Chapter Text
‘Shas’Nvre Bortuya you’ll lead the first team and take the left flank. Shas’Nvre Mont’kir you’ll take the second team and the right flank. Shas’Nvre Serek’dala will lead the third team and take the centre. I’ll be in the centre with the command team; but I will move to either flank as the situation requires. Now as to chain of command, Nvre Serek’dala will be our Terigun and my second-in-command. After her, the command falls to you Nvre Bortuya, and then to you Nvre Mont’kir. ’ said Shas’nel Kilaa’qazdan pausing to look up at his new Fireknives.
The four firewarriors stood wedged in between bunks filled with the wounded; and stared down at the Fireblade’s hand held holo-projector. The projector’s orange light turning their blue faces a dull brown colour.
‘Everyone clear on their responsibilities?’
‘Ai,’ they replied in unison.
‘Let me take a moment then to speak on our situation. I know that when we were evacuated, it was our time to be rotated off the front lines and to a rear rest area. But, this is looking more and more like it might be a major operation; rather than just a diversionary action to relieve an encircled contingent. I’m certain of this because we’ve now been given the designation of Provisional Cadre 3-22.’
There was a shuffling sound as the three shas’nvre shifted their weight from one hoof to the other. They looked at each other and then at the shas’nel.
Sala’derek was the first to speak and with noticeable fatigue in her voice said, ‘Our firewarriors have been in combat for more than a kai’rotaa and a half, 127 rotaa in total. They’re exhausted and tired. Some are injured, not enough to be in hospital; but enough that they shouldn’t be on the front line.’
Gaxai looking tired and weak then added, ‘And we’re not a cadre Shas’nel. We’re from three different sept worlds, and from at least two different contingents, and perhaps five or more separate cadres. Even those from Lub’grahl aren’t all from the same contingent or cadre. And neither Bortuya, nor I have ever been under your command Shas’nel.’
‘And you Shas’nvre?’ asked the Kilaa’qazdan looking at Ysbril.
‘There’s no time for our firewarriors to learn each other’s names; let alone learn the chain of command, or how to work together as a team. Then add to this their fatigue, combat stress, and their diverse make-up; all of which means our teams will have no real unit cohesiveness. Nor will our squads be able to coordinate effectively. Sir, it’s a disaster in the making,’ answered Ysbril with some quite obvious strain in her voice.
Kilaa’qazdan looked at each shas’nvre in turn and then said, ‘Agreed. I’ve explained our situation to Fire Caste Command Mon’an IV; their reply was that we have our orders.’
He put away the holo-projector; and with fatigue showing in his voice said, ‘We need to be prepared for extended action. So take whatever rations, ammunition, and power packs there are onboard; and distribute them between your team members. As of right now, we only have seven DX-36 gun drones available, which I’ll divide among the three teams. Also, reset all your frequencies to the new ones I’m sending you right now. They’ll need to be synced immediately if we’re going to be ready for imminent action. One last thing, at 13:25:30 decs I’ll give the mission briefing, and then lead the cadre in The Wild Cry. After that, it’ll be just counting down the raik’ors till the blue disembarkation light comes on. Now, Fireknives to your teams.’
‘Ai sir,’ replied all three and then dispersed.
Ysbril however, grabbed Gaxai by the arm and pulled him to one side. She put her arms around him and hugged him tightly. Then, letting go, she said, ‘Gaxai my tev’la. If fate allows us both to survive, this action. Then let us be bound in ta’lissera as brother-husband and sister-wife!’
‘What?’ said Gaxai.
‘Please, please hear me out! We’ve both lost spouses, a sister-wife for you, and two brother-husbands for me. And since joining the Red Dragon cadre, we’ve both lost countless lovers. Gaxai, you and I, we have a history together; and besides that, we’re both old now. So, why not be bound together for the little time we may have left? I ask this of you, Gaxai with a clear mind, and from the deepest place in my heart. Please allow yourself to be bound to me in ta’lissera?!’
Gaxai’s eyes filled with tears, and he took her face in his hands, ‘Of course, I’ll be bound to you Ysbril! Don’t I always do what you ask me too? I always take my clothes off when you ask me, don’t I?’
‘Ai, you do,’ she said blushing but then kissed him.
Gaxai took her up in his arms and kissed her back, and the two kissed until the cargo hold lights came up to full intensity. Two arms then suddenly embraced the kissing couple; and they heard Kilaa’qazdan say, ‘Congratulations on your betrothal, Fireknives. And fate allowing, I want to be there to drink a bowl of ky’hyusa to your bonding; but now, get to your teams!’
