Augesh 13 2630 SFY,
City of Tranquietel, Pokos
Flock of Temporal Investigations Office
The FTI offices sat on a low high ridge that jutted out not far from the Temple District of the mountain metropolis. Its shiny black walls glossy in the evening light, causing the entire building to stand out from the older stone and marble buildings that littered the slopes around the offices. The offices had stood there on that site for over a century. The massive main tower was surrounded by a park like atmosphere that held two small temples, the first of the kind to be built of the like on Tranquietel. One, to the god Doctuream, the old god of time and space, and the first Predestiny temple built in honor of the ‘One’. These temples, marked the first time that time travel had effected the Pokosian people and after the events that ended the reign of High Tar Artos III, the following High Tar marked off the section of the city that had once been a series of smaller shrines that had previously been damaged by a storm a few years before. These shrines were moved and the offices were built, along with the temples. Over the time the offices and the grounds were modified. The kinds of artifacts that were brought and stored in the massive underground vaults were very sensitive nature. Artifacts that had some sort of temporal nature that if they were to fall into the wrong hands, could cause all kinds of trouble. The most secure place in the commonwealth.
Now that the entire commonwealth was tearing itself apart at the seams, FTI troopers were lining the low wall that surrounded the grounds. Each and every one of them were fanatics, loyal to the High Tar and to the protection of the commonwealths past, present, and future. The automated defenses of the facility were scanning the ground and sky for attackers. The whine of the trasporter gained strength and then disappeared, revealing in a slow flash of light, Flock Marshall Stonewall and his guards. He was greeted by the commander of the guard that was defending the FTI offices. He took a deep breath and looked around at the attentive guards around the perimeter. The crushed gravel walkway that lead away to one of the two temples crunched under his talons as he walked over towards the commander of the guard, his robotic leg hissing with each stern step.
“What is the situation here Commander?” He asked, just as sternly as he would if he was talking to a military officer.
“Flock Marshall, those freedom freaks drove right at us and we made them pay the butchers price. They were all civilians though, no military” The commander stated crisply.
That did not surprise Stonewall, from the reports he had gotten during his escape from FLOCKCOMM, a lot of the initial attacks had been made by civilians, but now that more information had come in, he knew that it reached further afield. The entire commonwealth was ripping itself apart and he had to try to hold it together with the strings that he had left in his hands.
“Set your defenses tightly and let me know if anything changes. I am going into the offices and preparing to retake the city” Stonewall said.
The commander saluted and returned to his troopers and began to shout orders to them. Stonewall and his guards set out towards the offices. As they walked he began to go over the messages that were streaming in from across the system. His immediate concerns was to secure the city and get the High Tar to safety. From the messages that he was receiving the entire city was in turmoil. The entire guard corps had turned, overrun the spaceport district and was marching upslope with all of their artillery and armor. One of the Guard Grenadier regiments was actually committing against the embassy district, bringing their attached artillery, as light as it was (a series of three inch guns and pulse phaser mounts) into the fight around the embassies. It was going to be a hard nut to crack, plus with the other units and parts of units that had turned he was dealing with at least a corps and a half of trained and hardened troops, on top of the thousands of civilians and from what some of his reports were saying, there were a lot of offworlders that were getting involved. Some reports from the embassy district said that there were Setulans that were joining the freedom party attackers. Perhaps his fears were true, the Exiles had brought their war here to Pokos or had they been the masterminds behind all of this.
His reports from orbit were even worse. The guard fleet had been caught off guard. What part of the fleet that was not out on patrol around the edges of the system, had been in orbit tanking up on their deturium tanks and restocking their warp plasma supplies. The Poksoain Pride herself, the flagship of the Pokosian space fleet was now a limping wreck. The rest of the fleet was torn. Some ships turned, others stayed loyal, others stayed neutral, or were too damaged to even participate in the massive firefight that was developing in orbit. It was chaos. All across Pokos and Plaktea the situation was similar. The army corps were torn apart and fighting, the ocean navies either sat in port or were out at sea in similar situations. Not long after FLOCKCOMM had been abandoned the rebels had turned the planetary defenses against the loyalists.
Once he had walked to the steps of the offices he turned and looked upslope at the Humbistean District. The royal palace was on fire, fighting was clearly raging all around the palace and the surrounding districts. Stonewall was not surprised, if he had been leading the attackers that is where the main strike would fall. He turned to one of his attendants as he began dictate orders. His only idea was to deny the enemy the sky. Something that in the past was very important, being that the Pokosian race was an avian race. Also something not done in centuries that would not only put thousands of civilians lives at risk but perhaps save the city.
