The Cold Wind (Ch 46 - End)
#2 of The Cold Wind 1
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Chapter Forty-Six
"Alright, spread out," Crystal whispered into her communications link to the other warriors in her vicinity. She winced when somewhere, off in the distance, there was another muffled «Whump!» when some unlucky warrior set off another of the New Home improvised explosive devices. She reached a small park at the same time as a dozen or so other warriors emerged from side streets and saw some sort of large weapon with a long barrel on the other side with stacks of metal cylinders beside it. The mossy surface of the park grounds appeared to have been torn up recently by the movement of heavy machinery. She realized this must be one of the weapons they deployed to bring down the frigate earlier. "We require an engineer at my co-ordinates. We have located one of their heavy-weapon emplacements and desire to have it disabled," she spoke quietly into her communications unit. Catching movement from the corner of her eyes, she observed several New Home Vanguard sprinting for the open doorway of a large multi-story building heading away from the direction of the weapon. Spinning around, she instinctively fired her assault rifles and was rewarded with a cry when one of them fell to the ground, two of the others hesitating and turning to help their comrade. The other warriors near her also began to fire and both of the stragglers abandoned the injured Vanguard and fled into the building. With several warriors covering her, she stalked along a side path to the fallen enemy and kicked his strangely primitive-looking assault rifle out of his reach before hunkering down beside him. The New Home Vanguard was bleeding quite severely from several chest wounds punched through his unusual body-armor and didn't look like he would last much longer. He looked up at her through eyes fogged with pain. "You are going to die here. Far from home and those you love," he hissed softly at her before succumbing to a coughing fit while his blood pooled on the ground beneath him. "Hrrr, that may be possible." She looked away briefly toward the park as the other warriors began to spread out, several stepping warily across the park toward the large weapon. Crystal didn't hate New Home or the warriors they were fighting. They were attempting to defend their homes and families; she would have done exactly the same in their place. "What is your designation, warrior?" Closing his eyes, the warrior appeared to be fading fast so she gently shook him. "Your designation?" "Rolls-Like-Thunder," the warrior whispered, barely audible. "Would that we meet as friends one day, Rolls-Like-Thunder," she rumbled softly. The warrior didn't respond; he was dead. With a sigh, Crystal stood and lumbered over to retrieve the warrior's assault rifle. Unlike the considerably lighter rifles that she and her troops carried this one was much heavier and bulkier and had no controls other than a safety and trigger. Aiming at the sky she pulled the trigger and shot off a few rounds. The weapon bucked in her hand and made the now familiar staccato rapid-fire noise she and her troops had come to know and fear, along with a small amount of the acrid white smoke from the projectile propellant. She smiled sadly and laid the rifle down beside the warrior's body before staring warily at the dark entrance to the nearby building that the other _New Home_Vanguard had disappeared into. She fired off a couple of high-explosive rounds into the entrance as a precaution, then made her way forward, followed by several other warriors who had been waiting nearby. Seconds later there were several large, additional explosions from inside the building, which began collapsing, slowly at first then faster as the foundations crumbled from the blast. Panicked warriors attempted to sprint for their lives while the building collapsed around them, burying Crystal and the other unfortunate warriors under many thousands of tons of concrete and metal as well as catching a few others who were too slow to escape. Hidden eyes looked with grim satisfaction at the carnage their demolition job had caused before they surreptitiously melted away into the shadows.
* * *
Over the next few hours the defenders were slowly but surely forced to retreat back to the military base by the sheer numbers of attackers, but not before inflicting heavy casualties. The Original Home warriors were being cut down almost as fast as they arrived by booby-trapped buildings, mines and intense localized gun battles. When Deep-Cut arrived, it proved to be the turning point of the battle on this section of the planet as he set about showing the warriors around him how he became the fleet leader. Eventually he, and a large contingent of warriors made their way out to the now heavily fortified base where both Bitter-Harvest and Crash were skulking about. "Who are the commanders here, hrrr?" Deep-Cut demanded as he stormed toward a disabled mobile weapons platform. One of the warriors taking cover behind the damaged platform turned to address the newcomer and, when he saw who it was, quickly lowered his weapon and tipped his head back, showing his throat in a sign of submission and respect. "Fleet-leader! This is an honor, hrrr! The two remaining pack-leaders are over by the other mobile weapons platform." The other warriors all stood at attention, necks exposed as soon as they realized who it was talking to their squad-mate. Deep-Cut grunted and made his way over to the other weapons platform where Crash and Bitter-Harvest were cowering from the occasional shot being fired by the defenders. "Why have you failed to secure this base already, hrrr? You outnumber them at least by 20 to 1." "Fleet-leader! This is an -" Deep-Cut calmly detached a small side-arm from his utility belt and shot Crash in the face. The suddenly headless body of the pack-leader staggered back and fell to the ground in an ungainly heap, blood pumping sluggishly out of the smoking neck-stump. The warriors behind the disabled weapons platform glanced at one another, smirking. Experienced pack-leaders always lead by example and are respected by the warriors they were responsible for. Unlike Crystal, both Crash and Bitter-Harvest had failed to win the respect of the warriors under their command, something the highly experienced Deep-Cut had picked up on very quickly. "I am not in the habit of repeating