Post by nocreditneo on Mar 22, 2023 8:39:56 GMT
A pair of days and harrowing nights had passed at a crawl for the competing wills within the dark city. The third day was coming to a close, and the sun was setting on the last bastion of defenders in Stakesby. The reclaimers had carved their way into the heart of the town, working their way from one generator to the next by the most grisly of methods: street-to-street close-quarters battle in the dark. For every generator they destroyed, a small sanctuary would sprout of light within the darkness. This corridor was sculpted from the inky darkness that the Justicars cast, and its price was steep.
The murky abyss worked against their optics well beyond the initial mission analysis. As the first scouts and armored formations of Jade, Minevan, and Carnaithian marines pushed into the city, they had found themselves flat-footed and entangled in a web of obstacles and booby traps. The Legion of House Jaros was the first bulwark of defenders- their knack for deep defenses and elaborate snares proving lethal to the bolder commanders making the advance; the commanders were still working off of the optimistic momentum from the success of the initial drops. The rapid envelopment and destruction of the initial vanguard served as a grim message to every leader on the ground. Very quickly, cooler head prevailed; the bulk of Minevan and Ingen leadership having learned their lessons from places such as Installation IV and Cass City in blood. The battle within Stakesby was going to be a slow, brutal affair.
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By the end of the first day, the first line of defenders had been broken through. Save for the corridor of destroyed Justicar Antiphoton Generators they had secured, the large swathes of darkness in between still housed a disorganized enemy that tried to continue hindering this advance. Cautious leaders took one street at a time, recouping their losses and securing connecting files before pushing even deeper into the urban core of Stakesby. The face of the town was not the same as their most recent intelligence, as many structures were now demolished and enormous rifts had been opened to unseen depths. Ground-penetrating scanners confirmed the suspicions of Minevan armored units, who were serving as the heart of the attack- the deck in many areas was questionable at best, if not outright too weak to support the tracked vehicles without the road giving out beneath them.
The Jade Empire’s leaders were cautious and methodical, and their pace was sharpened by the boldness of Minevan commanders and the ingenuity of Carnaithian officers. Units bounded together, baiting out counterattacks from the defenders and exploiting the gaps that exposed themselves.
The force continued to soldier on, cautiously taking one block at a time under constant harassment from walls of grenades and heavy doses of concussive rifle fire. The deeper they pushed, the more desperate the Justicars grew; hulking beasts in armor assailed them in the open, charges detonated to collapse the ground beneath their feet, and from dozens of tunnels hordes of unarmored, smoldering thralls rushed to tear the marines apart by hand. While the Jaros Legionnaires were crushed due to their numeric limitations, it appeared that the Justicars lacked any such issues.
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Automatic weapons and the tactical use of combined arms leveled the playing field; the tenacity of the attackers matched the unrelenting sea of Justicar forces crashing upon them. The only way to truly disorient the Justicars would be to kill the Judge at their command and control node: the individual entity connected to each of the different Justicar elements allowing the horde to act in perfect tandem. From sensors and intelligence, the source was in the vicinity of the late governor’s residence. Indirect fire and air assets tried to strike into the heart of the enemy through the darkness, but the unseen defenses interdicted the incoming weapons and chased the aircraft away with blankets of fire.
On the third day, the hordes of shambling humanoid figures grew from dozens to hundreds in number, with no indication of slowing down. All throughout the city, positions that were once secured were abandoned and consolidated into strong defensive perimeters.
This left one critical task for the infantry; seize the governor’s residence by fire and maneuver…
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SOUTH OF THE GOVERNOR’S RESIDENCE – THE FINAL BRIDGE
Relatively speaking, Cevant Jace Falkoner’s 1st Rifle Platoon of the Sweetwater Provisional was in the eye of the storm- even as the third assault across the golden bridge was in a rout. It was almost impossible to distinguish the desperate transmissions in his helmet’s comm suite from his own retreating men as they were chased away by grenades, or from his peer commanders to the south as they fended off waves of frenzied melee mobs. He had just gotten to the ‘friendly’ southern side of the bridge, taking refuge behind the remains of a hovertank before turning his attention back to the north.
The bridge in question was a monolithic golden beast suspended over an inky abyss over a hundred feet across; it was decorated with barriers and cover, with an assortment of corpses of friend and foe alike. On the far side of the bridge was a towering wall of utter blackness- the dark aura of antiphotons that he had just led what was left of his men into thrice before. The same could be said for his east and west- as far as he could see, the bottomless pit spanned ahead and this bridge was his only way ahead.
Jace’s 1st Rifles was running out of marines; he doubted he had enough for a fourth run, although the voices calling over his network reminded him he had no choice. Jace leveled his rifle. His heads-up display highlighted his marines in green, and their pursuing Justicars in a bright red.
CRACK- CRACK- CRACK-
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His rifle loudly snapped with beams of scarlet- his first shot stopping a Bailiff dead in their tracks and the rest slowing down the most eager of its followers. There were still a handful of Minevan marines breaking contact, some limping, others returning fire, a few dragging the wounded to safety. Enough of his marines had made it to cover on the secure side, as shown by the disciplined volleys of rifle fire driving the gilded armored initiates to fall back into the dark.
“Falkoner- Maddox! I have more reports of isolated units - we’ve smoked a thousand shamblers and there’s no end- status?”
Jace gritted his teeth, fangs bared for none to see as he took stock of his troops. Their pursuers had been driven off for now. They took this reprieve to stabilize their wounded and pass around ammunition. The 1st Rifles were little more than a dozen now- including walking wounded. They were a proverbial rock’s toss from their objective, and it was quite literally a bridge too far.
“The intel is fucked, Maddox,” Jace spat, “My only way north is a chokepoint and I’m combat-ineffective.”
-
“There were a few runners headed your way- not a lot-“ A clean break in the transmission lingered for a tense moment, “Falkoner, you gotta make it work or we are going to fall back.”
Jace didn’t reply. In the safety of cover, he took off his helmet and allowed the cool air to kiss his sweaty skin. With a deep breath, he considers his options- or rather, the lack thereof. He was going to lead his marines through a fourth assault over the bridge, and they were all going to die. His heart fluttered as thoughts of his late mother and living lover flashed in his mind- a legacy that was going to end, and leaving Pico far earlier than he had expected. He sighed.
“What a fucking drag.”
He drew a deep breath and sealed his helmet on for what he thought would be the last time. The thought crossed his mind that this reverie was much too long; the incoming fire had stopped. Their pursuers had all returned to concealment- they were consolidating as well. Jace was confident that a counterattack was imminent. His suspicions were confirmed as sensors relayed heavy weapons powering up- likely what was left of the same grenade batteries that had hammered them coming in.
-
“This is it!” He bellowed, “Look alive!”
In the middle of the road centered on the bridge, an individual passed by Jace in a lively gait- a woman clad in jaunty robes draped over discreet armor, and atop her head a remarkably wide-brimmed hat. She was clean and glowing, a stark contrast to the grit and grime of the warzone they inhabited. Jace watched in disbelief, realizing who it was almost immediately.
“Ms. Krisra, what in the seven hells are you doing?!” He reached out, still hunkered down in cover.
Lightning flashed in her eyes, looking down her nose at the dark wall before her. Serashee continued to defiantly march ahead to the foot of the bridge, firmly planting her feet.
The Minevan woman scowled. “I will not stand by as these villains dare to rob us of good men!”
-
INCOMING! INCOMING!
-
Jace’s eyes widened, teeth grinding. The small voice in his helmet notified him of their imminent doom, no doubt from an endless stream of grenades. The integrated network in his display calculated the time-on-target of the incoming ordnance: an astounding two seconds before their position was vaporized. He glanced to his marines, who had become very intimate with the ground, before traversing to Sera. The woman stood unwavering, like a tall oak in the breeze.
She raised her hands, palms forward.
Innumerable detonations could be felt in their bones- safely overhead of the bridge and rift. As far as she could reach, Sera turned the empty air into an impregnable barrier for the plethora of incoming munitions. The volley of grenade fire had no indication of stopping, but for now, she was able to keep it at bay.
The chokepoint still needed to be negotiated- on the street was the tank Jace was using as cover, a line of ruined structures, and large debris strewn about for cover. In the darkness on the far side of the bridge, several small golden constructs could be seen that were still intact- through the haze, troops were moving. Over two-hundred meters to the north, ground-based reconnaissance was able to corroborate that the late governor’s residence was hosting the command signals to subordinate units. Every single bomb and precision munition that had attempted to strike had proved ineffectual- Judge Bomani awaited those bold enough to challenge him.
Before any of that, they needed to get across- Sera was able to stop the grenades, but she was unsure how long she could keep it up. The units in the rear were being overrun by a new, innumerable enemy. Time was running out.
Across the city, the 31st Regiment had bloodied itself in brutal combat, fighting inch by inch for the ruined remains of what had once been a thriving colonial hub. The hordes of shambling thralls proved even less of a concern than the Jaros mercenaries, who had made their initial bold strokes and then been crushed, their fangs drawn. The mindless attackers hurled themselves at the marines who responded with glowing spears and swords, drilled well and raised to war. Impenetrable hedges of polearms thrust back the unfortunate former residents, whilst swords slashed and hacked at those who made it past, but the thralls' real threat was in forcing the marines to switch postures.
A massed charge of unarmoured thralls would force the marines to cluster together as the fight devolved into hand-to-hand combat, allowing the gold-armoured Justicars waiting behind the lines to concentrate their fire, heedless of the destruction inflicted on their own slaves. The marines reacted by earmarking sharpshooters to gun down the Justicars as they exposed themselves, but the Justicars adapted by adding layers to their attacks. So the grind dragged on yard by bloody yard, until it became clear that the attackers needed to end this battle before it became a gore-soaked stalemate...
