Tales of the Amber Vipers Chapter 152
The Gue'ron'sha had played right into Alohvar's hands. The commander could see them in the killing ground, exposed and vulnerable. His Crisis Suit's sensors tallied numbers and firepower but he needed not such minutiae. Experience told him that the trap had worked to perfection. Inside his cockpit lips drew back over his teeth in anticipation of the imminent killing.
As expected the Gue'ron'sha had gone mad at the sight of Gue'vesa manning the perimeter. They had charged headlong into the fray, heedless of risk or wider strategy. He had known they would attack, though he had not known from what direction. Yet he had to admit their attack boasted swiftness and ferocity he had not expected, this breed favoured speed over the disgusting resilience of the D'eth Gurd. They had annihilated all the Gue'vesa on the southern flank and positioned themselves to sweep into the base beyond, but it was a victory of Alohvar's design.
He swept the battleground and he saw the humans were trapped. His repositioning of the Tidewalls had not been arbitrary, but a cunning snare to draw them in. Now the Gue'ron'sha were hemmed in on two sides, with an extended killing ground behind and lines of Tau guns to the fore. Their only hope of survival was to scatter into the buildings on either side, but Alohvar had positioned them in such a way that the nearest was fifty paces away. Under the gunsights of the Tau that may as well be on another planet. The Gue'ron'sha were trapped with no avenue of escape, a perfect Mont'ka.
Facing obliteration the humans did the one thing they could: they charged. Their leader raised a curved sword over his head and yelled a feral war cry and as one the mass charged. Their speed was phenomenal, their bulk astonishing and their weapons sharp. Hundreds of Gue'ron'sha, all barrelling right at his line. Yet Alohvar was not concerned, for the Tau were ready.
With a neural-command every Shas'La received the order to fire simultaneously. Lines of Fire Warriors discharged pulse rifles in one staggering volley, aided by the shorter ranged carbines of the Path Finders and the Skyray's built-in drones. Broadside suits braced their footing as the immense weight of their railguns came to bear, letting off shots that set the air on fire and left tracks of flame hanging. They added flurries of missiles, their arms losing warhead after warhead. The Crisis Suits added their fire, discharging plasma in torrents, Fusion fire, missiles and micro-explosives. As if that was not enough Alohvar levelled his Tri-cyclic ion blaster and swept the enemy line, releasing contemptuous death. All the Tau did, emptying their charge packs until they bleeped in depletion.
The barrage struck the first rank of adversaries and sliced right through. Ceramite armour proved ineffective when set against the Fire Caste and shots punched straight through, many burying themselves in the ranks behind. Gue'ron'sha fell to the ground in steaming pools of blood, their hearts stopped by the force of the blows. Holes one could push a fist through were blown into chests, heads were vaporised and explosions bloomed everywhere, throwing bodies aside in tattered rags. In one volley the Tau had decimated scores of foes, leaving the rest flopping upon the ground.
Against any other foe Alohvar could have expected such destruction to break their will, but these were Gue'ron'sha, they knew not the meaning of capitulation. Sure enough from their reeling masses arose a flurry of warriors with roaring jump packs. They shot into the sky, closing the distance with startling alacrity and they had timed it so the Fire warriors were reloading. Should they reach the line they would wreak terrible revenge, but Alohvar had anticipated such a move.
A neural-command signalled a concealed force and so leapt forth flurries of drones. The machine helpers of the Tau whooshed into combat, moving to intercept the flying enemy. The Gue'ron'sha saw them coming but it was too late to change course, they were committed to their trajectories. Still they fired their pistols in mid-leap, blowing several drones apart. In return pulse carbines struck three warriors from the sky and the rest of the drones slammed bodily into the survivors, sacrificing themselves in crashing impacts.
"The skies belong to the Tau!" Alohvar cried in contempt as the flying warriors crashed into the ground, short of their target and helpless to recover. Beyond the remaining enemy rallied, trying to regroup and finish their charge but the Tau would give them no such chance. Pulse rifles were ready and missiles reloaded as they prepared a second volley. The enemy leader yelled at his troops to rally but Alohvar knew it was the voice of hollow pride, they both knew it. Still the Gue'ron'sha would not die on their knees; they would struggle to rise until their last breath. But Alohvar cared not if they died on their knees or their feet, so long as they were dead.