myself," he pointed the weapon at the wide-eyed remaining pack-leader. "So I would appreciate an answer to my original query, if you would be so kind." "T-They have barricaded themselves inside their base. We cannot breach the barrier with the weapons we have and are taking cover while waiting for an orbital strike." "Very well. Loader, I want a strike on this position," and he proceeded to read out the co-ordinates of the barrier into his communications unit. Several seconds later there was a loud hiss and an extremely bright beam of light speared down out of the clouds to strike at the fortifications. Making no distinction between concrete, metal or flesh the barriers were quickly destroyed. Deep-Cut took Bitter-Harvest aside before he began issuing further orders to the assembled warriors. "It is imperative we obtain the pack-leader of this base alive. If I discover that he or she has been terminated then you will only be able to fantasize about a death as quick as his," he snarled, kicking the headless corpse on the ground beside them. Snapping his jaw shut in nervous affirmation, Bitter-Harvest issued orders to the few hundred warriors remaining and they began to advance. The fighting was fierce and drawn out as the outnumbered defenders fought with their backs to the wall, but they inevitably fell a few minutes later. Bitter-Harvest was about to order a group of weary warriors to storm the command centre and root out the base pack-leader when Deep-Cut appeared, a satisfied grin on his face and his body covered with sprays of dark Vanguard blood. He eyed the pack-leader through eyes slitted with suspicion. "What do you think you are doing, hrrr?" "I understand the base pack-leader is located within. I was about to dispatch the warriors in to detain them." "Belay that. I want you to go instead." "M-Me, hrrr?" Bitter-Harvest stuttered, taking an involuntary step back with eyes widened in horror. "Yes, Y-You," Deep-Cut mocked him. "Return with their pack-leader or do not bother to return at all." The remaining assembled warriors glanced at each other in surprise at this turn of events, sharing an unspoken look of satisfaction mixed with relief. Bitter-Harvest drew his side-arms and hesitantly made his way into the darkened building. A minute or so later there were shouts and the sounds of a short-lived gun-battle deep inside followed by several minutes of silence. "Hrrr, if you want a job done properly," Deep-Cut sighed as he drew his weapons and entered the building, followed by several other warriors. His eyes adjusting to the darkened corridors, he cautiously made his way inside to what appeared to be the main control room, stepping over several bodies of warriors from both sides on the way. A thin haze of scorched metal and burnt plastic floated in the air as he walked up to an impressive (to his eyes) female who was crouched on the floor cradling the head of a dead older warrior. He noticed with wry amusement the body of Bitter-Harvest slumped against a dead control console nearby, blood still slowly dripping down the front of his body-armor from the deep talon gouges across his face and neck. The female Vanguard tenderly laid the dead warrior on the floor and slowly stood to face Deep-Cut, taking his measure as she looked him up and down with an expression of disdain evident on her craggy features. "My designation is Deep-Cut, fleet-leader of the recovery force sent to liberate this colony," he said, smirking at her. "Can I assume you are the pack-leader of this fine establishment, hrrr?" "You can make any assumption you desire. My designation is Dark-Mist and I can confidently speak for everyone on New Home when I say that you can take you and your...recovery force... and get the fuck off our world!" Deep-Cut liked this Dark-Mist female. She was feisty. With regret, he reigned in his libido and returned to the matter at hand. "Now, there is little requirement for rudeness. However, I am here on business and not...pleasure," he leered. "Do you speak with authority for all of your people, hrrr?" "Correct." "You and your forces have been a worthy adversaries up until now. However your forces have been neutralized. I am aware that there are still a large number of civilians in hiding across this planet and I wish them no harm -" Dark-Mist snorted disbelievingly, stabbing an accusatory talon at him and interrupting his practiced speech. "You attack our planet without warning, no quarter given. You damage or destroy our infrastructure and leave us defenseless. And you speak of wishing us no harm?! Take what little honor you have remaining and depart from this place! Communicate to your puppet-masters when you arrive back that New Home wants nothing further to do with them. We desire only to be left in peace." Opening his mouth to angrily respond, Deep-Cut was interrupted by a warrior entering the room and whispering something in his ear. Closing his eyes, he nodded slowly and swung his head back to face her with a grim expression. "Perhaps a demonstration of my intent is required. Bring her," he ordered the warriors standing behind him. Dark-Mist defiantly pushed their hands away when they made to grab her shoulders and brushed past them, leading the way to the exit. Deep-Cut gave a quiet order and a few seconds later there was a loud hiss and another spear of blinding light shot down out of the sky and hit a squat, heavily fortified structure on the edge of the base. Dark-Mist winced as the armory shimmered briefly before exploding in a massive fireball, the shock-wave racing across the ground cutting down several small figures sprinting desperately away from it. She spun around and made a lunge at Deep-Cut who had been expecting some sort of reaction. He sidestepped the attack then pounced on her as she struggled to regain her footing, knocking her to the ground. Winded, she hissed at him furiously. "You miserable sack of rank-shit! This changes nothing! Nothing, do you hear me?!" "Hrrr, I was hoping you would see reason and I would not have to resort to blatant threats." Deep-Cut released her and got to his feet. "This is my final offer: Unconditionally surrender and this world will become a section of the Vanguard Empire under the control of the Original Home Elders. All of the civilians will be safe from further harm and can partake of the benefits of belonging to the greater Vanguard civilization. That is not so bad an outcome, is it, hrrr?" Dark-Mist