Chapter 3; Sand duels and loss

A Gaalsien soldier named Ramien was lying flat on his stomach, peering over the lip of a dune with a pair of binoculars. It was nighttime, the desert now cold and dark and quiet. Another soldier named Ginnael lying on her back a little further down the slope of the dune glanced at him. "What ye seeing boss?" She asked in a hushed tone so as to not draw enemy attention

"Looks like Coalition infantry guarding a transmitter, ten or so, a pair of LAV's as well." Ramien replied, adjusting the settings of his binoculars, observing the glowing orange shapes that the binocular's thermal vision showed him. "Ah, dammit I think they have a scanner set up as well."

"A Scanner?" Ginnael repeated, concern in her voice.

"Don't worry, I don't think they can detect us, we're on foot and we only have a few electronics with us. Our ship though…"

After observing the Coalition position for a while longer Ramien finally slid cautiously down from the lip of the dune. "Ok, let's get back; I think we've seen all we need to for the time being." He said to Ginnael.

With that the two of them left the area, slowly crawling at first, and later, when they became convinced they were a safe distance away, they stood up and walked the rest of the way.

"Damn I hate these nighttime scout OP's, it's freezing out here!" Ginnael complained bitterly after they had been walking for awhile, shivering and rubbing her fingers in a vain attempt to keep them warm.

"Oh please it's not that cold" Ramien argued in a light tone.

"No? Ye hotbloods have it so easy. Spill some of yer red on the sand, ye would turn the damn stuff to glass, I swear. But poor old me? It feels like my fingers are getting eaten right out of my hands! Ginnael answered.

"It is a scientifically proven fact that current temperatures are well within the tolerance range of human physiology." Ramien stated with a false voice of assertiveness.

"Who cares about scientific anyway? If it feels cold, it's bloody cold. Now that is a Sajuuk blessed fact that is." Ginnael muttered.

"But if it feels cold to you but not me that makes the matter relative. So that means that from my point of view it's not cold at all. So maybe the solution is just to see things my way?" Ramien offered helpfully.

"Oh shut it."Ginnael said in half-serious annoyance after a moment of looking confused. "Ye learned types, always mincing words…" She grumbled.

"And then there is the hour we do these things." she continued after a moment of silence.

"Well, a successful infantry scouting mission requires the cover of darkness, and you may not have noticed but that's usually available at nighttime". Ramien answered playfully.

"Unfortunately." Ginnael replied dryly "Still, ye have to admit that this is not natural. Any normal person would be asleep at this hour. At least if you were in decent places where people still sleep at night."

"We're not in decent places, soldier." Ramien commented.

Ginnael made an amused snort "Guess not."

And so they went, on and on, bickering between each other as was their custom, about this and that, of nothing in particular. It was a game of theirs, a part of their partnership, something they had done for as long as they had known each other.

It took almost half an hour of walking to make it back to their ship, but finally it was in front of them. It was one of the Gaalsien assault ships, currently on the ground and unpowered to avoid detection. The two of them clambered inside to the cramped confines of the ships, where the other two other members of their crew, T'rel and Adrimas, were waiting.

"So, what did you find?" T'rel asked when he noticed them enter.

"Trouble, as usual." Ramien said in response. "Listen up and we'll fill you in on the details".

Some moments later all four of them were gathered around a map as Ramien explained the situation.

"So we are here," He said, pointing to the appropriate area of the map. "we were scouting around this area over here, and we came across a Coalition sentry post."

"How many?" asked Adrimas.

"A pair of LAV's and full squad of infantry, guarding a scanner and a long range transmitter."

"That's all?" T'rel asked, surprise in his voice.

"Well, that was all we could see. Hopefully that is all there is, but you never know." Ramien answered, then continued his briefing.