THE FINAL BRIDGE
There were cheers from the street behind Jace's marines, many voices raised in challenge as a group of Ingenious soldiers crossed a plaza and jogged towards his position. In black armour with white trim and gold lacquer, they were a stark contrast to the efficient, urban grey camouflage of the other marines in the city, some of whom were visible in the distance fighting to keep the plaza free of an unseen enemy.
At their head was a samurai with a billowing black cloak, the inner lining a surprising hot pink. He carried no gunspear, only a dai-katana in the old style, its blade curved, and he strode where his marines paced. They had the look of certified meat-eaters about them.
_
As they drew level with the 1st Rifles, the dozen Jade marines moved to join their allies, shoring up their gunline. Only two did not duck into cover; the leader and a stocky, shorter marine carried on until they were stood next to Sera.
"Nice day for it," remarked Mitsuyoshi from behind his snarling dragon-mask, his tone light as he watched Serashee hold off an entire company's worth of explosive rounds. Next to him, Sergeant Masamune grunted in irritation, staring towards the embattled governor's residence.
"A bastard." he remarked, not seeing any need to elaborate further.
Mitsuyoshi nodded, taking in the debris of the battle around him, the area littered with dead Justicars and Minevans. He turned back to the bridge and raised an arm, raising his head as he focused. The ground either side of the bridge began to shake, and his strained voice was barely audible over the sound of battle and rumbling of earth as he muttered in ancient East Wusian. Trickles of water began to appear in the far bank, before suddenly the ground seemed to erupt in a flood of water, the whole surface for several meters either side of the bridge collapsing into fast-flowing, murky water. It poured into the gap with a hissing roar, and almost immediately began to crack and grind again as the water was transmuted back into earth and stone. What had been a chokepoint was now a wide, shallow-sided bowl of earth, an indent in the ground marked in its center by a tilting and seemingly-pointless bridge.
Exhausted by the effort, Mitsuyoshi was glad his face was hidden by the helmet. He stood in silence for a moment, then turned his head to Masamune, who started and moved forwards, bellowing at his men.
"Quickly! Over now, before it falls apart! Go, go!"
The Jade marines rushed forwards with a cheer, some covering until the others reached the far lip of the bowl where they took positions for the next leapfrog.
"Shall we?" Mitsuyoshi asked Sera lightly, nodding his head northwards.
The chorus of Justicar grenade positions was suddenly met with gunfire spraying from the buildings opposite the ones that Mitsuyoshi and his entourage had appeared from; eight millimeter rounds gouting tracer-flame as they were cacophonously spewed towards the source of the assailant munitions. The mildly concussive blast of grenades being lobbed by low-velocity launchers marked the key note of the suppression, almost muffling the approach of an interesting Carnaithian.
While the Carnaithian regulars - calling them "marines," while technically true given the operations, was a misnomer seeing as they belonged to the atmospheric arms - had established themselves as excellent peer combatants to the heavily-armed Justicars, meeting them with their own high-velocity guns and high-volume individual grenade packs, they of course needed an ace in the hole whenever combat bogged down into block wars. Knight numbers had been spread incredibly thin, with only a hundred and twenty in all distributed amongst the yield of two assault ships, and those had been dwindled further by the attrition of warfare.
As a result, the surviving knights had been rendezvousing with the mustering sites of their slain brethren, assuming they weren't swallowed by the planet post-mortem. Absorbing their comrade's armor into their own, the blackstone masses that were the Knights' arms and armor had not only taken on increased mass, but broken past the critical point where its lithosynapses were firing - protecting the wearer out of self-preservation as well.
The individual that now approached the bridgehead was staggering in scope, his height at least doubled by his armor, wielding an obsidian greatshield and blackstone railgun now flanked by two sibling accelerators, offset so that he may also wield a more conventional blade - supported by tendrils sprouting from the back of his plate. He was known as lieutenant Yaalth, and he had been a welcome sight at several significant chokepoints.
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As his lumbering steps drew closer, noise contrasted by the grace offered by the natural connection between armor and operator, a grim smile could be eked out behind his translucent amethyst faceplate; one that was borne of confidence in comradery rather than out of brazen bravery.
"Those riflemen won't be crossing with us - they'll provide rear security once we're across and do their best to make sure we aren't surprised, but we need to cross fast or they won't be able to reposition appropriately!" he uttered as he came up alongside the rest of the composite allied platoon that had mustered. "And our hosts won't be stunned very long by that grenade barrage."
Jace was tired, and the Minevans were worse for wear- but he was not one to look a gift horse in the mouth. It appeared at least one of their adjacent units had caught up to them, and the fact that he wasn’t a red paste on the deck was a cherry on top. The Jade fighters had shored up their offensive line, and a fresh assortment of Carnaithian gunslingers had established a blocking position oriented to the south. The battlespace was reshaped in the blink of an eye, and conditions were set to accomplish the mission. He supposed that the fourth time would be the charm.
“Wounded stay and block- everyone else, up!” Jace hollered over the din. A handful of the Minevan marines bounded alongside their Ingen counterparts over the conjured earth, and into the brink of darkness on the far side to whatever fate awaited them. Justicar grenades safely detonated overhead, fragmentation and duds returning to their senders as the Minevan psion pushed her barrier further and further.
Centerstage, Sera remained firm, raising her other hand as the strain took its toll on her concentration. She felt the strong, familiar presence approach her; once she saw the peculiar helmet and heard the particular voice, her harsh eyes momentarily softened. There was no smile on her face, but a stiff upper lip decorated with a vibrant stream of scarlet on her pale flesh.
“We shall. Time and tide await none, and we are on the right side of neither,” Sera replied, sauntering forward with the Jade heir.
Yaalth joining them was a sight for sore eyes- a lumbering beast of a warrior standing twice the height of a fighting man provided some sense of security. She found his observation astute- thinking of herself in a similar predicament. She would not let on, but she was unsure how long she could withstand the stream of grenades herself- the only tells being the occasional twitch of a finger or momentary skip in breathing. They were all correct- they needed to act swiftly and boldly.
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“Let us find this Judge.”
The personnel that had crossed the passage were safe from the indirect fire, able to assume a dominant position on the far side of the chasm without being washed out by protective fires. Sera, on the other hand, continued to push her limits. She felt the ebb and flow of the psions throughout the matter around them- the very same particulate that allowed her to turn thin air into an impregnable barrier. Due north, she felt the crushing weight of the darkness and the aggressive projection of antiphotons; the veins in her forehead pronounced from her effort, but in moments the solid black began to weaken into whisps and tendrils of shadow, receding into the reaches of alleyways and buildings that she could not see.
The first sight was ominous: battered armor and equipment set upon ornate stands served as effigies- as their heads-up displays might show, ID’d and constructed from the equipment of Whitewharf’s original defenders who had been slain in the defense of the residence. Embedded into the earth along the side of the road were their broken blades and guns- a warning, perhaps, or a demonstration.
The road before them led straight to the governor’s residence- in their way, now clear as day, was a formidable force of Justicar soldiers preparing to repel their assault. The streets and rooftops were flooded by rifle-wielding initiates maneuvering to positions of cover or operating grenade launchers. The foremost allied soldiers could see a swarm of Bailiffs joining the fray, concussive greatmauls in their hands ready to bludgeon the boldest of the troopers to death.
Up the street, blocking the breadth of the road, was a trio of gargantuan Desolators- humanoid tanks in their own right with armor plating thick enough to crush an average man. Two of them bore tower shields, walling off the width of the street aside from a small opening in the center- which the third used to level a decadizing autocannon as large as an armored vehicle.
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The wall of grenades relented as several dozen elite Bailiffs launched their counterattack, diving toward the attacking marines and swinging hammers with fervor. With reckless abandon towards their allies, the sea of cat-helmed Initiates opened up with concussive small-arms fire. The decadizing autocannon of the Desolator had begun to spin up, threatening to spew a harrowing level of destructive particulate significant enough to stop an armor company in its tracks.
Another point of interest presented itself at this moment; the antiphoton projector that was the cause of this deadly friction and uncertainty was laid bare in a courtyard to their direct northwest, in plain view. The pylon was covered in a thick shroud, but thanks to Sera’s efforts the figure of the ten-meter obelisk was apparent to them.
Yaalth was surprisingly nimble despite the bulk of his gear, lurching forward readily alongside the front of the allied force. As a bulwark, his eyes searched for the keys that would undo the puzzle offered by the composite platoon... and he quickly latched onto it. Even ignoring his integrated sensor suite, buried and embedded in sapient glass, the shining bulk of Justicar Desolators was not one easily missed. Nor was that of their weaponry.
He'd watched similar decadizing weapons make ash out of the most complex armor systems the empire could muster, atomizing tanks usually capable of taking on a platoon of hostile peers and coming out on top with good positioning. He quickly raised his arm and let loose with his triad of accelerators, aiming for the gun that was sure to be far more fragile than its wielder, the long burst punctuated by the hulking tank breaking line of sight and intercepting the charging Bailiffs before they could engage with the less-prepared standard infantry he accompanied, greatsword moving like lightning with its first swing, strand-like tendrils of blackstone suddenly bulking up as more mass was utilized to maneuver the heft of the razor-sharp cleaver.
RoastBeef — 06/14/2022 1:20 PM
The barrage of fire from the initiates forced the marines to keep their heads down, denying them the opportunity to gun down the bailiffs at range, but as their hammer-wielding enemies drew closer their firing angles improved. Tosho watched as to his left, a gold-clad figure staggered as if walking into a storm, before collapsing in a hail of tiny orange-red explosions. To his right, however, Marine Aelfweard had panicked and extended his gunspear's haft prematurely. A Justicar sprang over the rubble Aelfweard was using as cover, beating his spear aside and then swinging back to deliver a crushing blow to the marine's chest. Next to him, Corporal Yen emptied her magazine into the Bailiff at point-blank range, spitting him with a dozen lances of flame as the metallic terror collapsed over the corpse of its victim. Before she could eject her weapon's cylindrical magazine and slot in a new one, however, the Justicar's comrade rushed the barricade, forcing her to parry desperately as she danced around his sweeping hammerblow attacks.