gave him a withering look. "And my warriors, hrrr? The clan elders -" "Are not included in this agreement. There is no requirement for them in the future of this colony. Come now, Dark-Mist! Surely you know that as well as I do," Deep-Cut interrupted, chiding her. "The alternative is that this planet and everything on it will be completely sterilized. What say you, hrrr?" "How about no. Does no work for you?" Dark-Mist spat at his feet. "I am fully aware of those anti-matter weapons you have aboard your vessel. Better a quick death than returning to the old ways." Deep-Cut sighed and looked at her sadly. "Very well. As an honorable warrior I am sorry to hear that. You and your people fought well, however, you have given me no choice but to finish this in the least honorable way. You no longer have much time remaining. Might I suggest you make your peace while you are still capable of doing so." He turned and departed, the warriors following but keeping her covered with their weapons as they withdrew. All over the planet, the Original Home warriors fell back back to their ships and lifted off from the surface, retreating to the safety of the fleet. The weary defense forces celebrations were short-lived when the realization sunk in about what this actually meant. Dark-Mist returned to the command centre and hunkered down beside the body of Shining-Scale, the deep emotions raking her body as she mourned his loss. She also mourned for the future that was soon to be cut short for her people. Shining-Scale had saved her from being shot in the back by leaping in front of Bitter-Harvest when he fired his weapons and had managed to take the enemy pack-leader out before succumbing to his injuries. As for their last-ditch attempt at stopping the approaching armageddon, nothing had been heard from Tainui or the Taniwha since it had launched a few hours earlier. Despite this, she was still grateful to the small alien. Some of the novel ideas he had come up with had given them enough of an edge to make the attack extremely expensive for the Original Home fleet. Unfortunately, all evidence suggested the Taniwha project had failed, not that she had ever expected it to make much of a difference; the human had unfortunately sacrificed himself in vain.
* * *
On the other side of the base Two-Talon, and one of the other surviving medics, was busy tending to the wounded warriors and engineers beside the wrecked remains of the med-center building that had been smashed flat by the shock-wave from the exploding armory. One of the last out, Attacks-First had only made it halfway to the cover afforded by one of the other buildings when he was cut down by flying debris in the explosion. Hunts-In-Grass had dragged the engineer and another unconscious Vanguard to where the two medics were working on the wounded. Several dozen warriors and a small handful of engineers had barricaded themselves inside what was the strongest building on the base when the main barricades fell an hour or so earlier. They had managed to force a stalemate with the attacking forces attempting to root them out of the improvised stronghold. When the attackers fell back prior to the strike, it was Attacks-First who became suspicious at the retreat and suggested they evacuate, saving many lives in the process. "These are the last two survivors. The others were not successful in their attempt to escape." Hunts-In-Grass dropped to his knees, panting from exertion. "You realize this is a futile gesture, hrrr?" Two-Talon gave him a brief, sad smile and turned to study the two new casualties, speaking quickly as he worked. "You refer to the anti-matter weapons, hrrr? Correct, I am familiar with them. I overheard some engineers discussing it before the battle." "However, here you remain. Doing what you do best..." "I would much prefer to be spending our last remaining time together, doing obscenely biological things to you that they have yet to invent names for, however..." he gestured helplessly at the injured Vanguard lying around him. "It is alright. Believe it or not, I do understand - it is one of the reasons I requested you to be my bond-mate. Now, how may I assist you, lover, hrrr?" "Assist me with turning this one onto his back. Hrrr! Careful, he is seriously injured." They gently flipped the unconscious engineer over and laid him on a blanket. Two-Talon recognized Attacks-First and hissed in surprise. The engineer was covered in blood and barely recognizable. He was also dying, a large section of reinforcing structural metal thrown out from the explosion appeared to have punctured one of his hearts and severely damaged some of his other internal organs. He'd also suffered a glancing blow to his head from some flying debris, resulting in severe head wounds. Placing his hands on Attacks-First, Two-Talon closed his eyes and concentrated, sitting back a few moments later, defeated; the internal injuries were simply too severe for his ability to heal. He attempted to heal the head wounds instead and was partially successful, the engineer began to regain consciousness after a few minutes. While the other medic assisted the rest of the wounded, Two-Talon set about making Attacks-First as comfortable as he could in the time he had remaining. Opening his eyes, the young engineer looked around confused, unsure of where he was or what was happening. "W-What...?" "You are safe, engineer. Many Vanguard owe their lives to you this day." Attacks-First weakly shook his head but stopped when the darkness almost claimed him again. He attempted to sit up but a stabbing pain in his chest forced him onto his back again, coughing and gasping for breath. The bitter taste of blood and the expression on Two-Talon's face both told him that he was in serious trouble. "At least confirm that Tainui succeeded. Where is he, hrrr?" "Succeeded, hrrr?" Two-Talon swung his head around and glared at Hunts-In-Grass accusingly, but the warrior squirmed uncomfortably and avoided his gaze. He narrowed his eyes and returned his gaze to the young engineer. "Succeeded at what, hrrr? I fail to understand. What was he attempting?" Ignoring the medic's questions, Attacks-First reached up and grabbed onto the front of Two-Talon's skinsuit with surprising strength given his condition, his eyes wide with fear. "He has failed to return, hrrr?" Two-Talon blinked, avoiding the desperate engineers eyes and unsure quite what to say in response. Hunts-In-Grass had