August 25, 2010
By RahXephon [847246]

Lucifer's Ambition

Lucifer's Determination

The Supreme Temple of Lucifer. For at least six decades, this huge basalt monstrosity was the centre of the civilization of mankind. It was said that Ibuki the Passionate had sketched the design herself after Lucifer himself entered her dreams. The insides of the temple was relatively simple. Underneath the soil, reinforced by nanocompsteel and several other defences were the offices and official residence of the Matriarch. Above that were the halls of worship and sacrifice. The reception area where captain Yamashiro and his squad had entered was dark and dusty. Were it not for their helmets, they would have choked from the sheer amount of undisturbed dust. Their flashlights hovered shakily over the many effigies and statues lining the approach to the inner chambers. Many great statues of past Evangelions stood silent in their eternal vigil, guarding the faded painted murals that described their greatest achievements. The group of men passed slowly amongst these heroes.

There was Rendclaw, the first gen who lasted the longest of his siblings. The Swiftlight, reputed to be the fastest Evangelion ever to be created. The Fireaxe, who has the highest count of death blows to his name. The Anti-Paladin, a venerable weapon's platform and the bane of smaller Angels.

All those heroes paled in comparison to the Angelslayer, its likeness carved before their path on the immense double doors that blocked their way into the sacrificial chamber. The terrifying roaring form held up the Lance in a heroic pose towards the radiant sun of god. Surrounding her defiant body were the fallen corpses of past Angels, all not a single match against the Lucifer-blessed Beast. Yamashiro made the sign of Lucifer before the holy image, and the others mimicked his action.

"Frickin' scary, this.." Shank muttered nervously, itching his launcher back and forth, his flashlight hovering in every direction.

Duke forcibly grabbed hold of the muzzle of Shank's weapon. "Stop that."

Yamashiro interrupted them both, and pointed towards the doors. "Stick to the plan, men. Get alongside the doors. I'm going to try to open them."

The four men obeyed, arraying themselves two aside and holding their weapons ready for any Angel monstrosity that might burst out. The entire temple, from its desolate exterior to its dark interior, felt utterly wrong in the men's bones. The sooner they left with the sarcophagus, the better. The captain approached the humongous doors and held on to the thick rusty ring that served as a knocker. The database entry about the temple had specified that the massive doors could only be opened by activating a sophisticated mechanical system that was meant to last for thousands of years. In theory, the lack of electrical and decaying materials should have left the system functioning. Yamashiro wasn't too sure about that, but he wasn't about to desecrate the temple any further than he had to. Every human being had to answer to Lucifer eventually.

KNOCK.

The impact rocked the entire room, echoing far louder than what should have been possible. Before he could contemplate where the amplification came from, the twin stone slabs began to shake. Dust and particles of stone began to fall, and Yamashiro hurried back to safety as the doors began to rotate on their axis. Darkness revealed itself as the doors finally made way fully inwards into the chamber. The men were tense, waiting for any surprise to pop up as they kept their eyes on sonic, radar and infrared scanners. Yamashiro himself switched to full infrared vision, but he could only barely discern the outline of the sacred chamber.

"Throw a light."

Duke held out a wrist over the opening, and his small palm-mounted launcher ejected a seed-like projectile into the darkened chamber. As it finally landed somewhere in the middle, the seed exploded, spreading thin but brightly glowing filaments all over the room. The tiny stretched strings eventually settled itself in mid-air, good enough to provide fifteen minutes of diffuse light.

With a moderate light-amplifying setting, Yamashiro could finally discern the full details of the central chamber. The room was completely circular, with many gothic carvings on the wall marking the epic achievements of humanity. Simple stone benches stretched out most of the room like a flat amphitheatre, all directed towards the back of the room where one of the most holiest displays of mankind was situated.

The massive carving was called the Ascension of Man. It depicted hell in all its glory, from the volcanic landscape to the many demons that populated its plains. Sculpted by the famous 21st century artist Vincent Cho in an inspiration from Lucifer himself, the unholy artwork mesmerized the eyes of any child of Lucifer with more than just its unnatural detail, visceral violence and rabid depravity. There was a subtle underlying tone throughout the visions; a single connecting strand that somehow transcended the work. Yamashiro had heard about the endless debates of scholars from all the different star nations of what exactly made this facade so enchanting and highly prized to the ancient Terrans, but with merely pictures and other second-hand records, there were never any definitive answers. Until now.

As marvellous the artwork and other pieces in the room were to the captain, he reminded himself that time was short and danger could be upon them all soon. "Snap it out, men. The enemies may be closing in. Let's start extracting our objective."

His sharp tone put the men back into their minds. Shank and Duke moved in warily to the golden sarcophagus, which gleamed softly in the artificial light. Yamashiro stepped closer himself while the men tried to find a way to attach their miniaturized mobile grav generators, without any luck. Somehow the passing of centuries had eroded the solid stone pedestal that held the coffin, leaving the heavy device half-buried beneath the floor.

"Wasn't this solid marble?" Duke puzzlingly asked. "How could it collapse like this?"

"I don't know... and I don't want to find out."

This would be tough.

Lieutenant-commander Aoi sat straight and firm in the captain's chair as she had always been taught, hoping the crew wouldn't notice her nervousness. Despite all her confidence and manner, she was still a relatively junior officer to be in sole command of a vessel of war. With the captain away, the executive officer had to take over though. It was different from standing watch alone, as she could at least wake Yamashiro up if there was something amiss. Now though he would be occupied with his own mission, leaving her by herself. Though she had not much respect for the captain and his overly loose command, she could not fault his experience and knowledge. Without a steady hand hovering over her, she felt strangely exposed.

All her previous commissions were on larger ships that contained many dozens of officers, many which had ranks and seniority much higher than hers. The chance that a handful of those officers would all become dead, injured or unavailable through some unfortunate circumstance and leave her in command was tiny enough to be non-existent. But here she was now, with the captain foolishly down on the surface while she prepared the Bird for her own atmospheric descent. It was one of the most difficult manoeuvres an interstellar destroyer was capable of. She was not enjoying the tedium before a drop and tried to find a way to distract herself from her thoughts.

