Interlude: Perspectives II
“Are you ready, Talon?”
Talon paused, looking at Pam. The other drone was looking at him, radiating faint curiosity and assurance.
“I think so,” he confirmed after a moment. “Do you think we’re still missing something?”
Talon had to admit he was a bit nervous. This would be the first major operation he’d been a part of, and he wasn’t really sure why he’d even been selected to take part in it in the first place. Actually, it was the first real operation he’d be in at all … He had only Evolved to sapience a few weeks ago, after all.
Maybe it was because Pam was his mentor and he was just tagging along with her? That would make sense, she was pretty cool. Of course the Hive would want her for this.
“Don’t worry, we’ve got everything,” she said reassuringly. “Look, they’re starting to assemble. What do you say we go and join the others? We should set off soon, the sun’s already set and we don’t want to get out of sync with the other locations.”
Sure, he responded, glancing at the people — mostly humans — gathering in the yard below. He and Pam were currently looking down on them from the balcony on the third story. Despite not being a Winged Drone, he liked being high up and feeling the wind on his shell, and it had given them a bit of privacy from the humans.
He adjusted his armor as they left, checking his weapons yet again, for probably the tenth time. He’d trained with them, but they were still a bit unfamiliar. Pistols weren’t that common anyway. But he was a former War Drone, it wouldn’t exactly be his first time in combat (and his current Class, Drone Agent, was pretty well suited for this.)
“I didn’t realize you were bringing any Swarm Drones,” was the first thing the leading human said; the head of a local police office, given what his connection to Pam’s mind told him.
“Talon’s here in his own right,” Pam replied, frowning slightly at the guy. “He has useful skills.”
The man looked at him again. “Of course, sorry, no offense intended.”
“It’s fine,” Talon said, trying not to react outwardly. He knew he looked less different than other Evolved Swarm Drones, but really, did that guy just mistake him for a lower-level drone? Or was he just biased against former non-sapient drones in general?
Pam stepped a little closer to him as the group shuffled around a bit, and sent more reassurance at him. He appreciated it, but didn’t need it. They should concentrate on the mission, which he told her silently through the psychic link.
“Everyone ready?” the leader of their operations in this area, Jen, asked.
Talon added his agreement to the chorus, also sending it over the psychic link. Maybe a little too enthusiastically, given Pam’s nudge. He wasn’t sure why Jen was here, beside the obvious fact that a senior Keeper was the best possible choice to coordinate their actions. She’d have responsibility for the capital and the surrounding area; one of the most important ones, probably. Talon found himself staring a little. It was probably the first time he’d seen an ‘old’ drone in action. In the psychic link, she just had this sense of experience to her that he hadn’t seen before.
Well, both Pam and he were pretty young in comparison, he supposed. Pam was about a year and a half old, if he recalled correctly. Actually, Talon wasn’t entirely sure when he’d hatched — probably three years ago or so — but he guessed it wasn’t quite the same.
“Good. You should move out soon. Remember the plan. Anyone with stealth skills, hide your passage. You all have at least one drone in each group, so wait for them to give you the signal, and act at the appointed time. I will be coordinating you and clarify any issues. Don’t screw this up.”
Talon rubbed his blade-limbs together, creating a slight scratching sound, which a few of the other drones echoed. It was a good way to let out some of the nervousness he was feeling while psyching themselves up.
“We’ll bring them in, count on it,” Sergeant Castaway said, after clicking his heels together, like a few of the other humans did. He was the leader of a group of Star Guard assigned to them — probably not a full platoon, but Talon wasn’t sure — Maybe they had been split up to cover more ground? Their presence seemed to bolster some of the others’ nerves, at least.
“You will be striking a vital blow against our enemies this day,” Jen continued. “We are arresting traitors to the Empire, traitors who would help our enemies ruin us, who endanger all of our citizens in their short-sighted greed and arrogance. We will not tolerate that. Remember that you are fighting in the name of your fellows, who rely on you; fighting to protect our country and our way of life, and all that we have accomplished. We will not let them take it from us. Be cautious and wise, but brave, and rest assured you are not alone today.”
“For the Empire!” “For the Empress!” Most of them bellowed. Talon, like a few other drones, cried “For the Hive!” (Maybe he should have said ‘Empire’, too? Oh well, it seemed to be fine.)
It was a good speech, though, and he felt his determination renewed. He would do his duty to his Hive Queen. Even if he was inexperienced, he’d just make up for it. He would do whatever it took!
