Counterpoint continues..

Damian Marshall, the last of his line after the tragic assassination of his parents and relatives at the dawn of a disaffected rebel uprising within his homeland near twenty years ago, has been left heir to one of the most powerful Families that fought and survived the Rising war. A time when his world claimed independence from the rule of a cold Imperium. Called to action in his homeland of Karapesh, a troubled redeveloping country of a world recently ravaged by the apocalyptic Rising war. The usually thuggish forces of the reactionary Karapeshi Rebels, have struck again, this time upon his Family’s humanitarian projects with unprecedented deadly force.

Realising he will need help, Damian contacts a long time family friend, the Ambassador, a supporter his Family's efforts. So begins an investigation into this sudden and uncharacteristic rise in violence of a long protracted counter-insurgency dispute. That is until the Rebels brandish unexpected weapons of war..

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Download in PDF Format : Counterpoint - Part One [1 - 13] (Second Edition 2010)

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Part Fourteen

Dutiful icons winked into existence, announcing the unknown arrivals as digital droplets of violet, each gliding down the curved screen that spread across the forward section of the hemispherical chamber. Ru’Che, the orbital Kor’O, observed these intently while his mind considered every nuance of information the stellar interlopers revealed to his sensors. The tau commander was nearly as tall as the Ambassador and equally as lean in appearance. Such attributes the most obvious genetic marker of his caste and role; the navigators, star farers and pilots of the Tau race. His life was genetically predisposed, a fact he bore no ill will, for his vocation was the very thing his being revelled in. Like all Air caste members who operated the station, his uniform was quite austere. A sleek segmented chest piece that protected most of his torso, overtop a grey skin suit that bore smooth carapace roundels upon the upper arms and hips, each in matching white of his torso armour. Behind him approached a shorter, stout figure in identical colours.

“Kor’O?” questioned Shas’El Jisu’ro as he arrived.
The thickly built tau officer stood nearby after crossing the parapet from the entrance. He wore the ubiquitous segmented combat armor of a firewarrior, bearing a few extra marks that befitted his rank, much like Elan’Jhin.
His focus upon the visions before him, the Kor'O did not turn about,
“We have unannounced traffic, and judging by their unique angle of approach.. hostile”
“The Drantakh?” the tau warrior stiffened.
“I would hope so, unless we have earned the ire of another faction this far out on the Fringe”

An expected chime bleated from a nearby por’vesa link drone, it politely approached the two officers just as a small holofield of Juan’Qoal appeared.
“Your Excellency,” the Kor’O bowed his head in deference to the image, “Unfortunately we are yet to re-establish a link with the Residence but the Southern operations base has remained untouched so far. I have tasked two fly overs to ascertain what’s going on in detail.”
“I suspect the Southern base is untouched due to our defences therein” offered Jisu’ro following Ru’che, “Until we hear from Elan’Jhin I have assumed command of his cadre, the reserve forces are already preparing for an urban assault drop.”
“My Aun” the Kor’O interjected, “we presently have an unidentified fleet bearing upon the station, a deep space observation satellite alerted us a mere raik’or ago”
The Ethereal blinked,
“It would seem the sudden attack upon Capital may be coordinated to this assault. Even still, I think they may have had their schedule brought forward due to the actions of Lord Marshall.”
“It is plausible. The fleet’s engagement trajectory is not exactly optimal. Personally I would initiate action by order of the fleet not ground forces. I think my counterpart has been forced into this attack” the station commander through opinion, agreed with the Aun’s thoughts.
“That.., could work in our favour” the Ambassador appealed to fate.

Interrupting their deliberation, the station Fio’El trotted into the command bridge, spying the discussion atop the command parapet, his trademark broad form hurried over with a rustle of engineering fatigues and utility apparel of similar tones to those of his fellows.
“My Aun” he bowed lightly to the image then nodded to the Kor’O whom had summoned him moments earlier. The doughty tau looked like an ancient desert raider with a Reela up his poncho,
“Your Excellency,” he immediately launched, “We have determined something about the power source in the Karapeshi mountains during the attacks, It’s a teleportation beam array”
The officers went quiet for the implications were profound.
“Like the Imperial Or’Es’Gue’la?” the Firewarrior offered up the first query, considered with his usual tactical bent.
“In some respects, but not as precise.”
The tau had held a healthy respect for the super soldiers of the Imperium and their abilities. They had since developed counter tactics but the Drantakh device was still a nasty surprise,
“The attacks on Capital were teleport strikes. Based on the few transmissions from the gue’la and Shas’El Jhin’s Link at the Residency before we lost contact, their descriptions seem to hold true”
“Go on..” the Aun encouraged.
“Well, being a multiple site incursion, my team gained a lot of insight into the device from observation alone. If we had not deployed the array network recently, we would have missed a great opportunity to-”
“The details Fio” reminded Jisu politely, guiding the fio back to a more useful point.
“Yes..” the tau engineer paused, “ah.. they hit four sites. Three in Capital and the Residence” he paused referring to notes on his wrist screen, “We are pretty certain the device cycles at.. twelve raik’or intervals with a transmission window of two. Each site was hit almost to the interval while we monitored the energy spikes. We’re unsure of the number of enemy that can be teleported until we get more information from the Capital Militia or Shas’El Elan’Jhin. They continue to beam in forces as we speak, so I am unsure if that means limited numbers or they are just bolstering their assault”
The Aun paused on that note then spoke up,
“I think I must bring Lord Marshall in on this conversation, we are currently setting to redeploy from the missile base. I will be a moment.”
“My Aun” the three tau officers chimed with small head bows as the holofield blinked out, but the drone remained.

Ru’che looked to his security leader, seeking the warrior’s tactical experience,
“Shas’El?”
“Considering the nature of the imminent assault, if the Drantakh have developed a true teleportation capability,” the Shas leader was still in thought, “I intend to set up my strong points at the Reactor, Command, Hangar concourse and the Armoury. It is where I would target my own boarding assaults”
He paused then looked at the Fio with a flash of insight,
“Tell me, why haven’t they tried from Karapesh?”
Rius’lan considered this, then nodded to himself,
“Interference.” he offered up then continued, “they have probably spent some time attuning the transmission to work within the characteristic of this world’s atmosphere. I’m theorising, but I suspect even still, projecting a transmission through the atmosphere into space to board an orbiting target, presents a technical hurdle”
“Could these be mounted on board a Drantakh assault frigate? one of the transports maybe?” the Shas’El continued a line of thought.

The Fio turned to a sweeping arc hand rail which rose up from the parapet floor seamlessly to offer a user an array of touch screens. Between them and the large wall display, concentric twin sensor trenches below the parapet housed the Air caste command staff and their embedded equipment. The operators sat snugly ensconced in crescent curved, high back seats while engaged in tasking response forces to the sudden violence erupting on the world below and assessing the incoming fleet.
“Left corner” Rius’lan announced to the others as he finished his database hunt.

A detailed plan of the Drantakh vessels they suspected would be coming their way, appeared in the uppermost corner of the sweeping main screen,
“These are the latest schematics we have ascertained after our last action against the Drantakh” he guided a pointer icon with his finger on an embedded touch screen before him.
“If I was to install a transmitter of the scale in Karapesh?” he offered a rhetorical question while reviewing the Frigate first, “This would be costly refit firepower wise. I would remove the second or rear dorsal batteries so their reactors could power transmission of a raiding party, maybe two. Cycle wise? I’m speaking from an efficiency standpoint Shas’El, but it wouldn’t be tactically viable in my opinion. Any Captain would rather weapons than the off chance opportunity to mount an inter-ship raid”
The Shas’El nodded in agreement while Rius’lan paused and turned back to the database, internalising an idea,
“I suspect the transports will mount these if they do”
He looked up to the new schematics he had displayed, then began to explain himself,
“It’s the range at which one would have to bring your vessel in, and through our deflector bands, that make it more an assault boat tool than a ship of the line”
“Close Quarters..” grunted the firewarrior.
“So, you believe at least one of these unknowns could be a teleport capable transport to plant raiders aboard?” Ru’che asked.
The Fio looked to the station commander squarely,
“I would believe so, as we have learned from the Imperials, they are the perfect device for establishing a breach point, for boarding teams to get aboard”
Jisu’ro evinced a slight discomfort, recalling debriefs on the results of such actions.
The Fio didn’t seem to notice,
“I could integrate our findings into Command targeting systems to monitor for emissions similar to those we have seen so far. At least we can pinpoint any equipped ships”
“Why can’t they just send over a explosive?” the Shas’El toyed with ideas of his own.
“Not sure, ..possibly the process would hamper the electronics of such a device, requiring a user to travel with it. Add one attacker, then you need someone to defend him as he arms it. Send two you may as well mount an assault to cover the planting of the device. The concept pretty much expands from there really. That said I suspect Elan’Jhin may have experienced such an attack”
Ru’che nodded slowly, then clearly agreed.

“Hurmm..” muttered Jisu’ro in thought, “twelve raik’or you say?”
“Yes, two raik’or window for an unknown number to board us”
“Best my teams can do is seven raik’or sweep through the main concourse should we need to hunt them from a fixed point”
“Then Shas’El, you have five to remove the threat before the next raid” the Kor’O wasn’t being amusing, he stated it bluntly so there was no mistake, “Jisu, whatever it takes, do not allow a breach”
“Kor’O.” the firewarrior nodded curtly, “I will see about our strong points and a form reserve la’rua for any such incursions.”
“Good, keep me informed” with a nod he dismissed the security leader then turned to the Fio.
“Ruis, see about preparing an evacuation of your people once we have a drop point, until then garner as much as you can before that time” the Fio nodded sharply then followed out after the Shas’el.
Before Ru’Che could return to his review of the incoming raiders, the drone bleated again.

---

Pausing for a moment, Jaun’Qoal took in the rapidity of events. The aggression with which the Drantakh expressed for the halo worlds of the Eastern Fringe had just been set a new precedent. However they had obtained, cajoled or perhaps more amazingly, invented these teleport systems, Jaun’Qoal had to ensure they did not succeed totally before support arrived.

Gathering himself, the Aun made his way down from the Orca’s tight command cockpit, through the bustle of tau reboarding the transport’s internal bay, then down the stern ramp way. His Honour Guard had remained ever alert outside, only the Shas’Ui turning to greet him as the remainder stood watch.
“Lord Marshall?” the Aun enquired quickly.
The warrior pointed out a group of gue’la flight crews that stood at the forest’s edge, their attention directed across the open field filled with VTOL craft idling in the cool silken morning mist of the Ranges. Bustling about those craft were more gue’la, assisted by his own warriors. Everyone busy in preparations to leave under a now grossly ill-informed plan.