"Helmsman Perry, what is the current status for preparations to descent?"

She could have retrieved the information from the holo screens around her chair, but it was still tradition to call out the duty stations. Computers and artificial intelligence had come a long way since the Exodus and Migratory Era, but they were still fallible to sabotage and never did have the intuition for priority that a trained human being possessed.

It was also a convenient vehicle to assert her command, which she noticed was sorely needed from the faint contempt that much of the crew still held towards her. The captain only held their grudging respect because he let them flaunt the rules in their face. That she was not so respectful to such treatment only garnered further exasperation and even some resentment.

Perry's fierce eyes glowered briefly before he answered, "Not long now, ma'm. The hull armour has finished reconfiguring itself in thermal-frictive absorption state, but there were still a few jams, which are causing some gaps to remain open."

"Gaps in the armour? And you didn't feel the need to inform me, helmsman?" Aoi threw back with more anger than was prudent to show.

A growing rage stirred inside her mind. That her subordinate act properly in his duty was bad enough. Much worse was that standards and maintenance had fallen so low amongst the crew that the ship could not flawlessly perform an uncommon but standard routine. What if the phasing of the duel reflective/absorption hull armour malfunctioned during the heat of battle? The Bird would have been caught square in the face in a state of virtually no protection besides gravmag and electromagnetic spikes, which were no help at all against lasers.

"It's nothing big, ma'm, just a few kinks that needed to be smoothed out. Mr. Grayson said he'd only needed a few standard minutes to shake them into place. There was no need to bother you with a slight delay."

"Protocols dictate that any malfunction in the phasing of hull armour is to be reported immediately upon detection, Mr. Perry."

"Yes, ma'm." The helmsman grumbled, then followed more softly with, "The captain never cared for these small malfunctions."

"I am not the captain."

Having experienced this evidently sour encounter and learning that the crew could not be relied upon to convey certain pertinent information, she engrossed herself in her console. She browsed through all the status updates of every part of the ship, from engines to environmental to even the galley. It occupied her mind away from dealing with the crew and their rather insubordinate nature while assuring her that the ship could perform to its duty as well as an aged and obsolete destroyer could even after the stress of days-long overburn.

"The armor is fully placed and powered now, no gaps or other malfunctions reporting ma'm." Perry 'helpfully' informed her after ten minutes, with a tone that was not quite sincere.

"Thank you, Mr. Perry." The replied with the same acid undertone. "You may proceed with the planned descent."

The Ion Bird's stable orbit around humanity's ancestral home broke suddenly as her gravmags and engines propelled her into a steep decline towards the planet's lifeless atmosphere. Devoid of bacteria and other certain organic material, it was still enough to heat up an unprepared vessel looking to plunge towards the surface. The ship's dual armour was in its third mode now, which was actually a hybrid between the purely kinetic absorption state and the purely reflective state. The armour was phased not so much midway between them but perpendicular to them both, forming a second axis with remarkable heat- and friction-resistant properties. They would also be vulnerable to all manner of missile and light-speed weaponry, which was less than ideal. Any minute spent during the descent was one of the most vulnerable periods the ship would be in, and she didn't relish being ambushed during this time.

"Mr. Terios, any abnormalities?"

The young officer startled slightly and turned to gaze at her. At least he appreciated her enough to fear her, she thought.

"N-None that I know. The fluctuation in negative space has been growing stronger though since we came closer. It's interfering with our negative space sensors."

Dr. Felton had been going about it for days. He said it must have come from the strange red hazy band and particularly the mysterious black sphere that circled the planet like a second moon. As fascinating and terrifying these two phenomenon were, she agreed with the captain that they had far too little time to study the anomalies in detail and that they had to retrieve their treasures above all else. The scientist was still smouldering over the decision, but spent every waking moment in the system frantically recording and observing the anomalies so he wasn't a bother.

"Very well, proceed Mr. Terios."

There was nothing else she could do but man the station herself, which inappropriate. Besides, members of the House of Katsuragi were always weak in hard sciences. She would have been totally out of depth with the science and technical requirements to operate a sensors and communications station. Terios fit in almost perfectly though. If it wasn't for periodic biometrics inspections, she would have sworn lieutenant Terios was an Ibuki for his meekness and considerable talent in sensors. Certainly not an Akagi though, despite his tuft of clean-cut blond hair. Not that there was any Akagi left in the Empire. All of her descendents had been purged or exiled from the Empire. Some survivors had made it to the reclusive Penemue Technocracy though, which was not a happy thought.

The actual descent was quieter than she realized. She had prepared herself for an array of malfunctions and crises, but as the ship shuddered heavily as she plunged through the upper layer of the atmosphere, none ever occurred. Aoi didn't know whether to attribute it to sheer luck or that the crew had actually worked hard enough to prevent it from falling apart.

It was definitely luck.

The shudder running through the entire ship could not have been completely dampened out. It would have taken too many energy and the ship's capabilities were focused elsewhere. That left herself and the entire crew in an uncomfortable ride as they strapped onto their seats or maglocked with their boots to tend to other stations.

Finally the descent was finished as the ship had leeched off enough velocity and engaged its principle gravmag generators to maintain a gentle decline. With only a handful of kilometres from the surface, Newton's law of gravity had kicked into full gear, increasing the power and efficiency of the gravmag generators to a frightening proportion. If they had dumped all power besides environmental and other essentials into the generators this close to a planet, the ship would shoot out into space with the force of a meteor impact. The ship could not hope to compensate, wrenching itself apart but not before letting the crew inside smash itself into pulp against the bulkheads.

Aoi tried not to think about that possibility and other risks as she barked out other orders. Affirmations and other verbal data responded to her replies. Even Perry's cheek was left behind as he was fully intent on controlling a vessel that was primarily meant to operate in empty space. There were far more systems to keep in mind of under the influence of friction and gravity, and he was having his hands full just keeping the ship straight, not trusting any artificial aid. Aoi thought it rather foolish, though she did not begrudge the natural paranoia every sailor had towards AIs. Anything that was automated could be hacked.

