Enemy Territory

By Ryan Viergutz

Vespasian Shiraan, son of the Empress Katarina, infiltrates a space station on the furthest edges of the Aura Empire. When he and his small squad place explosives, an ancient robot awakens and the mad scientist Caspian Acratani ambushes them. Forced to flee in the face of Duke Acratani's overwhelming strength in weapons and numbers, Vespasian and the Shadow Daggers journey through several wormholes to their besieged home.

Obstacles block their path, including Father Sasha, the leader of the Follower cult, and the god he summons to rebuild the world. Sasha picks Vespasian's squadmate Rochelle Sarakshi and Caspian's psychic Mistrala Ethrus to bear witness to his first strike in a long war. The only hope for survival may lay in the revival of a man long forgotten, and a traitor to everyone.

Enemy Territory tells the story of a prince's struggle with the secrets behind an empire.

Cinematic and apocalyptic, it is the first book of a seven book series. It should stand alone as a complete novel in itself.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ryan Viergutz
• Release date: Mar 30, 2012
• ISBN: 9781476128238

Ryan Viergutz

I'm a freelancer, writer, roleplayer and gamer. I don't want to live in the same place any longer than a year for a very long time and I am always yearning for adventure. The first two overlap often enough that they're almost the same thing, though they aren't by anyone's measure. Regardless of the state I'm in, I am always roleplaying and I allow myself to indulge in gaming, usually of a video game variety, sometimes. At any given time I will have a scifi or fantasy book in my hands or in my travel bag.

Book preview

Chapter 1

Great black wheels spun in the darkness of space. Two controlled the orbit of the space station around a barren planet and two more controlled its artificial gravity. Their surface, and that of the elongated station between them, gleamed with silver beacons and transmitters, and the light of the stars around them reflected off the beacons.

To the pilot rolling in from a nearby wormhole, it looked as bright as a lighthouse in the night. A carrier ship, it emerged from a circular ring four hundred kilometers away. Three mecha suits, the Illustrious, the Silhouette, and the Dedicated, flew from its single hangar. The silver thrusters on their feet propelled them toward the station. Vespasian Shiraan, watching the wheels with a mixture of delight and dread, called the helmsman of the carrier, the Corleone, onto his viewing screen.

The helmsman had blond hair and blue eyes. He looked almost childlike, and his appearance belied a five year record in the Aura Empire's space fleet. In his twenty nine years, Vespasian had had much more than that, most of it in nightmarish conditions, fleeing from world to world. Only in the last decade he had found some measure of security. Something about the sight of the forbidding wheels warned him that he was about to enter that desperate state again.

I don't know what might happen out there, Vespasian said. You are to stay in position, evasive maneuvers excepted, unless I or one of my subordinates request that you retreat. If you are attacked, you are to alert us immediately.

The helmsman nodded. I copy, sir.

Good, Vespasian said. Just be ready for anything.

The helmsman clicked off the comm.

All right, Daggers, Vespasian said. The plan stays mostly the same as before, bu with a few alterations. We won't have a lookout, as Skulker got a shattered knee two days ago, but we're also speeding up the mission. We should be in and out within an hour of finding a map of the station.

Rochelle Sarakshi popped up into a five-inch square of Vespasian's display. The holographic image showed only her head and shoulders. Her red hair looked dark inside the cockpit and as short and straight as usual. She leaned forward and stared at Vespasian above a long, hooked nose, a feature that often unsettled people who were not familiar with it.

That's rather daring of you, captain, Rochelle said. It seems to me you want to rush.

I don't like it out here, Vespasian said. Besides, what's life without a little danger?

Tristessa Csaba appeared in the other side of Vespasian's cockpit display. Her thick chocolate blond curls pointed around her head and curved around her face. Dark eyeshadow circled her blue eyes, a piercing glinted on side of her nose, and Vespasian could see on the edge of his vision black leather gloves on her hands. Exactly, she said. You always have to be daring.

Rochelle glanced aside at the holographic image of Tristessa. You would agree with that, of course.

Tristessa lifted a dark eyebrow. Do you ever have any fun, Psychotic?

This is not fun, Rochelle said. This is a very important mission.

