LotS/The Story/Assault on the Zenith
<tabber> Intro=
The planning goes on long into the night. Countless streams of data pour into the council room from TALOS’ operatives around human space, and appear on the chamber’s many screens and holographic displays. You spend hours gazing at star charts littered with markers representing known and anticipated fleet movements, and discussing how each projection might influence your course of action. Then one particular piece of information arrives: General Rahn’s personal cruiser, the Zenith, is in occupied Sian space – traveling from system to system, overseeing operations across the entire sector.
Princess Illaria’s eyes gleam when she learns of this. General Rahn is believed to have orchestrated the attack on the Sian Empire, and has thus earned her eternal enmity. In the twitching of her fingers, in the look in her eyes, you read her desire for vengeance. She wishes to see Rahn suffer. But when she speaks, her voice betrays nothing of this. The Princess proposes her plan in calm, pragmatic terms, her ulterior motives hidden from all but you, who know her so very well. She argues that a major figure such as Rahn is sure to have information about the Centurians’ new technology and its origins, whilst a lesser one – some officer ambushed in a distant corner of space – might not. And so she proposes an attack on the Zenith.
There’s a murmuring around the table. Your gaze meets that of a woman wearing an admiral’s uniform, its ribbons marking her status as a fellow veteran of countless space battles. The same thought is surely in both your minds, and in those of the other military officials around the table. You consider giving voice to it, but cannot bring yourself to contradict the Princess in front of this gathering. Instead it’s the admiral who speaks out.
“Rahn would send out an alert the moment our ships appeared on their scans,” she says. “Centurian fleets from across Sian space would respond.”
She’s right. If you attacked the Zenith, your surprise strike designed to recover information would become a massive battle. Reinforcements would be too readily available to the Centurians there.
“What if we disrupted their communications?” the Princess asks.
“The old space pirate trick?” replies the admiral. “It’s effective enough against merchant ships. But a Centurian fleet has powerful communications equipment. It’s impossible.”
“Oh?” comes a soft voice.
All heads turn, and dozens of eyes fix their gazes on an elderly man in elaborate robes. You remember being introduced to him at the start of the meeting. Fabricator Orben… That was his name and title. He’s been silent until now, merely watching the proceedings rather than contributing to them. He was wearing a hood before, pulled down over his brow. Now it’s fallen back, revealing a head shaved to resemble the pattern of a circuit board. A pilgrim’s haircut. He’s a tech-worshipper, back from a recent trip to Occulus.
“Maybe we can’t do it,” he continues, his bright eyes revealing satisfaction at the attention he’s drawing upon himself, “but I believe it can be done. It just requires a little faith...”
The meeting finally adjourns for the night, with the decision that Fabricator Orben will contact the Cybertollahs of Technology, leading clerics of his technotheistic religion. Though they officially remain neutral in all political disputes, the Cybertollahs have no love of the Centurian Collective, who have banned the tech-worshipping faith in their territory. Orben believes they may be persuaded to allow TALOS the use of their strange and outlandish technologies. A princess in exile, an army of robots, and now a cabal of religious lunatics… War makes for interesting alliances.
As you walk down the corridor, a wailing noise stops you in your tracks. It’s coming from behind a door to your right. That’s where you left Telemachus…
The door opens to your touch, and you see him sitting on a couch, his head tilted up like that of a dog baying at the moon. His face is red, eyes screwed up in such anguish that he seems even younger, like a newborn baby. Tears stream down his cheeks. On the wall in front of him is a large screen, showing a news network report. The somber-faced newscaster’s voice is hidden beneath Telemachus’ bawling, but you hear enough. The Centurians have attacked Gallea. King Salastro is dead.
You stand there frozen, embarrassed to have intruded on the boy, knowing you should say something, do something. But what could you possibly do or say? In the midst of this indecision, someone pushes past you. It’s the Princess.
She glides across the room, and sits next to him. He resists for a second as she tries to pull him into an embrace. Then he seems to crumple up, his head falling onto her shoulder as she hugs him. His piercing wail gives way to deep sobs, each one causing his entire body to heave.
For long, awkward moments you stay standing just inside the doorway, your feet rooted to the floor. It pains you to see the boy’s usually happy face wracked with such grief. You scour your mind for words which will help him, sooth him. But none finds its way to your tongue. Instead you step back into the corridor, softly closing the door behind you, and walk away.
The following day, Fabricator Orben delivers the Cybertollahs’ response. They do indeed possess a device capable of shutting down a Centurian cruiser’s communications systems. But they won’t simply give it to you. In their eyes, each piece of technology they produce is a holy artifact – a manifestation of their faith. They will only consider letting you use it if Princess Illaria appears before them in person, and they deem her worthy.
You have your qualms about the Princess leaving the safety of TALOS space, and making the trip to Occulus. But she accepts their terms, and agrees to meet with the Cybertollahs.
“Get out of my way!”
The yell draws your attention as you supervise the loading of your ship. You look over, and see Telemachus. His face is red once more, but this time with anger instead of sorrow. He’s glaring up at Chief Assembler Wilex, who towers over him.
“I’m sorry,” Wilex says, “but I can’t let you leave the planet.”
“I’m going!” Telemachus yells.
The boy tries to move around him, but Wilex steps sideways and blocks his path. Telemachus’ small hands clench into fists, and it looks as if he’s about to attack the old man. You stride towards them.
