OSaBC : The Bird of Hermes

Chapter Twenty-seven: Unfearful Welcomes

A/N: Nothing concerning in this chapter, so be not afraid.

As always thanks to EnigmaticOne for typing this up, any mistakes are mine but of course I don't make mistakes...although I could of.

"I try not to think about it. About Deus, or Paul, or the dozens of brave men and women who died basically because one stupid, selfish person couldn't handle not being...whatever she was. I hope Ciana died in agony and is burning in hell, both for what she cost Hyperion and for what ended happening to all of us in the aftermath. The only good thing that occurred is that bitch and Abraham ceased to exist. "

- Commissar Sloane, conversations with Baroness Alina Dachmann

Paul examined something on his hand-held dataslate, then scowled up at the stormy skies. "Okay team, rally up. Make sure all squads have a good connection to the Flesh That Talks. Bomb squad, go low and do aerial GDP and scouting."

The bomber leader waved jauntily as the shuttles took off in a circling pattern, and Paul turned to the force now assembled on the ground. The bruised skies were full of dark, forboding clouds as he triggered his commlink.

"The plan is simple. Follow your BDOs. The suits and I will take point this time. Jaime, keep in constant contact. Unless we are directly engaged, right now ROE is do not start shit, but if something wants a fight make sure they regret it. Suits, knuckle up on me. Oso, Strickland, Jaime, Grace, brief your people. We move in ten, once the bombers complete their aerial sweep."

Gregory looked around warily. "Christ on a bike and Victor in the sidecar. Omega comes to the nicest fuckin' places, doesn't it?"

Jaime and Stryckland conferred for a moment, then the N7 nodded, saluted, turned and walked towards the assembled soldiers. One benefit of command, Jaime decided, was that if he was having trouble coming up with a good motivational speech, he could delegate that to the crazy but bombastic lieutenant. And Oso.

"A few words before we embark on these shores." Stryckland came to a stop.

"These are devil lands, Omega, the work of Satan as I've ever seen them. Full of daemons, demons and devils. I say this with little metaphor, for we face foes beyond our wildest reckoning. Strange necrotic entities that might as well be the souls of damned and departed that rot in hell. And the black furries look far too much of old-satanic images to be a coincidence for me to safely ignore. We've invaded hell itself."

"I wouldn't be too surprised if we see some historical faces. Pol Pot? Perhaps. Nixon? A certain probability. Hitler and his goons? More than a chance. Ardiente and his legion of fanatics? Absolutely. And we should not forget the Devil and Satan himself. He's mine. I have words to speak to him concerning a grave matter of heart. Something between him and my cannon."

"Such is our lot, as marines, as Omega, as warriors of God to be so blessed by Jesus, God and Victor as our witnesses, in our endeavor. That we shall bring holy purity to this land. We shall spring forth the tools that God has bestowed on humanity ever more! Omega will show the universe that what we see before us is of little obstacle. The damned shall be freed from their mortal carcasses to rejoin the holy spirit. And the furred demons shall retreat back to their black bearded master in rambling fear! And all others who oppose our blessed missions, shall be burnt and given back to the soil! Many of us will die. I myself, will certainly be among them, I know this to be true. But not before I take my piece from Satan himself. When I tear a chunk out of that twisted goatman, will I die with a smile on my lips and a howl in my lungs. Cita mors ruit! Make sure your comms and weapons are good, besides that I'm proud and honored to lead you to battle. And should any survive, I've unlocked my savings account so that any that survive shall have..."

Stryckland checked his balance. "Over 192,000 credits at his or her disposal. Make sure it's one big bash, Omega."

Oso's speech was shorter and more blunt, consisting mostly of a wide selection of Spanish curse words, impossible sexual acts, dubiously logical battle 'tactics', barely contained glee at using the Alchemist, and a stern warning to "fuck up anything talking shit."

The unit moved out in good order a few minutes later. The bombers reported the heavy fighting was pretty much contained to the active zones. Nothing seemed very interested in Hyperion.

Then again, absolutely no one wanted attention. Except Abraham.

The battlesuits led the way, each of the night-black Thermopylae suits stomping ahead with muted footfalls, punctuated only by off-color jokes from Abraham that only served to drive up Commissar Sloane's blood pressure. The main and flanking forces followed, then the science team under Grace, with the rest forming a rear guard.

The road network of this planet was robust and in miraculous shape, given Grace estimated to be in excess of fifty million years old, maybe older.

The group proceeded north at a good pace for nearly eighty kilometers before the Major called for a halt. "Have a problem at long range. Unit of corpse things, regimental strength, blocking the road. Long odds on going around them. Eye in the Sky reports five more war bands closing in."

"Main body and science team hold. Strickland, take your unit to that hilltop and set up for LR sniping. Have snipers and DMs reload with tangle-snap rounds. Once we do a tear-down firing, bombers will drop Glaive mines between us and them."

Stryckland saluted, and started hustling his units to the hilltop, spouting religious references that caused groans to arise from his men.

There turned out to be, as reported, a body of the Redeemed corpse creatures, roughly five hundred. These could not be called fresh, combat-wise. Many of them looked burned and wounded, the elevated plateau they stood on littered with both Redeemed and Ysani corpses.

Stryckland motioned his guys around, hefting his Tsunami assault cannon, but wishing he had a turian SPEAR cannon instead.