"Now, the combination of a scanner and a transmitter makes this a tricky situation. Our ship can handle the enemy forces there, but with the scanner they can see us coming for sure and would alert their main base of our presence. If we were making another hit and run raid that wouldn't matter of course; we'd be in and out before they could react, but with the Ashoka coming through we can't have the enemy main base be alerted to our presence. For the same reason we can't just ignore this either. The Ashoka is even easier to pick up than we are, obviously. If that happens, the enemy will be prepared and the main fleet will have a hellish fight on their hands tomorrow. So that post will have to go, and with the rest of the fleet less than a day away we can't wait either. It has to happen tonight and it has to happen in a manner that they can't get word out."

"But if we destroy the post wouldn't they realize that something is wrong anyway? They have to have their outposts check in regularly." Adrimas arqued.

"Eventually," Agreed Ramien "but by the time they've figured out what has happened and responded, it should be too late, the damage done and our fleet in striking position. Anyway, it is better than doing nothing."

"So how do we go on about doing this? Do we go in as infantry?" T'rel asked next.

"No, we'd never survive the odds, even if we got the jump on them." Ginnael said, shaking her head. "Were going to need the ship if we want to win. We just have to figure out how to get it past the scanner."

"Agreed." Nodded Ramien. "I believe a combined approach is what is needed here. So what we're going to do is this: we take the ship as close as we dare, I'm thinking behind this ridge of dunes right here." He said, pointing a region on the map. If we move slowly and with only partial power we should be able to avoid detection long enough to get into position. Meanwhile two of us will be going in on foot. Ginnael and I know the terrain best, so we're it. We'll be bringing rockets with us, and we will start the fight by taking out the transmitter and doing as much damage as we can. With the transmitter down, I don't think they have another communication system powerful enough to transmit all the way back to their home base. When the shooting starts the two of you bring in the ship and blow the whole area to Sajuuk. We won't be able to survive long against that kind of firepower, so you have to move pretty quick, and you have to bring the ship from partially powered to fully operational in that timeframe, so it's going to get a little bit tricky. I trust you two can handle driving this crate by yourselves?"

"Sure, with me doing the driving plus shooting and Adrimas handling the scanners and coms, it's going to be no trouble." T'rel chuckled.

"Good. Then if everyone is clear on the plan and nobody has any questions, then I guess we should get out there and get this done, while darkness lasts." Ramien said, giving everyone an encouraging smile.

Before the crew set out, they made the necessary preparations, checked the ship systems one last time to ensure that everything was working as it should, and ate a quick meal of onboard rations and water. During this period the crew remained mostly silent, only talking when it was necessary, too nervous and lost in their own thoughts to joke or chat. Finally all that needed to be done was done, and the crew of four went into action. Ginnael and Ramien exited the vehicle and headed back to the location they had retreated from some half an hour ago. This time their assault ship trailed a good distance behind them, moving slowly, trying not to lift dust into the air and with the minimum of power that was needed. They kept to the shallows between dunes and points of cover whenever possible to shield themselves from scanners and visual detection.

After another half an hour of walking they were back were they had been sometime earlier, Ginnael now positioned some distance to the right of Ramien. They carefully placed their rifles to the sand within their reach, laying them on bolts of cloth to prevent sand from getting into the gun barrels or mechanisms. Then they took the rocket launchers into their hands, beginning to make them ready to fire. Ramien peered cautiously over the rim of the dune, then whispered to Ginnael: "You take out the transmitter, I'll take the LAV to the left." It went without saying that if Ginnael missed, Ramien would fire the next shot at her target instead. Ginnael nodded her understanding. After a few moments she gave him a thumbs up to tell him she was ready to fire.

"Up." commanded Ramien. With that they lifted the launchers on their shoulders and just above the lip of the dune, disengaging the safeties of the launchers as they did.

"Ready." Ginnael said in a sharp tone that spoke of intense concentration.

"Destroy!" shouted Ramien.