"Two hundred klicks from the target, ma'm."

They were near now. Her sluggish ship would be arriving soon towards the ancient Battlefield where many hundreds of Angels had fallen to the might of humanity. Though she was never a particularly devout member of the church, her pivotal position in this historical event had pushed her into the grasp of Lucifer. She had made her prayers to the Lord of Humanity a scant few hours earlier and offered a suitable amount of blood sacrifice to pay for the transgressions the Ion Bird was about to perform. She had promised to the Lord many more quantities of her blood and perform several depraved and degrading acts if she would make it out alive.

'Your turn, Lt. Maharadi.'

Lieutenant Suraja Maharadi stood calmly in the CIC, gazing up at the holy displays hovering above and the three-dimensional topography displayed on top of the command table. The soft blue glow of projections washed his muted black-and-gold uniform in unnatural light, though he didn't feel bothered by it. He had sat and stood for many hours in the CIC of not only this vessel but on several others as well. He was infinitely familiar of every corner and every duty station in this room. Yamashiro or Aoi may rule the bridge, but here in the center-aft part of the Bird he was king.

The crewmen and ensigns manning the various weapons and defence consoles were as stern-faced and stoic as he, quite a change from the usual routine. While Ensign Travers, in charge of offence, and Ensign Schalter, leading the defence were both rather modest, the same could not be said of what he thought as dysfunctional people.

The MIN Ion Bird was a berth for problem cases, and there were no exceptions here. One of his missile specialists had a penchant for the trade in illegal modifications – which made sending him off on a two-year duty in the middle of nowhere a perfect occasion. The older woman in charge of the mazzers or masitron arrays held unnerving desires to bed young officers – Maharadi kept his ensigns well away from that one. There were plenty of other nut cases in the CIC, himself included, and managing each and every one of them usually proved to be a handful. Not this time though with the impending operation looming over their heads. To be thrust into the whirlpool of Lucifer and the Angels made any sensible person forget about their vices. What they were about to engage in would change the destiny of not only the Merihim Empire but the entire fate of the human race. Their jobs, their lives and perhaps their very souls were on the line.

This was his time now.

He relished his position and the responsibility thrust onto him. He enjoyed the feeling of absolute power, as Lucifer once stood against God and the Champion stood against the Angels. Though he was level-headed enough to know he couldn't compare to either monoliths of humanity, the chance to nevertheless decide the fate of all of humankind was narcotic in its excess of risk and reward. Wealth, power and prestige would all flow towards him if he could help to bring in just one of the Gifts of Lucifer. Imprisonment, death or eternal damnation in the slaughter pits of Heaven awaited him should he fail and shepherd his ship into disaster.

To say he was ambitious and reckless could be an understatement. That wouldn't matter so much if he was Abbadon, which he would fit right in, or was actually successful in his ventures. That he was stationed on a dead-end post in the middle of nowhere said much about his actual talent for success.

Still, despite the indifference of the captain and the mild contempt from the executive officer, he was the only fully qualified weapons officer on the ship. Like it or not, he was the director of the Bird's offence and defence and he would tolerate no second strings. This was his realm by right of his rank and qualifications.

Ensign Travers was triple checking the status and integrity of all the weapon mounts, as Maharadi had ordered. With the state of decay that the Ion Bird had suffered in its long heyday, nothing was without risk. He had been riding his missile armament chief hard with his demands on the planned modifications to the Salamander air-to-ground missiles. Designed for bunker-busting, it also contained a rather nasty mix of components that spread out corrosive substances that would melt a bar of steel clean through. Needless to say, in order to prevent burning through any valuable remains, the corrosive packs had to be removed and the overall charge had to be toned down in order to minimize further damage than was necessary.

"Five minutes until commencement."

It wouldn't be long now before his planned operation would come into motion. He had spent many hours studying the ancient records of the Battlefield and all its former glory and compared it with the up to date long distance imaging. Rotten carcasses of ancient roads and skyscrapers dotted the landscape, along with many artificial lakes and ruins from the century of carnage that had visited the site. Ancient fixed defences and a plethora of hard defences made it hard to penetrate through the upper crust of the Geofront and down all the way to the central dogma.

Luckily, the 1731st Angel, better known as the Butcher had done most of the work. When the Champion had perished from the stress of battle in his old age, the Beast had remained untouched at the gates to which she guarded the tomb of Lilith. Humanity was too panicked into dealing with the First and Second Angel to move the Beast to a more proper but difficult to access space. The gaps the Slayer had burned through were repaired in some fashion, but according to the latest records coming from the planet it was still incomplete.

"Two minutes until commencement."

But could the records be relied upon? How much did a millennium affect the geography of the site? Did the artificial lava flows still run through the carefully shielded layers? Dr. Felton assured him that it did not due to the damage of that last battle, but he could never be sure.

So he assumed it would not, and calibrated his missiles to expect only empty air or water between the layers. If he was wrong... then at the worst he might cause the lava flow through the gaps and into the central dogma, engulfing the Beast and the Lance in searing heat. The Lance might be recoverable with great effort, but the organic remnants of the Beast would surely be annihilated.

If that happened, he'd be better off killing himself immediately. If he did not, then he'd likely be tortured to insanity by the Empire.

'Still, no use dwelling on ifs.'

"Three, two, one."

"Commence the operation now!" Maharadi ordered firmly, though it was hardly needed as he had already timed everything out. He quickly changed the main topographic map from a top-down overview to a more detailed three-dimensional representation. The Ion Bird was hovering high above the target and had just launched its first volley of DTL cluster missiles. His eyes followed the paths of the munitions as it accelerated downwards before splitting up into smaller components at a predetermined altitude. The small, football-sized missiles continued to race downwards in a widening cloud before impacting against the upper surface of the Geofront.

DTL missiles didn't explode like conventional armaments. They didn't heat up to the temperature of the sun like thermal weaponry do, nor did they loosen the molecular bonds between particles like the masitron arrays, although it worked somewhat similar. The DTL missiles all carried a miniaturized and crude precursor to the Weithoff drive. Instead of allowing ships to sink partially into negative space and travel faster than light, the loopers simply turned all matter in its limited range onto itself. The exact effects were rather too gruesome to explain in detail, but suffice to say stuff nearby basically melted into goo.

