To Join in Battle -- Author: Will Keith, Kappa Squad, TRES Corps.

   "James; ready assault."
   "Ready in Hogg."  I slipped over the roof edge and slid down three
stories with one hand on the ornamental stone screens, dropping the last
floor.
   The twenty or so mages that faced me under the overhang were ready.
They had heard the sounds, obviously, but only awaited instructions.  Their
expressions ranged from interested to excited.
   "It's time.  Everybody, drop your cloaks, they'll only interfere once
we're in.  Marker, give me sight with James.  Fred, get ready to break the
doors on my signal."  I received sight of James, surrounded by his own
side.  He said nothing.  I raised my hand, five fingers outstretched, and
he did the same. I lowered the thumb -
   pinky -
   Arthur started up the melody which would lead into "Strings of Fire,"
from Lord of the Dance.  Later he would switch to "Warriors"; hopefully
"Breakout" and "Victory" would follow.
   ring -
   middle -
   index.
   It was Fred's signal.  He opened his palm on an excellently whittled
model of the Tower's side doors, then crushed them in his fist.  Across the
street, the glass and steel in the side doors fractured, then ripped from
their hinges.
   Inside, two sponges stood stunned for a moment, then remembered what
they were about and pointed their guns.
   "Take the one on the right," I ordered as I raised the MathAttackicus.
I had squeezed off three shots before my brain registered that I had fired.
   Beside me, some five people decided that I had been talking to them.
The sponge was subjected to a barrage of matter and energies that melted
into one another and mercifully did him off instantly.
   The perimeter team raised the illusion of an empty street over the
windows facing us and incapacitated the few who looked like they were going
to try potshots, while we ran two by two into the doors.  Our vanguard was
two warders, who slowed as they entered.  Behind them, two by two,
personnel split off from the group and warded the doors as we passed.
Leaving these behind to secure our escape route, we traded fire with the
few spongin in the halls and intersection, obviously surprised and
disorganized.  The MathAttackicus downed every target I aimed at, set on
full power, which would turn a sponge unconscious whether or not it worked.
Still, there were enough of them that I couldn't take everybody.  From all
around me came flashes of light, spheres of flame, glowing spikes darting
in to strike.
   Unarmored, we would have been vulnerable to even spongies' mundane
blades and bullets, not to mention energy weapons, but plenty among us were
taking care of the defensive end of things.  The air around the opposing
forces turned to treacle; their eyes and stances betrayed their reaction at
seeing the building seem to twist and heave; several dropped their weapons,
crying out in pain as they thought the handles had turned red-hot.
   Let's face it.  When you got skills like these...
   ...you don't _need_ steel.
   Behind it all, the War Chant tried to pound through the now-uptempo
electric fiddle duet.  I could barely make out a shouted conversation over
the radio net, the sponge commander yelling at his troops to get them to
shoot at anybody who wasn't in purple uniforms, despite the invaders being
neither police nor nasty Jihaddi.
   We closed with the team from the other side, sending a few clearing
shots around the corners before we took the intersection.
   James and I met in the middle.  We checked casualties on both our sides
and found thankfully no one dead, although a few had been hit.  A
mid-course rearrangement left the wounded in the intersection and replaced
them with a few of the team assigned to hold ground.    B'harnite teams up
the stairwell toward the front of the building were holding their own
ground and making an effort to wear them down.
   With our teams, James and I headed down the narrow hall to the Tower's
center.
   It was eerily quiet back here away from the action, although what with
the competing tunes of Hardiman and B'harnii and the gunfire down the hall,
I would have said it was quiet nowhere else.  The teams pressed against the
back wall as I put my hand over the stairwell door and unlocked it.  From
the side, I opened the door carefully...
   ...to be greeted with gunfire.  Naturally.
   The next move was to get Arthur to the door.  He produced a small metal
sphere about the size of a pinball.  I opened the door a crack and threw it
in.
   A few seconds passed.  Then a bang loud enough to drown out everything
rocked the building.  It wasn't an explosion, just a massive release of
sound.  The echoes continued up and down the enclosed stairwell for long
seconds.