Ginnael pressed the trigger of her weapon, and a streak of white and golden light flashed in the night, accompanied by a loud roar, followed by a yellow fireball erupting at the center of the Coalition positions. The transmitter blew apart, the delicate instrumentation suddenly exposed to the fury of an armor piercing rocket. Ramien waited for half a heartbeat to see if Ginnael's shot had connected, then fired his own launcher, hitting one of the LAV's on the nose, their shots less than three seconds apart. The force of his shot was tremendous. What was left of the nose of the LAV that he had shot was flung upwards, the machine balancing on its rear wheels for a moment, then clumsily tumbling sideways onto the sand, the fuel catching fire as it landed.

While still confused and somewhat uncoordinated, the Coalition infantry soon began to respond to the attack, filling the night with flashes and loud barks of assault rifle as the northerners returned fire. Ramien quickly grabbed his own rifle and sighted down on one of the dark silhouettes in the gloom of the burning LAV. After a few moments of aiming he squeezed off a shot, his gun giving a slightly duller metallic bark than that of the northerner guns, and one of the figures collapsed. It did not get up again. Beside him Ginnael fired her gun as well, and another enemy fell. They continued in this manner for a while, exchanging fire with the Coalition soldiers. In the darkness of the night it was extremely difficult to score hits, but both sides were giving it their best attempt, firing at the muzzle flares of the other side, making the opposing combatants flinch and curse at near misses. As they recovered from the initial surprise, the response of their enemy became more and more organized, and the fire against the positions of the two Gaalsien soldiers grew more intense. They began to work in pairs, one firing shots of suppressing fire while the other advanced to a new point of cover. One soldier rushed forward, making to throw a grenade at their position. Ramien and Ginnael both saw him and their guns spat several volleys of death at him and he fell over in mid run, the grenade in his hands rolling away without exploding, although Ramien could not be sure whose kill it was. The turret of the surviving LAV turned, orienting itself toward them. Two balls of strobing white light appeared in the darkness, raising hundreds of small puffs of sand into the air all around them, forcing the both of them to hug the dune or be riddled with holes.

It was then that Ramien heard a very familiar humming sound coming from behind him and his mouth spread into a wide toothed grin. Their ship had arrived at last! From the shouts of alarm he could hear it was obvious that their enemies had noticed the situation as well (as if their ship was hard to notice in the first place).

Before anyone could say or do anything further, the ship opened fire, spitting a storm of high explosive shells into the air, the northerner positions disappearing in a cloud of dust and shrapnel, illuminated by flashes of light within the cloud. When the rumble of explosion finally ceased Ramien carefully raised his head from the ground to take a look at the results, the details revealing themselves as the fog of dust dispersed. The remaining LAV had been blasted to pieces, only the blackened, twisted skeleton of its frame remained. The bodies of the heretic foot soldiers were nowhere to be seen, although he could just make several dark stains in the night at roughly were they had been. Liquefied by the explosions he realized, astonished. He had seen it happen before, but each time he was just as disturbed and amazed by the sheer strength of modern weapons as he had been the first time. For a moment a stunned silence reigned, broken only by the soft humming of their assault ship.

Ginnael was the first to react. "Yeah, that got em!" she shouted, standing up raising a fist into the air, cheering. Ramien could not help but smile at her enthusiasm. She always had been full of energy that one. He too stood up and addressed the other members of his crew: "Nice timing guys, and good shooting! Adrimas, are we clear?"

"Yes, sir, I'm not seeing anything else out there." Adrimas said, sounding insufferably smug like he often did after a successful battle. "Looks like the mission was quick, dirty and one-sided, just how I like them." Ramien was about to respond when he spoke up again, the lightness gone from his voice: "Hold on… correction to the last, a new contact just entering sensor range, IFF says hostile ground contact, coming bearing north-northwest, coming in towards our position. Looks like a type four contact based on the ping."