Tosho fired a burst from the hip and then surged forwards, arriving in time to see a third Bailiff approach the position. Calmly, he held his fire until the last second, snapping a burst at the armoured knee and then twitching his gunspear upwards to catch the stumbling warrior in the neck. Though the bullets had glanced off the tough golden plating, the energy-wreathed spearhead slid through the Justicar's gorget like a hot knife through butter. Tosho squeezed the trigger again to blast the weapon free of the corpse, then took his spear to the back of the last Justicar, rescuing Corporal Yen in the nick of time.
Mitsuyoshi watched this ongoing carnage, seeing a marine roll away from the gunline cursing at a concussive round wound to his leg. It was time to act. The hulking Yaalth had moved to combat the giant armoured beings directly to their front, which left him and Sera with one clear objective.
_
He turned to gaze at the photon pylon, and then suddenly broke left, ducking behind the buildings there. He encountered an unlucky initiate, who raised a rifle at him from the far end of an alleyway. Tempted to use his Idshii magic again, Mitsuyoshi restrained himself, knowing he would have to save it for the battles to come. Wasting his limited energy on one foot soldier would be reckless.
Instead he stepped aside, raising his sword and thumbing the safety on the hilt before raising an index to squeeze the trigger plate, sending several tiny bioplastic droplets of neon-helium supercritical fluid at the figure. There were tiny fiery bursts and the initiate fell away. Stepping over the body, he sheltered behind a shattered car as he took in the scene ahead. A half-dozen initiates were garrisoned in an old block building across the road, and had already spotted him, trying to suppress him with their rifles.
He painted the building and then called back to Tosho, who grunted in reply before bellowing at one of his marines further back. The man unslung his compound bow, extending it and nocking a kasen missile-arrow. Taking a second to connect to Mitsu's paint marker, he loosed the arrow into the sky. Its burners fired almost instantly, screaming back downwards aimed to lance into the initiate's position and deliver a turstrite explosive warhead to clear the path for the prince.
The two powerful forces clashed beyond the bridge, each side recoiling against one another like two mighty waves vying for dominance. The initial exchange was uncertain as the lines came to meet, evoking the essence one would witness in gladiators standing toe to toe in a cage- ready to exchange blows, knowing that only one would survive. All that was needed for absolute victory or defeat was for one side to waver or land a sneaky blow. In this instance, the wall of Justicars stood as a mighty Goliath, hammering down on their outclassed foe from their advantageous positions. The patchwork band of soldiers that stood at the mouth of the bridge defied their fate, standing tall against the rigged odds.
For every Justicar slain, another eagerly took their place; this was not true of the ensemble who had crossed the bridge. Given such, even as their guns punctured their armor and their blades carved their innards, the mob of Bailiffs continued to throw their lives away with wanton abandon. Every Initiate who was dispatched with an expertly-placed round was replaced by a fresh rifleman, raining down a new stream of concussive warheads while his comrade’s armor and insides were still freshly smoking. To the attackers’ direct front, every free inch of rooftop was occupied by a Justicar rifle going hot.
Even the strongest defense has a gap- a vulnerability to exploit, or a key strength they marry their confidence to wholesale. Yaalth’s quick thinking would see a dense slug fired over the cobble street, tossing debris and leaving a vapor trail in its visible wake. The Carnaithian’s round was skillfully planted between the pair of gargantuan shields, shredding the Desolator’s gruesome weapon into ribbons of scrap metal and sparks. Yaalth had delivered to the Justicars a punch in the nose; this confrontation of their key strength would reward them by postponing their certain annihilation for the time being.
-
Although the Desolator had lost its main gun, they wasted no time to continue. The pair of greatshields were hoisted into the air before expanding violently, metal extensions shooting from their sides. Their shields sundered rock and concrete as they were slammed, and splintered the timber of the structures they dug into. The Desolators stomped forward behind their impenetrable barriers. The slow, lumbering rhythm of the metal beasts crushing gravel with every step could be heard over the cacophony of battle. The beat drew nearer, louder- threatening their defeat as shot and bomb alike glanced off of the gilded sheen.
Jace knelt over the corpse of Lance Orova. Seeing a hole punched through her magenta optiglass visor by a concussive, he saw it best to not even bother with the triage. It was an unlucky hit, the type that no amount of training or planning could account for; simply a wide shot happening to connect and her having drawn her number. All aside, he was more interested in the Paladin Assault Launcher affixed to the hardpoints on her backplate, which he retrieved after unceremoniously flipping her face-down. “Forgive me, friend.”
It was a proper massacre, but he had already known how this song and dance was going to go. Less than a minute into the gunfight and at least a team’s worth of guns were already out of the fight. To make matters worse, he could both see and feel the multitude of rifles threatening to purge them from this existence.
-
He half-slung the unwieldy weapon from his dead comrade and joined the fighting line just meters ahead- just in time to help his Ingen counterparts meet the Bailiffs in close-quarters battle. Jace joined them with his rifle at the ready, offering the first two wailing Bailiffs a pair of disciplined drills to stop them dead in their tracks. However, he had underestimated the speed and number of their charge, as a third and fourth were upon him. He tried to shortstock his rifle, but it was struck and its forend irrevocably deformed. Jace discarded his weapon, his bright-red pushbeam extending from his gauntlet before the rifle had hit the ground. He lowered his stance and shot in before the Bailiff recovered from his swing, wildly punching and stabbing whatever the fat beam could make contact with.
Jace’s brute display and feral cries had sent his foe crumbling to the ground- but all across the gunline, the full wave of Bailiffs was pouring in and swinging wildly. Behind them, the Desolator’s wall ominously approached….
As the Jade bowman had pulled his weapon taught, the Justicar grenadiers took aim once more.
In Sera’s mind, the thread was clear. She could feel the lines drawing her between the eyes of the bowman and his mark. As the robust arrow was loosed, she coasted through the air- momentary peace above the exchange of fire. From the opposite rooftop, she could see the gunline, herself, their entire motley crew. She could see her hands charging the weapon, guiding the link of grenades, and sighting in on the marines.
Sera opened her eyes. She extended an arm towards the window roost of the opportunistic grenadier she’d found. Her palm turned to face the sky, before making a fist. Smoke and flame burst from the second-story window, followed by the sympathetic detonation of the entire link in her grasp.
-
The Kasen arrow struck true, matching the detonation across the clearing. Both buildings flanking the Justicar’s sinister pylon had suffered at the hands of well-placed explosives, dismembering Initiates and casting them to the ground below. The left flank was momentarily shocked; a gap in the endless river of concussive ammunition presented itself.
Sera grimaced as she felt a familiar pain, knowing she’d burst blood vessels in her eyes. The initial prices of exertion were shallow, and the knowledge of what could be if this fight were to take her to dark reaches… she did not linger on it. Chin held high, she trotted along after Mitsuyoshi who was prowling through the battlefield like a tiger on the hunt.
The street separating their opposing wills began to empty as the full brunt of the Bailiffs fell upon them. On their right flank, the Justicars in the garrison formed a formidable bulwark of riflemen, blasted directly into the melee as it reach a fever pitch. The center was owned by the Desolator wall, which was currently unmoved by the heavy weapons and small arms alike that had peppered it. The left flank, however, presented an opening for the time being, leading into a ruined courtyard with alleys beyond the Justicars’ pylon.
As valiant of fighters that the Ingen, Carnaithian, and Minevan troops were, they were outmanned, outgunned, and below their enemies. Bottomless grit and fickle luck alone may not have been enough.
There was a ripple of explosions from the enemy's right flank, and few of the Jade Marines had the time to realise that Sera had contributed greatly to the devastation - instead they simply assumed that their missile had struck true. Further thought on the matter was cast aside as a wall of golden Bailiffs swarmed them, roaring across the intersection with energy weapons gripped purposefully as they clambered over the barricades. Tosho fired a burst, staggering but not wounding one Bailiff, and then stamped his spear forwards to plunge it into the exposed armpit of another, who collapsed with a hiss of burning flesh and crackling energy.
Beside Tosho, Corporal Yen swayed back to avoid one hammerblow, then turned another aside with her speartip and cracked the butt against her attacker's knee, toppling him, but before she could reverse the spear to finish him off a third Bailiff swung a mighty blow which lifted Yen off her feet. She was dead before she hit the ground, tumbling with a sickening crunch to the flagstone street.
Tosho bellowed in rage and was about to carry his spear against the three Bailiffs to his right when he spotted Marines Vignar and Shinobu beyond, levelling their weapons. He broke right, falling back to the rear where several other marines were providing covering fire, as Vignar and Shinobu opened fire on the three Bailiffs from close range, hosing the Bailiffs down with 10mm fire.
On the left flank, Sergeant Vauban watched as Sera strode past, her eyes streaked, and then shrugged it off and moved to cover the remaining two marines on the barricades there, a Minevan and Imperial who were practically back-to-back as they struggled to hold off the Bailiff tide. Picking his shots, Vauban tried to offer supporting fire from the flank the best he could.
_
On the far left, Mitsuyoshi yelled orders into his helmet comms as he surged forwards towards the great cloud of flame, smoke and dust that marked the former position of the Initiates. Somewhere in that cloud was the pylon, but as he reached the centre of the street a golden figure emerged from the murk, swinging a huge hammer.
Making a split-second decision, Mitsuyoshi darted forwards, going inside the swing and throwing it over his left shoulder with a two-handed parry that left his blade at waist level, inside the enemy's guard. He swung it forwards in a sharp, practiced blow but the Bailiff threw his own left elbow at the Prince, ringing his helmet like a hammer on a bell. Mitsuyoshi staggered, dazed, and felt the giant Bailiff's hand grab at his breastplate, the enemy warrior clearly hoping to draw the Prince in close and maul him with his superior size and strength.