   We had no time to lose.  Entering, I fired off a few shots at the
spongin guarding the bottom stair.  They, and the ones above, were
whimpering and clutching their ears, a few of which were bleeding, but I
had no desire to leave them conscious behind us.  We gained the first
flight and settled in for a fight.
   The second floor stairs were empty.  Behind us, our rear guard sealed
the doors as we went.  On the third floor we encountered another group
which we heard before we got there.  One fellow, almost gently, stroked the
"roof" below - the bottom of those stairs - until it glassed over.  We made
our way up through frozen statues of sponges.  On the sixth floor, someone
noticed that they were holding the (metal) handrail - a dose of high
voltage stopped them.
   So it went all the way up.  We snuck, we tricked, we observed and acted
from afar.  Finally, we made it to the top, where the stairwells joined in
a landing.  A sign said:

   Knicker Carillion / Roof Access
   Antenna Access
   Maintenance Personnel Only
   Observation Deck is Off Limits

   One person obtained the landing to open the door, while the others of us
stood ready.  He opened it a crack.
   It blew.
   I cursed myself for not ordering him to check for booby traps.  We knew
this wasn't familiar territory for their commander, but still, it was a
stupid oversight.  James cried out, and I felt for him, but we could not
afford mourning yet.
   I was the first through the door, choking in the smoke, staff sending
miniature tornadoes whirling left and right.  I planted the butt end on the
floor with a thud, standing it straight up, and the winds blew the smoke
either way down the alley the door opened onto.  As T.A.L.O.N. members
piled in behind me, I saw one figure run around the corner of the Carillion
foundation.
   "Hold," I said.  "He's not going to catch us the same way twice.
Proceed checking for traps.  He's not your first priority, either - find
the Element."
   "I wouldn't do that if I were you."  The voice came from all around us.
   I responded, "You got a reason we should listen to you?"
   "Plenty.  One of them is a rather large group of traps all around this
Tower top.  A second is me, since I can easily take out your group while it
searches - and the last reason is something I'll keep to myself right now.
So unless you wish to have your group divided, blown up and failing, I
suggest you leave."
   "Offhand, Mister, I'm sure you'll understand if we aren't so easily
dissuaded."
   "Of course.  You're TRES, unless I miss my guess.  Take all the time to
think about it you like.  It will give my troops time to make it up here,
since after all I /am/ able to break door wards, and I control the
elevators, too."  He paused a moment.  "You wouldn't happen to tell me how
you managed...  aah.  Probably an illusionary double the police flew off
with."
   I remained silent.  James looked at me.  "Will?"
   "Shhh.  I'm thinking."
   Thinking indeed.  *Kit?*
   *Yes?*
   *Contact the group.*  He quickly spread his awareness to connect
everyone.  *Everyone, listen.  Who's the sense specialist?*
   Came an answer, *I am.*
   *Can you detect any traps?*
   *Not within visual range of where we are now, even under high
magnification.  Smoke's so thick I can't smell chemicals, but it does rule
out lasers.  No ultrasound, sensitive constructs, nothing beeping.*
   *How about the Element?*
   *Only sound up here other than us, him, and the wind is a humming from
inside the Carillion.*
   Another voice spoke up.  *With all respect, sir, if you can locate that
guy to within a couple of inches I can boomerang a shot around the corner.*
   *Sure.  He's...* a sound-based image of a man breathing came from the
specialist.  The one who had spoken slipped out of the loop a moment,
creating the working.  He fired it off, and something streaked by us and
turned at 90 degrees.
   A nasty laugh followed.  "Like I didn't feel that coming a mile away.
Plenty of time to defend against it, certainly."
   *Sir,* said the senser, *The elevator's activated.*  In fact, all of us
could hear the machinery start up.
   "Ah, here they come now," said the hidden voice.
   I turned to the group.  *Half of you get down there and try to hold the
27th floor.  The rest of you get in the stairwell and hold the last flight
up to here.  Kit, get back to me.*
   They immediately protested.  *No buts,* I thought.  *There's nothing
more a group can do here that one can't.*
   *Two,* said James.
   *Very well.*  They filed out.
   The voice laughed again.  "What, leaving so soon?"
   "We'll be back," I said.