Telemachus looks up as you approach, and the Chief Assembler turns to you in relief. “I’m trying to explain to the boy that he has to stay here,” says Wilex. “Please make him understand, this is for his own good. The instructions in his father’s letter specifically-”
“You’re not leaving me behind!” says Telemachus. “I’m going with you. And when you go after the Centurians, I’ll fight.”
The boy’s fists tremble, and you see the twitches at the corners of his mouth and eyes. He’s angry, but so very close to breaking down and crying again.
“Get on the ship,” you say.
Telemachus’ face lights up. It’s obvious that he expected you to side with Wilex.
“I must protest!” says the Chief Assembler. “His father-”
“His father is gone,” you reply. “He’s his own master now.”
The boy looks at you in silent gratitude. Then he runs towards the boarding ramp.
|-|
Occulus= Occulus
The flight to Occulus passes without incident, and you approach the moon as just one ship amongst countless vessels conveying tech-worshippers to the heart of their religion.
The Princess enters the flight cabin as the ship descends towards the moon. She’s no longer wearing one of the dresses she was provided with on Capek. Instead she’s clad in combat attire. It seems an unusual costume for a diplomatic mission, but you assume that she has some purpose in mind. Perhaps she wishes to demonstrate to the Cybertollahs that her empire is at war.
A signal comes through, granting you permission to land beside the Cybertollahs’ palace. Few people are permitted into the presence of the Cybertollahs. In spite of their disdain for interstellar politics, it appears that they recognize the magnitude of the events which are being set in motion, and the importance of your request for aid.
“Worshipping technology,” grunts Ragnar, as the ship lands. “Pretty stupid if you ask me. Tech is great, but only if someone like me’s there to use it. It’s like I always say: ‘Tech doesn’t kill people. I kill people.’”
Not for the first time, you wonder why exactly Princess Illaria invited a man like Ragnar on this undertaking. You’ve seen explosions that were more diplomatic than the Niflung warrior.
When the ship lands, Telemachus stomps out of the cargo hold inside his mech. You’re about to remonstrate with him, when the Princess expresses her approval. You shrug. Perhaps she thinks the Cybertollahs will appreciate the tech it incorporates.
Bowing acolytes wearing white robes, the material decorated with equations and circuit diagrams picked out in gold thread, meet you at the landing pad. They usher you into a huge building with twelve square towers rising from its silver mass. You’re led along corridors lined with holographic displays, showing technology from countless worlds and eras. Some of the things you glimpse amongst the shifting holograms are indecipherable, complex shapes which seem to hold no particular meaning.
The acolytes lead you into a dark, lofty room. Then they leave, the door closing behind them. After a moment, lights begin to glow around the chamber’s walls. A large section of the floor in front of you, dominating the middle of the room, also lights up.
“It’s like a trashy dance club,” Talia mutters in your ear.
“Welcome, Princess of the Sian Empire,” comes a voice from above.
On a shadowy balcony overlooking the room stand two tall figures in robes, one red, the other blue. The hoods on those garments conceal their faces, and combined with the distance it makes them seem like anonymous, amorphous blobs of color. The Princess gazes up at them and bows.
“We’re honored to be in the presence of the Supreme Cybertollahs,” she says. “We have heard much of-”
“You have come here for our technology,” one of them says. Their bodies are both motionless, making it impossible to tell which of them spoke.
“Yes,” replies the Princess. You sense her momentary irritation at having her flow of diplomatic eloquence interrupted. Such ill manners would be unthinkable at the Sian court. But she conceals the emotion with practiced ease.
“And what makes you think you’re worthy of our creations?” one of the Supreme Cybertollahs asks.
“The enemy we fight is a threat to all-”
“We did not ask about your foes,” one of the Supreme Cybertollahs says. “There are many just causes across the galaxy, but we do not furnish them with our gifts. Only the worthy can be permitted to use our technology.”
“And words will never persuade you of our worth, will they?” the Princess asks.
“You are correct,” one of the Supreme Cybertollahs replies. “Fine words do not make electrons flow.”
“Then let’s not waste any more time,” she says. “My companions and I ask for the Trial of the Twelve.”
Trial of the Twelve? That doesn’t sound good…
Up on the balcony, the robed figures are silent. Then they give a simultaneous nod.
“Very well,” one of them says. “The trial shall begin.”
Energy barriers flicker into being around the square of illuminated floor, their surfaces adorned with shifting green symbols.
Princess Illaria turns to you.
“I talked about the customs of the Cybertollahs with Orben,” she says. “I thought it might come to this.”
“What’s the Trial of the Twelve?” you ask.
“Trial by combat,” she replies.
“Ha!” laughs Ragnar. “Was wondering why you brought me along to this techno-dump. Sounds like my kind of trial.”
“And that’s why you told me to get in my mech,” says Telemachus.
“Shooting things until you get what you want sounds like the kind of diplomacy I can get behind,” says Talia, twirling her pistols.
One on One
The green symbols on the energy field turn red, like freshly spilled blood. At the far side of the glowing floor a black-robed figure appears. He moves through the barrier, which shimmers in his wake, and strides into the middle of what must be the combat area. Green symbols dance on the surface of his robe, their designs resembling those on the barriers around him.
