Prologue Part Two: Something Wicked This Way Comes
The bright blue lights would have been painful to look at, were they not filtered by the holoscreen in front of Lear's face. As it was, they were just one more color in a dazzling array of overlapping readouts, information streams, and sensor feedbacks. A myriad of audio calls echoed inside of his helmet. His four eyes zipped over the data, processing, filtering, and screening it directly into the circuits and nerves of his brain. Weapon discharges detected ahead, forward scouting squad previously engaged with Neratin Tribunal and Shartan Dominion forces taken out, artifact unsecured, naval battle up above still contested and anyone's game. A sudden series of rumbling quakes shook the entire facility. He frowned behind his helmet. Likely one of the countless armies fighting topside had just lost its theater shielding and had the rotten luck to have a hostile ship in orbit above it. Those felt like Mobian Star Empire point defense guns. At least, he hoped those were MSE point defense guns…
He almost gave into the instinctive temptation to shake his head. Time to move. He opened up a channel to Tyrie and Mota, directing what was left of their squads to back him up as he moved up and around the corner of the Alkathar ruins and found himself wishing they hadn't lost the Phalanxes in the earlier firefights (or the rest of D-Company, for that matter). The massive combat droids would have been useful in this place and the hellish firepower of their MPAC-4s welcome. More specialists like himself or Rotaran shock-infantry would have also been welcomed, but no sense wishing for what he didn't have. He rounded the corner and confirmed what his sensors and remote feeds had told him. Time seemed to slow almost to a stop as his combat subroutines and mental powers kicked into overdrive. The massive doors in front of him had been jammed open, and a vicious small-scale battle was being waged within. Missiles, KKVs, lasers, and other, more exotic weapons fire streaked back and forth in a room the size of a sports arena.
"Alpha and Beta squads, move in, engage, terminate hostiles with extreme prejudice," he vocalized, using his armor's targeting systems to highlight the priority targets and relay them to the others: a massive Quaten Guardian and a trio of Shartan "Reapers". He adjusted the systems in his armor, diverting power away from his cloaking system and reinforcing his shields as he moved in, his pulse rifle shouldered. It was always just a little unsettling operating like this, watching his own body moving like it was moving through thick mud, and others as though they were in some sort of stop-frame animation.
He sighted up the nearest Reaper and pulled the trigger. The acceleration rails inside of his rifle engaged and spat out a hypersonic KKV. A trail of blue ionized air billowed out around the barrel of his weapon, a deafening double-shockwave filling the room as he announced his presence. Traveling at over five thousand meters per second, the slug struck its target and hit the Shartan soldier center-mass. The bipedal insectiod creature let out a screech as it staggered to the side, its shields blocking most of the strike. The Reaper's shoulder-appendages oriented towards the new threat in the time it took a normal person to blink and the pulse laser cannons mounted on them whined to life as the Imperial soldier continued to fire at it.
Lear engaged his teleportation system, appearing a hundred meters away behind some deployed tactical shielding. The remains of one of the earlier Imperial squads lay around him in a pool of gore and shattered power armor. The Reaper hissed and dove to the side instinctively as it ate heavy laser fire from the Tribunal forces at the far end of the room. The highly ornate, red armor that the Tribunal forces wore made them easy to spot against the dull black-and-gray metal of the ruins, and it was clear that they'd taken some losses as well. The Reaper turned all four of its weapons upon the Tribunal infantryman that had dared to shoot at it. Pulse lasers streaked across the room, liquefying and boiling away the warrior's power armor, while a high-pitched shrieking noise filled the air as its shuriken cannons were unleashed. The Tribunal warrior let out a gurgling scream, cut off a split second later as hundreds of mono-bladed flechettes ripped into him. Then he seemed to just… fall apart, his entire body reduced to bloody confetti. The relevant targeting data disappeared from the myriad of Lear's HUDs.