Embarrassed, the two shas’nvres pulled apart to cheers and clacking hooves from the wounded firewarriors lying in their bunks. However, the firewarriors rousing in the cargo hold hadn’t noticed at all; and so Gaxai and Ysbril now made their way to their respective teams.
The rows of seats along each side of the dropship were folded up, and the ceiling handrailings released to assist the exhausted firewarriors as they readied themselves. There was a continuous stream of weary firewarriors flowing counter-clockwise around the dropship cabin, each staggering on their way to their newly assigned squads. Most having only just learned of their assignments. Fragmentation grenades were issued, especially to those carrying pulse carbines; and mont’nans were given a hasty sharpening. Warpaint was applied, or reapplied as the case maybe; with Lub’grahl green being the most prominent, but Salash’hei blue and Viro’los red were also present. All manner of Ork teeth, tusks, and bones now appeared on the armour of the firewarriors. When everyone had managed to find their assigned squads, and all equipment checks were completed, the team leaders then moved to the front of the AX-44.
At the centre of the platform stood Shas’Nel’Kilaa’qazdan, glorious in his dark green assault armour. The cadre fireblade was an imposing figure, still strong and youthful for a firewarrior of his age. Ruby eyes shone from beneath a green bandanna that bore the sigil of the Blue Valley cadre. While his face was clad in a beard of black and silver hair. On one side was slung a pulse rifle with a markerlight; while on the other was slung his hand-a-half ta’lissera mont’nan. Ork teeth hung from both weapons, while affixed to his helmet was the large jaw of an Ork Warboss, complete with gleaming tusks.
‘Shas’Nvre’Serek’dala call the cadre to attention,’ said the shas’nel.
‘Cadre…An-xaar, Attention!’ shouted the Terigun Sala’derek.
The dropship reverberated with the shouts of “Ai!” from the assembled firewarriors.
‘Am-ra! – At ease! Shas’fann as of this moment we are now officially the Provisional Cadre 3-22; and I don’t have to explain the significance of that new designation.’
The Fireblade now had the complete attention of every weary and exhausted firewarrior in the dropship; and even in their fatigued and worn condition, they understood his meaning.
‘Most of us are from Lub’grahl, but even then we’re not all from the same contingent, let alone the same cadre. That means for a lot of you, this will be the first time you’re serving with the brother or sister that now stands beside you. Or it’s the first time commanding that brother or sister. Needless to say, it’s important for you to know your chain of command; and to be aware of your ranking within it. Who knows, if enough of us are killed, maybe one of you will end up commanding this cadre? At this time, I want you all to take a look at the holo-projection behind me….’
Gaxai turned to see Ysbril, that is Shas’Nvre Bortuya was now standing beside him. She wore fresh warpaint on her face, a series of green chevrons and lines that represented the mountains of Lub’grahl. Around her neck, she wore a necklace of large Ork teeth; while two tusks adorned her arm shield. She turned and looked at Shas’Nvre Mont’kir and smiled. And Gaxai in turn smiled back at her, the entire upper half of his face covered in green warpaint. A string of large teeth hung from his pulse rifle; while from his belt there was hung several Ork scalps and tusks. A small Ork tooth dangled from the end of his comlink antenna. Ysbril now reached out and gently tapped his chest.
‘…When we reach the landing zone, the cadre will disembark and advance straight towards the ridge line. Engaging and eliminating any opposition along the way. Once we’re at the ridge line, we will then dig in. Our mission is to keep pressure on the Kike Aiki’yeb forces in the valley as long as we possibly can. Keeping it up until the relief cadres can punch through to the entrapped contingents. There were more than one – five in total to be exact.
‘Be aware that when the plan was announced, the ridge line was unoccupied by the enemy; however, that is no longer the case…’
Gaxai pulled Ysbril next to him and the two clasped hands.
‘…But at this moment, our kor’vatta air arm is pounding the ridge line with continuous air strikes and strafing runs. But even if the Greens aren’t cleared off when we arrive, we will still land and advance to the ridge line. At this time, I’ll allow you to take a moment to say your farewells, and then I’ll finish our preparations with the Wild Cry.’
The entire cabin then erupted with the quiet shuffling of hooves and muffled goodbyes. The shas’nel said his goodbyes to those wounded in the bunks, to the kor’ui crew chief, and then to his three shas’myrs. The three squad leaders, Sala’derek, Mont’kir, and Bortuya, then said their farewells to their squads. Gaxai and Ysbril then gave each other a final goodbye embrace.
‘May we meet again on the other side, my tev’la,’ said Gaxai.
‘On the other side, my tev’la,’ replied Ysbril.
