A Guiding Light, Page 5

  His already virulent saliva mixed with the welling blood from the ragged wound, so passing on the now enhanced plague spores, which rapidly destroyed the soldier’s stricken defenses.

  Standing back, Arius gazed on, a cunning smile playing on his lips. A shuffling, shambling noise could be heard behind him and he turned to welcome his undead brothers.

  *****

  One leg after another slipped off the medical gurney and Shan creaked to his feet. Frings screamed now, all pretence at bravado having disappeared. A trooper sprinted forward, his rifle spitting rounds at the Tauran, who only laughed as ragged holes appeared and then slowly closed. He reached one gauntleted hand forward, grasping the terrified Trooper by the throat and crushing his windpipe effortlessly. Death personified, he strode forward, calmly murdering one after another, until only the Inspector remained.

  “I denounce thee in His name,” mumbled Frings, rapidly making the sign of his Order.

  Shan roared with laughter, casually backhanding the Inspector across the face. The force of the blow threw Frings across the room, crashing against a nearby table and collapsing in a heap upon the floor.

  “Poor little man,” whispered Shan, grasping the front of Frings’ tunic in one hand and lifting him to his feet, “I’m sure you are wondering what is going to happen to you …….?”

  Quite deliberately he drew the Inspector’s face close to his and kissed him full on the mouth, “Welcome brother……” he purred.

  *****

  Ever so subtly, the structure of the battleship began to change, metal corroding and becoming almost fluid. Boils and pustules grew on the ship’s external skin, covering laser batteries and launch bays, as the virulent plague slowly consumed all of what was once a proud Church vessel. The engines pulsed with power and ignoring the frantic hails of the rest of the fleet, the enormous craft got underway.

  *****

  Striding purposefully down the corridor leading to the bridge, Shan greeted his new brothers. Immortals lined the passage, their armour darkening and changing before his eyes. Colours ran slowly down their shoulder guards as their Church emblems twisted in silent pain. Underneath a new pattern began to emerge, burned into the very metal itself.

  With a swish the bridge doors opened and Shan looked on at the partially rotten body of the Admiral, half melted into his chair. A death’s head grin flitted across the undead officer’s face as he peeled himself from his seat and expansively waved his new master forward.

  “Now,” said Shan, “We can leave. Our Lord has given us a new task and directions so that we can follow this upstart Walters. Let us be on our way, but first …..”

  Virulent streams of sickness poured from the battleship’s main weaponry, impacting against the unsuspecting Church Fleet as Shan looked on with satisfaction. Very soon his undead army would be ready, and the new Tauran Champion could lead them into battle.

  Chapter Eight

  The Tower

  Diadem

  Unassigned Space

  The creature slept. It was old, so old that it had even forgotten its own name, but not its purpose. Here in the almost perpetual night of the city, it waited; its task to defend home and treasure. Any and all who had once lived here had been the food which kept it alive, but they were long gone now and all that remained for sustenance were its own offspring.

  It lived in a perpetual downward metabolic cycle; birth drawing hard on its remaining reserves, which then in its consumption became death. A clawed hand flashed outwards, catching the thing which slinked out of the dark. They never learned, their racial drive for domination was written deep within their genetic code. With the minimum expense of energy, it bit off the thing’s head, chewed once and swallowed.

  One enormous lazy eye looked upwards, the spinning shapes hung in low orbit, their rapid pulsations making them blink in the night sky. At its most rudimentary level the creature welcomed their activity; soon sustenance would be here.

  *****

  A small ship dropped out of Fold Space; its on-board instruments questing and finally locking on the now powerful signal. Carefully it advanced forward, like a beast sniffing for danger; cautious, its savagery held in check until it was needed.

  Then, a small spheroid split from the main ship, its speed incredible as it shot past the revolving objects and crashed through the planet’s outer atmosphere, where it began to glow, the still tenuous air protesting at its passage.