The surface of the Battlefield was rather thick and resilient as they were designed to deal with loopers. Humanity had come a long way since those days though, and it took only a single volley to loop away the entire upper crust and make a serious dent on the lower crust.

"Phase two commencing."

This was the part where the Salamanders came into play. Loopers worked great in most cases, but punching through the second layer of defence required a bit more finesse. The range of loopers was a bit unstable, which might cause the central dogma to collapse on itself. Also, if even a single cluster punched through fell onto the Lance or the Beast, then his career would be over. He patiently followed the progress of the heavier Salamanders and they dropped through the Geofront and towards the heavy plating that covered their prize.

The first missile held no charge, but was in a beefed up drilling setting. Its hardened and spiked tip glowed bright as it initiated vibro-mode at the same time it started spinning. The single missile drilled a small hole straight into the Central Dogma and a small depth further before the automated self-destruct sequence harmlessly disabled the device.

The next missiles came in sixty-second intervals. Their charges had been set to maximum horizontal, ensuring a wide swathe of superheated destruction. The first one through the hole exploded almost immediately, lighting and disintegrating up a circle of soil and plating in almost a full second. The next ones passed through the opening and further into the remaining hole that was drilled earlier in order to set off a cascade openings. The well-planned sequence seemed to be a carefully choreographed dance to Maharadi, cycling destruction and silence in a regular rhythm that was not unlike a performance. He felt very much the Maestro in charge.

"Final missile has been detonated. Scans are in progress."

This was the uncertain part of the piece. He could not accurately calculate the effects of his sequence of destruction without knowing the exact state of repair and decay of the Battlefield. A millennium under the influence of Adam's Shadow could have had a plethora of effects on the ancient defences. This was why he had erred on the side of caution and kept back the final part until he was certain it could do no damage.

A window popped up from his display. It was Lt. Terios, and his voice was tense. "Scans of this moment indicate that the patterns are well within parameters sir. However, the final layer is significantly more fractured than was thought. Its destruction is projected to cause a large amount of debris to rain down. Sir."

Maharadi already mulled over the Terios' words as he waved him away. Shortly after, a new display popped up, showing the terse face of Lieutenant-commander Aoi.

"Well?"

He scrolled through some displays even though he didn't need the information for his answer. "It's doable.. actually, it's easier. The Salamander's blast would focus more deeply at the outer edges, and the remaining portions that might fall would present less drain to the generators than a single larger piece. I recommend we proceed with the main sequence, ma'm."

The woman in charge grimaced slightly before nodding. "Very well, proceed Mr. Maharadi."

Maharadi tried to suppress his own grimace. He was good at that, at hiding his contempt for creatures such as Aoi and the rest of the House of Katsuragi. Their liberal ideals and flaunting sexuality were a disgrace to the service. The Katsuragi influence on the Imperial Navy was a slowly acting poison that had already wrecked much damage in eroding discipline and promoting an atmosphere of fucking everything on two legs. Where was the duty and honour when all that the service members had in mind was naked hedonism.

'Pleasure to the benefit of man was the way of Lucifer. Pleasure to the detriment of man was the way of God.'

He had heard it often from the words of Dr. Regis in one of his informal sermons. As an Ibukiist the unofficial pastor actually encouraged passion amongst the crew, at least when he thought the captain and the XO weren't listening in. The medical officer was less careful around the quiet and supposedly bookish Maharadi though. The weapons officer had learned enough to see that Regis' interpretation was misguided. Typical of the Neo-Genesis Evangelical Church.

He did not disclose amongst the crew that he was a follower of the ultra-conservative Old Order Church. He wasn't that stupid. Hinting at being a proponent to the true ideals of humanity in the image of Gendo the Father was much like admitting that you had contracted a fatal and contagious disease. Such admissions were not very pleasant.

So he kept his mouth shut and his eyes focused on the tactical display as he saw the missile blowing apart the last layer. Simultaneously, the Ion Bird had started to descent, dropping faster as each second past by as the gravmag generators worked their magic.

The intensifying drop served two purposes. One was to lift up most of the loose rubble that was left in the hole that was drilled in order to prevent any dangerous collisions to any relics that were hidden directly beneath. Second was to simply bring the ship closer to its target. They needed all the proximity they could get, square distances in the laws of gravity and all that.

The stress on the ship grew rapidly as the ship gained momentum. 'The helmsman sure isn't cutting any slack.' The ship started to shake slightly as friction started to rise. The vibrations were low, muted, not unlike the hectic spectacle of an atmospheric descent.

The Bird arrived on the surface much faster than he had anticipated. Perry had slowed down the ship barely in time before that though, and Maharadi was glad the ship wouldn't plunge into darkness at over a hundred kliks per hour. Instead, the ship would be lowering itself into the hole they had just created in a more measured pace while scanning the tunnel and what lay below. The lieutenant kept a careful eye on the raw visuals as the floodlights flicked on, illuminating the football stadium sized cavity.

The damage from the intense heat of the Salamander to the walls of the cavity was pretty much as expected. As they lowered more slowly towards the central dogma, waiting for the floodlights to reveal the state of the relics, Maharadi busied himself with the status of other stations. He made sure some of the missile tubes were filled with clusters of short-range interceptors. While the small projectiles couldn't dent any decent ship, they had virtually no minimum safety range, extremely manoeuvrable in tiny spaces and would not set off an entire collapse.

It was not long before the ship broke through the final cloud of ash and dust and entered inside the famed hall that was the Central Dogma.

The decay and rot was even worse than on the surface. The floor was ripped and scorched. Various defensive hard points were ripped from the walls and lay on the floor in broken heaps. Ichor of various colours stained the walls around them, giving the giant cavern an ominous look.

