They watch from the lower observation deck as the massive storm of dust approaches the Justice's battlegroup. Weather reports had been clear for weeks, the on-board Catastrophe Messengers constantly updating the crew. Everyone knows it's no Catastrophe though- at least not one sent by the Gods to punish them. This is a Catastrophe of Victoria's make; two more battle groups steaming to the rally point, following in the Justice's brutal wake from last week's breakthrough of the Rostova Line. Pincerbeast shell's been cracked, leaving only the soft meat.

The Indomitable, land-battleship of the Queen's Regiment of Fusiliers; and Righteous, base of Coldsteam Regiment. Three of Victoria's most modern battle-ships and all of the smaller destroyers and cruisers that went into supporting them, not to mention the Victorian marine elements aboard. Enough immensity to shake the earth, to blot out the sun, to very well be mistaken by the local populace as an unpredicted storm. Smaller mobile settlements had reportedly begun evacuation protocols, but the battlegroup's target has been slow to rouse. With the Ursan Fourth Army's mobile base captured and the Rostova Line cracked, Moskov lay just on the horizon, ripe for the picking.

At least, that's what the officers told the boots. Leftenant Davies has always been a bit sparse on details . Shae attributed it to just how forgetful her commanding officer is rather than the… rude things the other enlisted chose to say. Just the nature of CO's though, always had to think of bigger-picture things that Shae's tiny boot-brain couldn't comprehend, right?

"Thera."

"Leepu." Shae nods when the Cautus woman joins her, leaning against the railing.

"When did you want to practice?"

Leepu's voice is a bit distant, but when isn't it at this point? Poor woman's seen more death in the past few months than Thera had seen in the entire year leading up to the war. Still didn't break her though; if anything it only honed her. What happened to that green-horn that had been dropped into Thera's platoon, shaking in her boots and jumping at every little bump? What happened to that young woman who still laughed, who looked to Thera with awe and determination, who spoke so melodically-soft?

"We can go right now, but what's the rush Leepu?"

The black-haired Cautus just casts a long glance at Shae from the corners of her eyes, insulted that the sergeant would even ask. The girl is a feisty one when she finds her spine, that is for certain.

"Only have a few days." Leepu grumbles, huffing as she stares out into the distance once again.

"Aye?"

"It's going to be close quarters."

"Aye."

"So I need to get better."

Shae holds in the sigh. If the Cautus girl kept running a kilometre-a-minute like this, she would break down. Not even the most burly of burden-beasts could keep such a pace.

It reminded Shae of someone.

"Alright, get your kit and meet me in the gym then." She said, pushing off of the railing. Only a few more days until they are thrust back into the fray, and she wanted Leepu to be ready too. Even if little lessons like this continued to kill away the bits of Leepu that kept everyone else sane… losing her would mean there'd be nothing left to put back together at the end of this all. That's what Shae told herself as she made her way to the training room at least. Those bits of herself that she buried, hid away from the harsh realities, a way to keep herself sane amidst insanity. Yes, gingerly tuck Shae away into the back of her own self; there was no need for Shae, the soft-spoken noble's-daughter. That once-poet, that lover of dance, that lauded fencer, that fairy-tale reader, that hopeless romantic, that…

That disappointment.

Thera pursed her lips, readying a set of safety pads for the coming sparring match- not for herself though. Never for herself.

Nothing… ever for herself.

Nothing.


"C'mon! You need to be faster." Thera growls, coming in like a bolt of lightning before Orianna even finds her footing. Two strikes; one to the thigh that wheels around to a clipping blow of Orianna's helmet- both would have been lethal.

"You still plod around like a pad-footed cysty-beast," Thera points the tip of her sabre at Orianna's feet before throwing a threatening smack the Cautus' boot-heel. "You forget what I taught you already?"

"No ma'am-"

"Don't ma'am me, Leepu. Just fucking remember what I taught you."

Shae- no, this is Thera talking now, and Orianna needs to take that fright she feels and put it to use. Feet planted firm and on line with her blade, ready for Thera once again. The white-haired Feline scoffs, scrutinising Orianna's stance as she twirls her practice-sabre lazily. A bait, a confidence that stems from someone far more experienced in the art of killing.

"Well!?" Thera pelts out, gesturing at Orianna, "Are you coming to me, or am I coming to you?"

The malice, the hate, the anger that hisses from Thera's voice locks Orianna's legs in place, sends a shiver that rattles all the way to the tip of her sabre-

And in that moment of weakness, Thera lunges again. A simple thrust, with the speed of a striking viper.

