Albion Palace,
50km north east of Westminster,
Britannia

"Hello – looks like something's got the Robes worried".

Sandringham glanced over at Katelyn Marshall, who stood, staring out of the small room's only window, which overlooked the central courtyard. The Blakists had turned it into a field base, to refit and rearm one of their Level IIIs.

"Whats going on, Kate?"

"Looks like they're getting ready to move out. Techs are clearing equipment away, putting up access ladders. I can see Malthus down there…he doesn't look too happy. More cyber-freaks coming through the gates. They're taking off their robes…just as well they have those jumpsuits underneath. They must be the pilots".

"Sounds like they've found some pockets of resistance…pretty substantial too, if they're calling up an entire Level III", said Kristina Constantinou hopefully.

The noise levels outside the room went up noticeably. They heard sounds of shouting, running, opening and slamming doors.

Sandringham stood up abruptly, knocking his chair over, "I've got an idea".

The other stared at him, confused by his sudden change in demeanour, particularly the dangerous gleam in his eye.

"I had this place built by an old-school architect. He had something of a fetish for ancient castles. Have to admit I'm rather partial to them myself. Anyway, long story short, he had a network of tunnels built under the palace, none of which show on the building plans. They can only be accessed through hidden entrances, located at various places throughout the building. Only did it so I could show off to visitors. Never thought for one moment they might actually come in handy. The nearest entrance is just down the corridor".

"Uh-huh. And how do we get out of here, first?" asked Marshall, gesturing around the small room they were currently being held in.

"Well, I'm guessing the fact the Blakists didn't kill us outright, means they have plans for us".

"Go on", said Marshall, her head cocked to one side, now listening intently.

"Well, suppose something were to happen to one of us…some kind of medical emergency, they'd have to respond, right?"

"I suppose so".

"Given I'm the oldest here…not to mention the highest ranking", he added with a grin at the others, "I guess it falls to me to be the casualty. I'll fake a heart attack – that ought to get their attention. Unfortunately, that means it falls to you to take out the guards when they come in. Not very gallant of me I'm afraid, but I think it'll be more convincing that way".

"Not a problem for me, sir", said Marshall, her eyes narrowing and hands flexing.

"I was on the women's rugby team at the academy, sir", said Constantinou. "They won't know what hit them".

"Excuse me sir, but what will we do, if and when we get to these tunnels?" said Andrei Piotrowski, speaking up for the first time since he'd joined them in captivity.

"Good question. The network leads to various locations throughout the grounds, but the one I'm interested in is the armoury".

"I like the way you think, sir", said Marshall, smiling approvingly.

"Well, I'm not proposing we take on the entire guard force single-handed, but we can at least create a diversion, which should give the rest of our people a chance to break out. Also, the central turret control system is located there. I had to give Alastor the control codes when we entered, but they can be reset from the control centre".

"And you know how to do that?"

"Of course. You think I'd have a defence system built around the palace and not learn how to operate it?"

Sandringham glanced around the room, "Any more questions? No? Then lets do this".


Cavaliers Mobile Field Base,
Wicken Caverns,
15km southwest of Westminster

"Can you get it to pan right a little and zoom in?"

Clearwater, Steele, Tamzarian and Jerricho were clustered around the makeshift UAV control station – essentially a folding table, with a laptop computer, hooked up to the drone's operating hardware. The remote control drones were a new technology to them, having always relied on conventional scouting methods. Unlike the recon probes launched by warships, which made a single pass over their targets before eventually crashing, these small, simple aircraft, seemingly used widely by Sphere militaries, flew high and slow, able to stay over their target for hours at a time, undetected, while sending real-time video feeds, only needing to return for refuelling. They had been loaned this one by their hosts and were putting it to use for the first time.

The operator did as requested, getting the drone's camera to rotate a few degrees to the right, while zooming in on the action below. It showed a large-scale mech battle in full flow. The image quality was easily good enough to pick out the distinctive tan-and-white paint scheme of the Blakist machines. What puzzled them were the black and light-grey schemes of their opponents. It was hard to say who had the upper hand, if anyone. It appeared truly chaotic, with the combatants spread over several square kilometres. The only good thing was that the action was taking place well away from the caverns and there appeared to be no immediate threat of discovery.

"The newcomers appear to be driving the Blakists north towards the capital", observed Jerricho.

"Either that or the Blakists are deliberately falling back", said Tamzarian. "While it is difficult to judge from a distance, they do not appear to be fighting as fiercely as they did against us. It is almost as if they are trying to lure them toward the city".