He knew he only had a moment left to him, and he grabbed the Bailiff's arm at the joint, his own fingers wrapping around the man's elbow. Diving into his fear and anger, he reached out to summon idshii magic once more, willing the world to change around him. Suddenly the Bailiff's elbow was ablaze, fire licking from between Mitsuyoshi's fingers as the Justicar's bodily tissues caught fire. The grip lessened immediately and Mitsuyoshi yanked himself from the Bailiff's grasp, swinging a wild one-handed blow at his leg that failed to break the man's armour but knocked him to one knee. Taking another step back he gripped the sword in both hands and raised it high over his head, whistling down in an arcing blow to hack halfway through the armoured neck and topple the maimed Justicar backwards.
Panting with exhaustion, Mitsuyoshi did not stop, but continued into the gloom. Another Initiate staggered from the wreckage, coughing, and he blasted the figure away with his gunsword before stopping, leaning against a piece of rubble. The pylon loomed through the smoke, a menacing and hulking form.
_
He tugged a grenade from his belt, primed it and threw it. He did not expect it to do much damage, but the heat bloom would serve as a marker for the kasen missile launcher on the next street, and sure enough even before the patter of falling debris had faded, he heard the distinct whine of a rocket firing as the second arrow screamed towards the pylon.
What he did not hear, but what Tosho and the others back on the barricade did, was an inhuman screech from the road behind them. Glancing backwards, Tosho grinned inside his helmet. He had heard Mitsuyoshi calling for reinforcements earlier, but he hadn't been paying enough attention. Now he saw which unit Mitsuyoshi had summoned to help them overcome the remaining Bailiffs and the warren of Initiates on their right flank. It was one of the battalion command platoons. The ceremonial parade platoon.
Yaalth had found himself as a bulwark between the throngs of invaders and but one fire sector of the down-trodden liberators - already, his tar-glass armor had been pockmarked by enemy rounds, but a half-dozen of their hammer-armed compatriots found themselves laid at his feet. Yet that same number approached in cohesion, ready to bring the giant down. He grimaced in his helmet, meeting their coordinated approach with his own war march, his steps felt in the ground in a way not unlike the desolators, though lesser in impact.
His greater reach offered him first strike opportunity. As more supporting rounds dug into his plate and it reformed in kind, he drew back with his right arm and blocked the left pair of bailiffs from attacking him with his monolithic shield; As the enemy picked up their pace, he swung overhead with his misnomic zwiehander at the #3 attacker, who - in a respectable move - raised his hammer to block it.
But his tendrils pulled it right; it cleaved the first of them in twain with ease, slowing down as it penetrated the second and sheared his armor and exposed his flesh to the air, and crunched into the third, his armor preventing a complete pass-through. But what was done was done; the unanticipated attack had halved the teams' number with ease, and the other three were so far left to attack the lieutenant. His swinging arm had not been idle, however. With the energy thrown into his blocking motion, the bailiff at number three had lost his energy and sacrificed momentum so that he could not react so deftly once more - the armored hand of Yaalth's sapient suit wrapped around the gleaming helm of the assailant as hammers struck his shield with noted percussive force. Not one to let such a gesture go unmet, he swung the most reactive of their number left, knitting plate and hammer into an awful mess of converted flesh. The last of the half-dozen was already raising his hammer above his form, ready to strike down on the knight lieutenant.
His blade had been returning to its former position at its hand, and its heft inherently offered momentum to his body. As it appeared that Yaalth was standing ready to receive the blow, the revel in combat could almost be felt wafting off of the bailiff as he watched the Carnaithian lean farther and farther back past standing, as if he was trying to back away from the hammer... Until his greave was accelerated with the force of a ballista into the Justicar linemans' chest, catapulting the soldier back into his own lines and toppling two more, his hammer slowly rattling on the street below, cleanly marking where the trooper had once stood. A round impacted Yaalth's helmet, shearing off one of its peripheral spikes.
As another tendril sprouted to catch the separated material and re-introduce it to the mass, the knight once more raised his right arm towards the source of the fire; with malice the triple-linked guns fired away, marking the firing line with hypervelocity impacts. He couldn't help but worry about the encroaching desolators; the slight cacaphony approaching from behind made him wonder, but he had yet to know its source.
Above the report of weapons sounded the splintering of bone and armor, as two lines of armored warriors met to bash and hack away at one another. Justicar ablatives smoked as energy weapons seared their way through and charred their fungal cells. Ingen and Minevan marines bled from shattered bones and liquefied organs. The fighting line itself grew thin as soldiers from each side were slain, leaving only the lucky and strong to inherit the battle.
Unlike the pragmatic tactics of the coalition below, the Justicars held no reservations over slaying their own men. As marines carefully picked their shots and checked their fires before letting into the Bailiffs, the Initiates simply continued to shower friend and foe alike with an endless stream of concussive rounds; upon the roof were just as many Justicar rifles as Jace had- well before his first assault hours ago that had cost him his platoon. This created a conundrum for those trying to dodge the swing of hammers; Trooper Tiya on the right flank would be the first to understand.
Tiya had slain two Bailiffs on his own; the first was dispatched with the expert use of his weapon, and the second from the sneaky use of his graz knife as a large shiv. A third Bailiff, however, tossed himself upon the Minevan- superhuman strength immobilizing Tiya’s arms and denying him leverage to utilize his weapons. Before he could squirm free, concussive rounds rained on them both and shattered their armor. The two interlocked enemies died in a burst of golden and dull metals.
-
The Jade marines and Vaalth were not spared this treatment. Those fighting for their life in the melee found themselves peppered with an immense volume of fire. Those who had darted back for cover or to regroup were chased and harassed in the same manner- each near-miss sending up showers of hard cobble and earth, a signature of the threat they were facing. Bailiffs across the line were caught in the crossfire and fell dead in this attempt to ensnare the surviving soldiers.
The left flank of their attack was clearing up, turning more into a proper gunfight than a line of duels. Jace took the opportunity to not get minced by a hail of incoming rounds, sheathing his energy-pushblade and darting behind the structures to his left, ending up alongside Sergeant Vauban who was busy killing. From the sturdier cover, he could more comfortably take stock of the situation.
Or rather, he could watch as the gargantuan Blackstone knight stood front and center, eviscerating his ample opponents and shaking his head at small arms fire as if it was pebbles being thrown by children. The Carnaithian murdered the Bailiffs in the same manner in which Jace drew breath: natural, unthinking. They were fortunate to have such a friend in this endeavor, lest they’d have to rely on the same luck (and air support) that Raiders like Hendrick Vandar had in the prior week.
Jace was so lost in the spectacle he almost forget to prep his rocket, arming the Paladin with the flip of a switch and charging a lever next to the trigger assembly. He was searching for a target of opportunity, with the consideration that the launcher only had two warheads before it was spent. He was uncertain it had the kick to gut through a Desolator’s shield, but as the giants continued their advance down the center, he saw his options running thin.
-
The Desolators continued stomping forward, taunting Vaalth with their presence. For a moment, their wall parted down the center, exposing the initial Desolator that had suffered the destruction of his cannon. With a roar, the beast charged forth, the road rumbling and turning to gravel beneath its immense boots. The shield wall closed once again, leaving the Desolator exposed in the open, brandishing its ghastly weapon; it held a thick pole, adorned on either end by chains from which hung Arbiterium orbs the size of boulders. The giant continued its mad dash, swinging the weapon to show the Carnaithian his fate: each warning shot to the deck erupted in a blast, leaving a crater that would make an artillery chief blush.
Jace saw his opportunity, trying to follow the crazed behemoth in the short opening it had provided. By the time he’d presented his sights, the Desolator had closed half the distance. Seeing he was out of time, he saw gold and slammed the trigger.
Jace missed.
With a deep bellow, the Desolator spun the dire flail overhead, bringing the blunt boulders down upon Vaalth. The shaped charge flew wide behind him, fortunately finding some purchase in the second-story garrison of Justicar initiates.
As the Ingen reinforcements approached the battle, those beyond the bridge could see that the darkness began to flicker and dissipate. As Mitsuyoshi fragged and marked the Justicar Pylon for attack, the repeated assault on the structure was yielding effects. The battlespace became clear, albeit still rampant with the dust and smoke characteristic of war. At the very list, their attacks were beginning to mitigate at least one factor of the chaos.
-
Mitsuyoshi and Sera bounded across the street, and the Justicar garrison around the courtyard was in disarray- barely regrouping to attempt returning fire at Vauban or levying rounds towards the pair of leaders. Sera could feel the hostile intent along their flanks, raising empty hands to create curtains to catch the projectiles. She turned to cover his back, watching another Initiate stumble out of the rubble from the most recent rocket attack in a daze. Their gazes locked. He scrambled to ready his weapon. Sera simply raised her palm towards him; in a puff, the scuffed Initiate was blasted into a grey mist.
They could see that the Justicar Pylon was cracked, its smoke and sparks indicated that it was already heavily damaged. Every second that passed showed the darkness intermittently ebb, the sunlight bearing down on the retreating walls of black. The Justicars on the left flank began to retreat with it, in an attempt to muster a force cohesive enough to hold ground.
While the Justicar flank collapsed, however, something was going terribly wrong. The sunlight washed upon the ground and stoney roads, and thick smoke billowed from down below. Cracks began to widen, growing from hairlines to small fissures across the length of the firefight. For now, they were a few inches wide, angrily spewing clouds of smoke and ash as the sunlight fought to touch all that lay below.
The Justicar photosensitivity caused short death if they were torn from their armor and exposed to the stars. The same could be said of their subterranean networks, hidden from the light of day. Holes in the deck brought their living communication networks to light, and their underground networks began to erupt in flames; it could be felt in the form of detonations beneath them.
-
The ground to the north was solid, and they were running short on time.
Mitsuyoshi took in the rumbling around them and decided that the safest path was forward. The ground beneath them was beginning to collapse in a fiery maelstrom, and would no doubt take the damaged pylon with it; there was no sense in sharing the same fate. He surged forwards, rushing the withdrawing initiates, knowing that falling back was only a single jolted nerve away from routing.
