Chapter 28: The Invasion of Sanctuary
A shimmering portal of blue flashed open in the black starfield. Slowly but surely, the subspace portal gave way to a massive monolithic vessel. Golden sunlight from binary stars exposed it's immaculate white hull as it lumbered through the void.
Three other portals opened at the flanks of the Imperial capital ship. The ships that entered were smaller, thinner, with an angular pointed nose, and rotating cylindrical devices forming the majority of it's length. They exited subspace quicker than the capital ship, and moved quickly into escort position, their form dwarfed against it's massive frame.
The command bridge of the craft was a grand canopy of steel grays and whites. Every system was sectioned off, with each individual working in a grid formation. Crew members raced across the black-tiled floor, heading straight to where they needed to be, never running into one another, never acknowledging the other. Others were glued to their consoles, oblivious to the other, unless communication was required.
There was a clearing in the center. An elevated platform occupied the space. All pathways and contours led to the center, leaving no doubt in the minds of the crew, the established hierarchy.
Upon the platform stood the Three, along with the commander who had surrendered the ship's command to them. Markova's eyes surveyed the scene, her hands behind her back. She suppressed a small satisfied smile. Behind her, the other two Servants stood at attention, neither making any noticeable expression.
"I suggest each servant command one prong." Meya advised. His voice floated in like a specter, carrying not an ounce of inflection as usual. Markova expressed a small amount of surprised as she whirled around, managing to maintain her neutral expression, "If any one of those goes down, our efforts will become hindered."
At Meya's suggestion, Markova curled her lips, "On the contrary, that's what they're expecting."
The Sword of the Emperor raised an eyebrow. "Really?"
"Z knows of our presence already." she countered, "And certainly, the Guardians do as well. I suggest we take advantage of our investments in them."
Meya opened his mouth, presumably to protest. He then closed it. Once more, he became as flat and unreadable as a blank slate. "I follow your command. But, I suggest you reconsider."
"That's not an option." Markova said, turning forwards.
Her eyes fixated upon the sight outside the viewing glass. The planet they were fast approaching took up the entire field, painting a canvas of brown and tan. It was all that could be reflected in Markova's stark black pupils at the moment.
...
Moments later, the three prongs flanking the Subjugator shot forward, blasting towards Sanctuary at a frightening pace. It mere minutes, the orange friction of the atmosphere flared against their hulls. Yet, they cut through it like a knife, and soon, all three had penetrated the sky.
They had flown to different sections of the planet, each headed straight down into the surface. Their engines remained skyward as each head was buried in the ground, whether it be sand, dirt, or snow.
...
"Three high-speed craft have impacted the surface of Sanctuary." Silver observed. "One on the western hemisphere, the other on the eastern, and one on the southern."
The leaders of the newly formed alliance remained in the command room. They had been joined by another, who was not a leader of any faction himself. The tall dark form of Benedict stood next to Silver, his eyes completely occupied by his own device.
"I'm detecting massive amounts of subspace flux from them." he commented, not taking time to address the others in the room.
"What is this new devilry the Empire has thrust upon us?" O'brian said, both hands supporting himself upon his mahogany desk.
"The subspace prongs." Reitoko answered, without missing a beat. O'brian raised his eyebrows at the Arcosian's swift answer. "They assemble all adjacent jump points. Once the process is complete, craft from anywhere within the Empire's can make it here in one subspace jump. Even the Emperor in the Sol System could visit us at his leisure."
"Then we're doomed." O'brian declared, looking down.
"Not yet. It is no simple task to stabilize the energies of subspace. From now, it will take around six hours to stabilize. That gives us plenty of time. We simply need to destroy one."
There was a shuffle behind him, causing Reitoko to turn 'round. Shere Khan had stood straight up. His ears were perked and his fists were clenched. "Is that so?" he asked, "Then let us gather our forces and race towards the closest one!"
"I'm sure the Empire is quite aware of this glaring weakness as well." Koth responded, his arms crossed, "We can expect their best to meet us. Instead, we should split up."
"Would that not weaken us?" questioned Mahdi.