mentioned some secret engineering project that Tainui had been involved with, but had pushed any thoughts of it into the back of his mind while he dealt with the battle and the injured Vanguard resulting from it. Only now he realized he hadn't seen or heard anything from, or about, their small friend for some time. His bond-mate's reaction appeared to indicate he knew more about what was going on than he had admitted to, but that could wait. "I am certain he is in hiding somewhere on the base and is safe from harm. You are required to rest and save your strength." "No, that is not poss - possible! I observed him depart. There...has not been...time..." Coughing weakly, Attacks-First's eyes closed as soothing unconsciousness claimed him. When he checked Attacks-First's rapidly weakening life-signs, Two-Talon realized the young engineer was unlikely to regain consciousness again, but at least was no longer in any pain. When he swung his head around, he saw that Hunts-In-Grass was still kneeling on the ground behind him, keeping himself busy by disassembling his assault rifle and cleaning it meticulously. In a carefully measured tone he questioned his silent bond-mate while desperately struggling not to just grab the warrior and shake the truth out of him. "You are required to communicate to me what you know. No lies, no evasion. Where is he, hrrr?" Laying the partially disassembled weapon gently to the ground, Hunts-In-Grass sighed and met his bond-mate's eyes with a resigned expression on his face. "Tainui is attempting to prevent the annihilation of New Home by destroying the anti-matter weapons on the attacker's Capital ship before they can be deployed. He is piloting a heavily modified shuttle that was converted into a weapon capable of destroying the -" "He what?!" Two-Talon roared, leaping to his feet and yanking the startled warrior to his feet as if he weighed nothing at all, expressions of horror, shame and betrayal fighting for dominance on his face. "You did not prevent him from this madness, hrrr? You did not think this important enough to share with me?" "Tainui understood the consequences of this mission! He also understood the consequences of the mission failing," Hunts-In-Grass growled while grabbing Two-Talon by the shoulders and shaking him roughly to emphasize his words - his own emotions beginning to spiral out of check. "This is something he felt he had to accomplish. Do you not believe that I attempted to dissuade him from this reckless action, hrrr?" "It did not need to be him! They could have located another volunteer..." With a mournful look, his bond-mate pulled a small and now somewhat battered-looking datapad from a pocket in his skinsuit and reluctantly handed it to him, all the while searching his eyes for understanding. After watching the recording on it, Two-Talon let the datapad slip from his shaking talons, clattering to the ground while the recording on it looped back to the beginning again. "...that I could not say this to you in person. I know you'd want to stop me and would probably have succeeded in talking me out of it. I couldn't let that happen, sorry bro. Hopefully, you'll never see this and will be none-the-wiser about it all, but if things haven't gone right then I at least wanted the opportunity to say goodbye. You and Hunts-In-Grass have shown me things I'd never _ dreamed _ of seeing. I've traveled at the speed of light and been to other stars, other planets! I've seen real live spaceships blowing themselves up in mega sci-fi battles, man!" Projected a small way above the screen, Tainui's holographically recorded face turned pensive and he smiled sadly. "Oh and hey - I know you still blame yourself for what happened to Andrej as well. Well, _ don't! _ We both knew the risks when we came with you, even if that took me some time to understand. I'm not gonna lie and say I still don't miss him after all this time... perhaps it was just never meant to be, aye. It kills me a little inside knowing that every time I go to sleep I will be waking up without him next to me. But seeing the love you share with your warrior-boy goes some way to making up for it though. You deserve someone good in your life. If you do nothing else, just promise me that you'll love each other to the end. I put myself out on a limb for you at your wedding, so don't go making me look like an idiot okay? Huh, now you've made me get all emotional and shit, ya big silly space-lizard!" He laughed, wiping away some tears. "Okay, I'm running outta time so better wrap this up. Thanks for allowing me to be part of your life. Kia kaha, Two-Talon. I love you, bro." The truth could sometimes be more painful than any physical injury and with dark, bloody tears flowing freely down his face, Hunts-In-Grass pulled his quaking bond-mate into his arms and held him tight. He also mourned the passing of the brave little human. "You are too close to him to see it clearly," he rumbled sadly. "However, given time you will come to understand. He did this for you...hrrr, he did this for us." While they held each other, silently crying amidst their fallen and injured comrades, far up in the sky a pinpoint of light blossomed into an incandescent white glare. The entire side of the planet facing the distant explosion was bathed in actinic light for several long seconds, bright enough to completely blot out the sun and eliminating every shadow. Simultaneously there was a deep rumbling when the entire planet underneath them trembled and shook. On the other side of the base inside the command-bunker, Dark-Mist shielded her eyes from the glare flooding in through a skylight and numbly waited for the end of the world. When it didn't happen after a few long, tense seconds, she began to laugh while the bright light slowly faded away. "Thank you," she whispered, closing her eyes in tired gratitude, not surprised when the ground vibrated underneath her while the planet rang like a bell. Surprised to discover themselves alive after the terrible glow faded, Two-Talon and Hunts-In-Grass looked at each other briefly out of still-dazzled eyes before turning their heads to the sky. They realized that their small, plucky alien friend had been successful in his desperate mission after all. For all his talk of being able to make it back, they both realized Tainui would not be returning to them. In the deathly silent aftermath, their combined mournful howl could be heard echoing across the base...
