The Ballad of St. Germain: Civil War II Chapter Eighty

Old Bailey didn't have enough time. As Picard and St. Germain began to marshal their troops, and as the vampire put together what he thought was a watertight plan, they attacked, and they attacked in numbers. The stormtroopers stormed London Below like a swarm of bees, cutting down everything in sight. Try as they might, the weapons of the London Resistance were nothing compared to those of the Imperials.

 

The old ship was soon in Earth orbit. Lestat began to operate the backward sensor systems.

"It shouldn't be difficult to locate Louie," he said. "From what I understand, there aren't many vampires on Earth now... Wait! I have him!"

"Where?" asked the Wolfman.

"In London... no... below London!"

"The Resistance must have got him," said Talbot. "Do you have the exact coordinates?"

"I'm feeding them into the transporter computer now. I'll beam down in a few minutes."

"I'm going with you," said the Wolfman.

"No," Lestat replied. "This is something I have to do alone."

"St. Germain is a vampire, which makes him a Monstron!" said the Wolfman. "I'm going with you!"

Lestat knew that by arguing with the High Wolfman he would be wasting valuable time. Reluctantly, he let the Wolfman go with him.

When they beamed down to Earth's surface, they had to find a place to hide straight away. They arrived not far away from the Old Bailey, and the place was swarming with stormtroopers and a dozen Imperial officers, Commander Sleer being among their number. Once they were out of sight, the Wolfman scanned the area with his tricorder.

"St. Germain is below!" he said. "And the Imperials are near him!"

"Then he is in danger," said Lestat. "We must help him!"

"You are insane, Lestat! The Imperials will capture us as well!"

"As you pointed out moments ago, Louie is one of us! He needs our help! We must assist him!"

Lestat looked out and saw several wounded stormtroopers coming out from below. Once the coast was clear, Lestat dragged the Wolfman down to the tunnels underneath London.

 

Word had got out around London Below of the Imperials' invasion, and reinforcements had arrived. Now it seemed that the stormtroopers were outnumbered, and with St. Germain's vast experience, the battle was going well for them. It seemed that for the first time in ages, Robert Picard was enjoying himself. Soon, he was falling back to converge with St. Germain.

"At last we're doing well!" he said above the noise.

"Don't count your chickens!" said St. Germain. "The battle isn't over yet!"

There was then a huge explosion as a huge wall came crashing down near them. Once the dust cleared, what they feared would happen did. Another horde of stormtroopers entered London Below, and once more, the resistance fighters were battling against the odds.

The battle was soon over. Soon, Picard and St. Germain were bound and forced onto their knees. Moments later, Commander Sleer entered, pleased at what he had done, even though he had taken no actual part in the proceedings. He walked over to where Picard and St. Germain were kneeling. He was pleased.

"We meet again, Admiral!" he said. "And I see you've found another friend! Perhaps by holding the brother of the legendary Jean-Luc Picard, we'll be able to bring the Enterprise and its crew out into the open!"

"Let them go!" said St. Germain. "Just take me! It's me you want, isn't it?"

Sleer took out his phaser and pressed it against St. Germain's head.

"You are correct in your assumption, Admiral! You have caused me a great deal of embarrassment over the past few days. Some have begun to question my worthiness for the post I now hold. Perhaps by eliminating you..."

"A phaser can't kill me!" said St. Germain.

"Want to find out if you're right?"

Sleer was about to press the button when something barged into him from behind, sending him and the phaser flying. Stunned, it took Sleer a few moments to get his senses back, but when he did, he looked up from his spot on the floor to see a tall man with blond hair in a ponytail, dressed in Monstron ambassadorial robes standing over him with a phaser—his phaser—pointed at him.

"Wh... who are you?" Sleer stuttered.

"My name is Lestat. Until recently, I was an Ambassador to the Monstron High Council. By coming here, I have changed all of that!"

Lestat was surprised when Sleer smiled at him. Then he realized why. Stormtroopers surrounded the vampire, blasters pointed at him from all directions. There was nothing he could do.

"Typical vampire!" said Sleer. "You all think you're invincible! Put him with the other!"

As Lestat was led away, Sleer took back his phaser and went back to St. Germain.

"A friend of yours?" Sleer asked. "It doesn't matter. He'll be joining you shortly, Admiral! Now, let's get this over with!"

"Tell me, Sleer, how did an idiot like you ever rise to the rank of commander?" asked St. Germain.

The rage began to burn inside Sleer. He had had enough. He was about to end it all when St. Germain broke free from his bonds and sent Sleer flying for the second time. This was the cue for Lestat, Picard, and the other captured resistance members. Once more, the battle began.

Sleer was at boiling point. St. Germain had embarrassed him too many times in the past few days, and he wanted revenge. He took his phaser and aimed it at St. Germain. He got a perfect sight as the vampire battled one of the stormtroopers.

Picard saw what was happening and also saw that St. Germain had no idea what was happening. With his back turned towards Sleer, Sleer fired his phaser. Picard jumped towards St. Germain and pushed the vampire out of the way. The phaser blast missed St. Germain but hit Picard. The Frenchman was vaporized instantly. He was dead.

Sleer cursed his luck. The vampire had been lucky once more. Once again he took aim at St. Germain, as the vampire was looking up at him.

And then they came. An explosion rocked the cavern, an explosion from above. St. Germain looked upward at the entrance the Imperials had used to storm London Below. The entrance was now much larger. It needed to be. More hordes were filling in, but these hordes were led by the High Wolfman and a man he did not recognize. The way this stranger was dressed made him look like he was a few hundred years out of his time.

St. Germain did not bother to count them. There were literally hundreds upon hundreds of them. He wondered if they all could be the inhabitants of London Below. Perhaps, perhaps not. It didn't matter. What did matter was that the Imperial forces were now vastly outnumbered, and there was no way they could get the reinforcements they needed to combat such a large force.

St. Germain was not the only one who knew this. Sleer did also. Activating his communicator, he was soon in touch with one of the orbital transporter stations. He may have been a coward, but he wasn't a fool. He knew he had lost this battle.