“Activate the cities air defenses and order all airborne craft to land or risk taking fire. Lock the defenses with my personal code. This may be at least one way to be able to slow the attacks until we can consolidate” Stonewall stated.
The orders were carried out at once. He entered the building as all across the city sirens began to wail. Ancient sirens that had last been sounded over four hundred years ago during the Great Schisim. These sirens had struck fear in all Pokosian hearts during those dark times. There were many that still dreaded that sound. Even Stonewall dreaded it, but in the end, it was necessary. Along with those wails messages were being blared over every channel that could be heard, the same message that echoed in those dark days in the past. The attendant didn’t even bother to change the text. As that message flashed all across the city the hidden defenses that had not even seen the light of day for hundreds of years rose up out of their housings, that in some cases had been forgotten and built over, and began to point their nasty snouts skyward. Moments after that, the sky began to fill with thousands of bolts of energy flashing skyward towards fighters that were dodging and fighting each other, civilian craft that had not heeded the warning, and anything that the weapons sensors picked up. Some of the weapons were even older than the phaser turrets that were throwing their dangerous bolts into the sky. Some of the ancient weapons were throwing projectiles into the sky and bursting in black puffs of smoke that indicated the round exploding with extreme force. All across the city craft shot towards the ground for safety, some didn’t make it, while others burned away from the city in every direction. The air had been denied to the enemy, but it had also been denied to friend as well.
//<Message start>// BY ORDER OF FLOCK MARSHALL STONEWALL<> ALL AIR CRAFT AND STARSHIPS IN THE ATMOSPHERE ABOVE TRAQUIETEL<> LAND OR RISK DESTRUCTION <> AUGMENT ATTACK//error// REBEL ATTACK//<Message end>//
Stonewall clicked his beak in solemn approval. He made a quick prayer to Thun’Dear Baird and the ‘Cstain god that all those that were innocent would be spared a painful death. That was all he could do for them for his task forced him to be callus and focused on the protection of the commonwealth and the High Tar, casualties were expected.
Augesh 13 2630 SFY,
City of Tranquietel, Pokos
Humbistean District
The air in the great hall was full of debris, smoke, and death. Lucksee blessed all of the gods and goddesses that may have been looking over him and his friends. Even though he was bleeding from multiple places and he could tell that he had at least had a few broken bones he was glad that he was still alive. Some of the thoughts that was racing through his mind were feelings of exhilaration, aspects of his military career that he had left for the work of diplomacy many years go. Other feelings included fear and dread. His good friend was wounded, his High Tar was either dead or dying, and his entire world was falling apart as he knew it. As he looked about the ring of Sword of the Tar troopers that were now around the High Tar, Enomoto, and the few survivors of the attack that were near the dias. That was comforting. He could not help but agree with the troopers that now surrounded them, making their escape to the FTI offices was probably the best choice. His monarch was in jeopardy, be that Armerelos, or Enomoto, wherever the crown laid now. He had to assume that Enomoto was the last remaining noble, even though he saw some lesser nobles, even the wife of the High Tar being escorted away by attendants, but Enomoto was the last of the royal flock still conscious. Lucksee changed his tone to that of a person addressing his monarch.
“Unfortunately, They are right your majesty, if this is something more than just a terrorist attack, we must get to the offices with haste. From what I can see and the entire Royal Flock has been wiped off the face of the universe. You are it, should Armerelos be unable to continue. We can address your change of status at a safer location, but if we do not move now we will have to possibly bury two High Tars today” Lucksee said with a grimace, pain shooting up his neck.
Lucksee’s point was made whole as the battle outside of the palace seemed to get louder and he could hear the distant ring of the bugle and the clang of metal on metal. The leader of the guard out in the forum must have been getting desperate if he chose to launch a charge in the middle of an attack.
“We can perform a site to site transport once we get clear of here” One of the Sword stated as he was cleaning the blood off of his saber before sheathing it.
The sound of battle began to die away, only the sound of an occasional shot and screech of pain, then silence. Lucksee began to panic slightly as he tended to his own wounds while a executive decision could be made on the fate of the incumbent High Tar. The medics tending to Armerelos were getting worried too, even though the monarch was stabilized, he needed to get to medical attention soon or he would go to the underworld.
Lucksee’s thoughts were broken by the sound of a runner who had bandages around his left eye who obviously had come from the battle in the forum. He looked like he was frazzled but he appeared to be in good spirits. The ambassador did not know whether to be happy or dreadful by the appearance of the runner but it was the news that he had to share that made Lucksee feel a little better.