“Ambassador?” Damian greeted the Aun, turning from his discussions with several flight crew.
Similarly to those about him, the human leader was dressed in slender carapace armor over top ballistic jumpsuits. The uniform suffused with Karapesh hues.
“Lord Marshall” the tau replied after a moment, “I have been in contact with our Orbital station to ascertain any news from Capital”
Those gathered listened more intently,
“I need your command to join me in your planning room and we will contact the station anew”
Damian almost hesitated to question, bemused at a lack of candour on part of the alien. Instead he motioned for the gathered lifter pilots to move onto their duties, then looked to Jaun’Qoal,
“Let me round up my people”

---

“My Aun” bowed the Kor’O as he greeted the renewed imagery before him.
Damian recognised the alien commander from briefings with the Tau when they held annual functions with local industrialists on the future of trade when their world was ready to develop interstellar commerce once again. For now, it would have to be through the orbital. He still found the commander’s grasp of Imperial Gothic, which exceeded that of the Ambassador, as one of the more disconcerting experiences when dealing with the Tau in more recent years while he grew to take over the Marshall Foundation.

The Ambassador had placed a bulbous tau holo-emitter at the centre of the plotter. Like a glossy black ball sitting atop a similarly coloured tubular ring, the rounded emitter projected the Kor’O to stand as a soft ghost among those within the planning room. The imaging ring dutifully recorded those about the table, relaying to high above, a full room of ghostly gue’la and a lone Ethereal to stand about a smaller retractable plinth atop the parapet of the Command centre on the orbital.
Looking to the projected Kor'O, the Ambassador began,
“Do you have anything further on the actions in Capital since we last spoke Kor’O?”
“Our first fly over of sites in Capital will be occurring in the next six raik’or”
The tau realised his mistake,
“My apologies Lord,” he bowed lightly, “..roughly the next ten minutes, terran time”
Damian acknowledged the courtesy with a nod as the Ambassador continued the briefing,
“We have reason to believe the Drantakh have been using teleportation technology for the incursions within Capital”
“Teleportation?” Damian couldn’t contain his surprise. He knew of the technology, it was exceptionally rare, and as such had never been witness to its use.
“Yes, though it is limited thankfully” the Ambassador admitted.
“They can transmit an unknown number of personnel and materiel for around five minutes, but the array seems to require a cool down, or recharge, of about twenty minutes. The sequence of attacks in the early hours gave our technical team much insight.”
Having covered the essentials, Jaun’Qoal suggested the station commander to continue,
“We do know that the first assault has consisted of Naghyri Raiders, they’re a mercenary faction, quite fanatical in their adherence to Drantakh policies. We suspect the Drantakh have warped the Naghyri religious fervour to create one of the most maniacal shock troops we have encountered. Regardless of motivations, they have definitely done their work and I can only surmise the Drantakh themselves will be in the next assault. Which brings us too the latest development, a point which the Ambassador and I were discussing when we realised your attendance would be required” Ru'Che deferred to the Ambassador.
“The Commander has detected a flotilla of vessels inbound for this world in a manner which implies an assault”
The comment stirred everyone into a myriad of side commentary,
“Time?” Damian asked, motioning for silence.
“We have little over twelve hours before engagement”

Damian considered the galling news and realised their current deployment was indeed flawed against this new threat,
“You need to secure your people Ambassador, I suspect the Drantakh know of my original intentions, but I would be mightily surprised if they knew my location”
Damian deliberated internally,
“This facility is at your disposal to provide a secure operations base for now, relocate your forces here, even evacuated personnel from the station.”
“My thanks” Jaun’Qoal acknowledged.
Damian nodded then continued,
“I will proceed to Karapesh as planned, but I would like some of your recon units in support so we can infiltrate the surrounds of those two main cavern bases”
The Ambassador took a moment to relay an order,
“You will have a team of six at your disposal and a liaison officer join you”
“Good, they owe us for the headaches” the remark eased some of the tension in the room.

Ru’che, on realising an overall plan was forming spoke up,
“I’ll begin an evacuation of our non-combat personnel to the joint operations base immediately, this will include as much munitions and Armoury supplies as we can lift”
“You suspect the loss of the station Commander?” Damian asked flatly.
“We have a plan in action to ensure we do not make it an easy prize for the Drantakh Lord Marshall, but your offer of a new base gives me an opportunity to commit to evacuation drops immediately and lock down a majority of our Orbital”
“Good, you’ll find a-“
“Yes, the field south of your facility would be our drop point”
Damian smirked at the tau, momentarily forgetting the alien already had a good knowledge of this once secret hideaway,
“Right, ..we had best clear ourselves out of here,” Damian looked to his Master at Arms, “Elliot, help our guests acquaint themselves, I’d like yourself and our support staff to remain.”
“Sir. Also, I am still unable to contact Militia Command, is the Kor’O able to relay a message?”
“I am sorry, but we too have been unable to contact any Militia or government facility in Capital since the attacks. We are receiving four beacon signals however from each major Militia site” the Kor’O replied just as frustrated.
The gue’la all exchanged dark glances.
“That means Ambassador, we’re the only viable forces left” Damian summarised, “What do you intend to do Ambassador?”
“I will remain here, we will try to relieve Capital forces then support your raid in the south” the tau replied.
“Good, I’m intending to strike the Imperialists base immediately, redeployment enmasse just got taken off the list, that teleport device needs to be destroyed”
“Agreed.”
The tau rifled through his robes quickly then offered a thick cufflink sized disc to the Damian,
“A communication device, it will keep you in contact directly to myself and Kor’O Ru’Che. We can update you as we find out more regarding the transmission base”
Damian took the disc and affixed it inside the protective neck ring of his chest armor. He was about to say something when the Kor’O interjected,
“My Aun, we have detailed imagery from the flyover”
Those attending paused and looked to the plotter as Jaun’Qoal operated his crystal device once again to accept the imagery feed.

The Ambassadorial residence was a smoking ruin, besieged from all directions. Within remained a small knot of defenders, their tight perimeter illuminated by a ring of defensive fire, fighting to keep an eruption of randomly appearing attackers at bay.
“Kor’O”
“My Aun?”
“Redirect your first Combat drop in support of Shas’El Elan’Jhin then the Government block, a secondary deployment shall link up to Militia Command. Have Shas’El Jisu’Ro order the abandonment of the Southern base, I imagine it will soon be dealt with by the fleet from orbit. Send the combat units into Capital at his discretion, the support elements directly here.”
The Kor’O could be seen to agree as the Ambassador looked up to Damian from the plotter,
“Best prepare your departure Lord Marshall..”
The two leaders looked to each other knowingly for a moment. Damian nodded slightly, then motioned for his officers to follow him.



----

Part Fifteen

Rubbing a gloved hand down his face, Elan’Jhin smeared blood from the cut to his nasal fold. Waking from his stupor, he realised his helmet was discarded nearby with a jagged piece of shrapnel embedded through the optics, a testament to just how close he had come to being speared through the faceplate during the explosion. The residence and compound was now, just a smouldering ruin. He hoped a majority of the embassy staff had gotten deep enough inside the bunker below to survive that blast. Elan'Jhin looked at everyon inside the makeshift barricade set up to protect their unconscious Shas’El until help arrived. Only eight of his original thirty six.
“Southern wall, breach!” one of them warned.
The tau and their crippled, one carbine kor’vesa, poured fire into the Naghyri as the aliens attempted to regain a foothold inside the remains of the Residence compound. A couple of the intruders went down, the rest quit the attempt and resumed sniping the tau position.

The Shas’El had been in a few desperate actions, but none quite like this he considered, while taking a moment to shake off his growing nausea. The wound, though seemingly minor, affected tau senses quite badly without treatment in the near term.
“How long have the Naghyri been back?” he finally spoke, causing a couple of the warriors to flinch.
“This is the second attempt Shas’El,” one of the firewarriors answered him.
Elan’Jhin studied her smeared and rent armor for markings but found nothing readily visible. However it was the bulbous drone controller on the side of power pack, the only one in their current deployment, which made him realise it was Shas'Ui Kuna’Ro. He gave a quick glance about the rubble defences and noted the other two were not present,
“We fought off the first wave but Ui’Shan and Ui’Che’Va fell while trying to hold the perimeter. We’ve been here since this new assault appeared Shas’El”
She had picked up on his head count quite quickly.
“How long between waves?”
“Ten or Twelve raik’or. It was Ui’Shan who figured the initial count but since..” she paused, “well, my guess is more will be here in about four raik’or. The one positive Shas’El, is they don’t seem to teleport within the compound, probably due too the rubble”
A sure sign they knew the layout of the residence well enough before Elan’Jhin considered,
“Any word from below?”
“None” she answered flatly.
Seven warriors, a crippled drone, no comm-control and an imminent assault, it would make one of the more insidious academy scenarios.

Forcing himself up against a destroyed drone shell, he watched several fleeting figures beyond another breach. He rubbed his face again, grunting at his increasing stupor. A burst of spike fire forced him to roll back behind the defences with a curse and lose grip of his carbine.
“Shas’El..”
Ui'Kuna’Ro offered the weapon back to him with a sharp nod.
Just then a pair of aircraft soared overhead. He lay back looking up and spied the fast silhouettes of two Barracudas, delta wing shapes bearing that characteristic blunt nose, both executing a text book fly over. At least Ru’Che had an eye on them.
“They know we’re in the fire” Elan’Jihn commented, more to himself than the others. But each saw the tau flyers well enough.
“Incoming, full breach!” barked Kuna'Ro, raising her carbine and opening fire.
Elan’Jhin rolled over, aiming his own carbine anew and sighted a leading attacker amidst blossoms of teleportation energy, the figure was close enough already for his blurred vision to make out. Drantakh!

The aliens loped into the grounds over the shattered wall, assault weapons leading the way as they returned fire. The Drantakh were bipedal, legs jointed much like a tau, bearing equine heads with large bulbous eyes, set slightly to the sides of the skull. The trademark splayed cranium swept from their temples, covered by fitted helms. The shape of which followed this natural sweep, as if to exaggerate the physical feature further. Delicately clawed hands with three digits and an opposing fourth, held their weapons at the ready. The exposed feet were similar, but stout and well padded. Each wore combat fatigues covered by shoulder, torso and thigh plate armor. Where one could see their skin, it was gnarled and a mottled brown grey. As far as soldiers go, they were well equipped and very professional. This particular troop’s carapace was black with their fatigues curiously, an Imperialist crimson. Shortly after appraising the aliens, Elan Jhin shot the lead figure with his first burst.

The alien squad surged forwards in response, heavy calibre spike rifles stitching the defences about the tau. The first charge reached their makeshift fortification, figures leaping in amongst the defenders. Elan’Jhin fired point blank, his burst parting the legs from his attacker. The drone suddenly vaulted forwards, pulse carbine blazing, impacting into a mob of Drantakh and drove them over the lip of the barricade, never to return. The other shas’la fought savagely, screams and shouts mixed with strobing pulse fire and the metallic thud of spike rifles. Elan’Jhin spat to clear his lips of a rivulet of blood from his cut. Suddenly he felt someone back to back with him, it was Kuna’Ro shoving a energy cartridge into his hand,
“Recharge!” she admonished him.
Like a saal chastised, he ejected and slammed the cartridge in, firing into a brace of Drantakh as they leapt over another part of the barricade. It was then, as the aliens fell away, that Elan’Jhin saw it.

