Lance of the Empire, a Logical World Short.
Posted: 2005-09-10 11:32pm
It's completely unrelated to my actual actual story The Logical World, but it is set in the same universe. It's nothing particularly special, but have a read anyway. And it really is short.
Lance of the Empire
A short story set in The Logical World
Sergeant Landsdowne watched the swirling dust as Helberon came through it. He was a true giant, at least eight feet tall, and built to match. Pennants fluttered in the wind, while the sunlight glinted from the blade of his lance. The air around his suppression shield shimmered as it interacted with the heavy metal plate’s forcefield. His ten millimetre autogun was clipped to his back. Blood splattered the intricate scroll work of his powered armour.
Helberon stopped before the sergeant, who saluted smartly “We have them on the run sah.” He reported in clipped tones.
“Good,” replied the armoured figure “Another victory for the Commonwealth.”
“However,” The sergeant said, and the lancer turned his powerful looking helmet towards the soldier. Landsdowne faltered only barely “There is a small group holed up in a building up ahead. They lack heavy weapons, but have excellent lines of fire. We can’t make into contact with them.”
“I will deal with it. Sergeant, bring your men up in support.” With that Helberon strode on, leaving the Legionnaire to snap off a salute and an ‘aye sah!’
Helberon followed the waypoint imposed on his vision that Landsdowne had uploaded to his HUD. He considered the operation so far. It had been short – a medium sized town whose whole population was nothing but rebels. He had been too rash taking only a fast response group to deal with it, dropping in without proper heavy support, but he had doubted that they would have had any dangerous equipment. He had been right – what equipment they did have was definitely substandard – armour that would have had trouble stopping firearms thousands of years old, though they did have some larger weapons which only barely bothered his Legionnaires and bounced off of his power suit like water off of a dog’s back. No energy weapons, no shield generators, no automuscle, no cyborgs, or mechanoids, no rocket launchers, no combat vehicles. All in all, they posed little threat to Helberon and the dozen or so men of his cadre.
He approached the building, a small estate of sorts. The burnt out husks of cars, punctured by the weapons of his soldiers, sat strewn before the front entrance. He could see gory bodies lying, their guns held loosely in their dead hands. There were three Legionnaires in their combat armour and bullet proof and flame retardant longcoats. They had gotten fairly far before having been taken down, probably by heavily concentrated gunfire.
Three more Imperial soldiers were in cover, even though at this range they were more or less safe. Helberon tapped the butt of his lance against the ground with enough force to crack the ferrocrete.
“Why have you not simply shot them from here?” he queried. The distance was remarkably short.
“They’ve got screens up sir. Were trying to neutralise it, but until then we can’t see inside.” Helberon nodded curtly. Now it got interesting.
“I will enter the building. Any indication of anti-material rifles, heavy grasers or the like?”
“No sir.”
“Good. You will follow me up when they are incapable of making use of concentrated fire against you.” With that the lancer strode on. He broke into a run.
He switched between multiple spectra as he loped forward, but he couldn’t see anything. It was four hundred metres to the front door, and they started firing about five seconds into his run, when he was almost half way there. He calculated there must have been at least a dozen firers, but all their bullets simply pinged from his armour. Missed rounds chewed up the driveway and punched through car bodies. Up ahead, standing before the doorway he could see a roughly dressed and bleeding rebel with a heavy shotcannon in hand.
Helberon leaped the bonnet of one of the cars which blocked his path. As he landed he triggered the sonic weapon in his suppression shield, picking the rebel off of his feet, bursting his ear drums and blowing him through the front doors. Helberon entered the lobby, one large and sweeping staircase before him, balconies circling the around him. Men and women were pouring in, weapons blazing uselessly. Already sonic vibrations were permeating the room, dropping some into screaming fits. He turned his lance towards one side of the balcony and opened fire, the beam of deadly energy striking it instantly and destroying a goodly portion of the room. Debris rained across them all, larger chunks occasionally striking down rebels.
He heard the subsonic vibrations of a progressive weapon, which he knew could slice through his armour, then an angry yell. He turned monstrously quickly, his lances haft shortening as he did so. His first strike with his blade literally destroyed the man’s blow; his backstroke split him into two pieces. He very literally had no idea what happened.
Louder gunshots had started booming, someone had picked up the shotcannon that had been blown inside. Solid slugs moved him and he turned back to the staircase, flinging his weapon as he did so. It impaled the woman with the cannon standing near the top of the stairs and drove her through the window above her. Helberon made a mental note to send one of his Legionnaires to fetch it as he unlimbered his autogun. He sprayed fire across the left balcony, completely collapsing the wall.
Most had probably fled by now, and his Legionnaires had entered now, all eight of them, having watched the live feed of the past minute or so. “Scour the building.” Helberon ordered “Leave none alive.” There was a chorus of aye sirs before the cadre split into four teams, some exiting through the lower doors, another team leaping up onto the balcony that had not been completely destroyed. “And one of you retrieve my lance.” He added over their microbeads.