  Once through, there was a low explosion and it spilt into numerous separate parts which sprayed out fan-like, across the sky.

  *****

  Below, the creature watched languorously, as the spectacle unfolded. Strange feelings surged upwards, emotions long forgotten; anticipation, anger and ultimately hunger.

  *****

  Sleek cylindrical shapes surged downwards, quickly reaching terminal velocity, their fluted sides whistling as their self-generated wind roared past. Their tops were broad, thinning to a sharp point at their furthest extremity, which made them appear like inverted cones. Each of them slammed into the earth, clawing their way downwards into the protesting dirt and rock, until finally they came to rest. Steam rose from the holes they carved as their outer skins cooled rapidly, throwing off the memories of their violent passage through the air.

  Whirring quietly a circle of metal began to rise from the head of each construction, finally blowing free with an explosive snap. Segmented limbs unfolded, tentatively probing, before gripping fiercely and pulling the concealed contents of the drop pod free. One by one, accompanied by a fierce clicking they rose from their self imposed prison, righting themselves on four spindly legs.

  Spider-like, a spherical metallic body hung suspended from the limbs, swaying slightly. Two bright red lights blinked, before burning in a steady glow. Moving jerkily on knife life feet, they joined together and as one pack advanced on the silent city.

  *****

  The creature knew they were there, and it unfurled its great leathern wings, holding them outstretched and motionless for a heartbeat. With a great leap and a massive down stroke it rose into the air, its muscles complaining at the unexpected demand. Then with ponderous beats it moved to meet the oncoming threat.

  Behind it, there rose from various buildings a cloud of small flying creatures, their hunger overcoming the fear of their parent. Together they sped towards the advancing constructs, avarice gleaming in their eyes.

  The Galleon

  Unknown Location

  Fold Space

  “How long?” asked Arn, as the Galleon continued its seemingly endless journey through fold space.

  “Not much longer,” replied Walters turning to face him, “the signal becomes stronger.”

  Then Walters face twisted in anger, his eyes flashing, and a low growl began deep in his throat.

  “My Lord, what is it?” questioned Arn, worried at the change in Walters.

  “Others have found it!” he snarled, whirling to stare out of the view screen, but there was nothing to see, “Prepare the men,” he said more calmly now, “this is not going to be as easy as I thought!”

  The Tower

  Diadem

  Unassigned Space

  A scream of rage echoed through the sky, as the creature realised that there was no food here, the metallic nature of its enemies would give no sustenance. With an inclination of its great wings, it banked and turned, its great maw opening. Its mistake meant that it would have to expend much of its depleted resources now in the destruction of its unknown foes. Its jaws opening and closing it began its harvest, its offspring would provide.

  *****

  As one, numerous pairs of red eyes focussed on the beast, commands were passed and metallic carapaces split. Slender rods extended out from the constructs’ shells, locking into place and then following the creature’s flight. Bright pin points of energy coalesced at their tips and then with a shuddering roar, plasma fire surged upwards.

  Outer Reaches
/>   Diadem

  Unassigned Space

  “Contact! We have an unknown contact sat close to the planet’s atmosphere, my Lord,” said Arn, as he studied the read outs.

  “Only one?” mused Berbatov, “Well that shouldn’t give us too much of a problem!”

  “Strike that!” shouted Arn, spinning to face Walters, “We have multiple contacts, missiles I expect, and they’re headed straight for us!”

  *****

  Walters and his party’s arrival had not gone unnoticed, as ships dropped into real space, slowing and reorienting themselves, a beam scanned and rapidly analysed them. The correct response was calculated and the once crescent shaped ship remoulded itself. Its wings extended, exposing a central cylinder and small, bulbous pods dropped down to hang heavily underneath like some kind of over ripe fruit.

