"LUNAR:  Tales From Crystal Tokyo"

Back to the main LUNAR page


LUNAR: Tales From Crystal Tokyo

By Daryll Pung

Episode 1-13: Shifting Tides Of War

Rated: R

 

 

Near the Sabaat Asteroid Field, Sabaat system, 13 October 2736

The SLS Destiny

            "Group! 3 Battleships!  Bearing 38 degrees mark 23!" called Sailor Sirius.

            "Got it!" replied Sailor America.  "Torpedoes away!"

            The view from the Destiny's screens was mass confusion.  Green and yellow beams crisscrossed, blackish torpedoes flew past red and white, and the occasional blast of deep reddish-orange energy ripped into blossoming explosions.  Debris and weapons fire reflected off of purplish and bluish shield arcs, with the occasional detonation of an unfortunate ship whose shields fell.  As Sailor America spoke, three DK battleships rose over the group of cruisers in the front of the Destiny, discharging gravity beams as they readied their torpedoes.  Sailor America's control panel beeped, and nine Ghost torpedoes, followed by twelve Phoenix torpedoes, streaked towards the grouping.  The Ghost torpedoes struck the battleships' shielding, causing white flare-up, and allowing the Phoenix torpedoes to hit home.  Two were targeted on each ship's engines, and they ran true.  Explosions rumbled as the engine elements were nailed, adding more debris and ichor to the area.  The remaining Phoenix torpedoes drilled the Negatorpedo launchers.  The three battleships shuddered, and began to lose control.  Two spiraled right into each other and exploded, as the third was struck by one of the nearby cruisers with blaster fire, shredding it and further reducing it to a hulk that slammed into the asteroids behind them.

            "Status?" asked Princess Serena, her pink ponytails whipping about as she turned her head towards Sailor Sirius.  Sailor Sirius turned her head fractionally, hesitated, and called more targets to Sailor America, and Sailor Vulcan answered instead.

            "We are doing well, Princess," reported the stoic Senshi of Logic from the science station.  "We have yet to lose a ship, although several destroyers have been heavily damaged.  The Dark Kingdom forces have suffered extreme casualties; their force is down to one hundred and three vessels."

            "That's under two-to-one odds," commented Sailor Orion with a grin.  Sailor Saturn nodded, a faint smile on her face.  "Reminds me of the defeat of the Spanish Armada.  So few against so many."

            "Kick ass," murmured Sailor Eos.

            "Screen five," reported Sailor Vulcan.  They glanced at it to witness the first death of an RSN starship, as a destroyer spun out of control, a Negatorpedo slamming into the upper half as gravity beams shattered its engine elements.  A final gravity beam punched into its hull, overloading the engine core.  The SLS Pararu exploded from the breach, a shockwave smashing into the nearby ships.

            "Damn," muttered Sailor Saturn.

            "Bearing 12 degrees mark 41!  The enemy flagship, called Ripper!" said Sailor Sirius excitedly.  "Range 6!"

            "TPA?" Reeni said before Sailor America could respond.  Sailor America blinked, then spoke.

            "It's ready," she said.

            Reeni nodded.  "I've got this," she said, again sliding into the console and inserting her arms into the sleeves.  She leaned forward, knitting her brows in concentration, and the golden crescent on her forehead flashed brilliantly to life.

            The front of the Destiny abruptly glowed intense white, and the ships guarding the front dived away, warned by Sailor Vulcan.  The white glow blossomed into a white sphere of pure power, before bursting into a brilliant beam of energy.  The blast ripped into the leading elements of the Ripper's screening force, obliterating them instantly.  The Ripper swerved, trying to get away, before the attack struck.  Its defensive screens held for a microsecond before being overloaded, and the energy from Reeni's Crystal hit the ship broadside, bashing it backwards three kilometers before it was disintegrated.  The beam tapered off, and Sailor Vulcan directed the edges of the RSN fleet to envelop them in a pincer movement; a vicious crossfire was starting amongst the confused and leaderless DK ships.

