---

"Damnation!" Roland yelled as he watched Emmet's shuttle plummet from the sky and crash down behind enemy lines. This was not a good start to the plan, but then again few plans ever survived contact with the enemy. It was all down to the flow of combat now.

With his eyes scanning the battlefield, the Knight Commander took stock of his surroundings as he analysed the situation, trying to discern some sense from the chaos. Not too far away, he saw the Knight called Jaxon and his protégé, Nym, fighting against the enemy. Jaxon caving in a mage's skull with brute force as was his style and Nym loosing arrow after arrow from her bow with varying results. Definitely some room for improvement there.

Some distance behind were the Spectres, just arriving and yet to disembark. One of them had raised a telekinetic barrier to protect the shuttle, though it was not in any immediate danger on the ground. Of course they would be more concerned about looking after their own, Roland thought disapprovingly. After all, who else would? They had their uses to be sure, but to be around them was simply unwise. Too many horror stories, too many of them real... and Roland had his own to share. Better to point them at the enemy and be done with it.

Turning his attention back to the fighting, Roland was surprised or rather astonished to see that one of the Battlemages had flung himself into the fray, fighting alongside the Knights with a ring of blades flying around him. The Steel Mage Isaac, judging from his fighting style and long black coat. When he too had noticed the downed shuttle after dispatching several enemy soldiers, he took off after it jumping like a flea and it was then that Roland knew he had to follow suit. The site of the crash was as good of a rallying point as any other and moreover, he would not be shown up by a mage!

"Who is your commanding officer here?" Roland asked the soldiers around him.

"No idea, sir," one of them replied whilst reloading his weapon.

"Then you're it. Make sure you hold the line here at all costs while I lead the assault." Then with sword raised, the Old Lion roared, "Knights and Battlemages on me! Rally at the crash site!"

Focusing Ki into his legs and feet, Roland dashed across the battlefield in a whirlwind sprint, speeding by like a flash of lightning. As he ran, he noticed a ball of blue and orange flame sailing through the air from the rear before expanding into an almighty explosion among the enemies converging on the crash site. The old Knight had to look away from the sheer brightness of it as he skidded to a stop, taking a moment to wait for it to subside before looking up again. Sure enough, he could see that Isaac had beaten him to the objective and there beside the remains of the shuttle was Emmet, alive and well.

"Sir Emmet Dukes, you have the devil's luck," Roland said as he approached, stepping around the bodies of fallen enemy soldiers.

Not a heartbeat later, the Knight known as 'Zombie' arrived, coming to a complete stop after what must have been a mad dash for miles. Junia Menarini was a sight to behold in her Hepius power armour, covered in blood and gore, but more noticeable to Roland were the odd spots in the stains where plate and most likely flesh alike had regenerated from wounds received. Life threatening were it not for her abilities, but then again it was also what made her an asset.

"Good of you to join us as well," Roland said to her. "I apologize for the change in plans, I can see you have had a hard time of it. Did you manage to take out the enemy's elite unit?"

As if in response, a voice bellowed out in the distance, "Double pay to whoever kills the fucker that wrecked our ride!"

"That money's mine!" another called out and then they appeared. The men of Diamond Company. Scorched, scratched up and mad as hell.

Like demons, they zipped around on jet boosters with guns ablaze. One of them was unarmed and unarmoured, keeping up with the movements of his fellows by simply running on his own two feet; whilst another had a sword in one hand and a bouquet of grenades in the other. A gift for the Knights of Belisio which he promptly threw before closing the distance and then all hell broke loose.

"To arms!" Roland yelled as he leaped back to avoid the explosions, only to end up clashing blades with the mercenary captain.

---

"Yes, they are good people."

It only took five little words to break the storm raging in Duncan’s mind. Calmness took him. He closed his eyes, inhaled deeply, held it, then slowly exhaled. All of his doubts and trepidation were swept away with that breath.