He conserved his idshii, instead simply raising his sword and sprinting flat out, his genetically enhanced body letting him move faster than the average humanoid as he bore down on the backs of the golden infantry, hurling himself at the densest knot in a flurry of sword blows punctuated by argent blasts as he triggered the plasma bursts from its tip at point blank range.
On the main street, Tosho watched as the Bailiff surge buckled the front line, killing Marine Sudawara. Only one of their Minevan comrades was left, and his own troop had been split into three, with a couple of men isolated on the right out of sight, Vauban sheltered behind some rubble over on his left, and the remaining marines with Tosho behind the barricades on the main road. Only the Carnaithian knight in his power armour stood between them and being swamped, and he was now duelling with a colossal Justicar warrior, decked in gold and wielding a cruel-looking flail.
Relief, when it came, was sudden and fast. The sound of pounding feet, thudding more rapidly than any human, went barely unnoticed over the clangour of battle, but then suddenly there was a shrieking, hissing roar and a flurry of shapes whipped past him, buffeting the air as they went.
Deinonychus. A raptorial species of dinosaur, almost as tall as a man, with wickedly grasping claws and sharp minds, they were used in a similar manner to dogs, able to track, hunt and keep watch, biddable and able to build bonds thanks to their pack instincts.
_
These beasts were not throwing themselves into the fray unaided, however. Each bore a collar from which hung a hardlight personal defense system, generating screens of hardlight that popped up and shattered as they held off incoming rounds. Their claws were sheathed in light, hardlight generator rings attached to their digits, and they swarmed across the bridge like a plague.
Tosho watched as two were hurled from their feet with an ungodly screech, the percussive blast of a grenade tossing them to the ground. Only one scrambled back to its feet, bellowing in anger and shaking its ruddy feathers as it hurried onwards. The beasts flooded the surviving Bailiffs, springing at them and using their body weight to knock them off balance before seeking purchase with their vicious claws, prying and puncturing to expose the soft flesh beneath, snarling in confusion as it disintegrated at the touch of the weak sunlight filtering through the dying pylon field.
Others flooded past the battle at the bridge, crashing into the buildings on the right and turning the interior of them into a charnel house full of screams and shrieks, man and animal dying and killing in a confused, tangled mess.
Tosho knew this was their chance. "Advance! Go!" he bellowed, steeling himself and rushing forwards himself. He spiked a Bailiff who was wrestling on the ground with one of the raptors, then moved to one side to give Vaalth and the Desolator a wide berth. His marines followed him, the bowman stopped momentarily to loose a kasen rocket at the Desolator's back before turning to jog onwards, rushing to escape the chaos of the fight and of the increasingly unstable ground.
As fast as he could muster it, Yaalth brought his shield and blade up to bear. As the bulk of the flail came in to impact his defense, the minevan rocket flew past - a gesture worse than useless. At most, it burnished the gold of the desolator's plate, but its engine - still at full burn, given the small distance into its acceleration phase - backlit the rock and burned a nice sunspot into the Lieutenant's focused eyes. The numbing, stumbling, shocking impact of the Justicar weapon threatened to spin him about on the first strike, and followed up on that threat with the second, throwing the blade out of his hands and cracking his shield down its spine. He stumbled, bracing on his back foot as his armor shifted the weight of its fluid component to prevent a fall. He brandished the keen points of his triple-linked guns, outstretching his left hand in a duelist's stance - but the enemy was already putting momentum into the next strike.
As the beasts' bellows reached its apex and the Carnaithian deigned to jump away, neither got to loose their blow. The ground at their thundering feet buckled, shifting in a direction neither was prepared for. While the knight stumbled back into a position of purchase, the Justicar was now in the position of disadvantage as his weapon's weight sent him earthward, though its inhuman tenacity led it to a quick rebuke.
Yaalth thrusted the bayonet-like muzzles towards the face of the enemy, who caught the points in the chains linking its weights to the staff. With a twist, they broke, and the weight of the defender's golden right fist was carried into the glass muzzle of Yaalth's helm. The image cracked, but stayed true. In response, the tarry tendrils grasped the wrist, and the glass broken into the chain denatured - gunking up the links and reducing the application of the weapon. Desperate, the desolator rolled back, kicking the lighter - if only - Imperial's frame back in an effort to free himself from the grapple; But the tar stayed its grip, dragging the heavier of the two back onto his belly. Quick and determined not to let this carry on, the canid lashed back out at the enemy that was attempting to stand - tar offering its weight to his fist, he inverted the elbow of the entrapped arm, calling forth a bellow from the defender.
He kept up the advance even as the Desolator rolled back once more, the shock of the assault loosening his grip on his weapon, levelling the field. He slugged with his fair arm, impacting the opposite side of the blackstone helm that kept him nailed to the deck. Yaalth, slightly stunned, only barely grabbed onto the uninjured wrist that carried itself and him back in the motion to prepare another swing - and the sapient armor let go of the shattered arm, now wrapping themselves around the neck of the enemy. He saw his chance.
As raptids began to trickle by, the shouts of the titans quieted into grunts and curses as Yaalth battled the desolator's free arm to get at its helmet. He wrapped his hands underneath the shallow hood at the jaw of the enemy, its dome-like form impervious to cutting attacks or bullets, as he stared into the round eye analogues upon its front. An elbow found itself striking a digitigrade leg as the desolator let out another roar, the Carnaithian mustering his strength to pull back on the helmet, tendrils pushing down on the torso.
The powered armor, sealed tight to prevent even light entering, was strong enough to seem as sapient as the blackstone cladding of the Knight - but Yaalth wasn't letting the weakened foe regain any ground, and pulled with all his might, yelling to the sky as he threatened to pull his muscles from his own bones - even this thought leading to his armor bracing - until the helmet came free, the enemy immediately going silent, weight of his form lessening as dust poured out of armor and the Carnaithian fell back to the ground.
Now surrounded by dinosaurs, Yaalth allowed himself a yell in victory as he rolled back onto his arms and stood, running off of the shifted ground and retrieving his blade. He Took a quick note; the tendrils had reclaimed the shattered tar left in the flail as he moved to stand, and the cracks in his armor were beginning to mend; translucent fluid filling through the cracks not unlike an LCD display. A moment was all he allowed himself, however, as he and his marred armor braced to help push the advance.
Inside the Justicar garrison, Darwishi was barely rallying his soldiers; the senior Justicar was now no longer simply trying to withstand an attack, but the incessant counseling of his subordinate commanders trying to persuade him to order a retreat and regroup. They still held an obvious manpower advantage, but they were getting cut down in the open even accounting for their superhuman abilities. The Bailiff accompanying him had already put a few of the insubordinate rabble to death in a swift field judgement- reasonable penance for attempting to abandon their posts and their lack of integrity to their righteous cause.
The room was filled with smoke and Darwishi could tell that their shroud of darkness was fading, signaling that their device across the street was now damaged or destroyed. The ground was rumbling. The air was filled with an immeasurable number of rifles firing wild. Outside, embers rose with the billows.
“Keep them out!”
He paced confidently behind his many initiates, replacing their fallen comrades as they were shot through the windows.
“Hold them here- or the Grand Adjudicator is lost!”
The last of their reserves were deployed- all of his pieces were in play. Their enemy was tenacious, worthy of this fight. Pride filled his chest to be able to cut down such a fearsome foe.
Guttural, inhuman shrieks filled the air. Darwishi froze. Pride turned to confusion.
When the first raptor leapt from the smoke, confusion turned to chaos. Their second-story roosts were flooded with a packs of vicious carnivores, and their wall of concussive rifle fire raining down on the street suddenly began flying in every direction. Glancing outside, Darwishi could see the Bailiffs being torn apart like sheets of paper.
-
The Justicar slew one beast with a lucky pair of shots from his rifle, shattering the hardlight barrier and turning the open maw darting his way into a bony mush. There was little Darwishi could do, however, when his arms were seized and torn from his body- picked apart by the pack like prey and turned to ash.
-
Outside, the groans of shearing metal and the crackling of fissures signified the devolution of their battlefield. The bridge they had come in on gave way, crashing into the deep abyss below. Openings in the ground were growing beyond several feet wide- opening up along their flanks, cutting off the street behind the shield-bearers and swallowing the courtyard that Mitsuyoshi and Sera had barely passed. Scattered groups of initiates could be seen sprinting north up the main road, into the gate of the governor’s estate; the shroud was receding, and the courtyard was clear as far as they could see in.
On the road with Yaalth and Tosho’s marines, the Desolators were forced to abandon their greatshields as raptors simply climbed over and around the slabs. The dense Arbiterium armor was able to withstand the punishment of their rending claws as the beasts attempting to gain purchase on the giant warriors. Dexterous as they were, the lumbering and powerful Desolators were able to seize, crush, and bludgeon their first few attackers by hand alone- the force of their punches and vice-like grip forcing the hardlight barriers to fizzle into static with ease.
-
Another pair of deinonychus tried, forced to a standoff once a Desolator simply smacked one of them away- the Justicar elites were focused on their Carnaithian counterpart; the Carnaithian that had just torn their comrade from his suit. The duo roared and charged forth in a file- the Desolator in front charged with his arms crossed and hunched forward to clear the path, the one in the rear with his arms outstretched and ready to dive. Moments after Yaalth recovered, the empty-handed Desolators clad in gold collided against the blackstone knight with the force of a train.
Yaalth was caught in a grapple, the Justicar garrison in the building had devolved into a free-for-all slaughter, but Jace and Tosho’s troop were making their way ahead now unimpeded by a platoon’s-worth of cyclic concussive fire. As they trotted along, Jace turned to eye the melee between the giants; the red hardlight of his pushblade was still at the ready on his wrist and a pistol in his other hand, contemplating on how to contribute without getting turned into paste.
