46: Siege

"How do I look?" Elsie offered Natalia a smile, although to the Russian Staff Sergeant it appeared forced. She had known Lieutenant Rhodes for several months now, and so far, she had determined that she liked to joke around, even if the situation was not optimal. If anything, she tended to make more jokes the worse things were. Natalia supposed that this was almost typical for an Australian, even if she had known very few of them during her lifetime.

They were in the infirmary, and Elsie was seated on the side of one of the beds inside the sterile white and grey environment. The makalvari doctor, Rol'kal, was present. He was mulling over a terminal nearby, having used the scanner by the bed to get some readings from Elsie. At the other end of the room, the makalvari pilot had been sedated, with his legs having been smothered with some form of blue gel that Natalia assumed was something to assist with overall healing and disinfecting purposes. The female nurse was there, tending to the wounded pilot, adjusting the level of drugs being pumped into his system. Rol'kal had mentioned something earlier about needing to operate on the pilot's legs.

"You look fine, Lieutenant," Natalia said. Elsie's bandages had been removed, revealing the bloodied cuts and gashes that marred the left-hand side of her face and continued as far down as the side of her neck. Where her left eye had been was instead a nasty, bloodied gash that oozed a mix of blood and pus. Elsie looked to Natalia, doubt clear on her face.

"I thought Russians were better liars than that," Elsie remarked. A joke, even if one might have easily taken it the wrong way.

"No, I think our capacity for convincing lies went out with the Soviet Union." Natalia gave the Lieutenant a reassuring smile. "The doctor here, he'll fix you up."

"I'll do what I can," Rol'kal said, and he turned away from his console to regard the pair. "As it stands, your scans are good. No lasting internal damage, anyway."

"With all due respect, doctor, but is human anatomy your field?" Elsie meant it as an innocent question, and for a moment there Rol'kal might have been offended. However, his expression eased, and the grey plume of feathers on his head visibly relaxed.

"As a matter of fact, Lieutenant, I am one of the foremost experts on human physiology from my world. That's part of the reason I was sent here. We haven't too many worlds in our possession that have human populations, so it's something of a niche subject." He paused, before something like a smile crept upon his beak-like mouth. "In all honesty, I specialised in human physiology because I wished to find a means to better fight the Goa'uld. After all, they favoured your species as hosts above all others. We had problems with them along the edges of our domain for many years."

"Until recently, I'll bet."

"Yes, well, you Earth people did the galaxy a service. At the same time, it also put me at something of a disadvantage, as my services were no longer as in demand as they had been previously." He did not sound sour about it, rather there was a wry underlying edge to his voice that suggested no ill will. "Now, Lieutenant Rhodes, I need to clean up that eye socket of yours. Whatever's left of the eye needs to come out, and with it gone I can sew it closed."

"You haven't got any artificial eyes around?" She asked him. It was a stretch, but there was no harm in asking.

"Not here, and even back home we wouldn't have anything of the sort for human beings. It's something you would have to ask the Major about, maybe he can organize something with your superiors. In exchange for something from your people, of course."

"Of course," Elsie added, her voice souring.

"I would like to help you more, Lieutenant, but for now you'll have to do with one eye. It shouldn't take long."

"That might have to wait." It was John's voice, and it sounded from the infirmary entrance. All heads turned to him, and he strode inside with a somewhat uneasy gait. "Every able-bodied fighter needs to report topside. We're about to be attacked. I don't mean to put you in any more pain than you're already in, Lieutenant, but we need everyone we can get."

Rol'kal frowned, and Natalia saw the way in which his head plume rippled. He was annoyed, from what she could tell, and his gravelly voice adopted an aggravated edge when he spoke next:

"Colonel Sheppard, this woman needs proper treatment. The longer we wait…"

"I'll be fine," Elsie said, and she slid off of the bed and put her feet upon the floor. "Just hit me with some painkillers or something, give me some fresh bandages." She turned to John, who appeared uncomfortable, no doubt having been unwilling to plunge her straight back into the fight. Rol'kal let out a resigned sigh, before he moved to a cabinet at the nearby wall and pulled it open. From inside, he retrieved a small vial as well as a shining metal injector gun of sorts. Whilst he filled this with the appropriate level of pain relief, his nurse came over and began sorting out some clean bandages.

"How do I look, sir?" Elsie asked him. John gave her a small smile, the best he could muster at that time.

"You're still alive, aren't you?" A clever deflection, but a deflection nonetheless. Elsie probably saw through it, but she returned his smile.

"With the way this night is going, sir, we might not be for much longer. I mean, who's attacking us?"

"Who do you think?"

Elsie suddenly found herself being gently nudged towards the bed. The nurse was in front of her, bandages ready. The Lieutenant allowed the makalvari female to apply the dressings, with the most prominent one doused with the cooling blue gel that sent a sharp stinging pain through her skull as it was pressed against the remains of her left eye. The doctor was at her side then, and he jabbed the injector into her neck, another quick, sharp poke indicating that she had just been hit with something potent. Not enough to knock her on her backside, but certainly enough to send the pain in her skull from a sharp sear to something dull, throbbing and only just evident at the edges of her senses.