Good people…

Five little words and suddenly everything made sense. The Knights and Mages were good people. But there are some things that Good People can’t do, so that’s why he and his brothers were there. They were the Bad People that could help the Good People take down the Very Bad People. Just like in the shows that he would sometimes get to watch with Ms. A…

Miss…who?

He shook away the thoughts. Calm. He was calm. And filled with new found resolve.

Ducky returned the Holy Man’s kind smile with one of his own, reflecting Kai’s gentleness. Mimicking it. He then gave a nod before he pulled his attention to the drag bag he clutched close to his chest. As he did so, a face began to form in his mind.

A face he had been learning for days now.

The face of a Very Bad Person. A Very Bad Person who did very bad things.

He was strong. Too strong. He made the game unfair, so he had to be removed. That was Duncan’s primary objective:

The assassination of Vincent Ryder.

---

As the shuttle touched down and the ramp began to lower, it was the Holy Man who was front and center. Duncan watched as projectiles cut through the air in their direction, only to harmlessly fall to the ground once they made contact with Kai’s barrier. The lead Spectre then turned to his brothers and gave a rally.

"Let's get to work now and take care of each other out there. Light be with you all."

Ducky nodded, but only sat back as the others began to spill out of the vessel. He pulled his sidearm out and checked the magazine count. When he was satisfied with that, he leaned forward and closed his eyes in concentration.

Along the boy’s spine, a long metal plate was affixed. Of the five partially sunken orbs, one began to twitch. A dull light emitted from the grooves in the steel sphere before it popped free, twisting and folding until it took a new shape altogether. It hovered in the air for a moment, as manic and frantic in its movements as a hummingbird, before darting out of the shuttle and climbing higher and high into the sky. Through its lens, Ducky scanned over the chaos from upon high, the warriors no more than ants beneath him. It was…staggering, just how many people there truly were. He was no stranger to battle, but the nature of his speciality rarely took him to the frontlines. But this mission would be different. His mark was likely to appear close to the action.

The problem was the sheer amount of action happening. Finding his mark in this mess would be like finding a needle in a haystack. Or perhaps a needle in a needlestack would be a more fitting scenario. In any case, just marveling over the scale of the work would do him little service. It was time to get to it.

The drone’s lens shifted, zooming in on an engagement on a far side of the battlefield. A group of Belisian soldiers were pushing into the enemy line. From his place in the shuttle, Ducky pushed forward with his mind, first traveling high to his drone…and then falling down onto the group he had been observing. As he fell, Ducky reached out, trying to grab hold of anything…

He lightly grazed something. Something warm. Excitement? He pushed into that feeling, immersing himself until…

Ducky’s sight became filled with dirt and blood. Suddenly it shifted. A face he didn’t recognize lay below him, twisted in a horrible grimace of pain. A knife is pulled from the neck, with a flood of dark red behind it. A groan escapes the mouth it spits and stutters. Already the eyes go from piercing into him to searching for something past him. The sky? Ducky’s vision shifts, scanning over what appears to be a number of Belisians engaged in melee with Vaimese troops. A loud bang cuts through the air as a geyser of sand spits skyward. Shooter. A second bang fires out, but Ducky is aware of it before he hears it. Intense pain shoots through his leg before crawling across the rest of his body. His sight shifts again, and Ducky can just barely make out a pair of eyes in the distance.

So he pushes forward. In the next moment, he is surrounded by rubble. Makeshift defenses. In his sight, he sees a boy lying in the dirt, a lake of blood growing around him. He can feel the cold metal of the rifle in his hands, even if he can’t see it. His hands move to the action but his sight never changes. He’s a passenger to a shooter. A good one at that. Ducky can tell by the shooter’s steady sight that he’s found his next target. The boy tries to push into the shooter’s thoughts…but there’s nothing. The man is focused. So Ducky focuses as well. Underneath the chaos of the battle around them…Ducky hears something. Unsteady. Heavy. There’s somebody else. Out of sight but…

Ducky pushes his mind towards the sound. Blind to it, he flails wildly…until he grazes something. Again, he latches onto it, trying to pry his way inside.