Type four meant a contact of roughly the size of their own ship, an AAV, a missile launcher, or even…

Quickly Ramien turned to speak to Ginnael: "Gin, get down, type four incoming" he said in a hurried tone, never realizing he had used her nickname, something they avoided doing outside crew leave because of mutual agreement. She did not realize it either, but instead sprang into action, getting on the ground as she had been told. Ramien did the same, taking his binoculars to his hands, looking into the direction Adrimas had said the new contact was coming from.

Beside him, Ginnael gave him a look of startled worry. "That better be an AAV. Tell me that's an AAV!" she said, hoping against all hope.

"No, that's…" Ramien said, the words stolen from his throat as a wave of coldness washed over him. He recognized the design: the relatively low, compact hull on a trio of treads with the enormous long-barreled turret on the top, glowing softly with blue light. In the gloom he could see the human shapes, advancing in a single line on both sides of the vehicle. Even as he saw this the light of the gun barrel began to grow brighter. There was an electronic buzz in the air that rapidly rose in pitch as the gun built up the charge to fire.

"Railgun! Evade! Ev…" He had time to shout into his radio before the gun fired, stealing the air from his lungs. There was a flash of blue-white light followed instantly by a thunderclap as the shot passed overhead. A blast of air hit him like a curtain, threatening to take him with it. The visor of his helmet cracked and broke, the internal diagnostics lights flickering out. If not for the inbuilt electronic sound suppressors of their helmets, both he and Ginnael would have been deaf and senseless afterwards, their eardrums ruptured by the change in air pressure. The shot had overshot their ship, impacting into the sands somewhere in the distance.

With an angry motion Ramien tore the broken visor from his face, tossing it on the sand, leaving him with the helmet proper and his radio. "Save the ship, we'll catch up! Go, go, go!" He shouted into his radio waving at them to get them to leave. Either they heard him or they decided to leave on their own because their assault ship rapidly retreated, seeking cover behind other nearby dunes.

"What are we going to do boss!?" Ginnael asked of him.

"Get your launcher reloaded!" He commanded as his answer, already beginning to work on his own launcher.

Ginnael looked confused: "What… ye don't mean…with rockets? The armor is too thick! We might as well be trying to kill it with coarse language!"

"I know, but if we want to get out alive we have to try something don't we!?" he replied.

"Guess so, damn it all!" She said, taking her launcher into her hands. "Sajuuk, as tests of faith go, this one is outright unfair you know!" She shouted to the sky angrily as she reloaded her weapon. "Set!" she shouted after a few moments.

"Up…destroy!" Ramien commanded and for the second time that night a pair of rockets streaked through the air. Ramien's shot struck a glancing blow against the side armor, corkscrewing harmlessly away, causing some of the Coalition heretics to duck instinctively. Ginnael scored a direct hit against the frontal plating, but as predicted, the rocket did not break through the armor, leaving behind only a blackened dent. "Reload!" Ramien shouted as the heretic railgun continued its implacable advance.

He was about to fire again when he saw that the glow of the railgun began to intensify again, the gun pointing straight at them.

"Look out!" he shouted throwing himself to the left while Ginnael dove to the right. The section of dune between them blew inwards, nearly burying the both of them alive in the sand.

Coughing and spitting sand out of his mouth, he looked around himself for his rocket launcher. He found it on the ground, now twisted into an L-shape. "Damn it, my launcher is busted!" he shouted "Gin, what about you?"

"Mine is still working but I'm down to my last reload!" She replied "This isn't working!" She added with a hint of desperation in her voice.

Ramien could only agree. It was unlikely that this rocket would do more damage than the prior ones, and once it was gone there would be nothing more they could do. If the railgun didn't kill them first, the enemy infantry would finish them off.

It was then he noticed what might be their one last shred of hope. "Wait!" He shouted to Ginnael, who stopped just short of firing their last rocket.

"See that mound of sand?" He said, pointing it out with his hand. "Wait for it to start climbing over it, aim for the bottom plates."

Ginnael nodded nervously, making herself ready to fire.