“My gods!” the troopers exclaimed as he saw the High Tar on the ground but gathered his composure “Sirs, Captain Pyteck wishes me to inform you that the palace is secure for the time being, he can hold for a little while longer and he has bought the palace time for reinforcements to arrive”
“Thank you trooper” Lucksee stated.
The trooper saluted the former Flock Marshall and now Ambassador and turned to rush away on his duties, which was most likely to spread the word. If that did not point a point on the matter nothing else would. The palace would have to be evacuated, or prepare for an extended siege.His thoughts were broken however, by the sudden flashes of light and sounds of bursting explosives that were echoing through the massive broken windows of the palace. It took him a while to realize what had happened. The automated city defenses had been activated, all of them, even the ones that had been on the grid yet lost to time by the centuries that had passed since their last use. That would explain the fact that there was flack busts becoming visible against the dusk sky. The last light of Trelani and Trelanios were coming in through the same broken windows, making all of the dust and material in the air light up in pillars, one of which landing on the group that included Lucksee. Heralds of the three religions and the many gods of the Pokosian people would call that a favorable sign from the gods. Be that as it may, it was still beautiful.
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Pyteck stared down the incoming attackers with a fierce gaze. Feelings of hatred and anger rose from his breast, bubbling hot and frothy from his heart and up into his throat. He could barely hold back his anger from bursting out from his beak. He needed to stay poised as his troopers poured one volley after another into the attackers. Casualties had been high so far. The attacking freedom party rebels had taken a heavy hit as they had charged up the boulevard towards the gates. After the initial volley and the dozen or so attackers that fell the attackers started to use cover as they advanced. As it was now, they were at the edge of the district. The troopers that he had at his disposal, had taken hits too. The energy shields that they held still protected them, but from the fire that was being returned was causing hurts. He had a dozen down, a few wounded fighters, and yet a couple of others that were pulled off of the main line and put to duties behind the main battle line to help dig secondary defenses and stack supplies.
The attacks that the rebels throwing at defenders, were well coordinated, but poorly executed. They would start well, pushing forward in waves and making it into the edges of the forum inside the gates but the Gatling phasers would mow them down and make it impossible to push further forward. They lacked artillery, which was a blessing. From the report that he got from a runner that had sprinted from the FTI office had informed him that he had almost an entire corps of guards marching his way and he was going to either abandon his position or dig in an fight for his life. Pyteck looked occasionally towards the silk banners that fluttered to his right. It made him feel proud to be a member of the Sword. It also made him want to prove everyone that the Pyteck family was one that was not full of cowards and idiots. He had to throw his enemies back so that he could have some time to strengthen the defenses of the district and give him time to rest his troopers.
Pyteck racked his brains for tactics, moves, stratagems that would help him in this endeavor. Years and years of military schooling and service and he could not think of anything at first. Even as he racked his memories of his experiences as a trooper during the Dannaversian War. His officers then would opt to attack instead of defend, perhaps that was the answer here. He started to go over the statistics in his head. He had now a total of one hundred battle ready troopers, a reserve of about another fifty, with the walking wounded he had almost two whole battalions at his disposal here at the forum. The decision was made. Attack, that was his only option to give himself, and those still working inside the palace to save lives time do finish their work.
“CEASE FIRE!” He shouted over the din of battle. His entire line went silent. The only sounds coming from the wind and the weapons of the rebels.
“BATTALION! DRAW SABERS!” Pyteck shouted.
All down the battle line the staff phasers were all slung over the back of the troopers and the ting of metal on metal as they drew their sabers. That metal on metal sound was accompanied by the troopers shouting in unison.
“PREPARE TO CHARGE!” Pyteck shouted the preparatory charge. The flag bearer stepped back a bit behind the line.
Pyteck once again made a prayer to whatever deity that would listen. He hated himself, he hated the fact that he was turning his soldiers against the citizenry of the commonwealth. He had fought alien invaders, he had fought pirates, but never did he have to raise his hand against his own people. He remembered the stories his father told him about the first few days on Ranus, and how the campaign had begun in disaster when he had led his regiment to destruction. Johm himself hadn’t made it to Ranus until the campaign was well underway. After the first sharp engagements that had occurred. After the silent prayers the he made, he turned to his bugler.
“Bugler, sound the charge”
The sweet, clear notes echoed off of the walls of the Humbistean District, one note after a number, crisply. The notes rang in his ears, and released the inner anger that he had been suppressing during the fight.
“CHARGE!” Pyteck screeched loudly.