The mass of creatures were assaulting a bunker of some kind of greenish metal built into a sloping hillside, which was crowned with glowing silvery metallic tripods. The tripods support glowing white orbs that lashed out at the skies every few seconds. At his best guess, it appeared to be a functional GTS site of some kind, although the bombers had not reported being fired upon.

An array of the black furred Ysani fought the corpse-soldiers in front of the facility, mostly in melee. He watched, the corpse-things pulled back behind a rise in the hills, and the Ysani drew back as well. Strickland's unit, positioned on a small over-rise behind heavy rubble, could see what was going on, but out of the direct line of sight of the combatants.

"Stryckland, what's the situation and your take?" Paul called in. "I've got Jaime reorganizing the unit for frontal assault."

"Herrero-sama, I think the warbands are assaulting some fortified bunker of some sort." Stryckland reported. "Looks like a GTS site. We could fuck them up from behind and maybe get access to it. At least, make sure the damned don't turn us against us."

"300 to 500 is not good odds, Lieutenant." Paul disagreed. "Do you see a way through this without an engagement?"

Strickland noted a narrow defile – probably a side street – running around the entire region to the east. It would be out of LOS… but it would also mean if those things came in, they'd be on Hyperion's flank, with nowhere to really move to in order to defend.

They could swing further east still but that would put them on an open plain with no cover for almost thirty kilometers.

"Herroro-sama, there is a narrow side street that we can evade around, but we'd need a distraction to keep them busy or else it's going to be closer than a Windsor sword match."

"Hmm." Paul mused. "We can task off some of the JOTUNS if we need to."

"Of course, I also see that we could go around further east but that's a suicide path. No cover for a good thirty klicks, and if they target us we'll lose most of our force."

"Yeah, I saw that plain, coming down. Not a good idea. Set your men up in overwatch, LT, main body will move that way. Grace, recode ten of the JOTUNS to act as a distraction if those things look too closely our way."

Paul turned to Jaime. "It's your call, nephew. We go in straight steel from the front, we're going to take a beating, but we can close with them and probably swamp them under. If we go sneaky, we may run into whatever is on the other side of that ridge that they're fighting."

The problem, Jaime felt, was that the first option meant making enemies out of the ysani. The sneaky option ran the risk Paul mentioned, plus the chance of still getting the former problem.

Both sides outnumbered Hyperion thousands to one. For that matter, the ysani were the planet's wardens. Their goals and Omega's generally aligned, didn't they? Going it alone seemed like a big mistake.

Jaime looked back at his grand-uncle. "Call me crazy, but have we considered trying to tell them we're on their side and against the corpses?"

"...You are crazy as fuck, Jaime." Paul pronounced after a moment. "You want to just walk up to that and try to be friends? Suena como una forma dolorosa de morir."

"They're not the ones trying to release the Ythrongi, uncle." Jaime retorted.

"Point." Paul admitted. "Abraham, sight in on those fuckers with targeting. If they so much as twitch wrong, have the bombers turn that ridge into Brazil."

"With pleasure, boss." Abe affirmed. "Getting antsy though… Tell me we're not pulling any pansy punches today."

"Abraham, if this works, you'll still have plenty of fun with the corpse army." Jaime reminded the Wrecking Ball.

Paul exhaled slowly, then triggered his helmet, sealing his features away. "Who is going up there, then?"

"Stryckland, obviously." Jaime declared, opening a channel to Stryckland. "New orders, Lieutenant. I'm asking you – just you – to go close in and reach out to the Ysani. We're going to try diplomacy."

"I... of course, Jaime-sama." Stryckland nodded. "At your word. Shall I go unarmed or with my weapons?"

"It's not going to make a difference if they don't want to talk," Jaime pointed out, "so keep armed."

"Be careful." Sloane warned.

Stryckland turned to his second on the ridge. "I leave you with orders to the effect that, if I don't come back, have the best fucking party ever." He saluted, and started making an open movement toward the Ysani.

The creatures above paid no notice to him at first, but as the lieutenant shouldered his way up the rubble strewn incline, the ones on the right noticed and pointed. Fifty or so long slender rods aimed in his direction, glowing with a fell red light.

Stryckland raised his hands, in a hopefully universal gesture of peace, before bowing in supplication to the Ysani.

After a long second, the rods lowered slightly, followed by a commotion, as a literal fucking nightmare stepped through the throng of behorned black masses.

Towering almost fifteen meters high, it walked forward on goatlike legs of ropy brown masses that seemed to shift behind plates of green armor. The body was a horrific mass of mouths and teeth and eyes, haloed with six arms holding an array of weapons. A circular stone ring rotated around it, festooned with a thousand eyes, and six wings – black feathered and batlike – expanding as the thing stopped at the top of the hill.

Its voice was the grating of an avalanche, a gurgling rumbling sound that sent an atavistic reaction to run into Strickland's very soul. He recoiled, but kept steady in his desire to serve his commander. And surely he'd seen much worse. "Good day there, lord-commander of the forces. My name is servant-soldier Jayceon Stryckland, a mere insignificant to my commander. I come with a proposal if you would consider."

"Your language is known to us, water-creature." The Ysani monstrosity informed him. "Your kind have proven themselves hostile and in league with the things that seek to oppose the gods. Why are you here?"

"We are here to prevent the Ythrongi from rising, and we wish if possible to work with the forces of Hell," Stryckland emphasized that last word, "In ridding this planet of all those that would bring the damned away from the Ythrongi rising. And to clean up those pesky irritants that have caused you so much trouble."

