7th post
FOB: Reverence, Western Kyber Mountains,
The Hallowed Scar, Ilum (Spring of 877 ABY)
<"This is Wardog. I need an immediate emergency evacuation on Erskine's position.">
'Aaaaw'right, Dan. Lets stand by noo, I'm no wantin' any hangin' about, an' definitely no here of all places.... Sad day it could be by the end, but it's no stoppin' oor lot from leavin a nasty mark on the GADF. Not by any means.'
The MPs were on hand to help out in any way they could, and in this situation, full Highlander commitment to sallying and counterattacking orders left none available but the MPs to respond to the call for a Medevac. Fortunately for all manning their defensive and offensive stations, Dakari's contingent were more than willing to step up for the sake of the others, lurching into action almost as soon as the first chunk of transmitted comm-chatter was patched through, reaching for medical supplies and beacon-flairs in the body bag-avoiding hopes the Lord-Regent was still alive and breathing by the time they arrived.
'Fair play, Randall. That bein' said an'aw, seems only fittin' we gie 'em the hornet's nest treatment.... Here, hipflask!'
<"And one more thing. A warning to his officers, his superiors, the ISB listening to this channel, everyone. If he gets in the turret of a tank, if he is allowed into a command tent, if he is allowed to even look at a map… I'll karkin' butcher every single person in this legion, this kriffin' army… I'll kill you all.">
A stern warning, from a woman's voice wracked hoarse with grief.
'Good catch, sir! Now go drink up an' get some work put in! We're aw sittin' ready t'go anyways!'
A tone that was known to many Highlanders among the remaining defenders of
FOB: Reverence, a tone heard on the voices of many a wife or daughter on Galidraan III in harsher, desperate times. Though it certainly boggled more than a few minds to hear such a warning from an enemy, as if it was enough to fight everyone subordinate to Lord Erskine, but with no mention of deathly intentions towards the old Woad, it seemed like the woman was subtly stating aversion to facing Barran in combat. Whether it had been avoidance of a first or another fight, none could say, and none could say what happened on Tellan Lake either; but what they all knew for certain in these moments, like night follows day, was the fact they were all feeling just as remorseful as she was.
'FOR ERSKINE!!!!'
<"Charlie Three-Four, this is McBain! Worry not, for the Empire endures - always! We've got your back, an' with your line spread well, first shots can be the first to double back to the rallying-point.... We see the Sabretooth markings, the 313th are aw'right with us, but we also know you've been taught to snipe wae yer smoothbores - so show us what yer made of an' try t'keep up!">
<"Charlie Three-Four, this is McKidd! I'm not joining the counteroffensive, but I can guarantee you our Gallowglass is right on every front.... Trust in the Highlanders, an' the Highlanders will trust in the 313th tankers! Guardian One out!">
<"We're here now, Three-Four.... Lets make some fething history, Br'er! Cairn Two out!">
'FOR ERSKINE!!!!'
Slapping the Durasteel inner-lining of the Cataphract's slide-door, Sergeant-Major Morris roared
,'THATS US, LADS!!!! STAND TO, STAAAAAND TO!!!! OUR TARGET-ZONES ARE AW'READY PICKED OUT - AW WE NEED NOW IS EYES ON THE NORTHERN FRONT!!!!', at the top his lungs to the others as he slid into his seat by the map-plinth and comm-link unit, ready to unleash mayhem in a way that only Woads and Tuaths had inflicted on their foes for the sake of the Empire. A time-honoured tradition among the Goidelic soldiering caste, and the Highlanders were on the verge of beating the Carracks to the chase, ready to be the third and last great tribe to achieve greatness this way, ready to shine as the Stormchaser and the Kellas had before them.
'Granting digital-permissions preemptively, Dan.... Commence the symphony, Br'er!'
Every relevant zone of interest had been marked with a little grey skull on the map-projections, all confirmed to either be clear via abandonment or secure enough to handle stray impacts in the attack, and with further intel-gathering efforts confirming that most (if not - all) of these abandoned areas had since been taken and occupied by GADF contingents consolidating their foothold on the region. Everything they wanted to see in the reports was there for the Highlanders, everything in their reports facilitated and acquitted their intent to take a fight to the enemy that would hold up in any Court Martial tribunal, and especially in a military court-system as unforgiving as Serenno's Judiciary Committee; so all that remained was their act of all-out retribution, and with the raid on the returning armoured column of Sabretooth-Troopers considered, Casus Belli was firmly and justifiably theirs to wield on that day of days.