With the end of the bugle call the silence that had fallen was broken by the order and the shout of the troopers. On they rushed, sprinting down the road screaming and shouting their hearts out, their sabers flashing in the waning daylight. The battalion colors waving briskly with the advance and it made him proud to see but his attention was on the task on hand. Only to be broken by the sound of his troopers washing over the first of the freedom party rebels. The freedom party stalwarts fought hard, knots of them held off of the charging Sword for a few moments before they were overrun. That was until a group of the freedom party rebels formed a battle line of their own and began to pour fire into the charging troopers. Pyteck shouted as he cut down another Pokosian that was trying to use the butt of a rifle to knock him off balance. The sword cut through and snapped bone with a sickening greenwood snap. His troopers clashed with the freedom party battle line for a few moments with a flash of saber and phaser. It lasted for a few moments before the freedom party stalwarts began to fall back ever so slightly. That is when Pyteck saw it.
His troopers had spent the last hour fighting with every fiber of their being to protect the High Tar and the palace, but he could see that they were wavering. Even though they had the spirit to fight more, but their bodies were exhausted from an hour of hard fighting. They had gained what they needed. Time, he had to pull his men back before they got over their heads. Pyteck looked around for his bugler, who he found quickly, cut in half and smoldering from a phaser burst. With that avenue he looked for his flag bearer, that was now removing the end of the flag from the chest of a freedom party stalwart. Pyteck rushed over to the flag bearer and began to shout at the top of his lungs.
“RETIRE, BATTALION RETIRE!”
His troopers pushed further downhill, following the slowly retreating freedom party rebels but the few that did hear his shouted order started to fall back slowly, covering their retreat with their shields and firing their phasers as they went.
“RALLY DAMNIT!” Pyteck shouted.
Those that did not hear the first order heard the second through the din of battle. The rest of the battalion began to pull back, sheathing their sabers and falling back in good order back over the broken streets and bodies back to their starting place. Some carrying their wounded comrades back to the Humbistean District. Pyteck counted the amount of troopers that were coming back, and he was not happy from what he was seeing. The charge and the fight before had exacted a telling toll on the Sword troopers but Pyteck was pleased with the results that he had exacted. The freedom party attackers had been thrown back and were doing the same as he was doing now. They were licking their wounds and pulling away from the district and hiding in the alleys and streets that were off of the main boulevard. Pyteck turned to a trooper that was nursing a wound to his wing.
“Trooper, get a message to Flock Marshall Stonewall and the guards in the palace, the enemy has been pushed back momentarily. Another attack is most likely imminent and we require reinforcements if at all possible if we are to hold” Pyteck ordered.
The trooper saluted and turned on his heels, disappearing into the palace. Pyteck prayed that he would be able to hold back another attack. He also had a feeling that he would be praying a lot today. The Pokosian officer that had lead the defense of the forum and the main entrance to the Golden Hall looked around the Humbistean district. It had stood for centuries, survived sieges, famines, droughts, diseases, the augments and it showed on every stone, every statue, pillar had seen it all. The crenellations on the old cyclopean walls that surrounded the district were capped with roofs and ceremonial spikes that represented the ancient defenses that protected the walls and its defenders from aerial attackers. During the days that the walls had been practical, those spikes were not ceremonial, but functional. In ancient times each tower was a enclosed fortress, filled with weapons that could fill the sky death to bring down any flying attackers. Now they were filled with offices, but some of those towers still held phaser turrets that took the place of the slingers, giant crossbows, and the like that had once defended palace. Pyteck decided that even if he could not hold, these walls would still stand, but he would be damned if he would let the rebels destroy the sanctity of this place. His thoughts were broken by the sudden appearance of flack and phaser bursts filling the sky. He nodded in approval. That meant that the rebels would not be able to use the sky to their advantage. A good sign indeed.
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The fire was horrendous. Every time Madison poked her head up above the broken wall that she was hiding behind a phaser bolt would fly by forcing her to take cover once again. Her beak was cracked, her wing singed, and her talons sore from fighting up the royal boulevard towards the Humbistean District. What she had envisioned as a glorious charge into the palace and the arresting of the High Tar had not happened. The bomb had gone off, most assuredly many were dead, but she did not know if the High Tar had been killed. Her column did not storm the district. The officer in charge of the guard knew what he was doing, and he was doing a good job at it. He had hid two Gatling phasers on his flank. She had lost dozens in that first attack. She had urged her people forward several more times but to no avail. Then the Sword charged and forced her column back on their heels. That is when she had gotten her beak cracked. The flat side of a saber hitting it as she dodged the blow, taking her own dagger and plunging it into the throat of the owner of the saber that had cracked her beak. The Sword had stopped its push and had fallen back, but that did not mean that the defenders were not still fighting. Far up ahead she could see that the defenders were piling up debris and other items as a barricade and the nasty snouts of the Gatling phasers were now pointing down the street, sweeping it with fire every time a freedom party stalwart was visible. Sharpshooters were on the walls of the district taking pot shots at those like her that were taking cover.