He tilted, well it seemed like its head anyway. "You are too late. The corpse-soldiers have taken the Plinths. They have hacked our defense nets. They have had your kind destroy our central control and even now they burrow into the power stations holding the Tombs in stasis. All that is left is for us to reclaim the Shining Device and purge the danger once and for all."

"Then how can we help?" Stryckland kept probing for an opening. "We are meager, true, but the shining spear of our species. And we've brought assets with powers beyond our reckoning to prevent the rise of those that sing. We are also here to kill Ciana, one that has fallen to those that sing, Lord Commander. Actually, what should I call you, great lord?"

The thing turned, as another tide of corpses rushed over the hill. It barked out some guttural word, and the ones closest to Strickland raised their rods and fired. A torrent of hellfire erupted barely a meter above the lieutenant's head, slamming into the corpses. As the blasts hit they seemed to shimmer, and scything white hot blades of force spilled out in every direction.

The entire attack had been literally turned to a flying mess of sliced limbs, most of them on fire.

Back on the hill, Paul crossed himself. "So, frontal assault is out, I think. Because fuck all of that."

Jaime nodded. "¿No te alegra que haya decidido que deberíamos empezar a hablar?"

"That was too fucking close." Abraham rasped. "Finger almost slipped. Let's take them now, then, while they are distracted. They clearly don't want to work with us. Let me paste the fucks. I'm sure Strickland can run fast enough."

Jaime pointedly ignored the Wrecking Ball.

The Ysani commander turned back to Strickland. "If your leader is sincere, have him move your force of water creatures and walking metals to the ridge top there" – it pointed to a high ridge north of Hyperion's currently stationed position – "and help us repel the incoming horde. If you do that, my commander will speak with yours. If you betray us, we will immolate you where you stand and blow your vessel in orbit out of the sky."

The creature barked another command, and the ranged Ysani broke position, moving north (and out of line of sight on Hyperion), while the melee-armed ones also moved north, exposing their flanks.

Stryckland nodded and then commed Jaime. "Jaime-sama, have the forces get to the top of the ridge and help repulse the giant zombie waves that are incoming. If we can do that, we get a chance to talk. If not well, I'll die and our ride home is shot out of the sky."

Jaime nodded. "Copy that. All forces move to the ridgetop and get ready to back up the Ysani against the corpses. Iron Op tempo. Good work, Stryckland. Also, make sure they know about our air support and don't go shooting it down."

Stryckland nodded, and turned to the towering Ysani. "Lord Commander of Hell, if you prefer. My commander has left me here as a liaison with you, and also that I am at your disposal for the combat ahead, oh great lord commander. He also says we have some air support that we can bring in to tighten the odds substantially. If you could not shoot those down, we would appreciate it and assist you further in your own tasking."

He received what could only be called a 'smile' in the minds of the most demented of lunatics. "Yes, we know they are there. We have for some time. The sensor net covers the entire planet. Your forces are not in the sight of the polluted ones. I recommend your force use those ruins to flank them from the sides and behind. Return to your unit. We have tapped your amusing biological comm-net if your commander needs to talk."

Back on the hill, Hyperion's command staff were visibly freaked when Stryckland relayed what the Ysani asserted.

"Grace, how in the fuck can it tap the Flesh That Talks?" Paul demanded.

Surprisingly, it was Ryder who answered. "Your thing is psionic, right? Not sure about how all that works but at least in Ache Lameo and Ahaltocob, we're taught that anything psionic is basically an open book for other psionics."

"Given some of what I heard at my previous shuffled posts it is probably something along those lines." Grace sheepishly admitted. "An area we do apparently neglect compared to other units. Assuming I survive this, I'll definitely be petitioning for a new R&D lab wing."

Jaime internally groaned at the prospect of being out-thought by the clowns.

"Then again," Ryder added in a consoling tone, "at least you haven't had your comms broken and trolled with krogan porn by the STG like Ache Lameo did."

Arizona Deus visibly wretched.

"Cheap grays couldn't spring for the asari-hanar porn." Gregory snarked. "Figures."

"I'm not sure that is any kind of improvement, Corporal." Sloane commented primly.

"...Well, then it's good we came here to help, isn't it, boys and girls?" Paul's lips twisted "Abe, get the suits sighted up, ranged bombardment on the corpse fuckers."

"Have we considered the concept that these things are, quite possibly, bullshitting us?" Abraham argued as Hyperion made for the ruins. "Right now they seem to have their hands full fighting the corpses. And it may be just me, but if an unknown third party appeared during a clusterfuck like this? I'd wipe them out long before they made ground-fall if I had the chance. Especially since other humans have already caused issues for them. I'm a killer, and so are these things. So why haven't they already done it, if they can spare the focus and firepower?"

"If they knew, then why aren't we dead yet? The only reason that makes sense is that we will be dead later, whether from the fucking 'Shining Device' or by those weird red rods of doom. This doesn't add up, at all. Why are we trusting these things?"

"This is textbook power-playing and social manipulation, from a fucking alien at that. Assert dominance over the prey, make sure it knows it's defenseless, and then make it do what you want until it's useless, or until you get bored. I've done it enough to see it coming from a mile away. It's never fun to be the boring toy, and that's where this is headed." Abraham spoke as he and the suits sighted up for bombardment.

"I don't disagree, Abe." Paul answered. "I trust these things about as far as I do a High Lord. Problem is, we have no indication that the corpse things are even interested in talking. We'll draw fire and distract when you flank, nephew. Boys! Load up the tanglerounds."