            They weren't totally helpless, however.  Two more RSN destroyers, a light cruiser, and one cruiser were destroyed, and another cruiser came under concentrated attack.

 

The SLS Minotaur

            The deck heaved viciously, and Archmage Derrelli gripped the table in front of him.  He had been watching until the nearby SLS Satyr had exploded, and the Minotaur had become the target of the DK ships.  They were fighting back; but he and his command were helpless at this point.  It was up to the crew of the Minotaur to keep them alive.  He could still see out of the nearby transparent crystal window; the shield arcs flared again, and again he held on as the ship shuddered.

            His men were all sitting, holding on or bracing themselves to whatever they could.  Torym looked a little green, though not nearly as green as the beam that nailed the shields just outside the window.

            "Mother of Serenity," gasped Mage Torym.  He pointed to an approaching ship.  It was racing right at them, oblivious to the explosions in the background.

            "Whoa," exclaimed Derrelli.  "This is intense."

            Another green beam smashed into the shields, this accompanied by a shiver of bluish energy, expanding.

            "What was that?" asked someone nearby.

            "Umm," began Derrelli.  His eyes widened.

            They lurched as the next blast struck unprotected duranium-crystalline hull, rocking the ship viciously, causing the lights to flicker.

            "Derrelli!" yelled Torym as the lights came back on.  He was staring at the window.  Derrelli looked where Torym was staring.

            There was a crack in the window.

            "Shit!" Derrelli cursed.  The DK ship was approaching very close.  Suddenly, it shuddered, and a plume of fire could be seen highlighting it.  Yellow beams drilled into it with pinpoint accuracy, and small explosions bloomed from various locations.  A tremor rolled through it, and it burst in a tremendous detonation.  The expanding shockwave slammed into them.  The room was plunged into darkness, lit by sparks and small fires, and they were thrown about.  A loud, deafening sound, like the roaring of air, filled the chamber.  A sudden, violent wind began tearing at them.

            "Hull breach!" yelled Torym, holding on to a length of cable that had been blasted loose.  It sounded like he was shouting from a vast distance to Derrelli, although he was a mere meter away.  "Everyone grab onto something!"

            Microcomps, a few blaster pistols, and other debris whistled by, jetting into space.  Derrelli glanced about; it appeared everyone was still here, as they had already been holding on to things during the impacts.  He noticed Torym beginning to slip, and he reached out a hand, catching Torym as he shot by.

            "Where's the emergency force fields?" shouted Torym.

            "No power!" shouted Derrelli.  The only source of light was the explosions outside.  "Call a Wall of Force!"  He could feel Torym's hand beginning to slip, and he was already holding onto the anchored table against the suction.

            Torym nodded, a panic rising in his eyes as he raised a hand, mentally completing the necessary equations and summoning the energy to him.  He blinked as his hand slipped from Derrelli's, and desperately finished up.

            The wind in the room abruptly stopped, and Torym slammed to the floor as Derrelli hit the table.  Both had the remaining air driven out of them, and gasped for breath, along with everyone else in the chamber.  Torym slid a few feet further from momentum, coming to rest against the wall where his Wall of Force contained the leak.

            "Good... call…" panted Torym.  The room was still dark, and Derrelli slowly raised himself to one elbow.  A shimmering force field covered the gap, which was a mere fifteen centimeters wide.  The light from the fighting outside periodically highlighted the silent room.  Derrelli raised a hand, palm up, and summoned his own magic.  A small burst of flame lit the area, cradled in his hand.  He looked around.

            "Everyone still here?" he asked.  "Let's do a head count.  Torym, use your communicator.  Try and raise the bridge.  Let them know what happened.  Anyone hurt?"

            A chorus of "No, sirs" followed, and Derrelli reached in the special, clasped pouch on his belt.  His spellcomp was still secure, and he withdrew it, calling up the roster of his command.  He began calling names as Torym managed to get through to the bridge.