What was worse was the graveyard. Many hundreds of proud and fabled Evangelions lay in heaps and vast pools of vile yellow liquid. Virtually all of their unholy flesh had eroded away, leaving only bare bones and metallic attachments. Ancient weapons mounts, though pitiful weapons by his modern standards, still lay proudly side by side with their decayed organic masters. Every single piece of what lay in the cavern would be invaluable beyond anyone's entire dream. Even the giant empty cross where the devious and evil Second Angel had hanged naked to the cross would be coveted by millions of churches.

It was unfortunate that they would all have to be destroyed. Their puny destroyer could not hold off even a single taskforce even with the help of the Zagan bioship. They could never hope to hold this system in time to raid its many treasures. There was no other choice but to desecrate the smaller gifts of Lucifer in order to deny their rival star nations.

"Launch the package." He ordered curtly, and Ensign Travers executed his commands.

Even before the ship had finished scanning the entire Central Dogma, half of the Bird's broadsides launched virtually the rest of their complement of Salamanders. The heavy missiles spread out clumsily around the giant cavity as they followed a pre-programmed path before their propulsion cut off, letting the heavy tubes fall harmlessly to the ground, inert but ready to detonate.

"They're found!" Schalter suddenly exclaimed, forgetting her decorum. A sharp glance from her superior put her into place however, and she followed more subdued with, "I-I apologise, sir, I meant to say that Lt. Terios has conveyed that he has determined the probable location of the Beast, and possibly the Lance."

Strange that it took so long to locate the iconic Gifts. They towered over fourty meters each; how hard was it to find them in an open space even with mere eyes? "Any visuals available?"

"Ehm.. no sir. Lt. Terios reports that the Beast has been located through negative space sensors only.. it's behind a wall."

"A wall? But there aren't any other chambers besides the entrance chamber and the great hall, and the great doors are ripped off completely."

His eyes tracked Terios' progress to match the data from his negative space sensors with his other sensors and make sense of it all. The output from the negative space sensors would be heavily distorted this close inside the gravity well of a planet. He understood that time was needed.

"A match has been found! Bearing one-seven-six!"

"Behind the large elevator." Maharadi gasped. Before Aoi could open a link, he already did so. "Ma'm."

"Mr. Maharadi." She nodded back gravely. "I assume you come to discuss the problem that we are facing at this moment. Any suggestions?"

Any ill feelings he might had towards here were completely shoved out of his mind as he almost frantically cycled through his options. They needed to remove the doors barring their way to the Gifts of Lucifer quickly before other star nations would arrive. However, if they did it with too much force they might risk fatally damaging either artefact.

What was the right choice? Small loopers were out of the question, for they were too unstable in with this tiny range. Salamanders as well. Mazzers also had too much depth and very little precision, being a more dispersed armament suited to fending off swarms of missiles or drones. Lasers could melt through the gigantic metal doors, but it would take a considerable time in order to prevent the heat from building up to a critical level that it might damage the Gifts. No.. what was needed was precision work.

"I have an idea, ma'm." He finally replied as he set the shared display to the schematic of the inner citadel. He motioned his hands expertly, controlling the view and zoom level until it came upon the lower end of the elevator. "Every door has hinges. These ones are of a fully internal design, but with a minute or two of careful burning with our forward laser mounts I am confident they can be cut through."

"Hmmm.. that would not necessarily leave open a path."

"Yes, ma'm, but we could use our forward gravmag generators as well to apply a light pull on the disconnected doors. If we are careful, we can pull them from the doorframe and then with localized attraction we can knock them down.. towards our direction of course."

"Of course." Aoi smiled ruefully. "Proceed with the arrangements."

"Yes, ma'm."

When the slow process of burning through all eight hinges and slowly pulling out the doors was done and through, the moment they had all been waiting for was final upon them. How much was preserved in the shadow of Adam's reign? Would he have utterly defiled and debased the Gifts of Lucifer, or would His Lord's protection shield them from the mightiest of God's vile creation?

As the giant slabs of metal were finally pulled down, the glory of Lucifer was finally revealed. Everyone gasped their breath as the visuals patched through.

"Power overwhelming."

There, surrounded by the tarnished walls of the elevator, stood the Beast in all its unaging glory. The very sight of her magnificent glory ran a chill through everyone's spine, as if a heavy and foreboding presence had entered the room. Silent, lifeless, but proud. Her unnatural existence was a shout of defiance to the tyranny of Heaven and the cruelty of God. Every human being alive to this day owed their lives and prosperity to this centuries old weapon of war.

Her lines were sleek, her face was savage. The jaw was shut close, but the lips were set back. The Gift revealed her menacing set of teeth for all to see, as if flaunting the fact that she had eaten many dozens of God's own Children, adding their power to within itself. With every swallow of flesh and every absorption of evil souls the Beast had grown. Not in size, not in power output, nor in speed, but in its ominous presence alone. It was said that in the prime of the Champion's life, merely standing a single kilometre away from Lucifer's own flesh would put a man to knees and a woman to tears. Each and every new soldier and pilot in the line of duty had to engage in an intensive program of acclimatization in order to deal with being in close proximity to the Beast for more than an hour.

Everyone else felt the need to go as far away as possible, to the opposite side of the planet even.

The full aura of the Beast's accomplishments took everyone by surprise, even when the captain and the rest of the officers had anticipated the effect. The records on the Beast were vastly vague about its more.. esoteric properties. In a world of hard science and devoid of any evidence of the divine, it was hard to believe some of the more exaggerated worshipful accounts of the Greats.

The Angelslayer was no exaggeration. Her armour, composed of the latest and most expensive composite materials of the twenty-second century, remained unchanged in design since the Beast's very first deployment. Tall, thin, form-fitting and segmented, the measly purple and green offerings attached to this ungodlike creature was humanity's pitiful tribute to a power they did not deserve but felt grateful to. The surface of the armour was painted in the very finest samples of purple, green and yellow human ingenuity could offer. It was said that a hundred different virgin beauties from all around the world would be chosen to clean and polish the surface of its armour every standard week. Those beauties would be consequently offered to the Champion as a tiny tribute to his immensely generous service, but the Chosen of Lucifer would always decline the offer in seeming disgust.