Shortly afterward, as he made his way up the hill, Stryckland could see the enemy now. Five shambling masses of corpses running full out, a horrific bubbling morass of writhing limbs clutching bone swords. More than enough to overwhelm the Ysani defenders, with at least four to one odds. Probably more than five thousand corpses present.

He watched the OR force shifting around, all but the battlesuits heading for the ruins, as two more masses of corpses surged into view.

The Ysani commander's wings spread wide and hurled himself skyward. As it rose, the long silver and black rod in its hands glowed brightly, and it pointed at the nearest mass of corpse soldiers. The glowing green orb atop the blocky building flashed white, before a hellfire-like stream of red energy thundered out, the blast so strong it made some of the Omega soldiers stumble.

The impact site splashed with molten rock, blowing open a kilometer long gouge. The horde of running dead simply vaporized. Even as it did this, however, the green sphere flickered, and sank down into the building. The Shield unit ground to a short halt, allowing Stryckland to catch up.

They pushed on again, into the ruins, filled with meters-thick heavy basalt walls that, despite their decrepitude, still towered into the sky. Humanity's soldiers crunched over unsure footing, broken black glass and what were belatedly realized to be Ythrongi remains.

Here and there were frozen moments in time, like a large Ythrongi corpse lying shattered, shielding two smaller forms. A building had what looked like beds in it, with tangled bodies flung against the walls.

They reached the edge of the ruins, fronted by a sloping downhill curve of bare earth, and observed more of the Redeemed streaming out.

The ysani gunner fired again at a group on the east end of the battlefield. Dozens of corpses fell or were ripped apart, but the rest surged forward.

As expected, the already setup Ysani were the first to react, as the melee line suddenly broke into a thundering charge right at the corpse soldiers. The black-furred beings moved faster than the eye could follow, many adeptly dodging the lightning fast swings of the corrupted corpses, and hacking them in half with crystalline axes. One unit simply crashed completely through the front line of their opponents so hard, the defenders broke in half, both sections fighting desperately.

The two unengaged Redeemed units rotated in preparation to attack the Ysani flank, leaving their backs open to Hyperion. Then Jaime gave the attack signal.

The DACT hit first, crashing down among the middle of the tide of corpses. Each power armored soldier unleashed close range plasma bombardments and tanglewire fields along with sweeping omni-blade strikes, then did a single leap backwards, using their jets.

The entire line of corpses halted, only for the main body of Hyperion to open up now that the DACT were clear.

A stream of heavy fire – plasma, exotic missiles, the occasional AO deployed beam – smashed the line back further, flesh melting in streams or entire clumps of the enemy going up in pyrocaustic explosions.

Then, at Jaime's second signal, the lithe forms of the cyber-assassins burst up, smoke trailing from their stealth nets as they engaged the closest corpse soldiers. Limbs flew and hoarse cries of alien language erupted before the remnants of the would-be flankers retreated brokenly away.

As more Redeemed turned to face Hyperion, however, something fell from the sky.

It was nearly as large as the huge commander of the Ysani, but a mocking corruption of the Ythrongi corpses around the ruins. Smoking red balefire eyes narrowed above a gaping maw of a mouth done in jagged black glass, four limbs each holding a titanic bone sword the size of an entire human being.

The giant Redeemed spread his arms "Ahh, our guests are here. What perfect placement, I can eliminate two insects with one blow!"

The ground erupted behind the Ysani, to the east of the heavy building they were guarding. ground erupts. Four hulking collections of corpses, held together with bands of yellowish smoke and heavy chains, stumbled forward slowly, leaving gaping holes into the earth ending in blackness from which poured more of the corpse soldiers.

The Ysani commander turned and fired a blast from his rod at the force, but the giant corpse commander crossed his swords and blocked it, the titanic blast reflected into the heavens harmlessly.

The corpse lord spoke in a language which no human knew, but the Flesh that Talks was able to grasp:

"Your time is spent, old caretaker. Your people are half corrupted, your masters were eaten alive, your gods are dead, and your defenses shattered. We are not without pity. Turn over the Marker and we will let you live and leave."

Given its horrific appearance it would have been hard to tell, but the Ysani commander seemed unphased. "Your word is not even worth the air it would take to laugh at the concept, corpse-thief. You meddle in things beyond your grasp, and your Marker has been hurled into a black hole by now. You will wither and die like your foolish ally."

With a roar, the Ysani surged forward, crashing into the corspe-thing commander, and the two of them plowed through a heavily ruined building, locked in melee. The other Ysani shouted, beams of light erupting and maws gnashing as they charged forward, pinning the corpse between their forces and Jaime's.

Once again, despite having greater speed, the Redeemed moved slowly, still picking themselves free of the tanglewire mesh.

As Hyperion picked out new targets, the group of Ysani with long rods opened fire on the leader of the corpse-things, whose back was open to them as it fought the Ysani commander. This time, they launched energy projectiles of pale blue light. The corpse commander stumbled back in shock as they streamed right through his corrupted body, sloughing off great chunks of Ythrongi flesh.

"...What is... what..."

The Ysani commander barked loudly in mocking laughter. "Be not afraid."

His long rod shifted at one end into a bladed shape, swung three times, almost faster than the eye could follow. As the third blow bisected the huge corpse, the shambling hordes all around fell to the ground lifelessly, the giant lumbering things in the distance stopped and collapsed into heaps of ruin, like a puppet with cut strings.