A dark sky fills his sight. Unsteady breathing is making him shaky. A loud bang cuts through the air and Ducky’s sight comes across the shooter from behind. She curses and goes to load another round, but a distant clapping sound is heard, and dark crimson sprays over Ducky’s vision. It goes dark for a moment, as the body wipes the viscera from its face, but when the sight returns, Ducky observes the shooter slumped onto her side, the rifle still gripped in her hands. She’s unmoving. It was a good shot.

Duncan feels something cold. It’s fear. He begins to push deeper into his hosts’ thoughts. A string of curses. Despair over his comrades’ deaths. Anger. Resentment. A question. An angry, repeated question: where is Diamond Company?

…what is Diamond Company?

The boy released his grip on the fearful Vaimese’s mind. The tension snaps his consciousness back to his body in the shuttle. His breath unsteady, Ducky looks around for a moment, touching the seat of the shuttle, his drag bag, then finally his face. He’s back. He’s him. He settles himself, before pushing back to the eye in the sky. From above, he searches the battlefield, looking for any sort of transport heading for where he was.

Nothing. Although…

Something had caught his attention. The wreckage of a downed enemy shuttle. It would be difficult to know where it was heading, but it did at least seem to be roughly facing the appropriate area. Interestingly enough, there appeared to be another downed shuttle not too far away. An allied shuttle.

Back in the shuttle, the boy twitched as another orb sprang to life. It too shot out before taking to the skies, this time making a beeline towards the pair of downed dropships as it passed over a contingent of Knights heading in the same direction. It arrived at the allied ship as survivors of the crash began fighting off attackers. A pair of allied mages arrived shortly after one another at the scene to offer reinforcement, but it was of little concern to the boy as he soared overhead towards the other shuttle.

It didn’t have to go too far before the little Duckling found what it was looking for. A group of non-standard highly-equipped enemy soldiers were marching from their downed ship to the other downed ship. They seemed a little banged up, but more than that, they seemed pissed. Ducky began to push his mind toward them for a little probing when he laid his eyes on the mark.

Vincent Ryder.

How fortunate. He could just take a little peek inside Ryder’s head and figure out where he would be go-

A shot rang out and Duncan’s vision began to spin. He was falling. He was tumbling. He tried to steady the orb, but another shot rang out and it was no use. His vision cut out. It was dark. Blinded, Duncan tried his best to flail his mind, grab onto something, but it was no use. He found no purchase and quickly snapped back to his shuttle, where he let out a pained squawk.

Those…

Those MONSTERS

They shot his baby. His little duckling. THE AUDACITY OF THESE FUCKS!

Shaken, Ducky pulled his sidearm out again and his hand tightened around it in a death grip. His face felt warm. He rose to his feet, pulling his drag bag’s strap over his shoulder and made his way to the shuttle’s ramp. A number of Spectres were still around, but if he noticed, he made no sign of it. In this moment, he was blinded and deafened by rage.

It may have been his mission to kill Vincent Ryder, but that was just work. It was his job, nothing more. There was nothing personal about the whole thing.

But then his goons shot Ducky’s baby. His sweet, innocent little Duckling, who had never hurt anyone. _yet

That was going too far. Way over the line.

Muttering to himself, he stomped off toward the downed shuttles, his eye in the sky trained solely on the fuckers. The remaining three drones had all deployed and circled above Duncan like a halo, mindlessly firing at any poor Vaimese that got within their sights.

He was a man on a mission.

Mama off to avenge his baby.

Emmet looked towards Isaac Ryder, and after a moment a smiled curled upon his lips and a laugh broke out. He holstered his pistol, "Emmet Dukes" he said, giving the man before him a pat on the shoulder. Still holding his blade he gestured toward the crash site, "My company seems to have suffered something of a rotten crash, terrible luck I dare say!" He sighed out of tiredness and looked around, noticing that for the moment there was a lack of action at his position.

He looked once more to Ryder and began to speak, "and might I say that jacket of yours is quite ..." he cut himself off as he saw a figure in the distance. There was an uneasy aura about the soldier as they stood their menacingly, the blood on their armor making it unclear if this was a noble warrior or some sort of monster. Then again, Emmet noticed the blood on his own hands. Finally he finished his sentence looking at Ryder again, "the jacket is quite nice."