No woman was ever found to be worthy of his intimacy after Katsuragi the Great's forceful intervention. Though the intercourse had pulled the Champion out of his pain and apathy, it also made him more bitter and distant to the humans he fought to preserve. Not even the sacrifice of ten thousand newborn babies to the glory of him and Lucifer made him fully accept humankind. If anything else, it made him despise Man even more. Was the sacrifice insufficient?

The priests of the then united Church of Lucifer were desperately searching for ten times the number of babies to sacrifice. When the Champion got word of their intentions, he stormed over to the Supreme Temple of Lucifer in person and stabbed all the senior religious officials in the heart with a letter opener. Apparently, the blood sacrifice of old, venerable men and women who had cast out the lies of the Cruel God and served much of their remaining life in devotion to Lucifer was sufficient to appease the Champion.

Every hence year forward, the Church would pick forty senior officials amongst their ranks and proceed with an elaborate ritual of stabbing them in the heart as the Champion did himself at that fateful day. That tradition carried forward to this very day long after the Exodus, with both the Evangelical Church and the Old Order offering up forty of the senior ranks to this envious sacrifice and grant them the reward of eternal pleasure and depravity in Hell. Some say the ten thousand babies, grown in the fullness of mind and body but kept in eternal youth by the grace of Lucifer, would personally greet the new entrants and offer their sinful and handsome bodies to their service. Many priests indeed clamoured to be selected.

Still, it did not change the Champion's temperament. It was said that he had once exclaimed that the only time he would be satisfied if everyone would leave him alone. That was unthinkable. Even the dwindling rebel worshippers of the Cruel God wanted to attend to him – if only to kill him. To leave the Champion to fend for himself would be a gross disservice to Lucifer's trust. The Champion did not quite agree with that opinion.

That bitterness reflected on the Champion's mighty instrument. The Angelslayer radiated an aura of poison and menace, an utterly unfriendly sensation that crawled through everyone's skins. Her faded and sorely chipped coat of paint, forgotten in time and memory, was a symbol of gross neglect to one of the most important treasures Lucifer had bestowed upon mankind. Rage was her comfort, chaos was her sex.

If the Beast was the perfect primal reflection of Lucifer, the Lance was the sum of his ambition. Almost twice as tall as the Beast, the Lance was gleamed in the light as if it was never abandoned at all in the grasp of its master. Being in the presence of the legendary Lance of Longinus was an unimaginable experience. How could any mere mortal pay tribute to such a perfect weapon? Its cool twin spikes had tasted the blood of a son of God, and countless of Angels much later thereafter. The Lance was a weapon utterly incapable of comprehending peace. It craved the blood of the divine so much that it had dyed itself in the same shade of red in its savage bloodlust.

Everyone on the ship sat or stood captivated in silence for far longer than was prudent. Eventually, a systems-wide broadcast popped up all over the ship. It was the XO. "All crew, turn back to your assigned tasks. There is enough time later for worship." And then she disappeared.

"Wow... what was that?" It worked. The people in the CIC shook their heads and shamefully went back to their neglected duties. Maharadi himself had painfully tore his gaze from the visuals and began to check the status of the gravmag generators. They had been straining hard ever since the ship descended onto the planet, but they weren't designed to last more than a day. They had already wasted a few hours and he wasn't keen on staying any longer. They just had to retrieve both relics and boost out of the gravity well as fast as possible.

"Ensign Schalter, what are your projections on our possible methods of retrieval?"

She was working on some figures and was too occupied to turn around and face her superior. "The weight of both are in spec. Vertical retrieval is not practical due to the limited dimensions of the elevator, but horizontal or diagonal retrieval is possible. It will take four primary gravmag nodes to lift the relics to our underbelly. Then we only need two primary nodes to secure the Beast and one secondary node to secure the Lance."

As was expected, more or less. He turned to a recently opened display to the bridge and repeated Schalter's words to the XO. She nodded her confirmation to proceed with the plan.

As if a switch had turned on, the Beast slowly started to drag towards the hovering Ion Bird. The procedure had to be done carefully in order to avoid toppling over either relics. Fine-tuned controls operated by a gravmag specialist carefully localized the focused beams of gravity onto the Beast to insure the pull was heavier on the feet than on the head. Computer aid was inevitable in this kind of action, as there were too many calculations that needed to be performed in too little time. Slowly, but surely, the silent Beast and the mighty weapon in its hand began to pull away from the ground. As the angle between the relics and the ship became steeper, it became safer to lift the two heavy burdens up. Like a magnet pulling on a nail, the ship attracted the relics towards its belly, carefully fluctuating the local strengths of the gravmag nodes as they burdened to retrieve their objective.

Minutes passed as the power pulled back. The distance was almost negligible now, so that less power was needed to attract. Also, they didn't want the objects to collide against the ship, so the gravmag operator carefully eased in the objects as if he was operating a docking procedure. Almost gently, the relics stuck onto the flat surface of the destroyer. Immediately after, small crab-like appendages shot out from the undersides and wrapped themselves around the Relics like a mother clutching her baby. A noticeable sigh sounded out in the CIC when Schalter confirmed the objects were secured.

"Let's get out of here."

Compared to the ship's violent plunge downwards, the ascent was relatively quiet and peaceful. Everyone kept their eyes carefully on their chosen tasks, but more than a few devoted their thoughts to prayer as they thanked Lucifer for their success.

The executive officer inspected her list of targets calmly as the ship struggled to escape Terra's grasp with its added weight. It would be difficult, but manageable. Still, before they could leave, they had to leave one last gift. With a single flick of her finger, she confirmed the list and sent it off to the CIC.

A few minutes later, the munitions that were left behind in the central dogma had detonated. A few minutes after that, the Ion Bird's only complement of strategic N2 warheads had reached to their destinations and exploded in hellish fury. Research centres, computer databases, maintenance facilities and anything else that had to do with the dreaded Evangelions were all blown up in order to leave nothing salvageable for the enemy.

Though the Empire had struck the most important resource centres, a single destroyer did not possess the amount of munitions necessary to strike out all documented locations. Still, it would set back the Empire's rivals.

"Begin full ascent."

"Aye aye, ma'm."