The Ysani commander nudged the remains with a single hoof. "I was expecting very little, and I did not even get that much." The thing swept an arm, and the Ysani put away their weapons, all of them turning sharply and falling back to the building they were guarding.

It then turned to face the humans in the distance, and its voice came across the Flesh That Talks with a weird echo. "No more than three of you may come to meet my commander. Do not move the bulk of your forces any closer than the ridge."

"Well, that's totally reassuring." Sloane dryly commented.

"Also reassuring: Sloane, you're in charge until I get back." Jaime informed her. "Grace, Stryckland, with me."

"Oh darn, I don't get to talk to the actual goddamned demons." Sloane answered with faux-woe. "Unit! Fall in, force template alpha. Major, any other orders?"'

"No, we're good." Paul called in. "Could use a smoke if I could breathe the fucking air, though."

The selected duo fell in behind Jaime – Grace buzzing with curiosity, and Stryckland, bearing full of regal grace as he was trained as a servant-knight under the Windsors so long ago.

The Ysani commander had already turned his back, heading towards the single building, while the other soldiers used their weapons to break up the ruins and build what looked like defensive abatis.

The walk was not exactly short. And as Jaime and company got closer to the building, things stood out. It looked new for one thing, somehow, and unlike the snippets of video and recordings sent by the Ache Lameo team, was COMPLETELY unadorned. The greenish metal was darker than the stuff seen on the video, and the door a simple hexagon that wouldn't look out of place in an SA tower instead of the weird shit reported by the Sigma team.

The big commander remained outside and waves the three men in as the door opened silently. The room beyond was designed for clearly defensive purposes, as a low barricade straddled the room and heavy crystals hanging from the ceiling had rods sticking out of them.

Two Ysani snipers present glanced up at their entrance and one jerkily gestured to the right most door, another hex. This one opened upon approach, and Omega's emissaries stepped in slowly.

The new floor looked like a bizarre version of grass, red instead of green, and the blades all cruciform. A path of black closely fitted stones trailed down the middle. Wire-woven hangings that looked like star charts were plastered over the green metal walls.

A giant pool of red tinted water took up the back of the room. Above it floated a… thing.

Eyes festooned a stone ring of some kind of blue rock, while six white feathered wings flapped slowly. Four more eyes simply blinked lazily in mid air, surrounding a fifth eye in the middle, slitted and red.

A voice – not sound, clearly psionics – spoke in their heads, past the wards designed to stop that kind of thing. "Welcome. Be not afraid."

Stryckland fell to his knees, caught up in a sudden surge of religious ecstasy. "My lord-angel! I..."

"We do not require exultation, Jayceon-Stryckland-Knight."

"Stand up, Stryckland!" Jaime reprimanded. Wonderful,' he thought, 'Stryckland's questionable mental stability was showing, faced by a Biblical-esque being.

"Thank you for agreeing to see us, Ysanalarch," he added, more politely. It suddenly struck him that he knew it was the proper term to use, despite well, not having heard of these things

"Of course, Jaime-sama," Stryckland's eyes looked up to the angel floating right in front of him, his belief in God, and the mission so strengthened. Grace stared in fascination for a differently skewed reason.

The Ysani angel's eyes ran over Grace, then fixated on Jaime. "Do not thank me yet, Jaime-Herrero-Outcast. We have yet to determine if your desire to see Ciana-Vandefar-Monstrosity dead outweighs your threat."

"Threat how?" Jaime inquired. "I recognize that humanity so far has not impressed you with its arrogance and ignorance. My organization, however, is fully cognizant of the Ythrongi and their danger. Nor do we plan to linger beyond her elimination and cleaning up human presence on Rho-19."

"The fact that you are unaware of your race's previous visits and consultation with me illustrates why I cannot take that statement at face value." The angel replied. "This is what the Eldfell-Noble-Concern-Investment team said, and the Commissariat-Enforcer-Terror-Agents said. We suspect that – like them – you are pawns moved by a hand unseen in opposition to our master and God."

Jaime nodded. "I know. Something lured them to this system. Something altered the reports from the follow up groups to hide evidence of Ythrongi presence, so our organization couldn't stop this stupidity in its tracks. Something slaughtered the people we sent to investigate."

Stryckland shifted uncomfortably, not having been privy to any of this.

"And yet you do not suspect that you are here at the tasking of that same intellect? That the interference and fallout you have experienced to get here is not that same unseen hand?" The angel questioned. "You posses a weapons system using picotech deconstruction devices you call the Alchemist that is possibly the only thing capable of deresolving Ysani constructions."

Jaime scowled, because he could see the neat trick here, using Omega Responses' own duty and methodology against themselves.

"The Alchemist we brought to deal with Ythrongi specifically. Not... you." Grace tipped his head "Sorry for speaking out Jaime, but it felt prudent to bring up." The scientist wondered that if the voice could project into their minds, would the being hear what they project outwards? Was it simply unable to? Or might the wards still protect against that?

"Unless they tamper with our systems and trick us in a similar way, Grace." Jaime pointed out, having to consider the angles presented here.

"Your overseer-executioner-Commissar is distrustful as is your... relative. Your scientist is busy wondering what the limits of my abilities are." The angel commented.

Grace smiled at the confirmation, despite the implication.