Tristessa shrugged. We're covert agents. They're all important.

Let's make this fast and clean, Vespasian said. Try to keep the injuries to a minimum.

Tristessa wiggled her eyebrows. I have some scars that you haven't seen yet.

Rochelle tossed her hands in the air. Let's get on with it.

Vespasian gave Tristessa a quick grin and nodded. He leaned his arms and legs forward, guiding the Illustrious on its trajectory. He couldn't see it from inside, but Vespasian imagined the light from the station and distant stars reflecting on the Illustrious's steel frame. The array of colors dancing across its armor would accentuate the white and diminish the blue. Dark blue wings fanned from its back in the middle of its flight, and its arms and legs shimmered with white.

People likened its appearance to an angel, mostly for its white coloring and its wings. Wings were a common feature on some mecha for that notion. Golden bands around its wrists and ankles also suggested the comparison.

Vespasian aimed the Illustrious at the hull of the station. He stomped on the bottom of the cockpit and the electrodes connected to the cockpit's cords commanded the Illustrious to emulate his actions. The impact shook the station and the Illustrious teetered on top of it. Vespasian rearranged the controls to steady the machine.

He stood on the edge of the station's surface, with the distant pinpoints of the stars all around him and several nebulae in the distance. He looked to the right and to the left and surveyed the area. To his right, he saw the black and orange cocoon of Psychotic's Silhouette mecha. To his left, the saw the white and red hulk of Sunburn's Dedicated.

Vespasian nodded and turned around. He kicked away from the station. There's a hangar about twenty feet away where we can dock, but from there, it's all on foot.

Tristessa's image popped up and frowned. You sure about that?

This is an old station, Vespasian said. its walls couldn't handle mecha blasts.

You think this is going to get violent? Rochelle asked.

I think so, Vespasian said. This dates back from before the war. Hell, for all I know, it might be a lot older than that.

What did the Empress say about it? Rochelle asked.

She didn't say much about it, Vespasian said. She said there's an experiment inside it from decades ago, and we're supposed to find it.

And destroy it, if necessary, Rochelle said. Destroy an artifact hundreds of years old.

It could have been built yesterday, for all she said, Vespasian said. That's only my suspicion. Doesn't this rub you the wrong way?

Yes, Tristessa said quietly.

You didn't ask for more specifics? Rochelle asked.

Would you like to have asked the Empress for more? Vespasian said.

Rochelle shook her head, abashed. Vespasian turned to the station and didn't ask the following question that came to his mind. He didn't want to start an argument in an already tense situation.

Vespasian flipped up two levers in the Illustrious and the mecha's cockpit hissed out. The air fled into the vacuum outside. The retreating air tugged at the cords that connected his spacesuit to the mecha's controls. Vespasian pulled his appendages free of the Illustrious and surveyed his surroundings.

We're not docking here, he said. It's too old and any of several things could be wrong with it. We'll just keep the mecha hovering on the side of the station.

Vespasian ran a hand along the airlock, grabbed it and drew his photon sword from his belt. A smaller sword and less powerful than that of the Illustrious, it nonetheless lit into action. The orange blade punctured a pinpoint into the airlock. Vespasian traced the outline of the airlock and looked away. He saw the metal glow in his peripheral view.

Tristessa arrived and grinned at Vespasian from inside her helmet. Her eyes looked eerie in the eyeshadow. You could have used the airlock. If there's surprises, they would be there either way.

We're a little more maneuverable than the mechas, Vespasian said.

Tristessa shrugged.

The old metal of the space station caved easily beneath the laser. Vespasian opened the airlock before Rochelle came and floated on into it. Vespasian started in on the interior lock as Rochelle landed on the floor of the airlock. She thumped her foot a few time and the sound echoed. Vespasian created a hole and pushed the door into the station. It clanked on the floor and the sound reverberated.

He turned around and gestured at the station around them.' It's old, Psychotic. Be careful how hard you walk. You could probably make a hole and fall in."

Nerves wants the long way in, Tristessa said. We could have blasted our way in here with the mecha.

Don't underestimate aged things, Rochelle said. Whatever the hell the Warlord wanted to protect is still in here... as are the defenses.