LtCmdr. Aoi sat coolly on her chair, trying consciously to push back the fact that they were actually pulling this crazy stunt off. The weight of the Beast's aura had faded into the background now, allowing herself and others to focus on their task of escaping humanity's ancestral planet and begin to make way to friendly space.

KaBOOM!

Aoi gritted her teeth as alarms blazed all around her. Only seconds earlier the ship shook several unwitting crewmen off their feet as a surprise attack caught them hard. Her eyes immediately went to the status of the still-approaching Zagan vessel, but it was still an hour's travel distance away. Who else could have hit them?

"Sitrep, now!" She barked, turning to Terios as he worked the data of the surprise attack.

"One thermal pulse, duration 0,57 seconds, strength is 6,5 Arcs, significant atmospheric degradation. Bearing is zero-six-three one-five-six."

'Only a single laser strike, and our defences held. If there were more ships in range, they would have had ample time to position themselves. If the bogey is classed as anything bigger than a destroyer, then it would have had the capacity to burn through in their first hit. Either he's alone... or his reinforcements were hours away. Still, our own reinforcement is still at least an hour away.'

The ship shook again, but her armour was still holding off the pulse.

"13 percent until the armour reaches its critical temperature limit. Emergency heat sinks are in place."

"Get me a lock on the bogey now!"

"Working on it ma'm, but the ship is stealthed and is moving in fast orbit." Terios replied as he worked on his consoles.

She turned to the helmsman. "How long until we break out of the atmosphere?"

"At least ten minutes, far too long for the armour to hold out! Our increased mass is taking a toll on our acceleration!"

"Shit!" She cursed unabashedly and turned back to Terios. "You better find me that target or we won't live to make it out!"

"Light missiles incoming! Projected paths suggest staggered delayed launch; unable to triangulate the bogey's position or trajectory. Point defence lasers are engaging."

The simultaneous assault of staggered missiles and periodic pulses of thermal energy continued as the Ion Bird desperately tried to claw its way out. The enemy up in high orbit could not be pinpointed as the strikes came from varying angles. It was a classic up-down duel, but with the added fact that the Imperial ship was burdened with the weight of the Beast and Lance and the opponent was not. It became clear that the ship could not escape in time.

Maharadi's voice popped up from the side. Aoi didn't turn to face him, but listened to his report. "Ma'm, the Black Field Generators are straining at their peak but we still don't have enough power. The capacitors for our point defence are draining but we cannot allocate enough power to recharge them quickly enough. We are simply doing too many things at the same time. And Lt. Grayson says that if we lose a single primary gravmag node in the next several minutes, it would delay us by another fifteen minutes. "

He was right, she realized. They were spreading themselves thin with power. They could not elevate fast enough with the added weight while also maintaining power to the powered armour and point defence. Something had to give.

An idea surfaced in her mind. "Mr. Maharadi, would we have enough time to hold out if we dropped our payload and use all our gravmag generators to bounce off the planet?"

"The stresses to the ship would be enormous, and we are already more than halfway up to near space. However... with the reduced payload, added efficiency of node coverage and a more aerodynamic profile we could cut our flight time by up to sixty percent, seventy-three if we overrule the safety margins." His face turned to an expression of wary concern then. "But.. what about the relics, ma'm? Are we just going to release them and let them drop to the surface?"

That would have been unthinkable even for the most pragmatic Katsuragi. "No lieutenant, that was not what I have in mind. I was thinking of performing a reverse belly launch. Do we have the gravmag capacity to perform such an action?"

His eyes widened at the crazy suggestion. Still.. "It can work! If full power is redirected to our lower gravmag nodes for at least one-and-a-half seconds, then our cargo would be able to acquire enough escape velocity to be launched into orbit. If we hold our launch for more than five seconds, then it will be possible to launch the cargo beyond Terra's orbit. If the enemy ship chooses to pursue the cargo, then it will take much time to catch up."

"Very well then, make preparations for the launch. Coordinate with the helmsman on the angle and timing. Try to choose a trajectory that would lead the cargo to the incoming Zagan ship."

His eyes shaded a bit from that last order. "Aye aye, ma'm. Maharadi out."

They would give up the Beast and the Lance to the Zagan vessel, still three quarter hours out, and hope that the non-human abominations would keep their end of the agreement.

"Looks like the captain will have to make it to orbit on his own."

Lifting up the sarcophagus proved to be more difficult than planned. The miniaturized gravmag nodes needed to be placed below the heavy case in order to be transported stably. With hard work and a lot of hands, they were eventually able to lift off a corner of the heavy block from the broken floor and place a node under it. With some more work they were able to attach the other node on the other side of the coffin.

It was just when they stepped outside the temple when they were met with opposition.

"INCOMING PROJECTILE!"

Everyone instantly dodged, forgetting even about the priceless coffin. Only a second or so later the vast basalt stairs was engulfed in heat and fire. Yamashiro had not been able to put much distance, and was propelled off the steps in a violent wave.

"Auto drones!"

Fire was already pouring out from the ground crew's weapons. Yamashiro thanked his flexible armour for absorbing much of the damage of the fall and crawled his body into cover. As soon as he was safe and clear in mind, he activated his holo display to get a sense of the battle around him. He could see his men scattered about behind the sculptures and walls of the black temple, trying to peek out and shoot whatever was firing back with high-intensity lasers.

Hovering on the opposite side of the street but noticeably closing the distance was a trio of automated combat drones. Having expended their single explosive payload, they were harrying the ground crew with their relentless and accurate laser pulses. He thought it peculiar that the enemy had only decided to send in drones. Was the enemy war vessel too far away for a shuttle to reach the surface in time? After all, purpose-built drones could withstand g-forces in much more excess than human beings, and they could be deployed to the surface from deep space much earlier and with a much higher entry speed. The drones were probably launched many hours earlier then. No reinforcements would be coming soon.

"Duke, what the fuck are you doing!"

Yamashiro hadn't paid much attention, and regretted it instantly when he saw the big crewman popping out of cover in order to fire his portable positron cannon. He got off one shot, but was wildly out of mark even with computer assistance. The drones had reacted shortly after that single shot, firing a trio of laser pulses that hit the cannon, an arm and a shoulder simultaneously.