"Ultimately, Jaime-Herrero-Outcast, I must make a series of choices. This facility is the containment for more than the Ythrongi. They are merely one part of the horrors my masters sealed away here. There are weapons systems that consume entire galactic clusters, ancient archeotech minds that can kill trillions with psionics, gates to anti realms of darkness and worse. There are vaults upon vaults of nightmare technologies, and a dozen more races as dangerous – or worse – than the slumbering Ythrongi."

"The Ythrongi are merely part of the defense, one designed to release if needed. Something has infected our system with this plague. Used it to corrupt most of the Ysani. Used it to draw in vulnerable people. The Commissariat-Enforcer-Terror-Agents and the Eldfell-Noble-Concern-Investment team were strong. They died rather than submit. Ciana-Vandefar-Monstrosity has fallen. We cannot delay. If she finishes her task your entire species will instantly become Ythrongi thralls. So this is the nature of our uncertainty, Jaime-Herrero-Outcast."

Jaime and Grace tensed up, while Stryckland looked overcome by mounting horror.

"Can what is here be killed as it rests, Ythrongi aside?" Grace questioned.

"Not any longer. Jason-Kinnix-Lord left with the command codes, and the arrival of the ones identified in their own minds as 'Sierra-Clowns'... their ship destroyed the command center containing the self-destruct controls. They then proceeded to loot a Curator and take it off the network, and now the Vaults holding the Ythrongi are compromised. Meanwhile, the main power system for containment and defenses is under assault and we have too few left to defend. More than half the Ysani are infested with a nanoviral agent that has rendered them feral and mindless."

Grace turned towards Jaime and glanced at the lordly Ysani. "If the Alchemist can break down your own structures and is a sufficient threat, can it kill what they contain without unleashing them? May be a... mutually beneficial option."

"Your weapon would not even scratch the door of the containment vessel." The angel casually dismissed the suggestion. "If any of what was inside was released, this entire galactic cluster would be destroyed in perhaps a few hours."

Stryckland finally pushed past his horror in full swing to ask a question. "I know I speak out of turn, lord-angel, but if your master and god is who I think he is – our own god of our religion, and that has blessed Victor in the past – Why can't you contact him to bring order to this place?"

The angel turned to Strickland "Strickland-Knight, you should already know the answer. Deuteronomy 6:16." Stryckland paled considerably, and promptly nodded. Do not put the Lord your God to the test as you did at Massah.

It looked back at Jaime. "So we are left with two unpalatable choices. I can drive the power systems of this world into overload and detonate the planet, while flaring the sun. That would obliterate all life and objects outside the Vault, including the Ythrongi. Unfortunately, doing so would require breaching the main power station in the hands of the corpse demons."

"That would also lead to the Vault remaining behind with many of its protections missing. Any fool could access the system and try to break in. We would not survive the process to defend it."

"Alternatively, we could attempt to jump-start the full reality anchor field and sink the planet back into no-space, which it was in for many years until the device was sabotaged. However to do that we would need access to the secondary command site, which is where the monstrosity is at. And none of my agents have survived direct combat with her."

"While I am tempted to call for the second," Jaime began cautiously, "how do we know our puppeteer hasn't planned for both of these options?"

The voice took on a sourly amused tone "And now you begin to see the outlines of my headache. If I am correct, the one we contend with is the very master of darkness and evil who led to the destruction of our master's very society. To out-think them is arrogance unbridled. If we are to use your people, then it must be done in a fashion where there can be no misunderstandings and no... irresolution in focus. Otherwise you are likely to be used, lead astray, and then either brutally murdered or turned into a puppet like Ciana-Vandefar-Monstrosity".

Stryckland mouthed 'Lucifer' under his breath. Jaime thought it more likely to be Delta, though he had to wonder if somehow these were the inspirations for Christianity.

He exhaled and nodded. "We'll follow your lead and see it through. I'll make sure of it."

The Ysani commander stepped through the door. "Lord Ramiel, more of the things are approaching the site. We cannot raise Lord Samyaza."

"Find another location and have the Curators transfer all Finebeam and Sensor controls to there." Ramiel commanded. "I will remain and deal with the horde."

Stryckland suddenly spoke up. "Lord-Angel, if you are what I believe you are, is it not then possible to have you accompany us in some form? I have read my scriptures, and while I am not as proficient as them, since I would think that if you don't wish us for any miscommunication, you could possess one us to make your will be known. And if so," Stryckland breathed heavily. "I... open myself as a vessel for you."

Jaime opened his mouth to shut down this madness before it got anyway, but Ramiel answered. "We all have our duties, mortal."

Stryckland bowed. "Of course, Lord-Angel. I did not mean to presume."

"The humans will accompany your forces." Ramiel went on. "Inform Surufel of the plan."

The Ysani commander made a snorting noise, but only spread his arms. "Very well."

"Sorry, two thoughts." Grace nervously called out. "I'm not the most tactical or decision oriented one here, but with more time or resources might we be able to work out something else? Is there anything you can do about Ciana herself? And since you have both access to me – ego making me say this – and presumably anything related to whatever agent has corrupted half your forces, could I work around it to at least tune them? Or program something from our countermeasures kit for it and remove the safeties. You can read my mind, you get the idea."

"Unfortunately, no, Grace-Nateesa-Explorer. Ciana-Vandefar-Monstrosity's use of the Ythrongi Song is disruptive to our very natures. That is why we must employ the Ysani, who are resistant. Otherwise this nightmare would have been over before it started. As for the infection... we thought it a tool of the corpses and their filthy Markers. Why my masters used it to power anything escapes me, but it is not my place to question. It turns out that was not the cause, and we have had no success in isolating it. Aka, make sure these humans get to Surufel. She will know what to do better than I."

