Barbarians

And then someone yelled out "Contact!", and the bloke behind me swore

We hooked in there for hours, then a God almighty roar

And Frankie kicked a mine the day that mankind kicked the moon

God help me - he was goin' home in June

And I can still see Frankie, drinkin' tinnies in the Grand Hotel

On a thirty-six hour rec. leave in Vung Tau

And I can still hear Frankie, lying screaming in the jungle

'Til the morphine came and killed the bloody row

And the Anzac legends didn't mention mud and blood and tears

And the stories that my father told me never seemed quite real-

I caught some pieces in my back that I didn't even feel

God help me - I was only nineteen

Redgum - “I Was Only Nineteen”

“...I would have to agree, Admiral,” Jiyazh said after viewing the plot, “I believe we have gotten the Masters’ attention.”

The pair shared a look as they watched the enemy come boiling out of Zhis at last. It had taken them far longer to realize what Operation Bankshot entailed than he’d ever imagined...and it would cost them.

“I’m sorry,” the human said gently. “What this will do to your world...to any still alive…”

“...there are no Khonhim alive on Zhis,” the Dhyaksh said in harsh tones, harsher than he’d intended. “The Masters will have seen to that by now. And if any are still alive…” He looked out into space; towards the world they were approaching. “...they will see this as a deliverance.”

Admiral Otxoa decided not to belabor the point. “Well...let them come,” she said. “They’re not stopping Bankshot now. No way in Hell.”

The two leaders shared a thin smile as they gazed at the result of all their labors. For weeks they had worked in tandem, emplacing the massive engines on the gas giant’s moon they had chosen. The moon itself was unremarkable, a cratered ball of rock, but as the engines had come to roaring life, nudging the planetoid from its ancient orbit and sending it on a brand new trajectory, it had become something very different.

A weapon.

The Masters hadn’t spotted it at first, not until it had broken free of the planet it had once circled and began its headlong dive towards the sun. But as it continued to accelerate it soon became impossible to ignore. They were coming now, burning hard for the small moon destined to collide with Zhis, intent on deflecting it...but they would fail.

The Admiral turned to Jiyazh. “Dhyaksh...what are your intentions?”

The combined Khonhim/Human fleet stood assembled, and as the enemy charged towards him he felt the familiar call to battle sing in his veins. He knew the order he wanted to give...but prudence stayed his hand.

“You are certain they cannot prevent its impact?” he asked.

“Not any longer,” she confirmed. “They missed their chance, and now the window is closed.”

The old warrior nodded. “Very well. Send out the order...to withdraw.” He chuckled at her surprised expression. “We will pull back to the fringe of the system and monitor the Masters from there. Once they realize they cannot stop the moon from hitting Zhis, it will force them to withdraw.” His eyes narrowed as he watched the enemy vessels. “Perhaps they will follow us and attempt to engage, but I suspect not. No, they will fall back to Gzuj and regroup. I am certain of it.”

“They won’t fall for Bankshot a second time,” she informed him.

“They will not,” Jiyazh agreed, “which means it will force us to deal with them...as honor demands,” he said with a thin smile.

“Graybird?” Tango’s voice came over the radio, punctuated with gunfire, “I suggest you expedite.”

“I’m working as fast as I can,” he snarled.

“Ronin in sight,” Musashi reported, as the hollow fwoomp of the grenade launchers added to the sounds of battle. “Engaging,” he added, somewhat unnecessarily.

Taichist looked at his sister as he checked his weapon. “Chechla, I…” he began, before his words trailed off into silence.

She met his gaze. “...at least there will be family at my side, at the end,” she murmured, as she chambered a round and searched for a target.

The twins didn’t have to wait long. A pack of infected Ronin charged over the small rise loping towards them like wolves. “...Tango?” Chechla squeaked.

“I don’t have a shot,” the sniper reported. The Saurotaurs clutched their weapons tight against their shoulders as the throng moved in for the kill.

“...sorry kid,” Tango whispered, her voice filled with regret.