A simple thrust that could run a man through if that were a real-steeled point.

Orianna flinches, taking a step back and swatting at the killing-point… and Thera cackles in delight. "There you go, Leepu! Kept your footing that time!"

Thera slinks back out of range before a counter-attack could be mustered, circling Orianna like a predator, testing for that opening; and Orianna has no doubt that there are enough gaps in her guard to look like Kjerran cheese.

Another lunge, another panicked backstep and beat of Thera's blade… and another crack off the side of her helmet rattling her skull. Thera had stepped in after the lunge, took the momentum of Orianna's sabre and wheeled her own around with a whip of the wrist.

"Quit being cowardly! If you give your opponent the tempo, they get to dictate how you die!" Thera snaps, motioning for Orianna to take a knee and rest a moment. "You need to kill, Thumper. There's no pretty way of dressing it up."

"I know. "

Thera's energy is palpable, the way that she stalks around the training room, how her fur seems to be standing on end. It's like how even in the safety of the Justice's armoured belly Thera is still ready for a scrap.

"At least take your kit off. You're still barely past the basics-" Thera motions to the chest-rig and bandoliers that Orianna's wearing, laden with rocks instead of live grenades.

"No." Orianna grunts, shaking out that ringing sensation from her ears. "It's not like I'm going to get the chance to drop it all before I fight someone."

"Suit yourself."

Thera comes barreling in suddenly, blade just a blur as she swings. The clack of wood off wood, the impact shuddering up her arm…

And Orianna steps, shifts herself as Thera's follow-up swing rips past where her head had just been. She… avoided it? She avoided it!

The elation is cut short when Thera grabs her by the arm and yanks Orianna forward, throws her off balance and face-first onto the mat. The cold point of wood she feels against the back of her neck is enough to tell her that she'd be dead once more.

"Footing Leepu. C'mon, get up. We're running this again."

Over and over again. Bruises, countless bruises, countless moments of stumbling away with ringing in her ears. Defeat after defeat, a win-loss record so stilted that even the Derby County football club would be ashamed.

And yet, Orianna still drags herself up, still readies herself for that coming storm again and again.

Until her arm goes tired.

Until her head throbs mercilessly.

Until she's thrown on her back and her body finally refuses to move.

Thera stands over her, casting that long shadow, a frown furrowed across scarred brow, those beady emerald eyes pinning and holding Orianna there. Unblinking, unmoving, a predator over its prey.

"I know what you're doin', Leepu." Thera says, extending a helping hand after a deep sigh hisses from between her teeth.

"Oh aye, sergeant? Figured out that I'm not just enjoying what time I can get on a soft mat before we ship out again?"

The snark…

Orianna… never dared snark to anyone in her life. Enough brow-beating back home had put that humility, that passiveness into her while she was still young and impressionable. Hard set it too, made the very foundation of who she was all the way up through basic training and specialist school. Funny how all it took to knock that out of her was seeing the worst things humanity could do to one another.

Thera yanks Orianna to her feet, holding her eye-to-beady-eye for that single intense second- one that has Orianna instinctively apologising to her sergeant. Emotions… tend to run high when the ghost of adrenaline still has its grip on you. Even with an apology though, it doesn't seem like Thera's letting her off the hook yet. The sergeant still grips her hand tightly, still refuses to blink as she glares through Orianna.

"Even if you knew how to use that sword, that lad would have been a goner either way."

"I know that!" Orianna blurts, feeling how every hair on her body seems to stand on end at Thera's truth, "It's not about who I can have saved, it's about staying alive!" The shame from her past mistakes heats Orianna's cheeks, makes her all the more uncomfortable in her own skin, but still she has enough spine to stare Thera back dead in the eyes. "If I don't live then who else is going to remember what they've done?"

And after a moment of harsh silence, Thera grabs Orianna by the scruff of her neck. It's not painful, nor is it particularly harsh, but the Feline sergeant's strength is still terrifying in its own right as she pulls Orianna closer. Most people might have been scared for Orianna, figure that she had done something to warrant the rough treatment, but she knows Thera, knows that that squeeze and the slight shake, they are a show of Thera assurance.

"Gods above, Leepu, there's no telling what's going to happen in the coming days… but I can tell you this." Thera… or is it Shae this time? Either way, the sergeant pulls Orianna in, wraps those massive and powerful arms around Orianna for a moment to hold her close-to-breast. Makes the words that rumble from her all the more real, all the more important. "If you keep going on like this, you're going to burn up."

