CHAPTER 11/XI

The battery was still several kilometres off, but from the forested hilltop, they could see its great barrel clawing at the horizon. It boomed once, and the world's edge glowed for a brief moment. Seconds later, the trees around them swayed as the winded fled from the sound. Snow fell from what branches still held it.

They would have to time their approach carefully. Being near an anti-orbital flak cannon during firing was inadvisable, to say the least. The roar of the steel beast reminded Taldeer of the ocean. There was a storm in the distance. Clouds had begun gathering hours ago. It had yet to reach the shore, but the foamy chop was marching ever closer.

There was some comfort to be found in the situation. The woods would probably be safe. There may be the odd Ork, broken away from the Waaagh. But the trees were thick enough to hide in, and nobody else was present. This much Taldeer could tell.

LIIVI twitched. He began looking around. "LIIVI, what are y-" Then she heard it. A whistling, a shrieking, a screaming sound. Quiet, but growing ever louder, closer. The wind of the warp carried a whiff of thought. A mind, a war mask. "Eldar."

Hope at last.

"I- I think it's my people." She beamed. "Maybe I can call out to them, maybe. . . " There was a faint buzzing now. Auto-cannon fire. A pop, like a distant firework. The war mask was clearer, Masks. There were many. There was a warlock, but something was amiss. One was unmasked. And that one was consumed by fear.

"Wait. . . "

The distant scream quickly morphed into a mighty roar. 100 meters to their left, a smoking Vampire Raider struggled to maintain altitude, pursued by three Thunderbolt Fighters. The Fates laughed mockingly as a great breaker met a cliff face, splashing high.

"No no no no no no no NO NO NO!" Taldeer watched in wide-eyed horror as the magnificent Eldar war machine dipped slightly further, clipping the tree tops, spraying snow and steam. Now rapidly losing speed, it sank into the deep embrace of the woods, rolling and carving a path of destruction.

Another precious work requiring ages to grow, all undone by the fierce determination of the humans. A litany of curses ran from her lips. Tears welled in her eyes. She grimaced and fell to her knees. "Why?"

The Farseer stared at the path of fallen trees and sniffed. Sparks flew off the distant wreckage. Her self-pity was short-lived. She stood up, shaken but resolute. "There may be survivors. We need to save them."

The waves tugged at her legs, beckoning her out to sea. Thunder of the storm cracked in the distance, echoing like the steam explosions of snow on the engines.

Fire was always less impressive in the daytime. Madek sipped his coffee as the village burned on the horizon. They had to take a little detour on account of that mess. No matter.

"Sir," Felix piped from below. "The Navy reports that an enemy troop transport was downed in the area of operations." "Eldar, sir."

"Hm." Madek sighed. "This changes things. The witch he's travelling with could use the communications systems to call for help, if they're still functioning. Worse, there may be survivors.

"What was their mission, Felix? Do we know, or have any educated guesses?" "Before taking evasive manoeuvres, their vector was a beeline for an orbital battery, sir."

"Undoubtedly trying to clear an escape vector for their fleet," Madek humph. "The death of the Farseer and the Vindicare assuredly take priority, but we would do well to prevent the escape of the other Xenos. What men do we have in reserve?"

"None sir," Ardrin barked, "All troops are currently preoccupied with a mop-up operation against the Orks. The Governor Militant hopes to avoid an infestation, so he's prioritizing their destruction."

"You truly have none in reserve?" Madek scowled as he eyed Ardrin, as though some sort of trick was being played on him. "I'm afraid they were incinerated last night, sir."

No mirth leaked from Ardrin's mind onto his face. But Madek knew it was there.

"Oh for the love of the throne." The inquisitor massaged his temple. He had to choose. The Orks, or the Eldar witch and assassin traitor?

Pursuing the Orks was a prudent decision on Alexander's behalf. A greenskin infestation was nothing to laugh about.

Madek sighed. "Very well, I have no desire to forever sully a world recently saved in the Emperor's name. Release Terra and her associates from the brig. Dispatch them to the orbital battery as is. It's less than ideal, but it's better than nothing."

There was a momentary pause. "I will return to the battle barge and supervise operations from there. My personal guard will join the hunt. Have the Valkyrie meet us en route to the spaceport. And order the Valkyrie to pick up the Eversor if it isn't already close to the targets."