The weapon blew apart, and Duke's armoured suit proved to be almost no protection at all as heavy burns punched deep within his flesh. Shank dropped his launcher and pulled his colleague back into cover, but it was too late for the arm. Automatic routines buried deep within the suit's programming had changed the shape of the armour and cut off the half-hanging arm, sealing the stump and expending a variety of medical chemicals to stopgap the wound from spreading further. Even the screams were muted by his helmet, leaving only a shaking and agonizing figure behind.

The men were frantically firing their laser rifles at the drones. They were accomplishing some hits, but the drones seemed to be shielded against thermal weaponry. A particle weapon could cut through the drones with easy, but their only weapon of this type had been lost through Duke's foolish actions.

The captain had to take control over the sporadic fire before the drones would reach their location and be able to assault them from multiple directions. The crossfire would massacre them faster than it would take him to empty his pistol.

"Stick to cover! The drones don't carry ammunition, so the stones should provide adequate protection! Fire only from indirect vision, don't eyeball your shot!"

Which was what they were pretty much doing anyway, but he wanted to be sure there wouldn't be another Duke.

"Miss Sterling, can your shuttle support us?"

A short crackling voice replied, "Not at the moment! We're being pursued by over a dozen auto drones! Our armour is holding but our fire can not track their rapid movements very well!"

"Keep the shuttle safe. If you're dead, we won't be able to extract." He switched channels then. "Torero! What is your status."

The sniper responded instantly. "Up on the roof of the Archive and cloaked, sir. I have a clear shot of one of the drones, but if I do I will be discovered."

'Damn. Her rifle should be able to penetrate the shielding of an auto drone, but if the other two survive then she would be vulnerable to a counter-attack. And there is no guarantee whether or not ballistic fire would penetrate the drone's shielding.'

"Maintain stealth and hold your fire until I signal you to do so. You're our hidden trump card."

"Aye aye, captain."

They would have to manage to destroy at least two of the drones before putting their sniper into play. Yamashiro scanned the local environment quickly, taking in the walls, statues and a myriad of other places of cover. "I've got an idea. Everyone, fall back into the temple through the main doors. Mr. Dubien, drop claymores just inside to either sides of the entrance."

Everyone navigated through the plethora of cover in the form of low walls, sculptures and pillars to reach back inside the entrance they had just came out from. The drones approached rapidly, their silent flight unheard by all but the sensors Torero had placed earlier were still tracking their movements. Yamashiro followed the three automatons' progress as they whizzed rapidly towards the single open entrance.

"Get ready, Mr. Dubien!"

As soon as the first drone was beginning to enter the frame, a shaped charge had exploded, flinging fiery explosion and shrapnel in a wide angle. Only half a second later as the second drone tried to pull away, the second charge detonated, catching the robot's gravmag propulsion. The egg-shaped device dropped to floor and was easy pickings. The third drone had retreated back into the open, making it a perfect target for their sniper.

"Torero hit it now!"

Lisa Torero was not a marksman by profession. She was an environmental specialist, taking care of recycling facilities. For someone who worked with human excrement, the stoic and petite woman seemed to be anything but a killer. But killing came easy in her nature, perhaps too easy or she wouldn't be stationed on the Ion Bird. With the right genes and plenty of hours on the ship's simulated firing range, she had converted her boredom into precision, earning qualifications in marksmanship and reconnaissance. Though she wasn't as good as a lifelong trained marine or commando, she was the best shot of the entire crew.

All her vision narrowed down to just the circle of her scope. Computer aids operated the tiny servo engines in her arm to match the flight of the drone. However, like all good marksmen, she did not rely on the motions to deliver the final shot, only to get a feel for the flight pattern of her target. Fighting an AI with models and algorithms was like fighting fire with oil. Only human intuition was the answer. As she directed her implant to switch off the automation, she took a deep breath and lined her shot.

BANG!

The kinetic sniper rifle discharged its magnetically projected bullet towards the expected position of the drone a few hundred meters from her hiding spot. The gigantic recoil had been largely cushioned by her specialized shoulder pads, but as she had put the rifle in its highest setting it still knocked her off her prone position and slammed her body a meter away. It was her only chance to get a clean shot at the final drone, and if she had missed, she would not live for long. She checked her heads-up display to see whether her aim was true.

It was. The drone could not withstand the large amount of kinetic force at so small a surface area. The bullet penetrated the drone's meagre gravmag and electromagnetic spikes to wreck havoc on its internal components. It fell down the streets with a silent cry of digital death.

She was met with congratulations. "Good shot Lisa! Remind me not to mess with you!"

"That's enough men." Yamashiro's calmed and relieved voice cut through the local net. "We don't know if there are more drones arriving and our shuttle is still under fire. Take up a defensive perimeter and await our extraction. It may turn out to be a hot pickup."

A small moment passed before his voice sounded through the comnet again. "And by the way, where's the sarcophagus?"

"..Uhm.. sir, captain... it's here at the bottom of the steps.. but.."

"The lid was blown off.. Sir.. you better see this."

The captain, weary from even that short brief bit of combat, tiredly lifted himself up from the wall he was leaning on and stepped back out in the open to look at the ruined sarcophagus, still afloat by the portable gravmag nodes but had obviously collided against a statue of a legendary Evangelion. The top was open. Somehow the lid had budged itself loose, even though it was sealed with multiple safeties that were designed to last for millennia. Shank and another crewman were standing out in the open, exposed, but gaping openly at what was contained inside. Yamashiro was too distracted to even scold them for their stupidity, and joined them to see what was so peculiar.

With the advanced design and technologies assembled by Ibuki the Passionate herself, the unholy corpse of the Champion should have been embalmed and preserved in the state he had died. Yamashiro expected to see a body who looked to be a great-grandfather.

Instead, he was looking at a darkened, dried-out and half-decayed wreck of a corpse. The abominable sight was more skeleton than blackened skin. The eyes were more ooze than tissue and the rotted teeth seemed more befitting to an old beggar than the most venerated man in the universe.