   Snicker.  "Take your time - but then, I suspect neither of us are in a
rush to see the other again."  Eventually, they had all gone but James and
myself.  I waited for the door to close with a decisive "click."
   Our foe turned the corner, smirking.  He had only a brief moment to
register surprise before I had plunged at him, staff whirling in from the
side to slam into his abdomen.  It knocked the wind out of him, but he
retreated and drew his blade.
   He was holding something in his left hand; what was it?
   He saw me looking.  "Oh, this?  This is a negative-feedback remote."
Indeed, the trigger was pressed.  "If I let go, your precious Life Sciences
Library downstairs will need a new collection.  I don't doubt it will be
rather destructive to the architectural face too."
   I slowed my attack, pressing him back now instead of trying to injure
him, coming in from as many sides as I could, rolling and twisting, to
stall and keep him off-balance while I thought.  I couldn't knock it out of
his hand... I couldn't knock him unconscious... what options did I have?  I
considered grappling for it, but at that range his blade was far more
lethal than my staff.
   Out of nowhere, James rounded the corner behind the force commander.
"Allow me."  He tossed a small, gray-black blob at the remote, where it
stuck.  "My own personal Crazy Glue."
   Astonished, the commander let go.  I winced and waited for the
explosion, but none came.  The remote hung from his thumb like a... a... I
don't know.  A remote hanging from a thumb it's just been glued to isn't a
common type of sight.
   I renewed the attack, expecting him to become more desperate.  Instead,
he only perfunctorily parried my blows, backing up so fast that in an
instant he was on the other side of James, blade to his throat.  Slippery
little snake.
   "This steel will cut through any defenses like butter, understand?"
James nodded.  "Good."  He turned to me.  "Here's the deal, Jihaddi.  The
Element's in the Carillion, and your men are trapped at the top of the
stairs."  Actually, I expected we could fight our way down with as few
casualties as we'd had on the way up.  "You get your Element, but I walk
out of here.  No Jihad, no cops."
   Well...
   "No way."  I advanced on him.  Kit, in a preplanned maneuver, surrounded
the man and exerted every possible ounce of control to keep his sword from
cutting James' throat.
   Unnecessary.  He hadn't been planning to do that anyway.  As the
distance between us closed, the man threw his sword at me.  When I dodged,
he jumped up to the ledge, dragging James along with him.  "Your friend
here has a neat little protection against falling.  Let's see if it works."
He threw James over, holding on tightly.
   I rushed to the ledge.  Below, the police in the East perimeter and on
the main plaza were assessing the aftermath of the failed attack; if any
had noticed the unusually slowly accelerating pair of men falling from the
Tower, no shouts had been raised - but this was getting very public for my
liking.  James and the man began to tussle as they sped up, James
attempting to kick himself away from the Wyrm-Minion.  The Minion gave him
a mighty blow to the neck, James' head lolled, and they landed hard but
safely, on the small plaza East of the Tower.
   He turned to me, ready to begin sorcerous battle.  Fool.  It would be
better for both of us if he'd run.  We both raised quick shields against
battle-type shots.  The police, had to have noticed, but were still working
over their own problems, and did not interfere yet.
   He was the first to launch a shot, a black line crackling with energy
coming from him straight toward me...
   ...and stopping - dispersing as it hit the Tower ward he himself had
erected.
   I dropped my own shields and turned inward.  Thanks to his own ward, I
could afford to channel my entire attention into a more powerful attack.
   My staff in my right hand crossed above my head with my blade on the
left.  I chanted in Hyper-Romanic, calling forth power from my duty as a
Jihaddi, my sorrow as commander of fallen, my anger as a combatant.  I wove
these into a red thread, an outline which wrapped itself around my words to
become what is.
   A point high, high above shined for the briefest of instants.  He looked
up -
   From out of the sky came vengeance on a rail.  A hammer of red streaked
with white slammed into him, and everyone observing heard a silent roar,
felt a motionless rumbling in the earth.  When it vanished, there was not
even a mark.
   The garish uniform and the man within it were gone.  The remote, mere
steel having not offended me, clinked to the ground, still glued closed.
   I didn't want to be seen after that.  I stepped away from the Deck.

TBC