  Then they split apart, birthing numerous spheres whose propulsion units quickly kicked into life and hurled them towards the Galleon and its sister ships. About half way to their targets, long thin appendages flowed from their rear, solidifying in the frightful cold of space, and sticking out rigidly, quill-like, behind the now rapidly moving objects. Two red lights flicked on at the front of each of the spheres and began to blink, faster and faster the closer they got to Walters’ fleet.

  *****

  Marius was taking a well-earned rest, chatting with some of his men about the modifications which had been made to their fighters and the advanced technology of the Delta-winged craft they had found here in the Galleon. He had just raised a glass to his lips, ready to take his first sip, when the attack alarms shrilled.

  “Scramble! Scramble! We have incoming!” boomed the announcement and he raced towards his fighter, his forgotten glass bouncing once before shattering into tiny pieces on the hard decking.

  “What do we have?” he demanded on the control circuit and was surprised to hear Walters’ reply.

  “Captain, we’re not sure. We have multiple signals and whatever they are, they certainly aren’t friendly. They didn’t wait to get to know us, they launched immediately on our arrival in the system. You and your men are going to be vital, either as our eyes or as a means to destroy them.”

  “Yes, my Lord,” responded Marius, as he approached his craft, only to be waved away by one of the ground crew.

  “Oh and Captain?”, said Walters, laughter in his voice, “I hope you like your new ride.”

  *****

  Engines roared, the signal was given and the Galleon’s new Eyotalian Fighter Wing screamed out into space. The truth was that they were not all Eyotalians, some of the original pilots from the Galleon had been placed under Marius’ command and even now it was hard to accept them. When they had removed their armoured helmets, Marius had needed all of his control not to shoot them there and then.

  Well, thought Marius, at last they would see how well the unit could mesh together, no more discussions on teamwork, this was live combat.

  His biggest surprise had been the delta wing waiting for him, the paint still fresh on its newly added decals; the snarling K’ran’s head and the Eyotalian Eagle. It was technologically far beyond anything he had flown before; fast, powerful and so very responsive.

  Calls came in from his wingmen, verifying their status and position and in one tight formation they surged towards their unknown enemy.

  The Tower

  Diadem

  Unassigned Space

  Plasma shot skywards, yet no hit was scored; the beast’s size belied its agility. It had fed now, the gamble to consume its only known food source taken, and it was angry, so very angry.

  It had taken time to beat its way upwards, to gain the height it needed to increase its maneuverability, but now it was here. Folding its wings against its body it plummeted down, its speed increasing rapidly. When it almost looked as though it was about to crash into the ground below, its wings opened with an audible crack, the resultant stress on its body tremendous.

  The change of direction was sudden, it planed horizontally above its still firing enemies and opened its huge jaws. Out from its cavernous mouth came a jet of dark green liquid, expelled with such a force that its impact on the first of the metallic creatures, sent it tumbling. That however, was not the only effect.

  Wherever the fluid touched metal boiled away, its corrosive force irresistible. Drops spattering out from the impacted creature burned their way through another’s limbs, causing two of the spindly appendages to snap and the creature to crumple to the floor. The spider-like construct frantically tried to scrabble its way upright, yet only managed to turn in a jerky circular motion. Its misery did not last very long, as on its next pass the beast destroyed it.

  Under attack, the metallic creatures adapted, their close formation splitting apart, and once more a barrage of high energy soared upwards. One round burnt through the membrane of the beast’s left wing, destabilising its flight, the strain of its evasive tactics finally taking its toll. Bones splintered under the extreme stress, collapsing one gigantic limb and sending the beast crashing to earth.

  As the beast tumbled, it smashed its way through the city, demolishing buildings with the sheer force of its momentum. At last it lay still, unmoving and the creatures skittered their way towards it tentatively. One huge eye opened, teeth snapped and more of its enemies fell. Again they moved back and once more bombarded the beast from distance.

  This time it was no use, there were simply too many of them and it had no more strength. Its remaining wing flapped feebly, corrosive liquid dribbled from its mouth burning into the ground where it fell, and with a gigantic shudder, the beast died.