Bloody paranoids. Tristessa tossed her hands over her head. I can't say I blame you, though.

Vespasian chuckled and crept into the station. The lights on his helmet and the joints of the his spacesuit sprung to life. What do we have in here?

Dust covered every surface inside, from the desks to the counters to the scientific equipment. Vespasian brushed of a desk in the center of the main room. A swirl of dust whirled up and dissipated against his helmet and he turned as though he could feel it. He saw a name carved deep into the desk, but nothing else of interest.

Rochelle brushed off a computer screen and shrugged. She stood up, set her hands on her hips and leaned toward the keyboard. Learning anything?"

Not really, Vespasian said. There's a name here, but it doesn't ring any bells to me.

Well, say it, Tristessa said. Maybe your memory's acting up.

Vespasian leaned down and eyed the name. Ruggiero Satian.

Tristessa shook her head. Never heard of him.

Rochelle cackled and rubbed her hands together. She gestured the other two toward the computer monitor. As they came closer, she typed on the keyboard.

So what is it? Vespasian said. This is your expertise.

Rochelle looked up and grinned. It looked unsettling in the shadows of her helmet and her hooked nose. I got this thing to start working. I think I have the schematics to the station.

Vespasian crossed his arms. "Do you see anything about a secret project?'

Or anything about trespassing? Tristessa said.

Hold on... Rochelle leaned forward and read from the screen. There's journals from 498 AC in this database. That's more than five hundred years ago! Her hands shook as she scrolled across the rows of information. Should I read the most recent entry?

Vespasian nodded. yes.

Station Dajazzi, entry 1027.54, Chief Researcher Ruggiero Satian. Attention, all personnel. The creature has acted unstable for several weeks. It talks to the other experiments and sounds garbled. We cannot make out its words. The phenomena is not unknown, but we suggest precautions nonetheless. The suggestions are as... Rochelle frowned. And recordings! Aha! There. Research center four. That in the bottom tier.

Sounds like what we want, Tristessa said.

Several red and green dots and spheres started to coalesce on one side of the station map.

Yeah, Rochelle said. I think it is.

Why so quiet? Tristessa looked around the room. The defenses?

Vespasian peered at Rochelle. Looks as though they're on the other half of the station.

Rochelle nodded. They are but these things are really fast. I've heard of them. She looked up at Vespasian. There's a lot of routes.

Vespasian leaned in front of the monitor and Rochelle stood up out of the way. He traced the paths on the monitor with his eyes and his fingers.

captain? Rochelle said.

Vespasian stood up and lit the sword. I think I see the fastest way there. Both of you, follow me.

Vespasian led them through Station Dajazzi. They couldn't look in most of the locked steel doors and, as Tristessa admitted aloud, they didn't feel too bad about that. Scattered tools and equipment across the floors confused them; some looked familiar, like hilts of photon blades and wrenches, and others looked strange.

Glass windows sat in some of the steel doors. Four of five times, Rochelle blew some of the dust from one and looked into the room.

What do you see? Tristessa asked.

I see a body, and I think I see some blood, Rochelle said. It seems a little different than the other ones. What happened on this station?

As they crept further into the station, they saw small, spherical robots scurrying around the hallways. They saw an elevator that looked decayed and chose the stairs instead. When the sounds of robotic legs in the hallways became louder, they ran up them.

At the bottom of the stairs, Vespasian opened a door and stepped onto a balcony. His boots clunked on a steel catwalk and the sound bounced from the ceiling and the walls. He looked all around for any defenses and didn't find any. When he looked down through the catwalk, he glimpsed the desk in the main room, now but a dot, and thought the room reached about ninety feet beneath them.

He gestured Rochelle and Tristessa into the room and walked forward. They followed him and Tristessa took surprised steps backward.

Careful, Sunburn, Vespasian said over his shoulder.

Yes, sir, Tristessa said. What is that?

An ancient robot stood before them. It looked blocky and workmanlike. Its humanoid features resembled a mecha, but it showed none of the colors or sheen of the crystals built into the frames of the models they used. Vespasian saw no wings, nor a cloak, not even a gun or a sword, though they were perhaps hidden inside it.