Low, slicing over the tall buildings, a solitary Barracuda flew so swift and deadly, sound seemed to ignore it’s approach. The interceptor bore down on the shattered compound, lower now through the rows of buildings, along the street in a brazen disregard for altitude.
“Down! Down!” the Shas’El yelled to whoever still lived. Grabbing Ui’Ro’s shoulder, he twisted her off her hooves and they fell amidst the dead.
An Ion Cannon chuffed like a beast clearing it’s throat, the rubble amidst the Drantakh assault line became lethal founts of charged earth. The craft’s wing mounted drones engaged with their burst cannon, growling through alien figures, stitching, hunting and killing. They spun round in the mere instant they had as the Barracuda flicked overhead, and fired a parting gift to many others.

Then the sonic wave cheated for so long, clapped over the ruin of it all, sweeping sound, detritus and ragged bodies into one single indescribable concussive moment of chaos. Sated, the Barracuda arced away through an open parkland sky, engines rumbling a harsh, receding, but victorious howl.

Elan’Jhin felt it all, and the rumble of departure revibrated deep in his chest. His punished form prostrate to the fury he had just lived through.
He rolled off Kuna’Ro, onto his back, somewhat elevated by his power pack, in time to see the perpetrator of his inglorious salvation meet up with its partner and depart.
Everything about him seemed to heave a final sigh, and go silent.
Next to him Kuna’Ro propped herself up, switching a cartridge from her pack charger, her helm turning to regard him,
“One raik’or..” she began her count anew.


---

Part Sixteen

Observing the traces of tau units flitting across one of the larger wall displays within the Orbital’s command chamber, Jisu’ro paid particular attention to those about Estaria and Capital, admiring how quickly the cadre reformed within a few raik’or of the attacks occurring. Yet, he expected no less. The tau had learned long ago, a Diplomatic mission without a response to hostile overtures, would invariably fail. So it came as little surprise the Ceremonial cadres involved were often filled with some of the best warriors in the Empire. They were honed fighters who were prepared for sudden action, becoming enured to the draining effect of apprehension during political tensions and ready for sacrifice if needs be. Out here, near several fluid border zones, cadres such as these were some of the most elite he could ever hope to command. As much as Jisu’Ro felt his gut tighten with every raik’an that passed and their battle here drew closer, he felt his pride bare it’s fangs and dare the Drantakh to try their best.

“Shas’El”
His reverie broken, Jisu’Ro turned about, then looked up to meet Ru’Che's gaze.
Uncharacteristically the tall Kor commander was amidst the operation trenches at the foot of the terrace.
“Kor’O?”
“A word aside if you please” he replied quietly.
The two drew away, nearer the entrance. It was the Kor officer who spoke first,
“How goes the redeployment?”
“Well.. very well in fact. My best hope is we cause the Drantakh some concern when they discover our planet side assets are no longer where they belong. Lord Marshall’s offer has been a boon strategically. I’ve also been able to seal a majority of the orbital with so few personnel aboard, it’s almost halved every aspect of my security effort”
Ru’Che seemed pleased, yet he glanced at the displayed approach of the Drantakh flotilla unconsciously,
“Our response in Capital?” he questioned anew.
“Only a few moments away, I’ll have to return to the operations suite in a raik’or”
“Of course, though I need you to assign a task to one of your shas’vre”
The Shas’El shuffled on the spot expectantly.
“Organise several of your best controllers and reinforce the hand over planet side”
“I have organised a suitable team already, if they haven’t gone with the lastest Orca, they will do so within next few raik’or”
Suddenly Jisu’Ro realised what the Kor’O was implying,
“You’re not confident we can hold them here long enough are you?”
“No” the Kor leader’s lean face became more gaunt, “I’ve been running simulations since our last contact with his Excellency, this will be a battle fought and ended on the ground. It will take them too many rotaa to wipe out the surveillance network to really cripple the defense effort before help arrives. This Orbital is really nothing but a token warning sign against this level of aggression”
“How long do you believe you can occupy them?”
“They’re expecting something easy for our tonnage, but we can hit above our weight and that should cause them some initial pause. Our fire solutions are from an established orbit, so the initial exchanges will benefit us further, after that? Less than a rotaa, possibly half that if they produce something new.”
The pair exchanged like-minded glances about dirty surprises of late.

The Shas’El drew a tight face, looked over the busy command area then back,
“Shall I send down my security teams and set up an automated defence network here?”
“Yes, I think it would be the wiser option and it will include you. Aun Jaun’Qoal will need your warriors in supporting Lord Marshall”
Jisu’Ro compressed a bit. He saw the reasoning, with Elan’Jhin missing; he was the unilateral cadre commander. Losing both the Kor’O and himself was simply not acceptable.
“Understood” he affirmed, then Jisu'Ro's lips went taut with warning, “You get off this glorified satellite the moment they breach Ru’Che”
His lanky friend gave a Tau smile,
“You have my word”
The warrior grunted, half convinced, then shrugged,
“I’ll organise the new transfers with your handlers, then setup the vesa network with Rius’lan’s help” he paused with a smirk, “then put his broad posterior on the next Orca out too”
“A commendable plan” the Kor’O showed a measure of mirth in spite of his mood.
Jisu’Ro nodded in deference to Ru’Che, then moved off to oversee the first counter-attack he had planned for the Capital interlopers.


----


Stepping into the base level of the VTOL storage chamber, one experienced a slight inverse vertigo coming out of the confined passages within the bunker. Regardless, Damian looked up into the half lit darkness of the modified missile silo. Twelve platter levels stacked along the length of the cavernous central tube, which had held a single, gargantuan anti-ship missile. The very warhead launched by his own grandfather so many decades ago. All along it’s usually cathedral quiet heights, a dozen aero techs busied themselves, lowering charge carts and munition trolleys upon elevators attached to any one of a dozen enormous support pylons that ran the length of the silo. These elevators had been installed alongside the modified platter levels when his family first conceived of it’s potential as storage for a covert VTOL wing. The upper four were spacious enough for all the VTOLs present and a couple more to find a spot to land without being a perilous manoeuvre when unloaded. The lower levels were set up as workshops and stores for pretty much everything they required, both the guard troops and the flyers. Since this morning most of the VTOL’s had prepped then left, hovering to the centre then up and out through the spilt hemisphere blast doors. The results of which over the last couple of days had left a garden’s worth of flora and rubble on the silo floor. With every Versa departed to the field south of the forest, and their escorts, the techs now focussed their efforts on awaking the last of the stored flight of Vector fighters, which until that morning had been sheathed under tarps.

“You’ve been holding out on me”
He turned about to see Kali swagger over, her eyes skyward, tracing lustful lines over the military grade fighters several platters above. She wore the Karapeshi style flightsuit, with all bushland hues like his own. It was unlike the more fetching version she wore the day before, yet in spite of the androgynous effect one observed with military apparel, the suit still lost out against her physique,
“Spoils of war Miss Rashiede” he smiled smugly.
“Helps when family friends scored the contracts hey?”
“That and we had the tau over for lunch before anyone else”
“Ah yes, the General and the Ambassador. Learnt about that in preparatory school”
Damian grinned, then looked upwards also,
“I’ve got Mitchum and his brother running cover for the Versas with Kyle and ‘Bells when they head out, that leaves two Vexes”
“Who’s got those two?”
“You and Me”
“Oh Mister Marshall, you do know how to please”
He gave Kali a wink,
“Preflight those two would you? I’ve got to ensure our tau friends are ready”
“Sure” she chirped back, heading towards the closest elevator.

Damian watched her go, while toying with the communicator disc inside his neck ring. He came to a realisation, stopping to merely utter the Ambassador’s name.
“Lord Marshall?”
“Ambassador, good.. figured this out thankfully”
“Excellent, you’re asking about the recon team?”
“Yes and the liaison”
“They are ready when you are, just ask for Por’Vre Eylo through the communicator, it will do the rest.”
“Thanks, the Regiment will be lifting out in the next ten minutes. I’m just waiting on my Master at Arms to confirm”
“Not too much longer I hope, the first of Kor’O Ru’Che’s people will be arriving”
Damian half heard the overly pedantic concern, as he watched Kali give a big grin and double hand sign of joy as she worked about the first Vector,
“I’ll be escorting the recon transport with a second Vector to scout out to the first layover point on our way into Karapesh. Might as well use the speed”
“Indeed. Well, good luck Damian. Keep me appraised when you are able”
Jaun’Qoal was quite informal when he spoke, his concern obvious.
“I will Ambassador” he replied warmly.

Seeing Elliot approach, Damian pushed his concerns back down as they welled up again. Was he really just living out some crazy sense of Family pride? Cheating those loyal to him of their lives in a foolhardy raid? He began twisting inside suddenly, trying to mask it in front of Elliot.
“We’re ready” the Master at Arms reported smartly.
“Good, thanks for organising the lift. I’ve spoken with the crews about the first layover” Damian replied with an almost perfunctory tone as his mind began to race.
Elliot gave a dry smile, then added,
“Everyone got their mission packet. Also I made Five and Six carry the hot chargers aboard so make sure they get there. That should insure this isn't a one way trip. ”
Damian nodded, then after a silence between them, regarded the older man carefully, a precursor to asking something more personal.

Elliot’s father, Ferra, had been a young lieutenant under Gideon Marshall during the raid that took this bunker, and consequently one of only a couple dozen survivors. Elliot had been in his twenties, studying abroad on a Marshall scholarship, when the Family massacre occurred. They had both lost their fathers on the same night. It wasn’t long after that Elliot reprised Ferra’s position as Household Master at Arms, so it seemed fitting to ask the thoughts of such a man on a day like this.
Damian finally spoke,
“Did Ferra ever say anything about the raid, here I mean?”
Elliot went quiet, then looked up assured of an answer,
“He spoke of a few things for certain, his own concerns and fears beforehand," he noticed the younger man shift slightly at that, but continued, "but one there was one thing I figure worthwhile for a son of Gideon to hear.”
Damian raised an eyebrow; a little surprised the man seemingly had a prepared response. His receptive silence encouraged Elliot to answer,
“Step forward with me today and no one will step back tomorrow.”
"Your father said that?"
"No, your grandfather did, just before the attack."
Damian went quiet, fending off that gnawing concern he was taking a similar step for the wrong reasons.
"My Lord, we have to do something, and if this is our only chance in a time running out of opportunities to stop this invasion, I assure you" he looked at the Damian carefully, "everyone here is willing to trade their own future so others can get even the slimmest chance tomorrow"
They looked at each other for a time, then Elliot deftly excused himself; he had said all that needed to be said.
Damian stood quietly, watching a link to his past leave. It is a desperate plan, but knowing what needed to be done provided a clarity of purpose, that despite every rational concern, such a gamble must be made for their future. Deeds be done or done unto you, he mused.

“Hey! Daydreamer!” Kali shouted from above.
Damian snapped out of his introspection, looking upward at her. He acknowledged with a wave then moved toward the nearest elevator, punching in the platter number. When he alighted, Damian found Kali eyeing him over,
“You okay?”
“Mmm.. just thinking" he paused, "..something my grandfather once said” he added quietly.
She regarded him a moment then offered up his visor brace,
"Karapesh needs a Marshall back" she jested.
Damian smiled briefly, taking up the band. Her remark tolling loudly in his ears for every Marshall but him, was buried in the red earth of Karapesh, as if it drew colour from his line. There was no more a fitting place for him to lay down he considered. If he provided this world, with a chance. Maybe then this blood debt would be met?
He looked across to Kali settling into her cockpit like himself, she caught his glance before he turned away.
"Let's go home" she smiled.

