Post by bluesnailok on May 14, 2023 19:38:30 GMT
General
All across the city, as the fog dissipated, the chaos and destruction had become clear. The news wasn’t wrong, the entirety of the North Bank had completely collapsed. The last vestiges of Kabanese Law Enforcement had either been disintegrated or withdrawn to the South, where they might consolidate, but even there the rising plumes of smoke told a story far from one of stability. The embassies were truly encircled now.
President Monatt had reportedly turned yellow at the situation and already requested an evacuation by helicopter. This evacuation had not yet come, and it didn’t seem likely it would come anytime soon. But the leaking of the President’s abandonment of hope still left its impact, morale for anyone bothering to maintain order was gone. Authority was gone. Now all that was left were the writhing maggots of what would rise from its carcass to replace what had died.
The Pro-Tesfeld Loyalist Paramilitaries had already filled the vacuum of what they could from the absence of the police in the North, but they weren’t much better than the anarchy of the rebels. News was already spreading of kangaroo courts, lynchings and beatings by themselves as well as the revolutionaries.
An ominous rumble had also come at this time. It would later reveal itself to have been the Antap Bridge; it had been blown. Both sides, quite literally in this scenario, were accusing the other of the bridge's destruction. The event had occurred just as the bridge was being lost to the rebels, who were looking to spill into the Southbank. Still, Kaban Authorities insisted that they were not responsible for its destruction, instead claiming that it was conducted by either rebels or a third party. The death toll was uncertain, but sure to be in the dozens, if not hundreds as scenes of bodies floating down the river became a common sight in media coverage.
__
Envoy Avenue
The situation in the avenue did not calm further, now amid the chaos, the fighting had turned into a clashing of mobs, throwing themselves into one and other in a heaving mass of clawing, biting and screaming. Individuals came squeezing out of it into the sides of the streets with blood streaming down their faces or carrying others. Projectiles came flying in all directions on people as people lobbed whatever they could find. Even other people’s belongings if need be.
At the entrances of the Carnaith and Union embassies, people were still doing everything they could to force their way into the buildings. The rest of the masses had now turned their attention to the Union’s other buildings along the avenue, looking to find their ways into them for sanctuary in a frantic effort to escape the enclosing dangers both immediately around them and from the revolutionaries down the street.
The returning Jade and Carnaithan Patrol found their way to the backdoors for one of these supplemental union buildings. While nothing like the crowds in the mainstreet, this too was filled with a dozen Telirans all hurriedly trying to break their way into the building to find safety.
Inside the Union-Carnaith Embassy itself, Tasimbi had already taken the liberty of waiting no longer. He came storming upstairs to find the ambassadors himself before he was guided in. Like a bull, the Teliran militia leader was practicalling fuming steam from his nostrils as he came stomping in. Clutching his beret in one hand, the Teliran gestured back to the door and bitterly spat out the words,
“Do you know what is going on down dere? Do you know what is happening in de street?!”
The militiaman’s broken pronunciation did not change the seriosity of his tone,
“Do someding!”
Ophenia's Group
Taliki did not seem to respond to the group’s clear hesitation to set off, let alone with him, but the masked tribesman did give Oyle a glance before turning to face Ophenia herself. With his rifle in his hands the Tykeman stomped through the room up to the teacher.
“You. People. You follow. You no slow. Yes?” He inquired harshly, evidently Mr. Masarr was not a big fan of his current mission. Turning back to Oyle, he followed the old man out as the group set out onto the streets.
The city that the students had hidden away from a week ago was nothing like Kaban as it was now. The buildings were the same of course, but it was like even the air the group was breathing was different. Trash now covered the unmaintained streets, street lights flickered on and off, the wreckage of vehicles now filled the roads, even the sounds of police cars, shooting and shouting were just distant murmurs in the background.
Even old Oyle seemed to be full of energy as he and the armed Sasonish tribesman hurried down roads and alleyways. Any locals, both unarmed and rebel, that encountered the group merely took to staring. Few spoke, not with the tribesman with them as they rushed down the roads.
It was a short while before the group reached a standoff. Split lengthwise down lower Natse Lane, two sets of barricades had been formed from furniture, cars and whatever else. On one side were clearly the rebels, in their signature bandanas, on the other side were some kind of trained force. They were clad in clean, well-kept armour, but not so much that they were overequipped, just enough to be cost-efficient in arming a large security force. This was the Corporate Sector.
Rather than try to cross either barricade, Oyle and his companion instead continued guiding the party southwards, down the open, barren lane. Past barricade after barricade they were, past a thousand staring and heavily armed eyes that watched the group carefully and with suspicion, not a sound was made by them. It was clear the presence of the Sasonish Tribesman was presently the only thing keeping trouble from breaking out.
At one point the team even passed by a fight. The barricades where the corporate forces had once fell were now unoccupied, battered and destroyed. The rumbles of shouting and heckling from beyond made it clear that parts of the security for the corporate towers were being forced back from their outer defences.
Finally, the expedition came to a halt. Oyle didn’t seem any more tired than he had been when he set off, but a grimmer look was on his face than ever. Before them, on the side the corporate forces had been occupying further north, now there was a different face manning the roads from rebels. Automatons.
Above them was a neatly kept flag that hung from a building the robots had seized for outer defences.
“Orillia ahead.” Taliki commented in a displeased tone, with that, Oyle began moving towards the barricades, only to be quickly met by the booming loudspeaker voice from the robot standing over them. Its voice was not robotic, far from it, and its quality made it quite clear it was a feed from someone speaking and using the robot as their medium of communication.
“Halt! Further advance will be met with force.”
Oyle halted, looking back to Ophenia.
_
High Imperium Legation
The situation out in the legation streets was not improving anymore. Quite the opposite infact. The withdrawal of Imperial forces back towards their strongpoint after the crackdown was quickly treated as a collapse of authority and a success for the rebels. The rioters and protesters went on the initiative as they set about destroying any legation property they could. Bins, homes, cars, shops, drones, anything that was not secured was swallowed up in their explosion of energy.
Now viewed as a weak zone, the rioters and protesters from beyond the legation, still being dealt with by the South Bank Kabanite police forces began to pour into the legation as a rallying zone and one where they could fear less prosecution. Even worse, hours into the troubles, guns started finding their ways onto the streets.
The source was unclear, but weapons were practically being handed out to random strangers in crate drops complete with ammunition and bandanas. The rioters were being armed and now the Kabanite Government had taken notice.
A simple message transmitted from the desk of President Monatt made it quite clear,
“The President of the Union State finds the ability to maintain order within the legation properties of the High Imperium unsatisfactory. We recommend that liaison Zeister return to the custody of the Kabanite Government at once unless the current instability within the region is ended at once.”
__
Chrysaor Castle
Even as the survivors of the onslaught wept and recovered from their suffering, the revolutionaries didn’t let up. From the smoke, the broken buildings and the surrounding city streets, came the marching sound of a new attack. But this new wave was not like before. It wasn’t a herd of discordant running of footsteps, it was a continuous, methodic crunching, timed march.
The source did not wait to appear. From down the streets to the west they appeared. Automatons, machines, and ones armed for the job to wipe out the base for good no less. They came to a halt some distance away.
Their assault was about to begin. There was no time to waste.
Envoy Avenue
Takenaka slowed as they spotted the dozen civilians trying to barge into the back door. He marked commands for his three marines using his HUD, and then extended his AA-42 to melee length and planted its butt on the pavement, his other fist on his hip. As his marines took up covering positions to watch their backs, Takenaka suddenly yelled at the natives, hoping to overwhelm them with sheer surprise, his drill sergeant's voice echoing down the street, amplified by his snarling dragon helmet.
"YOU! THIS PLACE IS FORBIDDEN! LEAVE!" he roared, raising the spear and pounding its butt on the ground for emphasis on the last word.
Inside, the ambassador gripped the arms of his chair for a moment as the Teliran militia commander burst in, but then settled back down as he began yelling. He recognised Tasimbi but had nothing to say to the man - he would leave that to his Union colleague.
Calico had ordered the embassy gates shut, there were simply too many people now trying to enter the compound they could not try to vet them one by one. They did not have enough men and the crowd was now starting to push through them, threatening the safety of the entire embassy compound. The sergeant felt a brick impact his shoulder, even with the suit of armour it made him stagger, the guards were shouting at the crowd to no avail. It was absolute chaos.
They were even trying to climb over the walls, security and just regular embassy personnel were running around, responding to perimeter breaches, or trying to relay information. Calico was tired, exhausted even and this was the culmination of the entire situation. The baying crowd at the main entrance continued to try reach through the gate, cries to get back were being ignored. They had a powder keg outside, and while them breaking in was for the moment unlikely, the number of dead caused by a stampede would be immense.
Almost as soon as he had thought it there was gunfire. The crowd panicked as more followed, the Union and Carnaith troops on the overlooks desperately trying to get a bead on it. The metal gate bowed slightly as the mass of people panicked, stamping over one another.
The commotion was clear from outside. Khamir had absolutely no idea what to do.
“Do what? Let them in and flood this place which has almost no supplies? So, we all die together? Their panicking out there and there’s fighting there is nothing we can do to help them!” It was clear the ambassador’s nerve was starting to break.
"Do something?" Vitiri responded to the militant officer after Khamir had his turn. "I don't know what you think these places are, but they were never designed to be military bases! Our guards are stretched to their limit as-is without having you barge in here and telling us to accelerate this travesty any further! You do something. You do something with your gung-ho soldiers, so ready to take our side."
A cruel glint had taken its place in the sheen of the Carnaithian ambassador's eye, and the jarring pok, pok of low-velocity, low-yield emotional suppressant pheromone canisters going off in the lobby precipitated a lull in the noise just long enough to let the footfalls in the stairwell make themselves clear. At the guardrail, the jaded eyes of Padov Lyk swept across the diplomats and the "colonel" alike.
"You, the one who had the great idea of distracting the door guards from the crowd," he settled on Tasimbi, "I don't care what kind of unit you lead, but they're on par with corona in the field of diplomacy. There's a gunfight out there and I'm not pushing my guys out there to deal with it. And nobody with a gun is coming through those doors until it stops."
Ophenias Troupe
The students and faculty staff had no choice but to follow. They were not thrilled or excited about being dumped on the Orillians, but they knew to stay was to die. Keeping close to the guide they watched the surroundings closely, the staff trying to help keep an eye out for any combat they might encounter. The group had quickly hurried past the stand off barricades and fights, not wanting to attract attention the guide at least had been welcome, many seemed to stay away from them.
As they approached the Orillian embassy however the group became more tense, whispering among the students didn’t help, especially when the robotic voice called out to them. Ophenia was waiting for Oyle to say something but frowned when he gestured to her. Stepping forward she took a moment to decide on what to say.
“We are refugees, looking for shelter and help. We… We are from the Union embassy” Many looked at her angrily. But it was obvious where they were from, the Orillians would know regardless if she lied.
High Imperium Legation
It looked as if Meltar was going to chastise him for the ongoing situation. Zeister had clearly misjudged, but then the people here likely hated the High Imperium more than his own people.
“Before you try to chew me out this was just part of a plan, they have not calmed, and you have given them the chance to. Now is the time to use force, target the ring leaders and those who seem to be spurring them on. Meet violence with violence but be clear this is a dispersal operation not a massacre, you don’t want to embolden them. What’s the status on someone to blame, or the investigation?”
Meltar huffed, turning slightly. "We haven't seen hide or hair of this supposed murderer, and I've got my own suspicions about that whole mess. Frankly, that's the least of the our problems now, though."
Pacing over to his desk, he flicked a hand, and a holoimage of the President's statement manifested in front of the two men. "Unsatisfactory, he says. Instability, he says! The pompous bastard! How dare he throw those accusations at me, when he can't even keep the peace in his own damn city." Growling under his breath, he took a moment to calm down, then continued.
"Very well. I will take your advice one last time, Mr. Zeister. However, I do not recommend your departure from the legation at this time, as it would seem I am unable to assure your safety."
With that, the heiros left to gather his troops and drive the rioters back. The push began with a loudspeaker howling into the night. "Disperse! Return to your homes and vacate the streets. Refusal to comply will be met with force. Disperse now!" The Legionnaires advanced out of the embassy tower, firing stun blasts, as snipers on the higher floors fired at those who tried to rally the crowed or return fire. Smoke choked the streets as the two sides exchanged fire and occasionally came to physical blows.
Chrysaor Castle
The soldiers held the line, fighting off some of the probing attacks as several mechanics managed to get a new track onto the Themis APC. Women and children grabbed everything they could from the kitchens and stores, throwing it into the back and gathering whatever cars and vehicles they could muster. It was obvious to the attackers, the Capitolites were leaving, but they were not broken in spirit. Grandma Garren was there in the thick of it barking orders and ensuring nobody was stood still waiting around.
As the bullets came in and were given out the last people were packed into the cars and vehicles, the Themis engine fired up with a throaty roar. The old woman clambered into the back, using the top hatches to shout orders. With an engine rev and the sound of tracks the APC rolled out, pushing one of the wrecked cars out the way as it led the small convoy on at speed.
Bullets came in, hitting some in the cars and ricocheting off others. Soldiers fired back, through car windows and from the APC. One of the automatons tried to stop the APC in its tracks but was smashed down and ground under it as it sped on. Everyone knew to stop now was to die and they floored the vehicles as they escaped, a few more down from gunshots. As they cleared the assault area they could relax, albeit little. It would be a hard journey.
Envoy Avenue
The situation through the main street was only getting worse as the revolutionaries came closer and closer. As they did, the more and more desperate foreigners, collaborators or political enemies and their families were becoming.
Discussions within the Union Embassy were, meanwhile, taking a turn for the worse. Tasimbi was prepared to contend and argue with Calico, but the moment the Carnaithian opted to insult and blame the leader of the loyalist paramilitary, the Colonel’s short patience evidently snapped.
Looking simultaneously betrayed and almost like he was ready to erupt into a slanderous rage, the Tesfeld Officer hissed back under a very controlled tone, trembling with submerged rage,
“If my forces fighting de revolutionary brigades on your doorstep are causing such trouble, den I shall leave you to fend for yourselves!” He spat upon the floor in a gesture of resentment before turning heels and storming out of the room,
“...Helping Colonials.. Diplomats…” The Colonel muttered as he marched down the hallway and away from the diplomats.
Shortly after Colonel Tasimbi’s departure, the news came that the paramilitary forces, serving as the only buffer between the rebel hordes beyond the embassy street and the diplomatic missions, were withdrawing. Hundreds of armed loyalist fighters made their departure from the situation without any warning or announcement and headed southwards to their holdouts along the South Bank.
The consequence was only more terror. Word of the embassy’s defencelessness spread like wildfire among the crowds who now felt more trapped and squeezed than ever. The once indecisive, undulating crowd were now turning into waves of people desperately rushing for any open entrance they could find, even if it meant being apprehended. There could be not trickling in, or threatening with danger anymore, the legations were going to need to accept the onpour of the desperate or to resort to employing lethal force to force them to respect the lockout.
Takenaka experienced success in rebuffing the intruders at one of the legation back entrances when he spotted them as the mass immediately scattered upon being spotted. But the moment the group dispersed, one figure was revealed. A Teliran like any other didn’t run, instead he drew a gun from under his coat and immediately raised it to raise fire upon the Jade fireteam. There were confirmed revolutionary infiltrators within the ranks of the refugees.
High Imperium Legation
Just as quickly as the information came on Zeister’s new orders, they were replaced by a new update from the central government, it simply stated,
“Disregard last order. Kommandant Zeister is to maintain his post until new orders are received. Hope is not yet lost.”
Soon after this message, news on the High Imperium’s next phase in its crackdowns made it clear on its effect. As expected, the precision strikes led to immediate terror and a collapse of organised action within the confident masses. Updates on civic destruction quickly dropped, but they were rapidly replaced by something else.
Units close to the border with the High Imperium’s legation neighbour, the Royal Federation, were now reporting that several teams of Royal Federation diplomatic security forces and legation police had crossed the border. They had already rushed to seize the closest major crossing points in the legation and were still advancing.
Now a flurry of desperate requests for orders were coming in on how to respond to this effective legationary invasion by the Royal Federation. No explanation had yet come, no declarations or ultimatums. It was now undeniable, the High Imperium’s control over its own concession was being contested by armed and trained troops amidst the chaos of the rioters, and the duo at the heart of it needed to respond quickly in whatever way they deemed feasible.
__
The Capitolite Convoy
With their homes in rubble, indicated by rising towers of smoke rapidly diminishing into the red dawn sky, the Capitolites were now on the move. Reaching one of the main, open boulevards of Kaban, they approached what remained of one of the city’s major roundabouts. It had now been reduced to a clothesline of draped protest banners draped from the monument at the centre of the circle; skirted by dozens of broken and gridlocked cars. From every direction, rioters jeered and threw projects to the uprooted Humans in their convoy.
For the exiles, there was a real fork in the road: Go North, to the embassies of the Union and Carnaith, and seek sanctuary with them. Or go South and attempt to cross the chaos of the bridge to the Southbank, to reach the Tesfeld Government and Zeister.
Orillian Embassy
As the robots watching over the Orillian urban fortress seemed to process their introduction, they remained in complete silence. Finally, the guards quickly backed up and made way as the figure of well-sculpted Orillian rose to the overlook. Peering down at the party, the alien’s face quickly curled with a smile.
“Well, well, well! My goodness, what do we have here…?” The Orillian sang with glee at the sight as his hands clutched onto the railings, “...Some lost souls in their moment of need?”
After a brief moment of silence, the smiling Orillian shouted,
“By all means! Let them in! Orillia does not overlook the downtrodden and inconvenient like their homeland’s government did.” He disappeared back down from the wall.
As the gates opened, the group was met by the Orillian now at ground level.
“My name is Mylixen, Minister Mylixen. It is a pleasure to meet you all… Despite the oppressive empire to whom many of you originate, but none choose their birthplace- Oh, don’t allow me to begin waffling.” He grinned as he energetically gestured for them to enter,
“Please come! We have food, drink, beds and medical aid should you need it. We have been fortunate in that the rioters have no interest in harming us- We do share a kindred cause, after all.” He explained, “Now don’t be afraid. Orillians don’t bite- Not unless you’ve wrong us, at any rate. I am fascinated to hear your stories, you must come to dinner with me.” He began to waffle as he guided the group and began to tour them through the Orillian central compound and to their guest residences.”
Envoy Avenue
Vitiri grimaced, looking down at the lukewarm coffee in his office. The glass behind him had suffered more scratches and one more crack, and the reinforced windows all around the building shared the same state. He didn't know how to feel about the situation any more. He certainly couldn't hate Lyk for angering Tasimbi. The security commander, along with a hulking Tunora who had gone out for supplies a few nights before - supplies that had, graciously, made it back, stood before him, the former leaning against the wall with a lit cigarette gently lighting his face while the Tunora stood at attention.
"Any ideas?" the diplomat asked, breaking the silence that had reigned for almost a minute now, thanks to the silent broadcasts that the television was tuned to. Padov sighed, shifting his weight as he stood straight.
"We'll have to start shooting soon, I think. The gas grenades are great for one-day riots, but I have to give it to the manufacturers... they mean it when they say less lethal. People keep recovering from it just fine, people aren't scared of it any more."
"Do we have rubberized bullets or something?"
"No. Those would kill anyways, given our guns."
"Barricades?"
"That we can try, but our security will still need to be carrying their guns now. We can perhaps improvise something that hurts for the riot launchers, but that will take another day at least," Aphkaral responded. "I can help with the barricades. There's a couple of crafstmen among the families, they could assemble the munitions." Alak sighed deeply.
"Liz." he said loudly, the building director poking in. "Take mister Aphkaral with you, he needs to do some talking with the people downstairs," he elaborated, his friend simply nodding as the Tunora veteran strode out, ducking and turning to make it through the doorway. "Mister Lyk..."
"Yes?"
"When you shoot, make sure the target was threatening."