Scars and scratches marred its steel construction. The topmost peak of its head, bald minus the antennae and cannons of some mecha, towered mere inches from the ninety foot ceiling above its head. The flickering light cast shadows across its surface that seemed to strengthen its harsh design. Pipes and wires surrounded it, many of them frayed and worn.

How do we blow the bloody thing up? Tristessa asked. You said no mecha, captain.

We have explosives, Vespasian said.

Rochelle nodded, then whirled toward the door. What's that noise?

Vespasian looked up at the ancient robot. The pipes snapped and fell a hundred feet onto the floor beneath it. He could barely hear the impact as the wires sparked and swung back and forth. Vespasian stepped backward as one of the sparks touched the catwalk and tore a hole inside it. The mecha shivered. Dust and steel panels fell from the ceiling and drifted into a wide cloud.

And deep inside it, something whirred.

Tristessa tilted her head and looked up. Her eyes widened. It's awakening.

Rochelle pointed at the door and drew her gun. The miniature robots pawed at the glass door. And it's got friends with it.

Chapter 2

Vespasian drew his gun with his left hand, his sword already in his right. He ducked as the mecha's red eyes brightened and he angled his head to the other side of the catwalk. Psychotic, he said, Sunburn. Run!

Protecting our trail, are you? Tristessa said.

There's no need to make this more of a problem, Vespasian said. Run!

Rochelle nodded and turned tail. Her boots tapped on the steel catwalk and the echo was hollow. She blasted streaks of blue energy over her shoulder at the robots.

The robots poured from the door. They resembled golden spiders about as large as a human head. Vespasian recognized them. Several organizations and Houses used them as defenses. They clung to the wall and the catwalk and others crawled on top of them. Tristessa darted backward and glanced at Vespasian. One of the robots leapt onto her face and she batted it away.

Vespasian rushed to Tristessa. He shot red photon bolts around the catwalk while he ran and hoped that it would throw their targeting systems off. He melted the legs of one robot and it fell through the catwalk. another fell as it tried to avoid the bolt. The latter tried to balance itself but could not. The smell of cold burnt steel permeated the research room.

A robot jumped in front of Vespasian's face but he flicked his sword upward and sliced it in two. He ran up to Tristessa and kicked one of the robots off her chest. He offered his hand. She grabbed it, and Vespasian helped her to her feet. He stepped aside. Tristessa flattened against his back. Her blond hair curled around his shoulder.

There's dozens more, Vespasian said.

Tristessa peered at him over her shoulder. You're serious.

Vespasian grinned and sliced another of the robots in two. I'm always serious.

Tristessa snorted with amusement. Vespasian felt her rustle as she shook her head. Eek. The thing actually drew some blood.

Vespasian and Tristessa reached the open door at the other side of the catwalk. Rochelle grabbed the knob and closed it.

Vespasian looked at Tristessa. Is it okay?

Tristessa tugged a cord from the side of her helmet. Tristessa Csaba, callsign Sunburn. Dedicated, docking procedure four. She shrugged at Vespasian. It drew blood and punctured a hole. Annoying, but not much else.

We don't really need the helmets then, Rochelle said.

Tristessa tapped the glass helmet with a finger. Who knows if it's breathable in here? It's bloody old.

The spider robots scratched at the steel door. Vespasian whirled toward it as one, then two, then five golden legs pierced their way into it. The lights flickered and dimmed and the sharp points of the robots' legs gleamed even inside the low, dusklike light of the station. Tristessa looked ready to bolt, but first she glanced at Vespasian.

Vespasian held a finger up and grinned. He grabbed an obsidian sphere with orange and red lights around it from a pocket of his leather spacesuit, looked up and down to measure the angle of the robots, the door and the hallway, and set it onto the steel floor. He pressed one of the red lights and the sphere beeped at him.

What are you doing? Rochelle said. You're setting that here?

Why not? Vespasian said. We're here to destroy the station anyway.

Rochelle tossed her hands in the air. I for one don't want to get sent adrift into the vacuum.

Vespasian narrowed his eyes and stepped toward Rochelle. She gulped. Psychotic, Vespasian said. Calm down.

It's this station, Rochelle said.