Chapter Forty-Seven
It wasn't until the Taniwha had reached high orbit that the trouble began. While ungainly in the atmosphere, Tainui was having a much easier time controlling the craft as the atmosphere thinned out, so much so that he was able to set it on auto-pilot and spend a few minutes collecting himself. The base engineers and warriors had concluded that if the anti-matter weapons were going to be deployed, the Capital ship would likely be moved away from the planet and once it had reached a minimum safe distance from New Home then it would be safe to take out. All he had to do was take the shuttle and conceal it on or near the far moon and wait until the Capital ship got underway before he targeted it; given its mass it had crap manoueverability and would be unable to adjust its flight-path very easily, making it an easy target and harder to defend. He'd thought he'd managed to slip cleanly through a slight gap in the attackers' sensor net via a polar escape route, but a few minutes later when the proximity alarm began to chirp, he realized his over-confidence was misplaced. A single small ship was closing in on the shuttle, most likely a fast-attack frigate judging by what the sensor readings were telling him. But for all that it might as well have been a fleet of battleships. "Shit," Tainui cursed and, throwing caution to the wind, pushed the engines to full-power, knowing that it simply wasn't going to be enough; the frigate was considerably faster than the modified shuttle at sub-light speeds. Getting away from the planet was the hardest part in the entire mission. They had been hoping for over-confidence on the part of the attackers, thinking they had the planet's airspace and orbit to themselves and wouldn't bother chasing what they thought was probably just a sensor anomaly. "They were fucking wrong," he hissed to himself, as he aimed the shuttle for the nearest moon in the vain hope that he could hide from their sensors amongst the crags and craters on the rocky surface. A holographic alarm symbol flashed up on the console and Tainui blanched - he wasn't going to make it. The shuttle wasn't equipped with any ship-to-ship weapons and he was still too close to the planet's gravitational well to activate the near-FTL drive. Swearing loudly, he fired the thrusters and threw the shuttle into a series of wild evasive maneuvers in an attempt to shake off the weapons lock to no avail. Something struck the shuttle a glancing blow, enough to temporarily overcome the artificial gravity and knock him to the floor. He grabbed at the control console again for support, when suddenly there was a large explosion and everything went dark.
* * *
Loader looked up from his control console when the fleet-leader stormed onto the bridge and made a bee-line for him with an unpleasant grimace on his face. He had enjoyed the relative quiet while the cranky warrior had been away on the surface doing Ancestors only knows what and cringed inwardly at his return. It did not look as if things had gone well down there he guessed, judging by the expression on the warrior's face. "Take us out past the orbit of the farthest moon. Once there start the pre-launch procedures for the anti-matter weapons. Ensure the entire fleet is at minimum safe distance." "As you command," Loader relaxed slightly when Deep-Cut turned and lumbered over to his own command console, a little surprised that the fleet-leader hadn't yelled at him or made any further snide comments about his skills. The massive Capital ship powered up its sub-light engines and began to climb from the orbit of New Home. The rest of the somewhat diminished fleet swarmed around the larger ship like a school of attendant fish around a larger predator. It only took a couple of hours for the fleet to maneuver into a position far enough from the planet to satisfy Deep-Cut's requirements. "Fleet status, hrrr?" "Fleet reports they are all at minimum safe distance," Loader carefully double-checked the readings before answering. "Anti-matter weapons status, hrrr?" "One minute remains until deployment readiness." On the external hull of the Capital ship, large hatches were slowly drawing back, exposing several deep ports leading deep inside the vessel. Gantries carrying the weapon guide-rails slid out of recesses inside each of the ports with a heavy vibration that could be dimly felt on the bridge, extending out from the hull as the hatches latched into place. "20 seconds till deployment readiness - Hrrr! Fleet-leader, sensors detect an anomaly approaching the fleet on an intercept vector." Deep-Cut narrowed his eyes suspiciously as he glared at the chief engineer. "What type of anomaly, hrrr?" "I am uncertain, however the object is on a collision course at point eight-nine light-speed!" Although their physiology did not allow for it, Deep-Cut did a passable imitation of looking like the blood had suddenly drained from his face... "Evasive maneuvers! Full power to the shield-emitters and activate all backup emitters! For the revered Ancestor's sake, instruct the fleet to intercept it!" The fleet-leader realized that whatever the anomaly was, it had his chief engineer seriously worried. "Fire everything we have at it and maneuver something between us and whatever that thing is, immediately!" Ponderously, the massive Capital ship began to turn from the path of the anomaly, colliding with several battleships and frigates that failed to react fast enough to relocate out of the way. Their shields glowed ugly colors as they overloaded. There was a small flare of light as a fast-attack frigate was crushed between the Capital ship's shields and a slow-moving battleship, expanding clouds of gas and debris spiraled into space from the wrecked smaller ship when the two larger vessels finally separated. In what looked like a slow-motiona ballet, sSeveral other vessels began to shift their positions and fire their weapons in an attempt to block or destroy the approaching object... but they were far too slow. The approaching anomaly was seemingly impervious to the weapons being fired at it; a seriously powerful space-time distortion surrounded whatever it was, rendering the weapons completely ineffective. On the bridge of the Capital ship, Loader lurched back from his control console with a twisted expression on his face and began laughing. The other Vanguard on the bridge regarded him with wide eyed alarm, fully expecting the fleet-leader to eviscerate the impertinent engineer. Deep-Cut, however, stared straight into the engineer's eyes and recognized what he saw there.