“The sequence must be observed,” says one of the Supreme Cybertollahs. “The numbers govern all. Send in your first.”
Battle Royale
The Cybertollah collapses, and your companions raise a cheer from either side. He lies groaning on the ground, the sound accompanied by a strange whirring noise from under his robes. You realize that it’s being made by a damaged cybernetic system. The symbols on the Cybertollah’s robes flash once more, before flickering out of existence, leaving only black cloth in their wake.
Two acolytes in white robes appear from the dark recesses of the room, and run onto the glowing floor, the green barrier parting before them. The field closes in their wake.
The acolytes bow to you. Then one grabs the fallen Cybertollah under his armpits, the other takes hold of him by his feet, and they whisk him away. As they reach the barrier with their burden, the field opens once more. As they pass through, it closes behind them again.
Two more figures in similar attire to the defeated Cybertollah emerge from a doorway, and take up positions opposite you, just outside the barrier. The symbols turn red, and they slip inside. On your right, Princess Illaria does the same. The moment she passes through, they’re green once more – barring entry to the others.
“Two and two,” say both Cybertollahs, their voices creating a strange, almost electronic harmony. “The sequence must be observed.”
One of them advances on the Princess, the other towards you. Just before you join battle, you see her leaping through the air, her boot catching her opponent square in the face.
Tripple Threat
The Cybertollah in front of you falls onto his knees, revealing Princess Illaria behind him. She gives him one more kick for good measure, catching him in the side of the head. He hits the floor with a noise containing both the thump of meat and the clank of metal, and lies motionless. She nods with satisfaction.
“The education of a Sian princess,” she says with a smile. “It has its uses.”
Four acolytes scurry onto the glowing floor. They give a synchronized bow, grab up the fallen Cybertollahs, and carry them away.
Three more robed figures appear outside the barrier.
“I’m next! Me!” yells Telemachus, as the barrier turns red and the fresh Cybertollahs enter. “I… Hey!”
“Sorry, kid,” grunts Ragnar, as the barrier turns green behind him. “But look on the bright side – you have a whole lifetime ahead of you to smash things in.”
“Three and three,” say the Cybertollahs. “The sequence must-”
Their litany is interrupted as Ragnar rushes into them. You wince as you hear a crunch, the sound of bones breaking against his surgically enhanced body. Then you wade into the melee.
Techno Brawl
Six acolytes run through the barrier to clear the combat area. One bumps into Ragnar from behind, and in the blink of an eye the Niflung warrior spins round and levels him with a punch.
“Sorry,” he grunts, as he gazes down at the unconscious acolyte. “Force of habit.”
Three more acolytes run from the shadows. Two carry off their downed comrade, casting a wary glance at Ragnar as they do so. The other helps remove the remaining Cybertollah.
Given the way things have gone up till now, you’re not surprised when four robed figures assemble outside the barrier. It turns red, and they enter.
“Hey! That’s not fair!”
You look over, and see Talia slipping through the barrier. The field turns green just as Telemachus’ mech steps into it, and it reverberates – the unexpected force causing the mech to stagger backwards and fall onto its butt. Telemachus gives an angry yelp of protest.
“Smooth, Tel,” says Talia. “Real smooth.”
“Four and four,” chorus the Cybertollahs. “The sequence must be observed.”
Supreme Cybertollahs
“So…” says Talia, as eight acolytes begin to clear away the defeated Cybertollahs. “First there was one. Then two. Then three. Then four. That makes ten. Which means…”
Your gaze follows hers, up to the balcony. It’s empty.
“Yes,” says the Princess. “The Supreme Cybertollahs will be our final opponents.”
“Good,” says Ragnar. “The small ones didn’t put up much of a fight.”
A door slides open a short distance away from the glowing floor, and two large robed figures approach, one in blue, one in red. Now that they’re so close, in light rather than shadow, you see just how unnatural they are. The red one is absurdly thin, his movements almost snake-like. The blue one is stocky, but the strange shifting under his robe is far removed from the movement of normal human muscles. And their faces… The Cybertollahs worship technology, and it appears that they’ve sacrificed much of their humanity in its pursuit.
The barrier turns red, and they both step through it.
“All right!” says Telemachus, as his mech does the same. “Finally!”
“Two and all,” says one of the Supreme Cybertollahs. The voice seems as if it could have come from either of them. Even now that they’re right in front of you, you still can’t tell which of them is speaking. “The sequence must be observed.”
Then their hands begin to glow…
The Supreme Cybertollahs twitch on the ground, exposed cybernetic systems sparking and hissing. Telemachus stands above the blue-robed one, his laser-edged chainsaw whirring, and moves as if to drive it into the supine body.
“No!” cries the Princess. “We need them to help us, remember?”
“Oh, yeah!” says Telemachus. He presses a button inside his cockpit, and the chainsaw blade deactivates. “Sorry. Forgot.”
The red one manages to struggle up into a sitting position.
“Our technology was defeated. You are worthy,” he says. Then his torso slumps to the ground again.
Over a dozen acolytes approach the barrier, which disappears entirely now. They lift the Supreme Cybertollahs, their movements slow and reverent this time, and carry them off. One of the acolytes doesn’t share the burden. Instead he remains, and bows to your group.
“The object you desired will be delivered to a place of your choosing. May technology illuminate your path.”