Tristessa curled a strand of hair around her finger. I know what she means, Nerves. This place is creepy. The things that they used to do... I don't like it here.

Vespasian frowned. Sunburn, Psychotic. Hold your wits about you.

Rochelle sighed and nodded.

Vespasian gestured toward the hallway, curved an arm around Rochelle's shoulder and aimed her toward it. Like you told Sunburn, we have more important things right now.

Rochelle glared at Vespasian and tossed his arm down. Tell me this, Nerves. If we're supposed to blow this thing and go home, why are we running right now?

Vespasian lifted an eyebrow, drew his pistol and retreated from the grenade. Do you really want to set explosives on something as large as a mecha when it's waking up? It's a big variable, and I don't think the Empress knew that is what would be waiting for us.

Rochelle rolled her eyes, but followed him. What do you think I was doing when I was looking into the rooms? Sightseeing? Here?

Vespasian stared at her and nodded. He glanced at Tristessa and then at Rochelle. How many?

Four? Rochelle said. Five? I'm not sure.

Tristessa whirled around and her chocolate blond hair flew around her face. We have to get out of here now. She looked at Vespasian and grinned. She blew a strand of her hair up from her face. She was having fun, Vespasian thought. "We use the mecha anyway, don't we?

Vespasian nodded. Rochelle laughed and it sounded like a rain of bullets.

Tristessa jogged around them and opened the door at the other side of the hallway. Wondered about that, she said, and gestured them inside it. Hurry, hurry!

Vespasian watched a golden leg crawl around the door they would have to escape from. He glanced at Rochelle and ran to catch up with her inside the hallway.

Tristessa leaned her head around the door and closed it. Seems it's ladies first.

The spider robots hurled themselves against the door. Between that and the bomb, the impact shook the station around them. It led them to the main room with the desk and computer. Rochelle stood next to the entrance to the airlock and held her pistol to one of the other doors leading into the lobby.

Vespasian lifted a finger at Tristessa. Quiet. Listen.

Tristessa heard scratches around them and shook her head. There are too many of them. She looked at Vespasian while they walked toward Rochelle. I told you we should have ran in with the mecha. She flicked her head upward and peered at the four doors to the various hallways. What did you say? Oh, I remember it clearly. 'No'.

Rochelle looked up. Sunburn's got a point.

Tristessa beamed.

Rochelle shrugged and skittered along the wall. Even a cultist has something to say on occasion.

I'm not a cultist, Tristessa said. That was a long time ago.

Psychotic, Vespasian said. What are you doing?

Rochelle bent down, grabbed some cords from a socket in the wall and curved them around her fingers.

Vespasian stared at her. Psychotic! There's no time.

Rochelle shook her head and mumbled beneath her breath.

The robots scratched against the four doors, the sharp noise of steel rending steel, and several of their golden legs peeked through the holes. Vespasian glanced at Tristessa. Seems we get to handle all of them ourselves.

She chuckled, lifted a leg back and kicked several steel plates from the wall. I think Im able to manage that."

Vespasian nodded. Good. I think I know what Psychotic's planning, but I don't know how fast she can do it.

Tristessa grinned, though she looked a little unsettled. She's hacking into the station, isn't she?

Vespasian nodded. I think she is.

I've almost got it, Rochelle mumbled from being mired in the swamp of cords. Hold on a...

All four of the doors to the lobby slammed to the ground within seconds of each other and cracks appeared and stretched along the floor. Robots poured out like a flood. The height of the room muffled the noise, but the station shook and Rochelle dropped half of the bundle of cords.

Pick them up! Vespasian snapped

Rochelle groped for them, spliced them with her sword and connected them together. Yes, sir.

The robots crawled onto the desk, the walls and the ceiling. The computer and mouse flattened. Others joined it and the desk crumpled onto the floor. A glass elevator along the side, long unused and stripped of energy, shattered as a robotic leg pierced it. The robot that shattered it fell into the elevator but leapt out and continued running.

Tristessa blasted shot after shot at the robots and laughed. So much for the schematics!

So much for the station! Vespasian said.

Tristessa shook her head. I hope not! Not yet!

Vespasian aimed at one of the robots' legs and watched it wriggle on its back. He counted seven legs and realized then their model: the NM-4.