There was no doubt that Bramber's third and final artillery barrage had incited a stir-craziness in all the tank-crews already, especially in seeing that it was another application of Predator missile, so the first standby confirmations were all sounded off at rapid pace, with the others following close behind to make it all the easier for Morris as he readied up all the appropriate comm-link channels. And yet, much to McBain's surprise, his anxiousness, his apprehension, all of his negative emotion would evaporate more quickly with every proverbial inch of ground they passed on their way to the point of no-return, vanishing by the time Morris stood up in his seat to nod his intent to get the action underway - only daring to sit down again as soon as he saw the Major returning the nod in kind.
<"ALL MARKED UNITS - LOAD H.E.I. SHELLS!!!! CHECK ZONES, CHECK ZONES!!!! STAND BY.... AW'RIGHT, HERE WE GO!!!! WEAPONS FREE; FIRE, FIRE, FIRE!!!!">
Commencing in the blink of an eye, and as if by a flash, the entire mountain-ridgeline they were using as high-ground then lit up the skies around them with the life of Imperial firepower, unleashing the Cataphracts' wall of heavy-hitting pressure on positions that were all marked as abandoned by the survivors of the GA's south-westward push. A salvo unlike any they had ever known before, another for the ages but the only one for the ages they had ever experienced before that day, and as the Gallowglass looked out through the front viewports, the view of snowfall and distant high-explosive impacts held a bone-chilling majesty that felt quite enthralling to behold.
<"ALL MARKED UNITS - READY TO FIRE AT WILL!!!! CARBONITE CAUTIONS NEGATED!!!! REASON: WEATHER ASSISTANCE!!!! STAND BY.... Okay, lads. Here's the difficult part.... I'll need you to unload ALL your H.E.I. shells, bug out as soon as that last shell is fired, form up wide at the Rallying-Point an' await further orders! Simple.... WEAPONS FREE; FIRE - AT - WILL!!!!">
'Here we-here we, baiz! GET STUCK IN AMONGST IT!!!!'
If the opening barrage had been considered wild before, then the following onslaught would have been assumed far beyond the realms of excessive, but there weren't very many working atop the mountaintops who cared very much for that by then, especially not with so many either too busy working at peak focused capacity or too enamoured by the strange, deathly beauty of the destruction they were inflicting at the time. The Highlanders, 313th, Bramber Division and the MPs all had armoured elements contributing to the shelling efforts, and in the process of noting how wide the fire-dispersal was, the panoramic view of the entire attack became all the more terrifyingly beautiful as the destruction continued, made all the more fiery in it's beauty by the larger explosions lighting up the clouds and the snowfall in the most eye-catching of visual displays.
'OOOOO YA KARKER, SUR!!!! MUST BE SAID - I PITY THE UNFORTUNATE MARINES WHO CHOSE T'PILLAGE OOR ARMOURIES!!!!'
McBain's part had been played, the rest of the risky play for glory rested firmly in the hands of the other tank crews beyond that point, and in all the fanfare, all the Gallowglass and his favourite tank-commander could do was sit back and enjoy the show as the thrill-ride transpired around them. Some of the tanks had already peeled off to descend the slopes behind them, making their escape to the rallying-point with Morris' crew not far behind them, setting the next phase of the thrill-ride into motion; and in the process, setting into motion a turn of events that would continually test the Highland Brotherhood for all it was worth at any and all given times, perpetually goading the Druid's clique into the most daring feats henceforth, much like it had been and still was for their former compatriots.
'THATS US, SAUCHIE!!!! PUNCH REVERSE AN' GET US THE FETH OUT O' SIGHT!!!!'
Those highly-coveted, colossal odds against which the Highlanders wanted so badly to test their merit. Galidraan's formula for glory in it's truest, purest form.
'ON IT!!!! BETTER HAUD ONTO SOMETHING BY THE WAY!!!!.... YAAAAAAALDYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!!!!'
BORN OF BRIGHT STARS I: SURVIVING FORMER ALLIES - PART 9
Tellan Lake, The Kyber Range Mountains,
5km West of the Hallowed Scar, Ilum (Early-Spring of 877 ABY)
Good to see those eyes dry again. That red glow is cleaner, clearer now too.
It would seem the worlds beyond our own have much to teach us, and perhaps even more. Interesting....
Quite interesting indeed.
Her transmission to the Imperials had revealed more about the previously-distraught warrior woman, and in the moment he saw her rising from the snow-covered ground, the will to continue like before was there to be seen also. No trembling, no shudders to incite concern or doubt in the entity, nothing but the fire of glowing, warlike crimson; and though her voice was no doubt a little hoarse from the previous despair of grief, this armoured woman still found ease in holding to her resilient strength as she rose proudly from the bloodied snows below.
'Stay out of trouble, Erskine.'