----

Part Seventeen


Dranta
Fleet Operations Orbital
Court of High-Tiers
One year, Two Months & Six days before the Odysseus Offensive [Terran Time]


Satchel held close against her flank, the aide darted through another security detail patrolling the outer corridor of the Orbital's Flag deck. At an unfamiliar junction, she found herself checking the direction monitor. Spying the answer, she darted right. Coming about the corner of that corridor, she was suddenly confronted by a Naval Heavy Assault Troop. Her own dark grey uniform, decorated with slender dress plates, looked insipid next to the armored brawn of the Drantakh before her.
“Identify yourself’ chuffed the troop leader.
“Eighth-Lariss of Division for Commander Kierkook, Third Tier Fleet Op” She shoved out a disc.
The trooper manipulated it through a swipe scan plate, then waited.
“I am in a hurry” she encouraged sharply.
The entire troop bristled.

After a few moments, the scanner gave a tone and the troop leader offered her ID disc back,
“You may pass Eighth” the intentional dropping of her name, a calculated slight.
Few troopers liked non-combat tier climbers. Even more so those that out ranked them.
She eye balled the leader then dropped her gaze upon his shoulder plate glyph. Making sure he noticed her remember his name.
“Thank you”
She pushed past the dozen troopers before they could even give way, then stepped through the ornate bulkhead behind, and into the Court auditorium beyond.


----


“..within the last four,” the Third-Commander paused as his aide slipped a satchel onto his desk when she arrived, “..years, we have catalogued no further notable naval activity since”
Those gathered considered the implication of the intelligence among their own staff. Each of the Drantakh High-Tier officers, seated behind individual crescent desks which rose from the floor of the Court auditorium, were clearly pleased at the news.
“This is everything?” Third-Kierkook queried his aide in aside.
She tilted her head to one side, in the affirmative, from her seat behind him. The female was still slightly flushed by her impromptu summons, but she had delivered everything in good time.
“Excellent” he added.
Lariss looked at Third-Kierkook, quietly triumphant. That was about as much thanks as she and her unit would get. How this Drantakh had obtained the archeotech in the first place was still a mystery to her. Regardless, they had studied it relentlessly and now, after many trials, it was ready for operational use. Though many leagues lesser than the construct they had used as a guide.
The Third-Commander turned back to the Court and continued his briefing greatly buoyed by this success,
“Furthermore, my Division people have confirmed completion of the Far-Leap project”
Those gathered went quiet at the announcement. The dropping of that project name abruptly ended all discussions. It was without doubt, the most secretive program Fleet Division had undertaken in recent times. All that had ever made it to the rumour mill was the name and that strategically, it was a game changer for the Drantakh military.

“This is exceptional news Third-Kierkook”
Ultima-Etihad drew in a slow breath, his aged form leaning heavily on his broad desk, weighed down by ornate plating and embellished undergarments of Office. He was situated at one head of the ovoid configuration of desks. Opposite this position were the Weapons of the Ultima, which lay atop the Plinth of Office. A dais that every auditorium was furnished with should the Ultima chair a meeting within any about the Drantakh realm.
“Exceptional indeed..”
The Ultima lulled his head from side to side in satisfaction. His cranial sheath-crown, splayed broadly behind his brow, caused a glowing nimbus about his equine head in the downward lighting of the Court auditorium. Aged eyes regarded the Commander for a moment more,
“Based upon all you have told us so far and the finalisation of this Far-Leap, you have kept so very close to yourself, you wish to propose action upon Odysseus?”
The Great leader used the human Imperial Gothic name, so there was no mistake as to who once owned that sphere before, almost like invoking some dire stellar ghost of legend.
Everyone was quiet as the Third-Commander answered,
“With the Tau seemingly satisfied it is safe, I do believe now is the time to erode their grip on that world, it’s position on our frontier and obvious benefits to our Gulf trade, mark it as one of five we should attempt. I personally feel it is the best of our options”
He glanced at the rotund Third-Jorvun, an ally of his within the Fleet court. The final member of their trio was on deployment, which Keirkook hoped to capitalise on during this Operations court for his own gains. Jorvun rolled forward under his mass of outwardly spread plate armor to add his orchestrated piece,
“I would agree with my fellow Third-Commander. We have endured the Tau politically only to have them manoeuvre against our expansion four times, actively hindering our attempts of expansion in the Gulf region. This has resulted in no small loss of troops and materiale. We should take this world they seem intent on, and do so with force. A rightful demonstration to remind them of which border it truly lies behind and that we shall broker no more when challenged.”

Quite a speech of support, Kierkook considered, possibly a little theatrical for his liking but still, the remaining Tiered command seemed halfway convinced by it. They had been embarrassed one to many times by the Tau Empire and now with the Far-Leap project operational; he may just have his chance to lead a prized Fleet commission. Normally some of his main rivals would voice their concerns and generally try and shove a carcass down his burrow, but now after so many setbacks, no one was in the mood for further surreptitious methods, well.. maybe not as complex a subterfuge as before. It was high time they punched the Tau square in their flat, featureless faces.
He and Jorvun let their combined recipe simmer in the court a few moments longer,
“I would be correct to assume my fellows of the Tier and his Greatness, are of similar mind to mine?” Kierkook opened the discussion anew.
The room was quiet except for the omnipresent hum of the orbital. The Ultima looked about slowly for dissent. Normally he would end by conferring with the duo of Second-Commanders. But both had consecutively perished in recent, Tau incurred, setbacks. Their desks were politely prepared, but empty. Without this ritual pause in the proceedings, Ultima-Etihad instead finished his obligatory perusal upon Third-Commander Kierkook,
“Your assumption finds common ground upon your Tier, Third-Commander”
Kierkook tilted his head low, then looked up,
“In such case, I took the initiative in preparing an operational outline for the taking of Odysseus based upon the initial intelligence gathered”
He drew a file from his own satchel and retrieved a disc within. Slotting the data record into a purpose made recess within his desk. Quietly the inbuilt imaging unit projected a hologram that filled the centre of the room.

Characters and images floated about for all too see while the already low lights dimmed further. Amidst the visuals sat a lonely orb, the planet of Odysseus.
“Among several border systems, we have long had low profile mercenary infiltration cells actively recruiting potential on world assets. After careful insertion of human operatives some time ago, we have greatly progressed this world’s covert programs”
He played with a touch pad on his desk to alter several details,
“We have good relations with two factions on this planet. The Karapeshi Rebellion and remnants of Imperial units once stationed there. Naturally we have exploited these with offers of munitions, sub-par arms and false covers explaining our operatives’ presence. This has been successful enough to ensure a front that would mask any large insertion at a time of our choosing should this foothold be expanded upon..”
He paused to allow the Ultima to condone the action. There was a slow, purposeful and positive side tilt of that glowing nimbus,
“Explain to us your plan, Second-Commander”
The commission was his.

Forcing down his rush of pride, he casually drew closer the satchel Eighth-Lariss had provided earlier, and slid out a prepared research file with accompanying disc,
“Allow me to explain what Far-Leap has to offer”.


----

Part Eighteen


Drantakh Assault Flotilla
Present Day

The closer the engagement window approached, the more the crew became quiet at their stations, insuring the background hum of electronics and the ship itself grew ever louder. The triangular icons that marked their flotilla, descending methodically down the display before Third-Jorvun and his attendant Fifth's, gradually approached a lone orbital that danced atop the world below. Everyone chanced a look to see the progress, but largely kept to their consoles, ensuring the assault ran true.
“Anything?” Third-Jorvun queried.
“Nothing Third-Commander” offered the Sensor-Fifth from his unit’s device packed corner.
So far, so good Jorvun decided. Since Second-Kierkook had entrusted the assault flotilla to him, as repayment for his support and an opportunity to gain prestige in the eyes of his Tiered fellows. He played this as cautiously as he could, for really all that stood in their way and a complete invasion of Odysseus, was a single Tau Orbital platform.
“Relay signal; Inform Fourth-Lokar he is breaking pattern, have him correct two degrees”
The operator transmitted the order swiftly.
Soon enough, the offending Frigate realigned within the polar charge. The plan was demanding, with an angle of assault that required operational coordination beyond that of most ships of the Dranta line. For now, Third-Jorvun’s command Frigate was the eyes of the attack. Like wars of old, he lead the charge.
About the rectangular Command centre, some the most advanced Dranta technologies had been crammed in, leaving little space for the operators or the decision makers. Different sections of the infested walls were monitored by crash-chair seated operators, while the Tiered officers stood about a central command display and broad plotter bench. Everyone wore the slim grey armor plates and fatigues of Fleet, now bathed in hue altering battle-alert lights.
“Engagement line imminent” reported the navigation Fifth.
Third-Jorvun felt his broad gut tingle, for once across, they were committed to suffer fire, even if they withdrew.

He was for some part, still angry. Their part had been rushed. The whisper-signal had come over two days early, not allowing the Third to engage via a more optimum, and faster trajectory. All counter to the operational outlines Second-Kierkook had crafted with his impressive Division Unit. Something very serious had forced the hand of their Mission assets on Odysseus, if otherwise, there would be equally serious repercussions regardless of victory. The Heavy Assault carriers welcomed it however, their Troop complements were getting overly restless during the wait and his Assault Frigates could only run so many simulations before fraying the nerve of their crew. Notwithstanding, the additional risk of discovery with each passing day, no matter how good their energy signature discipline was.
“We are engaged” commented the Navigation-Fifth.
The Drantakh officer gave Third-Jorvun a wary glance.
“Note it in the log,” he replied to the Fifth's gaze, then turned about to the plotter.
His tactical officers mirrored him,
“Needle-beam the flotilla, form the assault line along the preset distances”
“Sending”
“Weapons-Fifth, range”
“We’re one hour out of our own engagement window Third-Commander”
Jorvun chewed slowly, he loathed diving down the throat of the beast and having to endure their fangs first. This all could have been avoided,
“Tell the transports to hold off cycling the transmitters until my order”
“Sending”
“Third-Commander?” Jorvun’s tactical advisor, Locar, gave him a quizzical look at the order.
“Fifth-Locar, this is the Tau. If you transmitted a love note to Dranta recently, I would wager you a week’s roster some gill-face would read it before she did,” he looked down at the dome topped spindle icon before them and considered the occupant's therein aloud, ”they would know something was up if two of our line suddenly emitted off the scale reactor readings. Their devilishly perceptive arrays are not to be underestimated”
He mulled further to himself, there was also possibility the tau already knew, given the actions occurring planet side. Surprises were fleeting in a technically advanced war. They could be playing coy right now, waiting for him to flourish his hand, only for it to be removed at the wrist.