Inevitability.
Death.
"Fleet-leader, go rut yourself you arrogant piece of rank-beast shit! You rutting mental deficient..." Loader could barely squeeze out the string of expletives he was laughing so hard. The last thing the fleet-leader saw was tears of hysterical laughter pouring down the sneering face of his chief engineer while he was insulted and degraded by everything the younger Vanguard could think of in the remaining few seconds of his life...
* * *
Disoriented, Tainui unsteadily reached out in the darkness to try and locate the snooze button on the alarm clock going off beside his bed. At any moment he expected one of his young cousins to come sprinting into the room and jump all over the bed, yelling at him to get up. From the smell of things someone had burned the toast as well. He'd just have to hit the bakery on the way into work and pick up a pie or something for breakfast instead. "Ugh, gotta lay off the booze," he muttered quietly in annoyance while his head throbbed, not helped by the jangling alarm. Opening his eyes he found himself lying on a metal floor in an unfamiliar room, filled with smoke, occasional sprays of sparks and several loud alarms blared from a console above him. "What the hell?" Oh._ It all rushed back to him in a deluge of adrenaline-fueled horror. Beds, alarm clocks, cousins and toast were many light years away and belonged to a part of his life that no longer existed. Cradling a hand to his still-throbbing head, it came away sticky with blood. Groggily he pulled himself up level with the console and stared at it until the display screens swam slowly back into focus. Vaguely recognizing the signs of a concussion, he wiped at the trail of blood that dripped down his face before struggling to attempt to make sense of anything. _'First things first,' he thought to himself as he silenced the alarms one at a time. Coughing from the smoke, he struggled to his feet and surveyed the damage but decided that it would probably be easier to catalogue the number of things that were working, as it was a much shorter list than the things that_weren't._ Since he wasn't floating around the artificial gravity was still operational, which meant that at least one of the main singularity-generators was still working. 'This is good, chalk one up for good ol' Vanguard engineering,' he smiled slightly, the terror subsiding. Emergency power was still operational as was, surprisingly to him given the rest of the state of the ship, the near-FTL drive which was crucial to his mission. The fact that he was still in one piece meant that the Original Home frigate had not finished the job it began, which was a worrying development. With rising panic he looked out the viewport expecting to see the still-molten remnants of New Home glare balefully at him from the inky blackness. Instead, all he saw was the surface of one of the two moons moving past the viewport while the battered shuttle slowly tumbled in space. Holding his breath for a few seconds, the moon rotated out of view replaced by the vast bulk of a pristine New Home that floated serenely in space. He let out his breath in a rush and grinned stupidly at the sight before returning his attention to the mission. "Alright bro, let's assess," he muttered while his fingers flew lightly across the holographic controls. Carefully firing some of the small maneuvering thrusters, he stopped the gentle tumble of the shuttle and adjusted the orientation so it was facing toward New Home. The only sensors working were those from the long-range array - the short-range array was fried which meant he was effectively blind to anything in nearby space. Brushing aside some debris off the sensor display panel he saw that the enemy fleet was on the far side of the planet and leaving orbit in one hell of a hurry. A baleful red alarm indicator blinked at him urgently from the console and, to Tainui's dismay, he saw it was the life-support system. It was offline and had been for some time. Looking around the cabin he realized that was probably why there was still a considerable amount of smoke in the air. Remembering back to the movie Apollo 13, he recalled that the cabin probably still held a few hours worth of breathable air until the Carbon Dioxide built up to toxic levels. Thankfully, the hull had not been breached in the attack, otherwise he would have been long dead. He shuffled on unsteady feet over the twisted deck-plates to a jury-rigged console on the far side of the cockpit where the controls for the weapon had been set up. Almost crying with relief he saw that the weapon was still functional, although not operational at full capacity if various flashing holographic alarm indicators were correct. One or more of the auxiliary singularity-generators the shuttle had been fitted with to power the weapon was offline. "Alright ol' girl, we may be down but we ain't out," he muttered with a big grin on his face, patting the console affectionately before weaving his way back to the main controls. While he went over his checklist he realized he hadn't checked the status of the escape-pod that had been constructed in what was normally the hibernation chamber of the shuttle. The console responsible for those systems was dark and unresponsive, obviously damaged in the attack. But this wasn't too big a problem because the pod had been rigged with manual controls as well. Picking his way across the buckled deck plating to the ex-hibernation chamber while using the walls for support, Tainui realized just how close he had come to death. Again. Must stop making a habit of that, he chuckled to himself. His amusement and relief was short lived, however, when he entered the room and saw the still-smoldering pod, obviously the source of most of the smoke inside the shuttle. During the attack something must have shorted and caught fire in the oxygen-rich environment inside the pod because the hatch was half open, heat-warped and