"I know." Orianna whispers to herself, "Trust me Thera, I know."


A series of flashes in the distance, briefly bringing a focal point amidst the massive wall of blackened steel. Orianna counts the seconds from flash until splash-

Explosions splash dirt, tear scars into the badlands, kicks heaving coughs of smoke and Originite into the air…

Four seconds.

But none of those shells hit the Justice, nor any of her escorts as they charged. Full burn, straight towards the objective. "Minimum target profile" is what some of the higher-ups had said in a briefing- as stupid as rushing head-on into enemy guns sounds. Orianna can understand it, from a trooper's perspective at least; nothing different than what the Steel Cavaliers did on the daily.

"We've got time until we need to be on standby." Thera announces as she approaches from behind, taking up a bit of the railing beside Orianna, "Your team's ready?"

"Wouldn't be standing here if they weren't." Orianna answers, trying to feel the shuddering of the Justice as her guns return fire. Hard to tell given how it feels like the whole world is trembling as she churns the earth in that relentless march forward.

Makes it easier to hide Orianna's own trembling.

"You know, I've never assaulted a mobile-city either." Thera says offhandedly, watching the same monitor as Orianna now. "This'll be a learning experience for the both of us." Another series of flashes from the city-guns announcing their spite at the explosions that bloom out from all along its outer walls…

Three seconds.

"We're makin' history, Leepu."

Two seconds.

"But they told me ignorance is bliss, sergeant." Orianna glances over, "I don't feel very blissful, do you?"

"Brace for impact!"

Reflexive, every single soul on the ship having the instinct drilled into them. Setting oneself, gripping tight to whatever is close-at-hand as the whole Justice seems to tense-

One second-

Explosions scattered about- not that much different than a canister-shot… and just like canister shot, something finds its mark. An echoing clang, a thud that seems to reverberate through the entire ship.

"Did we… take a hit?"

"Damage control party away to Frontal Armour Section Two-Two."

"Does that answer your question, Leepu?" Thera grins wide and wild-eyed, "Better get to departure. I got a feeling that city's going to be crawling to a stop soon enough."

A hearty, if not winding slap to the back, but Orianna holds her ground, doesn't let Thera knock her footing. She can feel it then- the dull thumping, the rumble of rumbles filled with spite and anger, the Justice, Indomitable, and Righteous answering Moskov's offence. Explosions, great orange begonias blooming from beneath Moskov's massive treads. At first Orianna figures them as misses, but for all three ships to miss in the exact same spot? It's intentional aim… an attempt to cripple Moskov's mobility at the ankle. They'd wound the old Bear, then descend upon it like wolf-beasts, a ravenous mix of destroyers, battleships, and eventually assault transports…

And the soldier-ants that their six-wheeled hives carried inside, ready to crawl upon the carcass. How hard would the Ursans fight for an actual city? Everything up until now had been border fortresses and abandoned townships, but this was a proper city. No country on Terra had dared assault a mobile-city from the outside in decades.

Orianna has this feeling… that she might not have enough grenades requisitioned.

"All outbound troops to your assembly areas. Repeat, all outbound troops to your assembly areas. Final call, briefing in five minutes." The intercom crackles and repeats, and Orianna moves instinctively without another word to Thera. She strides through the lower decks with a singular purpose even as others scatter and buzz around her. The armoury is crowded with last-minute soldiers grabbing their kit, but Orianna's lucky enough to bypass the majority of the troopers as she goes to the specialist quartermaster; perks of being Weapon's Squad. Dunni's lance, her pack, her bandoliers, extra hand grenades, her sabre… each layered atop her, rigged to her, weighing her down, but it's a comforting feeling.

Like it binds her together, holds her firm to the ground, keeps her focused as she moves for her platoon's assembly area. Nervous chatter echoes through the hangar, the rumbling louder than anywhere else on the ship, the dulled thumping of explosions somehow finding their way into the underbelly of the Justice. Some flinch when they feel the reverberations, others look around as if worried the Justice would crumple inwards- those were the greenhorns. The rest, well the rest would listen and laugh, make bets on how many shells the Justice could take, do their damndest to ignore the fact they were all about to climb into soft-skin vehicles that definitely couldn't take a shell.

"Hey Thumper."

"Hey corporal."

"Good luck, Leepu."

"Yo, Corporal Leepu-"

Orinna silently greets with cordial waves, smiles, and nods as she goes by. People that she barely recognizes anymore, blurred faces and voices until she finds the one that she still can pick out amongst the gathered crowd.