Suddenly he heard the familiar voice of Roland as the captain approached, and again a smile arose on Emmet's face. "Sir, you would not know how glad I am to see you! It would seem that the devil does not wish to claim me yet, although Miss Hepius Power Armor here certainly spooked me for a moment!" He began to chuckle softly before the sudden interruption of the demons of the air, devils calling out for his demise suddenly distracted him. Quickly Emmet pulled out his buckler, ducking behind it as the blast went off, feeling some bits of shrapnel slice into exposed shins. He hissed at the pain as he focused his ki into them in order to compensate.

"Well it seems our welcome here is over," he hissed to the others, "I am going to try and attend to my men at the crash site, I leave whatever else must be done to you!" With that he began to run towards the site, ignoring the pain in his legs. His feet went to a relevé position, and the smile faded from his face as his dance across the battlefield began. Waltzing amongst the many bodies lying on the ground he quickly began a flurry of carnage. He danced and swirled around the bodies of the living as well, taking detours into the combats of his fellow men. He quickly struck down Vaimese soldiers as he passed, striking at exposed angles while their were busy in one on one combat. The fellow knights of Belisio he saved began to follow him towards the shuttle. Upon reaching it his dance finally ended and some semblance of consciousness returned to his eyes, and Emmet fell to the ground beside the shuttle as finally he took to focus his ki on healing his legs while fellow members of his platoon kept watch of the oncoming storm.

Turzo "Wrath" Drunoda

Turzo kept up his assault in his support role mostly by creating the terrain between their lines and the enemies into a treacherous landscape of sink holes and earthen spike trap. Anything he could to slow their advance before figuring out what to do next. That was one thing he often had trouble with was discerning how much power to use and where his allies were so he would not hit them as well.

So far it seemed the simple wall he made was at least helping the main line so it would not falter any further than it had so far. Then the knight commander gave out orders to move and rally at the drop ship. Luckily for him the platform he was on was something he had designed as a mobile defense platform during his beginning classes in warfare as a child this was mostly since he did not use much in the way of armor or shielding compared to most other mages.

With a crack the stone platform broke free from the ground pulling many chunks of stone and earth up as well to encircle the mage and act as armor. Some pieces of stone and earth slowly rotated around the platform while others were constantly being swapped out with pieces that were being shot or damaged due to incoming fire. Every piece that was broken was used to rain back down upon the empire’s soldiers in a bludgeoning and piercing hail of rock chunks and stone splinters.

The stone egg could not keep up with the knight commanders’ pace but made good time none the less. A large Colom of stone and earth shot up to combine itself with the egg behind the crashed dropship and quickly took the form of what one would see as an ancient stone tower from the castles of old. Quickly ramparts and fortifications could bee seen in and around the design.

Unseen and protected in his earthen shield Turzo remained but was not idle. Lifting his arms, a thick stretch of stone raised up and raced towards the Belisio lines behind them in quick succession. Still rumbling the stone split down the middle and pushed out to either side with enough room that two men could traverse down it while being tall enough to give them cover while doing so. This was his attempt to connect the crash site back to their lines so that the wounded could get out and reinforcements could get in. now all that was left for him was to cut off reinforcements to the Dimond company. They were after all their biggest threat here, however Turzo did not believe he could hit them without hitting his allies as well so better to keep the small fry off their backs and allow for their own reinforcements to come in.

With his decision made the siege mage turned a dial on his mana regulator giving him access to more of his reserves. This action sent a notification to several battlefield commanders and the governing body of Belisio this includes the knight commander. One of the many things he had to do to let the others know that he was increasing his power. Turzo was aware this was so they could keep a better eye on him if they had to put him down. For his next move he would let the empire and its soldiers know he was here by unleashing his calling card.