“Warp-Skaters!"
Third-Jorvun looked sharply to the display over his shoulder, this far out? Intermittent echoes flickered; leaving residual icons that coalesced ever closer to the flotilla. The Drantakh had experience with these accursed warp-skein surfing capital missiles. The ship-killers flitted in out of realspace to gain unheard of velocities by way of small micro-dives, becoming a nightmare for ECM to combat at range as their trajectories changed randomly.
"Eight, no.. Eleven inbound! We've been targeted!”
“We hold the formation, no one break-“
An almighty shudder reverberated through the hull, a near miss.
“Second salvo inbound, fleet ECM reads another eleven”
The first wave had informed solutions to the second, the third wave would be even nastier and so on. Weapons of the Tau, they had such novel ways to reach out and kill you.
“Third-Jorvun, we must release the batteries” urged Fifth-Locar, finishing out the thoughts of the electronic warfare operators.
Jorvun chuffed his annoyance; he had wanted to keep the point defence magazines and capacitors at full cycle, ready to close with the Orbital. Running their reactors now only chanced failure early in the engagement. It was those last few thousand that were murderous if you didn’t mount thorough grid fire. That said, having a ‘Skater materialise in your hull was a decidedly terminal event and the chances were running higher after coming under fire this far out,
“Batteries; Counter-fire free” he agreed with some frustration.
“Counter-Fire!”

Far above the world's polar sky, a halo of balefire and violent iridescence glittered and sparkled, it appeared as if the stars themselves sought to smite each other.


----


Rolling back down the charnel pit barricade, Ui’Kuna’Ro sidled up against a near unconscious Elan’Jhin,
“They haven’t sent through anything new yet Shas’El, I’ve counted several times now, it’s strange..”
She fussed over her carbine while regarding the perimeter again.
“Hrmm.., probably expected us done with.. maybe” he fumbled his sentence, “I mean, the Kor’vre earlier, ..unexpected”
She nodded casually; pretty convinced no one had expected that aerobatic swing of fortune. Across from her the only other survivor, la’Chona was maintaining a more vigilant watch than her. He was a tough, if stunted shas’la and very clearly a proven fighter. She was certain after this, no shas’la in the Cadre would dare slight him by reiterating the belief he had been misplaced by a faulty Earth caste incubator drone.

An odd flurry in the sky above caught her attention; she raised the carbine up and auto-focussed with the weapon’s enhanced optics,
“Friends are coming” she announced her atmospheric discovery.
They all looked upwards. High above, like a mad avian flock having forgotten to fly, an entire wing of kor’vesa tumbled furiously downwards. Kuna’Ro adjusted her optics gain, spotting a trio of skydiving silhouettes. A Crisis team. They had to be led by either Vre’Es’Shi or Kan’ka, she wagered to herself.
“Extraction?” mumbled the Shas’El.
“No, Ar’eldi insertion..”
She looked over to say more, but the Shas’El had finally passed out. Kuna'Ro silently hoped this drop heralded a concerted rescue effort.

The drones continued their reckless trajectories, seemingly prepared to crash headlong into the ruined compound. At about two hundred tor’lek they righted on gyros, then inbuilt grav compensators killed the airspeed. The drones performed a synchronised formation manoeuvre, sweeping out over the compound, to create a perimeter bristling with carbines and armored domes. Quietly lowering into their midst, a lone commlink drone with two companion shield drones, took up protective positions about the barricades. Hurtling not far behind, the Xor’Vesa la’rua rolled out and righted themselves in the last few hundred tor’lek, hooves first. A mix of grav-tech and vectored thrusts provided all the braking required, annulling their inertia and flaring up the detritus of their surrounds as their pneumatic armored hooves thudded down in chorus atop the rubble.

Kuna’Ro regarded the Crisis team as they expectantly scanned their immediate surrounds, weapons at the ready. After a moment the lead XV turned about and stomped over toward the survivors. Climbing atop the barricade, she hoped to face the new arrival at a more even height.
“Shas’Ui, status?” a new voice crackled into her headset as their comm-net synched.
When the XV took up an air of casualness, trademark of one particular Shas’vre, her recognition of the voice mattered little,
“Four critical, two in the fight Vre’Kan’ka. The Residence staff are trapped in the bunker below, but we have had no contact since an explosion within the upper building”
He took this in while observing what must have been a bitter fight, these shas’la had done their duty and protected the diplomatic personnel to the last,
“Where is the Shas’El? I’ve been sent to locate him”
Kuna’Ro waved behind her to a battered shas, his armor marred heavily and rent in several places. None of the visual cues remained of his rank, the lack of a locator signal only confirmed the device had been damaged at some point.
“El’Jhin needs extraction immediately, as do the other three”
The suit’s helm glanced upwards as if spying something distant,
“I’ve already flagged an extraction flight that’s on circuit, we were unsure how welcome our arrival would be. Hopefully any follow up fio’vesa will get to the staff below when they arrive. To be honest, they are safer down there for now”
Kan'ka looked about the bloodied rubble, his digital gaze settling upon a dead insurgent,
“I have further orders to relieve Capital’s Government district, then link up with the remains of Militia Capital command. The sensor-net is barely differentiating the bio readings among the population centres. Have you seen any raiders moving beyond the Residence?”
The shas’ui held her carbine loosely to the side in thought,
“Not sure, I've seen nothing heavier than spike rifles thankfully”
The Xor’Vesa nodded idly, exuding a sense of imminent departure,
“Alright, was worth asking. I’m tasking the kor’vesa wing to stay an-“

He was interrupted by a burst of actinic sparks crackling about the parklands, heralding a new brace of energetic orbs, each snapping haphazardly into existence; out of the glow yet more Drantakh and Naghyri raiders arrived, all too casually. Carrying support gear and random kitbags, they were obviously unaware about the rapid demise of the preceding assault wave. Their surprise realisation, when confronted by a hovering wall of Tau military hardware, was something to behold.
Vre’Kan’ka rotated on the spot, signalled weapons free, and fired.

At such close range; burst cannons, massed carbine fusillade and Kan’ka’s choicely placed plasma bolts, blasted the hapless aliens into seared viscera and anatomical ruin across the rubble surrounds. Punctuating the end of hostilities, a stuttered carbine burst elicited a final rasping yelp.

Protected by the Xor’vesa’s bulk before her, Kuna’Ro had sought no cover during the one sided firefight, She had felt a detached satisfaction in witnessing the animated ruin. When the tension subsided, she offered up what seemed a trivial piece of advice now,
“The count is twelve raik’or, between waves”
“Best synch that count into the kor’vesa network,” Kan’ka replied in aside, then continued where he had left off,
“I’ll take a squadron of six with us and move on, the remainder should suffice for next time”
“Should do, considering”
A distant crackle of small arms snatched at their attention, the city’s population was still readily embroiled in the most unexpected of battles. It had been a day of dark deeds, in spite of which, the tau would make good on their promises. Whatever the cost,
“They fought a good fight Kuna’Ro”
The shas’ui stiffened slightly, so far she had kept thoughts about their losses at arms length,
“Hunt well Kan’ka”
She gave a respectful sign back.
At that, the Crisis team jogged out of the compound, halting at the edge of the park to survey their options. The shas’vre spied a vantage point and boosted himself out of sight, his team following with a small wake of drones flitting behind.

Finally allowing her guard to drop, Kuna’Ro slid back down behind the barricade, enveloped by the comforting stillness within the energy field of the shield drones. Eventually the sound of familiar turbines began to filter over the parkland, but by then Kuna'Ro was lost in thought over those who would not be leaving here. No sooner had they gathered up the wounded, been replaced by a fresh la'rua and lifted off, than she began accessing and manipulating operational rosters via the on board tactical console. After several attempts at forgery and plausible mistakes of fact, a slight murmur of satisfaction escaped her lips. The Drantakh and her would indeed meet again.


----

Part Nineteen


Spike bolts pelted the armored transport, causing Leena and her detail to flinch back behind its bulk. The high velocity stakes were lethal against personnel, but singularly useless against serious armor.
“Bastard” grunted Jared, her specialist, “almost had a bead on that one boss” he flashed a devil eating grin at Leena while prepping his high-powered rifle again.
“You’ll get another chance I’m sure” she commented, assessing her handful of suit wearing security agents.
Daring a scan over the sloped bonnet of her client’s ride, she took in the whole four storey government block; now a battlefield, strewn with civilian and Militia dead, the bodies lying near the entrances, forecourt and lawn surrounds. She could see a number of the gangly aliens flick in and out of cover from those same front entrances and upper windows, trading fire with various armed defenders dug in along the semi-circle entranceway drive. The area always a cavalcade of military and security transports for the dignitaries inside. This semi-permanent row of vehicles had become a veritable barricade for them all to take cover among and return fire, the space between having quickly become a no man’s land. She ducked back down.
“Complete mess guys” she spat.
Two of them kept a look out around the ends of the transport, the other four including herself huddled in close, assault carbines tucked aside,
“Right, we’ve lost contact with our client. Poor bastard is stuck inside, probably dead. But he’s our paycheck, so we have got to at least make an attempt”
The group shuffled uneasily, every Militia sortie had been a massacre, the magically conjured aliens intended to stay put while their kill teams hunted everyone inside. As if to punctuate the point, an explosion, screams and the chinking sound of spike pistols erupted from within another wing of the Government building.
“That’s two sections out of four boss, I doubt we’ll find anyone alive in there at this rate”
Jared was right, the circular core structure, which housed the senate hall, had four wings jutting out at angles. After they had taken control of the core building, it was allowing the aliens to move from wing to wing without encountering a major bottleneck.
Leena grimaced in thought. She had to bide her time, cowering behind this fat arsed luxury transport was making her itch to get in the fight and not think straight. The recent murder of escaping staffers they had all witnessed earlier, played through her mind again and she gripped her carbine tightly.

“Leena..” a voice broke her momentary brooding.
Farren was distracted by a glinting reflection from the newly invaded wing, his eyes fixed while she shuffled along the chassis to look over his shoulder.
“That’s tap-code” she commented on spying it also.
“Mmm,” mumbled Farren, reading the winks of light, “smart bugger, four man, blue.. fifteen seconds. This might work” he added with a bouyed confidence.
Leena looked about, and saw the appropriately coloured vehicle; one of her competitor’s rigs. She tapped her earbead and linked to the security channel common to all companies.
“Ray, this is Leena. You see that tap-code?”
“Ya, we’re ready. I’m about done with sitting on my ass”
She saw the grey haired veteran look about the end of his rig, nod and flick out a five count.
“Jared, nail that bastard behind the right entranceway colonnade.”
“Boss” he rolled back down under the rear wheel housing.
“Rest of you, cover the first group, anything that sticks it’s whatever out except for that window, frag it”
“Boss” they chorused and racked their automatics.
Five.

Ray kept his word, his small unit of six operatives stepped out expensive, the hammer of their heavy carbines raked every suspect window, the living cordon a shimmer of muzzle flash and casings.
A crack-whump punctured the din, Jared spitting a profanity as his mark flopped out onto the forecourt, a physical ruin.