"Depends, some cannot afford to work together."
The Arcosian's red eyes flashed to both Koth and Khan, who were taking care not to even acknowledge the other's presence.
Reitoko continued, a plan formulating within his mind. "I propose we split our forces into four."
"There are only three subspace prongs." Koth challenged, his knife-like glare now directed at the Arcosian.
"Indeed," Reitoko explained, "and the Empire will bet that we'll be rushing one. Once they get word, their best will be committed to stopping that. Instead, the first three groups will act as recons and distractions. They will assess the Empire's forces. The fourth group will then attack the prong with the least resistance. Once we have starved off an Empire-wide invasion, we can then focus on defeating the existing forces here."
"They have one capital ship," O'brian added in, "A mighty one at that. It could cause trouble for us."
Reitoko turned to O'brian, "The capital ship is but steel. I'm more worried about the people the Empire will use."
"If we're going to mobilize, we better hurry." the guardian leader suggested, "They've already set up their ki obstruction barriers. Their forces have now been obscured from my senses."
...
Time ran as the suns made their way across the sky. The great city, the pride of the otherwise desolate planet, had become near to that of a ghost town. Most of its newest inhabitants departed as soon as they had arrived. Various vessels were packed and sent away. From the guilded metropolis, three distinct groups had already exited its premises. Through the skies they dispersed, small figures of air dancing ki users darting around large yet sluggish spacecraft. One group was entirely composed of mechanical vessels, the combined exhaust from their engines creating a quivering mirage upon the sun-stained horizon.
Meanwhile, the well-paved streets were nearly empty, an unthinkable sight on any plain day for the city. Only the occasional cream-clad soldier would fly down the wide, paved pathways. Would there be such a soul not in uniform, a harsh shout would send the poor civilian to the nearest underground shelter.
Reitoko and O'brian surveyed the scene from a far different room. They, along with nearly 50 others occupied a nearly all-glass canopy. Only the back drop and thin steel frames threading through the glass were not transparent. Through such an elevated position, the entire city lay before all to see. The room was circular, and every part of its circumference was occupied with a command console. Men and women in cream-colored Guardian-wear were glued to them. Chatter was constant, and many hurried around the room, some accidentally running into one another.
While the room was kept tolerable with environmental temperature controls, there was a thin coat of perspiration upon everyone.
Reitoko's back was to O'brian. He held a black communicator in his hand, his lips nearly touching the receiver as he coordinated the planet's defense.
"Remember, make your communications short and explicit. The Imperials are bound to crack our encryption."
O'brian turned round. He wore a wire-thin headset, sliding through his thin white hair. A small microphone barely made it past his cheek. He adjusted his earphones, as he ordered, "All groups report in."
...
From the other side, communications began flowing in. Each force's leader reported to O'brian.
"Eastern Hemisphere reporting in."
The voice was as cold as the eyes of the man who owned both. The bridge of Koth's flagship was cloaked in shadow. The only light streamed in from a viewport to his front, as well as from the various lights on the machines and consoles which oversaw the various functions of his vessel. Ahead, he saw a mixed assembly of navy-blue-clad NTF soldiers and warriors cloaked in attire that matched the complexion of the sand.
His gray eyes shifted to the side, to perhaps the most out of place individual on the bridge. Madhi's cloak was wrought with as much sand and dust as her underlings, and was currently threatening the dark uniformity of the Neo-Terran craft. In the dim-ambient light, her features had been reduced to mere shadow, as the glow of her purple eyes
"I was assigned as the leader for this group," Koth emphasized, having torn away from his communicator. Cold grey eyes had now focused upon the desert creature staining his bridge, "it would be best to follow my orders, and quell your lawless sand-dwelling ways."
"My ways are my ways, but I will follow." Mahdi reassured, "But fear not, with me on your side, the desert shall be your ally."
"It better be." Koth threatened, turning his attention ahead of him, "Otherwise, after this, I'm destroying it."
...
"Southern hemisphere reporting in."