"...Your will be done." Aka acknowledged. "Human warleader, we will move via transportal. Have your units meet ours on the high plains north of here, we must be away soon."

"Jaime-Hererro-Outcast." Ramiel's attention had returned to him.

"Yes?"

"Tell your relative. What assails us is the same touch of unnaturalness that he once felt. Tell him it was a state of not, a thing of anti-being. A scream of denial of what is-not. He will know of what I speak, but his mind is so shattered it would not be good for me to try to make sense of what he knows. Only that the danger is real, and not one that can be slain by blade, science or our arts."

Jaime sucked in a breath. "I'll do that, Ramiel."

The being floated higher, the reddish water in the pool below thrashing violently and spiraling up around it in long rings that began to glow. "Go in peace, and do not fear."

The door slid open behind them, as the thing turned away. The walls shivered as bits of green metal flaked off and began circling him.

"The only thing we have to fear is failure." Jaime replied, before leading the others out.

The building shuddered as they exited, the drained green orb atop it dissolving into green mist that pulsated like giant wings. The Ysani were already moving north, while Paul (and Sloane) stood out in front of the rest of Hyperion.

The entire building gave an alarming crack and split in half, a diamond-shaped curve of long spikes rotated into view. At the center Ramiel hovered, now encased in reddish light, as the building materials warped around into a trio of rotating wings, each festooned with green-lit glowing eyes. Additional wings of water spread a hundred meters to either side. An arm made of green metal extended to the north, a finger the size of a battlesuit inscribing a huge circle on the flat basalt there. A voice like thunder boomed: "Aka, go. They come."

On the horizon, the drone feeds (and bombers) showed a shifting wave of brown that resolved into a horde of corpses, at least fifty thousand, running at over sixty kph and increasing speed.

Jaime picked up the pace. "Hyperion, the stakes are even higher than we thought. We're going with the Ysani force headed north. Move out!"

Used to snap commands, the entire force moved, while Paul fell in next to him, absently waving for Abe to lead the suits. "What happened in there, and what in God's name is that!?"

Stryckland glanced back. "The Lord-Angel, Herrero-sama."

"Stryckland's going to be like that now." Jaime commented, before switching to a private channel with Paul. "What you need to know is that I'm following their lead. And before you protest, that's what Delta wants you to do."

"Jay hasn't been right in the head since Nova Scotia – or that Windsor girl dying – if you ask me." Paul scoffed. "Now, what do you mean?"

"Ramiel, our empyreal interlocutor," Jaime explained, "said that Delta arranged for us to be here, at this time because the Alchemist has the power to break open the containment. This place is basically the Department of Abnormalities, times 1 billion."

"Well, that's just great. I don't suppose Argent is gonna magically show up and help?" Paul's eyes narrowed. "Or do these things work for Argent? Because that's even worse."

Jaime smiled without mirth. "Yes. Argent and Delta are old enemies, it seems."

"Great. Just great." Paul swapped back to an open conversation with the others. "Abe, ditch all the fucking restraints, Code Zero Zero Base Four, authcode Victor Sierra Four Four Five Alpha. And have the suits go to ripple fire on all weapons keyed to single target release."

Anything else?"

"Flesh is not the only thing compromised here Paul. Same effect on our minds when near it." Grace warned. "Past the protections."

"Good luck with that working on me." Paul dismissed, only for Jaime to interrupt him, still on a private link.

"Ramiel said this: 'a state of not, a thing of anti-being, of is-not.' Something you previously encountered, and has effectively neutralized over half the Ysani."

Paul's battlesuit came to a stop after a second. He half turned, gazing at the giant form in the distance, then continued on, but his voice was quiet. Jaime could barely make his words out.

"So… /Failstate/, huh."

Then, in a louder voice, and on an open channel: "Hyperion, hustle. Form up on the, uh, Ysani. Go to full combat readiness. Squad leads, AO carriers, fire at will on hostiles. Grace, go ahead and break out the keys for Alchemist launch now and get them passed out."

"Affirmative." Grace rushed off.

Sloane called in at this moment. "With all due respect, Major, removing Abraham's combat restraints is one thing but the behaviorals–"

"No time to explain, Sloane, but the behavioral controls slow him down. And we're going to need all the edge we can get, this just went 200% suicidal." Paul replied. Sloane did not respond to that.

Jaime fixed his gaze on Paul. "So...Echo Mirage?"

"Nephew, you really don't want to know. I told you what I could." Paul insisted. "If this thing is right though..." He exhaled.

The units, human and Ysani, were now all inside the massive circle, the corpses now clearly visible on the horizon. Out in front, Aka – the Ysani Commander – slammed his silvery staff into the edge of the circle, which suddenly turned bright green.

Hyperion collectively reeled from the feeling of a very unpleasant kick somewhere in your gut and a blurry few seconds, and then the entire group was elsewhere. Pulling up the tactical feed, Jaime realized they'd appeared roughly within the original landing zone area, albeit a bit more north than planned for.

Several more Ysani units stood around, raising weapons at his people, but a sharp bark of noise from Aka and they dropped them. Another figure, similar to Aka but smaller (and with no wings) stepped forward, chattering in a language the Flesh couldn't make sense of, then made what looked like an angry gesture.