Lancer Helberon lowered his autogun, blue gun-smoke still drifting up from the barrel. He surveyed the destruction he caused, and saw that it was good.
Lance of the Empire
A short story set in The Logical World
Sergeant Landsdowne watched the swirling dust as Helberon came through it. He was a true giant, at least eight feet tall, and built to match. Pennants fluttered in the wind, while the sunlight glinted from the blade of his lance. The air around his suppression shield shimmered as it interacted with the heavy metal plate’s forcefield. His ten millimetre autogun was clipped to his back. Blood splattered the intricate scroll work of his powered armour.
Helberon stopped before the sergeant, who saluted smartly “We have them on the run sah.” He reported in clipped tones.
“Good,” replied the armoured figure “Another victory for the Commonwealth.”
“However,” The sergeant said, and the lancer turned his powerful looking helmet towards the soldier. Landsdowne faltered only barely “There is a small group holed up in a building up ahead. They lack heavy weapons, but have excellent lines of fire. We can’t make into contact with them.”
“I will deal with it. Sergeant, bring your men up in support.” With that Helberon strode on, leaving the Legionnaire to snap off a salute and an ‘aye sah!’
Helberon followed the waypoint imposed on his vision that Landsdowne had uploaded to his HUD. He considered the operation so far. It had been short – a medium sized town whose whole population was nothing but rebels. He had been too rash taking only a fast response group to deal with it, dropping in without proper heavy support, but he had doubted that they would have had any dangerous equipment. He had been right – what equipment they did have was definitely substandard – armour that would have had trouble stopping firearms thousands of years old, though they did have some larger weapons which only barely bothered his Legionnaires and bounced off of his power suit like water off of a dog’s back. No energy weapons, no shield generators, no automuscle, no cyborgs, or mechanoids, no rocket launchers, no combat vehicles. All in all, they posed little threat to Helberon and the dozen or so men of his cadre.
He approached the building, a small estate of sorts. The burnt out husks of cars, punctured by the weapons of his soldiers, sat strewn before the front entrance. He could see gory bodies lying, their guns held loosely in their dead hands. There were three Legionnaires in their combat armour and bullet proof and flame retardant longcoats. They had gotten fairly far before having been taken down, probably by heavily concentrated gunfire.
Three more Imperial soldiers were in cover, even though at this range they were more or less safe. Helberon tapped the butt of his lance against the ground with enough force to crack the ferrocrete.
“Why have you not simply shot them from here?” he queried. The distance was remarkably short.
“They’ve got screens up sir. Were trying to neutralise it, but until then we can’t see inside.” Helberon nodded curtly. Now it got interesting.
“I will enter the building. Any indication of anti-material rifles, heavy grasers or the like?”
“No sir.”
“Good. You will follow me up when they are incapable of making use of concentrated fire against you.” With that the lancer strode on. He broke into a run.
He switched between multiple spectra as he loped forward, but he couldn’t see anything. It was four hundred metres to the front door, and they started firing about five seconds into his run, when he was almost half way there. He calculated there must have been at least a dozen firers, but all their bullets simply pinged from his armour. Missed rounds chewed up the driveway and punched through car bodies. Up ahead, standing before the doorway he could see a roughly dressed and bleeding rebel with a heavy shotcannon in hand.
Helberon leaped the bonnet of one of the cars which blocked his path. As he landed he triggered the sonic weapon in his suppression shield, picking the rebel off of his feet, bursting his ear drums and blowing him through the front doors. Helberon entered the lobby, one large and sweeping staircase before him, balconies circling the around him. Men and women were pouring in, weapons blazing uselessly. Already sonic vibrations were permeating the room, dropping some into screaming fits. He turned his lance towards one side of the balcony and opened fire, the beam of deadly energy striking it instantly and destroying a goodly portion of the room. Debris rained across them all, larger chunks occasionally striking down rebels.
He heard the subsonic vibrations of a progressive weapon, which he knew could slice through his armour, then an angry yell. He turned monstrously quickly, his lances haft shortening as he did so. His first strike with his blade literally destroyed the man’s blow; his backstroke split him into two pieces. He very literally had no idea what happened.
Louder gunshots had started booming, someone had picked up the shotcannon that had been blown inside. Solid slugs moved him and he turned back to the staircase, flinging his weapon as he did so. It impaled the woman with the cannon standing near the top of the stairs and drove her through the window above her. Helberon made a mental note to send one of his Legionnaires to fetch it as he unlimbered his autogun. He sprayed fire across the left balcony, completely collapsing the wall.
Most had probably fled by now, and his Legionnaires had entered now, all eight of them, having watched the live feed of the past minute or so. “Scour the building.” Helberon ordered “Leave none alive.” There was a chorus of aye sirs before the cadre split into four teams, some exiting through the lower doors, another team leaping up onto the balcony that had not been completely destroyed. “And one of you retrieve my lance.” He added over their microbeads.
Lancer Helberon lowered his autogun, blue gun-smoke still drifting up from the barrel. He surveyed the destruction he caused, and saw that it was good.