Percy clicked off the wire-mounted communicator with a brief flash of bravado. He sniffed, his nose wrinkling at the now sanitary smell of his cleaner cockpit. Occupying the co-pilot seat was the towering form of Oriko. Though her head was mere inches from scraping the ceiling, she moved smoothly and freely as she adjusted the various vitals of the Iceni.
The Iceni, of course, was not the only ship trekking through the bright blue sky. Trailing behind the freighter were hundreds of other similarly sized ships. Some were bulkier, some were smaller, yet all bore the same ruggedness, the rusty metal sheen, that the Iceni had.
Percy heard static from his communicator. The voice of his former boss began to cackle through.
"Say Perc, maybe after this is all over, we can take a job, just like the old days." None of the malice, nor the sarcasm that mercenaries held in equal respects were present within his words or tone.
The captain narrowed his eyes, shifting them towards Oriko, to the golden ring on her hand. He brought the communicator to his face once more. "The old days are behind me, boss," he declared, with a sneer that would even frighten a snake, "And they'll be behind you if you decide to break your word."
The genuine man that had briefly existed on the other side vanished. "Your word's only good as the coin you're promising us."
...
"Western group, reporting in." boomed the baritone voice of Phonium. The wind and ki whipping around him did much to scramble the signal.
Nothing but warriors occupied the air around him. Ovosh was at his side, looking straight ahead, but giving him the occasional glance. To his other flank, staring directly at the back of his head, was the bulky, hairy frame of Shere Khan. The Anthro's yellow eyes appeared to glow, even in the glare of the sunlight.
Following them were no less than forty White-Fang warriors. They resembled animals of various extinct Terran species, some wolves like Shere Khan himself, some bore pointed ears and night eyes, similar to cats. Even others bore features of domesticated animals, akin to pigs or cows. Their clothing was nomadic, tattered and torn.
As the wind whipped by them, Shere Khan mused, "It must be hard to be the last of your kind. I hope such a fate does not befall us. The Empire had done much wrong to both of our species."
Phonium looked back, only with his eyes. His head did not move at all. "What the Empire performed on my species, I now see was a mercy. The Namekians have suffered little in comparison to the species they have most oppressed."
"Which species is that?" Khan inquired, his eyes appearing to glow even brighter.
At this, did Phonium turn his head to face the wolf-man. A small smile was on his face. "The Terrans of course."
Shere Khan huffed aloud, his eyes almost rolling back into his sockets. He could hear hushed murmers among his followers behind him. "You realize we're supposed to be working together, right?"
"Yes," Phonium nodded, turning back to focus what was ahead, "and if we don't, your people will meet the same fate."
...
High noon had begun to fade. The two Capella stars began to descend. The light blue hue that dominated the empty skies had begun to darken.
Koth and Mahdi were both out of the flagship, which hung overhead, directly casting a shadow upon them. Various NTF and Sanin soldiers floated about, each clearly tensed up as their eyes incessantly scanned the horizon.
The only two souls that appeared to be at ease were each faction's respective leaders. Koth's eyes were currently occupying a pair of binoculars he steadily commanded. Mahdi, meanwhile, was kneeling on the ground, her hand on the sand. A tall pole-like device had been planted next to her. Would she stand, it would be nearly as tall as she was.
There was a compartment crowning the structure. Inside, a smooth metallic cylinder rhythmically moved up and down, sending small vibrations near the sand.
Koth continued scouting out the horizon. His enhanced sight caught a distant structure, faded from dust in the air. Yet, he could clearly tell the origin of the smooth, almost immaculate structure that stuck out like a sore thumb among the desert.
"Contact," he growled, keeping his sights on the subspace prong. "There are at least 1000 men. But they're all drones."
A haughty voice, originating from his vice-admiral bragged, "I can subdue at least 500."
Helena stood proudly, her arms crossed. She had made her way to the Admiral's side, with nothing but ice blue eyes to train upon their distant objective. Another officer had followed her closely, the taller form of Seravin. He wiped his hairless head as he protested, "Hey! At least save some for the rest of us!"