Several small holes began to appear around the base of his fortified position on top of the tower with the top of it breaking off as well. Twisting and turning himself into what could only be called a dance of fire brought him into his favorite and most well used type of spell casting. Using the tower as a kiln of sorts pulling in oxygen from below, swirling it together and ejecting a bright flame above. The resulting thermal spike could even blind people and machines that used heat to see as the radiated heat saturated the surrounding area. This process took time but after a little while longer the stone protecting him began to turn bright orange and yellow sloshing away at the extreme temperatures until nothing was left but a column of swirling fire.

This was his calling card, things like this are what separated him from other mages of the empire. A show of force to demoralize and wither the hearts of men who faced it. With Wrath glowing just as bright as the fire he was channeling he pushed the flames to either side of him letting the flames run rampant through the enemy lines and around the crashed ship. This was really all he could do at his current state as he effectively cut a wide swath around his allies and the Dimond company separating them with a sea of fire that consumed all within. All he could do now was maintain the flame’s and hope the others could keep the fire off him long enough for them to win.

Liffis kept up the kinetic barrier for as long as it took for the Spectres to disembark from their shuttle and set about their tasks. Unlike the Knights and Battlemages, they had no leader or unifying force to hold them all together. There was only the mission and the orders they were given, and the one issued by the Knight Commander could not be any simpler: kill the mages. A task that the Spectres were more than well acquainted with.

Unbeknownst to the old Knight however, some of them had already been assigned targets that could not be allowed to live regardless of the outcome of this battle. Targets they would pursue at the earliest given opportunity, which almost immediately presented itself in the form of a crash landing shuttle. One of ours, Liffis noted as he watched the downed aircraft falling from the sky, trailing smoke and bodies.

"Knights and Battlemages on me! Rally at the crash site!" he heard the Knight Commander roar and almost followed after before realizing that no one else made a move to follow with him.

"We should help them," Liffis said as the Spectres passed by, casually ignoring the plight of their allies.

"Screw off, Holy Man," one of them snarled before activating his cloaking device and vanishing from sight. "I'm not one of your little followers. Besides, did you hear him calling for any of us?"

"Sorry Liffis," another said as she gave an apologetic pat on his shoulder. "But he's right. They don't need us and we don't need them. Good distraction though."

Disappointed, Liffis stood there looking forlornly towards the crash site as each of his fellows went their separate ways. It should have been no surprise since most Spectres worked alone - preferred to in fact - but it was still saddening to see that even on an active battlefield, almost none of them were willing to work together. Only a handful remained behind, one of them being Duncan due to the nature of his powers, but he may as well have been on the other side of the battlefield with his senses focused elsewhere, hundreds of metres in the air and seeing what his drone was seeing. Something had gone wrong however and Liffis could feel a wave of blinding rage emanating from the young boy as he started making a beeline for the crash site with pistol in hand.

"Wait," Liffis said as he reached a hand out to him. "I'll go with you."

"We're with you too," one of the remaining Spectres added as he stood by their side. "Light willing, we may save some lives."

No sooner had he spoken however than a wall of flames suddenly erupted on the battlefield, burning through enemy lines and encircling the crash site. The turncloak mage was working his magic, more fearsome and destructive than anything Liffis had ever seen before. Then again however, he rarely saw such things in the first place considering his line of work. If any mage he slew had been capable of similar feats of power, he never gave them the chance to display it.

"Don't worry, I got this," Liffis reassured his fellows as he walked towards the crash site, holding his arms out once again and using his telekinetic powers to open a breach in the flames. Like the other Spectres who had wandered off, he had been assigned his own target as well, but that could wait after helping the Knights first. Ohren Forec could wait.

I ask of you, Lord,

Grant me your armor, to wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against the corrupted spirit that stirs up the will of each man and woman who raise their hands in defiance against You. Grant me your sword, to protect those who You see as your children. Grant me courage, to stand in between the innocent and all those fiery darts of the wicked. Grant me strength, to strike at the beast who has tamed the cowardly, and release those who seek you but do not have the strength to ask. In your name, I pray, Amen.