She got on her communicator that she had on her belt and pulled it out. She had not heard anything from any of her compatriots in some time. She expected that to be the case considering that the battle was raging all over the commonwealth. She knew that it was going on in the city too. As her column was marching up she had heard a battle raging on the far slope near FLOCKCOMM, but the sounds from there had died away not long after her attack had commenced. The sound of battle also could be heard near the Temple District, near the Embassy District, and near the FTI offices. She pinged the battlenet that she had composed with the rest of the commanders that were sworn to the cause.
“This is Madison, report” She squacked into the communicator as another phaser burst flew by and burst on the wall of a building nearby.
There was nothing for a moment and her heart began to pound loudly in her chest. Was her column the only one that was still active? What was going on?
“Madison, this is second column, we have taken FLOCKCOMM. Flock Marshall Jack’sean escaped before we could overrun the defenses. We are securing the location and moving on to our next objective”
The sound of the message made her heart jump. Her fear abated, more reports started coming in.
“Our attack on the FTI offices failed. We are regrouping” one report stated
“The spaceport district has been secured, Central Station has been severely damaged and we could not take it. The entire Guard Corps is at your disposal and en route to the summit to take the Humbistean District, out artillery train is coming along as well as armor and cavalry” Yet another report came in. This one was received with mixed feelings. The Central Station was the station that sat in stasis in the gravity transfer point in the joined atmosphere of Pokos and its moon Plaktea. Being that it was severely damaged, the massive station could crash to ground and cause all kinds of a mess on either planet. The news that she had an entire corps of elite infantry, artillery, cavalry, and armor at her disposal was a shock.
“Our attack through the temple district towards the summit got stalled, almost half our number got pulled into a raging fight around the foreign embassies, I see some Foot Guards involved there as well” a report came in from the last column in the city.
All in all, the battle was going well, barring a few failures. She had the Humbistea District surrounded, but not taken. The spaceport was under her control. FLOCKCOMM was hers, she hadn’t taken the FTI offices but even there the noose was tightening. She had over three corps of career soldiers, civilians, and militia under her command in the city and suburbs. Even though it appears as though there were some battles being fought in places she would rather not, even there the Freedom Party was making headways. She could only hope that things were going well elsewhere. She would find out soon. Her thoughts were broken by the sudden sound of gunfire filling the sky. Phaser bolts and black puffs of smoke began to fill every inch of the sky that was even then darkening towards night. The automated defenses had been activated for the city, by whom she could only guess that some lucky soul had activated them just before FLOCKCOMM had been overrun, or was this the work of someone else. She did not know. Either way, it took the sky from her and she could no longer rely on reinforcements or support from any airborne units.
"Damn them" Madison muttered angrily under her breath.
Augesh 13 2630 SFY,
PCS Most Serene Song,
En Route to Pokos
Singalee looked a bit frazzled while he was working over the controls. He was none too happy that he had to risk the lives of any possible loyalists by venting the atmosphere from the entire ship. He could only imagine that dozens that could not make it to the safety areas would die but he had no choice. He could only trust himself, his two companions that had helped him reach here, and the gods in the heavens. His fingers flung over the console as he hit the last few commands before he executed the action. With an single beep the entire ship began to vent atmosphere. The hiss could be heard from outside the door of engineering as all of the air was sent out of every open shuttlebay, airlock, and other openings into the dark of space. As all this was going on Singalee stepped back and leaned against the railing that was around the glowing warp core and took a deep breath. He was going to have to find the first temple or church that he could when he got planetside and beg for forgiveness. There were many gods that oversaw the underworld, perhaps he would have to find one that would help him come to terms with his actions.The console beeped loudly to indicate that all of the atmosphere had finally been vented. All but the few sections of the ship that were specifically designed to act as internal lifeboats were void of all life, and all air, growing colder by the second.
It was not that Singalee did not expect the incoming message, he did expect one, but this one had come in rather quickly. When he found out who the sender was he was nearly estatic. Perhaps he would not be stuck out here drifting for weeks. He immediately hit the comms button to respond.
“Incoming vessel. This is Flock Marshall Singalee, commander of the Pokosian Commonwealth Military. I concede to your request and are prepared to be boarded”
Singalee looked over at his saviors and gave them an avian smile.
“Your people are fast. I was thinking I might get the pie for free” Singalee stated deadpan, only to break into a mirthful cackle at the ancient joke that he had uttered. He felt the tension that had built up in him melt away and felt much more comfortable now that help was within reach.