A pressure around his ankle broke his hasty train of thought, sending his gaze down to the cobblestone road laden in embers and soot. A wiry hand with grotesquely long finger was wrapped around his foot- the figure it was attached to was a gangly, deformed humanoid with a fragile frame and spindly limbs. Its flesh was leathery- a cracking reddish -brown flaking into dust and smoke ever so slowly. Its face was featureless, aside from irregular indentations where a face should have been.
Jace felt the heat and pressure through his armor- the touch was turning his gear to dust. Instinctively, he stomped on its head which promptly flattened into a dusty pile before pulling his leg free. From all around them, these shambling figures could be seen pulling themselves from the fissures below, all crawling and crouching about-
And then one broke out in a sprint towards the marines.
-
Serashee and Mitsuyoshi were able to continue northward relatively unimpeded as the fight just before them devolved. The gate was before them, their friends were behind them. Sera could feel her well deepen as the death toll rose, her mind serving as a mixing bowl of the essence of the slain Justicars, Yokari, Minevans and other creatures running about. Another presence overshadowed the growing pool in her head- the presence was more foreboding than the Adjudicator she and Mantiya had encountered in times long past.
Her trot along the prince came to a halt as she grasped the sode of his armor.
“Mitsu, the Judge is ahead,” Sera said, “There is something beyond our ken here- this Judge is not of his ordinary ilk, but…”
She was unsure. Her bloodshot scarlet eyes were narrowed in determination, but it was masking the fear of uncertainty.
Tosho watched as the scene devolved into a melee. The firing from ahead slackened instantly as screams and roars marked the progress of the raptors, the sounds suddenly drowned out by a grinding and wrenching as the street ahead of them collapsed. One of his marines let out a scream as a hideous, warped figure reared from the smoke and confusion to grapple at his neck.
"Forwards! Forwards!" Tosho bellowed, painting the building for his remaining half-dozen marines. Their vitredur blades flared in the darkness as the survivors hacked their way through the new monstrosities, hustling towards the devastating Justicar garrison. They carried their gunspears into the building, hunting down the last few survivors. Tosho found one Initiate wrestling desperately with a furious dinosaur in some kind of long conference room, and with a couple of swift steps crossed over to plunge his spear into the man's guts. The animal savaged the Initiate's helmet triumphantly before turning with a snarl on Tosho, before it suddenly stopped and cocked its head quizzically. As well as their training, Tosho knew that the beasts were controlled by earpieces through which they were given verbal commands - not all species were smart enough for this, but Deinonychus was practically sapient.
As his depleted platoon cleared the building, he crossed the corridor to the other side and spotted Sera and Mitsu, alone.
"Sergeant Vauban!" he yelled, "the platoon is yours. Hold this building at all costs."
With that, he jogged down a flight of damaged stairs and slipped out of a breach in the wall, stumbling down a pile of rubble to catch up to Mitsuyoshi and Sera. He said nothing, panting, just nodded at his Prince.
Mitsuyoshi nodded back, taking a moment to look over the gate the few Justicar soldiers had fled through.
"I think you're right. But they don't know us, either." he said. He checked his sword and then stepped forwards, pushing open the gate....
The impact was wildly powerful, fissures in Yaalth's chestplate announcing themselves as he felt his symbiotic armor quiver in what was best described as anger, immediately beginning a violent flurry of an assault on the helmet of the one who had taken the imperial in his arms and pitched the melee back to the ground. The heavy armored pot cracked as the second began his own assault, a tendril re-shaping into a spear and shoving itself into the skull of the attacker, plying the crack open to let the light in over the course of seconds.
With a glance to the widening gap and arms of new assailants reaching out of it, seconds was too long.
As his armor dealt with one, he twisted his body uncomfortably and brandished a small conventional knife - Jagged Knights were not above using standard-issue tools - and sunk it into the inner elbow of one arm of his new enemy. As the first's body sloughed off of the Carnaithian, and his armor refocused on the howling giant behind him, he struck the weakened flank of the enemy with his elbow - the slight loosening of a grip allowing him to slip out, an opportunity that he quickly took. A momentary extra flush of adrenaline as the Justicar again attempted to leap upon the liberator was all he needed to have the force necessary to kick the survivor down the hill; if not for the shifting environment, the panicked purchase on behalf of the Desolator may have kept him in the fight.
The lieutenant had quickly retrieved as much of the blackstone volume as he could before reforming with his allies; while he had retrieved his shield and blade, he was down several pounds of material after the flurry of explosions and melee, and his armor was doing its best to reshape itself into a good state, but these things took time. Highest priority given the need for repairs to his armor was re-activating his railguns, their muzzles almost completely returned to normal by the time he arrived.
His steps announced his presence; he smiled in astonished gratefulness behind his faceplate, happy to have allies more steadfast than himself. He activated his medical harness, painkillers and combat drugs being introduced to his bloodstream to replace, repair, and reinforce whatever had happened so far.
"My shield's big enough for more than just me," he said quietly, the crystal reverberating it to an appropriate volume as the slab was shifted to tendrils with longer and more flexible reach than his own arm.
COURTYARD
The open gate revealed a barren courtyard; the very same field that Captain Whitewharf's marines had fled across as they'd attempted to save the governor. The cracks here were nothing more than hairlines, and did not grow at the rate in the surrounding areas; the ground was steady and stable. The cobble road continued north, seeming to cut into the still-receding darkness as the Justicar's device continued to fail.
The skies above them began to darken. A coastal storm was encroaching, and the clouds were black save for the bright sunlight that battled steadily through the cracks.
The trio advanced with hasty caution. Some of the distracted Justicars had turned to face them, raising their weapons. Sera did not dampen her stride, simply raising a palm to the initiates and blowing their armor clean open, casting their dusty essence into the breeze.
A faint voice rumbled in their heads, welcoming them.
"Ah- the prince himself. You know of nothing here beyond retribution."
The darkness receded over the governor's residence a hundred meters beyond them. Just before the grand entrance to the structure, a resplendent figure many heads taller than a man stood. Like all Justicars, he was clad in gold with a powerful animal decorating his helm. This one was a bear, showing its teeth in a vicious roar. His armor showed a figure that was tall and stocky, thick but agile. Still a great distance away, the three could see his great size.
He detached from a series of bulky machines, each with many leathery tendrils spearing into the dirt. Around them, they could see these vine-like objects poking in and out of the ground, emitting faint smoke from dying embers. He seized a mighty weapon in both hands, raising it to reveal an ostentatious mace, with a spiked and bladed head that looked like it would be used to demolish buildings.
"I suppose you intend to take my head like some knight of old?"
-
STREET
The building was clear as they mopped up the Justicar garrison or the rest fled from the beasts and soldiers alike. They had a moment of respite within the building, and Jace joined his Carnaithian friend in self-aid. The pain started to set in now that he could sit down and heave breaths, and every bump, burn and gash on his body began to shout at him in the brief peace.
He was surprised they'd made it past the breach. He was not surprised that so many had drawn their ticket over this one street- the corpses of his entire platoon were decorating the road and the abyss below.
"You alright, big guy? You can take a second or two," Jace offered through a wince.
Outside, the shambling figures were massing- clamoring out of the pits in a steadily growing number. For the moment they were moving slow, and without purpose for the most part; this was aside from a handful who were already tracking the platoon as they entered the structure. The thralls that pursued them groggily grasped at windowsills which burned under their grip.
All of the shambling thralls were heading northing- some aimlessly towards the governor's residence and others trying to hazily gain entry into their structure.
"You look a lot worse for wear than I do," Yaalth responded to the marine's question - distinctly deflecting concern for himself. He looked the man up and down before retrieving a case of aid from the small of his back, the composite box filled with advanced medicines and a common applicator. "I'm not too banged up in here, and the armor can handle itself. If you have any holes in your kit, help yourself. His form inside of the building was in something of a kneeling stance, considering the armor. He leaned, peering out of the windows via an obscure window.
"Unfortunately, I don't think we'll be getting much of a break... take a look once you're able." The assailants were slow - the pair would have time to get treatments applied, but the crushing volume of the enemy meant they'd have their work cut out for them. The knight frowned under his faceplate; these were just about the perfect counter for the surprising assault from the Jade Empire's dinosauroid auxiliaries.
Tosho repressed a gasp as the Initiates literally came apart at there flick of a wrist from Sera - he had understood that the new Empress Consort was a powerful witch of sorts, but he hadn't quite grasped just how strong the unseen energies that danced around the Jade Court truly were.
Mitsuyoshi paid it no heed, instead focused on the hulking Judge ahead of them. His voice echoed, booming both in reality and in their minds, and Mitsuyoshi scowled at the intrusion, letting the irritation whet the fine edge of his cold fury.
"What I do with your corpse is no concern of yours," replied the prince levelly, his voice taut, as he drew his sword. It flickered to life, red light spilling from the glittering blade, and he settled comfortably into a jodan no kamae stance, the blade held high over his head.
Beside him, somewhat less comfortable in his position, Tosho extended his AA-42 to melee length, a six foot haft tipped by an orange speartip that glowed much like the prince's sword. In this duel of titans he was not entirely sure of himself, but he had never let Mitsuyoshi down before...
OUTSIDE
Vauban and his marines piled dust and ashes at the doors and windows as they held off the shambling assault, but a cry from upstairs alerted him to the abominations that were heading towards the prince and his companions.
He snapped an order and one of his designated marksmen, a corporal with a Kazedama Rifle, crossed to the north corner and began potting the figures as they crossed her field of view, their shambling backs providing ample targets
COURTYARD
"I'm afraid that anger and trinkets won't be enough," Bomani spoke, now from the emitters in his heavy helm. He took his first steps forward to meet the prince, gargantuan mace dragging along and tearing up the ground in his wake. "Those Jaros fools felt the same- they are now mindless mass being thrown futilely into your spearwalls."
Sera grimaced, a rare glimpse of her discreet pointed Minevan teeth- her fears were true. Her hands tightened, trying to find an invisible purchase just as she had to the Initiates; an unseen buffer was dampening her influence, unable to land a firm psionic grasp on her target as if her arms were asleep. Was she spent? No... this was different.