Griff’s eyes were shut, his head tilted slightly forward and down. Praying, he intently shuffled between beads, pressing each one in between his index finger and thumb, each bead told a story, a story of his love for each one of his brothers and sisters in arms. Next to Griff sat Dane. Dane muttered a mantra he received from his family in his early childhood, a mantra that kept his focus clear and emotions in check. Federo checked and re-checked his weapon system, a ritual or a compulsive disorder, he was never sure of which. Ciri and her brother Dante hummed a soft tune they learned from their beloved mother. Lucia kept silent. Kass and Omir bantered.

Regardless of the method, each found their peace before chaos, before the rounds of lost souls fired upon them, and the edge of bleeding hearts tried cutting them.

Roland announced, “Open the door, pilot.” He paused, “Let them see us.” The draw gate from the back opened to scenes of war. The sense was immediate, Hell had come to Belisio. Roland roared, “Warriors of Belisio, you will stand firm!” A notion that needed no explanation, the Old Lion pounced from the safety of his Pride and into the fray. Possessed by his eternal ancestors, Roland charged his blade with Ki releasing the effects of its power on the walking dead.

One by one Griff’s unit dove from the belly of the shuttle onto the battlefield to meet their fearless leader in combat.

“Rally on me!” Roland roared, “Sir Vires, I shall hold the line here! Commence the attack and do not let a single enemy mage escape our wrath!”

Griff heard the calling, “Cadre form up!” Dane, Federo, Kass, Ciri, Dante, Lucia, and Omir felt the power of Griff begin to charge their own. It was what attracted each of them to Griff’s leadership. His ability to immediately increase their confidence and strength was always a mystery.

Overhead one of the shuttles was shot down by an enemy mage, Dane called out, “Do we go?” Griff took a brief moment as Vaimese soldiers approached their position. Kass stepped forward unlocking her shield’s radius to extend it 1’, she planted it in the ground as they took some small arms fire. Federo positioned right above her slamming his Light Machine Gun down on the top of it where a small slot existed for the weapon to rest. Unleashing a barrage of rounds, the Vaimese dropped down halting their advance for now.

Once the shots settled, a massive blast erupted behind them to the East where the shuttle had crashed. A wall of fire and pluming smoke stretched upward. Griff scanned behind him and spotted Turzo razing the enemy who attempted to push on the downed shuttle. Griff turned to face his team and answered, “No. I think Turzo just bought us some time." Kass puffed a little at her feelings toward the traitor, "Does this mean I have to be kind to him?" Griff didn't answer, "If we push the line, we can give our reinforcements some space to catch up with less resistance toward recovering that downed shuttle." Griff paused, "If we don't push this line, the Vaimese may receive reinforcements that swarm this position and the downed bird, let's capture this moment as they focus on the shuttle, we will move behind them and squeeze them between the defensive position of the crash site and us." The team acknowledged, “Alright, Pincer movement, I want that mage who shot at our bird, but it looks like we’ll need to get through that one first.” Griff pointed ahead at a mage who was both reinforcing the attack on the crashed shuttle, and where Griff’s unit was pushing. Griff ordered Dane, Ciri, and Lucia to go right, while Griff, Kass, and Omir took left. Federo remained to lay down cover fire and keep the enemy trained on his position. Small arms rounds punched and ricocheted off the shield in front of Federo, some deflecting off his shoulder armor, but until these Vaimese brought in heavy weapons, he mise well be a bunker to them.



“Get down!” Dane called out to Ciri and Lucia as a missile launched at their position. The missile screamed over their heads smacking into the scorched earth. The debris of limbs and chunks of rock tossed up around them, creating a brief loss in visibility. Dane did a roll call, “Ciri, Lucia, check?” Lucia responded first, “Check,” followed by Ciri, “Check!”

There was a short mound of rock covering their position from the Vaimese line of sight, “Eagle 2 to Eagle 1, we are 20 meters away with sights on the duck, waiting for your command.” Griff called back, “Are you good Eagle 2? We saw that missile strike rally overhead.” Dane responded, “All good Captain, the Vaimese are as good as shots as they are Knights.” Griff smirked, “Okay, we are 27 meters from the target down in a crater, when I fire my flare, I want you to attack first as weapons train on us.” Dane acknowledged, “Roger Eagle 1, good luck!”