 

In the Atlantis Nebula, Atlantis system, 13 October 2736

The SLS Nephlyte

            Warlock Zyi slowly woke.  It was like climbing from the depths of darkness; he would almost get to the light, getting closer every time, before slipping back down.  He was conscious of someone calling him, and it gave him something to focus on.

            He opened his eyes.

            There were people everywhere.  Archmages Simarra and Felralt were near him; it had been Simarra's voice he had heard.  He slowly sat up, still feeling tingly.  It was then he realized where they all were.

            They were in the brig.  Every member of the crew and special mission force were crammed in the twelve force-fielded, magic proofed cells that comprised the Nephlyte's brig.  With one exception.  Archmage Ereunak.

            He stunned me, Zyi realized.  That traitor!

            He found his voice.  "What's the situation?" he got out.

            Felralt frowned.  "Not good.  Not good at all.  We don't know who's doing this, who's driving the ship, or why the Nephlyte won't answer us."

            "Who's unaccounted for?" asked Zyi dryly, sitting up and holding his head.

            "Not sure," Simarra said.  "Kinda difficult to do a count."

            "Yeah, well, the Nephlyte can't answer; it's locked in its backup core and all command pathways have been severed.  As for who did this; one of our team did.  The one with the knack to put everyone asleep," said Zyi, shaking his head slowly.

            "Ereunak?" blinked Felralt.

            "The very one.  I walked on the bridge after prepping the probe, and everyone was asleep.  He pointed a blaster at me; I knocked the first one away as we struggled, and then he grabbed mine out of its holster and stunned me.  I remember asking if he was an Infiltrator, and he said 'Sort of'," recalled Zyi.

            "Infiltrator?" said Simarra weakly.  "So you're saying this ship is under DK control?"

            "I'm afraid so," Zyi said softly.

            The door at the one entrance to the brig hissed open.  The subject of discussion stepped in.  He sauntered cockily down the aisle, stopping in front of them.

            "Comfortable?" he asked, leaning against the entry with arms crossed.

            "Traitor!" snapped the Nephlyte's captain.

            Ereunak laughed.  "Traitor?  I think not.  You have to be loyal to something to be a traitor.  Spy would be a better word."

            "Spy?" blinked Zyi.

            Ereunak grinned; a singularly unpleasant grin.  "You see, there's actually two types of Infiltrators.  The first kind is the type that kill and replace people.  They're used for assassinations, stealing things, etc.  Those are fairly common; I even helped kill a few of those myself.  I think they're crude, and disgraceful."

            "Why?" asked Simarra.

            "Because I'm one of the more evolved versions.  Every now and then, a standard Infiltrator, while being grown, undergoes a metamorphosis.  They become something more.  I am such.  We don't quite have an official name for ourselves; we're generally called Doppelgangers," he said matter-of-factly.

            "Why are you telling us this?" asked the captain quietly.

            Ereunak shrugged.  "What difference does it make?  None of you will live much longer; even if you do, it's easy to change my features and take a new persona.  And if you think standard detection procedures would find me, think about this:  I passed the Test and graduated Sorcerer training on my own."

            Zyi blinked.  "What!?  Those measures are foolproof!"

            Ereunak leaned in, the evil grin on his face lengthening.  "Except for the fact that when I decide to copy someone, I get everything:  memories, intelligence, body, soul.  They cease to exist and I am them.  They just kinda... dissolve.  Interesting to watch, actually.  Unless I make the conscious decision to take over, I exist as that person.  Not a clone, not a close copy, but as that individual."

            "By the Crystal," murmured Felralt.

            Ereunak's expression darkened slightly at the mention of the Crystal.  "Indeed.  Fortunately for you, my kind is very rare.  One in a hundred thousand who begin to change complete it; one in a million survive past the breeding.  Small consolation, I should think."

            "So what is your plan?  What becomes of us?" demanded Zyi.