Leena fired before she really saw the alien, the lanky arm darting out from an upper window overlooking the escape route. It pulled back as her rounds pockmarked the masonry. The first knot of people fled for their lives wailing in terror. One immediately went backwards, the spike picking him off his feet before he had made another step to freedom.
“Rooftop!” Leena growled, caught out engaging another sniper.
Farren pivoted, spied the alien atop the roofline of the wing they looked onto. He put a burst centre mass. The gangly figure stumbled and fell over the roof line apex out of sight.
A blur of hysterical figures ducked behind the blue rig and a cheer rang out from the semi-circle.
“Got three Leena” Ray commented bluntly, his voice bitter over the man sprawled out only a few feet away.
“Two more groups boss” Farren clipped, watching for the alien on the roof line again.
They repeated the spectacle twice more, the insurgents didn’t reveal themselves again, deciding they could spare a few humans and focus on killing easier targets inside. Even as the survivors fell bodily into the arms of the security teams, more spike fire and screams erupted deep inside the government block.
“That’s what? Eleven out of five hundred odd people?” grunted Jared, priming his rifle again as he came out from under the wheel housing.
They all exchanged dark glances.

A commotion broke out inside the same office the recent escape had begun. It sounded as if someone was purposely trashing the space therein. Glass, wood and decor crashed and toppled, then the whole window exploded outwardly, as an alien tumbled out trying to get to grips with its victim. Everyone who could draw a bead tried to interject with a shot but the embroiled combatants offered no opportunity. A lone -Chink!- sounded out across the lawn and the fight ended. The alien flapped around, tried to get up, then rolled to one side of the man underneath, gurgling within its bulbous, multi-lens head armor. Finally after a twitch, it died.
“Crazy bastard, he shot it” Farren couldn’t contain his surprise.
Those nearest shouted to the man to get up, get into cover, but he remained still and soon everyone quietened down fearing the worst. Abruptly the figure rolled onto his haunches, a little winded, then snatched up the spike pistol, scanning his surrounds like a pro.
“Jaida! Now!” he shouted, leading the pistol along the windows overlooking the escape route.
A dishevelled woman half leapt, half fell out of the broken window frame and ran to the lone man. Quickly the duo ran sideways for the line of armored vehicles, festooned with muzzles as every able weapon covered the miraculous escape.

The man thrust his charge behind Leena’s transport and tucked in amongst the security team.
“Hi” he exalted with adrenalin laced eyes, offering a slime-covered hand, “Lyal Ollesan”
“Leena Winslow, Sec-Ops” she eyed the remarkable man over as they shook hands.
Yet before she could comment further, the keen sound of turbines approached from the direction of Memorial Parklands.
Three Tau battle suits thudded down from out of nowhere, just beyond the entrance wall perimeter in the street, their helms tracking the facia of the Government building. A single armored hovertank descended rapidly in behind them, the tau combat transport disgorging a dozen-strong team of heavily armed tau warriors, just as a flock of drones slid through the air above the scene. The hovering gun platforms split into pairs overhead the line of human defenders. Immediately they set about suppressing sniping locations, places Leena had also surmised the insurgent aliens had taken up.
“It’s on” Jared grunted, breaking his rifle down and swinging it over his back, then drew a modified sidearm.
Everyone instinctively knew the battle plan, grabbing what munitions they had and readying for the death sprint across open ground. Leena handed her heavy calibre pistol over to Lyal.
“Thanks, not much use this” he waggled the oversized spike pistol and tossed it, “I think it’s user ID” he smiled sardonically while also ridding himself of his ruined suit jacket, finally grabbing the weapon on offer.
The tau battlesuits quickly vaulted the outer wall with a roar of jet thrusts, landing in the middle of the human defensive line. Plodding purposefully forward through the vehicles, their weapons whined with power and tracked cautiously. The trio were suddenly met with a rain of spike bolts and the scene became bathed in blue plasma light and strobing pulse fire as the tau replied.

There was no single commanding shout to charge, or a lone acknowledged order for action. Every single officer, soldier and agent ran at the ruined entrances in an uproar of vocalised anger, their weapons fore and firing at whatever tried to stop him or her. The assault quickly arrived in amongst cover on the other side unscathed. So rapid was their charge, they had either caught Death napping, or possibly he too had taken cover in the face of such naked vengeance. Lyal leapt through a shattered ground floor window nearest to him, instantly confronting an alien insurgent. At this range any weapon was good enough to kill and he opened fire, it jinxed aside and drew a bead on him, whipping a lanky pistol arm about. A pulse round popped the bulbous helm and Lyal's would be killer fell away headless with a wet burst of fluids splattered across the wall behind. Bounding down from his braced fire position atop the window frame, a stout tau warrior trotted past Lyal with a curt nod. Wordlessly they teamed up and the odd pair moved deeper into the building, quickly rejoining the murderous fray.

Part Twenty


“Hold” the Kor’O waved his slim hand slightly.
The long range gunnery kor’ui checked his operators’ fire. The Dranta defense grid was proving more effective as the range closed and the capital missiles lost their evasive ability to warp-dive while spiralling inward on the Drantakh fleet. Best save them for that final fight over death’s ground, he mused to himself.
“Roll half, bring to bear new batteries, torpedoes with ECM and Marker mix, initiate ..now.”
The command room hemisphere remained calm, professional. The soft taps and considered movement of his crew maintained their morale despite their hideously disadvantaged position. He listened as they affected his orders smartly.
“Rolling Kor’O”
“Munitions transferring, one raik’or”
Gracefully the security waystation pirouetted on its axis, taxed firing tubes falling silent as fresh launchers took up their allotment in the fire sequence.
“Roll complete Kor’O” announced the Kor’Vre heading station management, her trench a hive of activity as the kor’la under her delegated damage control fio’vesa. Thankfully they had gotten off lightly so far.

Ru’Che’s long arms settled behind his back, one hand cusped in the other as his station renewed its barrage. The fight went well, despite the inevitable, and they were causing the Drantakh some expense for such a small defensive structure. He traced an eye over the graphical image of his station on the central curved tactical wall. The orbital was slightly tilted, the armoured dome protecting the deck column underneath like a broad umbrella in this, the most deadly of rains. The stations' main batteries, situated around the lower end, were enjoying an unhindered field of fire at this angle across the lip of the dome. They could engage around the structure if positioned normally, but at these distances, even a raik’an delay gave your enemy an advantage to spot and confuse the inbound weapons.

A passing refreshments por’vesa offered Ru’Che a levitated platter of seafood morsels, which included a few local species he had developed a taste for. After taking a selection it politely retreated then continued deeper into the room, leaving the tau officer to consider a nagging curiosity. At current velocities his counterpart would bypass the station and need to swing through the gravity well to reengage while attempting an orbital circuit under fire, this also being over the far side of Odysseus. It was obvious since the engagement had begun, but the questionable purpose of it still escaped him. He chewed lightly in thought and began manipulating a rough tactical hypothesis on the viewfield before him. The trajectory intersected between his orbital and the world below. Dangerous if planet side defences were in place, but the Drantakh would know this already, in the end it was no more risky when faced with a lone orbital. He let the AI project several possible course paths for him. Something familiar was just escaping his attention. Looking up he reviewed the enemy fleet configuration on main tactical, then their resultant courses on his own display. The transports would be ensconced in a shield of frigates all the way through, leaving him perplexed still.
“Kor’O?”
He looked down politely from the upper platform to the nearby sensor suite, taking a pause to swallow.
“Yes Vre’Jasu?” he acknowledged the officer; curiously the kor’vre was still focussed on his own viewfield.
“We have intermittent echoes returning from out system space. Main tactical Kor’O, at two four eight horizontal”
Ru’Che looked up sharply. His jaw line tensing as freckles of violet populated the indicated degree of reference. For the first time he felt a cooling flush of dread, that configuration was not unlike many he had dealt with in simulations since the tau had warred with these aliens. It was a vanguard element formation, and behind it no doubt, a Fleet of the Line. The two of them exchanged knowing glances.

Abruptly, before Ru’che’s fear could unfurl banners and parade overtop his calm demeanour, it was barrelled aside by a sudden realisation over why he faced two fleets. He had been right from the start, the Drantakh were indeed going to bypass him, but not to force land their cargo planet side. Ru’che danced long fingers within his viewfield. There it was, one possible path had the transports intersecting a short window where they would burn through the southern thermosphere. Insane if deploying a combat drop, but that was not their intention.
He eased away from the sweeping arc of touch panels before him, the realisation of what the Drantakh where about to do invading his imagination.

A moment later, as Aun’Jaun’Qoal listened to Ru’Che, his own face tightening as he realised exactly what Damian Marshall would now encounter, for the timing was becoming terribly close.
“Your Excellency, he must know” Ru’Che argued respectfully.
The Aun was oddly quiet, deliberating internally despite knowing full well what must be done. He finally spoke with much care,
“He already shows signs of questioning why he leads his people into that complex. Should we give him reason to flounder in the knowledge that their deaths are assured and yet an even greater threat is to come? Or we remain quiet and leave him focussed and unaware, a chance to fight on ignorantly, in hope that they survive?”
The Kor’O was quiet, he understood the truth of it,
“He has to succeed” was all he could add.
Even now, Ru’Che couldn’t agree openly, but he acquiesced in the face of bleak necessity.
“He and his people, will give their world as much time as they can” Jaun’Qoal spoke quietly, if not reverently, "so we must give him as much time as we can, since it was a path we forced upon him"
The softly projected ghost drew itself up within the bunker’s briefing chamber before Jaun’Qoal and the holo-emitter.
“My shadow will be tall on this, my last sunset” Ru’Che quoted an ancient T’au writing.
“I thank you for the shade my friend” Jaun'Qoal provided the counterpart phrase.
Ru'Che smiled lightly then faded away, leaving the Ambassador in the quiet dimly lit space, made darker still.

Part Twenty One

No matter his reservations, Damian could not disparage the sunsets of his homeland, one of which was beginning to set down behind the Karapeshi ranges, fingers of light streaking overhead in peach and violet coloured rays. The few clouds present giving the canvas sky a soft mottled texture. He was about to take in the vista further, when a light tone emitted in his ear.
“Five miles out” he heard Kali follow up the limit marker he had placed in their flight waypoint packet.
“Por’Vre Eylo?”
“Yes Lord Marshall?”
“Damian, please..” he mused, having corrected her several times during their continental sprint into southern Karapesh, “we’re ready to cover Vre’Ulo and his men when they deploy”
“I’ll tell the shas’vre”
A few moments passed, though not as quickly as the brushland below the trio of fast movers. The tau combat hovertank was enviably fast by local standards, the two vector fighters flying either side were slightly over optimum power and even still the tau transport could pull away. Admittedly you don’t really give your allies equipment that surpasses yours, but still the flyer in him couldn’t take the slight lying down.
“He is ready, drop commencing” Eylo eventually confirmed.

The three craft shot out over a low depression in the rolling plains, their flight arcing to one side of a sprawling complex ahead. Before them were several vehicle parks, permanent amusement stalls and a larger structure, the defunct Karapeshi War Museum. Long abandoned after being bombed repeatedly by the Rebels in recent years. As sad as this was, the vandalism went so far as to destroy the glass encased cover which protected the last remaining, publicly known, missile silo of the Rising War. The underground structure slowly eroding like the budget assigned to maintain the site ever since. It was meant to be a reminder of what had been achieved in one day against the Imperium, now it was a gaping pock mark eyesore in the middle of nowhere, a symbol of how far Karapeshi pride had fallen in the last few decades. Tonight, in spite of this, the Karapeshi First would fill its corridors one last time.