Crack

Federo felt the impact of a high-powered rifle round hit the shield which sent him forward into a face plant. He did not realize it until rolling over, the shield was punctured below and his right thigh was punched slightly with the round landing to his left.

“F***!” Federo kept low as Vaimese soldiers used this opportunity to lay down superiority suppressive fire. Federo called in, “You guys better move! I got a sniper trained on my location and Vaimese soldiers closing in, give them a shock!”

Griff heard Federo over comms, “Federo hang tight, flare in 30 seconds.”

Griff looked at Kass and Omir, “Omir, when I set the flare wait for Eagle 2 to draw fire, then you take front with your shield. Kass and Dante you are laying down fire over Omir’s right shoulder as we push. I will dash 5 yards adjacent from our position and fire the 3 ion charges I have charged. Hopefully the Vaimese will be confused on who they should be firing at which leaves me a direct opening to take on that Mage who is sitting behind them.” Kass, Dante, and Omir confirmed by punching their own shoulder across their chest.

Griff’s thigh armor opened up with a small wave of his hand, a small flare drew out just enough for him to grab quickly. Griff aimed up firing the flare into the air to draw attention.



Eagle 2 formed by Dane, Ciri, and Lucia reacted to the flare, “Now!” Dane rose from prone immediately targeting Vaimese troops with precision down the barrel of his assault rifle.

Pop. Pop. Pop.

Every target Dane aimed at, he hit, quick precise shots at medium range was his specialty. Ciri followed by pressing up as the Vaimese troops reoriented their attention on Eagle 2. She fired several rounds of her assault rifle which kept the Vaimese soldiers from firing accurately at Eagle 2’s position and dropped. Dane and Lucia took this window of opportunity by Dane maneuvering in front of Ciri, while Lucia emerged with his high-powered rifle firing a shot at the Mage. The Mage managed to shield himself in time to stop Lucia’s round, but this took the Mage’s attention away from the rest of the battlefield. Ciri tossed a smoke grenade, and Dane lobbed an hand grenade into the Vaimese protection line of the Mage. Lucia moved to Ciri’s position tapping her shoulder, Ciri moved to Dane’s and Dane moved forward as the debris from his hand grenade explosion settled before Ciri’s smoke was completely ejected.

Crack

Dane felt a sharp pain hit his rib cage and strength quickly left his feet. Smashing into the earth in front of him, he tried breathing but his wind was knocked out 13 meters from the target.



“Go, go, go!” Griff commanded as he saw Eagle 2 making quick progress, too quick. Omir launched from his position taking some small arms fire into the front face of his shield. Kass and Dante rallying behind him sent several of their antagonists to the grave within seconds of engagement. The Vaimese soldiers had mostly been trained on Eagle 2, some even trying to finish off Dane who was collapsed on the ground taking some small arms fire to his armor, but now, the Vaimese split their attention between Eagle 1 and 2.

Ciri called over comms, “Dane’s been hit! I repeat he is down 3 meters in front of me. Smoke is fully up, I need suppressing fire on our side to retrieve him.” Griff cursed under his breath, “Omir, Dante, and Kass move up and focus shots on the Eagle 2’s front advance, I will take our side alone. Griff rushed from position 5 meters as planned. Kass, Dante, and Omir moved further away than planned from Griff to cover Ciri who was in the middle of pulling Dane in the cover of smoke, back to their original position behind the rock.

Lucia kept the pressure on the Mage firing another round which shifted the Mage’s attention from Griff who he was just about attack. Griff made it to his spot with little resistance as most Vaimese were now facing off against Omir, Kass, and Dante. Three ion blasts, one right after another, ripped through the flank of the Vaimese line halting the pressure they were forcing on Omir and Kass.

Crack

Lucia went to move position to get another angle and as he did, a round punched into his rifle just as he slung it around his side to move. The round punched Lucia off balance but his wind was fine.