With one last moment to herself, the warrior woman looked on the unconscious, bloodied, snow-covered body of the Lord-Regent before turning to look into the entity's eyes for the last time that, though in the short few moments preceding their silent farewells, the glowing pairs of blues and reds both seemed to understand there was a likely chance they would cross paths again someday. Then, and wasting no time in doing so, the T-Visor helmet was reunited with it's head once more, and when the armoured warrior nodded, a reserved bow was given in kindly, silent reply, just in time for the flashy jetpack-assisted exit. Watching as she rose up into the stormy skies above, lifting his gaze as his eyes followed the little jet-streams, slowly growing smaller until the blizzards completely obscured her from view, it was only then that the entity realised how glad he was to have offered life or death on behalf of his gods.
Yet relieved to even greater extents that the grief-struck warrior accepted his offer.
However, though her intentions towards the Lord-Regent were of sincere, heartfelt reverence, her threats to the Empire's most powerful entities had regardless marked her as an enemy, and in this harsh truth, the entity knew his new acquaintance was better off making herself scarce whilst the window of opportunity was still open for her escape. Leaving the servant of the gods alone with the man she so desperately wished to see alive again, with no other option but to pray that the old Woad would leave his fighting days behind him as she made for the nearest working starship, the warrior would no doubt feel the sting of letting the entity handle the Lord Erskine matter in her absence, but Barran was alive - and that was more than enough to keep the armoured warrior from turning back.
Good, I like that.... After all, to feebly accept one's fate is boring.
Unimaginative to wildly repulsive extremes.
Power doth not reside there, not for a true warrior.
Lifting the Lord-Regent from the bloody ground that was his deathbed before, the servant of the gods quickly, though carefully made his way east, using his senses to single out any and all non-combative presences near the Highlanders' outpost. Easily done, despite the weather and the conscious and constant attempts to keep from harming the old man in his arms, and when he eventually drew within sight of the approaching Imperials, the decision to sleep once more had come to the entity almost too quickly this time. And when he lifted the Druid-Mask to Lord Michael's face, no other thoughts lingered on remaining in the waking realms a little longer, for everything the gods' servant had set out to achieve had been done, and the morbidity of the occasion was certainly not to a warlike entity's liking.
See you soon, Michael.... After all, the War-Paint always leaves your sort begging for more.
As Lord Erskine was placed carefully on the ground, turned on his and put into the recovery position, the entity made way for Lord Michael's return to consciousness, letting the Wanderer wade out from within his standing stupor as the gods brought their servant back to his sacred state of perpetual dreaming sleep. The mask and paint had served their purpose, as did the entity, and when the Wanderer pulled the mask off to see a little better, he felt satisfied that the spur of the moment decision saved a life at least.
Though he wished very much to utilise these powers to take life instead, it was enough to know at least some sort of good came of it.
'Lord Barran, what is your status? Are you in need of medical aid, and what's the situation?'
Sighing half-dejectedly, Barran let the other MPs take his father to safety as he begrudgingly fell in lockstep with Tarkinist debrief policy, though still remaining polite and cordial enough when he replied
,'Dakari, its good to see you again, but I'm declaring active status this time sadly.... I'm still very much uninjured, which means I best stay on the clock until ordered otherwise. Sit-Rep is simple too, the Lord-Regent is in stable condition for now but requires immediate triage and accompanying surgeries. Sorry I can't be of more help to you in the specifics, its just that I genuinely don't know.', sighing again but with gladness that his requirements had been met in sight of the MPs. Lord Erskine was safe and in good hands, and Lord Michael was easy to find, and in his priorities sending him out westward again, the painted Druid put his mask back on, stood to attention, saluted and turned to leave.
'If you have further questions, you know where I live. But enough with that, I'd rather thank you for helping instead - hopefully we'll get to reward that someday..... Until next time, stay wise an' stay safe.'
From there, it seemed like the Wanderer's legs would do all the thinking for him, with no choice but to wave his brief and amiable farewell, afforded only a moment to look to the MPs over his shoulder as the sprint westward led Lord Michael back along the same snaking trail of boot-prints he had only just created in the other direction; all the while leading Barran right back to where the entity found his father, still completely unaware of what really transpired on or near Tellan Lake, though understanding almost immediately as soon as he saw all the blood. The old man had certainly dealt with something far worse than sudden cardiac arrest in his brief demise, and in the horrified realisation, the second son realised exactly how lucky his father had been.
Even with the snowfall heavy enough to cover most of it, there was enough pink discoloration in the covered area to see how lucky Lord Erskine had been, and how unlikely it would be that the Lord-Regent would be blessed twice with this sort of luck.
EXIT THREAD
Julius Sedaire
Castor E-196