Envoy Avenue
Khamir was angry at his compatriot, even as he watched the paramilitary forces leave the crowds were already beginning to panic. He had lost all hope at this point, resigning himself to his office where he cracked out a bottle of Mirach Red. They were not making it out of here, the crowds were too all encompassing, and the chaos was only spreading and getting stronger. The Union couldn’t save them, nobody could. This would truly be the end of not only Khamirs career but also his life.
Curse Volkus for giving him this post.
Below Calico was bellowing orders as the crowd rushed the entrance. The soldiers began to close the gate, but the weight of the people was intense. Some escaped through into the compound as two Union soldiers in power armour attempted to hold the crowd back, even with the strength added to them by their armour it was like holding back the tide. People were crushed underneath in the panicking horde and hands clambered to hit the soldiers and push them out the way. Calico, desperate now and seeing the gate beginning to strain muttered something under his breath.
He hefted his rifle and fired one round.
It was both a warning and a mercy killing. The plasma bolt struck an old man literally suffocating and being crushed to death in the crowd, ending his life instantly. He then fired another two bolts, each one into aggressive individuals at the front scrambling to drag his soldiers down. Switching his internal armour communicator to link to the legation PA system he began to shout.
“This legation is now closed. Remove yourself from access points and drop any weapons you carry. Failure to comply will result in lethal force”
HI Legation
Zeister had sneered at the order change. The High Imperium had only just managed to get a hold on the situation, their legionaries all too eager to crack down on critical points in the riots. He was not surprised, in a way the HI was like Capitol in the way it controlled its people, but Zeister knew how to respect others, how to respect an enemy. The High Imperium seemed to only feel contempt and superiority. Something that would get them killed here. Especially with the new missives.
“It appears your neighbours are making their moves” Zeister commented.
“What is the High Imperium’s official diplomatic response to such matters?”
Capitolite Convoy
The convoy had managed to escape, but they were far from safe. Soldiers leant out of windows or sunroofs with guns watching the protestors and other crowds around them, more than one round had been fired in order to keep them away from the vehicles. Grandma Garren was at the front, now a beacon of hope for the displaced legation the convoy knew that trying to cross the bridge would be a battle and a half, with no guarantee they would even be accepted. Trying to find Zeister meant trying to potentially find a dead man.
As much as they hated the idea, the Union and Carnaith embassies were their best chance.
So the convoy headed north, straight onto a road which appeared to have been semi cleared. A gun battle was going on ahead, maybe some others had managed to hold out as well, Grandma Garren ordered them forward, perhaps they could help the defenders and grab some supplies.
Orillian Embassy
Ophenia was under no illusion of what was happening. And neither were much of the staff or the students. Orillia had effectively been handed a silver platter full of their finest food to consume however they saw fit. A group of Union survivors with Union taught natives, it was practically their dream come true.
But they had no other option. The comments about the oppressiveness of the Union and the kindred cause made many of the students uneasy as they entered. The place was absolutely untouched and it was clear to the group as they entered that no doubt the Orillians were helping fuel and direct this entire chaotic eruption to their own benefit.
“I am Ophenia, lecturer at the Union university, these are my students and other members of staff.” Her voice was cold and untrusting even as they were hurried into the embassy and given the tour. The comment about dinner both made them uncomfortable but also was a shining proposition, they had not eaten well in some time.
ENVOY AVENUE
The main raised a pistol hidden within his jacket and fired, faster than anyone could react. The bark of his handgun was followed by a guttural scream from Takenaka as he fell to the pavement, blood spraying from his shoulder in an arterial jet.
Behind him, the marines' gunspears were already sweeping up, bursts of q-cyl drilling into the attacker and exploding inside him like a tiny saccharine fireworks display. His mangled body fell to the floor and the marines dragged Takenaka inside, slamming the door behind them as Marine Ulbatan ripped out his first aid kit. The red of Takenaka's duty fatigues almost made the injury seem mild, but the blood spattered on his pristine white body armour told a different story.
"Fucking piece of shit," cursed Takenaka through gritted teeth, his skin already paling and his onibi growing dim, "clapped by a god damn street rat, fuck me,"
Ulbatan was focused on unpacking a US-105 Arterial Location and Occlusion Tool, or 'Alot' as they called it, but another marine held the sergeant down.
"You'll be fine sarge, it's just a fucked up shoulder. Keep still! You've got enough blood inside you to make it, just stop squeezing it out!" she chattered, more to distract him than anything. Beside her, the little idiot-proof guidance holo beeped from red to green as its sensors located the severed artery. Ulbatan squeezed the trigger and the jaws eased shut, casing the damaged artery in biofoam. A few seconds later he found the other end too, having to dig a bit for it as it had retracted and prompting more curses from Takenaka. With the bleeding stopped, he dug out a sheet of US-160 Monodirectional Skin Analog Membrane, or 'em-sam', peeling it apart and slapping it over the wound. Its healing properties would probably be useless, but at least it would keep it clean until a proper surgeon could look at it.
The sergeant was out of the fight for now, his arm useless, and he would need real medical attention soon to prevent further damage to his arm, but at least he wasn't going to bleed out in this service stairwell. He was still looking faint and woozy, so Ulbatan gave him another shot of painkillers then wrapped a hasty sling to immobilise the damaged arm against the sergeant's chest, then helped him to his feet and threw Takenaka's other arm over his shoulder. The two of them gingerly climbed upstairs into the embassy, whilst one marine packed up Ulbatan's first aid kit and the other locked the door and toppled a bookcase behind it, wedging that into the doorjam of a side door to give any would-be rioters a tough time of breaking in.
High Imperium
The other man grumbled under his breath as the data updated in his HUD, then took a shot at rioter perched in a window. Tapping his comm, he answered Zeister from where the Kommandant had been patched into the network. "Officially we don't have a diplomatic response. I don't have the Legion troops to push back both the mob and the dammed Feds, and the regular units are already battered."
Cursing under his breath, he signaled an all-points retreat back to the Embassy tower. For all the chaos unfolding in the streets as the mob surged forward into the positions the Imperials were abandoning, the lobby of the tower was still a place of relative peace. Opening up the comm again to Zeister, he sighed. "I don't suppose you have any contacts over in the Federation Legation that could make them see sense?"
General
Across the entire city, the sounds of the riot were now unmistakably now sounds of a war. Crackle of gunfire had now been matched by regular explosions as the conflict evolved, as did the tools being employed. Nowhere seemed safe anymore. Even the Association Tower, that lorded over the entire city, was now beginning to be dotted with visible specks of broken, shot glass and spiralling pillars of smoke jutting from parts of its sides, presumably from missiles fired upon it. Still, it continued to stand and reports from its occupants continued to transmit, confirming to the rest of the city that they were not alone, and that others were holding out just as they were.
News from the central government had now shut down.
The situation on the southbank had gone from hectic, to incoherent, to completely discordant over the course of the morning. Now the government wasn’t responding at all. Some now said that they had begun a breakout attempt to save themselves, while others rumoured that they had been attacked. Whatever the case was, with a complete collapse of any leadership for what remained of the Tesfeld administration over Kaban, the demoralised, crippled and outgunned government units were now retreating from their posts across parts of the southbank.
But by midday, news indicated a change in this lull in direction. With another tremor-like explosions, that rocked almost everyone in the city, another of the bridges to the Southbank as obliterated. Social media claims also indicated that another, a drawbridge, had been lifted by the independent elements in control of it, in respect to new orders from the central government.
Whatever had happened over the course of this morning, the Kaban government had gone from unsure, unconfident and uncertain, to determined and almost fanatical in its bite back. Something in the capitol.
Envoy Avenue
The awful chorus of shouts and cries from the masses as they desperately trying to get their way into the legation was suddenly turned into a terrible cacophony of screams matched by the cracking of gunfire as the Union forces began surgically targeting certain members of the crowd. The response was, like a tidal wave, the sudden undulating of the mass of people forward and then away in every direction, like a flock of birds. People were pushed over, others crushed and injured underfoot in the frenzied rush for survival. Some people instinctively attacked the units with their hands or whatever they had in the confused anarchy. But within just a few minutes, what had been a completely packed street had been emptied.
What remained was akin to something after a battlefield. People wandered aimlessly and dazed, their faces plastered in blood. Limp forms of what had been people were strewn over the cobble and concrete of the road like crumpled puppets while the shot spasmed lifelessly; their legs and arms occasionally jerking like wounded animals. Everywhere came the sobbing, calling and moaning of those too unfortunate to escape from the carnage that had been triggered.
It wouldn’t become known what happened to those souls too unlucky to acquire entrance to the embassy or perish in an instant during the dispersal shots. Surrounded by violence, disorder and hostility, their hands now rested in the outcome of their desperate gamble to escape to somewhere else.
But now the avenue was cleared, there was nothing between the embassy forces and the approach of the rebel forces. No paramilitaries slowing and atrifying their advance; no refugees flocking and disorganizing the coordination of the compounds.
For the Jade team, things were not looking good either. Already another casualty to the list had been received. The surprised and panicked rebel infiltrator had quickly been turned into a red-mist, but now their limited numbers had already taken a battering. Retreating into the ancillary building to the embassies across the road, the Jade squad found the building almost desolate. Clearly an administration building, lined with offices, glass walls and storage rooms. What was perhaps most troublesome about the building is that, compared to the Union and Carnaithan embassies across the road, there was scarcely a soul inhabiting the building, nor any sign of significant garrisoning. It seems like this side of Envoy Avenue was woefully undermanned, deprioritized and exposed.
The lapse of the disorder would not last long, however. The first of the unstoppable flood of the discontented and rebellious were the impetuous vanguard. Men and women who, bolstered by the complete lack of resistance that Kaban’s local forces were now conducting, had taken the lead in finding whatever they could to fight.
Disorganised, leaderless on the large-scale, and unpredictable, these groups began showing their heads almost passively. They came wandering onto the street like they had before they had taken up their uniforms: Disarmed and weaponised with insults and threats. Then the taunts and jeers became scarce. Instead, the forward elements of the rebel masses began to establish a distance from the embassies. Some took pictures with phones from down the streets, some drone cameras also watched overhead to take videos, sent by either curious individuals or by the sinisterly organised.
Rebels began to show themselves in exposed positions less frequently. They instead began to peer from corners, through windows through doors or down alleyways. This silent watchfulness was a peaceful, if worrisome period. But by midday, the observers began to become more malicious in testing the embassy. Every half hour or so, units in the open began to be entreated by single, almost playful or experimenting shots from far off by assailants who quickly shrank like snails back into buildings or alleyways to the safety of the urban depths. The shots were so far, so rare at this point, and so unlikely to land hits right now, their only effect was to experiment, to bolster courage for the vanguard, and to shake the external posts of anyone outside of the buildings.
The attacks were here and, while weak now, were only going to get harsher.
_
HI Legation
With the High Imperium reconsolidating back at the ambassadorial headquarters, the rest of the legation was left to whoever had the power to rule the block. The Royal Federation’s advance, while securing a handful more buildings, had largely stopped. Reports of the Federation’s units setting up street-corner outposts with sandbags, wooden boards and crates would arrive to Zeister and Meltar. As would a missive signaled to the legation from the Royal Federation’s own office.
Its contents were simple: “Considering the perceived inaction, and lack of initiative, by the High Imperium Legation Authorities to establish justice over recent incidents. Considering the perceived instability within the High Imperium Legation Quarter. Considering the Royal Federation Legationary commitments to the stability of their surrounding environs. The Royal Federation Kaban Legation Quarter authorities have opted to request permission from the High Imperium Kaban Legation Quarter authorities, to establish an emergency international legation authority over each party’s respective concessions.”
“The Kaban International Legation will establish pooled resources to ensure the safekeeping and stability for all subjects entrusted with the governance of each legation quarter. With the establishment of a combined legation, both quarter governments will agree to a mutual emergency council with representatives from both government’s, as well as an invited liaison from the Tesfeld Union State.”
The note was polished, official, technical and rehearsed; it had been prepared. While all was painted with respectful request, with the context of the Royal Federation incursions, it was clear that this was a demand for a honourable capitulation to de facto control by the Royal Federation quarter.
__
Orillian Embassy
As Minister Mylixen toured the group through the Orillian territory, the Orillian muttered on about a multitude of things, moving from one topic to another before anyone could even inquire or speak to him about one. He floated from the Union of World’s in Ancerious, his humour at certain underlying similarities between Orillia and Natar yet their diverging approaches, his concerns at the destruction to the city, planned charity work and so forth. Ultimately he settled on the subject of the group themselves.
“...While i’m sure my superiors would be far happier to have you shut out and left to the devices of the city, I personally suspect that we all can gain from this meeting. Perhaps we can even make this a chance to show some civility in the face of the storm, no?” The Minister asked as he stopped at a long corridor filled with doors. Showing each one to his guests, the Orillian revealed room after room of well-let, furnished guestrooms.
“We usually reserve these for the press gaggle. But they’ve all mostly taken off apart from a handful of extreme-situation reporters from other ASN countries.” He observed with his hands planted politely behind his back, as the students and staff were given time to explore their quarters, the lanky Orillian turned his attention directly to Ophenia. With a more suspicious look now that the others were absent, the Minister questioned,
“If I may be so bold to ask, Madam, what were the names of those gentlemen that brought you here…?”
__
Capitolite Convoy
Barreling down the open roads, weaving past the wrecked forms of vehicles, the Capitolite Convoy tore northwards. Contrary to finding support, they were met by the sight of a vicious struggle between a small paramilitary militia, stuck far from the safety of its proper lines. Isolated and pocketed, the paramilitary were practically routing down the open street from the sight of what could’ve been a regiment’s worth of rebels. Only ten Tesfeld loyalists were left. Some sprinted, others tried to turn and fire rounds off at their pursuers, but all were mown down by the several repurposed civilian trucks and the MG’s mounted to them or the gunners leaning from them.
The moment the last man was shot down, the rebels spotted the Capitolite’s as they came rushing down the road towards them. It was too late to turn back now without stopping right infront of every gun on the street. Speeding through the scene, the Capitolite Convoy went on as Telirans jumped and dived to clear from their path. Instantly, the vehicles were subjected to a hail of bullets from rifles, submachine guns, shotguns and pistols. Even worse, all seven of the weaponised trucks were now in hot pursuit of the convoy vehicles as beginning to hone in and pick at the Capitolites. One of the drivers was visibly calling and reporting the situation as the desperate chase went on.
Grandma Garrens’ Force had thrown themselves into a gauntlet, and now perhaps taking the most direct, open main roads would spell heavier punishment by the rebels.
Envoy Avenue
The grim scene in front of the embassies was a jading one, and what couple of guards had gone out to confiscate useful items from the dead left behind or drag in the dying abandoned by the crowds had made their job a short one, rushing very quickly back to the walls of the Carnaithian consulate as the first of the jeering residents began to enter the area. As drones began to filter through the air, a sigh of relief was breathed by Lyk - if there was anything this place was well-equipped for, it was non-lethal means, and drones were easy pickings for their small selection of drone-jamming guns. Two men out on the balconies of the union building did this job admirably until potshots began to impact around the façade of the structure, marking the deployment of two more - a sniper and spotter, armed with hiking binoculars and a confiscated rifle once belonging to one of the private citizens the consulate now housed.
The rattling of gunfire and explosions was a familiar sound to a handful of these guards, veterans from one conflict or another. Lyk knew who he could rely on, but a lot of these guards were as green as the grass on Erdae-Terione. The sudden opening of significantly heavier fire and sounds of cars colliding not too far away was no comforting occurrence...
"Gods damnit," grunted Takenaka as he waited for Marines Appius and Hikenaji to clear the building. "We can't stay here. We have to get back to the main embassy."
"All respect sarge but shut up and save your energy," replied Ulbatan distractedly, gripping a short hikatana tanto sidearm in his free hand. "Come on."
Slowly, Takenaka struggling badly, they shuffled through the building, Ulbatan checking every corner even though the other two had already gone ahead with their drone and gunspears to scour out a path. The building was practically deserted, though Ulbatan had heard noises from the stairs to the basement briefly. If someone was hiding down there then good luck to them - so long as they didn't come up to take a peek at him and the other marines, they could stay down there for as long as they wanted.
When they reached the door to the far side of the building, they could see the avenue itself was practically deserted, littered with corpses of civilians and the odd rioter, bloodstains marking the high tide where they had surged against the embassy guards. Appius was on his short-range comms.
"Kato, come in. Kato! You there?"
After a moment Kato's voice answered.
"Appius, is that you? Where the fuck are you?"
"Across the street, just south-west of you. There's a dead guy with a yellow scarf right outside my window."
"Fuck, yeah I see you. Are you guys okay?"
"No, the sarge is hit pretty bad. We need cover to cross the street."
"They're taking potshots. Wait for my signal."
"Copy that."
There were a few minutes of tense silence as the team waited, Takenaka slowly growing more pale.
"App, I'm going to roll the LAV halfway into the street and give you covering fire. You guys have to run fast though."
The team exchanged nervous glances, but they had little choice. They heard the LAV rumbling and burst through the doors, Appius and Hikenaji flanking the others as they stumbled across the darkened street....
Calico watched as the crowd panicked and dispersed. The waves of people, those who were crushed, those more who were surgically cut down by his men as they attempted to fight. It was all like a blur, sound seemed to disappear, and his vision almost did not feel like his own as he put another shot into a man who tried to drag down one of his own men. He was almost a passenger in his own body as he reverted to his training. This isn’t right, he thought. He had just shot a civilian, that was beyond everything, it was the ultimate no go for a Union soldier. As the crowd finally dispersed and the scene of utter death and devastation spread out before him Calico looked on sternly, deeply troubled by what he had just done.
He understood the reasoning of course, logically he had made the right call, morally while in some doubt he had done the right thing in targeting those suffering only. But personally, in his very being he felt as if he had done something truly against who he was. He didn’t even notice one of his men shouting at him.
“Sarge! We have to shore up the barricades before they come back! Sarge!” He snapped out of his moment and nodded.
“Yes, sorry, have everyone grab whatever they can and shore up the gate and entrances. Ensure we have constant watch from now on” The gate had already been bent on its hinges from the sheet weight of people and now they began to reinforce it with extra crates, furniture and more. Anything that could help plug the gaps.
“They will come now in force. Everyone you now have a shoot to kill order on any individual out there who poses a threat. Use personal judgement I won’t chide you; we just need to make sure everyone survives this” Calcios voice was exhausted, and the faces of his men were the same. It was a warzone out there, and no doubt they would be a major target next.
High Imperium
Meltar read the missive, and snorted brusquely, then deleted the message, turning to one of his officers. "Do we have all of our citizens inside the tower?"
"Yes sir. Took some doing, but we got them all. Had to break a blockade a few blocks up, and some of ours were already dead by the time we got there."
The Imperial sighed, but nodded anyways. "Seal the tower. Nobody in or out. We can't go out and fight them, but I'll be dammed if I just roll over and let the Federation take over." The Legionnaire saluted and then left to organize a general barricade of the lobby doors while Meltar went up to the offices to speak with Zeister. No doubt the other man would be far from thrilled with his decision, but it couldn't really be helped.
With only thirty Legionnaires (Less so now, as at least five had died during the push against the rioters) and maybe half again as many in militia, he simply didn't have the troops to oppose both the mob and the Federation. This would have to do until the situation changed.
HI Legation
“Contacts in the Federation? Why would I have contacts in the Federation of all places?” Zeister looked confused as he stubbed his cigarette out. A moment later the terms were read out. Zeister wasn’t a fool, he knew exactly what it entailed, the Royal Federation would take over and have official control here from now on. The HI would effectively surrender control of their legation zone. But given the situation it wasn’t so much as a bad idea, Zeister didn’t even have any ties here anyway. As Meltar entered the room Zeister began to talk.
“I believe we need to consider-“
He was cut off as Meltar revealed that the message had been deleted.
“You did what?” Zeister started.
