Hope from Despair

**Hope From Despair**

### The Fleet

The bridge of the Blazing Star Coalition flagship, *Five Elements*, was a scene of discipline as the fleet achieved high orbit. The Air Caste were going about their duties as efficiently as was expected. The ship-wide alarum signalling *with diligence, ready to serve* had just started sounding. The caste council chamber contained Commander Bravesword and Aun'Yan who were both joined by Kor'el Fal'shia Rais, one of the vessel's senior officers, who was manipulating the tactical holographic projector.

'Your eminence, high altitude drone telemetry has confirmed our initial sensor sweeps: there are survivors. Dos'van City has been invaded by necrons; its population is at risk. The colony's fire caste fight and die valiantly but they are running out of places to retreat to.'

Aun'Yan's face remained neutral. While he was inwardly relieved the coalition had arrived in time, the people were not safe yet. As the magnification increased by a factor of 100x, individual figures could be spotted. From the right came regular light blue beads which leapt towards the advancing horde on the left who occasionally answered with arcs of vibrant green light. There were hundreds of necrons marching in the fire warriors' direction. An explosion flashed just off-screen at the top, and the drone panned upwards. A larger construct was striding towards a park on tripod legs. Every so often it would target and destroy another building while what appeared to be necron skimmers darted between its legs to outflank and destroy Piranhas and Devilfish transports. Now and again, a semi-circular aircraft would appear on approach to the city but the defence AI were fully active and coordinated defence cannon volleys to destroy these before they could get into range.

The ethereal looked to the coalition commander. 'Shas'O Shamasa, you may begin operations. Deploy as you see fit to save the defenceless.'

Bravesword saluted, a gesture exaggerated by the Coldstar battlesuit she was wearing. She turned and began striding to the hangar, relaying tactical data to her subordinates who were ready to deploy.

'Shas'el Lorma, deploy Crisis and Broadside battlesuits to deliver *mont'ka* strike at these coordinates. Shas'o Uvasha, land pathfinders with Ghost Keel support on the southern approaches and prepare a *kauyon*. Send elements to reconnoitre and secure the airfield north of the city.'

Acknowledgements came from both commanders.

### Orbit

As the Manta transport *Night-Long Patience* approached the atmosphere, Bravesword finalised deployment coordinates of elite battlesuit teams. These would drop from high-altitude to secure critical locations such as the Coalition Centre and civilian clusters. Orca dropships following in the Manta's wake would deploy pathfinder and fire warrior teams (or *la'rua*) to secure the colony's spaceport. Her subordinate commanders, o'Uvasha and el'Lorma, were coordinating their own cadres' (or *kau'ui*) deployments. Once the rumbling of re-entry ceased, muted clangs sounded as the deployment hatches on the manta's underside swung open and battlesuits fell into the clouds below. As she experienced a moment's vertigo before her suit's inertial dampeners kicked in, an alert chimed in o'Shamasa's ear indicating a new connection to the local battlenet was available. As her suit's AI established the link, o'Shamasa winced as the overlapping audio told a grizzly tale.

*"They won't stay down! Why won't they die?!"
"Keep firing! Keep firing!"
"They are everywhere!"
"THEY KILLED AUN'EL! WHAT DO WE DO?!"
"NOBLE ETHEREAL, NOOOOO!"
"We must fall back now!"
"WE CAN'T LEAVE AUN'EL HERE!"
"AAAA-"
"He's already gone..."
"WE HAVE LOST ALL!"
"MAKE THEM PAY!!"
"Retr-AUGH!!"
"RECOVER THE ETHEREAL!"
"THEY ARE EVERYWHERE! THEY'RE COMING THROUGH THE WALLS!!*

O'Shamasa shut off the audio with a grimace. Things couldn't have sounded worse. She activated the channel to specific battlesuit teams.
"This is Commander Bravesword. You have revised deployment coordinates. Adjust trajectories immediately."