"Hold…hold…" He said in a calm voice, holding up his hand for emphasis. The railgun reached the mound of sand and began to rise, its treads lifting its hull higher… higher, bringing that brief moment of vulnerability closer.

Anxiety made Ginnael shout a long, wordless shout between clenched teeth.

"…fire!" Ramien shouted, and their final hope roared through the air with what seemed like an eternity. This time there was no mighty explosion, no ball of fire. There was a loud *thud* and a small flash of flame near the point of impact, the railgun giving a slight shudder. Slowly, reluctantly the machine lurched over the lip of the dune and landed nose first on the ground, the main gun twisting under the machine's own weight. Ramien shot Ginnael a relieved smile, cut short by a bullet whizzing past them. The enemy infantry had been charging forward the entire time they had been struggling to kill the railgun. Now they were arriving at the range of their rifles.

"Ok, let's get out of here, run!" he shouted to Ginnael, and the both of them ran and slid down the dune as fast as they could. They ran, zigzagging and dodging in erratic patterns to give the enemy no easy target. The Northerners followed, filling the air with gunfire. He could see the light of firing rifles as they lit the darkness in brief flashes. He could hear the bullets whistling past, the patter they made as they impacted the sand around them, could feel the hot passes of near misses. Then he heard a sound he had never thought he would hear, had never wanted to: a wet splat, followed by Ginnael giving a strangled gasp of pain. He turned, seeing Ginnael stumble forward a step, holding her right side with both hands, then collapsing face first onto the sand.

"Gin!" Ramien shouted, running to her, heedless of incoming bullets, kneeling beside her when he reached her.

"What ye think ye are doing!? Leave, save yerself!" She tried to protest weakly.

Ramien would not hear a word of it. "Shut up, Gin, no one is getting left behind, now hold on!" He said, lifting her over onto his shoulders, trying to carry her away. She was slight of build, but still too heavy to carry while under fire. It was not long before he was forced to lower her down again, taking cover behind a small mound of sand, trying to cover his friend with his own body. He loosed a few blind shots in the general direction of the enemy, resulting in an even more intense shower of return fire as the enemy took position on a nearby dune. The situation was intolerable. There was not enough cove for the both of them. Either a lucky shot would get them, or the enemy would smarten up and flank them or throw a grenade into their position, and then it would be all over. The volume of fire was intense, impacts raining all over the place, many of them hitting rather far from the place they were hiding he noted. The damned bastards probably had not realized there were just two of them, otherwise they would have concentrated their fire and wiped them out. He already knew this illusion would not last. The constant, cacophonic thunder of gunfire made it impossible to focus, to think. They were trapped. Even if Ginnael had not been hurt, they could not run away without being gunned down, and if they tried to surrender odds were they would kill the both of them anyway as revenge for the damage they had done. This looked like the end…

Just as he had made his peace with the fact that he would be meeting Sajuuk in a few moments, the unthinkable happened. A large shape charged into view, coming from behind the sand dunes with breakneck speed. With astonishment he recognized the familiar shape of his assault ship, carried through the air like one of Sajuuk's spirits of salvation. As it flew through the air it swerved, both guns spitting fire and death in a wide line across the enemy positions. To their credit the heretic soldiers tried to disengage and seek cover, but it was already too late. The lip of the dune they were on disappeared in a wave of exploding sand blossoms, devouring the enemy soldiers with it, tossing those few that remained in view around like ragdolls. Of the enemy none survived. Ramien had simply stared and watched the scene unfold, still in disbelief at the unexpected rescue.