When you return to Capek, along with a transport containing the Cybertollahs’ device, you’re greeted by the sight of a fleet of ships emblazoned with the TALOS emblem. The forces have been assembled, and now stand prepared for the attack.
There are mighty cruisers amongst the host, looming above the smaller craft like great leviathans. Squadrons of fighter ships hold orbit around them, like shoals of minnows keeping pace with whales. As you approach the planet you catch sight of transport ships, each one harboring squads of robots ready to storm the Zenith.
It’s going to be one hell of a battle…
|-|
Space Battle= Space Battle
You stand on a balcony, gazing out over Capek Major. Teams of tireless robots are laboring in the streets below while the city’s flesh and blood inhabitants slumber, working to repair the damage caused by the street battles with Fabricatrix Vespasia’s minions.
Then your gaze travels upwards, and you stare into the star-studded heavens. Out there, across the void, is the Sian Empire – the home stolen from you by the Centurians. And there too is General Rahn, little suspecting the vengeance which prepares to fall upon him.
“So you can’t sleep either?”
The Princess appears by your side. Her hair flutters in the breeze, and you realize that you’re seeing it completely unbound for the first time, free of the tight styles she always wears in public. The thought fills you with a strange feeling of intimacy.
“They tried to convince me to watch the battle from one of their cruisers,” she says. “They think it’s insane for a princess to get mixed up in a boarding operation.”
You remain silent. She laughs.
“And you agree?” she asks.
“I think it’s… unwise,” you concede.
“I told them it would help inspire other Sian people fighting across the galaxy, when they learn their princess has run such risks on their behalf.”
“Perhaps…” you say.
“But maybe I just want the pleasure of defeating Rahn, of looking into his eyes at the very moment he knows he’s beaten.”
When you head to your ship the next day, you find a man in a mechanized suit waiting for you. Its blue surface is adorned with spinning cogs and gears, making him look like the inside of an archaic clock. So drawn is your eye to this whirling crime against both fashion and pragmatism that it takes you a moment to recognize the man as Grand Fabricator Marek.
“I wanted to catch you before you joined the fleet,” he says to the Princess, after an exchange of pleasantries. “If you’re determined to take part in the boarding mission, I wanted to present you with something to help ensure your safety.”
He claps his hands, and a slender robot emerges from behind a stack of crates. Its body is a magnificent piece of craftsmanship, its golden adornments shaped with a jeweler’s care into a distinctly Sian style. Threads of jade-colored energy run through channels across the metal, making it seem almost eldritch. A beautiful yet intimidating sword with a serrated blade is attached to one of its arms, the same green energy running along its length. The fingers on its other hand each end in a sharp claw.
Lu Bu!” Princess Illaria exclaims.
The robot bows as gracefully as an aristocrat.
“I’m honored that Your Highness remembers me,” the robot says. Its voice is that of an eloquent, cultured man, one which wouldn’t be out of place at court. And the accent is most definitely of Sian origin.
“We built Lu Bu as a gift for the Sian Emperor,” the Grand Fabricator says, seeing your confusion. “The Princess helped us design him in the imperial style.”
“I thought the gesture would help improve things between TALOS and the empire,” she says. “But I couldn’t convince my father to accept him.”
“I am honored to have a chance to serve the imperial family after all,” says the robot.
The Princess walks with Grand Fabricator Marek to the shuttle that will take him to his cruiser, exchanging a final farewell. The rest of you move towards the entrance to your ship. But when you reach it, Lu Bu pauses.
“Excuse me, sir,” he says, addressing you.
“Yes?”
“This small child…” Lu Bu says, gesturing towards Telemachus. “…appears to be attempting to board the vessel.”
“Of course I’m getting on the ship,” says Telemachus. “I’m going to fight!”
“Sir, UHW Resolution 2985124, Sub-Section C, specifically prohibits the use of children, the mentally deficient, and monkeys in combat.”
“Well, that gives us three good reasons not to take him,” says Talia. Then she dodges, as Telemachus throws a kick at her shins.
“Not a bad law, far as laws go,” says Ragnar. “A damn monkey stole a job from me once. I killed him and ate him, but that still didn’t get me the money.”
“This entire mission is against UHW law,” you say. “We’re attacking a military cruiser without a formal declaration of war.”
“Understood,” says Lu Bu. “I shall calibrate my advice accordingly. Setting legal parameters to ‘scofflaw’.”
You’re not quite sure how to respond to that, so you just board the ship, the others following. A few minutes later the Princess joins you, and you fly to take your place in the armada.
The Sian Empire Strikes Back
The fleet navigators’ calculations are perfect. You emerge from hyperspace just in time to catch your prey between jumps. The Zenith lies ahead of you like a great insect, surrounded by its escort ships.
“The device is working,” says a voice over the communication channel. “Their ships aren’t making any transmissions.”
“Just them and us,” says Talia.
The TALOS ships waste no time. They hurtle into the fray, laser weapons flashing across the void. The Zenith’s escort vessels move to intercept them, and fighters begin to pour from its hangars.
Your thumb reaches for the button at the top of your control stick, as you prepare to pick off the approaching Centurian ships.
Space Ace
“What are you doing?” growls Ragnar, gazing in something like horror at what he sees through the window. It seems that being a passenger in a space battle, unable to attack or defend himself, disturbs the usually boisterous and cocksure Niflung.