“D*** my weapon’s been hit, we need to take care of that sniper!” Lucia called out.

Federo chimed into comms, “On it!” Federo had traced the sniper’s location after having shot him first and then Dane. He was looking for the next flash, which presented when Lucia was struck. Now, Federo had the sniper pinged on his HUD, the HUD would guide the mini anti-tank rocket system on his shoulder to the sniper’s location.

The sniper’s barrel emerged once more behind a wall of rock and dirt. Hiding in plain sight to protect the Mage…not anymore, Federo thought. He released two mini anti-tank rockets which propelled up into the air forming a smooth parabola trajectory between himself and the target. Two explosions tossed the sniper’s body into the air.

“Sniper’s cold.” Federo called out.



Dane was down with Ciri covering. Lucia’s weapon was out. Federo would take a bit to catch up to the front. Kass and Omir were keeping the Vaimese busy. It was time for Griff to throat strike this Mage. After the ionic blasts disoriented the Vaimese soldiers, he charged in through the gap it created. Unsheathing his Edged Wing, a 37” double-edged sword that separates into two single-edged blades. On his first run, he came crashing down after launching himself over the Vaimese gap releasing a surge of electricity within 2 ft of his proximity, the first Vaimese defenders shocked in place fell to their knees, while the second set of defenders came rushing to where Griff landed. Without much effort, Griff cut them down with his sword. Griff’s success triggered Omir and Kass to charge their line next. Dante drew his knives while Kass and Omir both drew their short swords engaging the Vaimese soldiers, leaving Griff and the Mage to one another.

The Mage looked at Griff, “Next time!” The Mage went to retreat but felt his body becoming weighted. Griff was focused on the Mage which generated a field of Ki that prevented a target like this Mage from retreating, “What is happening?!” The Mage turned to face Griff and felt the weight begin to lift. Griff answered, “You cannot leave without going through me now.” Griff launched to begin his swift advance. The Mage enraged conjured a flame to end Griff’s haste, but upon throwing it, Griff waved his weapon freehand sending channeled Ki to disrupt the charge. The flame as quickly as it grew, dissipated right as it left the Mage’s hand. Before the Mage could conjure again the sharp pain of steel penetrating his torso shot through his body, soul, and mind.

The Mage struck in shock, coughed up blood leaning on Griff’s shoulder. Griff stepped back with precise technical movements as a master in swordsmanship, pulled out his Edge Wing, and cut across the throat of the Mage separating head from the body.



Griff’s team licked their wounds as Belisian soldiers gathered up the cut on the battlefield created by the retreat. Lucia and Federo played with Lucia’s rifle to repair it. Omir was using his Ki to heal Dane’s critical wound. Kass, Ciri, and Dante were reloading weapons while Griff gave the next order, “We do not have much time to move. Pushing while Vaimese are retreating from this position might be the only shot we got at really creating a foothold for more reinforcements. Our next target is that Mage who shot down the shuttle. They are probably sitting at a distance from where that shuttle crashed East of here. If we can cross the line while the Vaimese are retreating to their next defensive position, I think we can get close enough to where the Vaimese fighting lines are pushing on the shuttle. If we can spot that Mage we go for it, but if not, then we flank the Vaimese and support the crash site’s defensive efforts.” Griff paused, “Everyone clear on directives?” Kass answered, “Yes, what about Dane?” Griff looked at Omir who shook his head and reported, “Dane’s going to live, but the wound was critical, it took a lot of my Ki and his to keep him alive, he needs more time to recover.” Griff nodded, “Thank God and thank you Omir.” Griff looked back to his team, “Omir will stay with Dane. Federo, Ciri, and Lucia are designated Eagle 2. Omir you will bring Dane back to the drop zone and off the front lines. If Dane needs to be evacuated, get him on the next bird down, the rest form up, let’s move out!” Griff’s cadre checked their weapons, tightened their gear, and followed Griff to the East behind the Vaimese fighting line that was pushing on the crash site.