They moved out in good order, and Talon took a deep breath. He activated his new Class Skill, Stealth Field. It was might have been the other reason he was part of this operation. It was new and he didn’t have much experience with it, so the field barely covered more than him and Pam, but he wasn’t the only one with a Skill like this. It would make their passage smoother, make people less inclined to wonder about a group of armed people moving out, so they’d give their targets no warning. And as soon as they’d left the courtyard of the police quarters, they were splitting up anyway, squads going to their assigned tasks using pre-planned routes.
He could feel Jen in the back of his mind — her attention was spread among many people, but she was still present and guided him mentally over the map in the psychic link, so he knew almost instinctively where they should go.
It didn’t take long to reach their first target, a large manse close to the center of the city. They didn’t have enough people to arrest absolutely everyone at once, so some of their people would have to repeat this — but unsurprisingly, the plan called for them to confront the most important targets first. According to their intelligence, his current primary target should be at home right now.
The mansion was surrounded by a high fence enclosing a small outer yard, and Talon could tell it had been built with several wings, probably around a garden or backyard, as well. There was no one at the gate, which was made of simple wrought iron bars.
Pam stepped forward and rang the doorbell. They waited for a moment, but then she seemed to decide it had been long enough and pushed against the door. It refused to open, and she glanced back. “Terry?”
The agent she’d named stepped forward, producing lockpicks from a belt pouch. He inserted them and turned the lock immediately, probably using a Class Skill or something. The door swung open with a creak.
Pam stepped forward, accompanied by the Star Guard, then the rest of them. Talon fell into step with the others and glanced around. Their stealth field still held, and no one on the streets seemed to be paying any attention. It was also late enough at night there were few people around, anyway.
Entering the grounds did seem to have finally provoked a reaction, though, and several men came hurrying out of the building. One of them outpaced the others. By the clothing, he probably wasn’t a noble himself, though.
“Who are you, and what do you think you’re doing?” he called.
They stepped forward, and Pam held up a badge and a sheaf of documents. “Imperial police, acting on a search and seizure warrant,” she explained. “We also have arrest warrants for several persons present. Do not resist or we will have to use force. Now, your name?”
The man gaped at her for a brief moment, before he pulled himself together. “What — I don’t believe you. We have done nothing to warrant this!”
“He’s lying,” one of the other policemen muttered. He was probably using a Skill, too; Talon knew those were rare, but it would make sense they’d be more common in the police, and among those assigned to this operation.
“Obstruction will not be tolerated,” Pam replied. “Agents, secure him!”
Talon stepped forward. The man turned, as if trying to run, but stopped immediately when he almost stabbed himself on Talon’s blade-arm. Then Terry put handcuffs on him. The Star Guard soldiers had already moved out to secure the other men. Two more agents were fanning out across the yard, and he noticed others moving to get the back entrance.
Just as planned; the razzia had begun. Talon moved into a guard position, glancing at the house. A look into the psychic link showed him how many people the others sensed being present. And he also saw that the same thing was happening across the city, with the other teams. Jen didn’t contact them, but she was probably busy with somewhere else where it wasn’t going as smoothly.
And, actually, it wasn’t just here in the capital. Looking deeper in the psychic link showed that the operation was starting all across the Empire. Even Janis and the other princes were involved, so Talon had no doubt that they’d be successful. As long as he and everyone else did their parts. But as he watched, the group of people in the building in front of him gathered in the basement, clearly trying to hunker down in there.
Talon smiled. They had more traitors to secure.
Celia clutched the talisman around her neck as she listened to the thumps of artillery impacting the shield. She glanced up. The window of the room she was in only showed a sliver of the sky, but she fancied she could still see the faint dark blue tint of the magical shield, and the ripples caught in it by the exploding shells.
“Lady psychic?” One of the guards — her attendants, she supposed — asked. “Is something the matter?”
“No, it’s fine,” she said automatically.
It has to be fine. They’ve put so much power into the shield, it will hold. It must. She swallowed heavily. Her head was starting to spin again, but she still leaned forward and drew on the sheets of paper spread out around her, marking the latest positions of the enemy forces and their commanders she’d sensed. It wasn’t really her primary duty, but it was still an important one, and she hoped their brave soldiers could use this information.
“Can I please get more tisane?” she asked as she marked crosses on the map.
“At once, m’lady,” the other man at the door gruffly responded before he turned to fetch it. His stubble looked uneven and he had the gangly look of someone not quite grown into their proper frame; he was probably even younger than her. He clearly felt proud to be here, though.
Celia finished her task and stood up to stretch her legs. She’d been given comfortable cushions, but sitting cross-legged for hours still took its toll on her. She glanced around the room. It was in the basement level of the building, and the stone radiated coolness, but it was livened up by tapestries, rugs and her working area with colorful chests holding ingredients for rituals — not that she’d been taught many of those. There was even a fancy cot and an ice box in case the battle turned against them or she had to hole up here for some other reason for a while.