Aka answered in a calm tone, then pointed to another green tinted building, looking like a larger version of the building Jaime had just been at. The smaller one threw up all four hands, stalking off, and Aka turned to face him. "Prepare your forces while I determine a course of action, humans."

"Grace, FTL drone." Paul instructed as Aka departed. "Comms ensign! Call down one of those bombers for a drone pickup. " He keyed his omni, his voice cool and precise.

"Message begins. Adorior header. Deliver: list A, list B, and Liaisons 1 and 2. Message body: 'Identified alien leadership figures. Noted previous actions attributed to agents of Delta. Believe native 'Ysani' are agents of Argent. Site is active. /FAILSTATE/ connection suspected. Attempting resolution. Strongly recommend immediate CC action for solar relay immersion in five jump radius and deletion of system information from all star maps.' Message ends. Footer: attach armorcam and transmit logs. Complete."

He tapped his omni again. "Jaime, what are we doing? This guy has some kind of half-ass plan or are we just not picking a fight?"

"One of Ramiel's colleagues has the plan. Our job is to execute our part to the letter." Jaime answered.

"Alright. You have the command." Paul conceded. "But do we have any safeguards here?"

Jaime gave Paul a tired look. "¿Algo de esta situación te parece seguro?"

"Ha. Okay. Sorry." His uncle exhaled. "Nothing is safe, Jaime. But we don't have a fallback if this goes bad either, and if that thing is right..."

"Sending the drone to you with one of the escorts." Grace commed in. "Alchemist handout is in progress, if there's anything else you need."

Meanwhile, the soldiers took the opportunity to discourse about the situation they were in.

"So, it's been a minute since I've read the Bible, but I'm pretty sure that angels going to war is some Armageddon level shit. Full-on Revelation." Gregory commented. "This is going to be one hell of a story for the grandkids if we live."

Oso grunted. "Yeah, that thing looked like what the biblical angels were supposta look like. 'Member that from when my bro went to the War Priest Seminary."

Sloane glanced around, then tightened her expression ever so slightly. "The only faith we need is in God and Victor. I don't care if these things are undead, demons or something else, they still die as you just saw." An almost sardonic grin formed on her face, visible through the face-plate on her helmet. "Like the big guy said, be not afraid."

Paul cast her a sour look. "Your preaching needs some work, chica." His suit rolled its shoulders, as Aka stomped towards them. "Showtime, Jaime."

"Ohhhh, it's all me now, no more collar… no more strings." Abraham muttered a series of indecent expletives and phrases, ending in a keening groan. "It's been so long…. I'm aching to taste an Angel now. How much longer Paulie?"

Grace promptly opened as secure of a private channel as possible to Paul, given the circumstances. "I get that the situation is... bad enough to warrant it. But can you hand out the restriction reactivation codes on the unlovable rageball's suit to me and the rest of the command elements sans Stryckland in case you bite it first? I'd rather not have to deal with that mess if we're pulling out the engineering team if things somehow go to shit."

"Grace, no need. Abe will be sticking beside me until he goes down, he's too bloodthirsty to run from anything." Paul assured the scientist. "Or Sloane will blow his cortex bomb. She still has codes for that."

"Don't tempt me." Sloane muttered. Perhaps it had not been secure enough.

"She should come with us. I'll show you how I'd love with her, as a man should love a woman, with the broken bodies of these abominations." Abraham boasted.

Jaime had to ignore all this, and marched up to meet the Ysani commander. "Aka. What news?"

Aka glanced around the human troops, then down at Jaime. "There is a service downlink structure here. My forces will secure it and attempt to continue to coordinate the planetary defense. The enemy is landing more of those things all the time and building structures to convert more. There is a power control and access center here, one the earlier humans did not investigate. If you can reach that and shift power to our systems, we will be able to restart the full defense net of … ground to space annihalation systems."

"To be precise, you mean for us to shift power to the downlink structure you will be securing?" Jaime asked for clarification.

"Yes. You may have to draw power from other systems. I am unsure. The technicals were the first creche corrupted, sadly. There is a Vault facility nearby with an active Curator unit that can provide assistance, but that site is very badly compromised with corpse-abominations and will fall soon. If you have the power to clear it, the unit could be of assistance. Be wary. Vandefar is active in this zone."

"How much time will we have to restore the power?"

"I don't know, human. For now, the only enemy forces are at the vault to the west, and scattered units south and east of here. Something big went down here not long ago, your people." Aka pointed to a shattered mountain to the south, still glowing red hot, with wildfires raging around it. "THAT was the command center. Ciana walked out of that alive when my own superior leader did not."

Jaime sighed. "Fucking clowns. We'll get the Curator first, then go to the Power Circle." Given the vastly different technology, and potential incompatibilities with the AOs, it seemed like the most reasonable option.

"Very well. I've instructed local units to work with you, but be wary, infected Ysani will be hostile. Try not to die messily on any important controls, if you can."

Jaime rejoined the others and filled them in.

"Talk. Talk. Talk." Abraham groused, staring off into the distance. "Paul, my 'friend', are we moving ahead of the herd or with it?"

"We let them come to us. Drone telemetry is up now. There's masses of those corpse fuckers in all directions, milling about aimlessly." Paul answered. "Jaime. Move your force overland. Suits will flank south and intercept anything moving our way. Suits! Aspect beta, high speed overland traversal. Key targeting on myself and Abe for reaction fire."