“I’m flying the ship,” you reply. “And it’d be a lot easier without you leaning over my shoulder.”
“You’re getting too far from the others!” he says. “There are five ships coming right for us!”
“That is a lot…” mumbles Telemachus.
“If we engage them,” says Lu Bu, “I estimate our chances of survival as being no greater than 4.391%.”
“That’s because you don’t know what the captain is capable of,” says Princess Illaria. Her hand clasps your shoulder, and it’s as steady as a surgeon’s.
No Escape
At your side, Ragnar stares dumfounded as explosion after explosion fills the view. He gawps at the window, his mouth opening and closing like a fish’s.
“Whoa…” gasps Telemachus.
“Calculations adjusted,” says Lu Bu. And somehow even the robot appears shocked. “I apologize for the error.”
Behind them Talia laughs. Then she points at something on one of the display screens.
“We have a runner,” she says.
She’s right. One of the fighters is heading away from the battle. If it’s a long-range ship, capable of entering hyperspace, it’ll be able to summon reinforcements. You have to chase it down…
Clipping its Wings
“Nothing like hearing a ship explode,” says Talia, as the fleeing ship dies under your guns.
“Hearing?” says Telemachus. “There’s no sound in space. In space, no one can hear you scream. I think I read that in a schoolbook or something.”
“Aural implant,” you reply, as you turn the ship and head back towards the battle. “It interfaces with the brain, and provides sounds for the things you see out there.”
“Yeah,” says Talia. “They say pilots who spent a lot of time in space combat used to find the silence psychologically disturbing. But I think they just decided that explosions sound cool. Where’s the fun in blowing stuff up if you’re not going to hear it?”
As you scan the battle through both the window and the display readings, you see that the Centurian fighters are getting the worst of things. Many of them are already littering space as debris, and every second more explode. TALOS’ robot pilots possess deadly accuracy. But something on the scanner catches your eye…
“The Zenith,” says a voice over the communicator. It’s Grand Fabricator Marek. “They’re throwing their hyperspace engines into overdrive. They’re trying to make a jump!”
“That’s suicide,” says Talia. “They’ll tear themselves apart.”
“We need Rahn alive,” the Princess says.
“All unengaged ships, converge on the Zenith,” says the Grand Fabricator. “Cripple their engines.”
You swoop towards the cruiser, weapons blazing.
Zenith's Defenses
They’re not going anywhere,” you say.
On one of the monitors is a three-dimensional image of the Zenith. A glowing section of the model represents its hyperspace engines. As you watch, the glow fades away. They’re inert, useless.
You soar above the cruiser, weaving through the webs of laser fire which race around you.
“There’s the hangar,” says Telemachus, jabbing a finger towards the window.
Enemy fighters continue to pour from a glowing slot on a raised part of the cruiser’s hull. The energy field which seals it ripples as each one emerges. A one-way polarity barrier, as anticipated. All the ships in your fleet have been equipped with a TALOS beam weapon, capable of reversing it – allowing your ships into the Zenith’s hangar. But to do that, a beam will have to be turned on the hanger entrance for several seconds. And below you the cruiser’s defense turrets are firing their crimson beams. As you watch, two TALOS ships are pierced by the lancing red lasers, and burst into flames that are quickly swallowed by the void – leaving only a scattering of ruined metal to mark their passing.
“Need to take out those ships and turrets,” you say.
The sparking wreckage of destroyed turrets dots the cruiser’s surface, flaming wounds. From your ship, and from half a dozen other TALOS craft, luminescent beams zap through space, and strike against the energy field protecting the hangar’s entrance.
After a few seconds its color shifts, and a cheer comes across the communication system, from dozens of throats.
“The way is open,” says the Grand Fabricator. “Good luck.”
|-|
Zenith (1)= Zenith (1)
A fat transport ship descends towards the hangar entrance. Inside will be a squad of TALOS Battle Bots, ready to deploy and fight to secure your foothold on the cruiser. It passes through the barrier, the field rippling in its wake.
“Tel, get in your mech,” you say.
“Okay!”
The boy runs out of sight, and you hear the sounds of him scrambling into the cockpit.
On the scanner you see the last of small red blips disappearing, eradicated by the converging green dots. No survivors amongst the Centurian fighters and escort ships. Good.
You move into position, and make your approach. The energy barrier looms up before you, wobbling like the surface of an ocean. It washes over you, and through the window you can see the hangar.
Below you robots are battling against Centurian troopers, and laser fire blasts back and forth across the vast room.
“Looks like they need our help down there,” says Ragnar, brandishing his axe.
Your ship touches down, and there’s a shudder as the landing gear meets the metal beneath. You rise from the pilot’s seat, and turn to find yourself face to face with Illaria.
She smiles, and passes you your weapon. For a second it’s as if you’re back in your cell, and she’s handing you a laser rifle through the bars. The universe freezes around you. Then she moves off, and the moment is broken. You follow, leaping out into the laser-riddled warzone.
Securing the Hanger
Your mind drinks in the chaos around you, processes it, evaluates it. On one side Ragnar’s machinegun rattles Centurian death knells as it sprays bullets across the hangar. Telemachus is nearby, his chainsaw working its way through a screaming Centurian’s body as blood splatters across the armor of his mech. He’s making them pay in full measure for his father’s death.