"It will be done."

Taldeer was slightly short of breath. But only slightly. Now standing at the beginning of the newfound clearing, she could see hesitant heads poking out of the transport as the Thunderbolts departed. The Farseer couldn't help but smile through the pain of exertion.

"There are survivors."

Slowly they stepped out of the wreckage. A Fire Dragon. . . and then another. The first Fire Dragon stayed by the entrance, beckoning the others out. A Ranger emerged, carrying two rifles and what appeared to be the corpse of another ranger. A Striking Scorpion. . . a Guardian. . . a Warlock. . . the

Fire Dragon gestured towards the Warlock - move to the front of the craft. Was he in charge? Another Scorpion and Guardian stepped out. All told it was a small squad, but this sort of composition was typically what was used for infiltration or demolition. It seems like most of them survived.

Had Taldeer paid attention, she would have noticed a moment's hesitation in LIIVI. "You want to approach them," he asked?

But she was already sprinting.

Seek. Hate.

Hate. Seek.

Of the multitude of sensors attached to the Eversor, most are for combat. Few are for tracking. An eversor is to be delivered into the heat of battle, targets positioned right in front of it.

Staring into the burnt-out crater littered with ork corpses, it was hard to believe any evidence had survived the firestorm. The trail had gone cold. The eversor leapt into the trench and stamped its foot in frustration, sending cracks ripping all through the baked clay.

It sulked as it strolled, eyes following one of the cracks, claws scraping the wall, waiting. Waiting for something.

That's when it saw it. Footprints. Not guardsman, not ork, and not space marine. Leading to a bunker.

Perfect.

It took off in a running sprint.

The Vindicare temple teaches that there are few standard soldiers as dangerous as the Eldar Aspect Warriors. They may have hundreds of years of combat experience and can be counted on to perform their role with exceptional prowess. Any emotional instability which could affect their judgment is nullified by their war mask. They are, for almost all intents and purposes, perfectly rational killing machines.

In a squad, they are to be avoided, unless preoccupied with forces allied with the Vindicare. A single combatant can be dispatched, but the shot must not miss. And these are of course the broader notes. Each aspect must be

dealt with differently.

Fire Dragons were simple to deal with. Combat sappers and explosive ordnance experts; they were primarily concerned with vehicles. Snipers like the Vindicare were not their prey, and any attempt to counter snipe using their armament would only illuminate their position. Wait until they are preoccupied with an armoured target, or fulfilling their role as a sapper, then take the shot. If one has to engage alone, use misdirection to confuse them and have them focus their fire on false positions while you move from one location to the next, picking them off as you go.

Striking Scorpions were close-range melee combatants, with firearms limited to short ranges. They would be easy to dispatch, were it not for their skill in stealth and infiltration. Almost always working in pairs, they could handily exploit the landscape to their advantage. If they were known to be operating in the area, then the vindicare must keep one eye on his back at all times. Leaving false trails and limiting potential flanking routes were essential to survival.

Rangers are a monumental pain to deal with. They may not be aspect warriors, and they may not be as disciplined as the other Eldar, but they're still snipers par excellence. Their rifles are limited only by the psychic power of their wielder. They do not have to reload. Being a warp-driven laser, it does not suffer from projectile drop, and enjoys exceptional range for a laser weapon. The aim stabilization and targeting systems make shooting on the move quite easy.

It's a marvellously idiot-proof device that even a green recruit could use to great success. This makes it all the more frightening in the hands of somebody who may have been shooting for hundreds of years. Tactics vary with terrain and situation, but in general, duels can take many days and would require every ounce of a Vindicare's training.

Guardians are little more than civilians as soldiers. A Warlock provides their masks, and without their Warlock, they were just better than fodder. A Warlock itself is a potent psyker, and should not be underestimated - if a Witchblade wielding warlock gets near you, you're as good as dead, no doubt soon to be incinerated by a powerful blast of warp fire or lightning.

Despite their differences, all strategies for dealing with these opponents shared one common feature, a fundamental component of the Vindicare Dictum: Maintain range.

This feature could not be found in the present strategy. LIIVI was honed not to feel fear. But as he approached the squad of Eldar, weapons raised at him, he noted an unfamiliar, unsettling sensation nagging at him. It faded as he drew closer to Taldeer's side.

But only slightly.