It still felt surreal that all of this had been prepared for her — just her, little Celia from a hamlet in the middle of nowhere, just barely this side of Esemen instead of Elakand. This time last year, she’d have been sitting at home spinning yarn until her fingers ached, not looking at maps.
Sighing, she folded the latest papers and pushed them towards the other soldier, who took them, bowed his head and turned to deliver them to … wherever it was they went.
Still, Celia was a faithful follower of the gods, and everyone needed to do their part — and since she’d been found in her village by the lady, clearly her part turned out to be more important than she’d have thought. She’d always known she had a talent for magic, and she’d been good at guessing what other people were feeling. Apparently, it had only needed Lady Honor and Lady Helen’s guidance to hone her psychic talent.
Not that they had taught her enough to really call herself a proper psychic, if she was honest. No matter what the army said, just to flatter her (strange that she was someone to be flattered). She knew the training they’d given her was very specialized; they’d explained why and she understood. And Celia supposedly had a talent for sensing, which they’d honed to a proper edge.
She closed her eyes for a moment, listening for just a moment to confirm her previous sensing. Since she was good at this, it was on her to track the heathen princess June and make sure she wasn’t up to anything nefarious that would hurt the army, or gods forbid, bypass their defenses. The princess’ mental defenses were good enough that Celia couldn’t tell what she was thinking, but she knew where she was. And the Empire’s other psychics, too. They were weaker, and closer to the front line. She’d told the commanders where they were, though, so they could be countered; so elite forces could be moved to evade or take advantage of their positions. And she knew where the Empire was massing soldiers, without needing to waste time passing the information by messenger or spell, too.
"M’lady?” the first soldier’s voice ripped her from her thoughts.
Celia opened her eyes, wincing a little. She tried not to blush; she’d been looking for longer than she’d intended to. “Thank you,” she said, accepted the hot tea, which he’d taken to her from his compatriot.
She sat down again, sipping at her cup. It was a bit bitter, but she supposed the boy probably wasn’t used to making herbal tea; it had clearly steeped too long. She’d have to tell him to take it out sooner next time. For now, he’d returned to his post at the door. The older guard, standing further inside the room, might have picked up on her reaction and was frowning slightly at the younger one, though he looked more contemplative than anything.
Celia had tried not to look too deeply into her guards’ minds. They were brave soldiers who deserved her respect … and she’d heard enough from people in her village that, well, she didn’t really want to know what past deeds might be floating around in the darkness of their minds.
“The commander wanted more intelligence on their artillery regiments, if that’s possible, my lady,” the soldier reminded her gently. “Do you think you might be able to tell their general state? Maybe if the operators are frustrated?”
Celia nodded. “I’ll try, it will just need a minute.”
She sat down, crossing her arms and briefly wishing for a warmer coat; it was cold down here, starting to feel freezing, really.
But Celia ignored the feeling and focused on the Imperial artillery. They were spread throughout several positions around the city, defended by many more soldiers’ minds. Their barrage was still audible, though she tried to ignore it; it had settled into a constant rhythm. Thud, thud … a little like her heartbeat, actually.
Celia had been working for hours and she was tired, though. A headache was starting to pulse behind her skull, and she found it harder than usual to focus on the minds of the artillery operators. She spared a moment to finish her tea, ignoring the bitterness for the warmth. Her throat was dry despite it. She ignored that, too, honing in on the artillery’s positions.
By the time she finally had enough information to share, she felt downright faint. She opened her eyes and blinked as dark spots danced in her vision.
“My lady?” the older guard stepped closer, reaching out to grasp her shoulder. His grip was tight.
“I’m fine,” Celia said. She tried to stand up, and despite his bracing hand, the room spun around her so suddenly she had to sit down. “Well, maybe I need to rest for a little while,” she admitted.
The soldier nodded. His eyes were dark, but there was a glint in them. She peered at him, pushing at his mind for a moment. It was surprisingly well-organized, defended by intent focus and a desire to see the end of the battle.
Well, it was probably nothing. She tried to muster her strength as he lifted her to her feet and turned to the bed. Using her ability was starting to make the headache feel worse than she’d ever had, and the room was starting to become hot rather than cold. She really needed to sleep.
Celia crawled inside the cot and closed her eyes. She barely caught the guard saying something to the younger soldier, but he didn’t leave her side.
When she coughed into her hand, there was a bit of blood on her fingers. The younger soldier had gone, probably for the doctor. The older one was impressively disciplined; she felt no concern, just steely resolve.
It was the last thing she sensed before darkness took her.