"Remember," Mahdi addressed both of them, talking down as a parent scolding rowdy children, "Our goal is not to destroy, but to observe and report."
"Doesn't mean we can't make their job easier." Helena pointed out. Nevertheless, the ki of various soldiers had begun to flare, for battle was upon them.
"They've noticed our presence," Koth noted. "So prepare yourselves."
The Imperial force that Koth noticed was still distant, yet visible. To the naked eye, it appeared a white cloud had puffed out from the prong, and was now streaming it's way towards the group. Yet, this oppressive cloud moved far quicker than any condensed water structure.
"On guard!" Helena shouted to her fellow soldiers, "For the glory of Neo Terra!"
A chorus of jubilant cheers was the response, as the NTF soldiers took to the skies, forming a smaller black swarm to stand opposite of the Imperial white. The Sanin, however, descended, and remained upon the sand.
The ground was rumbling. Granules shifted and stuttered . There was then a massive eruption of particles directly behind the group. Thick column's of sand had been ejected into the air, almost forming their own catastrophic sandstorm.
When the storm had settled, behind the clouds of sand, Mahdi's summons were revealed. They were long snake-like creatures, though they resembled worms. Though, to these creatures, the sanin that awaited them more easily resembled bugs in comparison. At the front of the monsters that slithered towards the group, each had a mouth that opened three ways, revealing rows upon rows and columns of sharp barbed teeth.
Mahdi leapt into the air, almost flying to the top of the foremost worm. Landing on top of the rough sandy surface, she turned 'round, facing a slightly amused Koth.
"The desert is now at your service, Admiral." she announced.
...
Against the evening sky, there hung a massive shadow. The upper parts of the atmosphere were now occupied with the monolithic frame of the Imperial starship. A small haze obscured the finer details of the ship, indicating its distance, yet, to the swarm of ships hovering near the surface of the planet, it still took up a significant portion of the view.
The captain eyed the capital ship with a hard grim glare. Straight ahead, just a bit closer, past rocky plateaus, and sandy hills, he could see the white tower of the subspace prong. Various parts had begun to rotate. Many of the sensors upon his HUD began to spike as they drew near.
"Just a bit closer guys." he said into the communicator.
Static answered him. Then, over their channel, he began to hear a bumbling voice respond, "This looks hairy, I don't like this at all."
Percy huffed out, looking rather annoyed. Jutting out his lower lip, he urged, "Steady guys, we just need to get a read on."
His words elicited an even more pathetic response. Another voice, which Percy could, if he tried hard enough, mistaken for a mouse, screamed out, "This ain't worth my skin! I can't enjoy my coin if I'm dead!"
A dark smile crossed the captain's face. This drew a strange look from Oriko in the co-pilots chair, before she resumed her duties.
"Break away and you die!" Percy warned, his voice attaining even more guttural growling than before. He pointed to the glass, in the direction of the Inquisitor.
" See that ship there?" he questioned, not minding the fact that the mercenaries could not see where he was pointing. "They've got ki specialists that will pick you off if you isolate yourself! We're trapped here the minute we came within three klicks of them!"
The voice of his former boss boomed through."You madman! You did this on purpose!"
Percy's mouth grew into a wide grin. He glanced to Oriko, who nodded back. He then checked the engine vitals, thanking the one who kept them running.
With much bravado, he answered back, "Yep! And if you want to survive the day, you're going to have to fight to the death!"
...
The subspace spire was now visible to the White Fang group. The mass of warriors came to a stop, each eyeing the white tower, hidden by craggy rocks and rolling dark hills of dirt. Despite their proximity to the device, the space around it remained unmolested by Imperial presence.
To the crowd of anthropomorphic warriors, Phonium and Ovosh, this did not allow their muscles to loosen, their hearts to slow, nor their breath to remain on edge. Every warrior had their fists up, and their joints were tensed, waiting to spring into action.
"Contact! Unfortunately, I cannot determine what kind of forces they have." Phonium shouted into his communicator.
"I heard from the NTF group that the capital ship is guarding the eastern prong." Ovosh mentioned, eliciting a nod from Phonium.
