That snag had Kozlov's squad pinned down in the crosshalls of a T-intersection, taking the form of seven crimson-clad human soldiers near the end of the long hallway that ran off of it. Any time they tried to get a look down the hall, they were met with bursts of rifle fire that chipped marble and wood paneling off of the walls and peppered their faces with splinters. The rebel soldiers seemed to be determined to hold that hallway, and it was making the lieutenant no less determined to clear them out.
“Popov!” he called across the hall to one of his soldiers. The other trooper, a corporal, nodded to him to indicate he heard. Kozlov pulled a small, cylindrical canister from a strap on his gear vest, a compact but potent stun grenade. The corporal did the same, and they both pulled the pins at the same time. The lieutenant counted down from three in his head, and then he lobbed it blindly down the long hall. His subordinate did the same a split second later. They clenched their eyes shut and huddled behind cover to minimize the effects on themselves, and then the hallway erupted into a cacophony of light and sound as the seven-banger grenades went off.
The last burst from the flashbangs had barely sounded when the Spetsnaz popped around the corners, their submachine guns raised. The rebel soldiers were staggering and looked shocked, stunned by the intense light and noise they'd just been subjected to. The Russian commandos took quick and careful aim, firing short, methodical bursts from their weapons as they worked their way through the group of enemies. Several of them recovered from the flashbang grenades just as it was too late to do them any good, and they were downed by shots to the head and chest before they could get their rifles all the way up.
Now that the hall was clear, the commandos returned to their task of clearing the area. Kozlov kept one eye on the fallen enemy soldiers as his men went down the hallway, shaking his head a little. Centuries had passed since the last conflict that had pitted humans against each other. What seductive promises could have been made to these men to make them go against that which had been striven for nearly all of human history?
They reached the place where the rebels had been dug in, near a heavy wooden door indistinguishable from all the others in this area of the palace. When one of the soldiers put his hand out and twisted the handle, he received a surprise.
“This one's locked,” he reported to his lieutenant.
“What?” Kozlov asked, blinking. This was the first locked door they had encountered since entering the palace. Why would this one be locked, out of all the others? “Try it again. Maybe it's just stuck.”
The Spetsnaz trooper tried to twist the handle again, and he threw his shoulder against the door with a grunt. The door didn't budge even a millimeter. “Locked tight, sir. Move on to the next for now?”
“Negative,” the lieutenant said, his curiosity roused. This had to have been why the rebel soldiers had held their ground and put up such a fight. Something important had to be behind this door. “Stoli, breaching rounds.”
One of his commandos came up to the door, slinging his main weapon down to the side as he pulled a compact shotgun from his back. The shotgun was loaded with shells containing powdered titanium and wax slugs. He chambered a round and held the barrel close to the top hinge of the door and fired, splintering wood off of the door and destroying the hinge. He repeated this action twice, doing the same to the bottom hinge and to the edge of the door between the handle and the latchpiece. As he pulled back, Kozlov slammed his boot into the door just above the handle, and the door tipped inward and hit the floor inside with a booming thud.
The squad of commandos rushed in, their weapons raised for any sign of trouble. The first thing that Kozlov saw was that this was some sort of living area, not unlike a luxury hotel suite. Furnished richly, it looked like an area meant for guests to reside in. The second thing he saw was two female Ailians, one of them much more well-dressed than the other, huddled together on a couch inside with alarmed expressions on their faces as they perceived the invading humans.
The smaller of the females, with dark blue fur and stripes of gold, rose shakily to her feet as Kozlov approached. He held up a hand to stay his men, and lowered his weapon slightly. The other female, taller and with light orange, black-striped fur, cowered in fear.
“Who are you?” the darker-colored Ailian asked him. “What do you want?” Kozlov was impressed by her poise. She was clearly frightened, but her accented English was firm and unwavering. And at that moment Kozlov recognized her from pictures he had seen.
The lieutenant lowered his weapon all the way, and allowed it to hang from its sling. “You are Li'ren Amani?” he asked her.