۞۞
Kilaa’qazdan stood facing the throng of firewarriors and shouted in a strong and clear voice, ‘O hear me shas’fann, it is now time for our descent into the darkness. Hear me as I sing the Song of War, for we shall walk this path together!’
The entire cargo hold was silent as all eyes were turned towards the shas’nel.
‘If you are from Lub’grahl you call this theWild Cry, but if you’re from Salash’hei you call it the Release, if you are from Tinek'la the Descent, and if you’re from Vior’los you call it the Hunt. But in every case, it is the same thing, that moment when we let ourselves touch the darkness within. The infamous Tinek'la commander Shas’O’Xux’kinot said it best, “What the Ethereals fear, we embrace.” And no truer words have ever been spoken.’
‘What the Ethereals fear, we embrace!’ shouted the firewarriors in unison.
‘Yes, indeed, shas’fann!’ said the shas’nel with a dark fire in his ruby eyes. ‘I will now recite the words to the Wild Cry with the help of my two Lub’grahl shas’myr, but without the large body movements. As we do not have the space for that.’
As a wounded firewarrior began to beat a wide flat drum, and with Ysbril and Gaxai standing beside him, Kilaa’qazdan began to sing:
‘If xitomata come, we’ll fight to the end…’
‘If yolwas come, we’ll fight and battle…’
‘If tzifil come, we’ll fight in rage…’
‘If tau’fann come, we’ll fight and obliterate!’
Some of the firewarriors began a continuous multi-note overtone chanting; while others began a rhythmic chant in time with the music: ‘Xu, xu, xu, xu…’
With every word the shas’nel chanted, the energy in the cargo hold began to change. At first, it was a quiet energy, like a great river flowing beneath a starlit night. Powerful in its potential, but moving easily and silently. But then the chant grew in intensity, like a rising ocean tide. Until at last, it was a storm, unbound and relentless. The chanting and the drumming increased in volume with the firewarriors now joining in the chorus of,‘Xu, xu, xu, xu….’
The voices of the firewarriors became stronger and deeper, filling the cargo hold the volume like that of a thousand voices. The bodies of the firewarriors began to change, their fatigue and exhaustion melting away with every verse, and with every drum beat. With total concentration, they fixed their gaze upon the shas’nel. Their faces lost their individuality, becoming more alike until at last they were like living masks. The eyes of the firewarriors lost their colour; to become an entirely a dark transparent blue. Their eyes were now like those of the doean’kinot, or the steppe wolf of ancient T’au. For their essences were changing by contact with the ancestors, by their contact with the darkness within. Their minds and bodies transforming, as they allowed the energy of their ancestors began to flow through them. They were all becoming the yaksha mont’au, the mont’au daemon.
Kilaa’qazdan raised his hand and when he dropped it, the drum beats stopped. And for a moment there was silence. Then he raised both hands at the same time, and simultaneously, he and every firewarrior gave out a terrible cry. The noise drowned out the vibrations of the engines; and the kor’ui pilot almost lost control of the AX-44 dropship, as it juddered from the energy coursing through its hull.
The shas’nel now held aloft his sheathed ta’lissera mont’nan with both hands, shouting, ‘Tō Tan’seri’nan! Tō Tau'Va! Tō O’Shovah! – For the Dawn Blade! For the Greater Good! For O’Shovah!’
‘For the Dawn Blade! For the Greater Good! For O’Shovah!’ shouted back the cadre in unison.
Then Kilaa’qazdan drew his blade, and for a brief instant, it flashed with an intense blue-white light. The blade appeared to be made of pure crystal in that solitary moment. But the next moment it was adamantine again, and he returned the blade to its scabbard.
‘All personnel, the orange ready light is now lit. All personnel, the orange ready light is now lit. ETA in ten raik’ors,’ came the voice of the kau’ui pilot over the intercom.
‘Cadre Fireknives, follow me to the cargo door!’ shouted Kilaa’qazdan pulling on his helmet.
‘Ai!’ they shouted, pulling on their helmets, and followed their shas’nel.
Kilaa’qazdan made his way in between the rows of firewarriors to the rear of the dropship. There, the Fireblade and his Fireknives stood pressed up against the door, holding on tightly to the overhead handrails. All eyes were now watching the orange-ready lights above the door. The dropship bucked and jinxed as it tried to avoid the incoming Ork rokkets.
‘Green fighter aircraft are trying to intercept us,’ said the shas’nel listening to a transmission over his comlink.
There was a rapid series of hammering sounds that carried along the ceiling from the stern to the bow. The interior lights flashed and then went out. And then the dropship juddered like it never had done before; and the floor suddenly dropped away, leaving everyone dangling by the handrailing.