On Agnios, Mantiya had skewered the Adjudicator and she'd torn the plating off of it like bark from a tree. The Judge before her may as well have been an wall of ice.
"Your armies will win," Bomani continued, "But you'll be a smoldering husk at spearpoint by sunset."
With ease, he lifted the mace and swung with the force of a train; the momentum spun and tossed Bomani forward with great speed, intending to swing straight through the trio and continue to spin.
-
STREET
"Me?" Jace said, exasperation obvious, "No, I'm doing great." He'd convinced himself not fifteen minutes prior on the far side of the bridge that he was a dead man. Coincidentally, all of his fellow troops were dead themselves. Yaalth had done them all a great service today, but he was still incredulous that the tank of a man could take much more punishment.
The shout from upstairs, followed by the fire command and the song of disciplined rifles cracking brought him back to business. He kept his pistol in a white-knuckle grip, helping the Jade marines roughly smash furniture and objects into every possible entryway.
In the street, the thralls fell easily to the fire; each shot rending limbs and leaving another one immobile. Some persisted after their lower extremities were severed, continuing in a desperate crawl. On the ground level of the building, doors could be seen shaking dust as they were pounded on.
COURTYARD
Mitsuyoshi slipped inside the swing with practiced ease, his sword tip pivoting down over and behind his left shoulder to slash a Hidari Joho Giri cut at Bomani's towering leg. The flaring red blade flickered in the darkness as it arced towards the golden armour, casting reflections on the polished surface, and there was a hiss and a crack as the weapon ploughed into the metal and buried itself deep.
There was a tangle of confusion, but as the dust cleared and Bomani staggered around, Tosho let out a yell of despair. The sword was still buried in Bomani's shinplate, but Mitsuyoshi was lying on the ground, his left arm gone at the elbow.
"No!" yelled the sergeant, hefting his gunspear and magdumping at Bomani's thick helm, 10mm rounds clanging against the thick armour and bursting in flashes of orange.
STREET
"Call those damn raptors back!" yelled Vauban, and one of his marines took control of the subnet that was guiding the raptors, painting upstairs to them and watching as the survivors obediently trotted upstairs, flowing thtrough the wreckage where they lolled around patiently, licking their lips and snuffing around for food or water.
Inside, his marines kept up the defense, using bayonets and sidearms to conserve ammunition as they ground away at the shambling hordes. He turned to Vaalth and Jace, taking in the Carnaithian knight's heavy armour and shield.
"You can be our fallback," he said brusquely, uncertain of the knight's relative rank and so choosing directness. "There's only one flight of stairs - if you two get ready to hold it, my men can fall back to you if the ground floor gets overwhelmed. Gives you time to patch up," he added, the closest he would get to offering praise of the knight's defeat of the Justicar Desolators
STREET
Yaalth, who had brandished his triple-linked railguns in preparation to begin firing, halted with Vauban's interruption. He looked at the scene; its rapid fire would tear through the walls recklessly, and was certainly less efficient than the bulk of guns already in the fray in the hands of the Jade marines. He hummed to himself, looking down at his belt; a set of more or less standard grenades lay there, left unused by virtue of the melee that left no space for opportunity. Even now, his shield continued to absorb blackstone from the rest of his carapace.
"Very well. But take these," he uttered, the belt of a half-dozen explosives removed from his armor and handed to the man before him. "Should help clear out the crowd. High explosive concussion and defensive fragmentation... I think throwing them out separately will maximize your mileage." He about-faced as promptly as the belt would be grabbed, moving to help establish the microcosm of defense-in-depth.
COURTYARD
Bomani stumbled forward, keeping a hand on his mace as it cratered the ground it struck. The giant lurched forward, one massive hand grasping at the blade that was scorching his leg from the inside. He'd barely ripped the mysterious blade free before his next eager opponent was upon him, the stocky sergeant rattling his head with an endless stream of well-placed rifle fire.
Bursts of orange danced off of the ornate material- barely giving the Judge any time to realize that this lowly Jade marine intended to run him through. The daring prince may have had the power to grapple with him; unfortunately, Tosho would only have the mettle.
Across the courtyard, Sera was dragging Mitsuyoshi away from afar as invisible hands pulls him across dirt and stone, leaving a beaded trail of scarlet from his bleeding stump.
Frustrated by the distraction and seeing that the gunspear was melting past the ablative outer layer of his armor, the Judge sprung into action- first the sergeant, then the girl, and then he'd crush his true opponent. On one knee and with a fearsome roar, he swung his greatmace with its full reach from the pommel.
The weapon was nearly twice his height, making his threatened range far, but not far enough. Tosho remained firmly out of grasp.
Over the sound of metal cutting through air was a click, followed by a heavy series of mechanisms. The jagged head of the mace went flying from the pole in the blink of an eye, attached by reinforced cables. With a simple maneuver, the weapon was careening into Tosho before he could squeeze the trigger.
STREET
It was only a minute or so later that Yaalth would be called into action. There was a loud bang from one side of the building, followed by curses and screams. Dust billowed up the stairwell, and then the first marine came staggering up, helped by a comrade. In a chaotic tumble, with the last couple of marines firing backwards as they came, the ragged remains of the platoon clattered past Yaalth and to safety, coated in debris and blood.
Vauban caught his breath next to the giant and opened his mouth to explain what had happened, but the first of their shambling enemy appeared at the foot of the stairs and he instead simply ducked, hoping his ear protectors still worked. He didn't want to be too close to Yaalth's railguns when they went off...
COURTYARD
Tosho was caught unaware, believing he had avoided the lethal mace's swing, and wordlessly he was thrown backwards as if hit by a freight train. He disappeared out of sight, his corpse falling into the debris with an eerie quiet.
Mitsu did not realised what had happened at first, too distracted by the pain, but then the reality struck him even as the strange sensation of being pulled across the stones clouded his mind. He tried to shake off Sera's hands, not realised she was pulling him psionically, and then staggered to his feet. His first instinct was to rush the judge in a blaze of fury and anger, but the pain in his arm checked him. He stopped. Taking a breath, he focused on the pain, wreathing his injured limb in a flickering pink light. He was no doctor, but when the light faded his stump was protected by a crystalline sheath over some kind of padding.
He locked eyes with the Judge's snarling helmet. Saying nothing, he focused again and a glowing orange sword traced itself in the air in front of him, expanding from nothing. He gripped it with his good hand and resumed his stance...
The roar of the guns came quick - loud enough to not matter as far as specifics. No later than had the sergeant ducked his head, the trio of kinetic guns had flash-charged with energy and dumped flechettes at two dozen rounds every second. This wasn't to say he was wasteful - far from it, firing dense bursts into the first target and inching his way to the side, offering longer and longer sightlines at the approaching enemy as he cut each down, pushing their number back as silhouette after silhouette backlit themselves in the dusty haze from the presumed explosion.
"Did you detonate them all?" he managed to ask between bursts, though he didn't wait for an answer before resuming fire. At his side, his other arm brandished a blade... though he was hesitant to rely on it for obvious reasons.
COURTYARD
The Justicar's mace continued its course well after fatally swatting the man, ringing loudly as steel hit stone. Despite the smoke rising from the wound to his leg, the towering Bomani stood firm while the head of the weapon reeled back to its haft. He grunted in satisfaction, having begun to even out his three-to-one disadvantage. His armor twinkled under the amber light of Mitsuyoshi's weapon as they stood off.
The earth rumbled, and cobblestone began to sunder. Aside from the steady thump of shot and shell from the battlefield, the caverns beneath them continued to displace. Far below was the key to bringing the Grand Adjudicator to heel- if he could not delay Mitsuyoshi and his task force as his underlings finalized their work, the construct in the distant system of Agnios would be unshackled without recourse.
"This is my penance," Bomani said. He planted his feet, standing low and wide. With two hands, he raised his weapon overhead, ready to bring it down with the force of a hurricane. He was still as an oak, prepared to wager everything on one blow.
Sera gasped, short for breath after dragging her lover through the dirt. Blooded eyes darted to and fro- from the pair of fighters in their rigid stances, then fruitlessly searching for a feeling of Tosho's life. Her sharp teeth gritted as the ground cracked, forcing her initiative.
With a sharp squat, she began sliding over the hard ground with both of her feet flat. She darted swiftly past Mitsuyoshi, intending to shoot past Bomani and give him space to attack. Another quick gesture, and the Judge ever-so-slightly buckled under the new weight of his mace holding him down. It wouldn't be enough to delay him for long- and she was dangerously close.
STREET
Jace was one of the troops caught on the ground floor as the shamblers poured in, helping hurt and disoriented Jade Marines in the correct direction as he coughed on smoke. He tripped over the golden corpse of an initiate, cursing loudly before shoving the armored husk down the stairwell. Through the haze, he could see the mindless forms following up.
The street was unrecognizable from the assault prior- the remains of the bridge were entirely gone and fresh chasms had gaped wide. Instead of steady whisps of smoke, violent blazes began to spew into the air. These blazes were beginning to put structures to the torch- theirs included. Unhelmeted, Jace could feel the heat rise like an oven.
"We can't stay!" He said between coughing fits, looking for Vauban.
COURTYARD
Mitsuyoshi suddenly moved, stamping forwards with a one-handed lunge. He was meters away from the Judge, however, and his thrust looked like it would waste itself on thin air. The glowing blade left his hand and arrowed forwards, forming into a billowing plume of orange light that crashed towards Bomani's guts.
Behind the blast, the crystalline matter on Mitsuyoshi's arm began to grow. Rapidly encasing his entire body, he seemed to double in size as his frail and injured body was enveloped by a huge, glittering magenta silhouette. Emerging from the aftermath of the orange lance, a snarling dragon of glass came roaring at the Judge, dazzling claws and glinting teeth seeking to tear the life out of the would-be conqueror.
Above them, a burst of thunder pealed through the cacophony of war, lightning snaking down to touch the ground in a dozen places as rain began to sheet the courtyard, a curtain of fragile diamonds falling to form reflective pools on the ruined ground below.