“You are well aware that the Federation will use this as some kind of international stunt? And that they likely have no qualms in blowing this building to hell, or even helping the mob do so? I’m aware they could also disarm us and leave us out to die but right now we have precisely zero options”
Orillian Embassy
The students and staff while wary and somewhat confused about Mylixens ramblings about all sorts of things were very much glad to be safe from the threat of being beaten to death outside. The mobs ravaging the city and baying for their blood seemed like a world away now within the embassy and when the ambassador showed them the press suites and offered them many were happy and very grateful to have them, uncaring as to the nature or who had given the gift. Basic furnishings and comfort were all they could have wished for. Even Ophenia who was exhausted and tired of being constantly on edge bowed out to the prospect of sleeping somewhere warm and safe.
“I believe that is a very apt plan, we will do what we can to help, and we thank you for this accommodation” She then smiled thinking of the two he spoke of.
“Oyle, he helped shelter us and keep us safe when we were attacked trying to make it across the highway, and Taliki. He helped guide us across the city in safety so we could make it to you. We owe both of them our lives”
Capitolite Convoy
One of the men in her own car took a bullet straight through the neck, spraying blood all over the inside and causing some of the civilians in the back to scream. The Capitolites fired back, a fierce volley of shots that traded as Capitol civilians were hit and as the enemy vehicles came onto the convoys tail the trailing car was torn apart by MG fire. Hitting its tires, the Capitol driven civilian vehicle careened into an already burnt-out shop front, everyone inside was either already dead or would be shortly. None in the convoy spoke up to try save them, they knew if they stopped, they would be dead.
A burst of fire from two Capitol soldiers on the roof of one car took out one of the heavy gunners but the return fire killed yet another soldier. Now even Capitol civilians were picking up weapons and firing back incoherently.
“Faster!” Grandma Garren commanded, levelling a pistol at a man with a rifle by the side of the road. He inaccurately sprayed at the car but went down as she put a round through his forehead.
“We have to be close now right ma’am!”
“Keep driving”
Envoy Avenue
The street was desolate as the Jade squad made their move. Almost immediately they were met by the cracks and whizzes of distant skirmishers trying to harass the Jade. None of the shots came close to meeting anything of significance. However, it was not the initial shots from rebels that became the glaring threat, but rather what hoved into view halfway during their crossing.
The Carnaithians had been right to take concern at the sound of frantic gunfire drawing ever closer. From the west, around a corner down the road, came the view of a large armoured vehicle, quickly followed by what little remained of a coherent convoy trailing after it. The entire group came storming forward like an unstoppable herd straight towards the Jade team. Like some kind of fiery demon, the vehicle spearheading the train billowed out smoke and debris from its sides that hurtled towards the squad at full speed.
From behind the line came the hail of MG and small arms fire that peppered the convoy; missed shots came flying by the exposed Jade squad. One Teliran civilian car with two passengers armed with submachine guns burst into flames beside the convoy and went smashing through a streetside shop window, sending plumes of black exploding from its engine.
The pursuers of this convoy, however, gave up their chase as their victims rushed into the safety of the avenue controlled by the diplomatic legations. Instead, they halted at their distance and dissipated back behind buildings and sideroads shortly thereafter.
The Capitolite exile community in Kaban, or what was left of it, had arrived.
From inside the safety of the Carnaithian Embassy, the civilian staff were now receiving a new update from elsewhere in the city. Since earlier this week, incoming calls, requests and inquiries had practically become silent. The reports of incoming calls from each day could practically show the city falling into anarchy day by day. But now a new transmission had come in, this time not from a random civilian.
It was from a corporate sector. The Private Council formed there by the area’s constituent high-rise enterprises had been holding off the anarchy seemingly well. But now a strange update had come.
The corporate sector was not in a good way, especially in the way of logistics. They simply did not have the storage or forward planning to host the people who had taken refuge there. To attempt a remedy for this, the Corporate Sector had outlined a new plan. They proposed the transportation of all non-essential Carnaithian and Union citizens currently residing within the sector to Envoy Avenue via a riverbound ferry supplied with armed security. The sector was also willing to part with a portion of its arms and munitions it currently possessed or had captured in exchange for consumables.
For the Ambassadorial side of the operation, the sector noted that the legations would need to resecure and hold the riverside so that the ferry could safely unload. The decision whether to go ahead with the proposal had been entrusted to the Carnaithians to determine, in consideration of the majority the Carnaithians had of the foreign refugees currently in the Corporate Sector.
_
High Imperium Legation
The situation at the Legation was ever-deteriorating. While for a few hours the Imperial withdrawal was met by uncertainty by the masses, who were slow to fill the vacuum of the areas previously under control by local law enforcement, the eventually came ever closer to the perimeter of the Legation’s center.
Still the Royal Federation forces did not step in. They neither intervened or aided the ongoing chaos in the High Imperium, but their region was still not as discordant as the Imperial Legation.
The strange, almost nonsensical transmissions from the Tesfeld government rapidly revealed their source soon later. By late afternoon, a new update had been sent to the High Imperial embassy, its contents simply read,
“The Kabanite Government recently, in light of current transgressions, has come to the conclusion that numerous elements of the Tesfeld Union State have been conducive toward the current crisis. Accused of corruption, treason and crimes against the Sasonish people, several dozen members of the Tesfeld government present within the Sasona region have been prosecuted for their crimes. These criminals include President, formerly Lord-General, Monatt, who have been removed from their positions in a struggle to resume functional and popular government.”
The message finished with a simple,
“Long live the people, long live Tesfeld. May love and peace reign.” Undersigned was the name of Superintendent Kmara.
Ten minutes later a second update came through,
“It has been brought to my attention that I may not have been clear on what has developed at the Capitol. This morning, President Monatt was shot while resisting arrest and his body has been cremated to prevent potential desecration attempts. The Kaban Police Department is now acting with executive powers until external support arrives or the situation within the city is pacified. An attempt to relieve and aid the High Imperium Legation will arrive within two days, until then the local legation forces are requested to maintain order to the best of their ability.”
The message was once more signed off by Superintendent Kmara.
_
Orillian Embassy
Minister Mylixen grinned and nodded,
“Excellent, excellent… Well, I am glad that your people are here… I’m sure you will find Orillian accommodation to be contradictory to what Colonial media portrays. Anyhow, we can discuss and debate that over dinner. But until then, I'm afraid I must leave your party to enjoy your own company. I have to attend to a review of our perimeter defences, go through a maintenance report of our automated units and inspect our compound generator systems.”
The Orillian gave a respective nod and smile and immediately began strutting off. Just as he was about to disappear out of the hallway, the minister turned,
“Oh.” He looked back, “I must request that you remain here at your quarters until you are brought to dinner, I'm afraid much of our property is off limits. Lots of dangerous equipment and rooms, I'm sure none of you want to get hurt.” He warned, winked, and left.
Envoy Avenue
"Get down!" Lyk yelled over the Carnaithian security communications network as the machine-gun fire reverberated down the street and ricochets began tearing chunks of concrete out of walls. The vehicles careening down the road were inaudible over the gunfire - until the one doing most of the shooting came to a violent end, leaving capitolites shouting in the road. Quickly as he could, Padov ran out of the front of the Carnaithian consulate, waving a torn white blind.
"Our door's open!" He yelled, recognizing the common plight between these people and his own. And the significantly less volatile situation outside of the building, per the sight of the bodies strewn about. "Park wherever, just get out of the road!"
He would worry about a head-count later, he thought.
--//--
Alak Vitiri sat in his office with Lizaki Mere, the latter of which was far more often too busy with dealing with the emergency residents to have any sort of a break. Lyk had been appraised of the situation, and simply responded with a "It's your call." Usual military. The choice was simple enough - they had an abundance of food, now that they'd gone out of their way to raid a grocery store, but the chase had shown what was going on; full paramilitary activity. Not that the MANPADS fire hadn't showcased that, but that was besides the point. They had the food, now they needed the guns. And that was an easy enough trade, but the call was the hard part.
Alak opened his computer screen, cleanly fitting into the desk when closed, and maneuvered the cursor to the transmission from the corporate sector. He didn't envy the face that welcomed him - furrowed with sorrow. Maybe some hate.
"Hello madam Kalmine," he said to the visage. "We've agreed to bring citizens and weapons to the embassy. I wanted to know if you'd be joining them."
It was all he could take to maintain the appearance of calm.
Envoy Avenue
Calico ducked as rounds came in, watching in disbelief as clear Capitolite forces returned fire with rioters and organised attackers. The Union guards looked to one another in total confusion.
“We aren’t letting them in are we sarge?” One said aloud. Calico shrugged.
“We haven’t got a fucking choice; a gun is a gun. Come on” He rose up, aiding the Carnaithians as they returned fire on the pursuers, the commotion outside attracting many of the civilians who watched carefully from holes in blocked off windows.
The remaining cars came in quickly, Grandma Garren directing them clearly as two cars pulled up directly in front of the main gate, blocking it for future defensive positions as military and civilian individuals rushed out, grabbing every single thing they had managed to stash into the vehicles and dashing into the safety of the grounds. Rounds came in hard, and several stood their ground firing back at the attackers as Grandma Garrens large military vehicle pulled up against the front gate. The Themis APC providing a veritable extension to the wall. She fired off bursts of HMG fire as soldiers and civilians disembarked carrying what few supplies they had.
The Unioners were immediately on guard, several Capitol soldiers instantly getting into a standoff with Union guards, weapons were drawn and pointed at one another.
“Let us the fuck in!”
“Hell no, butcherers of Asuras you can rot in those fucking streets!” Insults were flying until Grandma Garren finally dismounted, the only unifying thing was the combined firepower into the enemy cars which had been pursuing. She strode utterly confident to the armed escalation, grabbed one of her soldiers’ guns and threw it onto the floor.
“Put your fucking weapons down, we have bigger issues than our paltry generational blood feud” At her forcefulness the Capitol soldiers did so. Calico had come rushing over too.
“Put weapons down! That’s an order!” The Unioners reluctantly disarmed.
“I need to see your leaders. We have few supplies but brought what we could. Give my men a place in your defences, we will defend here with our lives. Allegiances don’t matter now, not if we want to live”
High Imperium Legation
Zeister folded his arms as the two updates came in.
“Well, that was extremely uniform and cohesive. Do you believe we will have aid in 2 days? And do we have the supplies to survive that time?” He asked Meltar clearly annoyed. No doubt Kmara had played him, probably some kind of power grab in the end.
He didn’t exactly blame the man; he would have done the same given their positions. Still, he had trusted Kmara, if he survived this and the truth came out, he would kill him all the same.
“I recommend trying to send a force to gather more supplies, we cannot be too careful. I volunteer myself to lead them”
Orillian Embassy
“I understand, thank you” was all Ophenia could manage. Already the students and staff were enjoying the basic luxuries. They took turns to take hot showers, cleaned themselves up, laid in well kept comfortable beds and fell asleep. It was perfect as a final retreat despite their questionable circumstances. And Ophenia knew Mylixen wasn’t as he seemed, she just hoped he wouldn’t be trying to use them to incite violence against the colonials.
One of the students put the news on, revealing an Orillian state media channel, discussing the damages wrought by the Union to various native states, who to Ophenias knowledge were actually prospering thanks to economic trade links.
It seemed a great deal of propaganda awaited them. But for now, she was eager to sleep, taking a quick shower she rapidly found herself in one of the beds. It took only a minute until she was out totally from exhaustion, the journey had been a tough one.
ENVOY AVENUE
The beleagured Jade squad hustled as the sounds of gunfire came closer, and when the mess of vehicles screeched around the corner they began a mad dash, practically dragging the injured sergeant. Kato traversed the co-ax towards the newcomers, but by the time she had lined up the Capitolites were already at a stop, the bravest local pursuers burning to death in a wreck behind them.
The doors to the compound slid open and Carnaithian soldiers yelled for everyone to get inside. The Jade dismounts limped through, Kato waiting for the bullet-scarred Capitolite vehicles to move in before reversing the Jade jeep in. The scene inside was chaos as the Capitolites, Carnaithians and Unionites yelled at each other, guns half-aimed at the Capitolites who reluctantly began hurling down their own weapons, the same guns they had used to fight their way to safety.
The Jade marines had no experience with Capitol, had heard nothing but the histories, and there was no antipathy there. The dragon-armoured marines worked their way through the throng, Marine Ulbatan hollering at the Union soldiers. "I've got wounded! Let us through, this man needs medical attention!"
HIGH IMPERIUM LEGATION
Meltar grunted as the communications came through. "Well, that's amazing. At least we have a timepoint now, I suppose."
Looking over at Zeister, he chuckled at the other man's question. "Not a chance between all the stars. They'll hem and haw and delay until either the riots run out of steam or we're all dead. If the riots slow down, they'll claim that they're restoring order when they fire off a couple dozen gas canisters. If we all get strung up by the mob, then it'll be a proud display of patriotic pride and rejecting colonial oppression."
When Zeister made his request, the officer frowned, troubled. "More supplies would definitely not go amiss, but I confess, I'm concerned about the political consequences if you catch a bullet out there. You can go, but I'm going to assign a bodyguard detail. Take five of the Legionnaires and as many militia as you think you'll need. We should have a truck or two in the lower level garage."
Envoy Avenue
The locals had more or less withdrawn to safety once the Jade and Capitolite units had sequestered inside of the ambassadorial compound. The pot-shots continued for a while longer until they too diminished. The drones sent to recon the compound from above were quickly handled by the Carnaithian security. Once the first drones had been interrupted, the others departed.
In the following hours, a new kind of harassment was employed by the besiegers upon the embassy. From complete quiet came a sudden, shocking screen of a megaphone from down the way.
“Attention! Union and Carnathian Embassies! The Kabanite Liberation Front is requesting you surrender your properties back to the Sasonish people! The KLF has taken control of the situation and is now directing the public toward constructive revolution! You no longer have to fear lawlessness! The KLF is offering safety, food and drink for your people in exchange for disarmament and surrender!”
“The KLF has no intention on exacting harm upon anyone who has not engaged in the murder of the Kabanite population! Those found irresponsible for the murder of the people of Kaban will be treated fairly! The KLF is setting up camps, and triage areas to provide first aid for injured citizens and embassy personnel. There is no need violence! Surrender will remain an option! The KLF has arrived to take control of the situation! Resistance and continued hostility will be met with deadly force! Freedom for Sasona! Freedom for all! Death to exploitation! Death to colonialism!”
Elsewhere in the compound, the scores of refugees now sat about and occupying the embassy were beginning to become restless from their own idleness. Stuck in lobbies and waiting rooms without news, information or directive, security reports were becoming more and more frequent of locals being found wandering corridors and rooms they shouldn’t be. Most of these trespassers defended themselves as simply being bored of sitting around, but others also admitted they were checking to make sure all entryways or potential break-in points were secure.
The idle local population did of course offer an opportunity of utility, potential as support staff or even provisional defence. But there was absolutely no telling if there were any more rebel sympathizers within the crowds, as the Jade had experienced in the alleyway across the road.
Vitiri’s feed came through after a considerable pause of interference. The other screen revealed the figure of a middle-aged Carnaithian woman. The fabrics of her blazer seem to puff out from the fur tightly packed into the business-wear. Madam Kalmine had become engaged in Natar as a privately-employed international liaison for the CRD employed to supervise Carnaithian behavior and activity in foreign locations, as a consequence she was already very familiar with Alak. With a look of frustration and annoyance, she briskly replied,
“Yes I will. We’re leaving shortly.”
There was a clear rattle of gunfire from her end of the feed. Evidently the fighting outside was far more desperate and heated there than it was at embassies right now. After a pause, Ms. Kalmine broke her silence,
“Tell me you have news about him.”
___
High Imperium Legation
The situation outside had, over the hours, solidified. Without any force breaking up the forming of crowds, the movements in the legation began to organise. Led particularly by the Kabanite Liberation Front, the riot had transformed the legation from discontented streets into a hotbed for revolutionary planning and concentration in the region. With the chaos now spilling out from the legation into the unprepared streets of the withered and fragmented Kabanite government. The advance of the masses was headed particularly towards the last remaining bridgehead to the Northbank. If this happened, then the spread of the rebellion to the South would become all but certain.
As chimneys of smoke rose through the High Imperium’s streets, stores were vandalized and pro-revolutionary posters were strewn about the place. Efigies of Meltar were now being burned out in the open as speakers stood atop stages, rallying the people to the cause of knowing exactly who they were fighting: The states that spawn the likes of Alhergus and Garren. Cracking open the last refuge of the High Imperium was increasingly becoming the focus for the rebellion in the legation. Crates brought out from storehouses and by smugglers in rowboats from up-river were now arming the people as some streets were now even being requisitioned by ‘Block Leaders’ of the rebellion to hastily train the rebel citizenry in the usage of their weapons.
The chaos was consolidating outside, and the Royal Federation was more than happy to watch and allow it to transpire for as long as the High Imperium did not respond to their proposals. They were instead more focused on constructing their own road-fortifications and sending out missions to acquire arms of their own from the smugglers to disperse to the local Royal Federationists emigre population.
__
Orillian Embassy
It was a few hours before a knock rang out at Ophenia’s door.
“The Minister will see you now for dinner!” A voice practically ordered. Whoever it was, presumably a guard, they sounded significantly less friendly than Mylixen had. Surely enough, the man outside was a stern symbol of Orillian regimentation. Adorned in ceremonial martial garb, he stayed silent and marched Ophenia to the dining hall.
At a long table filled with a variety of sweetened food, fried bugs and soups, sat Minister Mylixen waiting for his guest to take her seat. With a wide beam, he cheered,
“Come! Come! I am glad you are here! I’ve been waiting for our meal ever since we met! Please sit!”
An automaton pulled out a seat for her. Apart from the sound of Mylixen’s voice, the room was completely devoid of music, ambience or anything for that matter. Dark red curtains draped every windowless wall and gave focus for the more intricate features upon the table at the room’s center.
“I think I may have a way to get you to your country’s embassy. Not that I understand why your lot are so keen to get there…” He paused as he scooped some soup up with his spoon, blowing upon it to cool its temperature, “Especially when your country has just shot a score of Teliran civilians who had turned to the embassy to give them sanctuary from the anti-colonialists.”
Envoy Avenue
Grandma Garren stared at the clearly broken man before her. Calico merely looking on with exhaustion and concern.
Khamire was sat in his ambassador’s desk, cigar in his left hand and a bottle of alcohol in another. His dead eyed stare looking down on the desk. His hair was matted, and it looked like he hadn’t changed clothes, neither had he answered to the knock on the door. The poor ambassador who had footed so much change and co-operation on Natar was now reduced to this.
“Ambassador?” Calico tried again. She shook her head.
“No use. That’s a full mental breakdown, he isn’t helping anyone. You’re in charge now, come on. I will lend you all the weapons and supplies we have; in exchange you make sure my people get out just as much as your own. There won’t be any betrayal or bad blood from my side, I won’t allow it. I suggest you do the same” Calico found he surprisingly respected this old woman.
“I promise. I suggest we take up whatever positions we can, I also recommend we enlist the help of the population, they are itchy, we can have them help in medical and as lookouts” Grandma Garren merely nodded in response.
“Very well. Ill see to my own people, we will not fail anyone here”
Calico found one of the Carnaithian aides and notified her of the joint operations with Capitol, he did not need to do so with the Jade. They had no bad blood with the Empire and would likely see them as additional help. He just hoped old grudges would stay buried long enough to escape and survive. But he did not have time, rallying a few soldiers he went around the compound. Asking peoples skills and whether they would wish to contribute. He offered them to help treat the wounded, prepare rations and food, aid the weary soldiers on look out duty and assist in lugging supplies around to where they were needed. They had the manpower, there were risks of course, but the benefits outweighed those.
The loudspeaker was a problem, however. Already some were murmuring about surrender.
“Do not listen! It is a ruse! They would sooner see us massacred in the streets than allowed to leave. We must wait for proper extraction, only then are we guaranteed a proper exit from this chaotic city. Stand firm, do not let them rattle you” Grandma Garrens fiery rhetoric seemed to be getting nods of agreement from even Union troops.