The roar of jetpacks echoed back and forth as Tyrie and Mota's squads jumped in, using the thrusters on the back of their power armor to quickly move behind the deployed cover. Mota provided additional covering fire as he unleashed the fury of the Squad Level Automatic Gun that he carried, sending a hail of KKVs streaming at both of the opposing sides. The tail member of Tyrie's squad was too slow and took a pair of krak missiles fired from the Guardian's shoulder weapon mount. His shields held for a millisecond before the blasts overwhelmed them and reduced the trooper to free-floating ash and steam. Lear activated the underslung grenade launcher on his pulse rifle as the unfortunate soldier's call sign disappeared from the battle-net. He sighted up the same Reaper he'd hit a couple of seconds ago. He squeezed the trigger and in slow motion watched the weapon spit out four rounds, their distinctive "bang-whoosh" filling the air as the rocket motors engaged and homed in on the target. The monstrosity never even had time to turn to face the new threat before the plasma RPGs impacted; the first two direct-blast warheads knocking out its already heavily damaged shields before the second pair blew it apart.
As it died, Lear got his first good look at the cause of this entire battle: the artifact. Perfectly spherical, not a blemish on its glowing surface, it radiated a baleful, off-purple light that seemed to pulse softly. It was on a pedestal about a meter and a half off the ground, surrounded by a series of teeth-like ridges. In the back of his mind, a subroutine distantly wondered what it might have been for; if any of the powers fighting for control of it knew what it was. Probably not, but orders were orders: secure it for the Empire, or if all else failed, prevent hostile powers from acquiring it. He ducked out from behind the energy shield deployed in front of him, sighting up the second Reaper as Mota's squad unleashed their weapons on it, a hail of KKVs, grenades and thermal projector fire filling the air. The Reaper's shields flared to life and it jumped, flipping about in the air and magnetically securing itself to the wall of the room. The Imperial squad tracked it easily, their assault never ceasing, even as its pulse lasers snuffed out the lives of two of the squad, and vaporized the arm of a third. The soldier collapsed, letting out a scream before a myriad of nanites and medical drugs flooded her system, dulling the pain. They never had time to get any further, as a trio of follow up shots finished her off.
Lear reached out with his mind, a sheen of sweat forming on his organic parts as he focused, and with a burst of will, ripped the Reaper off its perch. It let out a squawk and he could sense its surprise before a hail of mass-reactive grenades blew it up.
Only one left, but the damage had already been done. The Tribunal unit saw the distraction of some of the Imperial forces and decided to capitalize on it. Lear's onboard computers screamed warnings as he turned to see them orienting several missile-launchers towards them, while the Guardian opened fire with its wrist mounted plasma cannons. He shouted warnings, and engaged his teleportation systems, the gravity plates on his boots anchoring him to the ceiling of the room as and giving him a perfect view of the scene. Dozens of plasma bursts seemed to crawl through the air before ripping apart the shielding protecting Mota's squadron. Lear oriented his pulse rifle on the Tribunal heavy weapons team, flipping the firing selector to full auto and maximum power. The kinetic-kill vehicles of the railgun tore two of the operators apart before they even had time to realize the new threat vector, but the last one got his missile off. The Imperial squad tried to move, fly, and run out of the way, but there was no time. The heavy anti-tank warhead went off. Those that weren't incinerated by the blue-hot plasma ball were pulverized by the massive concussion wave of the blast. The Tribunal warrior let out a whoop of triumph, silenced mid-way through when a KKV tore down into his head and shredded his body. The Guardian looked up at Lear then, turning her weapons upon him and letting out a deafening roar of hatred. She barked orders to her surviving forces and unleashed everything she had at the MSE specialist.
Lear rushed along the roof of the ruins, watching as the third Reaper suddenly reappeared among Tyrie's squad. Two soldiers died instantly as the multi-armed horror's close-combat energy blades sliced into them, a dozen impacts in less than a second. Their shields broke, and it decapitated them even as dozens of KKVs, grenades, and a couple blasts from an LRAI laser rifle battered its own shields. A few rounds ripped into it as its shielding collapsed, blowing chunks out of its armor and body that were large enough for Lear to have comfortably stuck his helmeted head in, and the momentum from the pulse rifles actually picked it up and hurled it through the air. Still it fought on, its wrist-mounted pulse lasers tearing into two more soldiers and cutting them down. Tyrie hosed it with weapons fire, driving it back further as it slammed its claws into the ground and tried to maintain its footing. It proved to be a useless gesture and the fury of the MSE squad's combined assault ripped the creature in half. It screeched once more and then activated a self-destruct mechanism. Lear didn't have to hear the screams or see the "Alpha Squad Destroyed" message flash across the bottom of his field of vision to know it was just him and the half dozen members of the Tribunal warrior-squad left to fight it out.