On the other side Talia and the Princess are firing, carefully targeted shots dropping target after target. There are so many Centurians trying to pour through the doorways in a desperate attempt to recover control of the hangar, it would be a miracle if any shot didn’t find a target amongst their host. Lu Bu stands beside Princess Illaria like a sentinel, impaling a Centurian with a swift thrust of his sword when he strays too near.
To this pandemonium you add your fire. There are many dead, but many more still to join them.
From All Sides
The hangar is yours. There are damaged and destroyed robots strewn across the ground, but far more Centurian corpses. And more TALOS transports are coming through the rippling barrier, landing to deploy their troops.
Teams of battle bots are heading through the doorways, and spreading out into the ship. The Zenith is a customized cruiser built to Rahn’s own specifications, and its interior layout is unknown to you. The general will most likely be on the bridge. It’s just a matter of finding it…
You and your companions follow a group of robots down a corridor leading from the hangar. When it forks, they head one way and you the other.
You come into a circular room, the middle containing a ring of high terminals. There are multiple doors. A bad place to be caught…
“Look out!” yells Talia, underlining her words with a blast from each pistol.
Centurians are appearing at the doors, converging on the room, which must be a nexus point of some kind. Their red lasers fly from all directions.
You dart between the terminals in the middle of the room, pulling Princess Illaria after you. Ragnar and Talia do the same, making use of the cover. But Lu Bu and Telemachus each move to block one of the doorways, and put their blades to work.
You gesture to the others, assigning them angles of attack. Then you lean round a gap in the ring of terminals, and open fire.
On the Zenith did General Rahn...
“Nice job, kid,” says Ragnar, looking at the corpses piled in the doorway in front of Telemachus. There’s genuine admiration in his voice.
A similar pile lies before Lu Bu, and you know that without the two of them braving enemy fire and holding their doors, you would have been overrun.
“When we get out of here,” you say, “I’ll buy you a new mech myself.”
“Okay,” the boy says, beaming with pride. “But these things are really expensive…”
“Hey, look at this,” Talia says. She’s indicating one of the terminals which managed to survive the firefight.
The screen shows a map of this part of the ship. And on it is a room marked ‘Gen. Priv. Quart.’
“It’s worth a try,” says the Princess. “If he’s not on the bridge, he might be there.”
The six of you take one of the corridors, and descend down a stairwell leading deeper into the ship – unwilling to trust the elevators on a hostile vessel. A few Centurians are in the corridor at the bottom, heading off in a different direction, no doubt to help fight off some of the battle bots elsewhere. With a few well placed shots from behind, you ensure that they’ll never make it there.
Proceeding along the corridor, you come to a large, ornate door.
“No guards out here,” says the Princess. “Rahn can’t be inside.”
“One way to find out,” growls Ragnar. He slams his body against the door, and it flies open – causing him to stagger into the room.
...A Robot Pleasure Dome Decree
"For pleasure bots," says Talia, firing at the nearest android, "these things are pretty tough."
"They appear to double as bodyguard units," says Lu Bu, as he runs one of the women through with his sword. Sparks fly from the back of her red dress as his blade emerges.
At the far side of the room the Princess ducks beneath an android's kick, and knocks her other leg out from under her with a graceful sweep. But another android is leveling a laser pistol in Illaria's direction...
You dart across the room, spring onto the overturned couch, and leap at her.
Commander Rautha (Cybernetic Form)
The pleasure chamber is in ruins, its once alluring denizens now broken and twisted lumps of metal and synthetic flesh.
"Hey," says Ragnar, "maybe I should-"
"If you're about to make some stupid joke about keeping a piece for long nights in space," says Talia, "I'm going to shoot you in the face."
Ragnar falls silent, and tosses aside a fragment of android.
"Rahn must be on the bridge after all," says Princess Illaria. "We should keep moving."
The six of you return to the corridor, and pick your way through deserted passages. Wherever the major fighting is happening, it's not here. And your communicators aren't working, adding to the eerie sense of isolation. It seems that the Centurians have returned the favor, and are blocking your signals inside the Zenith.
After descending a stairway which you believe will take you nearer to the bridge, you find yourself in a wide, lofty passageway. The lights have failed in this part of the corridor, plunging it into gloom. But one side is dominated by a large window, and the stars provide a soft light that seems almost soothing.
Then the tranquility is broken. Ahead of you, in the glaring glow of a still-lit part of the passage, a door slides open, and the sounds of combat pour into the corridor. They're followed by a broken robot, which flies through a doorway and clatters on the ground, sparking pieces flying from its body. There's the roar of an explosion, and metal chunks rain out into the corridor. One is still recognizable as a robot's head.
A tall figure steps out into the passage, walking with an unnatural, mechanical gait. When you first glimpse him, you take him for another robot. Then he looks down the corridor, and you see a twisted, altered, but still familiar face...
"You!" he rasps, in a ruined voice that contains the echo of the arrogance it once held. "I knew I'd find you!"
He turns, and as he stands facing you in the light, you see what's left of the Centurian commander you thought you'd killed in the hangar aboard the Child of Heaven. Clanking, whirring robotic parts have replaced much of his flesh, and one of his eyes blazes red.
"What happened to him?" asks Telemachus.