"You think they could be setting a trap?" said Steele. He put a hand on the operator's shoulder, "Have the drone head north. Activate thermal and MRI scan modes too".

Minutes later his fears were confirmed. A few kilometres south of Westminster, another large Blakist force was marching steadily south.

"Stravag", said Clearwater quietly, with a shake of her head.

"Looks like a Trinary, at least", said Jerricho, her eyes still fixed on the display.

"And whoever these newcomers are, they will run straight into them", said Tamzarian grimly.

Steele straightened and turned to face the others, "Not if I have any say in the matter. I checked with our Master Technician and Binary Alpha is ready for action".

"That is all very well for you to say", growled Tamzarian, "I had to leave my mech on the battlefield, as did most of my warriors".

"And for that I am sorry, Novak, as I have already explained…"

"Beta Assault is ready for action", said Jerricho, cutting in and surprising the others, "though my heavy Star will require much longer before they are combat ready".

"That gives us a Trinary. Should be enough to stop those surats from joining forces with their comrades".

"Aff, it is time we put those cybernetic freaks out of our misery".

"Will you be able to intercept them in time?", asked Clearwater, putting one hand on her back and grimacing as she straightened up.

"If we move out now and stick to flat, open terrain. It will mean a longer march, but if we move at maximum speed, we should engage them several kilometres north of the current battle line".

"We will smash those inhuman abominations in the name of Star Colonel Nuyriev", said Jerricho, raising a fist in the air in salute.

"For the Star Colonel", echoed Steele, raising his fist alongside Alannah's.

Clearwater and Tamzarian silently raised their arms also, even though it clearly pained Risa to do so.


Albion Palace,
50km north east of Westminster,
Britannia

"Guard, guard!" yelled Marshall in a panicked voice, banging frantically on the heavy wooden door.

"What is it?" came the muffled, irritated reply from the other side.

"It's the Regent! He's…I think he's having a heart attack! Call a medic…quickly!"

"Everyone move away from the door, hands in the air".

"Okay, but in Blake's name hurry!"

"Silence, heretic!"

There was a pause, then a click as the door's locking mechanism was activated. It swung open, creaking gently on slightly misaligned hinges. The pair of Manei Domini soldiers walked slowly in, weapons raised. The first looked down at the Regent, who was red-faced, fighting for breath and clutching his chest, as he twitched spasmodically on the floor.

He leaned down, more out of curiosity than anything else and half turned his head to call his partner.

"Kader, call Scharma up here. Tell her to hurry – we have a medical…"

He never got to finish the sentence, as a number of things happened in very quick succession. First, Demi-Precentor Constantinou dropped her hands and ran at him. The man's attention – and weapon - diverted, Sandringham suddenly stopped his convulsions and executed a swift, hard scissor kick, which took the guard's legs out from under him. He fell back onto the second guard, knocking him against the wall. By this time, Piotrowski had pounced on the first Blakist, concussing him with a swift kick to the head. Constantinou meanwhile, continued her charge, rugby tackling the second guard as he tried to regain his balance. Marshall followed up, helping her pin the struggling Manei Domini to the ground and kicking his weapon away.

Sandringham rolled over and jumped to his feet, grabbing the automatic rifle dropped by the first guard. By this time the second guard had already thrown the two women off and was bringing his own weapon up.

Instinctively, William triggered a burst at the Blakist's head, at least one round finding its mark. The man dropped like a puppet with its strings cut. Precentor Marshall prised the rifle out of the dead man's grip as soon as he hit the floor. He turned back to see Piotrowski in trouble, the first guard attempting to throttle him with his cybernetic hand. He raised his rifle again but Katelyn beat him to the punch. Two aimed shots to the back of the legs were enough to make him release Andrei. The guard sank slowly to the floor, uttering a vaguely inhuman cry of agony. Piotrowski followed, struggling to get his breath back. William carefully aimed his rifle at the guard's head. The man was now lying still on his back, breathing rapidly and staring straight up at him.

"I don't have to do this", he said trying hard to control his own breathing.

It was taking every ounce of control he could muster to stop his hands shaking.

"Heretic!" The man gasped, "You will burn with the rest of the infidels in Blake's cleansing fire!"

There were two loud cracks, as Sandringham pulled the trigger twice. He stared sadly at the lifeless body, wondering what could cause a human being to turn into such a monstrosity.

"Come on, sir!" called Marshall, waving urgently from the doorway. "We're bound to have attracted some attention with that little stunt. We'd better hurry!"