The female gave a small nod, her intensely red eyes looking him over. “I am. And again I ask who you are.”
Kozlov offered her what he hoped was a reassuring smile, though he knew that the appearance of a squad of human commandos would not typically be a reassuring thing to an Ailian. “I'm Lieutenant Nikolai Kozlov of the 57
th
Guards Spetsnaz. I've been looking for you, Your Majesty. My men and I would like to get you out of here, if you're ready to leave. I think your Royal Guards will be happy to see you.”
The Ailian Empress gasped, and he saw relief wash over her face. “I...We heard the fighting outside,” she said. “I assumed the fleets were here, but...The negotiations were successful, then?” She placed a hand over her chest. “I was beginning to think they would never work...” Li'ren sank down onto the couch, unable to stand any longer from the flood of emotions welling up inside of her. She was overwhelmed by relief and vindication all at the same time. Could it be that one war would finally end after these ten long years?
“Well, I wouldn't say everything is over just now,” Kozlov said to her. “But that can be worked out later. For now, let's get you to safety.” He keyed up his radio, selecting the channel that would put him directly to the Nuretan General Soumaren. “This is Lieutenant Kozlov. We have secured the primary objective. I repeat, the primary objective has been located. I'm transmitting my position and requesting an evac team.”
******
Ara'lana stepped down between her soldiers, the white-furred admiral walking with measured steps as she approached her daughter. She had a predatory look on her face, a quite evil grin parting her lips to show her pristine, sharp teeth. Aria was gripped by fear, but she stood her ground, coming to stand in the doorway despite the weapons that were trained on her. Her mother paused, looking back over her shoulder at her soldiers, then looking back to her.
-Put your weapon down, Aria,- she instructed her calmly. -My soldiers would love to have a reason to shoot you. I, of course, don't want that at all.- She crossed her arms over her chest. -You can't run. The minute you move, you'll be taken down. It's hopeless, you must see that.-
Aria gritted her teeth, but her mother was correct. Lowering her arms, she let her rifle slip from her hands and clatter to the floor. She stared down Ara'lana, seething with rage as she glared at the object of her hatred. She almost couldn't stand the look of satisfaction on the elder Ailian's face, the smugness of her belief that she had won. The captain raised her head, intent on not letting her anger and fear show in her expression.
-You haven't won, mother,- she growled. -It's all over. By now your fleets are outnumbered, I'm sure of that, and the humans are on our side now. You're going to lose the homeworld, and without Lirna your grip on the rest of the Ascendancy will crumble.-
Ara'lana chuckled. -I don't see it that way,- she countered. -I have the full force of the Pteryd Combine behind me. They are more than enough to handle your alliance. But that's for another day. Right now, I have the little problem of you to deal with.- She clenched her hands into fists. -You have been more than a bother to me, and I intend to see to it that you will trouble me no more.- She waved back to her soldiers. -Leave us be. I will deal this matter on my own.-
Her soldiers hesitated, the aim of their weapons wavering in surprise at this order. -M'lady, perhaps...,- one of them began to say.
-I said go,- Ara'lana snarled. -I can handle one little girl on my own. My daughter is my business. Go and help the others in repelling the attack. That's an order from your Empress, mind you.-
Looking at each other, the soldiers lowered their guns and took one last look at their leader before they turned and hurried out of the meeting hall. Once they were gone, Ara'lana gave a snarl of intimidation. She flexed her arms, and then pulled her sidearm from her belt and tossed it to the side, leaving herself unarmed. Aria blinked in surprise. What was her mother up to now? Did she not mean to kill her?