            Ereunak looked at him for a long moment.  "Well, we're currently headed towards the very structure this mission was intended to locate, on autopilot.  For all of your information, it is... well, you'll see.  At any rate, this ship will be dissected and studied; mayhaps a counter to some of the weapons will be discovered; like the TPA.  Not to mention all the wonderful information in the computer.  You will all be interrogated until your usefulness wears off, whereupon you will be terminated."

            "You son of a BITCH!" snapped Feralt, leaping to his feet.

            "Tsk, tsk, such language.  You might as well relax and stay comfortable while you can... for all too soon, your lives will be living hell."

            Ereunak's smile flashed once again, and then he spun on his heel and exited the brig.

 

Crystal Palace Briefing Room, Planet Luna, Sol system, 14 October 2736

            "So, what's this about, Serenity?" asked Sailor Mars briskly.  She and Sailor Venus strode quickly into the plushly appointed room.  "We were in the middle of monitoring the battle in the Sabaat system."  Both pulled out the heavy wooden and velvet chairs, and took their seats.  The chandelier overhead dimmed slightly as Sailor Mercury stood.

            Neo-Queen Serenity I raised an eyebrow.  "Relax, Raye.  You know I would not do this unless it was important.  Actually, this is at Amy's request; she needs the two of you specifically.  I called everyone because I felt everyone should know about this."

            "Speaking of the battle," said King Endymion, "how is it going?"

            "We've lost five ships:  three destroyers, a light cruiser, and one cruiser.  Seven more ships extremely heavily damaged; matter of fact, the Minotaur is a hulk in space and will be ferried back here after its troops disembark.  Other than that, all DK ships in the system have been destroyed.  The fleet is currently dispatching the defensive platforms, and we should begin landing troops around 0900 our time," replied Sailor Mars.  "Although, we have no word from the special mission force."

            "The Destiny?" asked Luna.

            "Is fine; they hid inside one of the asteroid mines and conducted repairs.  They did sacrifice the hulks of the Pleiades and the Draco to keep themselves hidden, though," reported Sailor Venus.

            "That could not have been easy," Serenity said softly.  She looked around the room.  "Everyone is here.  Amy?"

            "Thank you, Serenity.  Everybody, I almost kicked myself when I realized just how easy it would be to find the Infiltrators.  We use scanners now, on the ground, to detect signs of Infiltrators in our own people.  However, these measures are fraught with uncertainty; and we've seen them get bypassed.  There is another way, a safer and more precise way," began Sailor Mercury.

            "Go on," said Neptune Knight.

            "Scout ships," she smiled.

            "Huh?" blinked Sailor Jupiter.

            "Well, our scout ships are equipped with the most advanced sensor suites yet developed by the Skunk Works.  They are more advanced than even the sensor arrays that are a part of the spaceborne defenses of the Golden Millennium.  We did tests last year, and from high planetary orbit they could pick out the location of a single individual, precise to within a few millimeters," Sailor Mercury continued, crossing her arms.  "And we have the Infiltrator bio-signatures on record."

            There was a moment of silence.  "And?" Endymion finally asked.

            "Well, due to the earlier restriction of only Senshi- or Sorcerer-captained ships going into danger zones, and the reshuffling of the fleet, there are currently twenty-seven scout ships loitering around the Spaceport, doing nothing," grinned Sailor Mercury.

            Sailor Mars and Sailor Venus blinked.  "You mean..."

            "So, if we coordinate with Sorcerer forces on the ground, and relay instructions from the scout ships in orbit- whom I'm sure would love to help- we can hunt down the Infiltrators and be absolutely sure we get them all?" put in Sailor Uranus.

            Sailor Mercury nodded.  "We've had reports of Infiltrators in only the Sol and Sabaat systems.  We know they're not the most plentiful type of troop the DK has at their disposal, hence they'd only go to where they're needed.  So, we send seven scouts to the Sabaat system to weed them out there, and the remaining twenty can scan every planet, moon, and base in this system."