‘Evasive manoeuvres,’ said Gaxai, holding onto the handrails with both hands.
‘Ai,’ replied the shas’nel. The purple ready light lit up and the shas’nel shouted, ‘Two raik’ors till ETA! Ready yourselves!’
Then the floor came up a hard, either that or the firewarriors came down hard. Whatever the case, they hit the floor, with considerable force and a few were injured. The lights flicked on but managed to stay on; and then the dropship did a spin on its vertical axis, which tossed everyone over to the right.
A cacophony of sounds now erupted all around them. The first ones sounded like rocks or pebbles were being thrown at the hull; and were accompanied by a number of dull thud-like sounds.
‘All personnel, the dropship is taking fire. ETA in one raik’or. Repeat, ETA in one raik’or,’ came the news over the intercom.
There was an explosion in the floor next to Ysbril, and she was shoved hard against the cargo door. Screaming and yelling followed. Ysbril turned around to see a large hole in the cargo deck. Around the hole, were the dismembered bodies of two firewarriors, mingled with the mangled bodies of four more injured firewarriors. Looking down, Ysbril could see cyan blood flowing past her hooves. Meanwhile, the engines were roaring loudly, as everyone lurched sternwards, the dropship was touching down.
Knowing it was time, Ysbril drew her mont’nan and pulse pistol; and looking over to Gaxai, she saw that he had done the same. Meanwhile, Serek’dala had already drawn her two pulse pistols. The shas’nel had drawn his ta’lissera mont’nan and was now looking up at the lights above the cargo door.
The blue disembarkation light came on and the rear cargo hatch dropped.
‘For the Dawn Blade! For the Greater Good! For O’Shovah!’ shouted Kilaa’qazdan.
‘As the Mountains Endure!’ shouted Ysbril and Gaxai.
‘Forward Salash’hei!’ shouted Serek’dala.
The air was thick with burning promethium and the red and green tracers of Ork weapon fire. Overhead, there screamed AX-1 fighters and AX-18 fighter bombers; which strafed and bombed the valley right up to the top of the ridge. There being no time for a standard landing, the pilot had brought the dropship down stern first towards the ridge line. But, she kept the AX-44 level so the firewarriors could exit onto the steep incline. Big shoota rounds slammed into the firewarriors as they poured down the cargo ramp. The head of the firewarrior next to Gaxai exploding in a gush of cyan gore. So, dropping down, he led his squad towards the wreck of an armoured gun truck. Spotting the Ork with big shoota firing from a shell crater, Gaxai and his squad rushed its position. The Ork panicked in the middle of reloading, as the Salash’hei firewarriors laid down a barrage of fragmentation grenades. Clods of earth and Ork body parts erupted into the air, as green blood sprayed everywhere.
Kilaa’qazdan swinging his ta’lissera mont’nan, now clambered over a small rise; with Serek’dala and her squad following close behind him. Several big shoota rounds glanced off his armour, as if he were being pelted with clumps of dirt. Serek’dala blew a Nob’s head off as soon as it crested the rise; while the Fireblade waded through two more, his blade skilfully dispatching each of them.
On the far side of the shas’nel, Ysbril’s squad, already at half-strength from the rocket hit, struggled to exit the dropship. But after hitting the ground, they also scrambled up the hill towards the ridge line. Ysbril led her squad right up to the top, and there they made her stand. Beneath them in the valley, hundreds of Orks and their bouncing metal buggies, and ragged bikes were racing up the hillside to meet them. An exploding ion round upturned a trike; which threw the Ork rider virtually on top of Ysbril. As the behemoth staggered to its feet, she drove her mont’myr blade into its exposed armpit. Then decapitated the corpse just as it toppled over. Now shouting encouragements to her squad, Ysbril stood on the ridge top as she and her squad took on all comers. Broken Ork bodies, severed limbs, and wrecked bikes littered the ground around the squad; and while blue and green blood soaked the black volcanic sand beneath their hooves, columns of earth from exploding fusion bombs hung in the air. The dust and dirt mingled with the smoke that rose from the wrecked Ork vehicles.
On the other side of the Fireblade was Gaxai’s squad. Unable to take cover as they advanced under fire, they cut down Orks with blade and weapons fire. Bathed in yellow-green ichor, Gaxai screamed a long stream of expletives and curses at the Ork hordes. He met their fury and rage with fury and rage of his own. Gaxai stove in one Nob’s head with his blade, and then turned to fire point-blank into another. Only to then immediately fire again, and punch huge holes in the chest of yet another Ork. The Salash’hei firewarriors dismembered and decapitated Orks with their carbine fire. As the rest of Gaxai’s squad fought with pulse pistols and blades in the desperate action.