That explains it, Vespasian murmured. Aim for their eyes, Sunburn.

Blue and red photon bolts darted from their side of the room and reflected against the golden armor of the robots. Some of them flew back when the photon bolts touched them, but others continued on.

Already doing it, Tristessa said. But there's so many.

Psychotic, Vespasian said.

Aha! Rochelle said and tilted back onto her heels. Three more connections!

Tristessa leaned down, grabbed one of the steel plates and swung it at a robot. Golden sparks jumped between them and the robot squished against the steel. All of its eight optics blinked off and it flew across the middle of the room to land on the desk. Tristessa grinned and crept back toward Vespasian, swatting robots aside. Her suit had several burn marks but she didn't notice. She rubbed her biceps underneath the leather spacesuit. Tiring, though.

Vespasian punched a button at his back. The steel wall of the hangar hissed and retracted upward toward the ceiling. Sunburn, get the Dedicated.

Tristessa frowned. What do you want me to do?

We're almost finished here, Vespasian said. But we need the advantage against the cyborg. I hope it isn't outside already.

Good point, Tristessa said and raced to the interior of the airlock.

Rochelle stood up, grabbed her pistol and blasted a robot that jumped for her face.

Vespasian glanced at Rochelle.Psychotic? The connections set?

Rochelle leaned against the wall and grinned at him. See for yourself.

Gun turrets poked their way from the sprinkler systems inside the ceiling and sprayed the spider robots with an array of photon bolts. The steel walls and the structures of the robots enhanced the brightness of the lights. Vespasian squinted and Rochelle held a hand up to shield her eyes. When the gun turrets finished shooting, pieces of the robots scattered across the floor.

Vespasian nodded. That worked well. You're good at what you do, Psychotic. He grabbed the cord from his headset. Sunburn? Are you there?He didn't hear a reply. Rochelle glanced at him and shrugged.

Sunburn? Vespasian asked, anxiety surging into his voice

You might want to dock, Tristessa said. And do it very quietly and discreetly.

Rochelle frowned. She and Vespasian exchanged a glance.

That's an unusual thing for you to say, Sunburn. Why?

The Corleone isn't here. There's no response from it and nothing on the sensors.

Vespasian felt a cold prickle along his spine.

Is he just hiding? Rochelle asked.

He wouldn't have to follow radio silence. We use a private frequency.

Vespasian frowned, lost in his thoughts. After a few seconds, he asked, Is there anything else on the sensors?

I don't... Wait, Tristessa said. I think the station's mecha's already out of the station. Our mecha are about half the size of that thing! It didn't look nearly this huge from inside

Someone knew we would be here, Rochelle said.

Vespasian nodded. He had seen that coming when they entered the system. What have you sent us into, Mother? It seems so. Watch yourself, Don't let it see you. How far away is it, Sunburn?

Four hundred, and it's closing onto us. Should I engage, Nerves?

Vespasian shook his head. Wait, Sunburn. We'll be with you in a minute.

Rochelle stared at Vespasian. The mecha didn't destroy the Corleone. Who could have done that??

Vespasian tugged a cord from his helmet and murmured into it. That's not the issue, he said. Right now, we need to escape. Get the Silhouette, Psychotic.

Rochelle nodded. Yes, sir.

Chapter 3

The ancient mecha stretched its arms to the sides as though it was a human awakening from a long slumber. It looked at its arms, each in turn, and looked at the three hostile mecha floating at the entrance to the station. Vespasian felt small beneath its dark red gaze and shivered. The Illustrious shook with the sensation, and the Ancient's eyes darted right toward him.

Nerves, Tristessa said warningly.

Yeah, I know, Vespasian said. This mecha might be old, but it definitely isn't showing its age.

Codename Poison, Rochelle murmured. She popped onto his viewscreen and smiled. Station Dajazzi dated back to the 500s, right? It's a good assumption that this mecha does, too?

Vespasian nodded, Codename Poison, Sunburn.

Okay.

Vespasian kicked away from the station and floated within the weightless of space. Rochelle and Tristessa followed him inside their personal mecha, but he watched as the Poison hovered slowly toward them. The old, worn quantum built up speed as it drew