buckled. "Oh no no no, don't you dare! Don't you fucking dare!" Disregarding his unsteadiness, he sprinted the few steps to the pod and desperately tried to close the small hatch, noticing that the remains of the pod's internal controls were charred and reduced to useless, blackened wreckage. The hatch refused to budge, the bearings had been fused in the intense but short-lived blaze. The bottom had suddenly dropped out of his world and his stomach clenched violently. A sudden and intense nausea stabbed through his stomach, forcing him to his knees, hands outstretched to support him while he vomited the remains of his last meal onto the decking. Grunting, he dry heaved a few more times before slowly sitting upright and wiped at his mouth with the back of his hands. Pale and shaking he stood up on unsteady feet and stumbled back to the cockpit area. After hunting around for several moments he located his backpack jammed underneath an exposed conduit and rifled through it. Spilling the contents out all over the decking, he finally fished out a water canister. Rinsing out his mouth he spat onto the decking before taking a few deep swallows. Common-sense told him he only had one option open to him now, but despite this he still clung to the faint hope that he had missed some avenue, some opportunity that would present itself to him. Without the escape-pod he couldn't abandon the shuttle once it was on its run. Without the sub-light engines he couldn't land or fly the shuttle anywhere useful. If the mission failed there wouldn't be anywhere to land anyway. There were no rescue ships out there waiting to save him, either. Life support was non-operational and he did not have the means to go about repairing it anyway as the shuttle had been completely stripped out for its mission and was incapable of providing any sort of long-term survival options. Communications were non-operational, even if he wanted to call for help. That just left completing the mission, which meant he was going to die. Faced with this, the urge to curl up underneath the console and cry himself into a catatonic stupor was almost overwhelming. Slumping to the deck, he held the water canister in shaking hands and looked despondently around him, seeking inspiration. Inspiration which came in the form of a small number of pictures he'd asked Attacks-First to print out for him off his digicam, lying together on the deck among a few other scattered items from his backpack. His breath caught in his throat when he thought about Attacks-First back on New Home. Tainui shook his head slightly, wondering if the young engineer was even still alive. Over the past couple of years their relationship had become something more than just friendship. There had been quite a few occasions of physical intimacy between the two of them but he sensed the Vanguard had been holding back a bit as if waiting for some cue from him. Perhaps he'd been waiting for a declaration of love, maybe? Reaching over he picked the pictures up and stared at them closely. The first was of Attacks-First standing beside the first singularity-mine that had rolled off the production assembly line, mugging for the camera. The second was of Andrej, lying on his stomach asleep on one of the hibernation chamber couches just after leaving Earth space, one arm hanging down and resting on the decking. He was naked in the picture but with the dim lighting all you could see were a few subtle curves lit by what little light had come in through the open hatch when the picture was taken. Although Andrej had huffed and puffed loudly when he discovered the image on the camera at the time, Tainui knew that he had secretly quite liked it as well. Bringing the photo up to his lips he held it there for a few moments, a sad, strange little smile on his face. It was the last picture however that made him stop and consider. A copy of the picture that he had placed on Andrej's cairn alongside the letter he wrote a few years back, probably long since shredded by snow and wind. Two-Talon and Hunts-In-Grass, cheek to cheek with their eyes closed, an expression of love and devotion evident despite their craggy, vaguely reptilian features. His new family. But not for much longer unless he stopped being such a pussy and made the necessary hard decisions. Pulling himself to his feet, he stood in front of the control console and stuck the three photos into a tight gap in the console hard up against the bottom of the viewport where he could easily see them while he worked. "Let's...let's just do this quickly before we lose our nerve, eh Hori?" Quietly muttering aloud to himself felt like it alleviated the loneliness a little while he programmed in a short near-FTL hop to get them as far away from New Home's gravity well as he could. Under normal circumstances, operating the near-FTL drive so close to even a small planet was a recipe for disaster, however he no longer had any other options open to him. Holding onto the console for support he activated the controls and was rewarded by a deep, almost subliminal rumbling when the near-FTL drive spun up. Instead of the regular gentle but insistent acceleration that was normally produced, there was a savage lurch that made the already stressed hull of the shuttle groan alarmingly, accompanied by a noticeable shuddering as it picked up speed. Instead of gently surfing along the small distortion of space-time generated by the drive, the distortion was quite choppy and rough. When the shuddering increased to something that threatened to rattle his brains right out of his head, he understood why the Vanguard didn't use their high-tech gravity propulsion drives close to any planets or moons. Several bone-shaking minutes later, the shuttle had risen up and away from New Home and its two moons, enough so, that when Tainui cut the engine the planet was little more than a tiny dun-colored ball with no visible features. Long range scans showed that