He prepared to give the order to fire but then his sensors wailed in alarm. His sensor head rose slightly and he beheld the last thing he expected. A lone gunship, one of those gull-winged crafts the Skyray had chased off earlier was coming back at full throttle, racing to intervene. Smoke streamed from its right-wing and it dipped alarmingly to one side but through sheer grit the pilot held it true, racing to save his comrades. Alohvar's sensors blazed as it detected the weapons of the craft were armed, guns aimed and its missiles pointed right at the Tau.
"Take it down!" Alohavr screamed in alarm and from behind a quartet of missiles rose from the Skyray. The missiles were far more advanced than crude Imperial engineering but the range was short and the warheads had no time to arm properly. They crashed into the craft and burped into pathetic yellow flame. Yet the physical impact was enough to shatter control surfaces, sending the craft dropping from the sky like a stone. The gunship slammed into the narrow stretch of earth between the two opposing armies and exploded into a brilliant cloud of flame. Heat washed over the line and made the Fire Warriors stagger back, stumbling from the blastwave as noise battered their ears so harshly even their helms could not dampen their pain. They stumbled and they reeled, many frantically dropping to roll in the dirt as flames caught alight upon their fatigues.
"Redress the line!" Alohvar roared.
"Give us a second!" Bruch'ich snapped.
"We don't have a second," Alohvar snarled, "Hurry or they will…"
Alohvar trailed off as the flames dissipated slightly and he saw the Gue'ron'sha, or rather where they had been. With a second of relief the commander had rallied his forces and ordered them to redeploy. Yet he had not advanced into the flames or retreated across the long killing ground, where they could be easily picked off. No, he had scattered his forces left and right, vaulting the Tidewalls to sprint for the base's buildings. Alohvar had a brief glimpse of orange armour disappearing behind the curved walls of the barracks and the leader let off a ravening beam of energy from a pistol, that was deflected by his protective shield drones. Then they were gone, leaving piles of their dead behind.
"They escape!" Teq'ila roared.
"The Earth caste, the Air caste… they'll be slaughtered," Spiy'tus gasped.
A cold rage lit in Alohvar's heart as he saw disaster looming. His beautiful Mont'ka had been shattered, broken by the cruel whims of chance and now his people were in danger. He yearned to obliterate the filthy humans utterly for this outrage but the way of the Tau was not wanton carnage, they fought with cold precision and unity of purpose. Biting back the instinct to hare off after them he cried, "Reform your teams, Shas'Ui get your warriors in order! Spread teams by staggered pairs, cover each other's advance; don't let them draw you into melee. Fix the foe in positon then call in drone support or heavy firepower. And watch your damned angles for flanking attacks!"
His duty done Alohvar was free to give chase and he leapt into the sky, jet pack howling. Below he saw the base overrun with orange warriors, the Gue'ron'sha spreading out among the buildings and starting their slaughter. Already several structures were smoking, blown apart by grenades tossed through vision slits or riddled with mass-reactive fire. Even as he watched a Gue'ron'sha kicked open a door and let loose a burning stream of fire into a barracks. Flames billowed out and a trio of Fio'La ran screaming from the other side, collapsing like dying candles.
Alohvar's cold fury reached new heights and he saw the foe was too spread out to destroy in one fell swoop. Instead he roared, "Split by pairs and drive them away from the civilians!"
"What?!" Spiy'tus howled, "But…"
"Do it! Alohvar bellowed.
Teq'ila and Spiy'tus veered off in mid-air leaving Bruch'ich at his back. Together the pair fell upon the fire-bearer, blowing his spine out with a well-placed Ion shot. They thumped onto the ground and Alohvar found himself surrounded on all sides. He and Bruch'ich slammed back to back as they let rip, dousing the avenue between buildings with death. His Ion blaster spat continuously, downing several foes and at his back plasma and fusion fire ripped through flesh with ease.
Alohvar's teeth gritted as he fired repeatedly until alarms blared in his ears, warning of overheating energy coils but he ignored it. He fired until the wailing was continuous, unwilling to let up for a moment. He did not see the enemy clearly, his vision doubling with memories of the Nem'yar Atoll. He saw green foes with disgusting pustules mixed with the orange of the current foe and he yearned to sweep them all away with fire. The universe would be so clean once the Gue'ron'sha were dead: when the entire disgusting Gue'la race was extinct.
