Evan Currie - Heirs of Empire

The baron’s ship could probably take them, but in a fight this intense there was no reason to leave it to chance, particularly since Kennick was well aware just who was on board her at the moment.

The mottled green-and-brown Fire Naga actually broke the sound barrier as it blew past the Pillar , causing most people on deck to flinch and follow it for a moment as its MACs buzzed and tore into the closest destroyer coming in on their port flank.

“Looks like your brother’s back,” William said, keeping his tone as light as he could as his eyes followed the fighter blowing past the destroyer, perforating it with a hundred high-powered magnetic rounds, causing a rapid loss of altitude. The Naga then banked hard to come around for another pass.

“So I see.” Lydia smiled wanly. “Brennan always did surprise people when he was in the air.”

“I remember all the complaints,” the Cadreman said wryly.

“He’s saved us some trouble,” Baron Kennissey said, watching as the fighter came back around and zeroed in on another destroyer. “We’re pressing on to the capital. We need to breach those walls.”

William nodded.

They were about to enter the most dangerous part of the entire campaign. The walls of the capital were frightfully defended. But they had to fall for the attack to be successful.

The cruisers of the loyalist flotilla pushed through the fighting, closing on the capital as the firing intensified both in the air and on the ground.

Both sides knew that this was where the battle would be decided, with the defense or fall of the capital walls.

Skilled handlers in the cruisers slowed their ships to a crawl as they loomed over the walls, giving their gunners clear shots below, but also opening themselves up to the ground air defenses. The ships absorbed the fire willingly as they hammered down on the defenses; ground forces charged forward, but they couldn’t do so indefinitely.

The Raven’s Sword lost control when a direct barrage of fire from the local air defense took out her internal command deck and destroyed the sail controls. She keeled slowly over at first, accelerating as her sails caught the wind the wrong way, and then careened into the Guardian Hammer , glancing off on her way down into the walls below.

The crash broke the back of the Sword , nearly snapping the cruiser in half as the walls held against the sheer force of the impact.

For the loyalists it was a blow to morale—both the loss of the ships and the sign of just how very strong the walls were, but those who’d planned the battle had known all along that they weren’t going to be able to actually breech the walls.

Most of the fighting was centered around the city gates, with loyalist troops throwing themselves into the breach as the defenders held ground with grim determination.

Centurion Minas held up his fist as he rallied his troops, which he’d probably lost nearly a third of since they’d started. He waved his gamma carbine in his other hand, a weapon he’d picked up from one of the enemy dead to replace his empty lase rifle, calling his troops in closer under cover of some wreckage that had fallen from the sky. He didn’t know what side it had belonged to originally, but for now it was his base of operations.

He laid it out for his men: “We need to take that gate, or this has all been for nothing. And I don’t know about any of you, but I’ve lost too many already to ever allow that.”

They all nodded grimly. They’d started as a full century of men and were now below seventy, and the fighting wasn’t close to being over.

“OK, everyone on my lead,” Minas ordered as he steadied himself. “We’re taking that gate!”

His men roared behind him as he charged out from cover, carbine blasting. Behind him his troops all followed as he led them from cover to cover, firing all the way as the heavy guns at the gate blew through their ranks. Another eight warriors fell to gain them thirty more yards of ground, and then the hammering blasts from the gate gunners drove them to cover again.

“We’re never going to make it!”

Minas shot a glare at the man who’d spoken but didn’t say anything. The truth was that the gates were not soft targets. If they had been, someone would have probably done this before.

“Here’s what we’re going to do,” he said. “There’re a few more centuries in this sector, so we’re going to team up and take those gunners out before we charge the gate …”

“Sir!”

“What?” Minas snarled, twisting around.

“Look at the gate!”

It felt as though the heavy mounted guns would shake the whole wall apart as they hammered out a staccato rhythm, the gunners lasing the entire field before them and any warrior who dared charge the gates. It was a slaughter—there just wasn’t any other word to describe it. In order to take the gates of the capital, attackers had to walk right into a kill zone that nothing could survive.

The gunners on the gates might almost have felt sorry for the stupid bastards, but they didn’t have time to think about it as they were mowing down one rank after another.

They were so focused on their grisly task that they didn’t notice the shadow on the wall shivering slightly as a dark armored figure stepped into sight behind them. The gleaming flash of light was their only warning as the figure moved, the first slash destroying the mounted gun with a single motion, a sidelong kick dislodging the gunner and sending him flying over the rail and to the ground below.

Across the parapet the officer of the guns went for his sidearm but was silenced by an overhand throw that sent the gleaming blade through his sternum and embedded it deep in the wall behind him. The second gunner saw the motion and twisted, trying to bring his heavy gun around in time, but a single blast from a lazily drawn blaster ended him as the Cadreman surveyed the scene before him.

He stood out in the open, his armor changing from the shadowy form he’d used for stealth to the gleaming iridescent look that was most associated with the Cadre.

Brave bastards, he thought as he walked over to the gate controls and kicked them open.

As the gate fell, the man, who was a barkeep in another part of his life, pulled his Armati from the now dead officer and held it aloft.

“For Scourwind and empire!”

“The gate’s down! Go! Go! Go!” Minas ordered before following his own advice and bolting toward the gate.

Around him men followed suit, and not just from his century. They closed on the gate, engaging in a fierce but brief firefight with the few utterly shocked and disorganized defenders on the ground level who were caught between fighting back and trying to get the gates closed again.

Minas looked around for the Cadreman after they’d secured the site, but the man was gone. He wasn’t surprised; Cadre were like ghosts. He didn’t know where this one had come from, but he was grateful he’d arrived.

“Gate twelve has been taken by the rebels.”

Corian snarled wordlessly, looking over the scene before him as everything he’d sacrificed for crumbled around him. He’d given the lives of his men, his leg, his eye , and his honor for what was now burning right before his eyes.

“Gate three just went down. We’re losing gate seven! What is going on? ”

Corian knew what was going on. He could see the armor easily enough and knew that his former comrades had chosen the precisely worst moment to emerge from hiding.