"I did," you reply.
"Oh..."
The commander charges down the corridor, a pistol blazing in one hand, a glowing sword swinging in the other.
One of the commander's robotic arms flies from his body, still clutching the sword. It hits the floor, and scrapes along it for several feet, sparking as it goes. He raises the pistol in his other hand, but a swing from Lu Bu's sword causes it to fall along with his forearm.
"Damn you! Damn you!" he rasps, walking backwards with quick but uncoordinated, jerking steps, his eyes glaring at you like a serpent's.
"This is just pathetic," grunts Ragnar.
The Niflung runs at him, and the commander stumbles as he continues his absurd backpedalling. Before he can recover, Ragnar is on him, lifting him above his head by groin and throat. With a roar, he brings the commander down onto one of the spikes which line the open side of the stairwell. It seems a poor architectural choice, but it serves the purpose of mayhem rather well.
The commander screams as a spike pierces his breast, and the blood which erupts from the wound shows that it struck one of his few remaining natural organs. He spasms for a few seconds, then becomes still. His corpse slowly slides down the spike for a few inches, until its increasing thickness closer to the base stops him. Then he simply lies in the air, like a sculpture of a mythological scene of torment.
|-|
Zenith (2)= Zenith (2)
“Based on the shape of the ship,” says Lu Bu, as you pass the door the commander emerged from, “I believe the bridge should be in this direction.”
He gestures into the room.
“It’s as good a way as any,” says the Princess.
The six of you move through a series of small rooms, empty but for the occasional broken robot – their chasses marked with the commander’s pistol fire or sword strokes. At the end of this network of linked chambers is another wide corridor. One end is blocked by rubble and collapsed metal, where an explosion must have ripped through the ship’s structure.
“Looks like we won’t be going that way,” Talia says.
“No matter,” replies Lu Bu. “The bridge is more likely in the opposite direction.”
Who Designed This Place?
You walk down the corridor, the blocked section to your back, and come to a door at its far end. It slides open to reveal a large chamber with another door on the opposite side. A section of floor runs from one door to the other. And at either side, there appears to be a gap…
Talia walks over to the one of the edges, and gazes downwards.
“Huh. It’s a pit,” she says.
“A pit?” Telemachus asks.
“Yeah. Looks like it goes all the way down into one of the ship’s systems.”
“This ship design is in violation of UHW suggested safety standards,” says Lu Bu.
“I like pits,” Ragnar says. “They’re good for throwing people into. But still… Maybe a safety rail or something? This place is a deathtrap.”
“Just stay away from the edge,” says Princess Illaria.
The six of you walk down the bridge, marveling at the apparent architectural stupidity involved in this room’s construction. Then the door facing you opens, and you have other things to worry about.
“Centurians!” Telemachus yells.
A group of Centurian soldiers runs through the doorway, weapons blazing.
Over the Edge
There are screams all around you, as Centurians plunge to their doom – hurled or knocked from the bridge.
Ahead of you the Princess is fighting a trooper armed with a shock baton. He swings his weapon at her, and she ducks under the clumsy blow, slips to the side so his back is to the pit, and thrusts her boot at his chest. The Centurian topples, but as he falls he has the presence of mind to grab her leg…
She screams, as the two of them go over the edge together.
You dash towards the place where they vanished, ignoring the laser fire which skims past your cheek. You gaze down into the pit, your heart hammering in your chest as if it’s about to break free…
The Princess is there, clinging onto the bridge, her fingers straining to maintain their grip. There’s no sign of the Centurian. He’s fallen to whatever gristly doom now threatens to claim her.
You reach down, but as your hand nears hers she loses her grasp. Her eyes widen in horror as she falls.
You lunge after her into the chasm, reaching out towards her…
Hammer and Anvil
Your hand clasps hers, your fingers almost piercing her flesh with the intensity of your grip. And somehow she dangles there. You both dangle, rather than plunging to your deaths.
There’s a look of relief on Illaria’s face. She’s looking past you, at something above. And for the first time you notice the crushing tightness around your ankle. You hazard a glance upwards, reluctantly tearing your gaze from the Princess, and see Ragnar leaning over the edge of the bridge, his powerful hand around your boot.
Princess Illaria’s other hand comes up, and clutches at your arm. You double your grip on her, ignoring her wince of pain. Then Ragnar grunts, and yanks you into the air, dragging you onto the bridge with a heave of his enhanced muscles. Illaria comes up in your wake, and Talia drags her away from the edge.
“Heh.” Ragnar laughs, as he clenches and unclenches his hand. “Thought it was going to rip off.”
Then he picks up his discarded weapons, and charges to where Telemachus and Lu Bu are cutting down the last Centurians. Talia darts into the melee after him, and begins firing her pistols at pointblank range, where there’s no risk of hitting her allies. In a few seconds the Centurians lie dead.
You and the Princess rise to your feet, and your gazes meet. She opens her mouth, as if about to speak. Then there’s the sound of heavy gunfire from beyond the doorway, and she moves towards it.
“Come on,” she says. “We must be near the ship’s bridge…”
Beyond the door is a large atrium. On the other side Centurian soldiers are lined up, defending a doorway, firing their crimson lasers at the TALOS Battle Bots who are pouring in from a passage to the right.