Shere Khan let out a low growl. Yet, his canines were clear in his rather eager smile. "Well, isn't that a let down," he said, "Only three are guarding this one."
"Three?" Ovosh said, exhaling. Her eyes began to scan the area once more.
At last, she found what she was looking for. Three there were, and three that she remembered. From the vast distance between them, she could only discern them as white dots against the landscape. They were floating directly in front of the subspace prong. They're ki was suppressed so far. Yet, Ovosh could remember the immense weight the power of the three carried the day she encountered them.
Her heart performed a small flutter, and she could feel her stomach twist. Banter echoed behind her, yet she did not turn. Her eyes remained fixed on the three.
"We should contact your leader and tell him to come here," Khan said, his voice still carrying plenty of confidence, "clearly the Empire wasn't expecting us to make it here."
Phonium shook his head. Unlike Khan, his voice sounded grave. "No, they wanted us to come here, they needed us to come here."
The Namekian turned to face them. But, they had vanished. He widened his eyes, and his breath became rapid.
In mere moments, they had materialized, this time just a few meters in front of them.
Ovosh's eyes narrowed as she reviewed them. It had only been for a brief few minutes that she had previously laid her eyes upon the three, yet their faces were etched into her memory much like how Victor or Percy would be. They wore the same expression she had worn for countless days in her old life. Inconspicuous civilian garb had been done away with, replaced with far more appropriate attire; immaculate white military jackets, pressed pants, black boots and white gloves.
Despite the sandy terrain, their attire remained sterile, spotless, a visual genocide of wrinkles, imperfections and rough edges. Even the wind that whipped through Markova's raven black hair did little to ruffle it. Her gaze upon Ovosh was just as unmovable.
"Just when I thought you evaded us civilian," Markova mused, "you determined today to deliver yourself to us." She had suspected that Meya would reprimanded her for detouring to such an irrelevant topic, even as she put forth the effort to pay no attention to her two compatriots on either of her flanks. Meya's lanky frame was to her right, while Bolshoy's titanic form lay to her left.
Ovosh felt a sensation akin to a vein pop in her head. "My name is Ovosh." she icily corrected.
Markova's tone matched Ovosh's, as she responded, "You assume after today, that I will remember such an insignificant detail."
The Right Hand's eyes shifted to the Namekian. Phonium was stone-faced, yet behind the wall of rock, there was magma ready to erupt and explode. His arms were crossed, yet his muscles were tensed up, as veins on his green and magenta arms were clearly defined. One could trace the blood flowing through them to his heart.
"It is also fortunate that you made it here Namekian," Markova added on. For the first time since, the Imperial made a facial expression, a smile. "We can finally cleanse your blight from the galaxy ."
Shere Khan's confident expression had vanished. It was hidden beneath a layer of contempt and disgust. "Humans," he growled, "the same, no matter which flag they serve."
"You appear to resent us for your exile, anthro." Meya said back. His low voice, however, could have been just as easily synthesized by a computer. "But it was you who resisted the Emperor's enlightenment. Those who cannot recognize the Empire's supremacy must be destroyed."
...
The white cloud of Imperial soldiers streamed towards the Mercenary fleet. The ragtag band of rugged freighters, fighters and transports had closed in their formation, leaving mere meters between them. The Iceni led from the front, it's proton cannon already extracted, protruding out from under the nose of the ship. Prongs flanking the main steel-gray barrel were already crackling with destructive energy.
Percy's olive knuckles were now pale, gripping his joystick. Oriko had already donned her helmet and mask, and appeared almost ready to stand up and exit the ship.
The captain snatched his communicator from the side. Flecks of spit were ejected from his mouth as he shouted into it. "Here they come! Vic, direct power to the shields!"
Victor's higher pitched voice screeched through electronic static, "Gotcha Perc!"
One of Percy's hands left their station, and rested it upon the massive shoulder of Oriko. She was in the middle of standing up, and turned. Her eyes could barely be seen through her archaic-styled helmet, yet the confusion on them was rather plain to see.