The assault ship stopped, a hatch popped open and the head of Adrimas came into view. "We came back as soon as we realized what you managed to do! Holy damn but you actually took down a railgun with rocket fire! I can't believe it…"

"Ginnael is hurt, get over here and help her!" Ramien cut him off, while at the same time removing her helmet so she could breathe more easily. She was pale, sweaty and barely conscious, but still breathing. Without saying another word Adrimas clambered out of the hatch and ran to them, and together they carried her to the ship. Once inside they seated her into her chair, the only area of free space readily available. While T'rel was driving, Adrimas went looking for an emergency aid kit, and Ramien removed Ginnael's coat and rolled back her shirt go get a better look at her wound. What he saw made him gasp. On her right side at roughly the area of her ribs there was a large hole of ragged flesh and shattered bone, still bleeding heavily, her life fluid pouring out with a lazy flow, staining everything it touched in dark red. It was a miracle that she was even still alive.

"That bad huh?" Ginnael commented dryly having noticed his expression. She was strangely calm, without even a hint of pain or distress on her features.

"No, not at all. It will be alright, it's… just a scratch. Try not to talk." He said quickly, failing to convince even himself.

Ginnael gave a weak smile. "Ye are a terrible liar, did ye know that?" "We did alright didn't we?" She asked after a moment, sadness creeping into her voice.

"We did wonderfully, better than anyone else could have done." Ramien replied, trying to keep his voice from breaking.

"Do you think they'll give us medals? To all of us?" She wondered.

"I'll make sure of it" Ramien promised with determination in his voice.

"Good" Ginnael said simply. She raised her hand on his cheek, and instinctively his hand rose to hers, gently holding her hand against his cheek, ignoring the bloody handprint her touch left behind. "I'll miss our arguments" she said, a single tear running down her face.

"We'll have more, Y-you'll see." Ramien said with watered eyes. Ginnael made a strange sound at that. He could not tell whether she was crying or laughing. "You like lying to yerself, boss? That's where ye and I are different. I don't lie to myself. Never…saw the point" She said, and no sooner had she said that when her breathing became slower and more heavy. Her eyes closed and her head slumped against the headrest of her chair. Her hand became limp in his grip. She was not breathing anymore…

"No, nonono, look at me Gin, wake up, you have to wake up! Don't you dare do this to me, don't you dare die!" He shouted in a panic, shaking her still form, trying desperately to wake her.

Adrimas came up behind him, taking a hold of his shoulders to calm him. "Boss…boss…boss! She's gone." He shouted, calmly but firmly, trying to get through to him. Finally he calmed.

He stood up, took several shaky steps backward, and slumped into his chair, burying his head in his hands. For a long time he said nothing. "May Sajuuk accept her soul." he finally spoke.

"Sajuuk accept her soul." echoed the other two crewmen in the ship, bowing their head in respect.

"We need to go home, report, and make sure she is… taken care of." Ramien said in a colorless tone, overwhelmed by his emotions.

"Way ahead of you sir, we already on our way." T'rel said with empathy in his voice. Indeed they had been moving as soon as they had come aboard, Ramien had simply not noticed it.

As they drove through the desert, the other two crewmen gave him a respectful space, leaving him in his thoughts. They could not fully appreciate his feelings and they knew it as well. Ginnael and he had been friends for many years, an inseparable team. Other crew members had come and gone, but they had always been here, a constant on the shifting histories of this small ship. There had been no enemy they would not dare face down together. And now she was gone, killed in a manner so casual it was insulting, by some heretic soldier that knew nothing of her, had never known her. In killing her they had killed a piece of his soul.

With that thought his mind turned sour. How had they dared to do this? These Kiithless pieces of filth, these worthless riiti! He would make them pay. Sajuuk be his witness, he would take his vengeance upon them. He would make sure they would know and share the pain of his loss a hundredfold. He would make the sands themselves red with their blood. There, in the quietness of his dark thoughts, he promised himself retribution, he swore eternal vengeance upon the northerners, a vow spoken and witnessed only in the corners of his mind. From this point forward he would commit himself to their destruction, until his vengeance was sated or he would run out of enemies. In that single moment, something broke deep inside him, something that should have never been broken.

And thus the great war poisoned yet another once noble soul with hatred…