Evan Currie - Heirs of Empire

She snapped out with her stave as Corian started to come back toward her, connecting with enough force to deflect his approach and slam the Cadre traitor down onto the deck. She adjusted her footing, twisting as she surged to the attack again.

Corian rolled away from the strike, coming to one knee in time to meet the next. A flurry of blows descended on him, and he was forced to grip the blade of his sword to give him more speed and control as he parried them. His mind was racing as he tried to work out what the hell had just happened, but he couldn’t think clearly while she was raining blows down on him like a machine.

Corian parried one blow to the side, then dove away from the next, hitting the deck in a roll that brought him back to his feet a dozen yards away. He turned just in time to meet the next series of strikes as he backpedaled away from her, trying to regain the upper hand against the fury of the assault.

Mira ducked under his slash, lashing out with a sweep for his legs that Corian was forced to jump over, since the stave could easily break the bones of his good leg if it connected. He shifted his blade to an overhand strike and brought it down on her position as he descended from his jump, only to have the weapon batted aside by the stave as it came back around in a smooth continuous circle.

He snapped out a kick at her, but Mira bent to one side as his mechanical leg hammered past her. She let go of the stave with one hand and curled it back before driving out in a knife-hand strike that hammered his inner thigh above where the prosthetic attached to his leg. A sickening crack of bone signaled that she’d struck home.

Corian hissed in pain as he fell back, suddenly unable to put any weight on his mechanical leg.

“Funny thing about prosthetics, Corian,” Mira said as she rose to her full height, “it doesn’t matter how powerful they are. They can’t be stronger than what they’re connected to.”

Corian hopped back, his sword weaving a pattern intended to keep her at bay as she advanced on him. Mira simply struck out with her Armati and destroyed the pattern easily, leaving his hand stinging and barely able to hold on to his own weapon.

“It’s over,” she said as her weapon shifted, becoming shorter and wider. Just as the wickedly curved blade of Mira’s Armati Elan came up to strike, a series of shots rang out across the deck and sent her diving to the ground.

“Kill her!” Corian snarled as his guard arrived, the besieged commander hopping furiously toward the flyer that was warming up just a few dozen yards away.

Mira brought her Cadre armor back up. Now that she wasn’t engaged in an Armati battle, it would actually serve some use. She scrambled for cover as gamma bursts burned the air and the deck around her. She angrily flicked her wrist, and the weapon in her hand smoothly shifted form again. Mira then brought her free hand up to draw back the photon bolt that appeared on command.

The first bolt ricocheted off the deck and nailed an armsman in the leg as he was trying to get a clean shot at her. The bolt took his leg clean out from under him, sending him face-first into the deck as his fellows gaped at him momentarily.

That was enough of a distraction.

Mira rose from her cover, another bolt already drawn back, and loosed it in under a second. Three more followed in the next second, dropping the rest of the guards. Before the last had hit the ground, she was already turning, bolt drawn, toward Corian.

The hatch to the flyer slammed into place as she loosed her bolt, and she watched it slam into the flyer’s armor, leaving a deep gouge but not penetrating. Mira began walking toward the ship, drawing and loosing bolt after bolt as the reactor engine on Corian’s flyer whined and the thrust kicked up a wind around her.

The flyer lifted off the deck and turned slowly in place. She saw Corian glare at her for an instant through the armored cockpit before the main thrusters roared. Mira covered her face with her arm as the flyer charged out of the hangar. She chased him out, still firing as the reactor craft continued accelerating away.

“You lucky bastard,” Mira swore as she let her arm drop and watched.

The skies above her were filled with smoking cruisers, many barely aloft. She couldn’t tell which side any of them belonged to anymore, not that it mattered. They were all Imperials, both sides. There would be no enemy forces dead when the tally was counted, just brothers and cousins to send on to the burning skies.

The Scourwind banner fluttered above her as a large cruiser slowly sailed over the palace, and Mira just hoped it would all be worth the cost.

At what cost, empire?

The Naga had dug a deep furrow in some poor farmer’s field, but had mostly remained in one piece, much to the surprise of its occupants as they pried themselves out of the craft.

“I can’t believe you glide landed an armed Naga,” Kennick mumbled as he held his head.

Brennan was just barely holding the giggles at bay and couldn’t really relay just how surprised he was himself.

Of course, calling it a “landing” might have been a bit of a stretch. More accurately he’d managed to crash the vehicle without turning the whole thing into a cartwheeling death trap.

“We’re alive,” he said after a moment. “I guess it’s technically a landing, then.”

Kennick looked at him incredulously, and then both of them lost their composure and broke down, laughing hysterically, a hard edge to their laughs that would have made anyone overhearing the two question their sanity.

In the distance, the capital was ringed with dense black smoke and the burning wrecks of three dozen cruisers—and the bodies of men and women who had yet to be counted.

“Resistance is dying out, Baron Kennissey.”

Kennissey nodded. “Good. Bring the Pillar down on the Imperial field.”

“Yes, sir.”

The baron watched the aide leave for a moment before turning to William. “Are you certain? It’s not going to be entirely safe yet.”

William glanced at Lydia, who nodded firmly, then he sighed.

“Yes, my lord,” he said. “We need to end the fighting before more lives are lost. Only the Scourwind can do that now.”

The Pillar of Miogaro settled down on the field, planks already extending as she shifted into place.

The honor guard that led the way was more of an invasion force, but they were all flying the Scourwind banner as they huddled around Lydia at their center. William Everett was at their head, leading the charge into the palace.

“Lady Delsol,” he blurted as he recognized the first figure standing there to greet them, shocked both by her presence and by her appearance. It appeared that someone had worked her over quite severely, though he didn’t see any signs of gamma burns or lase blast injuries.

“My Lord Everett,” she returned, then bowed slightly to Lydia. “Your Highness.”

“Where’s Corian?”

Mira shook her head. “He escaped. The bastard had a bolt-hole and a plan.”

William swore but wasn’t really surprised. He glanced at Mira’s injuries again. “You tried to stop him?”

She nodded.

“It’s a miracle you’re still alive,” William said. “You shouldn’t have tried one on one.”

“I owe him.”

Lydia spoke up. “We need to finish this, William, Mira. Now. ”

“Of course,” William replied and nodded. “We need to take the control center.”

The group got moving again, carving a path through the palace as they cut straight to the command and control center of the empire. Few who crossed their path actually put up resistance, most likely because they didn’t expect to have to fight for the palace itself—and due to the Scourwind colors the group flew.