            "We'll cut the orders right away," said Sailor Venus, as Sailor Mars touched the panel in the heavy red oak table in front of them, revealing a computer console built into the table.

            "But the Sabaat system...." began Saturn Knight.  Then he stopped.  "Never mind.  They have plenty of backup there."

            "Excellent," grinned Artemis.  "Thank you, Amy."

            Amy chuckled.  "Don't thank me, thank the Infiltrator that was executed yesterday.  It was its idea, whether it knew it or not."

            "Poetic justice," nodded Serenity with a smile.  "Now that that is taken care of, how about some ice cream before we all split up?  I could really go for some hot fudge right about now."

            "Nothing changes, even after seven hundred years," murmured Sailor Mars, hiding her smiling lips with her hand.  Sailor Venus simply grinned, noting Serenity looking right at them with humor in her eyes.

 

New Sahara, Sabaat system, 14 October 2736

            "Ground Legion Six calling the Ripper, over," said the figure hunched over the commset.  It was just over two meters tall, with jet-black hair, pale skin, and piercing blue eyes... and an inverted black crescent moon on its forehead, of course.  It glanced up, towards the crumbled base they were occupying.  Ruined structures still burned, casting eerie shadows over the Nega-armies.  The shapes of the spidertroopers towered over the rest.  The Pods used by their force sat idle on the ground.  It turned its attention back to the captured set.

            "Nothing?" asked the troop commander.  He looked similar to his comm officer.

            "Not a thing.  And we all saw the explosions in the sky last night," came the reply.  The sky was beginning to lighten.

            "I've got a feeling the Ripper doesn't exist anymore.  We all saw that bright, white light.  Remember your history.  That type of thing is used to strike a devastating blow to our forces, via that damned Crystal," said the commander.  "Ready the troops for combat.  We'll be under attack soon, and we still have to hold this planet.  Prepare for ground assault."

            "As you wish, Lord."

           

The SLS Minotaur

            Power was still a sometime thing, mused Derrelli.  The 187th were now all strapped into the dropships- which were heavily converted shuttles, with all the comforts, and the RIFT drive, removed, designed solely to transport troops- in the Minotaur's shuttle bay, and they were having problems opening the door.

            Finally, he sighed, reaching to the armrest of the chair he was strapped to, and flipping the cover open.  "Derrelli to Bridge."

            "Go ahead, Archmage Derrelli," he heard.

            "Still can't get this door open; can we blast our way out?  It's not like we're coming back before the Minotaur is taken to Sol for repairs," he explained.

            There was a brief pause; then the captain's voice came on the channel.

            "Go ahead, Derrelli.  Just do it without damaging anything but the door.  Out."

            Derrelli leaned back, glancing over at their pilot.  "Alert all dropships; target weapons on the maglocks of the shuttlebay door.  Fire a few bursts; we're going to explosively decompress the shuttlebay.  All troops, prepare for a rough ride."

            On top of the dropships, turret-mounted energy cannons swiveled around.  As one, they all opened fire.  Bursts of blaster energy ripped into the joints of the bay door, where it refused to retract.  It shortly didn't matter, as the doors were blown out of their frames, and suddenly all six dropships were viciously vented into space, tumbling for a few seconds before the pilots ignited the thrusters and steadied them out.  Derrelli glanced at the small viewscreen above his position, seeing the Minotaur.  The sight depressed him.  The Minotaur was still streaming plasma from its engines; a cloud of debris surrounded the cruiser.  Its bright crystalline hull was nearly black from the scorch marks all over it.

            He frowned, turning the screen to a forward view.  The six ships were in a double wedge formation, and all activated their shields.  Shortly, the six dropships jerked convulsively as they met the initial resistance of the planet's atmosphere.

            "Here we go!" called Derrelli as a surge of adrenaline hit him.  The ride became rough for a short while, then smoothed out.  They arced low, joining scores of other dropships, all headed for the same landing zone.