Focussing on the readouts projected across his field of view, Damian assessed the area for anything untoward, even still the Tau would have noticed anything amiss just as quickly. An alert bleated, the rear ramp of the transport lowering down as the hovertank descended to only a few feet above the ground. It slid across an open parking area, the stealth team vaulting out with a short jet burst, fading away before they even touched the bitumen. It was a disconcerting display seeing the whole troop disintegrate visually. However, their locator beacons shone a bright blue through his visor band view.
“The Shas’vre is deployed, moving to the assigned perimeter”
“Acknowledged” he flicked his eyes across his wingman’s icon, the comm channel switching seamlessly “Kali, you’re in first, land on the ground deck. Plenty of room for everyone tonight”
A short wink of her icon, and the vector on his left vaulted forward. It slid sideways to stop sharply over top the gaping maw of the antique facility below; flight vanes flaring out like a raptor above hidden prey.
“Descending” she announced, the sleek VTOL lowering itself in complete rotations.
Damian continued to run cover while the tau hovertank reached the lip of the missile silo, patiently waiting its turn to seek cover. Almost appearing apprehensive with the snub nose peeking over the edge.
“Contact, powering down..” Kali paused in a post check, “clear for two”

The transport hovered out purposefully over the man made chasm, lowering itself similarly out of view. The tau pilot deftly placed the much bulkier hovertank to one edge of the ground deck moments later. Eventually, after Damian did a wide circuit of the immediate area, he too followed suit and landed on the outer edge at the bottom of the silo shaft.
Vaulting out of his cockpit, Damian could see Eylo and Kali in conversation while the shas’ui pilot and sensor operator setup a small array further under the first platter next to their hovertank.
“Quiet run” he commented, loosening some of his flight rig.
The women of two worlds regarded him, Eylo speaking after passing a glance at Kali,
“Our transport is particularly suited to deep reconnaissance and not a single contact appeared on our sensors either. I suspect the fighting is still far to the south, as we last heard”
The two pilots nodded in that manner gue’la did when agreeing.
“Guess that’s good for the Versa’s coming down tonight” Kali commented whilst rolling back on a heel, relaxing after the long, fast flight, “glad this old place checked out, hopefully no one spied us arriving either”.
“We’re setting up a passive array now,” Eylo reassured, “I should have contact with the first satellite to pass over Karapesh shortly. It will give us some idea of what’s going on near the Ranges or anyone sneaking by”
“Good, looks like our boldness is staying charmed so far” Damian stretched a taut frame, “Well, I’m going to grab a nap in one of the chambers here before the Versa’s arrive and we get to planning”
“Rest well” the tau chimed.

As Damian moved to a familiar doorway at the base of the missile silo, Kali caught up too him.
“Good to be back in a ‘vex?” she nudged him with a gleam in her eyes as the walked on together.
He chuckled at her enthusiasm, despite his wariness.
“Yeah.. fast ship that, Garmin certainly,” he paused, “well, he would have enjoyed a spin again” he said with more solemnity, nursing his ribs without realising.
The two of them could both recall the highly illegal flights they would take Garmin on during training days. They never got picked up for it, but it soon ended as Damian cycled back into civilian life after his well-reviewed, two year stint in the growing Capital Militia. Kali had remained, addicted to the craft and the thrill. Even with the brief time they had been around each other of late, he could also feel that past emanate from her, though the tension and familiarity could easily be drawing ghosts over his thoughts.
“He would have” she reflected, “gruff bastard”.
They both smiled.
He made to keep on going, small kitbag in tow, but she grabbed his hand and drew him into a close embrace,
“I miss him too Damian, everyone does.” she whispered into the scruff of hair behind his ear.
She withdrew, looking him in the eye,
“It’s been only a couple of days, you should..” she paused when he looked aside briefly.
He made to say something then seemed to think better of it.
“Don’t wake me, I’m sure the Versa’s will” a kind but dismissing smile and he disappeared into the gloom.

Eylo eventually trotted up behind Kali, seeing the gue’la female in repose and still looking at the exit way,
“You okay Miss Kali?”
“Men” she huffed.
The tau looked onward to the exit, then after a quiet moment,
“Back on Sa’cea, the world I come from, we have a saying”
An arced eyebrow invited the inevitable advice.
“A diverted river will eventually return to the course intended”
Kali took this in then effected a laconic grin,
“Wait him out?”
“Something like that, yes” the tau gave an odd human smile.
Kali drew on her lower lip, then gave a light sigh,
“He can’t simply resume flow, we need him to surge back Eylo”
The tau's eyes quietly agreed.
A shout from the sensor team got their attention. The por’vre replied in liquid syllables then turned back to Kali,
“The Shas’vre has secured the facility, ..you should get some rest too”
“What about you?”
“I’ll be fine, we are an energetic people”
Kali smirked,
“Can see why the first folks you made friends on this world were Marshalls, this one hasn’t stopped for days either” she thumbed at the empty doorway then moved off toward her vector.
Eylo was left contemplating the remark. Eventually the tau understood and affected that odd smile again.

Part Twenty Two

Ducking under the airborne obstacle, Jisu’ro deftly avoided the passing fio’vesa. About him every corridor and chamber was bustling with hurried activity and countless other vesa units. In the Council’s name, the Shas’El muttered, he had no idea the diplomatic mission had this many in storage back at the Southern Base.
“Shas’El, the Orca from Capital you flagged has arrived”
Jisu tapped his commbead in acknowledgement, diverting his inspection route; he headed toward the centre of the concentric bunker and the cavernous missile silo at its heart. Avoiding several more vesa and attendant fio’la.

The entire facility was getting an expeditious refit. As soon as Ru’Che had informed the Aun of their dire situation, he changed tact and began measures to secure and secret this base to levels not even dreamt of by the local gue’la. They had lost this first battle already, but he would ensure the victors did not enjoy their stay until help arrived, which could be several rotaa or more. If the first elements could not counter this new Drantakh fleet, it was likely to be even longer. He already had several of his juniors drawing up sabotage and night raids on likely strong points the Drantakh would take up once planet side. His only frustration being down a fifth of his stealth xor’vesa. Shas’Vre Ulo’s veteran la’rua having been assigned to Marshall’s increasingly one way raid. He had to admit though, if there ever was a group of shas he would breach any fortress to recover Jaun’Qoal, it was with Ulo and his Shas.

Shaking off the odd inverse vertigo on stepping out into the silo, Jisu’ro looked up to see the lone Orca slowly easing itself onto the ground deck. The craft was too massive for any of the platter levels, currently festooned with busy fio’vesa and a la’rua of fio’la attacking weak structural beams with plasma cutters and welding tools. The fio had said he could land an entire assault flight of fully loaded devilfish on those flimsy platters by rotaa’s end. Which, when it came to withdrawing the cadre into hiding for a potentially protracted guerrilla campaign, seemed increasingly likely.

The rear ramp contacted solidly with the decking, several impatient fio’vesa moved in immediately, flitting overhead a crowd of tau support crew disembarking. The drones and tau collectively hauling out even more supplies from the abandoned Southern base. But these were just white noise while the Shas’El walked into the cargo bay of the Orca seeking out his friend. It was Elan’Jhin who saw him first.
“You look liked a worried creche minder you old fool”
Jisu’ro smiled as he turned to his right and spied a battered Elan’Jhin standing on the other side of the bustling hold.
“Fool? You’re the a’saal taking a carbine to battle without a xor’vesa wrapt about your greying hide”
They paused, and then grinned at each other. The two crossing the tight confines and embraced briefly, then resumed a more dignified air. The brotherhood ran deep; the last two of their ta'lissera.
“You have recovered well?” Jisu’ro ventured.
“Mmm” Elan’Jhin affirmed with a grunt, “a stupefying wound, but easily stymied with decent attention” he chuffed, lifting up his ruined helm, the jagged shrapnel shard still firmly embedded in the optics.
“You had time for a keep sake?” his brother chorted.
“No, Ui’Kuna’Ro gave it to me” Elan’Jhin indicated by deflection, the dishevelled shas’ui stood next to the only other shas’la survivor of the brutal Embassy fire fight.
“To remind you of your place Shas’El” she spoke respectfully, but with an implied undertone.
The two Shas’El went quiet, it was Jisu who barked out a laugh,
“She’s right, you belong in a xor’vesa”
Elan’jhin grunted, then gathered up his carbine. He wouldn’t admit the error of judgement; he enjoyed being among his shas’la. But if he had worn his xor’vesa to battle, the result might have been much different. A mistake he would have to live with each time he recalled a face of the fallen.

“Have we had some success at the Embassy yet?” Elan’jhin renewed the conversation while the four tau followed out behind the last of the fio’vesa.
He had heard snippets from the flight crew, but nothing solid.
“Mmm, everyone is accounted for, your shas’la did our cadre proud Elan’Jhin” nodded his appreciation toward the tailing Shas behind him, Kuna’Ro and Chona looked at each other quietly under Jisu's approving gaze.
“So.. we face the Drantakh again” Elan muttered in aside after a few more steps.
His brother made a commiserating gesture, and then gave the two juniors a glance, causing them to recognise it was time to report elsewhere.
The tau officers waited briefly then Jisu’Ro began without unwarranted ears about,
“Worse still, a Fleet of the Line appeared on Ru’Che’s tactical little more than a dec ago. I don’t know how long we will have to keep our heads down, but I’ve already got all elements falling back here the moment their missions are completed. We’ve got to protect the Aun and his staff first, then think about inflicting telling cuts on these Drantakh later”
Jisu'Ro continued after a moment,
“We’ve done all we can given the circumstances. Our counter-attack shut down each raid on Capital thankfully. Vre’Es’Shi and Kan’ka performed superb actions with only a handful of casualties, their forces are already being airlifted back here. In all it seems only Naghyri appeared, what Drantakh where around focussed on the Embassy personally”
Elan’jhin twitched slightly, but he kept his council,
“Any more teleports since?” his quest for updates continued.
“No, they just wanted to hit this world’s proudest power base to prove they can reach out to any city on Odysseus, it was classic showpiece aggression”
“Wrecking the gue’la Militia command would do that, how bad has it been?”
Jisu’Ro shuffled slightly, not enjoying a recount of the numbers he had seen,
“You are well aware of the Embassy, but the toll has been brutal for all. Several hundred gue’la are dead; the Government block, Intelligence, Communication towers and Militia command base airfield have been gutted. Seems the Naghyri set charges everywhere. Some were defused, others..” he trailed off, “we cleared them out is the least I can say.”
“Did Shas’O Waylan survive the airfield attack?”
Jisu brightened fractionally, both having met and enjoyed the direct nature of their gue’la counterpart.
“Mmm, I recently informed him of our new predicament” he hummed positively, “he’s presently making an enraged kroot-ox seem docile. I’ve tasked the last Orca to collect him and a platoon of gue’la survivors with more materiel to join us here. In the mean time he has been disbanding the rest to form guerrilla cells and help the civilians where they can”
The duo began to move into the corridors of the bunker, heading toward the newly installed shas’ar’tol instinctively. The smeared and rent armor of the newly arrived shas’el receiving several shocked glares from passers-by.