### The City

As the battered and beleaguered survivors of the latest defeat reached Unity spaceport, shas'o K'yen struggled with his grief. So few had returned. He had led those under his command to slaughter. As the infantry staggered through the lines, a lone Piranha hovered into view. It was teeming with fire warriors and the pilot had diverted energy from weapons to the craft's engines. It eventually reached the tidewall barriers manned by new fire warrior teams, passing overhead before setting down with a thud that spoke of an over-taxed anti-grav unit. Those riding it dismounted, most were met by orderlies who helped them to a nearby medical centre.

He, shas'o K'yen, had failed them. Every major engagement with the necrons had been a defeat. Many of Dos'van's most elite fire caste were dead - including most of those skilled enough to pilot a crisis battlesuit. But the losses the fire caste had suffered thus far paled in comparison to the one that he cradled in his arms. The commander could hardly bring himself to lower his suit's head to gaze on the lifeless body of Aun'Xi. He knew that if he opened the canopy and saw the ethereal with his own eyes he would break down and cry. K'yen forced his sorrow deep within, burying it beneath hatred for these murderous machines; hatred that burned fierce as fire within him. But it was tempered by a growing sense of despair. K'yen could feel the weight of his failures pressing down upon him. There would be no more honour for him. If he was to be remembered at all, it would only be as a disappointment: a lesson to future leaders of the tau military in how not to mess up. Protecting the evacuating civilians was the bare minimum he could do now.

Somewhere in the clouds above was a thunderclap. A product of the ongoing aerial battle, no doubt. At least the air caste were doing well - aided by the city's anti-air defences which were being slowly rolled back by the necron advance.

A number of earth caste approached with drones. Four of them bore a stretcher and a blanket. As the drones began scanning the commander's heavily damaged battlesuit, the four bowed deeply.
"Shas'o Tash'var K'yen, please allow us to remove Aun'el's body for burial."
K'yen's suit looked down at them, then the ethereal. 'Fools, we shall all be buried here if the necrons take the spaceport', thought the commander. But he kept his silence as he lowered Aun'Xi onto the stretcher, a task made more difficult by the damage his suit had sustained. The earth caste covered the corpse reverently with the blanket and carried it away. Others stayed, working with the drones to repair the battlesuit as quickly as possible.

Just as they finished, a phalanx of necron warriors clanked into view - marching lockstep in eerie silence. The defenders had no pathfinders left, so they used marker drones and the one markerlight given to each team's *shas'ui* for positional data. The strike teams opened up on the constructs which fell well out of range of their own weapons. As many began to reassemble and regain their feet, the fire teams continued their punishment until there was no sign of movement. To the west, a building exploded and collapsed. Through the smoking rubble strode one of the large necron gun tripods. Then another. And another. A flash of viridian lightning and a nearby structure exploded, showering the defence line with debris. Many of the fire warriors ducked, though K'yen did not. Just as the commander was about to order his fire teams to abandon their forward positions there was a bright flash and the first doomstalker exploded, quickly followed by the second. A third and fourth flash brought the third one crashing down almost at the same time. As the walkers crashed down, a new comms link chimed in his ear.

*"This is Shas'o T'au Shamasa, to all Dos'van forces. Stand fast - help has arrived. We will take back this world for the Greater Good."*

All around the beleaguered commander there was a roar of jets as four broadside suits, two to a flank, and one crisis suit team after another touched down all around him, accompanied by three commanders - all bearing the creamy ochre of T'au Sept.

Behind them, Orcas touched down, disgorging similarly-coloured teams of fire warriors and pathfinders who rushed forward to fill empty sections of the line. As they emptied their cargo, the pilots communicated with the flight tower and began authorising civilian boardings. Numerous earth and water caste citizens hastened to the embarkation ramps, shepherded by fire warriors to prevent a crush.

The city's defenders cheered. Perhaps their sacrifice would mean something more than empty defiance after all. Or perhaps they might just survive.