" I suggest we wait." Percy urged, "Never reveal the ace up your sleeve in the first round."
Oriko hesitated, before nodding. She then sat down and resumed checking various statuses upon the complex dashboard of the cockpit.
Percy, meanwhile, had begun tinkering with the communicator. He talked both to his copilot and to himself as he explained, " I'm gonna contact the boss, give him a brief summary of what I see here."
With a click, provided by his thumb pressing on the appropriate button, Percy brought the device to his mouth, his eyes warily lingering on the swarm of soldiers that were streaking towards them.
"This is east group reporting in. We have about 1000 bogies, as well as their capital ship, please confirm, over."
He got a response. Static gurgles were spat out by the communicator. An eyebrow raised on the former mercenary. Despite the cool air of the ship, his forehead was beginning to become moist from sweat.
"Oriko, check their communications," Percy ordered, pointing to her, "See if they're sending signals to each other."
The large woman was immediately on the task, her fingers moving so quickly, she created mirages of extra limbs on the control panel that was vigorously being used. After a few seconds, Oriko's eyes became grave as she turned back to Percy, as she nodded once more.
A fist from the Captain pounded his knee. His face begun to grow flushed with blood. "Damn!" he exclaimed, "How did they get our frequency so quickly?"
He felt a tremor. It shook every rivet and beam of the Iceni. He looked back through the cockpit viewer. The transparent material already displayed golden streaks of ki streaming past the ship.
Percy's fingers began tapping the communicator again. "I'm pinging everyone on the merc frequency," he explained. His voice had become higher pitched, and every syllable was spat out at a quicker frequency than before. "We should at least be able to coordinate our battle formation. Alright guys, hang on, this is going to get bumpy!"
...
Thousands of miles away, Percy's boss was also tinkering with his own communicator. The Arcosian's face, usually a blank slate for expression, was now scrunched up. The whites of his eyes were beginning to become discolored from the amount of veins streaking across them. O'brian, meanwhile, stood almost indifferently behind him, watching the Arcosian with a raised eyebrow.
"We've lost contact with all three of our battlegroups!" Reitoko exclaimed, to no one in particular.
Benedict, working on the nearest station to the center, had assumed Reitoko's statement was directted at him. The dark-toned man whirled around in his seat. Unlike his boss, he appeared calm, though there was no telling what went on beneath the neutral expression.
"Sir, it looks like they're only jamming the Guardian's military channel, all others are open." he explained.
Reitoko exhaled. His posture straightened, and he managed to collect himself. "Alright then, Benedict," he said, his voice showing some strain from earlier, "Ping the others on another frequency."
"The GTE will react to the change with great haste sir." he warned, "We'll only have about a minute of open communications, if that."
"Proceed." Reitoko ordered, folding his arms. "A minute is all I need."
Benedict turned back to his station. His fingers resumed their work, before he even began to look at what he was doing. His eyes were narrowed into an acute focus as he concentrated at the task on hand.
He exhaled cooly, as another frequency was found. His hand hovered over a green-colored square button, ready to signal to the other groups the alternate path of communication. The hand remained there, and began to tremble.
Benedict felt his blood go cold, and began to break out into a sweat. He felt no nervousness, nor fear. Yet, his body had frozen solid. There was a nasty feeling of flowing liquid in his chest, and he looked down to it to see what went wrong.
A thin piece of metal, the tip of a sword blade, was protruding it. His cream colored shirt was now stained with a patch of read, as the area surrounding the blade had begun to spread, like a malicious miracle of old.
His soon to be assassin was crouched over, directly behind him. Benedict would never know who had taken his life, would never get a chance to turn around and look into the eyes of his killer. He would only find out after forever.
Yet, Reitoko could perceive the perpetrator all too clearly. His communicator fell from his grasp. The hand that held it was now tightly balled into a fist. It was even a miracle that he could see, for bloodlust had nearly blinded him.
O'brian calmly stared back, his face, a mixture of sorrow and anger. A dark shadow of killing intent begun to wash over it, as he yanked his sword from the corpse of Benedict.
To be continued...