Alohvar swept the avenue clear but then there was a cry behind and he spun about to see what was occurring. His heart fluttered for Bruch'ich was down, the Crisis Suit missing a leg. Over his form five Gue'ron'sha loomed, one of them bearing a hissing fusion weapon that had shorn the leg clean off. Bruch'ich was left crippled and helpless and even as Alohvar watched another foe with a crackling hook-glaive leapt onto his hull, weapon pointed downwards to strike.
"No!" Alohvar screamed as he brought his blaster to bear but too slowly. The weapon speared downward and punched through the vision slit, sinking deeply into the cockpit and when it withdrew it was dripping with Tau blood. Bruch'ich was dead, Alohvar knew it to be true and his anger hardened, becoming an unbreakable diamond drill-bit of will. Disdaining ranged combat Alohvar threw himself at the killer of his friend, snarling in his foetal ball as he pushed his suit to the limit. The murderer spun the hook-glaive about to engage but Alohvar threw his weight bodily forward and his Onager Gauntlet slammed into the breastplate, shattering ceramite and blowing innards across nearby buildings.
Alohvar straddled the downed Crisis Suit as mass-reactive shells chipped at his armour. He levelled his Tri-cyclic Ion blaster and let loose a blazing shot that reduced an enemy to a charred husk, yet as he did so a screaming alert rang in his ear as the weapon critically overheated and shut down. As if sensing the moment of vulnerability the fusion gunner levelled his barrel and pulled the trigger but one of Alohvar's ever-present shield drones darted to intervene, putting itself between the commander and danger. The fusion beam struck the force field and punched straight through, reducing the drone to slag. Alohvar's suit was struck by molten bits of drone but the strength of the beam had been dissipated and his armour barely glowed under the feeble remainder.
The Gue'ron'sha saw he had survived and they attempted to close in with knives drawn but Alohvar would have none of that. His jet pack flared, not upwards but laterally, sending him straight at the fusion gunner. Alohvar's suited weight crashed into the human and carried him away, driving them both into the nearest wall and reducing him to smear of paste upon the surface. The impact rattled Alohvar in his cockpit but cold rage drove him to spin about, reaching out to snag the nearest enemy with his Onager gauntlet.
Alohvar could have torched the foe with a thought but instead he hurled the living being into his comrade, catching them both in a tangle of limbs. They went down in a heap and before they could stand Alohvar was upon them, lifting a clawed foot to stamp down and crush the head of one under his heel. The other was caught under the weight of the corpse and tried to stab a metal ankle with his knife as he cried, "Death to the alien!"
"Die! All of you die!" Alohvar blared as his foot rose and stomped hard, sending blood spraying up his legs and puddling all over the ground.
Stillness fell as Alohvar stood over his kills, the air in his lungs rasping in his throat. Sympathetic exertion made his heart hammer and he felt the pulse of his blood in his temples. Cold rage, so rare an occurrence for the Tau had lent him vigour but his species did not hold to anger for long and the emotion drained from him, leaving him spent. He wanted to collapse and weep over Bruch'ichs body but he was a commander of the Fire Caste and the battle was yet to be won.
Shoving his grief aside he signalled, "Alohvar here, report situation."
Spiy'tus called, "We are engaging but the Gue'ron'sha have dispersed, we can't get them all."
Teq'ila sent, "They'll burn the base down before we can end them!"
Alohvar's anger stirred once more, but he did not let it rule his heart. A lifetime of discipline told him that running around blasting foes would get him nowhere; he had to outthink this enemy. Alohvar returned to the dispassionate teachings of the Tau, all the more dangerous for its chilling calculation and he proclaimed, "Not while I still have one card to play. It's time to end this."
A neural-command sent a signal to his final reserve and moments later a deep rumble split the sky as the clouds parted. The ground shook and pooling blood danced as the howl of mighty engines swept over the base. A shadow passed overhead, cutting off the dim sky as enormous wings eclipsed the horizon from end to end. The Manta Bomber swooped from on high and from its wings hung burst cannons, railguns and missiles by the score. Alohvar's lips peeled back over his teeth as dark wings brought forth destruction from the heavens and he knew their passage would be the end of the Gue'ron'sha.