"There's our songstress." Thera teases, motioning for the gathering of Second Platoon to let Leepu through the huddle. The sergeant is still securing her spare steam tanks to the back of her frame and without Trevolt, Orianna steps forward at once to help Thera with her final checks when everyone else seemed content to stand and look like a bunch of worried children. She's not kind about it either, roughly tugging at the frame's harness to test the straps, banging the tanks encased against Thera's back, and making her sergeant jerk about despite being laden with pounds and pounds steel- something none seemed brave enough to do to the sergeant .

"Thanks, Thumper." Thera grins, giving a squeaky, gauntleted thumbs up when Orianna slaps her on the back- the sign that Thera was good to go. The leftenant still hadn't stepped up with her bullhorn-of-a-mouth, so they still had a moment to gather themselves, to have one last word together before it's all business.

"Cunningham, Teller." Orianna calls out for her teammates amidst the gaggle… and to her surprise, the troopers snap to her at once, lances tucked in against the chest as they stand at-attention. Cunningham's got that grim smile on her face, and Teller -the Feline greenhorn- seems too eager… but he'd learn soon enough. Without another word to them, she checks their rigs, checks their kit, checks their weapons- anything and everything that Orianna could feasibly think of… and finds nothing out of place. They look like they are ready for her to say something, some sort of encouragement or blessing, but nothing comes to Orianna's mind. Cynicality intercepts those thoughts, shoots them down as easily as a canister-shot to a fowlbeast, leaving Orianna standing there stupidly, her face a contortionist show as her two charges stare at her. Gods above, they are no younger than she is… and yet Orianna felt years older- six months expanded into decades.

Lips chapped, mouth dry, Orianna glances around at everywhere but them.

"You'll do fine." She awkwardly mumbles, and thank Her Light, thank the Gods, thank anyone that Leftenant Davies leapt onto the ammo crates beside Second Platoon at that exact moment. Trooper reflex kicks in, every single soldier in the huddle suddenly snapping towards her, at attention.

"Ladies, gents, it is time. Remember your objectives, keep an eye out for your fellow troopers, and most importantly communicate. Once we are in that superstructure, fighting will be tight, it will be bloody, and it will be relentless. The Ursans will fight us tooth-and-nail to keep us from capturing Moskov, and they will be playing that game with numbers." Leftenant Davie's voice belts over the unit, hers drowning out the other platoon leads doing the exact same thing, just with different words. "Everyone should know our designated rally points once we reach the city-level if you studied the maps like I told you to. I don't want to hear any of my troopers asking the locals for directions, hear me?"

"Aye leftenant!"

Davie's eyes scan over her troops, hardened, sharp, cold. If Orianna felt like someone tore her guts out when one of her teammates returned to Her embrace as ash, what did it feel like to the Leftenant? That green gaze softened for a moment, and for that instant Orianna saw the woman beneath. Voice softer, recognizable yet alien at the same time, the contrast stunning the troopers that stand beneath Davies. It grabs everyone's attention for her next words,

"Those of you that make it into the Moskov, look after one another and look out for your sister platoons, because until we carve that foothold and take out those defensive guns, there will be no evacuation. We make it topside, or we don't-" Davies breathes out, giving one last scan over the grim determination of her soldiers.

"But we are Victorian stock!" Davie's voice rises once more as she thumps her chest, "Finest in the world! Doesn't matter what you are or what you were before, each one of us carries Her Light, Her hopes, Her freedom! My Her Light never falter!"

A cheer rises up from the collective, Orianna's included. Even if the mind did not believe the words, the heart could.

"Right. Everyone to their places. Sergeant Thera-"

"You heard the leftenant!" Thera roars over all, even the other briefings, "Pile in! Get nice and comfy, we're all going on a bumpy ride!" To add to the cacophony of troopers filing out, Thera clangs her shields together as well, a resonating beat to guide the march.

"Up to mighty Londinium came a Vourvire man one day, all the streets lit with gold," Someone had begun to sing amidst the crowd, "So everyone was gay! Singing songs of Peekadilly Strand, and Leshter Square."

"'Til Horn-sy got excited and he shouted;"

"It's a long way to County Hillock, it's a long way to go! It's a long way to County Hillock, to the sweetest girl I know!"

"Goodbye, Peekadilly, farewell Leshter Square," Orianna sang under her breath as she filed into the transport behind Cunningham and Teller, "It's a long long way to County Hillock, but my heart's right there."

