Legacy of the Ancients
The Prophecy
Marc 'Lionheart' Peasgood
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and
incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used
fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or
persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
First and foremost, I would like to thank those that have been instrumental in shaping my life, and helping me to get this on paper, my mom, my dad and my older brother Phil. I extend that thanks also to my GCSE English teacher, Claire Hardman, for pushing me down this path, for which I am forever grateful.Thanks to my buddies, Gary, 'Barry', Jordan and David, for allowing me to relax at times and get a break from writing till my fingers bleed. This also goes for Linus and Asphyxia, even though at times I get bored, frustrated or confused while raiding with them. Thanks guys!
**Chapter One – Hope**
Day 5 – 04:21
Routine Patrol
On-board Strike Cruiser 'The Repentance' – The Landurial Gulf
Aimee Wentz
Silence gripped the bridge of The Repentance as it slipped through the immaterium and entered real-space a couple of parsecs from the planet Melheime.
"Sir! I'm picking up an automated distress signal from Melheime. Would you like me to alert the troops?" A young woman at the Communications hub said.
"Distress signals? This is the Landurial Gulf! How could the Legion possibly be this far out? Let me see this..." Captain Lazarus said before stroking his facial hair and turning to look pensively into the view screen at the planet that lay before them.
I checked my rifle and yawned. I wanted so much to get off this damned cruiser and back onto solid ground, and back to clean, un-processed and un-recycled air which was pumped around The Repentance. I slammed my locker in frustration and perched myself on the end of my bunk when all of a sudden the communication node in my room barked, causing me to jump half out of my skin.
"Attention, all Squad Leaders and Mercenaries are to report to the bridge. This is a matter of urgency and you are requested swiftly." Came the adjutant's voice.
Sighing, I grabbed my jacket from the desk and slipped it on, before vacating my quarters and making for the bridge.
"As many of you can probably tell, we dropped out of slip-space several minutes ago. This is because we have received several distress signals from the planet you see before us – Melheime." Captain Lazarus motioned to the view screen behind him.
"There is a piece of information however, that sticks out like woman in a gay bar. They were sent at least 3 days ago, and no specific details were sent either. The later signals speak of a threat attacking the capital, but that threat was never identified. We can only assume it was the work of pirates at this moment, as after getting a direct link to Fleet Commander Zaunik, nothing has got either side of our blockade in months." Coughing, the captain takes a drink from a hip-flask, before continuing. "I do apologise, I seem to be rambling. Your mission as Squad Leaders is to go down there and determine what exactly happened, and if necessary, you are to rescue any survivors you find. You Mercenaries are to provide support. Each of you will be assigned to a squad according to your speciality. If anything should happen to your Squad Leader, you are to take command. You are also only to report to myself, the two Lieutenants on board and the Squad Leaders in this room. Any questions?"
The line of men and women standing at attention just stood silently. Then Lazarus noticed a mousey chap (whom he thought shouldn't have even made it past basic) with his hand barely raised over his head.
"Yes?"
The man looked around at pointed at himself, clearly taken aback that he was the only one that didn't understand the mission. Lazarus just nodded and fought the laugh attempting to burst from his mouth.
"Umm... S-s-sir?" He stuttered. "Why do we n-n-n-need to send so many soldiers? I highly d-d-doubt that pirates would still be planet side."
"Son, did you learn anything in basic? It just isn't profitable for a band of pirates to assault a city and leave. They would stay and utilise the industrial facilities until the last possible moment. We have been monitoring space traffic since coming out of slip-space and there has been absolutely no movement. Either they are still on the planet, or they weren't pirates. Do you see my point?"
The man just looked at the floor: his face crimson with embarrassment.
"Any serious questions?" Lazarus said, with a slightly more acidic tone than he had probably gauged for.
The soldiers, excluding the man who had spoken before, all chanted 'Sir, no, sir!' in unison.
"Alright then. Full briefing will be covered in roughly an hour's time. Take this opportunity to check your gear and get ready. Dismissed."
Aimee sat back in her chair and sighed heavily. She had been so eager to get planet side earlier, so what had changed? She tried to picture the city she would be in in around an hour or two. She also thought about the possible hostiles that would probably be down there. Why didn't Lazarus send only the Mercenaries? Seven of us would be more than a match for a battalion of Pirates. Sending a small army against Pirates would be overkill. Why would the captain send that many people down to what is probably a backwater mining world? She sat up and reached for her glass on the desk in front of her.
Empty. She cursed under her breath and stood up. She opened the locker that she slammed earlier and gazed at her rifle. It was an immaculate LSR-73, the current top of the line rifle. It had cost Aimee roughly 2.9 million credits, but it had been worth it. A rifle like this could kill a target at 4,000 metres in the hands of an expert, and Aimee wasn't exactly an amateur. She was one of the best snipers hired by 'Aspiriant Corp', the most prestigious Mercenary group working under Imperial territory. They were trained by the Ex-Imperial Hero known only by his codename 'Cain'.
Sirens wailed suddenly, causing Aimee to jump for the second time that day.
"Would all combatants report to the briefing room. I repeat. Would all combatants report to the briefing room. Briefing will commence in 5 minutes." The computer chirped.
"Well. I suppose I best get going then." Aimee grabbed her rifle and slung it across her shoulder and picked up several spare energy cells, before leaving her quarters.
Day 5 – 04:21
Preservation
A Forest On the Outskirts of Melheime City
Sergeant Marco Burnside
I awoke with a start. Rain was falling like hammers all around me, and my body groaned from the exertion of the past few days. I coughed heavily and opened my eyes. I wondered how long i had been out of it. I could taste blood in my mouth. It felt as if several of my ribs had been broken also. I sat in the shadow of a tree in the sodden ground and tried to collect my thoughts. I recalled the deaths of each and every member of my squad and squirmed. How had i been lucky enough to survive? Should i check on the others? Maybe Carlson would still be alive. No. I couldn't fool myself. They were dead. I saw them die with my very eyes. There was only one place I could go now. Central Command. If my memory served, there was a reserve fleet patrolling; I just hoped that i would be able to contact them.