“Any news from southern Karapesh?” Elan’Jhin continued as they moved through the bustling activity therein, ignoring the wake of sideways glances.
“Intermittent, a satellite is taking synchronous station tonight to help Marshall infiltrate the Drantakh complex shortly, overall it seems only Imperialists are taking the fight to the Militia based in the region”
“They’re using their meat shield to expand the landing” Elan spat a tau curse under his breath.
“It all comes to a intersection of our path in the next two decs brother” Jisu added informally referring to the coming assault fleet and the raid.
As one, they both reviewed the freshly installed tactical field which spread the length of the gue’la mess hall. Tau units flowed about Capital, others created an insect trail from the abandoned southern Estonian base. Ru’Che’s station winked and flickered as he engaged the assault fleet high above the polar orbit. Then in southern Karapesh, a small nest of stealth icons kept watch over their only hope to stem the speed of the Drantakh ground assault.
“You think he can do it Jisu?”
The Shas’El didn’t reply openly to Elan’Jhin. Eventually they exchanged like glances. Some truths were more easily said between familiar minds.

Part Twenty Three

Following in behind the leading element of tracked transports, Kade eased the armored scout car close to the aged building.
“Haven’t been here since I was a kid” he marvelled at the disrepair and depressed state of the Karapesh War Museum while taking a break from driving the stout vehicle.
Adam Devro remained quiet whilst he looked about from the cupola behind Kade, he agreed with the sad undertones of his Master at arms. His father and Loran Marshall had opened the site to remind future generations of what their forebears had fought against. Only Loran saw it as a community service, whilst his father had made sure he garnered several of the construction contracts. Still, he couldn’t keep his mind from wandering over the fact he had helped open the door for that future to be cut short, whichever way those men had seen it.

Several more transports arrived behind the first group. A mix of militia open tops and all terrain scout vehicles, accompanied by a platoon of Rising era tracked transports; his rear guard element having fought a hard won disengagement from the pursuing Imperialist forces. What had begun as a withdrawal from the foothills surrounding his family property, had turned into a running firefight as his column was hounded by heavily gunned technicals. Like a predator staving off the slashes of aggressive scavengers, he and his house guard had defeated each attack. Only to find their column grow in size as vanguard units came across Militia stragglers. For now it seemed the Imperialists were content with the ground they held, for what enemy they had encountered were small combat units out on missions of opportunity to harass the retreating Militia. Encountering Rising era combat transports and triplex lasguns had been a final, rude surprise for any that crossed Adam’s path.

“Lord Devro”
Adam looked from his cupola toward an officer nearby, the acting Militia force commander, dust marked face highlighting fresh skinned roundels where his combat visor normally sat, was walking over to the scout car with the weight of his position resting precariously atop his shoulders. That part of his uniform still showed his original lieutenant stripes, despite being ruined by dust and abuse.
“Commander?” he acknowledged the man of similar age to himself.
“That’s all for my troops, we’ve lost contact with that group to the west trying to reach us. I.. well”
Devro nodded, nothing more needed saying. The Commander looked around himself then added,
“We’ll busy ourselves setting up a defense here, good a place as any really”
The tone of finality in his voice not lost on Adam,
“Do what you can Commander, we will discuss our future movements when all have rested”
The man nodded warily, then gathered himself.
“Comm me when you’re ready to talk Lord Devro” he executed a remarkably smart salute given the conditions.
Adam replied similarly, then slipped down onto the cupola chair and looked at Kade,
“We should keep moving” he uttered without realising.
Kade looked at him for a moment, not used to such frank admission from his Lord. But, the man was right. Last stands lacked imagination.
“I’ll have the guard do a once over on our equipment and gear, get a feed in, then you can make your decision after that sir”
Ever the voice of sensible action, he nodded assent at Kade, then leaned back into the utilitarian seat.

“Lord Adam Devro” announced a loud voice over the apparently not defunct tannoy system about the parking area.
Kade nearly banged his head on the underside of the car's armor, in as much Devro gave him a rare, but startled glance.
“Lord Marshall requests your company”
The sense of dread that flushed through him was such a unique and curious sensation, one he had not often encountered. Adam almost enjoyed how Fate wanted to twist the blade in his gut further.
“I apparently arrived just in time for my appointment” he commented to Kade, his usual composure returning with its trademark air.
The broad man didn’t smile, but gathered up several firearms about his person.
“Allow me to accompany you sir,” he said flatly.

---

Quietly the contingent of Militia and Household Guard watched the the Family Lord, armed and armored, being flanked by Kade and four more bodyguards cross the parking area through their transports, toward a small maintenance entrance near the lip of the aged Missile bunker. Kade still kept a wary eye on two of the slim and lethal looking tau battlesuits which had materialised in such precognitive positions of superiority, that it was obvious the entire column had been allowed into this area, with such an eye in tactic, he had to respect the kill zone he had unwittingly driven into.

Ahead of their party stood Damian Marshall, enclosed in fitted Rising level body armor and assorted combat gear. A short female tau emissary in rather functional utility overalls and a Militia pilot, whose flight suit betrayed an athletic but competent female physique, flanked the stoic figure. It was however the twenty strong honour guard and yet another lone tau battlesuit that stood with them, that provided Adam and his men real consternation.
“Sir..” Kade quietly questioned the idea to meet, “we should have just driven on as you said”
“Now now Kade, for one, it’s impolite to ignore an invitation”
“Still”
“Still nothing, just nod and smile, I’ll see what Marshall wants and then we can think about leaving this place”
A grunt was all the consent he would get from the walking man mountain as Kade slowed his pace to fall into a flanking position. The Master at Arms living up to the title, an accruement of weapons and body armor about his person causing a one man show of force to those arrayed before them.

“Adam”.
“Damian”.
The terse mutual acknowledgement failed to hide any animosity, but the level at which it radiated from Marshall would have caused a rad count spike.
“Bad time to bring friends on a tour of our fathers’ handiwork don’t you think?”
Damian just blinked, then cocked his head slightly,
“Speaking of such, you and I need to talk”
Devro’s bodyguard bristled ever so slightly. A motion only those of the profession could pick up on.
“Alone” Damian added before something stupid occurred.
Devro looked to his second, a return glance of ‘I don’t recommend this’ was countered with ‘Stay here’.
Adam turned back to Marshall,
“Certainly, good a time as any” relenting to the absurd chance of it all, he waved a hand to encompass the gathered military and situation about them.
Damian indicated the stairwell nearby and made purposeful progress downward. Adam followed just after and the two groups of honour guard moved closer out of concern and curiosity.
“You must be Marshall's b_tch of the First” Kade growled at the woman pilot, sure of her seniority by the way people moved aside in her presence.
Kali eyed him over with effected disdain,
“Makes you Devro’s dog, you’re easily muzzled I see”
They eyed each other for a second, remaining on opposite sides of the imaginary fence, then returned their vigil toward one level down.

Stepping off the last step onto the platter Adam found himself confronted by Damian, the other man quietly awaiting the his arrival.
“Odd to fin-“
Hi comment cut off, Devro staggered backwards, his jaw lancing with pain. Regaining his balance he dropped into a protective stance only to collect a roundhouse kick to the side, leaving him sprawled out on the dust covered platter grating. Having enough of this, Adam flicked up onto his heels and parried two more blows, delivering a counter strike against one of Damian’s forearms. The assault paused.
“Why?” Marshall spat a demand, sizing up his opponent as he flicked out the dead feeling in his arm, despite the ceramic bracer.
“Opportunity” Adam replied to judging eyes.
A flurry of arms and defensive movements, the two took a measure of each other. Damian spat a profanity then drew back,
“Opportunity? It’s an invasion you self-centred ass!”
“I recently learned that when my estate got sacked the other night”
Damian clearly didn’t pity him,
“Oh for shame, you lose some toys?” the way Damian delivered it with condescension and poise tipped Devro into a more aggressive state, he lashed out with a sequence that nearly finished the fight if not for a final nimble dodge on Damian’s part.
““If I was as much my father as you are of yours,” Marshall breathed out heavily, circling about “I wouldn’t have half the doubt about going into hell to stop this as I do”
Unwittingly it stung Devro, that truthfully he was seen as this far gone. But more so his rival, in spite of how highly regarded he was, felt insecure in the face of his own heritage. A sudden, clean blow darted through that hesitation. Adam found himself on his ass, with the room spinning. He flailed wildly more in a dazed attempt to find his balance than defending himself; but nothing more came. Damian had retreated, squatting with his back against one of the platter support struts that rose up the internal space of the silo.
“You stupid bastard” Marshall stammered out, a man checking an emotional dam breach.

Letting the grimy decking cool his aching skull, Adam lay back in the dust-covered mess of the most hallowed ground in Karapesh.
The two young Lord’s remained quiet, each catching a breath, lost in the past, present and an uncertain future. They could have easily been on the other side of the world from the other. The silence between them hung for a some time, broken only when Adam rustled in place, lolling his sore head to look at Damian. The other karapeshi was regarding him without malice or pity.
“You’re going into the main cavern aren’t you?”
Damian nodded slowly.
“I’ve been there, I have an idea where you need to go”
His opposite seemed to pause,
“You want me to trust you?”
Adam tried to ignore the slight, but he also knew for a while to come he would have to weather that storm from many others.
“Hopefully in future, but just for today, give me a chance to redeem my name”
“Our Father’s tried this once, mine died”
The flatness in the retort, made it all the colder.
Adam couldn’t help but flick his gaze down.
Looking aside himself, Damian touched the decking with his hand thoughtfully,
“It was pretty easy to go through the motions, get the First back together, fill up with the pride and history. But to look at these people and take them where we need to go” he paused to check himself from rambling, “I am afraid for them, are they following me out of duty or for the legend?”
Adam rolled up to sit, still nursing a slight stupor,
“For what it’s worth? They do follow you because you represent the legend in as much your Family has earned their loyalty; we’re sitting in an inverted edifice to that end. All they really need is that you lead them. You cannot be either the easy going Damian or pastiche of your forefathers, otherwise this,” he wanded a finger in circles pointing to all above them, “has already failed.”
Adam relented for a moment, then rallied one last time,
“Just.. be that bridge between the ideal and the reality”.
It was partly refreshing to be able to talk so frankly, each only willing to open up to a perceived equal. Even though they were near mortal enemies, it would have to do. Despite his artful plea, Adam could see Damian was lost to his thoughts. Seeing no avenue to talk further, Adam lay down on the decking again, closing his eyes to the renewed silence as he considered an uncertain future also.

A voice addressed Adam directly, causing him to wonder how long he had lain there.
“I said, do you need a hand?”
Opening his eyes he saw Damian standing over him. Adam proffered a hand and was hauled to his feet, Damian spoke first after a pause,
"I didn't expect us to cross paths so soon, or get some perspective out of it” he moved past Adam slightly then added honestly, "thanks"
Adam remained quiet in the face of this admission, so counter to everything Marshall felt toward him earlier, it could almost be labelled cathartic for Damian.
Whatever the change, Adam just held the gaze of his contemporary.
“I think I’m done here” Damian continued, but his inference was toward the forlorn remnant of a past achievement, not so much their recent altercation.
He already had a boot on the first step out, then looked back toward Devro,
“I’m heading south, you?” he challenged.


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