"You've got a good voice, corporal," Teller grins, helping secure Orianna's pack and weapon for her. Cunningham's shove and frown didn't erase that curiosity, if anything it made the Feline man just lean forward as Orianna buckled herself in across from him. Of course the new-blood wouldn't know, he came aboard the Justice just a week ago.

"Thank you, Teller. Never knew."

Even if Orianna was a dead-eye'd shot with her launcher, the sarcasm sails straight over Feline man's head. And despite Cunningham's best efforts at glaring everyone down and out of Orianna's business, more attention fell on her from the other Weapon's Team- the one that should have been lead by Bull…

"What was it you did before the war?" Someone asked. A no-name trooper, one of the automatic-crossbowmen, someone that… Orianna didn't recognize. Spoke with a thick Londinium accent though, Orianna thought her name was… Veeshta or something? Colonial Sargonian by the looks-

"Was a student, at first." Orianna sighs, trying her best to be friendly while keeping that wall up between them, "Signed up with the Steel Cavaliers right out the gate."

For some reason that bit of information surprised the lot of them. Even Cunningham, who was trying her best to give Orianna her space, perked up with those floppy Pero ears twitching even as she looked away. Teller rubs his chin, that grin growing wider, and Orianna sighs. Give a curious Feline a bit of string, and they'll take the whole spool-

"With a voice like yours, I figured you were with the Londinium Opera-"

"Okay Teller, lay off the charm, it won't land you a night with the corporal." Someone else chides with a guffaw, somehow managing to send a kick down the line against Teller's boot.

"Too late for that, anyhow. You're supposed to bed a sweetheart before you climb into your other lover. At least your lover here is loose enough to fit all of us in her, though." Orianna finds herself snarking back on pure boot-instinct. Though she grumbles it, though she had meant to put bite into the insult to get the Feline to shut his gob, Orianna's dirty wit is enough to get everyone in the transport laughing and jostling the man.

It is enough mirth to ignore the shaking of the transport roaring to life, enough raucousness to forget how the drivers above them are testing the engine. Orianna knows the Justice is slowing down to drop the hangar ramp soon, the assault transports to be guided down their lanes by rail to where they'd hit that fateful slope and drive out. Five at a time, and they were in the third row, first wave. The nervousness creeps back in as the transport lurches, the clattering of the chain-assisted railing loud enough to rattle in everyone's head. Just a glimpse around… is enough to tell Orianna that none of these soldiers are ready. Honestly, she isn't either- could anyone really be? She can't even cope with her own energy, the bouncing of her leg and thumping of her heel against the floor only seems to jump back into her, and she finds her mouth opening.

"I thought thought I'd get my own burdenbeast, you know?" Orianna admits to the group completely out-the-blue. Their surprise matches her own, the eyes all turning to her instead of to the assault ramp- to the cold and featureless steel where they couldn't even see if death was coming for them.

"As stupid as that sounds, I just… really thought the idea of riding around Londinium atop a burdenbeast was glorious. Not once did I ever stop and think that the 'Steel' bit in our namesake was literal." She shakes her head, laughing quietly at herself, "Just a dumb country-girl without a clue."

She was expecting snickers and snorts, there were smiles, but none mocking- of course none were mocking, she was the ranking trooper here-

"You're not the only one, corporal." Someone from the auto-crossbow team admits, "Recruiter in Yorks told me I'd be charging into combat on my own personal landship. Load of bollocks that was."

"Oh aye, they'll say whatever they can to get the hooks in." Teller chirps, excited to have the attention come to him next, "Say, the corporal's the only one here who's been day one?" Chatterbug never notices how his words shove the lance into Orianna's gut, but she grins it off all the same when she sees how the rest of the stack ignores the next lurch forward. They aren't counting how many drops to go before their turn. She catches someone staring at her out of the corner of her eyes though- Cunningham.

"What, Cunningham?" Orianna snaps, trying to wipe that irksome smile off of the Pero's lips with that snarl in her voice.

Doesn't work, though.

"Nothing, Corporal Leepu. Nothing at all." Cunningham grins off Orianna's glare as if it were nothing more than a cooling breeze.

What does sober Cunningham -and everyone else in the transport for that matter- is the sensation of the front-end of the transport dipping over the threshold. The engine roars, the suspension groans as they go over the edge. While everyone else holds their breaths, Orianna relaxes- breathes out slow and relaxed.

"Tactics… sharpen the mind." She chants, feeling that moment the wheels fall free of the Justice.