He teleported again, reappearing at the entrance of the large chamber, firing a double tap that took out one of the rank-and-file before they could reacquire him as a target. Take out the small fries first; reduce the number of weapons pointed at him. He could see another missile streak towards him, and he sent a mental command to his armor, suddenly increasing the power of his gravity plates in his boots, and then explosively reversing the polarity. This effectively catapulted him out of the way of the missile as it screamed past him. In mid-jump, he targeted the offending warrior, and sent a half-dozen slugs into the man. The barrage tore the smaller male Quaten apart. The Guardian tracked him, plasma fire filling the air as he slammed down into the ground. The air around him auto-ignited from the intensity of the plasma fire, and his temperature gauges spiked upwards of six thousand degrees as the plasma washed over him, draining his shields by a quarter. Lear raced around the room as his shields crackled and tried to recharge, stabilizers in his armor letting him fire on the go. Finally, he let his mind reach out a little; it was easier to read his adversaries now, with so few of them. He could see their surface thoughts; feel their actions before they did them. His radio picked up the sound of frustration among the remaining warriors as he began to weave about, the Tribunal forces finding that he was no longer where they were aiming.
He took out two more this way, before the last one gave a snarl of irritation and picked up one of the discarded rocket launchers. He saw the Quaten load a grav missile, and his organic eyes widened as he scrambled to get clear. The Guardian barked a belaying command, but it was too late. The missile shrieked in as Lear's helmet blared a lock-on warning to him. In desperation, he tried to teleport to the far side of the room, only for his not-yet-recharged pack to cut out halfway through. In a final frantic bid to better his odds, he began to try to raise what feeble psychic barriers he could, hoping it might be just enough to reinforce his recharging shields. The missile changed course and took the shortest path to its target and suddenly found its flight stopped by the pedestal the Alkathar artifact was resting on. It impacted, detonated, and the room began to flux and waver as space-time was distorted. As his shields and barriers failed, Lear felt his biological components scream in protest as his armor's internal dampners tried to compensate. Some of the reinforced blood vessels in his organic eyes ruptured, forcing him to rely on electronic sight as the field finally stopped. Feedback came in, bombarding his brain with information such as the status of his injuries and condition of his equipment; shielding system still functional, all servomotors in good condition, teleportation systems and other armor functions online, sensors good to go. He could still fight, and quickly leveled his gun, shooting the warrior before he could reload for a second shot.
That was as far as he got before more warnings came in. Sensor feedback alerted him that the distortions seemed to be returning, and he could faintly hear a garbled message from the fleet flagship, Vindicator, that they too seemed to be caught in some sort of rapidly forming spatial anomaly. His mechanical eyes focused on the artifact; he noticed that it had developed a slight crack along the topside surface and that it was starting to pulse more rapidly. Light started shooting out from the crack in it as it rose up off the pedestal that it was on and hummed loudly.
"Oh frak…" he muttered.
There was a pulling sensation, quickly becoming overwhelming as he was dragged towards the object, and the unsettling feeling that his body's atoms were being ripped away, broken down. For the first time in many, many years, Lear screamed. The cry seemed to go on for an eternity in his current state of perception, which now did nothing but allow him quite a bit of time to contemplate just how screwed he was. The grav plating on his boots failed, and he tumbled towards the artifact. He flailed about with his left hand, his six fingers trying to find something to grab hold of as he slammed into the corpse of one of the regular MSE soldiers. He caught a fleeting glimpse of the Guardian, her vibro-claws scraping along the floor as she was also pulled into the flux, a lupine howl of denial coming from her. Then everything went dark.
Well, that's it for the prologue. I do hope that the few bits I've put up were passable, or at least not a complete disaster. Any feedback is welcome, especially constructive criticism, as that's the only way that I'm going to improve. In the meantime, thank you, all of you, for your time, and I do hope you have a good day.