Crack Crack Crack

The sound made her jump, as her brother discharged his weapon...but moments later she was adding her fire to his, as the pair struggled to take the Ronin down.

The next few minutes were a whirlwind of action as the team fought for survival. Whisper and Musashi were dropping grenades like small mortars all around them, trying to break up the mob, while Tango picked off the stragglers that wandered into her sights. The twins emptied one magazine after another into the mechanical enemy, making up for in volume of fire what they may have lacked in accuracy. They winnowed down the Ronin, but even as they took them down one last machine charged at them, seeming to dodge their fire as it made an impossible leap, throwing itself at young Saurotaurs. Taichist got his rifle up just in time to blunt the worst of the attack, but the Ronin’s inertia drove him to the dirt as its metal claws tore at him.

Chechla fought to defend her brother, but a casual swipe from its arm sent her flying, dazing her. She scrabbled around for her weapon once she regained her senses, lost in the struggle, frantic to save Taichist, and…

Wham Wham

Her eyes were wide as she looked up, staring at Graybird looming over them with a rather substantial looking sidearm in his hand, while Taichist pushed the now lifeless metal chassis off his body.

“Tango says more are on the way,” he warned them, not hanging around for words of gratitude as he hurried back to the shuttle.

Chechla went to her brother’s side, helping to free him from the inanimate machine. “Are you all right?” she asked, reaching for her MedKit.

Despite the blood staining his tunic, he waved her off. “I am well,” he told her, taking up his rifle once more and loading a fresh magazine.

His sister took professional notice of his wounds, recognizing none were immediately life-threatening, before turning away to focus on more immediate matters. She found her rifle half-buried and took it up once more, shaking loose the worst of the dirt as Tango’s rifle and the grenade launchers began their deadly staccato once again.

The twins had a moment to touch hands, gripping one another with fierce devotion, as the next horde thundered into view.

“...Creator preserve us,” Taichist said in horror, already firing as Chechla did the same. This group was much larger than the previous one...and the young Saurotaurs realized their luck had just run out.

“Get DOWN!” Graybird roared, and twins obeyed with the speed only those fresh from training...or combat...can match. They dove for cover, burying themselves deep in their foxhole, as a deep booming Kha-whap! arced over their heads. Rime ice instantly coated every exposed centimeter as the temperature dropped fifty degrees in the space between one heartbeat and the next.

An eerie silence filled the land, as they risked peering over the rim of their shared earthwork to stare in disbelief at the frozen tableau. Permafrost covered the land, the twins shivering in the cold as they gaped at the swarm of Ronin, only moments earlier determined to end their lives, now little more than glistening statues carved from glacier ice.

“Oh…my…” Chechla got out, as Graybird’s voice came over the radio.

“Whisper...grab your ax and collect some heads,” he sighed, “cause that blast fried the entire system. There’s no way I can repair it now.”

“At least it worked,” Tango pointed out as Whisper yanked out his chopper and trudged through the fresh ice to do what was needed. “If you can keep them from suiciding before we can tease out their secrets, maybe we have a chance.”

“How are we looking?” Musashi asked.

“...clear, for now,” Tango replied from her perch, “but who knows how long that’ll last?”

A heavy sounding Thunk reverberated across the still vista as Whisper chopped off a head, giggling to himself as it fell to the ice below. The Saurotaurs could only watch in sick fascination as the human sociopath collected their samples, enjoying every moment of his horrifying task.

The team heard a new voice on the channel, as a pair of Comet fighters flashed overhead. “This is Nassat,” he said, as the twins began trembling once again…and not from the cold, “What is your status?”

“We ran into a few complications,” Tango said, “but we’re good. We’re collecting the samples now. Could use a lift back though,” she chuckled.

“We’ve dispatched another shuttle to gather you up and return you to Chiron,” he informed her, “until then, the Comets will fly cover, to keep any more of the infected Ronin from your position.” There was a pause, and then “Have you sustained any casualties?” he asked.

“Negative, General,” Tango replied, “everyone down here is still in one piece.”

His voice broke, as he whispered, “Understood. Nassat, clear.”