High Imperium Legation
Well, Meltar was right about the supply drop for certain. No doubt it was total fabrication. Zeister knew how this all worked and giving false hope and reports was definitely one of them. Still he gathered his tiny smattering of things before bidding Meltar a nod farewell and making his way down. He had no wish to take a truck, it would be the most obvious thing in the whole city. Grabbing five legionnaires who he merely pointed at and gestured to come with him he didn’t bother with the militia. Every able body that could defend this place should stay here.
He only needed a small group anyway.
He quickly asked for the stealthiest way out of the building, being directed to a small supply hatch that they could crawl out of and make their way around.
“Keep low” He hissed as they moved across and out of the building’s grounds, onto empty and battered streets. He did not know these areas as well as he liked.
“Where is the nearest food store?” He asked one of the Legionaries.
HI Embassy Tower
The growing organization of the mob outside had only heightened the tension inside the tower, and Meltar ordered snipers to the upper levels to keep an eye on the street approaches. Several of his officers were lobbying for a push outside, but he'd vetoed them. As the mob grew and armed itself, the risks of getting caught in a crossfire and picked apart only grew. At least if the rioters wanted to take down the tower, they'd need to come at them head on.
Now to hope Zeister was able to get them some supplies. The Kabanites might be lying about the timing of relief, but no riot could be allowed to rage unchecked forever. Sooner or later, there would be an international response. He just had to hold his ground...
HI Forage Detail
The Legionnaire glanced around, then checked his map at Zeister's question. "Two blocks from here. Looks like it was a fast mart before the riots. No telling if there's anything left, but if there is, we should be able to get in and out without a hassle if we're quick about it."
Orillian Embassy
Ophenia wasn’t entirely well rested as she was woken. Groggily getting up she tried her best to make herself look presentable as she eyed the clearly disdainful guard with annoyance.
She however quickly followed, marvelling at the interior of a place that she would otherwise have never reached, let alone ever thought about entering. Taking a seat as given she looked around at the emptiness, taking it in. Ophenia knew that Celebranskt, their homeworld was a ruined stormy hellhole, but she had always liked to think the Orillians had well decorated homes within such. Judging by the martial and state focused hall it did not give her theory high hopes.
“Thank you for the meal” She said aloud before her eyes narrowed at Mylixens statement “Shot civilians? That doesn’t seem true, why would they shoot civilians?”
Envoy Avenue
Vitiri began to respond to Kalmine just as a quiet ringer distracted him, Lizaki hushedly going out to meet with the Carnaithian aide sent by capitol to update them on new plans. We need to set up an actual meeting soon, he thought. The ambassador had been given another split-second to collect himself, and took it.
"Nothing concrete. We've attempted to move through the city but it's not even safe going a couple of blocks. He stopped contacting us a short time ago." It was his politician shining... not that he didn't expect the woman, someone he had spoken to often, to see through the veneer.
"it does sound a bit safer here, I'd admit," the loudspeaker outside reduced to muffled mumbling through the consulate walls.
--//--
Lyk stood cross-armed before the locked junction box on the second floor, to his sides were two guards and a local who had come up under the pretense of using a less-busy restroom. The teliran's eyes avoided the Carnaithian lieutenant's, the flashing LED of a laser showing what had happened.
"This is a secure area." The officer repeated, turning his gaze to the guard who was meant to be escorting the man for the five-minute adventure upstairs before looking back at the local. "If you want to explore, I'll ask you to be useful instead of disruptive. Go back down there and rally who you can. Report back to me - following guard instructions. If you don't accept, you'll get locked downstairs again. If you go exploring after that, you'll get kicked out. In this situation, safety wins."
"Take him downstairs, I need to check with something.
--//--
Lyk stood on the balcony with the four other men, listening to the loudspeaker down the street. Chin cocked, his eyes turned to the dead locals still littered about the street, mingled about the parked vehicles and token exterior guard detail.
"Those found irresponsible for the murder of the people of Kaban will be treated fairly!"
hmmph
His eyes turned once again, now to the downed drones - plastic roll bars and guards mangled and snapped as they plummeted from the sky and came to a rest on the asphalt. One of the anti-drone gunners, six painted tallies on the tool of his trade, smirked in pride. Padov about-faced, patting the closest man on the shoulder as he went inside.
--//--
The lieutenant stood just inside the front door of the consulate, lobby manned by a whole squad of security - not even counting the pair always standing at the top of the stairs.
"You all have been identified as the most willing of our bored guests," he said, sweeping his sight along somewhat more than a dozen locals who had been staying in the building.
"You'll be splitting into three groups. Group one will be cleaning up out there - grabbing PPE and body bags, getting them presentable. Group two will be getting electronics... specifically the downed drones out there, and seeing if you can get any speakers out of adjacent buildings. Group three will be changing clothes and poking around in the adjacent alleyways, making sure nothing's getting planned.
"Group two will be growing and being re-tasked as the day goes on and others finish their tasks. Supplies will be provided and scavenged sidearms are available for self-defense if your credentials suggest you can be trusted not to shoot people at random."
Appius, Hikenaji and Kato all joined the ranks of the makeshift defenders brigade, taking in with faint interest the new uniforms as different groups arrived to add their firepower to the beleaguered foreigners. Some of the Jade had heard of Capitol's history, and their flag was occasionally seen in Jade ports, but they did not harbour the same antipathy, chalking the tensions between the old 2AW participants up to stress and general xenophobia.
Ulbatan took Takenaka to a makeshift medbay, where several other people were also being attended to. Luckily a Union doctor, whose job was normally to do insurance physicals and treat heart conditions in aging diplomats, was on-hand and was able to staunch the bleeding, although he was unable to save the limb.
Takenaka was unconscious by the time the doctor had to make the call, but Ulbatan nodded for him to go ahead. The Kokubusho usually sprang for pretty good replacement limbs, especially when the soldier had the potential to return to service afterwards, and it was better than dying of blood loss on what Ulbatan was fairly sure was a cafeteria stockroom countertop.
Kato and Appius picked a pair of windows on one corner of a second storey, near to a squad of Capitolites keeping watch over a long gallery window that led out onto a hideously exposed balcony. They took care, like the Capitolites, to stay back from the windows, watching carefully as the KLF in the far distance bellowed at the embassy through their megaphone.
Appius raised an eyebrow at Kato. "Sounds reasonable. Want to see what they've got on the menu?"
Kato rewarded the lame joke with a smile. "It's probably some local shit anyway. I'll stay here, thanks."
General
As day turned to dusk, and the overcast sky began to glow over the light of the red afternoon sun, the city seemed to quieten for but a few moments. That all changed at 18:00, to anyone standing at a balcony or window, the incoming terror was prewarned when over the cityscape rose a cloud of black and red that lept up towards the clouds. Yet no sound came, atleast, not for multiple seconds. Then, suddenly, the entire street was violently shaken as the embassy was hit by the crash of the explosion which rumbled half a minute after. Items on surfaces were jostled off the edges, some unreinforced windows in nearby buildings, facing the explosion, were cracked. Down in the embassy lobbies, children began to cry as panicked wailing broke out in terror of the roar from what could’ve been a bomb.
It took an hour for information to finally become available on what had transpired. Ammonium Nitrate at one of the old Kalethian plants out to the west had been completely obliterated by what had apparently begun as a fire from arsonists. KLF units had already initiated recovery efforts and assured their aid and support for the government, sending emergency fire and ambulance services to the scene. The central government had reportedly blocked such government aid from being sent.
Other news revealed that some other consulates and embassies in the city had now been completely overrun. Most notably, the Jade Consulate had now become occupied by the KLF as a rendezvous point for the organization of rebels into coherent units. Pictures from inside the place showed furniture that had been shot to pieces, a rock garden now covered in empty drink cans, bottles and a charred arbor that had been lit on fire and knocked over. Draped overhead of what had been the old consulate was now a sheet, with the words “NO COLONIALISM!” plastered upon it.
___
Envoy Avenue:
One of the stranger occurrences during these hours was almost as soon as the Capitolites arrived at the embassies. From out of nowhere, it seemed, a dozen Telirans ran out into the courtyard to meet the Capitolite survivors and offer their aid. They made it very apparent that they were members of the local TPF, the Tesfeld Patriotic Front, a Pro-Tesfeld Organisation that had merged its loyalism with Capitolitist ideology into a strange hybrid of collaborationism with Tesfeld rule and nationalism.
However strange their beliefs, they were more than happy to share their food and supplies with the Capitolite’s now residing at the embassy, who they regarded as heroes for the participation of Capitol mercenary groups during the old Sasona Separatist War in which the aforementioned mercenaries had committed multiple massacres.
Kalmine had closed off her transmission with nought more than a nod to Vitiri before ending the transmission without another word. News came shortly after that the Corporate mission was beginning to prepare for their river voyage. It was now down to the embassy to secure the riverside to the South and to bring supplies for the trade.
The cleanup of the exploring refugees went as well as one might expect. Noone revealed themselves to be hostile at all, besides a few who struggled with the guards taking them back.
Efforts to recruit the fidgety and ne'er do wells from among the refugees had resulted in mixed results. Nearly everyone was eager to get their hands on a gun to fight with, but no-one wanted to run out into the open street to rummage through dead people for items or to retrieve their bodies. In the end anyone pushed to be part of the Carnaithian Group Three quickly retracted their volunteering, eventually leaving the group with only three volunteers.
Others were more willing to retrieve drones and so forth, given that they had fallen into alleyways or within the courtyard. Still, no one was going out to the street. Their hesitancy proved to be a wise decision when, from across the road, a Teliran local ran out.
Dressed in torn casualwear, the man rushed from across the road from one of the ancillary buildings screaming,
“Let me in!” He cried. Evidently, his nerves from hiding in the unprotected buildings across the way had worn thin.
Before the man could even reach the entranceway however, he suddenly flopped to the floor lifelessly as his head abruptly cracked at a 90 degree angle with a cloud of red plume erupting from his side. His ragdolled body crumpled down instantaneously as the crack of a gunshot reached anyone observing. The man had been cleanly sniped down. Quickly after, sniper fire was sent, hailing towards drone gunner positions and anyone else seen at windows or balconies. The firing was methodical and continuous, consistently either landing its target or near to them. During the suppression, two drones came hurtling forward. Armed with only cameras, the drones did nothing but shoot photos and disappear amongst the chaos.
At last, the onslaught of sniper fire came to a halt after nearly a minute of shooting when the sniper closed off his harassment with one, single shot. With a final crack, the sniper’s round landed straight into the window of the balcony door for Khamir’s office. The reinforced glass immediately began pale white with a web of cracks that surrounded the impact point. The bullet had firmly lodged itself and the glass had done its job. Had it not done so, the round was on a straight trajectory course for the disoriented ambassador himself.
Finally, the marksman ended his short but alarming assault and left the embassy to recover.
In the wake of the commotion, no one at all was willing to head outside of the compound into the open road. But Group Three still went ahead with their objectives through the back alleys as recon. Heading out through the backdoors, they disappeared into the urban labyrinth, vowing to return in a matter of hours.
A few minutes after the panic had come to a close, the loudspeaker from down the road warned,
“If your people do not surrender themselves into our custody within the next four hours, we will be forced to retake this street by force. You are warned!”
HI Embassy Tower:
Trouble at the tower atleast seemed to be at a bare minimum for the time being. The Imperial withdrawal had the fortunate side effect of taking the wind out of the sails of the rioters. The sense of excitement and violence had, in the void of confrontation, deescalated people out of taking further initiative as they convalesce in the streets outside. For the time being atleast, no one was going to instigate an assault until things could become further organised and prepared.
News that such organisational buildups, however, were indeed transpiring elsewhere in what had been the legation. Although what those preparations were planning to do was unclear. They were presently stuck to delegating roles from certain ringleaders, training people and creating makeshift weaponized devices for the upcoming conflict.
Legation streets
There was a supermarket, originally a Teliran shopping location between the area had found itself technically in an entirely different country. The reduction in traffic had sent the store over the edge and it had turned to being directly owned and funded by the Imperial legation government as a local foodstore for the legation residents.
Now, standing across the road from its open car park, it seemed like little remained. Half the building collapsed in on itself from the smoldering embers of a fire. The other half, what had presumably been the shopping aisles, visible through the shattered and broken glass walls of the store, was now filled with looters who squabbled and struggled with one and other for supplies. There was going to be no sneaking into there, either they would need to continue their search or forcefully disperse the company.
Orillian Embassy
“It seems to me that they couldn’t keep order among the refugees trying to seek safety and so they opted to disperse them by firing upon them.”
He gazed downwards to his food, “It personally doesn’t surprise me, I recall similar things occurring during the AGA occupations.” He leant back, “There’ll always be an excuse, ‘a reason’, there’s no other way to bypass the morals such powers espouse without revealing their own hypocrisy… That they’re only willing to keep to morals when it is most convenient.”
He took his chalice of wine and took a sip, his lips curling into a grimace of bitterness, “...But when it’s some little person in need, those principles can be overlooked because the little person doesn’t matter in the grand equation. That’s why the AGA left Orillia to rot but spent every effort on Capitol, was it not?” He shot a glare over towards her, “That’s also why the Union has been so willing to deal with the ASN and its member countries: Kalethia, Tesfeld and so forth - Even when they’re trampling on the face of an oppressed native group to this continent.”
Mylixen was clearly winding himself up now as his eye twitched with anger; dwelling on his own words, “Because Capitol was significant and known, Orillia was not. Because the ASN had power, and Sasona is barely even heard of outside of this world. The fundamental Colonial principles of distant and impetuous central governments no longer matter when the people who need them can be so conveniently pushed aside or knocked down…” The ambassador spat out his final words, “…Just like those refugees.”
The Ambassador took the spoon for his soup, refusing to look up at Ophenia anymore as his hand hovered over the bowl. There he had waited for a minute in complete silence as though he were trying to muster the strength to start eating. Instead, he suddenly slammed the utensil aside with a metallic clatter before planting his face into his clawed hands. Judging by how low the wine bottle was beside the Orillian, he had been drinking long before Ophenia had arrived.
Mylixen stayed there, shuddering and heavily breathing until he finally looked aside; his head shaking, sniffing, he grunted out from across the room,
“I ought to be happy, you know? Everybody back home will be.” His face turned to the Unioner, there was no sign of false friendliness, diplomatic showmanship or deception in his eyes anymore, just a grim look of depression and disgust now, “I even said this could happen and that it would work to everyone’s advantage…”
He halted himself, “...But deep down, I think, there was a part of me that wanted to believe that it wouldn’t. That I would be proven incorrect and that, rather than hypocrites, your peoples were idealists and moralists to the end… Even if it meant cramming their embassies with more than they could hold and dying together…”
“...But you proved yourself to be far worse than that… You’re pragmatists in saint’s clothing. No better than that maniac Tetlisun running the show over this corrupt, imperialist little menagerie of ‘virtuous’ powerful people trampling on the helpless little.”
Mylixen left the room in silence, gradually sighing,
“I’m sorry. None of this is your fault. You shot no one… And your people are just as helpless as those refugees, or my own people after the Second War. I shouldn’t have invited you to this… You can… You can go back to your room.” The dead-eyed, embittered Orillian mumbled; his head returning to his hands.
Envoy Avenue:
“Everyone alright!” Calico shouted as the rumbling of the detonation had rolled over the embassy, broken glass and other small objects which had smashed lay on the floor and Calico himself felt his ears ringing. Grumbled groans and acknowledgements came in reply as Calico already started directing civilian volunteers to help clean up the glass. This however was expediated when one of the Capitol soldiers did the same, and the TPF individuals swept down to assist at a rapid pace. While Calico was glad to have them on their side, he did not trust the TPF or the Capitolites entirely. Too much bad blood, but Grandma Garren as they called her was true to her word, she was no-nonsense, and he could at least respect that.
The burst of sudden fire however alerted the sergeant and other soldiers who rushed forward, only to take cover as the precise fire came in. He watched the man who had begged for entry get shot and shouted for everyone to get down. The sharp crack and impact above him however caused Calico to look up at the ambassador’s office, the barricaded window now with a large fracture from a bullet impact.
“No!” The sergeant rushed back into the complex, heading up stairs packed with civilians huddling and scared. He entered Khamir’s office with two other soldiers who had been next door and he breathed a sight of relief to find that the bullet had not made it past the glass. Khamir was no longer in his chair, instead huddled into a corner near one of the bookcases, softly sobbing to himself. Calico sighed.
“You two, take care and console him.”
“Yes sir” His attention was again diverted by the loudspeaker down the street. With a grimace, he called for the leaders of the respective groups, including any who wished to speak for the civilians. The assembled in the main lobby.
“We cannot surrender, they would kill us all in a heartbeat” The old Capitol woman stated flatly. Calico nodded.
“I agree, surrender will result in our annihilation and the lives lost of many here. I know we may well be overrun and killed anyway, but if we can try to hold off the insurgents for long enough to get the civilians out, somewhere that’s not here…” He was wishfully thinking.
Legation Streets
Zeister grimaced at the sight. Nothing was ever easy these days.
“We go in, disperse the crowd. Once their gone gather anything you can find and immediately withdraw to the legation tower. If there is nothing left, we regroup and move on, understand?” He was met with simple acknowledgements from the Legionnaires. They were not his Capitol soldiers, but they would have to do for now. Zeister drew his pistol as the others readied weapons, breaking cover Zeister didn’t bother with diplomacy.
His first shot took a looters head clean off, and he was already firing as the legionnaires broke cover and fired. There would be no subtlety here, either the looters were rapidly killed, and they grabbed what they could before a mob turned up or they could have failed to kill one who would report their position anyway. Better use the force available to them now.
Orillian Embassy
The assembled students and remaining staff were already on edge as they had taken their seats and begun eating only to stop when the tirade had begun. Most already knew this was going to happen, Orillia was so polar opposite to the Union in terms of alignment that Ophenia even felt that dealing with Capitol would have been easier. At least the two sides in that conflict understood their positions and outlooks very clearly, but the people of the Union did not understand Orillias plight.
The Union had bled people, resources and more trying to liberate their nation, had given them loans and support in the rebuilding. All to be forgotten and replaced with vicious vitriol. Even as Mylixen spouted his anger and ideological expressions Ophenia felt sorry for him, he was a victim in this as much as any of them.
One student had moved to speak out amid the tirade, likely to counter what the Orillian had been saying, but was quickly shut down by a firm look by one of the staff. It would only inflame the situation and make it worse. Silence stood as Mylixen bashed the table, before moving to leave the room. Ophenia then spoke.
“I understand your despair ambassador, this whole situation is more than any of us and has only brought out the worst of desperation. I understand your anger, but I thank you for knowing that we, personally are not responsible for the troubles going on right now. And I still wish to thank you for your hospitality.” She stood up, her meal at least partially eaten, and nodded to the others who did the same. Politely and calmly leaving the room, still on edge.
Envoy Avenue
Alak stood cross-armed and tired in the meeting, with Lizaki actually seeming of good spirit considering the circumstances. None of their men had been killed, though some of the anti-drone guns and their users had been hit. What thermal cameras could be spared from the Security arsenal were now sat behind the Carnaihtian building's bulletproof glass, scanning the buildings in view as snipers sat behind pillars along the front of the Avenue. Forensics was quickly putting together the last position of the sniper, or snipers, but if they were even half-intelligent they wouldn't be there any more.
"Protecting ourselves will be... easier in comparison to running out somewhere, but we've got more coming in. The corporate area down the river is sending up a boat with people who think they've got a better chance with us. I'm worried if their arrival ends up about the same time as the proposed deadline."
"I'd like Lyk to be here, but-"
Mere was cut off by the sound of another loudspeaker outside. The voice of the Carnaithian Lieutenant.
--//--
Outside, Padov stood above the dead Teliran, shot dead by the sniper. He was unarmed, a ballistic plate covering his chest, but his holster was empty and no weapons were slung on his shoulders. In his left hand, a megaphone pointed down the road towards the nominal position of their assailant saviors.