Your weapons open up, raking the Centurian lines, forcing them to face an attack from two sides.
Storming the Bridge
The Centurians fight like demons, none of them giving ground. But the sheer weight of fire raining down on them proves too much. Soon there’s a mound of corpses in front of the door, to mark their futile last stand.
The battle bots surge towards the doorway, and turn their weapons on the sealed security door. After a few moments of concentrated fire, the metal gives way, and they rush into the bridge. You and your companions follow in their wake.
The bridge is huge, containing dozens of consoles and terminals. Men and women in the uniforms of Centurian Collective crew members crouch behind their stations, firing laser pistols. There are also soldiers behind some of the terminals, wearing armor and carrying heavier weapons – the bridge’s last real line of defense.
But your eye skims over these cannon fodder, and is instead drawn to a big, stocky figure standing atop a platform, outlined against the bright light from the doorway behind him. General Rahn.
Princess Illaria has seen him as well. She calls to you, and you begin to fight your way towards the Centurian general.
General Rahn
Rahn disappears through the doorway, fleeing the bridge where the last of his minions still fight their losing battle against the robots.
A blast of laser fire and a brutal charge take you to the stairs leading up to Rahn’s platform, leaving dead Centurians strewn behind you. You run up the stairs three at a time, the Princess keeping pace in her eagerness to get to the general.
Beyond the doorway stands Rahn, his back to an enormous window showing a vast tableau of space. Now that you’re closer, you notice that the weapon he’s holding is a design you’ve never seen before. It’s mounted on his arm, like a battle bot’s weapon.
You quickly glance around the room, searching for exits or other enemies. You see neither. Rahn is trapped. As your gaze sweeps the chamber, something catches the corner of your eye, some faint trace of movement. But when you look again, it’s gone. A trick of the light…
“Need more time!” yells Rahn.
What? Is he talking to you? But there’s no time to ponder that, as he opens fire.
Rahn screams as electricity surges and crackles along his weapon. It’s malfunctioning, perhaps damaged by one of your attacks. His right arm twitches, as if he’s trying to force it to move, but it seems locked in place by the armor’s failing systems.
You move in for the kill. Then something shimmers, in the corner of your eye…
A huge weight smashes against you, hurling you backwards. As you crash to the floor in a heap, you look up to see Talia darting aside from something. You try to focus on the air in front of her, and again detect a faint shimmer. She fires both her laser pistols, and the beams spark against what looks like empty air…
Then the air seems to peel away, and you recognize the crackling of a stealth system failing in response to the energy discharge from Talia’s weapons. A big reptilian shape emerges, as if pulling itself into existence through a hole in the universe.
Rahn is behind the hulking alien, a glowing object in his hand.
“Leave!” roars the alien, over his shoulder. His voice is bestial, demonic, like grinding bones.
“I can’t!” yells Rahn. “It’s not charged yet, and the coordinates got-”
The alien bellows in rage, like one of the monsters you fought in the jungles of Capek.
“Fool!”
He glares at you and your companions with savage eyes. Then he raises a huge gun mounted on the end of his left arm, and opens fire.
The wounded alien screeches in anger and pain, dozens of wounds scarring his hard, reptilian flesh.
“I’ve almost got it!” yells Rahn.
He’s still clutching the glowing object. His thumb is darting across its surface, and it looks as if he’s struggling to operate whatever it is with one hand, whilst his other lies useless, trapped inside his broken weapon.
Whatever that thing is, you know you can’t let him use it…
You make for Rahn. But the alien is faster, so quick for his size. He ploughs into you, his bulk smashing you to the ground. You feel your ribs crack, and your breath comes in painful gasps. Then he lays into your companions with big, sweeping blows, keeping them back from the general.
But Illaria manages to dive under his flailing arm. She runs past him, and leaps at Rahn – reaching for the object he grasps.
The alien turns to stop her, but your companions hurl themselves at him. Ragnar leaps through the air, and buries his Niflung axe in the creature’s side before being knocked away. Telemachus drives his laser-edged chainsaw into the reptilian hide, before a furious blow sends the mech crashing to the ground. Lu Bu’s sword slashes across the back of the alien’s knee, and he falls with another great screech. Before he can rise, Talia jumps onto his back, firing her weapons into either side of his neck at pointblank range. Ragnar and Telemachus plough back into the fray to support her.
But all this simply registers on your trained mind out of instinct. Your eyes are on the Princess, and Rahn. They’re struggling over the strange object, the general trying to fend her off with one hand.
You rise, blood spluttering from your mouth as you cough. Have to help her…
You stagger towards them, ignoring the alien that screams to your left, as his body begins to succumb to your companions’ attacks. The light in Rahn’s hand is bright now, shining like a sun.
Illaria grabs hold of the object, trying to wrestle it from him, and the light seems to flow around the two of them.
You quicken your pace, your broken body protesting with every step. You’re close… so close…
The light is a blaze, hiding Rahn and the Princess from sight. You can only see their outlines, amongst the burning whiteness.
You lunge at the light… And fall to the floor, pain wracking your body.
You roll onto your back, confused, disorientated. You look up, and the light is still there… You still have time… It’s… But then you blink, and you understand. You’re seeing the afterimage seared into your retinas. As you blink again it shifts, and you know there’s… nothing. The light is gone. Rahn is gone. She’s gone.
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