  The creatures stayed for a time, as though waiting to see if it was truly dead, then as one they turned towards the now unprotected tower.

  Chapter Nine

  Outer Reaches

  Diadem

  Unassigned Space

  Master Arshavin laughed coldly as he watched the fleet of ships scurry to face his creations. Millennia had passed since he had last crossed swords with the Church; he had hidden himself away, developing his children to ever new and exigent levels.

  His allegiance to the Tauran High Command had been swept away long ago, when he had followed the new Warmaster, ignoring the call of his brothers that he left behind. The time spent on the path of war had been helpful, but his arrogance knew no bounds and once again he had chosen solitude over the pitiful whining of his peers and subordinates. That had been a long time ago.

  Combining the height of Church Technology, with demon possession had worked for a while, but he had soon decided that what he needed was something different. His spawn needed to obey him totally, and for that he had developed something new.

  No doubt, both his Tauran brothers and the Church forces would declare him a heretic, but finally he had made his breakthrough. Those robots he had created, were self-thinking entities, to a point. Unswervingly loyal to Arshavin’s design, they had rudimentary brains, whose synapses were linked to his own central command. On the battlefield they could innovate, within the limit of their programmed capacity, although he still maintained the self-destruct option, if they ever advanced too far.

  No-one had ever faced their like and survived and the prize waiting below, would add to their abilities. Carefully watching his screens, he saw the moment when they deployed their tactical weapons and grinned savagely. This was going to be entertaining.

  *****

  Viker finished tightening the straps on his uniform, his gaze flicking across to Leftenant Krantu, who even now was receiving some last minute instructions from the Colonel.

  He saw Corporal Johns and his old squad arrive and nodded to them with easy familiarity. It would be good to have them by his side once more, his amalgamation into Krantu’s squad was a little more difficult than he had first expected.

  The call came and they formed up, ready to march onto the waiting pinnace. This was to be a quick and decisive strike, their target already defined by the C
olonel. They would be dropping with some of the Eyatolians into what was expected to be a hot zone. The main body was to be held in reserve right now, the Colonel apparently ready to wait and see how the battle developed.

  *****

  Marius fired his autocannons, the metal slugs tearing through space and impacting on the incoming objects. An ovoid of light flicked into existence and his rounds ricocheted harmlessly away.

  “Careful boys,” he transmitted, “they’re shielded!”

  His targeting reticule locked onto the next in line and he fired his plasma cannons. There was a brief resistance and then an incandescent explosion, as the creature disappeared.

  “Captain!” screamed a voice, “Our laser cannons have absolutely no effect, we…..”

  Looking at his tactical display, Marius saw the tags identifying his fighters begin to wink out and swore. With a snarl of rage, he slammed on the power and hoped he would get there in time.

  *****

  The quill-like protrusions arched forwards, bending almost double and now facing towards the incoming fighters. Their shapes became fainter as the spines turned fluid and were flung forward, squirming towards the oncoming craft. Their serpentine motion made them hard to track and impossible to predict, yet not many pilots were overly worried, then the first of them struck.

  It lashed around one of the fighter’s wings, shearing through the resistant metal as though it had never existed and continued on its way. The pilot instantly lost control of his craft, the fighter starting to spin and tumble, flying straight into more of the snake-like strings of energy. It was neatly sliced into pieces, with seemingly little sign of any diminution of the weapon’s strength.

  Laser cannons fired, their beams ineffectual as they only scored the robot’s shields, with little or no penetration. Pilots were dying and there appeared to be nothing that they could do about it.

  *****

  Arshavin crowed with delight as his robots’ weapons deployed, he was sublimely confident that the Churchmen had never faced anything like it and that nothing would be able to resist his latest inventions. He unknowingly had made a couple of mistakes; his opponents weren’t strictly speaking Churchmen and their technology was significantly higher than anything he had faced before.