"This man was not shot by us," he called out. "Either your own shooters killed him, or you do not control the area well enough to guarantee our safety. We will not leave our buildings unless a delegation of officers is sent to meet us." He hung on the words for but a moment, Eying the buildings. He would not wait for a response, and would begin to walk back to the consulate in mere seconds...
Yoshida nodded his agreement. Surrender was not an option, neither practically nor for the Jade Marines. Being defeated in battle by a worthy enemy was permissible. Jade Marines, samurai, meekly surrendering their arms to a rabble of low-grade commoners was not.
No doubt if Takenaka had been present he would snarl something suitably bloodthirsty about dying atop a pile of Teliran corpses. Yoshida settled for something more diplomatic.
"Surrender is not our best option," he said, speaking slowly, "My Marines will fight to the last to protect this embassy."
Legation Streets
The Imperial soldiers were quick to comply with Zeister’s order as they followed his example and began firing upon any looter who hesitated to run. Teliran civilians scattered in all directions as some crawled, clutching their wounds; desperately trying to call for help as the legation’s team approached.
It took no commands for the squad to begin their mission of collecting what few things they could carry on their personage without disarming themselves. There was remarkably few supplies left; it was clear that they were the vultures in this scenario now, scrambling for what few slim pickings remained.
Suddenly, from a trooper’s communications called through the rattled voice of Meltar, who was evidently not in a very relaxed mood right now,
“Recon Team, please tell me you have some good news because right now it looks like we are going to require your assistance. Rebel forces are amassing outside the HQ’s outer perimeter and taking positions. It looks like they’re coming with a plan.” He informed the group.
Indeed, hundreds of bandana-clad revolutionaries were now beginning to advance, slowly but surely, through the streets leading to the Citadel. Using cars, alleys, windows and bollards as cover, they came largely armed with shoddy automatic rifles. But among them came men and women wielding molotov cocktails, sniper rifles and even the odd AT gun shipped in specially for the armoured suits many of the colonials had come to be known for wearing.
The rebels were about to begin an assault.
Outside the shop, Zeister too could see that his excursion had not gone unnoticed. From vantage points, rubble and wreckages, rifled Telirans were taking up their positions surrounding the Capitolite officer’s position. If he was going to return to the citadel, he was going to be harassed all the way there.
_
Orillian Embassy
But a few hours after Mylixen’s breakdown, the staff of Ophenia’s party, and Ophenia herself, were once more awoken. Gathered in the lobby, they were met by Mylixen, notably less proud-looking, who was dressed in a bathrobe,
“I called you here because i’ve just received word that our neighbour, the Corporate Sector, is preparing to soon send a barge down river to make contact with your besieged embassies.” He looked among the academics,
“If you intend on continuing onwards back to those maniacs in that compound, then this is your chance.” He paused, raising a hand to assertively declare to Ophenia,
“But when I say they’re doing this soon, I mean soon. If you intend to rendezvous with your legation, you need to get your people together and go: Now. It leaves in less than twenty minutes.”
The corporate barge was already preparing to take leave and, if the party were to take the Orillian’s advice, they would be to catch it just minutes before Mrs. Kalmine’s mission set off.
__
Envoy Avenue
Efforts by the Carnaithian ambassadorial forensics and sniper teams confirmed that the marksman who had caused such grief for the embassy a few moments ago had since departed from his position, at least, for the time being.
Padov’s own response to the attack was met by a response equally provocative. As his speech came to a close, from down the road, out of the sightlines of the terraced embassies, rang out a single shot. The bullet clipped the Carnaithian’s loudspeaker and sent it fizzing and shattering to pieces, presumably from the same marksman as earlier. No shot came after, and Padov was left to return back inside freely, but the message was clear.
Little else happened the rest of the following hours. But once the deadline for the legationary surrender had ended, activity began to rapidly accelerate. First came the return of the potshots, shots that cracked and battered bulletproof windows and aimed to suppress any openings to the embassy compound from which the defender’s could fend off a potential advance unmolested. Aside from this, it looked like the initial attack was absent of anything significant. But it soon became apparent what the first move of the rebel assault plan had consisted of. Gunfire now no longer came from alleyways and from down the streets, but now from dozens of figures that now rushed from window to window, door to door, and over the rooftops of the ancillary buildings from just across the street.
Without any garrison protecting the opposite side of the road, the rebels had quickly gained an easily defensible, and covered, position right in front of the embassy. The Teliran rebels were quick to open their hailfire of close-range small arms fire from across the road. With multiple multi-storey buildings a single road’s width away from the Carnaithian and Union embassies, the rebels had the vantage points necessary to fire downwards upon the legation courtyard.
Anyone caught outside of the besieged embassies were now succumbing to a maelstrom of lead if they were not quick or wise enough to retreat into the safety of the embassy walls.
From the other direction, bashing against the metal doors of the back alley entryways returned the Teliran volunteers for the Carnaithians. Some battered, others wounded, one had their face gored by a bullet and yet was remarkably still on his legs and shambling through the door,
“T-they…” A man wheezed, gagging as he tried to throw up onto the floor from shock, “...They’re rushing towards the alleys… I… I- I think t-they’re- fuck-” He gasped for breath, “...They’re bringing up some kind of charge with them… They want to take the alleyway entrance…”
The Carnaithian armed militia, while admittedly small due to the screening and limited armament process, were nonetheless quick to leap to their toes.
“COME ON BOYS!” A Teliran in his 50’s practically screamed over the commotion of the refugee crowds as he took his sidearm and two magazines. His compatriots one by one grabbed their weapons, “WE STAND OUR GROUND OR THIS PLACE WILL BECOME YOUR COFFIN!”
From the ends of the alleyway emerged lines of bandana-clad Telirans, mostly equipped with submachine guns, pistols, and even some clutching machetes and other melee items as they advanced on the Carnaithian building’s rear. The defenders would need to either open up and repulse the attack, or risk the rebels now closing right upon one of their walls.
Hovering overhead came a legion of drones for the Carnaithian anti-drone team to counter. It looked like they were coming in swarms: A mixture of camera drones, with bomb-equipped recquistioned delivery drones disguised among them to screen their advance on the embassy.
Amid this multi-pronged assault came the shut-off of access to the city powergrid. In an instant both of the diplomatic buildings, whose architecture predated Natar even entering space, were plunged into darkness. The embassies were now either out of a power supply, or now dependent on in-house generators or night vision. Few Telirans seemed alerted by the power outage; they were, after all, nocturnal, but perhaps that made it all the more troubling. Natives could see much more easily in the dark than a Human, which made illumination all the more essential.
With all directions now under assault, it was the Ingenese and Capitolite squads at their windows, under constant attack from the ancillary buildings across the road, that were able to get a view of the last component to the rebel attack en-route towards the embassy. From down the road, behind the barricades and makeshift glacis, the rebels looked like they were amassing what looked like ladders, an HGV, and people numbered in the hundreds, with potentially thousands further down the road.
"Gods damn it," grumbled Yoshida, a wave of nausea rolling over him as he was plunged into darkness, potentially fatal to his species. He fumbled in his pocket and snapped an emergency glowstick, feeling relief as the small light bathed his skin in a pale blue glow.
Outside, the three marines similarly cursed, ducking down briefly, although light still reached them from the city beyond, the lights of other buildings and distant fires granting them a faint yellow-orange reprieve. Nevertheless, they felt a weariness settle like a shroud over them, as if they had not slept in a day.
Hikenaji called the other two on their short-range comms, peeking momentarily through a corner in the panelling of a balcony down the street.
"Something big going on down there," he said warily. Kato glanced through the window and spotted the big semi lining up.
"Yeah that can't be good. One sec," she said, tugging a grenade from a pouch. Like most Jade grenades, it could be set to manual detonation, but she felt the ache in her shoulder even as she tossed it, testing the weight. She could see where she wanted to plant it, a shallow pothole in the road caused by something or other, just enough to arrest the grenade and shadow it from anyone approaching, but she lacked the strength. She glanced around the corridor, looking for someone else to help, spotting a friendly soldier who looked like he had a good arm.
"Hey, you," she said, getting their attention, "think you can land this in that little uh....uh....hole? There?" she asked, her Common failing her momentarily.
Envoy Avenue
As the agreement not to surrender was reached the remaining hours counting down to the embassies surrender ultimatum were spent shoring up defences, reinforcing doors, creating barricades both inside the embassy itself as well as in the grounds and securing the supplies and remaining military gear in one place. Soldiers were finally let off in groups for rest, and while it wasn’t a long while to get proper sleep it would at least help them when the time came. Nobody was under any illusions; this would be the time when they tried to destroy them utterly.
Everyone however was up and ready for when the deadline came, the pot-shots and sudden activity awakening any who had tried to get every second of rest they could. Calico was up near the main gate, still blocked by the now pretty much immobilised bulk of the Capitolite APC and shored up with detritus and rubble. Everyone had their heads down as the shooters kept them suppressed, but calls were already coming of shooters moving int position across the street, they were going to get plunging fire into the compound. That was a problem.
The warning of such was already being given before the firestorm opened up, one of the Union marines without his power armour was shot to pieces along with several Teliran volunteers in the open, defenders scrambling for cover out of the line of fire.
“Get down!”
The humming followed of numerous drones, the Carnaithians were doing their best but there were so many. A small charge went off near Calico, dropped from the drone even as the power went off completely. He knew this was it, they wouldn’t relent now. This would only stop when either side was dead. Shouting followed warning of an incoming vehicle too, something large. Calico cursed, they were going to use it as a ram, either to push the APC out of the gate or to just ram it through the legation wall and create a new opening.
Return fire came from the Capitol and Union groups, precise and focused on the main threats that were suppressing, eventually one of the Capitol soldiers climbed onto the APC, taking control of the HMG that was still mounted atop it and surrounded by basic rubble and anything that could be used as a makeshift shield. He opened fire on the incoming HGV, targeting the cab and hoping that the heavy rounds would tear through the driver and engine block. It was there only chance to try and stop it.
Meanwhile inside, one of the Union soldiers who had been consoling Khamir raced over to Yoshida as he called them out. The man nodded at the comment about the grenade, picking it up, testing the weight and allowing himself a moment before throwing it down into where Yoshida had pointed, it wasn’t perfect and landed just next to the hole, but it was a good throw otherwise.
Legation Streets
Zeister expected return resistance but not as quick as had appeared. Shots had come in at the HI soldiers now and while some of them had managed to gather a handful of basic supplies it wasn’t enough. Meltar suddenly ordering them all back angered him.
“We have some supplies, but we will be slow to return, we are already under fire, and it will only become more intense. If they have a plan you need to plan, I cannot hold your hand forever” Zeister cut the line. The HI legation was going to be a death-trap, and Zeister wasn’t going to listen to any traitorous Teliran superintendent. He needed to get back to his people, he needed to cross the river.
“You, plans changed. Gather those supplies and come with me, we are going to assist the Capitol legation. Once they are assisted, we will use the APC and assist your own people” Zeister watched as the HI Legionnaire glanced to the others.
“Those were not our orders from our leader”
“Plans change. Going back their won’t save you and we will likely be shot to pieces all the way anyway. If you come with me, we might just live and manage to get help for your people. Or you can go back and die before you even get to have a heroic last stand, choice is yours” Three of the Legionaries shook their heads and moved out, clearly not interested in assisting Zeister, but the others stayed.
“We only do this to get help for our people. Now lead the way”
Orillian Embassy
The encounter with Mylixen had troubled Ophenia and she hadn’t been able to get much in the way of rest when she had been returned to the group. Telling them about it many of them had also been confused, why would Mylixen treat them like that?
It became even more strange when they were assembled in the lobby, the whole of them staring up at the Orillian with visible confusion. When the ambassador however stated the situation many of the group turned to look at each other with a faint spark of hope. Would they be able to go home? But was the Union legation even still standing?
“Go, grab all your things we will leave immediately and get on that barge” Ophenia directed the group as the individuals scrambled to grab what they had brought with them and get fully ready to leave.
“Why do this?” Ophenia asked up at the Orillian “Why not use us as pawns and ammunition? Why help us after all this?”
Envoy Avenue
The Carnaithian forces were more professional than the native paramilitaries; more accurate, more disciplined. Their snipers stood far away from windows, limiting angles and natural lighting to where only their target could see them... and only with their own NOGs and scope. Helmets and optics were already distributed to the imperial defenders, in-built night vision and communications devices maintaining their ability to work together. To the front, magnesium flares and smoke grenades were fired into opposing windows to obscure the assailants' view while back-lighting their silhouettes in windows through the smoke. To the rear, a squad armed with SMGs and riot launchers stormed the alleyway with the native militia alongside.
Anti-drone teams had the luxury of not having to be precise with their aim; wide-band counter-signals meant they could simply sweep the sky with the devices, but the fact that they had to limit visible angles meant that they couldn't shoot down all of the devices. Munitions crashed against building fronts alongside the dead husks out of the swarm and cameras, though silent given the torrent of fire, rolled footage of the defenders.
Lyk looked down the road from an obscure angle through a cornershot device, muttering to himself. "We need explosives," he called out. "Or otherwise lethal crowd control. See if anyone can make something big."
HI Legation
Even inside the embassy tower, Meltar could hear the rumble and shouts of the crowd as they approached. Checking the display, he grimaced as the icons denoting Zeister and two of his troopers peeled away and took off across the river. Not entirely unexpected, to be honest, but it was still one more problem in a growing host of them. Switching over to his soldier's comms, he gave the command they'd been waiting for.
"Open fire. Priority targets are any hostiles bearing anti-armor weapons as well as explosives."
Ripples of sniper fire began raining down from the tower, darts of plasma hammering into the crowd and shattering windows. In the lobby, the last pieces of the makeshift barricade were laid in place and the militia troopers huddled down in cover. Further back towards the elevator banks a second barricade had been set up with a score of Legionnaires in position behind their shields.
The embassy was as defensible as he could make it with the forces he had to hand, but it remained to be seen if it was enough. Taking a breath to center himself, Meltar locked his helmet in place and grabbed his gun. Time to remind these savages who the real powers in the galaxy were.
Envoy Avenue
The instant the firefight began, the crowds of refugees lingering within the halls of the embassies burst into a frenzied orchestra of cries and screams as people scrambled for somewhere to hide. Children wailed as mothers did their best to console them over the eardrum-shattering chaos. The courtyard had almost instantaneously became the most deadly place for any consulate occupant to be located as it became strewn with the tiny craters of bullet-holes. There was no uncertainty this time. Despite the embassy’s passionate retaliation of fire and grenades, the onslaught from the fore-front did not stop. Locals who collapsed from the windows across the street were simply replaced by another who picked up their gun and continued their offensive.
It was the Capitolite who raced for the LMG that would buy every other defender some reprieve and, perhaps more importantly, hope. Firing upon the HGV that came racing down the road, the unprotected frontal engine of the machine was instantly torn to pieces; as was its driver. The screeching behemoth still came hurtling forward down the lane until it abruptly swerved right and bashed into a building opposing the embassy; its cabin bursting into flames. From the back of the vehicle, like a nest of awakened ants, gushed two dozen more rebels who emerged with guns of all shapes and sizes. Exposed and clueless, the rebels tried to shoot at the defenders from their open position. Confused and unprotected, these would-be besiegers found themselves quickly being cut down until they fled down whatever alley or building entrance they could find.
The APC’s gunner was, however, not in a good position. Exposed to the firing lines down both roads, and with Telirans hugging the embassy wall right beside him, the moment the Capitolite opened fire, he was subjected to a hail of bullets from nearly every direction as every gun on the street focused upon him.
It was the Jade grenade, thrown not far from the APC, and embassy entrance, that made a frontal assault all the more difficult. Without any means of disposal, and no timer on the grenade, the explosive was now the only thing denying the locals from advancing on the APC and climbing over it.
With the entrance gate now denied, all hopes for the offensive wave now fell down to the ladders being brought forth towards the courtyard walls. The men carrying the ladders kept closer to the embassy’s walls. Their proximity to the wall prevented the consulate’s defenders from firing upon them without exposure to rebel fire from across the street. To make matters worse, with the courtyard now being a death sentence, the offenders now had a genuine opportunity to get their foot in the door.
Wounded were now beginning to pour into the hall. Embassy guards, refugees caught in the crossfire, the embassy was rapidly becoming inundated with the needs of the injured as they cried for help. Urgent help was needed if they were ever going to get back into the fight or saved from the clutches of death.
To the rear, it was the Carnaithian’s decision to charge that made all the difference.
The impassioned militia that rushed alongside the Carnaithians screeched desperately with all their voice at the confused rebels. Unexpectedly, the enemy’s initiative was immediately dissipated and their obedience to their plan fell apart. Once more, they had disintegrated into a self-conscious, bystander mentality as they all fell back; not wanting to be the man at the forefront of the charge.
Pushing them as far back as the alleyway entrance, the Carnaithian charge was finally stalled by a maelstrom of counterfire from defenders as they finally dug their heels in behind dumpsters, concrete steps and building indentations. With this tiny hallway for either side to advance down, neither party could dare to advance as a micro-trench war began behind the embassy complex.
Ophenia/Zeister
“I find it funny that an academic can understand so little about a foreign people.” The Orillian retorted, “We are not caricatures or cartoon villains from a drama, madam. We are idealists for a brighter future, and holding you against your will provides no service towards that future.”
The ambassador clasped his hands behind his back. There was no bow, no smile or machiavellian showmanship. With a wave of his hand, the ambassador retired back down a passage and left a robot to escort to team out from the compound.
Rendezvousing with the corporate team and Ms. Kalmine, the team found what was clearly a requisitioned tour-barge loaded up with boxes and a group of people. Refugees, a couple of guards and a few volunteer logisticians were here, eagerly awaiting to get going as a Telirans watched from down nearby streets and across the river.
“Get on! Kalmine shouted.”
Without issue, they set off. Their voyage was uneventful until the final stretch. Approaching the riverside dock, the barge began to close in on the nearing sound of gunfire and explosions. But abruptly, breaking from the quiet trickling of water against the barge, the corporate ferry found itself, too, suddenly under the hail of gunfire. From the edge of the North-Bank, leaning over the sidewalk edges rose dozens of rebels armed to the teeth with pistols, shotguns and improvised throwing objects.
“DOWN!” Kalmine shrieked at her crew as she turned to Ophenia, “Below deck, now!” She bellowed before a bullet blasted through her knee, causing the Carnaithian businesswoman to howl in anguish as she collapsed to the deck of the boat. The ferry immediately began to turn and fled towards the South Bank.
There, Zeister approached with his fireteam just as the ferry crashed against a nearby dock. Guards rushed down onto dry ground to find cover and return fire.
High Imperium Legation
The instant the High Imperium opened fire on the rebels, the tower was fired upon in kind. Not just from the immediate streets, either. Looming over the area, the tower was visible from every angle and from practically every building away. The moment the Imperials began firing down, it seemed like every resident of the city, now armed to the teeth, was now firing back as bullets sprayed from every direction, every house, every alleyway, up towards the citadel.
Rebels fell down by the dozens from the front of the hordes that now rushed down the streets, but with people using car doors, sheet metal, anything they could, for mobile cover, the people were emboldened and closing. With the sheer volume of offensive small arms fire, defenders at the windows were subject to every kind of round callibre. If one local was killed, seven more would rushed forth in desperate rage.
The enemy was now closing on the citadel entrance as Telirans pushed their guns through the cracked entranceway windows and aimlessly sprayed while others bashed at the doors. Molotov cocktails came chaotically flying through any open, broken window as IED drones blasted against the tower’s sides from all directions. Glass came showering down onto the crowds from the shattered windows high above as the clouds blackened with rising smoke and ash.
People tried to drag bodies of fallen rebels back away from the front as others came to the doorway to take the place while others went to look for staff entrances to rush in from.
