For Blood Or Ash - Chapter 1

Yhzmal pressed a palm against one of the injection bay bulkheads. The kameira’s skin had lost any ability to feel on its own years ago, but a complex weave of polymers and ceramic metals filled his mind’s eye with expanding designs – the bulkhead, the walls it supported, the chambers they enclosed. He longed for an impression of the battle without; however, the ship may as well have been resting in a hangar. Combat telemetry mixed with the calm recitation of statistics by station heads told him what he needed to know, true enough, but a warrior sharpened his edge on shattering armor, afterburners, and that frenetic clamor of nanite bees. Covered in sacred scars, Yhzmal Gaim did not think highly of “shields.”

“Damn Caldari,” smirked a young commando. “Forgot the espresso bar.”

Everyone chuckled.

“We need only ask,” Yhzmal observed. “Prepare for deployment.”

They were prepared already, of course, just a matter of dropping visors into place and clamping on gauntlets. Although their cybernetic bodies could handle harsh environments well, more than freezing vacuum waited “below.” Wolf spiders whirred to life: giant exoskeletons resembling the arachnids, plated in Amarr fashion. Light combat strikers loaded into the abdomens. Carapace plates closed over those, and heavier MTACs clamped onto the skin. The totem completed: huntress and voracious young. Yhzmal smiled grimly. Seven golden spiders crouched in a cavern of dark silver and pale light. The ashen goliath – an MTAC unto himself – clamped onto the lead bug and pounded his fist against its carapace, twice. In unison, each monster “tapped” a forward leg twice in answer.

The kameiras were ready.

“Target space is secure,” the Lady’s soft technological voice finally whispered. “Enter the structure, kill resistance until you reach control. There, incapacitate and prepare prisoners for retrieval.”

“As the Lady commands,” replied Yhzmal solemnly.

Gravity dropped away, then the floor. A reverse tractor nudged them into space; thrusters engaged. Above and around, the Drake’s wings folded protectively. Below, space dropped ten kilometers through a tangle of asteroids and construction. As they pulled away from the battle cruiser, the carnage beyond it seeped into view. Husks drifted hopelessly, fires through their decks fading to ghostly embers. The vivid giant that sheltered this dead space stared at them with one of its great storms, hungering. Yhzmal nodded a small prayer to the beast. These planets were his gods; the Lady indulged her centurio prior this.

Architectural renderings of the colony flickered through Yhzmal’s interfaces. The huge construction followed no cohesive paradigm, having expanded organically with population and function. He sent his force diving recklessly into it. Turrets engaged immediately with light kinetics and small pulses. The defenders were cognizant of risk they might damage their own colony. As spiders wove the gauntlet, plates expanded and contracted to shield the MTACs. Impacts streaked through steel; spot reppers clamored to respond.

Now, Yhzmal felt.

The centurio hurled his men into jeopardy to give the enemy a chance to explain what mattered most. The colony was too large to fight through in its entirety, while the design gave no clue of hierarchy. A large central asteroid drew attention, but certainly served primarily as a chapel. Though it could indicate commanders lurked near, more likely, it played on such suspicions – a death trap.

Yhzmal’s men harassed the turrets with rockets to stir the pot, but explosions also filled space with debris dangerous to fast-moving attackers. They sustained injuries. The centurio could not press this stratagem for too long. He sent alternating spiders close to “ground” for cover. As vehicles rotated back into the fray, some turrets responded faster than others. Faster response meant nearer control. These patterns accumulated over time, until schematics blurred to a convergence in Yhzmal’s layered vision. Target acquired.

The fanatics situated their command bunker well: one of many bland asteroids attached to a large structural artery, neutral with respect to the distribution of the colony. Now, of course, it could be said to stand out for not having stood out. Yhzmal sent his spiders scurrying into the crevices of larger asteroids throughout the colony, careful not to call attention to any specific region. Defensive fire could not reach them easily, and what did could be sustained by armor. Position secure, the centurio called snipers from the belly of his spider.

“Paint me dots here, here, and here.”

He beamed diagrams to the small force. They rappelled without gravity across the pocked rock. With well-regulated thermal armor covered in optic sheets, they were ghosts in the night. They were also instant kills should defenders pick them up, and consequently stuck to natural cover wherever possible. A booster misfire, an overly aggressive jump or striking rock too hard – any mistake would alert the colony to this new tactic. By half steps and floating crawls, at last they reached points from which to take aim. One by one, they pulled their triggers.

Missiles streaked down from the cruiser. “Go!” Exploding from their nooks, spiders converged on the bunker as missiles hit dots. Tributary connectors collapsed; there would be no escape. The spiders clamped to the main artery on either side of the asteroid, as near to rock as possible, spreading plates from raised legs to cover units beneath. MTACs disengaged. Some turned modified mining cutters on the structure, breaking down the metals. Down, down, scattered outbursts of decompression signaled they were through. More MTACs smashed in, some met resistance and liquidated it quickly; others found clear passages. Light units poured in after and took covering positions.

Thrusting forward, lead MTACs eviscerated the structure with cannons and beams, leaving only shattered webs anchored to the thickest struts. The bunker was isolated. Multiple corridors tunneled into the asteroid, some for heavy supplies, others for personnel - all sealed by blast doors. Though hopelessly trapped, Yhzmal knew these defenders would neither collapse in amateurish panic, nor concede defeat with professional resignation. They would die. Unfortunately, the Lady wanted them alive.

Speed mattered.