STREET
Vauban breathed a sigh of relief as the brrrt of the Carnaithian heavy weapons cleared the stairwell - the ultimate fallback position. There was a deafening silence in the moments of reprieve they had before the next wave arrived, and in that moment he noticed the alert beeping on his HUD. A general evacuation was being ordered, and not too soon. Crossing to a window, squinting past the smoke and chaos, he saw shapes moving through the sky beyond, shuttles and dropships already leaving. He signalled readiness for his own unit to withdraw, casting about for a clear area and finding a stretch of street that was not yet engulfed.
"Need a ride?" he asked the Carnathian and Minevan, nodding to the courtyard, before painting it for his own troops to clear.
Flechette and slug cut through what little of the wall still stood, breaking wood and wall much as it destroyed the bodies of the shamblers, each projectile carving its own wisping currents through the smoke and dust. Much to Yaalth's relief, the ashes of the horde fell to the ground rather than further clot the air - Every surface covered in gray and black from the combat insofar. He watched as the conflagration approached, interrupted in thought by Vauban's question. The knight brought his armament back to an idle position, and looked to the Ingenious.
"It would be for the best," He responded in earnest, but the pause was short - "but what of your prince?"
COURTYARD
The bolt of lightning cast a blinding reflection from the Judge's armor. With Mitsuyoshi's dragon opening its maw wide to tear him free of his armor, Bomani lept forward to bring his mace down with both hands. With this strike he wagered everything- he would trade mortal wounds if he could turn the man beneath him to a pulp, alongside his late friend.
And so the stage was set: Bomani swung his mighty weapon down with his last decisive move. The dragon, decorated in dazzling orange light, sunk its incorporeal fangs and talons into his armor with ease. Smoke reported from his wounds. However, the macehead continued to plummet to shatter the gemstone prince.
Offset a safe distance from the clash, Sera could not find the time to sort through her many tricks and tools. Watching the forces crashing into one another, the Minevan woman produced a knife. In a flourish even more timely than the shooting on Marchand, she plunged the knife into the flesh of her shoulder before tearing through meat and cloth down to the elbow.
Her wounded arm held two digits up towards Mitsuyoshi.
The mace impacted first, smashing into the crystal covering the shoulder of his severed arm. The crystal cracked deeply, looking like glass preparing to shatter. In the distance, Serashee was thrown straight to the ground with bone-shattering velocity and a shriek of agony.
The mace fell out of Bomani's hands, its momentum carrying it to glance off of Mitsuyoshi's figure and rumble the ground. Bomani himself had been cast aside by the dragon, tumbling like a ragdoll across the stone before his immense weight came to rest. His armor was charred and mangled. Its many wounds were offering smoke as proof of their efforts. For a few moments, he lie still- before a single, feeble twitch. He could not summon strength, but the Judge was not dead, yet.
STREET
"These shamblers are still up- the Justicar commander is still up," Jace called to Yaalth. If the Justicar Judge was killed, then his brood would be killed. They were holding ground to prevent the thralls from interfering with the prince in his culminating moment, but it seemed there would be no ground they could hold, and soon.
The damage their combined force was causing was adequate- their issue now was a tenable position and the question of supply. Jace watched the numerous marines get to work securing the courtyard, gladly accepting Vauban's invitation by leaping from a window after them.
"Yaalth is right," Jace said as they moved as tactically as they could, "We need to help them finish this before we vapor."
COURTYARD
The crystalline dragon bellowed in triumph and agony as the two collided, throwing Bomani to the ground. The vast serpentine head swayed as it took in its surroundings, its gaze flickering over Sera and Tosho before settling on Bomani's prostrate form.
Limping, the glass form came to a stop before the Judge. It reared its head back, rain still pattering and tinkling from its hide and forming reflective pools around its glittering claws. A light began to grow inside the dragon, rapidly swelling from a glimmer to a blaze that hurt the eye, a beacon that lit the night sky. With a furious roar, Mitsuyoshi breathed a stream of flame and plasma that washed over the Judge, evaporating the rainwater around him and cracking the ground beneath him with its fury...
STREET
Vaughn cursed. He knew the Minevan was right. He delayed his response a moment as he watched a sverkhu gunship swoop down, its rear ramp dropping open as it hovered to allow the survivors to board.
"Wounded and dead aboard first. After that I want volunteers front and center. We're going after the Prince." he said.
A crewman from the gunship heard the command and disappeared up the ramp for a moment, before tossing down a crate of 10mm ammunition. Vaughn nodded his thanks and stuffed a couple of magazines into his webbing, flinching slightly as the nose gun of the shuttle shredded a cluster of shamblers that had emerged from a crack ahead of them.
"Can you get a VTOL to the courtyard?" he called over the radio.
"Can't promise anything," replied the pilot "but we'll try."
That'll have to do," thought Vaughn, turning to the one uninjured marine who had returned from the gunship. Everyone else was done, either killed or injured or just out of the fight. The four of them, three marines and a knight, were all that was left. He turned towards the courtyard.
"Right then." he said, and without further ceremony began jogging towards the bright blaze of light ahead…
The Carnaithian's attention was robbed by the sound of impacts and a roar not more than a few buildings away, quickly looking the VTOL up and down as Vaughn corroborated with the aviation crews. As the other three began their approach, he fell in quickly behind them.
Looking at the fire the short distance away, he couldn't help but wonder whether the situation was with or against them.
COURTYARD
In the flash of a blade, the Justicar commander was no more than an empty casket of smoking gold.
The rain did not relent, runoff flowing between cobblestone cracks and turning soil to mud. The coastal storm signaled its entry with greying skies and a single spear of lightning above. In short order, the sounds of war softened in favor of the rain, washing Stakesby clean of blood.
All throughout the city, the shamblers collapsed into ash, before the flow of the water rinsed their particulate remains back to the caverns below.
TASK FORCE STAKESBY - FORWARD HEADQUARTERS
"Just a few pockets in the north, sir," Jaskar said between labored breaths. The Minevan Section at the console wiped the sweat and soot off of his brow, having just been relieved from the intense fighting mere minutes ago. Centered inside of the impromptu bunker- a hastily occupied Juice-n-Naps conference room crammed with the joint task force's sensory equipment- was a short table adorned with knobs, buttons, and switches at either head. Just above its surface, a live-image render of what was left of the city: a projection of translucent red light forming the structures and relief. "The rest have surrendered-"
"Forget prisoners. No quarter. Smoke out the rest," Cevant Krandis grumbled, brow furrowed and eyes darting about the board.
There was no protest among the joint command, at least not initially nor before the next emergency.
"Subterrain sensors report reduction of biomass," Jaskar said.
"Good. The Judge is dead-"
"No-" Krandis flipped a switch, the model of Stakesby rising and showing what lie beneath; a labyrinth of caverns expanding and fragmenting by the second. On the surface, yellow swathed over large pockets of the surface with a warning clear as day:
—-COLLAPSE IMMINENT—-
COURTYARD
A small quake woke her, Serashee's bloodshot eyes wide open. The rain soaked through her garb, stinging at the self-inflicted gash in her shoulder. She drew breath- coughing in reaction to her cracked ribs before groaning in agony. She looked to the sky, pushing her drenched clump of silver hair back.
The sounds of war had faded- there were no screams, just the thunder and rain.
"My prince..."
She looked about, able to see Mitsuyoshi's crystalline form in a blink of lightning. Sera rolled onto her stomach, dragging herself towards him.
"My starlight-" She weakly called out, failing to quell a grunt of pain.
STREET
There was no time for celebrations in their lull as the message to all hands was delivered- seismic activity was multiplying by the moment. Collapses were imminent. Above the roofline, the knight and marines could see dropships dusting off in the distance and rushing east.
Jace was second into the Jade VTOL, who had made an equally delicate and impressive nighttime landing in the courtyard. They waited for who remained before the craft aggressively took off, the powerful wash of the engines casting debris aside.
As Lieutenant Okayama squinted through the smoke and rain, he spotted Sera first, the movement drawing his eye as the injured Minevan dragged herself across the courtyard. He glanced at the thermal overlay and sure enough, the Prince was there too, prone amidst rubble next to the rapidly cooling remains of a giant figure.
Bringing the shuttle to a neat stop two dozen yards away, he watched as marines poured out of the troop compartment, rushing to the others. They secured the Prince first, though friendly hands soon grasped Sera too, uttering reassuring words she barely heard. The two were rushed back to the shuttle, one marine stooping to grab Tosho's soul-vault before sprinting back and hopping onto the ramp seconds before the ship lifted off.
Mitsuyoshi was fading in and out of conciousness, but for a moment his eyes opened as a medic tugged at his maimed arm. His gaze settled on Sera.
"Darling," was all he managed before he blacked out again. The medic glanced over at her officer. "He'll be alright. It's just shock." she reassured the nervous captain, her words for everyone in the troop bay as much as him. Nobody wanted to witness the death of the Prince and soon-to-be-Emperor. Another marine, no medic but still competent enough to bind a wound, worked on Sera's shoulder, his visor still lowered, but he began asking her questions, meaningless but intended to distract her.
—
Beyond them, visible through the viewports, the ruins of Stakesby were finally visible as the Justicar darkness fields lifted. It was a nightmare. The skeletal structures of a few surviving buildings grasped skywards from the wreckage of an entire city, the only testament to the thousands of lives that had been obliterated in a single evening of horror and blood.
Moving like raindrops glistening in the sun, the victorious Jade forces were withdrawing, falling back to regroup with their Pordish and Carnaithian allies. They had plunged into the city like a knife and excised the rot, but at great cost. Stakesby would not rise again - just from looking at it, the lieutenant could tell that reconstruction efforts would focus somewhere else on the planet, leaving the valley here a dark scar plagued by ghosts.
The Prince was wounded, many Jade lives had been lost, but the message delivered had been clear. The Justicars had awoken a dragon and vengeance had been swift and brutal.