Envoy Avenue
The bulletproof glass of the Imperial annex was quickly made opaque as bulk military-grade weapons fire struck up and down the facing, orange glass dust pouring out of the impact holes as consulate guards braced for cover. The much broader fronting of the Union's main building was the source of every reciprocal shot - as explosives rocked the elaborate frontage of the once-diplomatic structure, inaccurate partisan gunfire stripped stone and shattered glass with fervor. Multiple troopers had taken minor injuries, but those could wait - the crush of injured people rushing into the bottom floor was as demanding a threat vector as the opposing building fronts. Riot launchers stopped launching flares and gas as the rebels pressed their fire from the opposing windows, switching to smoke rounds to block out their view - while the backlight of the previous launches still gave the defenders fair guesses at what they were shooting at.
Lyk tried his best to keep his cool, carefully watching through the camera of his cornershot SMG. He watched in disdain as a ladder's vertical struts appeared at the ledge of the balcony wall - a wholly unexpected approach. He braced to shoot, watching as a Teliran head wrapped in a mask peeked over - quickly gored by a three-round burst from the weapon. "Enemy is assaulting the balcony! Team two, eyes close!" he shouted into the Carnaithian comm-net.
At ground level, a particularly ballsy guard stood atop a shelf where a decorative jar had once stood, sidearm close to his stomach and pointed at the backs of those who were rushing into the building. They were all scared of the guns already shooting at them - another not shooting yet wouldn't be a concern if they turned around. He laid eyes on a somewhat more rural-looking Teliran, wholly out of place for this part of town... he was bracing something under a poncho. The red-eyed one looked about himself with nervousness, meeting the eyes of the guard - and revealing the homemade machine-gun and belt he held. The two rounds to kill him were quick, and nobody was none the wiser for just a couple more gunshots.
The back alley was quickly mounting to be a bad situation; automatic weapons fire raked through soft cover and only stopped in water-logged dumpsters not emptied in weeks. Riot launchers fired in volleys, putting gas behind the enemy interspersed with bursts of buckshot writ large, dozens of buckshot pellets sent down the alley per gun... one didn't even have to aim. That said, even as it seemed the enemy didn't regardless, one guard took a round the neck, dying instantly. A cry was let out by his compatriot, who hunkered back down. The message from the team lead across the alley was simple - "Return fire or it'll be all of us!" he snarled.
Envoy Avenue
The whizzing and popping of firearms put Calico into one frame of mind, he was at war. It had been a while since he had experienced a full-blown life or death firefight, but this was it. Either they held, or everyone died. There was no exception here. He watched as a swathe of fire cut down the Capitolite soldier who had bravely taken up the HMG, it had been a suicide move but likely brought them more time. He respected the man; how such hated enemies could be working together for a great goal. What could have been.
The courtyard was now made up of two areas. Those safe zones just behind the walls and barricades where mixed armed personnel tried to peak over and return fire when they could, and the embassy side, where a constant back and forth of fire came from troops and attackers in higher up windows and vantage points. The grass and small quite basic gardens along with the parking zones were now empty, a death trap of bullet holes and dead bodies. Those in the embassy could not reinforce the wall, and those at the walls could not run back to the safety of the embassy.
Those at the embassy tried to pick off those who came over the walls, and those who sheltered behind the walls and barricades proved a surprise for those who jumped over from the ladders, only to be met by shots from literally less than a meter behind them. Still the situation was only going to get worse as Calico fired off another shot.
“Sir, ammunition is getting low.” One of the soldiers rushed over to Calico to report, he had to raise his voice. Not just over the gunfire, but the screams, wails and moans of both refugees and the wounded. The medical staff and volunteers doing everything they could to assist with the meagre supplies they had.
“How low?”
“Current rate of consumption? I give us another hour, Capitol guys have a couple hours more, but hydrogen canisters don’t grow on trees” Grave news. Calico nodded.
“Tell the men to make every shot count, no shooting without clean kills. Surprising fire only when absolutely necessary” The man nodded, rushing off past a shattered window and drawing a few pot shots. The firing of the Union teams began to slacken somewhat, only picking off individuals which they had a clean kill on, it was an obvious signal to their attackers. Ammo was low.
Appius, Hikenaji and Kato picked their shots carefully; not only were they diplomatic duty, but they had also had to abandon their embassy at relatively short notice - they had but a few magazines each. Each of them had their sidearm, and the vitredur blades of their weapons, but if it came down to close combat that meant the game was effectively over. They focused their fire on the windows opposite, trying to thin out or at least interrupt the barrage of fire that was covering the rebel advance, short bursts of gunfire resulting in sparks of orange flame as the na-he rounds impacted in the darkness.
Kato nodded in approval as below them a Capitolite rushed to haul himself up and seize a pintle LMG, bloodying the nose of the enemy advance. Such selflessness was admirable, and unlike the other colonials the Ingenious had few preconceptions about Capitol, having learned only from history books and the grumbling of other citizens of Ancerious, both sources they took with a grain of salt.
She thumbed the trigger on her explosive, ready to detonate it under the feet of the natives as they rushed the lone Capitolite, but they had clearly spotted the threat and shied away from it. At first she cursed, but then realised this was a blessing - one explosion would hold them back for maybe a minute, but the threat of an explosion could keep them at bay for much longer, every second giving the LMG operator vital moments and keeping the tide away from the embassy itself.
-
Inside, Ulbatan worked alongside medics from a half-dozen nations to try and staunch the flow of injured soldiers and civilians. Takenaka was stable, but unconcious, and there was little more he could do for the man. The yokari combat medic had little experience with non-humanoids, but he tried his best anyway. A Carnaithian woman in business attire, middle-aged from his best guess, had been hit with a splinter of glass that had ripped into her arm and severed an artery. Some quick thinker had already applied a belt as a tourniquet, but she was still writhing in pain as he flicked open the HoloNet and began a hasty search for painkillers compatible with Carnaithian physiology when a passing Unionite laden with supplies slapped a syringe into his hand.
"Give her this!" the woman snapped even as she disappeared into the throng. Ulbatan shrugged and injected the poor civilian, and she almost immediately began to calm down. After that, Ulbatan began to clean out the wound, vaguely remembering from his cross-training courses on yokeneko physiology that fur in the wound was a serious concern. Luckily the woman's suit itself was of a robust material that had ripped cleanly, meaning there was little of it to extract. He collared a passing Teliran man and got him to help, holding the woman down as he carefully removed the splinter of glass. Blood welled, but not too much thanks to the tourniquet. Nevertheless, he hurried to remove the last bits of fur and fabric before gently maneuvering his US-105 tool. A red light flashed to the sound of a quiet, gentle beep as he moved it closer to the artery ends, until the light switched to green and the beeping turned to a solid humming tone. He triggered it and it took over, gently grasping the artery and drawing it back together, before coating it in a biogel that would keep the artery safe for approximately six hours.
Sighing in relief, he fixed a dumb-holo to her lapel display notes for the next guy, and moved on...
River Barge
Ophenia and the staff helped get everyone aboard in short order, she had been wrong about Mylixen and the Orillians. With all the propaganda and more that had been smeared across the galaxy, to meet and debate with one had possibly been the best experience possible. Imagine if both sides could talk to one another?
With everyone on the boat she called out for them to set off, staring at the Orillian robotic soldiers as they powered down the river, the blanket of smoke and destruction clear. This city would take a long time to repair. The sudden burst of fire however threw Ophenia off, screaming she shouted for her students to get below decks, panic breaking out as they were fired upon by rebels.
Ophenia was horrified as Kalmine went down, steeling herself she went back up, grabbing Ms Kalmine and pulling her down the steps below deck, two of her students immediately moving to try help staunch the wound and save her. One of her other students came to assist Ophenia, who was confused only to look down at the bullet wound in her right arm. She felt no pain, and she was shaking. Adrenaline, and no doubt shock too.
“Hold still” Ophenia slumped onto a wooden crate letting the first aid help her.
More gunfire now followed, far more intense, regimented.
Rebel gunners went down as Zeister kept moving, the High Imperium Legionaries with him following his pace as the Capitol leader directed fire at the attackers.
“Reach the ship! Assist them and secure it” The soldiers acknowledged as they reached the dock and cut down two men who were taken off guard by the sudden assault. Jumping onto the boat the Legionaries kept their weapons raised at the boat guards as Zeister stepped down.
“I am Zeister, Commander of the Capitol forces here in the city, I demand an update regarding the Capitol quarter, and I demand you take me there at once. I have supplies I am willing to trade in return”
Kalmine, despite being injured, was now busily attempting to give commands and directives to the hectic barge crew as bullets occasionally pierced the walls. A local company worker, trained only in the most basic aid did what they could to deal with the wound, but in truth, there was no one properly trained among the detail to resolve the incoming injured crew members sustained by the attack.
The few rebels located this side of the river were quickly dispatched by Zeister’s rescue mission. Yet the main threat of the assault from across the river persisted. Now steadied by the barge’s idleness, the corporate security both on the ship and on the local dock were now having a better time engaging the enemy. One corporate security member emblazoned with a Fermor Enterprises logo on his vest, presumably the head of the detail, gave a nod to Zeister’s people,
“Capitol quarter? There IS no Capitol quarter, shouldn’t you know that?! That place got bombed to pieces something like a week ago!” The captain replied, “There’s no way we’re takin’ you there pal. We have orders to get these people to the embassies north of here. If your people survived that massacre, they’ll be there too, or here on the South Bank, and since you’re tryna get across… I’m guessin’ they’re not here.”
Envoy Avenue
With the bottleneck formed by the ladders at the front exposing anyone bold enough to cross over to the other side, the frontal assault quickly learned not to commit by jumping into the courtyard and charging. They instead began using the rungs to shoot over the edge of the building and into the courtyard. Most of the assailants were first focused on blasting down at those trapped defenders beneath the wall before they focused on clearing out anyone else left in the area. Those courageous few that had not only charged in, but successfully run the gauntlet into the embassy, quickly found themselves shot dead by the Carnaithian garrison.
As the defence’s repulsion fire began to simmer, the assault forces became increasingly dominant in their fire. Men began to appear more frequently in neighboring windows and were enabled more chances for clearer shots. But it quickly became apparent that these shooters exposing themselves more often wasn’t merely due to the reduction in threat, but because of something else entirely.
The moment any consulate unit peered out for more than a second now, whether to shoot a target or to view the outside, they were picked off by the precision shot of an accurate, high-caliber round. The marksman had returned.
Two defenders were rapidly dispatched this way. Another shot only narrowly missed Lyk, spitting bits of stone from the wall he had been looking around. Smoke from Carnaithian launchers quickly bought a reprieve from this threat. For the time being.
For a while, the alleyways had been locked down. With too narrow a line of approach, and with Carnaithian heavy armaments gassing the end of the passage, the rebels found themselves incapable of brute-forcing the siphoned frontline. Instead, assailants began to filter through the houses to each side of the alley to get side-on, close-up shots at the Carnaithians and their Teliran auxiliaries. Gunfire came in ambush-like bursts from both sides at intervals. The attackers didn’t need to be skilled. There were too many windows and doors at too close quarters for the training of the defenders to counter the rabble in this position. The alleyway defence was now becoming too exposed the longer they held out beyond the safety of the embassy limits.
The aid effort given by Carnaithians, Unionists, Capitolites, Jade and Teliran locals were essential as more and more bloodied bodies were dragged in. People who had taken bullets were hobbling in by themselves, a disoriented and confused guard wandered aimlessly among the beds, a pair of Teliran children had dragged in the corpse of their own father.
But through the hubbub of the triage centre rushed a fat Teliran man rushed down some stairs. His hair was scrambled, and his face red with exhaustion and sweat. Gasping for breath and looking right at Ulbatan, the man practically screamed so loudly his voice could’ve gone,
“THE ROOF, THEY’RE COMING FROM THE ROOF!”
Above the muffled sound of gunfire and battle, there was indeed a sound coming from above.
The sound of thumping at a roof access door.
River Barge
Zeister stiffened at the comment that the Capitol quarter had fallen that long ago. His weapon twitching as if wanting the gun, the man down for the news. He didn’t want to accept it, but the man was absolutely right. If the city was this chaotic and the High Imperium were suffering this hard on this side of the river, then his own people likely had fallen near the very beginning. He should never have left them. He had abandoned them and failed them.
“They are not on the south bank. I will help you get these people to the embassies” Zeister gestured for the Imperial Legionaries still giving covering fire from the river side to come aboard, bringing their supplies with them. He knew they were heading towards the Union and Carnaithian embassies, maybe they would just shoot Zeister on the spot, but if his people had gotten out and things were truly desperate perhaps, they were holding out together. He noticed the Union teacher shortly after.
“You’re the ones from the school evacuation?” Ophenia nodded.
“Yes. We only just escaped, we are trying to get to safety, if its any consolation everyone is heading for those embassies or has headed there already. That’s what everyone says.” Zeister nodded.
“Maybe we can all die together there then”
Envoy Avenue
The front area was nothing but a standoff between the assailants using the wall and ladders as a parapet and the forces inside the embassy and just behind the wall. Unfortunately, those behind the walls up against them were fighting a loosing battle, crossfire shots coming from higher buildings picked off individuals before return fire could be brought to bare. A few had tried running for the embassy, only to be gunned down moments later from the walls themselves.
Hardly any covering fire came, with the marksman back those within the embassy had to resort to mirrors and other stripped down optics to try find targets, exposing themselves was suicide.
There was a burst of fire however just as Calico was trying to catch a few minutes of down time. One of the Union soldiers out by the wall was shouting.
“Go GO!” He put two rounds into a man trying to crossfire them across the way, then took down two more as they tried to shoot him from the wall. As one the forces from below the wall ran for it, a rag tag group. Many didn’t make it, picked off or too injured to get far. Still, the embassy forces opened a gap in the barricades for them.
“Covering fire now!” Calico roared, and guns opened up all over to try and help the retreating personnel.
The brave Unioner went down a moment later, the marksman putting a round into his neck seal and killing him instantly. While more bodies now littered the gardens, the isolated and increasingly picked off soldiers had been saved, a phyrric victory given the dead but better than nothing. Sadly, the attackers on the walls no longer needed to worry about being shot in the back, apart from the odd injured man here and there.
“They are on the roof!” Someone shouted.
“Fuck sake, you three with me!” Calico pointed to three nearest armed men, a Capitolite and two Teliran volunteers, now sprinting for the stairs and heading up to cover the roof.
Appius, Hikenaji and Kato glanced up at the sound of footsteps above them. Although the Jade Marine Corps had long since accepted the supremacy and value of ranged superiority, there was still a fond place in the heart of every marine for close-quarters combat.
As the frontline swelled with the survivors of the courtyard, who had been rescued by the Union soldier's sacrifice, Kato decided that there were enough troops to cover her small group's absence. She tapped the Union soldier who had thrown the grenade for her and gestured for his personal computer. She dropped a widget onto his device - it would communicate with her own holo and let her know when he wanted to detonate the grenade. A breathless explanation in common and then she and her two marines were away, rushing upstairs along with several other defenders.
They slung their AA-42s, drawing instead their sidearms - short, straight-bladed swords of glittering vitredur. Powering them on with a thumbswitch, the blades began to glow in the darkness as light refracted madly inside the glassy blades, two crimson and one gold. Inside the blades was a tiny aperture through which bursts of supercritical fluid plasma, held together only by fragile bioplastic droplets, could cough forth. Useless at long range compared to the shells fired by the gunspears, they were still deadly at short range. Their curved grips made it easier to aim them, and the three marines searched for the nearest access point, hoping to terrify and shock the enemy and so stall them, if not outright drive them away. Appius grunted a warning and the three activated their flashbang visors - the helmets could automatically detect flashbangs, but they were notoriously unreliable and would often react too late, so most marines preferred to activate them manually....
Lyk cursed as the marble wall pop-cracked with dust and shrapnel as the large-caliber round tore past him, his ear ringing in response. "All-call, any gunshot detectors active?"
"We've got two," a shocked voice responded from somewhere else in the building. "I don't think they'd work anyways. Too many guns."
"Tune it!" he shouted back, brandishing the mirrored surface of his personal phone to peer out of the window, looking for the glint of a scope. The shots were pretty accurate for the lighting; he swung down his night vision monocle and swept for infrared beams in case the hawk was using a fancy scope. "Countersnipers, any shots?"
"Just glimpses. Staying quiet until they shoot from somewhere unfortunate."
--//--
The alley was gradually filled with more and more ricochets from more directions, slicing and digging into the backs and sides of one soldier or another. In a panic, one of the soldiers popped smoke grenades danger-close to escape; while the group had quickly caught on and taken the sudden fog to break for the embassy once more, the small pyrotechnic charges in the nonlethal grenades had, in fact, taken to the garbage that had been strewn about the alley...
The dreaded marksman, with his placement diluted by the gunfire all around his position, was made all the more frustrating by the fact that he seemed to move every one or two shots. Moving from building to building, the sniper refused to be entrenched or be honed down upon. His behavior made it abundantly clear that not only was he good, but he was also experienced in countering his martial opponents. There was no sign of infrared being used by the shooter either, presumably indicating that he was Teliran.
Things in the courtyard now looked like a slaughterhouse. Bodies lay lifeless, strewn across the gardens and pavements. Blood dripped from the patels of what had once been a scenic collection of flowerbeds with the war flowing from the water displays were now tinted with a crimson red. Still, the frenzied and desperate onslaught came. With the courtyard defence now pushed within the walls, more and more ladders arrived and more and more options opened for defenders to leap in and rush for cover.
The Carnaithian and Unionists now holding the main entrance had a clear and defensible bottleneck to hold. But things took a turn when one Teliran, who had taken cover behind a concrete embankment along the gardens suddenly rose and threw something straight through the entrance’s door frame.
A molotov cocktail.
Another came forth. It smashed upon a wall with minimal effect. The same went for a number of others. But more and more were now being hurled to try and burn, smoke or shock the defence into clearing deeper into the confines of the building.
Finally, as older attackers withdrew to recover and recuperate; replaced by newer ones, awareness of the Ingen hand grenade had begun to deplete. Eventually, several locals began to rush over it to begin clambering over the Capitol APC. Evidently they were hoping to utilize the vehicle’s LMG against its own people.
The ignition of the refuse behind the colonial embassies bought the escapees both a smokescreen and a brief reprieve for the rear. With the Carnaithians and auxiliaries now returned to the backdoor, they could afford to reinforce elsewhere with some of their manpower.
Up above however, a little under a dozen defenders had found their positions on the top floor. A single door lay ahead within a wide corridor flanked by offices and administrative rooms. Beyond the door at the end of the hall was the way up to the roof, and it was now banging. The assailants from beyond were trying to break it down.
As the defence awaited the assault, the muffled bangs and cracks of battle elsewhere seemed to dull and almost disappear; like there was nothing else beyond this hall.
The banging stopped.
Suddenly, and without warning, there came a thunderous, violent explosion of smoke and shrapnel that not only took the door off, but half the wall it was framed on. The entire building quaked from the event as the hall filled with dust. But more haunting than the explosion was what came after it. Where there were meant to be Telirans came metallic stamping of an endless stream of machines, each with a gun embedded straight into their arm.
They came by twos down that corridor, blasting fearlessly and relentlessly as they took projectile after projectile. Sparks and armour would fly off sooner than each of the machine collapses, and when one finally did, it was instantly replaced by another in the endless advance. Their limbs would instantly twist and turn the moment a target was sighted, and their silent coordination was deadly.
Two auxiliaries toward the front, taking cover behind office doorways were mown down in seconds. Other positions were instantly pinned without a moment to think.
River Barge
With the other side now cleared from the suppression, and with extra firepower to bear, the ferry set off once more for the dock. Leaning from a window, the immobilized Ms. Kalmine frowned. Seething through her pain, the Carnaithian growled,
“Where are they…? They’re meant to be waiting at the docks…!”
With the barge coming in to dock, the captain of the ship turned to Zeister,
“I’m going to need you and your people to lead the advance over to the embassy. We have wounded and supplies; we can’t afford our people to get engaged again. We need to punch through and clear a way. Maybe there’s some kind of vehicle or person out there along the riverfront that can help…?” He suggested.
“They're not at the docks for good reason” Zeister muttered. Several explosions and heavy gunfire was coming from near the embassies near the docks.