            "Turrets ready!" he heard.  "Enemy Pods at three o'clock high!"

            "Fire at will!" shouted the pilot.  "Keep them off of us!"

            The turrets swung wildly around, and the stattaco sound of the blaster fire deafened them.  The dropship bucked as the shields took a hit; then Derrelli's screen showed the Pod that attacked them blossoming into a fiery cloud of debris.  His ears were being abused from the sounds of aerial combat and the roaring of the dropship's engines.

            They plunged; despite the inertial damping field, the g-force was pushing them all in their seats.  Suddenly, they flared; the dropship pulled up, its turret still going full blast.  They settled with a thump, and every restraint in the ship popped open as the back hatch swung open.

            Derrelli leapt out of his seat as the desert heat swirled in with clouds of dust.  The air reeked of thruster exhaust; and was rent with the shouting of human voices, charging out to meet their enemy.

            "Let's GO!" shouted Derrelli, unslinging the blaster rifle issued for this fight.  He charged out, in the middle of his troops, Torym right behind him.  Already, yellow and white beams crisscrossed with green.  Explosions echoed, accompanied by fountains of dirt.

            "The hell is that!" shouted someone nearby, and Derrelli turned to see a huge, spider-shaped beast with glowing green organic cannons.

            "I got it!" he shouted, lowering his rifle and raising his hands.  The formulae completed themselves in his mind of their own accord, and he felt the fire come to him.

            "Firewall!" he called.  As he spoke, a thick, billowing, twenty-meter long wall of flame rose about the beast, and it was incinerated instantly.

            Surrounded by chaos, weapons fire, and death, Derrelli couldn't help but to grin at the power he had just unleashed.  All his doubts and cares seemed to evaporate, and more fire began to fly as the battle continued, as the only thing he now cared about was magic, his men, and utterly destroying the enemy.  Time seemed to compress, as spell after spell was unleashed; as blaster after blaster tore into the enemy force.  The green beams began to taper off.

            "Flamewave!"  A series of sheets of fire ripped into the enemy lines, and the last of the enemy Pods in the sky overhead was blown away, turned into a flaming comet that plunged into the nearby hillside.  The ranks of the enemy were smashed, blasted, and routed by the blaster fire and spell power.  As they began to fall back, the order was passed to secure the area and set up a base camp.

           

            Derrelli was somber, several hours later.  The perimeter was secured, and all divisions and legions assigned various tasks.  Theirs was to clean out a mining complex and the remains of a shield generator, and see if both could be restored.  That didn't bother him; the deaths of eight of his men did.  Still, he knew they were lucky; that was the least of any division.  As he looked up into the bright, morning sky, he realized those lives were not in vain.  There were a lot of civilians who were counting on them; it was the purpose of a soldier to preserve innocent life, by giving their own, if necessary.  They would be remembered, and as long as that were the case, then they weren't truly lost.

            He felt a lot better; they had tasted combat.  He now knew what to expect, although he figured a few surprises would still be thrown their way, he knew they could deal with them.  The doubt and uncertainty about himself was fading.  He remembered the shakes afterward.  After being reassured that was normal, he had thrown himself into the tasks at hand.

            Torym approached, the bandage on his shoulder freshly changed from a combat dressing into a more permanent one.  "You alright, pyro?"

            Derrelli turned.  "Just fine, Tor.  How about you?"

            "I'm okay.  Damn gravity beams fuckin' sting, let me tell you," he grinned, flexing his arm and wincing slightly.

            "We were lucky," commented Derrelli.

            "Yeah, maybe," said Torym.  "But we still have reams of paper, and steel-toed boots."

            "And plenty of pens," grinned Derrelli, banishing the serious thoughts from his mind.  "Come on, let's go figure out how we're gonna go about this mission of ours."  The two walked quickly to the field quarters of the 187th, ready to resume their task.

            After all, the people of this world were depending on them; them, and their comrades.

            And they had every intention of not failing.

 

 

STAY TUNED!

Back to Top

1