-I haven't forgotten what you did to escape from me the last time,- Ara'lana said, her feet moving slowly as she stalked towards her. -Major Tal'in was one of my best soldiers, and you killed her. But you took her by surprise. I will not be surprised so easily. I will enjoy humiliating you before you die, daughter.-
Realizing what her intent was, Aria raised her hands and got into a fighting stance. Her mother had taught her everything she'd known about fighting hand-to-hand. -You don't have to do this, mother,- she said, trying one last appeal, as futile as she knew it would be. -You can surrender now. You can call off all of this madness.-
-Madness?- Ara'lana repeated. -Not madness, my dear daughter. Conviction!- With that, Ara'lana launched herself at Aria, pouncing with full force and wrapping her arms around her upper body. They both tumbled to the floor as Ara'lana came down on Aria with all of her body weight, enough to drive the air out of her lungs as they fell. As soon as they hit the floor, the white-furred female clenched a fist and slammed it into the side of Aria's head.
A flash of white clouded Aria's vision for a moment, and she registered the sharp sting of the blow to her skull. She hissed through clenched teeth and fought back, bringing her legs up and wrapping them around Ara'lana's waist. She rolled to one side and struggled to get the taller, heavier woman off of her. While her mother continued raining blow down on her head, Aria managed to get halfway onto her left side. She threw up one hand and caught her mother high under the jaw, not the optimal position for a real throat strike but close enough to cause her to snarl in pain and loosen her hold on her daughter. Aria shoved her away and drew her knees up, and with all the strength in her legs she pushed hard on Ara'lana with both feet, propelling her across the floor a few feet. With the few seconds she had bought herself Aria got up on her knees and reached for her belt holster.
-Damn!- she growled, finding nothing there but empty air. The captain realized that when her mother had stunned her with the blow to the head, she must have used the opportunity to disarm her. Her handgun was lying uselessly on the floor where Ara'lana must have tossed it, too far away for her to get to it in time. The rebel commander was already rising to her feet, and could be on her as soon as she made a move for it.
-No cheating, now, Aria,- Ara'lana scolded her, the same way that she had done countless times during sparring matches when Aria was an adolescent. Her mother clearly wanted to do this her way. -I expected better of an honorable captain of the Royal Guards.-
-The only fairness in a fight is before the first blow is struck,- Aria said. She got back up to her feet, resisting the urge to wipe the trickle of blood that oozed down her cheek and tickled her. -You taught me that.-
Ara'lana smirked, and then she lunged for Aria again. Aria was ready this time, and she sidestepped the attack and hip-checked her mother, sending her stumbling away. At the same time she lashed out and backhanded her brutally across the face. The blow should have sent the older woman reeling, but instead she grabbed Aria's arm before she could bring it back and trapped her elbow. Ara'lana yanked down, and Aria was flipped head over heels before she could realize what was happening. It was only in the nick of time that she was able to get her feet underneath her, but not in time to prevent her mother from kicking her in the chest. Though she kept her footing, she gave an abrupt shriek of pain as she felt something give way in her ribcage.
Backstepping quickly from her mother, Aria held her arm around her midsection. Every time she took a breath, she felt a sharp twinge in her chest, and she knew that at least one rib was broken. She grimaced, her ears laying back, as she tried to will the pain away. As much as her body was trying to compensate for it, she couldn't make it dull completely.
-You're still too slow, daughter,- Ara'lana said. -I always told you, but you never listened.- She advanced on her, and Aria backed off and blocked the former admiral's blows as best she could. -If you were quicker, I wouldn't have the Empress, and I wouldn't have your pet human.-
Aria's eyes flared. -Shut up!- she yelled, and she threw herself at her mother. Ara'lana jerked back from her, but Aria headbutted her right on the tip of her muzzle. Her mother howled as she clapped a hand over her face, blood starting to stream from between her fingers. She pressed the advantage, launching into a flurry of strikes and kicks. Her mother was the one on the defensive now, her arms held up to block the fusillade of physical force. Aria roared, her mind starting to cloud as her rage overtook her. She pinned the older female up against the wall, her knees coming up over and over again, driving into Ara'lana's stomach. As her mother's arms lowered to try to block her, Aria drew one first back as far as she could, ready to deliver a punishing blow to her throat.