“We will be the spearhead. Grab absolutely everything you can, you need to stay behind me if you get left behind I wont be able to protect you” He stated to everyone on board. Ophenia and her students nodding in understanding, now upset that even the embassy was a warzone.
Zeister got on his com system.
“To all Capitol elements this is Commander Zeister, I am at the docks with supplies and minor reinforcements. What is your situation”
“.. So, you came back. We are under heavy attack, perimeter breached. We can’t get to you” The voice of Grandma Garren came in return.
Envoy Avenue
“Hold steady!” Calico shouted at the group who he had taken to the roof. The banging on the door giving them enough time to take up positions and get some good overwatch. It was annoying that the insurgents had gotten this far, they were seemingly very good with tactics. When the door exploded outwards however cover was taken, and as the automated drones came through Calico swore and made an exhausted expression.
Someone well off was equipping these groups. This was no random riot or uprising; this was a supplied targeted attack.
“Hold positions and fire!” They returned fire at the automata, two of the volunteers going down to a storm of gunfire as they tried to shoot, and one of the Union troops being hit in the arm and crying out. Calico himself didn’t fire centre mass, he fired at targeting optics and the gun arm itself, trying to disable them would be easier than trying to simple kill them.
“Aim for the topics and guns! Defang them don’t shoot centre mass!” He cried out, looking down at one of his remaining grenades. If this got worse, he would have to use it.
The now burning entryway was being combatted by people bringing up water, but the mains supply had been turned off externally. There was only so much they could do now to fight the flames. Return fire came in, but one Unioner was blown apart by the MG on the APC, the heavy rounds cracking and punching straight through his power armour, one of the precious few sets they had. In return two more fired at the gunner, killing him, but it was no use, another attacker immediately took his place and sent more high velocity shells into the building.
The three Jade Marines had followed the Union lead and sought cover, ducking into side rooms, their sidearms gripped tightly. Kato flinched as explosions and gunfire filled the hallway outside.
After a moment, she thrust her jian through the crack in the door and began thumbing the trigger, aiming it at roughly head height for the automatons. After a few shots she drew the weapon back in, pushed the door shut and sprang to the other side, waiting with her weapon at the ready - at worst she hoped to stall the robots and give the other defenders an opening, but at best one or two of the droids would take the bait and try to enter the room, where she could ambush them with the deadly vitredur shortsword.
Padov's heart raced as the explosion from above rocked the building and roaring fires began to erupt at the edges of the campus' remaining bastion; the stone facings of the building wouldn't catch, but the interior was a different story if a bottle made it through the facade.
"Any adult who isn't already using a gun, pick up a fire extinguisher!" he shouted into the mouthpiece on his headset, distributing the command to the PA system of the structure before switching over to his own forces' internal comms. "If there are any combat stims left unused, dose appropriately," He uttered more grimly, brandishing his PDW as a return call came in. Military levels of suppressing fire muted the shouting of the scene, but it was there regardless.
"Sir, combots!," the guard on the other side worriedly reported. The racing heart of the Carnaithian officer sank in turn; he grasped for options. These rounds weren't rated to kill armored machines.
"Optics and manipulators!" he commanded, keying the network of his soldiers to offer a view of what was going on on the upper floors. he was looking for the robots, he wanted to see their livery-
North Bank Streets
Rising up from the dockyards onto the city streets proper, the barge detail, the university remnants and Capitol contingent were met by the sight of a city street filled to the brim with people. These people were not armed, rather, they seemed to be onlookers. Tens of thousands of people had amassed in the streets surrounding the embassies not to participate, but to lay witness to chaos unfolding or to catch their own footage of the battle. Others were there to pretend to contribute but lacking the guts to join the fight as the rebels were.
Whatever had brought each of these bystanders here, they were now all blocking the paths and dozens were already beginning to draw attention to the party. Some were taking phones out to film the Capitolite expedition while others were starting to shout and heckle at these unsuspected imposters to the scene.
Zeister now had to make the call on how he was planning to actually reach the embassy. There was the road, of course, but that would require punching through the legions of locals and then the inner layer of rebel besiegers to prevail. Alternatively they could chance the alleyways and battered buildings to get closer to the group’s destination.
But who knew what they might find within the wet, forgotten corners of this urban battlefield.
Envoy Avenue
The hail of bullets flooded the hallway as the legions of mechanized figures persisted in their ceaseless advance. Even as one lost its retina, the automaton continued to blast at the defenders with persistent accuracy. It seemed that, far from limited individuals, the units were joined by some kind of information-sharing connection that coordinated the assailing squad as a hivemind-like team. It was only with the destruction of their offensive limbs that any unit finally became ineffective and shut itself off.
At the very moment Padov arrived upstairs, a bolt went flying by and barely missed him, making abundantly clear how things were going up here.
Stomping and crunching through the dust and rubble the automatons began sweeping rooms along the corridor. One after the other they started to trap defenders in their rooms and turn their defensive positions into coffins. Soon after came canisters of gas flying over their metallic heads down the corridor. They were trying to force the defence into clearing their beachhead into the building. The units were now approaching Kato’s room; smashing through the door to begin spraying through their room too.
Downstairs, things weren’t looking much better. While the natives, being civilians and unfamiliar with armoured cars and HMG’s, had quickly spent the mounted guns ammunition on one of the union’s heavy troops, the melting fires they were now blasting the embassy with had now cut off the main entrance from access for the time being.
With the infernos burning drapes and carpets lining the consulate access way, the building’s visibility was starting to be hindered by the rising thickness of the smoke that floated along the ceilings of the building. The water runs were helping to mitigate its effects, but with guns pointed at the same areas the cocktails were getting in, fire control was dangerous at best. But, in an almost miraculous twist of fate, the water supplies to the embassy returned. Allowing for any sprinklers, hoses or sinks to be utilized. The question had to be asked though: Why?
In the main hall, the huddled masses were only getting more and more panicked as children cried and loyalists desperately disrupted troopers to ask for updates and help. No longer were the rebels trying to actively push from the front and rear. But the only line of entry now lay with the machines who continued to advance with haste over more and more metallic and organic bodies; forcing the defence to give more and more ground or face the machines head on in a cloud of gas.
"Masks, masks, masks!" Lyk shouted over the comm-net at anyone who wasn't actively engaging the assaulting robots. Multiple men had already fallen, and no matter what his orders were, the remainder up there would fall back in the face of the shock tactics and threats they weren't equipped to deal with. He, personally, ran from his position on the second floor to the rooms below those the robots were breaching into, hearing the cries of the people throughout the building all the way and rallying any gunmen he could, now that the crush of militia weren't as keen to keep up the pressure.
Once there, he looked around for supports - He wasn't sure if trying to bring the floor down from beneath the new threat was a good idea yet, by virtue of their unknown number, but he was considering options.
North Bank Streets
“We can’t get through or they will cut us down!” Ophenia cried out as the press of civilian bodies blocked their path. Zeister sneered. He directed the Legionaries and the few remaining fighters from the barge to encircle the civilians and those carrying the supplies, to form a human shield around them. Their guns were up, they would take no chances with the civilians any one of them could pull a firearm and shoot them in the chaos and commotion.
“Through the back alleys, we flank around. If that route is blocked with foes we attack and try pincer them with the defenders. Move people move!” The group changed course, as much as Zeister wanted to push and gun his way through the masses to his own people he knew firing on the crowd would only fuel further attacks and a mass of people that they simply could not stop. Moving into one of the alleys they kept weapons up, checking every angle as they rushed as fast as they could towards the embassy rear.
“Keep moving and do not stop!”
Envoy Avenue
“Keep firing! Don’t let up!”
Calico was exhausted, and his ammo was getting low as the gas came in. While the very few remaining soldiers in full armour could withstand it the sheer bulk of their defenders could not. And armed men and women began to go into coughing fits as the mechs advanced with their chemical cloud following.
“K-Keep clear! We need explosives!” Calico coughed as he directed to the rest, he saw some of the Carnaithians go downstairs. Probably to hit the enemy from below, he hoped it would work. The man next to him went down to a shot in the stomach and he cursed. They were running out of ammo and men and were close to being pushed down the stairs.
“Fall back to the next floor, overwatch the stairs do not let them pass there!” He directed, men and women falling back and using the stairs as cover to fire on the attackers. This floor was lost, they would have to defend the next one.
“I don’t have any info I am sorry, we are doing the best we can to keep you safe” One soldier told a frightened Teliran mother and her child before rushing back off to deliver the last of the ammo. As the sprinklers came on the water runs stopped, the fires being efficiently put out at least. But why restore the water? What was their game?
Kato plunged her bayonet into the visor of the first robot and was nearly gutted when it turned unperturbed, muzzle smoking, towards her. She threw herself at the arm, stabbing wildly and punching through the metal and into doorframe beyond. Her bayonet stuck there, trapping both the weapon and the robot's gun, and she drew her sidearm, emptying it into the attacker frantically.
She ducked as another droid crowded behind the first, spraying large caliber rounds into the room as it struggled to get past its dead comrade. Behind her, Appius grunted in pain as a round flattened itself against his chestplate, hurling him to the ground. Hikenaji hauled him up as Kato slotted a fresh magazine and, using the damaged robot as cover, emptied another volley at point blank into the second one. These things were hard to take down, and more were stamping down the corridor beyond with every passing second.
"Broken ribs," called Hikenaji as he helped Appius up, the latter wincing in pain and shuddering for breath.
Kato cursed to herself. They needed to fall back, find better weapons - already they could hear their comrades being overrun. The only door was now crowded with two ruined androids, however, with more of the hulking threats outside trying to push through the wreckage.
She glanced at the wall behind them. Interior walling. Couldn't be too thick. She hefted her AA-42 and fired a short burst, the miniature explosions ripping a vertical line in the wall. A tiny shred of light showed, so she hadn't hit a stud. Not hesitating, she barreled through the wall, her armour and bodyweight punching a jagged hole. The room beyond was empty, unlit except for a few bullet holes from the corridor wall and the flicker of flames from underneath the door. She fired again at the next wall and pushed the others through it, just as a metal leg splintered the door and another droid pushed into the room.
-
Kato dove through the wall chased by a burst of gunfire, and found herself in a corridor. The stairs were ahead and to the right, gunfire roaring back and forth as the last defenders tried to halt the robotic advance. She snuck to the corner, her back to the wall, coming face-to-face with a scared auxiliary hidden beneath the lip of the stairs trying to reload an LMG. She drew a grenade, yelling for Appius and Hikenaji to get ready, then tossed it backhanded around the corner towards the droids. There was a loud crack and a gout of flame and smoke, and Appius and Hikenaji practically hurled themselves down the stairs followed by Kato.
"Get him to a medic," she told Hikenaji, gasping for breath in the momentary safety of the lower stairwell, then ejected her AA-42's magazine and reloaded it with shaking fingers. She would join the other defenders and try to hold the stairwell....
North Bank Streets
Through the backroads and alleys Zeister and his crew went. The journey was a short one. Passing through these forgotten nooks and cranneys, the party laid witness to the other side of this carnage. Sobbing rebels were sprawled in fetal positions, trying to take sanctuary in these dark corners of the city to find respite from the endless gunfire and screaming. Corpses lay in the gutters where injured rebels had crawled in their haze, only to bleed to death. Someone, clearly in shock, wandered right past the group with a bewildered expression, as if he was more confused by how he had gotten there than the presence of the foreigners.
Skulking through one of the buildings closest to the source of the gunfire, Zeister’s men came face to face with what seemed like one of the main firing positions of the Teliran locals. Rebels were firing out of the windows and doorways to the embassy across the road with shoddy automatic rifles, shotguns and hunting weapons. But most of the rebels seemed to be more focused in helping in other ways, like bringing ammo to their comrades or chattering on their phones to their peers elsewhere in the conflict zone. Few seemed to notice the presence of Zeister, except one.
A boy, probably about sixteen years in age with a pistol in his hand. He was staring right back at the Capitolite’s with his mouth agape.
Envoy Avenue
The Jade grenade was enough to blast the closest robots legs into mangled parts; leaving them jittering wrecks of uncanny, crawling movements upon the floor. Yet the vanguard was swiftly replaced by their clockwork comrades as the robotic tide drew ever closer to the defenders. As a pair of bolts skimmed past the retreating Ingenious, Kato caught the sound of what could only have been the explosion of some kind of grenade into the room she had evacuated from. The gas had fully filled the level by this point; forcing the Teliran support to hightail it downstairs.
Now with the rooms cleansed, the robotic legion advanced yet with more decisions. Their route changed after a few seconds. The cause of their alternation became apparent when the troopers came spewing out of one of the side-doors right in front of Calico and his brethren with their guns blasting away. Upon discovering the Ingenious’ escape route, the automatons had evidently exploited it to make their own covered approach upon the defence of this level.
A pair of Teliran volunteers were quick to come and aid in bringing Hikenaji to a room secured for first aid. The main lobby was no longer being used for triage: It’s windows and proximity to the outside was now showering such outer rooms with projectiles as the rebels had gained dominance overlooking the building.
Below the hubbub of the frantic combat, the Carnaithans were surveying weak points in the ceiling above. While there were no clear support beams for the building, Lyk could hear through the hiss of the water-sprinklers the muffled, patterned marching of the robots from above the large reception room, evidently the floor wasn’t all that thick.
The chaotic shouting at the stairwell, and the increased volume of fire, increased the pressure on Lyk to do something now that the situation was so unexpectedly desperate. He grappled for his radio, quickly yelling into it - "Aphkaral!" He shouted, hoping the Tunora was still alive. A dreadful, century-long second passed before his distinct voice responded: "Yes, lieutenant?," trying his best to maintain composure.
"Please tell me you've got explosives, even if they're improvised!"
"Where do you need them?"
"Second-highest floor, meeting room!"
North Bank Streets
Ophenia was quick to try and say something about the child.
She was going to try convincing the boy to put the gun down, to end this entire charade.
The shot rang out before she could even try.
Zeister had his pistol outstretched and smoking, he hadn’t even hesitated. The Legionnaires and other remaining fighters took the signal and opened fire, causing the civilians and Ophenias troupe to crouch down and avoid fire. They targeted the shooters on the frontline from behind, targeted ammo porters, targeted those who were relaying messages through their phones. The only ones spared were the ones with no weapons and no obvious involvement, everyone else was an active combatant and was engaged with ruthless efficiency.
Ophenia was horrified, how could Zeister have done that? He was a Capitol officer yes, but did he have no humanity?
The truth was one of pragmatism, they did not have the time to be held up, didn’t have the time for the rebels to spot and shoot them. They had the tactical element of surprise, and Zeister would use it to full effect.
“Push through them! Now is our chance!” He bellowed, dragging Ophenia to her feet and propelling her and the civilians towards the embassy. The soldiers covered, one of the Legionaries being shot down by return fire, Zeister didn’t care about them, only the fact it was one less capable soldier to fight.
Envoy Avenue Embassy
Calico grunted as their position was exploited, the air was driven from his lungs as he was hit. The closest robot which had struck him being shot apart a moment later by the soldiers next to him. Still Calico could taste blood, that wasn’t good.
He was without his helmet, so he checked his wrist read out, internal trauma to his abdomen, his left kidney was hit as was part of his intestine. He took a breath, falling to his knees, the last shot of nanites were administered by his armour to try stem the bleeding but the exhaustion kicked him squarely in the chest.
“Man down! Medic!” One of them shouted “Calico is down Calico is down!” The sergeants whole world suddenly became calmer, being dragged into the triage area everything became quieter. Was this how he died? Was this where he died?
With Calico hit the Unioners began to faulter, pulling back further to another defensible doorway. They didn’t have many men left.
Envoy Embassy
Appius was not mortally wounded, so once Hikenaji had bundled him into a safe corner deeper in the building in the hands of some friendly Telirans he returned to join Kato. The fighting was desperate, the allies being pushed further back as a Carnaithian began yelling for explosives. Kato cursed the fact that diplomatic missions didn't carry anything heavier than a rifle - a single graviton lance would tweak these robots into so much bent junk in seconds, but she may as well have wished for her own personal star destroyer - they were both equal distances away.
At least the robots pouring from the side door could be plugged for now. The two set up opposite, hidden from the main hallway by the angle of the corridor and the stairs, and took it in turns to hose down the robots' weapon arms as they appeared one by one through the narrow doorway, the other reloading as the magazines of their curious ammunition rapidly depleted. It wouldn't change the battle, but it might slow the attack for the crucial seconds and minutes needed for some other ally to make a game-changing move.
Outside, unheard by Kato or Hikenaji, there was a crack and then a boom. Some unfortunate local had crossed over the pothole trodden on the grenade that had long since been forgotten, no longer holding the attackers back through fear. The impact caused it to detonate, shredding the poor man in an instant and throwing several around him to the ground with screams of pain and terror, but it was a drop in the ocean amidst the bloodbath at the embassy...
North Bank Streets
The boy immediately crumpled to the floor in a flail of limbs. Almost immediately the entire room exploded into confusion and frenzied movements. In the blind panic and torrent of rushing bodies, there was no discerning threat from non-combatant. By the end, all that remained off the room were corpses of any occupant that hadn’t managed to scramble to the nearest door in time.
From beyond the firing range, Zeister and Ophenia could make out the embassy across the road, or atleast what had been the embassy. All the remained now in the darkness and smoke were the glowing inferno of the fires and the shredded, blackened facade of the Union mission. Not a single window was unbroken, not a single wall unpeppered. Corpses were strewn across the once-busy pavements and roadways where these very same people had once been casual passers by. Streams of blood were draining the gutters of the avenue into the clogged-up storm-drains while loved ones and volunteers clutched the dead. Combatants occasionally came running to and fro. But it seemed like the onslaught from head-on had largely been appeased by this point.
Suddenly an explosion sent a man flying as he rushed by the husk of what was clearly the remnants of a Capitolite APC, splintering his limbs into pieces as his peers were thrown aside. There was nothing left between the Capitolite’s and the embassy but death and confusion. But with the fires and the battle-worn defenders now holding the front, who was to say any attempt to run to the embassy wouldn’t result in crossfire, hostile fire, or worse: friendly fire? It was a risk to consider. The characteristic crack of a high-quality sniper rifle indicated additionally that the streets would not be safe for them, if they were going out, there was going to be a skilled marksman to worry about; one that Ophenia had already met.
Envoy Avenue
What little remained of the upstairs defence had now fully conceded to the staircase as the few men willing to hold desperately tried to buy what more time they could. But the volunteers were now either all dead, fleeing or out of ammunition. Resources were beginning to dwindle not just here, at the corridor, but across the entire compound. Ammunition wasn’t the only thing in short supply among the irregulars, but so were medical supplies and working electronics. Panicked men were now trying to find nooks and crannies to hide as the metallic din of the unthinking, robotic assault advanced evermore.
No matter how many bullets the Jade, irregulars and Unionists piled into his thin wall of machines, they kept marching and continuing. If their legs were destroyed, they would crawl, if their arms were destroyed, they would abruptly sprint straight at the defence. There was no stopping this conventionally, there was nothing but more metal and more bullets marched down upon the stairs. It was all down to the Carnaithans now, and time was of the essence.
Yet through the panic, through the gunfire and the running and the screaming, something subtle, but noticeable seemed to shudder through the ambience. There was a rumbling. It was hard to recognize through the constant, confused, sounds of battle. But between the sporadic bangs and cracks, there was a noticeable tremor through the ground. Only Calico could seem to detect it, the effects of his shock seemed to drown out almost everything else, and it let him recognize something more about the rumble.
It was getting stronger.
Streets & Envoy Avenue
Zeister was good at shutting himself off.
He had been vigorously beaten as a child, hided within an inch of his life if he ever achieved anything other than top marks. He may have been an aristocratic child growing up within a bloated and corrupt society, but his father had constantly pushed him to be better, to be the peak. Zeister had joined the military not out of his own choice, excelling proudly with ruthless efficiency. And yet he had his service and honour purged during Inaras reign finding himself in this hellhole with those who followed him out of fear rather than respect.