the fleet had settled into an orbit around the third planet out from the New Home sun and were holding position. Time was running out. Using the small maneuvering thrusters in conjunction with the long-range sensors, he lined the shuttle up roughly with where the Capital ship was. Tapping out a few rough calculations he figured the intercept time was going to be no more than about three minutes once the shuttle reached its maximum velocity. He was going to have to be right on the money with activating the Taniwha's secret weapon. He powered on the near-FTL drive again. Thankfully, this far out the vibrations were hardly noticeable, but that would soon change when he arrived near the planet the fleet was now orbiting. It would make things rather interesting in the last few moments. Once satisfied that they were on course, Tainui quickly checked the weapon console and discovered, to his surprise, that the auxiliary singularity-generator was back online and functioning properly - the rough jarring ride must have knocked something back into alignment. Starting to feel somewhat light-headed, he wondered if it was the concussion or the Carbon Dioxide catching up with him... Staggering back to the control console as the vibrations from the near-FTL drive began to get worse, he clung to the cool metal and stared out through the viewport at the small, round shape of the third planet bcoming larger by the second although somewhat distorted by his increasing velocity. With a great deal of sadness he wondered if his loved ones were still alive and thinking about him; the medic and warrior and the complicated young engineer who had become his friend and lover. He reluctantly dragged his attention back to this last mission and routed the weapons control through to the main console so he wouldn't need to abandon the main controls when the time came. The long-range sensors, not designed for such precision, close-range work were now struggling to lock on to the rapidly approaching Capital ship, so Tainui shut them down and decided to pilot them in by sight alone. He set the computer to notify him ten seconds before impact so he could activate the weapon for optimal detonation, then hung on to the console while the shuttle rattled violently around him, setting his teeth on edge. He made a minor course correction and watched as the stars blurred and streaked through the viewport, unsure whether the distortion was caused by the shuttle's velocity, or the tears spilling over from his eyes. He was right on target. When the console chimed, his heart lurched. This was it, then; no going back, no last-minute reprieves and no happy endings - for him. But at least his new family would now have a fighting chance, this time he was keeping his promise to protect them... He swallowed before activating the weapon and lowered his gaze from the viewport to the three photos he had stuck on the top of the main control console. "I love you," he whispered, unheard over the scream of the shuttle as it began to shake apart and the shrieking whine of the singularity-generators rapidly overloading while they birthed their deadly offspring. He barely noticed the crushing pull of the super-massive singularity being created in the specially modified chamber at the front of the shuttle, several magnitudes greater in mass than the singularities normally used in Vanguard generators. Tainui closed his eyes. Milliseconds before impact the unstable singularity, while smaller than a Vanguard's closed fist but weighing more than a large planet and traveling at a relativistic velocity, had cannibalized the small shuttle and was hungry for more. The Capital ship was more and the singularity gorged itself to bursting, not even slowing when it sailed through the vessel's powerful shields as if they had never existed. Gravitational waves strong enough to rend space-time itself vaporized the massive vessel and the smaller ships around it into super-heated plasma as it blasted through. The additional energy released by the Capital ship's anti-matter weapons detonating was sufficient to destabilize the artificially created singularity enough to cause it to unravel, unleashing the energy of a small sun in a titanic explosion. Invisible but intense gravitational shock-waves spread out, passing at the speed of light through the planets orbiting the massive reddish sun which made them resonate to a tune as old as the universe itself, spreading out into space in an ever expanding sphere...
IV Epilogue
Occasional flakes of snow went sailing through the air when an icy wind blew over the two mounds of rocks on a small plateau overlooking an expansive, brown plain far below. Glacier-fed rivers wound like small blue ribbons across the expanse, disappearing into the haze. The shattered remains of a crashed cargo shuttle were almost unrecognizable, slowly succumbing to the harsh elements as it rested beside the two cairns. Two elderly Vanguard stood close beside each other in front of the cairns, each lost in his own thoughts. The Iridium rings, adorning a horn on each of their heads, shimmered in the pale red light from the otherwise unremarkable sun. Turning to face each other, they shared an understanding glance, before joining hands and walking back to the small scout ship resting near the edge of the plateau. Shortly after, it lifted off and was soon lost to sight. Between the two mounds and mostly covered by snow, lay a small Nickel-Iron meteorite that had been neatly cut in half, with the cut face polished smooth. Some words had been inscribed into the now tarnished surface. Although usually covered in snow, the writing was now exposed and visible, the snow having been brushed aside by shaking talons. Four names had been inscribed into the dull metal in human English; Tainui Rauwhero, Andrej Hannan, Tusker and Attacks-First. Beneath the three names was an ancient Vanguard glyph with a simple meaning. Family The Cold Wind blew...