And so it went until nightfall, and then for several rotaa afterwards.
۞۞
Thunk-thunk-thunk.
Gaxai beat the Ork's head with the pommel of his mont’myr over and over again; until at last the tusk came loose. He pulled the gristly trophy from the massive jaw and tossed it into an upturned Ork helmet filled with more tusks. Then he started on the other big tooth.
Thunk-thunk-thunk.
‘Hoi!’ someone said.
‘What?’ he answered, not stopping to look up.
Thunk-thunk-thunk.
‘Shas’Nvre Mont’kir, it me… Shas’Nvre Bortuya.’
Gaxai looked over his shoulders and squinted at the firewarrior standing at the edge of the shell crater. His head, sans helmet, was covered in dried blood, mud, and filth. ‘I know you… we’re in the same cadre,’ he said, returning to beat the jaw with his war knife.
Thunk-thunk-thunk.
‘Gaxai, it’s me Ysbril,’ she said removing her helmet.
‘Bortuya… Ai, I said I knew you. You command the 3rd platoon…’
Thunk-thunk-thunk.
‘Gaxai… it’s me!’ she pleaded, sitting down next to him at the bottom of the crater.
He stopped, and putting down his mont’myr, began yanking on the large tusk. ‘What do you want shas’nvre?’
‘We need to leave,’ she said, taking his face in her hands. ‘You’re wounded. And your skin is grey from loss of blood.’
‘Well, of course, I have a broken left leg, after all. And I’m missing a foot too,’ he said, pointing with his knife at where his right foot used to be.
Ysbril turned his face to look into his jade green eyes, but couldn’t find the firewarrior she had known all her life. Despite that, she asked, ‘Gaxai do you remember we when were being evacuated? And we were re-routed here to relieve the trapped contingents… And on the way, we were talking about a time long ago at the academy…’
‘You know this Gue’anda here…’ said Gaxai pointing at the corpse of a human next to him. ‘…I think “he” was male, although I don’t know that for sure…’
‘Gaxai…They’re evacuating us now. We have to leave.’
‘Their blood is red, you know? I always thought it was purple… it’s full of iron. Not like our blood that’s copper-based…’
‘Yes, I knew that Gaxai,’ she said, getting up to look over the edge of the crater.
‘What was his name… Rupert?… Roboute?… or was it Umberto? He said was an “Apothecary Medicae” and he and his vesas…’ Gaxai paused to stare at the crater floor.
‘Please my tev’la. We need to get to the dropship,’ said Ysbril getting close enough to him to whisper.
Gaxai twitched a bit and started talking again, ‘…Bandaged my wounds and were taking me by stretcher… when the Greens hit us. Then it was just he and I that were left. He found the “stubber”, that’s what he called it – a stubber. I fed the ammunition, while he fired…’ Gaxai pointed behind him to the heavy Gue’la weapon sitting on the rim of the crater. ‘…We killed a lot of the Kike Aiki’yeb…’
‘Gaxai do you remember a summer rotaa long at the academy?’ she said getting close to the ground, so she could look up into his eyes.
No response.
‘We got up early before dawn… I made us lunches… Do you remember?' she asked, stroking his matted and dirty hair.
Gaxai didn’t answer her.
‘We were going bird watching…’ she said as eur’ii moisture began to run down her cheeks.
Then, as if a light had been switched on, he smiled and said, ‘Of course I remember!’ And reaching up to stroke her face, he said, ‘You were wearing your academy summer smock; and that pink and yellow outdoor hat you used to have. I can distinctly remember thinking, “She looks so cute in that hat!”’
‘My tev’la! Gaxai!’ cried Ysbril and grabbed him in her arms.
Then from far off down the valley they could hear a deep rhythmic drumming or chanting. It was a deep reverberating sound that gradually became stronger and more distinct, until at last they could hear ― ‘WAAAGH!’
Gaxai looked over his shoulder and drawing his pulse pistol said, ‘Ysbril, we’re not going to make the dropship are we?’
‘No Gaxai we’re not,’ answered Ysbril arming her pulse rifle.
‘I can’t move my legs, Ysbril.’
‘That’s alright, I’m right here with you, Gaxai.’
And as the last of the golden-red sunlight disappeared into the clouds; the two firewarriors turned and faced each other in the darkness of the crater.
‘At least we’re together my tev’la,’ said Gaxai touching his forehead to hers.
‘Yes my tev’la, at least we’re together,’ replied Ysbril squeezing his neck as they touched foreheads.
From far off down the valley, there came a roar ― ‘WAAAGH!’