The truth was Zeister had never experienced love, had never understood human interaction, because he had never been shown any. He had been moulded into a weapon, a tool of both his own father and the state. In these moments, as they fought and took lives, Zeister was home. The mental scarring didn't hurt him here.
It was something Ophenia would never understand.
The group ran for it, swaying to one side as one of the front soldiers on point was taken out by an explosive. The Capitol APC made Zeister stir a bit, he was right his people were here. There was no time for debate, and Zeister was fired up, the streets would harry them. They would have to rush the front.
Over the din of gunfire and shots which plunged in to kill legionnaires and even members of the group Zeister shouted with all his emotion as they tried to storm the compound.
"PEOPLE OF CAPITOL! WHAT DO WE LIVE FOR!" The chant was something his own soldiers would recognise, but also the Unioners too. Stray rounds came in despite his cry, even as cries to ceasefire from one of the Unioners upon seeing the group rang out. Ophenia and her entourage raced into the building, she herself looking back as Zeister staggered.
The Capitol general stood still, two holes in his chest. One had come from panicked fire, a Teliran civilian who was armed apologising to the Union gunner overseeing the front, the second had come from the sniper.
Ophenia looked to see who had made the shot, Zeister saluting those Capitolites on the line he could see before turning around and emptying his weapon towards the shooter, only half the rounds went anywhere near as he fell backwards firing. Dead on hitting the ground.
Calico and his men were constantly withdrawing now, the enemy had broken through. They could only buy time. The sergeant himself was still bleeding despite the nanite injection and he was in a lot of pain. Having been dragged to triage he had rested for less than 2 minutes before pulling himself up and insisting on fighting. It was the endgame now and if they were all to die he would die defending the civilians.
The commotion downstairs heralded good news, the students and staff of the school had somehow made it back along with other survivors and remnants of the High Imperium, but despite the supplies being dragged in and the new bodies they were fighting a losing battle.
But the rumbling... Calico listened, pressing his head against a wall.
... It sounded like armour?
"I need cover." the deep voice of Aphkaral uttered over the Carnaithian's communication system. Lyk turned around, looked outside as the fire from above intensified and the fire from the Unioners faltered. His own HUD reported a third of his contingent dead, another fifth wounded. One of his snipers had already simply begun picking off shooters across the street, but his fire had been silenced the same as his heart.
He thought on it - It couldn't be so many combots left now. At least he hoped. The deluge of hostiles from the street had stopped as the shock of combat had stunned it into something of a static block war. He still had a dozen good, capable shooters.
"All guns, regroup on me! Cover the Tunora!" He didn't need to order Aph to do anything; he could already see the horned one's hulking form sprinting at alarming speed towards the stairs below him, and PDW fire quickly ramped up in intensity - peppering the bottom floors of the buildings across the street as a solid fireteam of men's boots surely announced the quick assembly of the force around him.
"Clear the top floor!" He shouted again for warning's sake as the giant alien rushed up the stairs, carrying a ramshackle device in his arms - easily more than fifty pounds, consisting of fossil fuel tanks, aerosols, a repairman's welding kit, and all of the steel and composite containers that involved. He looked worriedly at the aerosols - he didn't even have to speak.
"The gasses shouldn't expand too much before it detonates. Where do you want this?"
"The pillar there," the Lieutenant pointed at the center of the room. "We'll clear the area - Get it done ASAP." His men understood immediately and had already started clearing the area.
In seconds that felt like minutes, Apharal had set the explosive and its ignition device and had - literally - bull rushed to the rest of the Carnaithian contingent, with Padov halfway through making a quick-witted joke before the device deafened the area and the rumbles of structural damage made itself known. Heavy marble walls had contained the explosion to the room, but the door had been blown a significant degree larger and the floor below the device was subject to its own damage. Stunned, the officer struggled to collect his next order - so he led it himself.
They rushed towards the expanded, scorched doorway, brandishing guns upwards to the top floor and downwards into the fiery room. HUD gear quickly began pinging millimeter scans - originally intended for search-and-rescue purposes - revealing the telltale humanoid shapes and dense materials of combots. PDW fire quickly began filling the room and any sign of further movement, with Aphkaral joining in with a deafeningly large-bore shotgun.
"Dicks," yelled Hikenaji, "I'm dry!"
Kato hosed down another droid, impact spanging off its limbs as she took it apart using the remaining half of her final magazine.
"Same!" she called, slinging her gunspear and drawing her sidearm. A semi-automatic, it was not much use against the droids, but it made her feel better. Ducking out of the firing line, she glanced around desperately for any fallen weapons. Hikenaji took out a firefly flashbang grenade and tossed it around the corner, hoping to buy another few seconds for the defenders.
The collapse of Capitol’s general seemingly sent the surrounding cityscape into a frenzy of cheers and encouraged roars. A hailfire of bullets prevented a rescue of casualties of any kind as the battered team were forced to rush through fire and debris to puncture through the embassy and into the defensive lines of the compound’s inner sanctum.
By the time they had crossed, the street was strewn with those unfortunates among Ophenia’s students and Zeister’s men that had been struck by the rebel offenders, despite the best covering efforts of what remained of the Carnaithan contingent.
With Ophenia being the last one through, she caught a glimpse of the marksman responsible for the killing of Zeister standing upon an overlooking apartment behind the opposing street. He was hard to see, but his tribal clothes were unmistakable: Taliki Masarr, the man that had ensured Ophenia’s safe passage through the city.
There was no time for welcome or reunion however. As soon as Ophenia’s lot arrived, they were met with the chaos of the embassy’s interior as ambassadorial security began to stagger back down the stairs from the floors below, spraying what ammunition they could as a defender was blasted down into a crumpling heap from midway down the steps.
The moment the Carnaithan charges were detonated, the entire hallway floor, and the surrounding office rooms came collapsing down from within the embassy as the building’s interior was gutted. Rubble and debris came shattering down into the open room below along with the mangled form of dozens upon dozens of automatons that came tumbling with it. By the time the dust had settled and the Carnaithans had done their work at targeting the jittering wrecks left behind, there was nothing left to fight. Over a hundred machines had been brought down with the floor’s destruction; the window of opportunity had left ample time for the defenders to finish those stragglers trying to recover themselves.
With the effective ambush, and destruction of that threat the survivors were left with a momentary reprieve. It didn’t take long for it to become apparent that the chaos of the fighting with the robots wasn’t the only thing that had stopped though, all the gunfire had stopped. The rebel onslaught upon the compound has ended, and so had the shooting.
That was until the lobby floor quaked with a muffled boom that sent the entire floor rippling into a momentary dip to the center.
Whether or not the instability of the lobby’s floor was caused the Carnaithan explosives, or by something else, was quickly answered when the tremor was followed by the unmistakeable, ground-vibrating roar of something very big, and very angry from right below the triage centre.
What followed could only be described as a repeated bashing from below, almost like a jackhammer; followed by the creaking of the entire ground until, finally, the centre of the floor burst with dust and tiles.
From the center of the lobby burst a cascading stream of tentacle after tentacle that instantly began to fill every facet of the room and grab at whatever they could. Furniture, the injured, doctors, refugees and guards.
Anyone or anything unfortunate enough to not escape in time was hooked and dragged into the ever undulating arms erupting from the sinkhole formed at the center of the room as water still being sprayed by the fire control systems drained down into the basin formed by the kraken-like being now set upon the embassy.
By the time the room had been emptied, the arms were now extended into any nearby room that could be found as, from out of the hole, emerged a beast of a hundred eyes and thousand teeth. From its croaking maw erupting a rattling screech as he pulled itself forth and into the ash of the compound. Something straight of the swamps beyond Kaban, and now set upon the embassy like an unleashed monster; using the few standing support columns set around the lobby room to begin lifting its hulking, wet hide from out of the abyss below.
Calico saw Ophenia downstairs, a moment of peace and happiness crossing his face as he realised, she and at least most of the students were safe. Not all had made it though and the corpse of Zeister out in the courtyard made his face darken once more. He had never liked the man in any capacity, but his people had fought valiantly. His death seemed to spur them into action further.
He grabbed onto the stairs railing as the Carnaithians dropped the floor above, coughing as the dust and smoke filled much of the embassy. He rushed down to check on some of the civilians, seeing the still empty form of Ambassador Khamir leant against a wall tears streaming down his dust covered face. How he wish this had never happened.
He didn’t need to ask Lyk if it had succeeded, the precise and focused fire from the Carnaithian troops mopping up the robots told him they had won at least a small victory. He winced in pain however as he tried to turn his body, his wound making itself abundantly clear.
“Your hurt” Ophenias voice took Calico off guard. The two had been in a relationship for several months, but their assignments had left them with little to no free time to see each other and they had mutually called it off. He was however, extremely happy to see her.
“Yea nothing serious” He grunted as she placed a hand on his chest to see.
“Its serious Cal” She shook her head. He sighed.
“I know, I have taken nano shots I should be fine for now. I promise ill try not to die but it m-“ He stopped, both him and Ophenia hearing the seismic shocks below them, before everyone in the room was wondering what was going on.
“Run!” He shouted to Ophenia, she only got several paces before being knocked to the ground by the sudden eruption from the floor of the creature that now sought to consume them all.
“BREACH! BREACH!” Calico shouted, causing searing pain in his chest as he pulled his mono-knife from the holster and sliced one of the tentacles which attempted to grab at him.
“Pull back and ready grenades!”
Lyk looked to Aphkaral in shock; 'we could use another bomb,' his eyes asked wordlessly, as his troopers panickedly threw their few remaining gas grenades towards the monstrosity or fired wildly at the writhing mass as they ran to the back of the building.
"Run for it! Get out back! It's between us and the attack!" the lieutenant yelled over the radio; he watched with a sinking heart as the witty soldier who had been holding an angle next to the front door was one of the last on the ground floor to be taken, fighting the end all the way. He swallowed the anxiety as the floor shifted beneath him - "It's going to take down the supports, get out!"
Kato fired a couple of rounds at the swirling tentacles and then stowed the pistol and drew her holobayonet again. A shortsword at best, it was still perfect for this kind of work, and Kato felt something akin to relief as she threw herself into the melee. Worries about firing angles, lines of sight, positioning, ammunition and more washed away as she leaned on pure muscle memory and countless hours of training. In short, efficient strokes she hacked at tentacle after tentacle, severing smaller ones entirely and sending larger ones away bleeding - it was still only a knife against a leviathan, but the lithe movements of the marine seemed almost impossible for someone in flak armour.
In a moment's respite, she felt a tug at her belt. Appius was pulling her last grenades away, and as she looked up he slung a belt at her with a couple of sidearm magazines still trapped in the webbing.
It took her only a second to realise what he intended. "Appius, no!" she barked, but the other marine was already away. Her mind, trying to distance itself from what was happening, focused on the strange fact that imperial culture seemed to seep quite successfully into the psyches of its subjects, Ingenious or not.
"Tennoheika, BANZAI!"
The red-and-white armoured marine sprang like a diver from the wreckage of a mezzanine, blazing bayonet in one hand, a bundle of grenades in the other, lunging towards the maw of the hideous beast beneath them...
The beast croaked and screeched like a panicked bird as it threw its emerging body to and fro. An animalistic, cushioned scream that matched the tone of the beast indicated that a second of the creatures was waiting below the first to escape from the depths below.
Tentacles flew in all directions. The stab from Calico sent the tendril flailing back in anguish before another came swiping at full force to bash the two Unionists alike whilst another went soaring straight for the wreck of the Union’s ambassador.
Still more tentacles came as Kato went about desperately hacking away at any that came near. Pretty soon the pained beast wised up to the blade in Kato’s hand and its limbs quickly became careful to deceive and trick her into making swings only to come from behind.
Bullets were having an effect despite the creature’s strength. But it was the Carnaithan gas grenades that sent the beast over the edge. The moment the gaseous weapons were deployed, the creature seemed to wail and shut all of its eyes. In an instant, every tentacle began to spasm and flail in an unnatural, rapid and unpredictable manner. Like frantic worms they smashed anything coming their way, whether that be grenades, projectiles or people.
Appius was bashed to his knees twice before he could stumble through the forest of limbs and into the creature’s becoming gullet. Where his disappearance was followed by a terrible boom and the instantaneous seizure of the failing beast. Every limb was pulled in by reflex; pulling the support beams in with it as half the building came toppling down upon the monster and anyone unfortunate enough to not escape the collapse.
By the end, the howls had stopped and what had previously been a packed and chaotic room filled with refugees, soldiers and staff was now a gutted mound of rubble.
The chaos had silenced now. But there was so little left.
Lieutenant Lyk, in the eerie quiet, upturned the rubble about himself and looked around. His shocked face, fur wet with anxious tears, swept the scene for his fellows. The cries of civilians were evident, so loud now that everything else was quiet. He'd heard that second monstrosity - was it dead beneath the first? He patted himself in a panic, looking for more gas grenades -
Calico and Ophenia threw themselves to the ground to avoid the tentacle, Khamir himself suddenly feeling a surge of life as the beast thing pulled itself free. The Ambassador who had been so utterly broken ducked before rolling to the side and scrabbling away.
"What the fuck is going on!" He shouted, suddenly shaken fully back into reality. Calico cried out in pain as he had hit the floor, Ophenia trying to drag the man away and out of the danger zone.
"Its all coming down!" Someone shouted, the rush of civilians and soldiers alike escaping the carnage was all that could be seen. Ophenia struggled with the armoured form of Calico, he was grunting in pain, gritting his teeth and clutching his chest, but Khamir came to their side, helping to pick Calico up with the woman and get him out of the way as the building collapsed, throwing them once more into dust and rubble.
They found a low wall and sheltered by it, Calicos breathing heavy and laboured.
"Is this really how it ends? I bet they will come in and shoot us" Khamir commented as he looked at the ruined state of the embassy and the ravages which had been done while he had been within a daze.
"We cant fight anymore" Ophenia breathlessly stated.
The clatter of rubble alerted others to movement as Kato hauled a severed tentacle off herself and struggled to her feet, covered in dust and blood. Dazed, she slipped her bayonet back into its holster, casting her eyes around the newly-transformed room. Her mind raced to understand what was happening, and ultimately gave up. Her eyes settled on a discarded rifle, a model she didn't recognise, and she picked up it, hefting the unfamiliar weight, then staggered over to Ophenia and Calico, guided by their voices.
"Come on. We need to get out of here." she said, strangely matter-of-fact, not really looking at the two. She span as Lyk displaced rubble, but the sight of his fur reassured her that it was not a native protestor here to butcher the few survivors.
As the dust settled, everyone was left to see what remained of their holdout. Bricks, concrete and rebar now lined the floor in hills of detritus that rested upon the mangled corpse of the creature that had emerged from below. The limbs of the fallen jutted from the mess as reminders of the countless dead that now occupied the remnants of the embassy, some were detached from their bodies entirely.
The wailing and screams of lost souls from the clouds of dust were all that were left. The gunfire had all but ceased. Caked in blood, sweat and detritus, those who had survived were now left amid a smoking husk of their residence. Their battle was over, but so too was it over for the revolutionaries. From beyond the hollowed out shadow of the colonial embassy’s lay the dead and dying of countless residents to the city. Men, women, even children, were all counted among the casualties of the violence. The energy of the people had faded with the complete destruction of their target and the massacre of hundreds.
It didn’t take long before the ringleaders and organizers, those that called themselves commanders of the Anti-Colonial rebellion of Kaban, ordered that their mobs moved on. There were still the paramilitaries, who were harder than ever like cornered rats, to fight, as well as what little was left of the old government of the city. The rebellion had come to the avenue to crush the symbol of the galactic order’s complicity in the Tesfeld puppet-state’s crimes, and they had done exactly that.
Perhaps the rebel’s saw their victory here as complete, perhaps their leader’s were wise enough to see that all that could be achieved now was an atrocity, or perhaps it was the influence from an Orillian ambassador’s pity. It could have been any factor, or something more, but with the battle over, the masses grew thin and the quiet streets grew empty.
The revolutionaries never truly went away, of course. Envoy Avenue would continue to be plagued by independent looters, rebels or the plain curious trying to approach the ruins, only to scamper at the first sights of whomever remained. The catastrophic collapse of the ASN Tower, the skyscraper that had shone through the night sky like a beacon of hope, that someone else was out there still surviving, and deaths of all its occupants, indicated the last death bells of any energy left in this madness. Soon after, news of the Corporate Sector’s disintegration arrived.
With a carcass left of the embassies, those who survived chartered plans for themselves. Some holed up and kept the prying eyes of the wary rioters at bay with the barrel of their guns and gleams of their knives, holding onto the ASN’s words of an eventual reprieve. Some others would form parties to smuggle themselves to wherever they could find safety like Boxer’s store, the loyalist neighbourhoods, or the Orillian compound. Most would make their way to the security of the Royal Federation’s legation, who had escaped the worst of the violence. In some cases, refugees and defenders simply melted away, preferring to take their chances in the backroads and alleys of the city.
The Jade forces would eventually return to their Consulate multiple times over the following week to secure files, what additional supplies they could find, and gather whatever else. There was little remaining though. The bonsai tree and miniature garden was now nothing but an ash-ridden silhouette of its former purity. Nothing had remained of their peaceful little corner of this once vibrant city but fire and embers.
Those who survived would eventually be relieved nearly two weeks later. The diplomatic solution that the Tetlisun government had worked so hard to achieve had at last prevailed. It had only taken a month of suffering and countless deaths to achieve the bloodless solution. The truce allowed international organizations to, at last, filter into the city with the aid of the rebel organizations, most significantly the Kabanite Liberation Front. The evacuation of all Non-Telirans was part of the arrangement which finally allowed those still breathing to leave their torment under cover of an armored convoy.
Through the entire course of what would become known as ‘The Kaban Anarchy’ by foreign onlookers, tens of thousands were killed, mostly Sasonish civilians. Billions upon billions of credits were burnt in the destruction of everything the city had built. So many had died in the name of anti-hegemonism and globalism. Little did onlookers know that the ideas experimented here in this bloodbath, that beset neighbors upon each other like mad dogs, would be an omen for the whole galaxy years on.
The struggle in Kaban continued long after those outsiders of the country had been evacuated. But the Tesfeld government, now backed by a rejuvenated Kalethian government, used the truce to prepare their offensive to ‘re-pacify’ the separatists. Mile-by-mile, the puppet-government would retake their occupied territories and eventually their old colonial capital, Kaban itself. Jungles were decimated with chemicals, Sasonish tribes were forcibly imprisoned to prevent aid to guerrillas, and Kaban itself was smashed to pieces by the Tesfeld spearhead through sheer, unpopular attrition. Little remained of the city, or the country, by the end of a conflict. It would never truly resolve, and the people of Sasona would know this renewed cycle of rebellion and suffering for decades to come.
All those ambassadorial staff that fought in the Kaban Anarchy went home with sympathy. But their struggles would soon be overlooked or forgotten. To outsiders, the battle was ‘a bloody incident’; no one truly understood what those defenders of Chrysaor Castle, Envoy Avenue, the Citadel and beyond went through, nor did anything make up for it. Any consciousness to the incident and the battle that took place would soon be forgotten by everyone with the all-engulfing clouds of galactic war, everyone except those that survived it.
No faction won the anarchy. Everyone who rebelled or fought in it only lost. The colonials lost their homes and comrades, the Kabanites lost their friends, family and city, President Monatt lost his life and Tesfeld lost its peace; even the Kalethian President would be assassinated years later. The only man who won from the chaos was the Stadtholder himself, Mose Tetlisun: the man who had covertly caused all of this, who used the event to empower his position yet further, ostensibly to prevent such a tragedy from occurring again. But the strife in Kaban would signal the chaos that would set the whole planet ablaze soon after, and mark the downfall of even the Stadtholder too, in time.
But that all lay ahead, in the future.
The Siege of the Embassies had barely lasted a week, yet it could’ve been a year to those that weathered it. But all that mattered to those defenders as they trundled down the broken city streets, and away from the site of their woes, was that they had survived.
It was all over now.