieved and exhausted, barely noticing his brethren joining him atop the stairs. Celebratory slaps on the back or shoulders announced their presence, along with barks of joyous jubilation. Though the others looked about and enjoyed the moment, Narig’s focus remained fixed on the gates which at the moment looked like the entrance to the underworld with flames curling out to lap at the stones outside. It was this focus that narrowed in on movement within, and had him ready to catch the spear thrown at him from a lone survivor that rushed out at them.
His skin was burnt, armor melted near off, and his eyes glossed over in rage as he clutched a long sword in his left arm which dragged across the stones. Lips were burnt and curled up, showing the teeth baring in a horrid little snarl. Narig simply flipped the spear around in his paw and flung it back at whence it came; impaling the assailant through the chest. He staggered, stopped, but would not die as he reached out with burnt fingers towards the gathered J’Karin in some desperate attempt to keep fighting.
Then the half-dead Forgotten tensed; a groan gargled from his throat before he just turned to ash before the J’Karin’s eyes. For a moment, he was a perfect statue of dark grey stone before a breeze collapsed the figure and let the ash fall lightly to the ground. Never before had they seen such a thing; so focused on the lone and defiant figure lurching towards them they failed to notice the predator behind him which had stalked him from within the hellish confines of the inner chambers.
“It is done.” The odd-looking Ifierin stated as he approached the Elite.
“From the edge of darkness you have delivered us into the light of glorious victory.” Narig greeted him with a deep appreciative bow of respect.
“It is one for the book of legends.” Aen replied. “Your ancestors can whisper the tale to whomever will listen for eternity.”
“What is next for us here?” Narig asked. “Now that the temple has fallen, what more is needed of us?”<
br />
“Reinforcements are incoming from Pax in the form of ten battalions of Ifierin,” Aen began. “Once they arrive, you have an entire populace to police. Weed out any forces cowering within, and simply keep the comms down while letting everyone witness what will happen on Havyiin soon. If they were loyal to the Guild before, they will question that loyalty before the day is out.”
“And this you are sure of?” the J’Karin commander questioned.
“We have dealt a crushing blow to our enemies here, and worse yet they don’t know that the heart of their new Empire has fallen. Even if our forces on Thsin fail, the Guild cannot get to Havyiin before I make my move to stop me. For thousands of years, a revolution was carefully planned before acting. In the span of one night, we have nearly ended it; something I will finish as the entire Empire watches.” Aen replied as he looked upwards to his ship parked in orbit high above. “Today our enemy knows our true power; today they learn they cannot take what they thought was already theirs.”
—
It was the first time he felt like the God he was touted to be as he floated above the temple in high orbit. There wasn’t time to land the ship - risking it being known - and running to the rescue, so he decided for a more dramatic approach. Dressed in his dusty old armor of his original disguise, he simply walked out of the airlock and drifted to the proper position. Linking himself with the temple below was as simple as casting a gravitational anchor to hold himself in perfect unison with it high above.
Ghosts of Lyarra Page 34