"Is it the insurgents?" Natalia asked. She had expected something of the sort to happen, as soon as they came to the city. The streets were in chaos, buildings burning and people looting. Law and order had collapsed, and now opportunists such as Gorum Kavul reigned. Her father, an officer in the Russian Army, had told her of something similar that had happened in Moscow in 1993; their own President had ordered the parliamentary building shelled in response to it being taken over by dissenting lawmakers. The politics of it all was complicated, and she had been only three at the time. However, she suspected even those events paled in comparison to what was happening here in Kelowna. This was no politically motivated revolution; there were other forces at work here, and this had been made clear from what Jonas and Daniel had found below that mountain.

"A whole lot of them. They're going to try and steamroll us. We've got maybe minutes to get ready." John's voice adopted a more urgent tone. "Come on, Sergeant." He then glanced to Elsie. "And Lieutenant, are you good to go?"

"I'll be fine, sir." Elsie lifted herself off of the bed again. Her voice sounded more confident, the reduction in pain having worked wonders. "Just tell me where to go and who to shoot."

"I won't need to tell you, Lieutenant. There'll be no shortage of targets out there."

Daniel found Jonas seated in the shadow of one of the smaller subsidiary buildings, not far from the eastern perimeter wall. He was on a single foldup chair that, presumably, one of the resident soldiers had left there. There was no one else within the immediate vicinity, with the resident soldiers busy taking up defensive positions along the compound walls.

Jonas appeared grim; his eyes were downcast as he pored through his own troubled thoughts. Daniel approached him, getting a glance as he neared.

"Jonas, are you all right?" As the one member of the team who had known Jonas the longest, Daniel felt almost obligated to ask that question. They were friends, even if they had spent many years apart. Friendships forged in fire were not so easily broken.

"Not really." Jonas gave him a wry smile. "Are you?"

"That's a complicated answer," Daniel replied, and he stopped a few paces to Jonas' right. "After what happened in there, I thought you could do with someone to talk to. Someone who isn't Gorum Kavul."

Jonas nodded his head in understanding. About the compound, things were quiet. Almost too quiet, in Daniel's view. He did not say as much out loud if only to avoid sounding clichéd.

"He's insane," Jonas said suddenly. Daniel realised right away he was referring to Kavul. "These Void Demons have sent him off the deep end. And these makalvari, they don't care about Langara. They were just using my people to get their naquadria."

"We'll stop Kavul."

"And then what? We've still got whatever's going on at that mountain. Something's happening out there and it's not going to stop." Jonas sounded convinced of this and Daniel could only agree. Soon enough, that unnatural red storm, that atmospheric phenomenon that betrayed understanding, would be creeping its way towards this very city. What would happen once it hit the population centres? How many more would die?

"We'll stop that, too. We've been up against worse."

"We'll stop it, but at what cost?" Jonas' optimism was gone, replaced with something almost despairing. It pained Daniel to see him like this, and he knew all about what Jonas had lost since he had returned to Langara after spending a year on SG-1 all those years ago. A wife and daughter, gone. Friends killed in the fight against the Ori. He had fought to save his world and to unify it, only for that unification to come undone. And then the makalvari had come in, promising so much in return for the naquadria they needed. No wonder Jonas was so bitter, as he had fought for so long and had lost so much only to see it all come apart at the seams.

"Jonas, no matter what happens here, you know that you've got a home on Earth. And you've got people there you can trust."

Jonas gave him another small, if subdued, smile.

"I know, Daniel, and I'm grateful. I always will be. But this is home, this here." He pointed to the ground between his feet. "Kelowna, Langara, this city. These streets, no matter how chaotic they get are the streets I've known since I was a child. The hills up north, those are hills I used to trek with my father when I was young. The constellations you see above us are the same ones I was gazing at when I was only a child, lying in the backyard wondering what was out there. And I found out, didn't I?"

"Yeah, I was the same." Daniel had to admit, finding out all about the terrible things that lurked amongst the stars had certainly changed his perspective on some matters.

Footsteps sounded from nearby then, and both men turned to find Aithris approaching. The Nomad had his rifle slung around his shoulder, and he offered the pair a warm smile.

"Sorry to interrupt, but we're about to be attacked." The Nomad's honesty often translated into outright bluntness. "We're needed on the walls."

Jonas rose from his chair. His expression was firm, his overall demeanour suggestive of someone with a very clear plan of action in mind. As if to emphasise this, he picked up the makalvari plasma carbine he had left leaning against the wall by the chair and flicked off its safety. The weapon let out a warning whine, charging itself into a state to fire.

"Go to the southern approach," Aithris said. "Looks like they're gathering on all sides."

Jonas nodded in acknowledgment. He turned to Daniel, who had unslung his own plasma carbine from about his shoulder. There would be time to talk later, it seemed, or rather if they happened to survive the fight that was to come.

Each makalvari outpost, be it a military base or an embassy, was granted one standard subspace antenna array. These were the most sophisticated pieces of communications technology ever made by the makalvari, more of a recent design that had been derived from the research devoted to the subspace bomb itself. These arrays were often small, little more than grey metal dishes connected to a base within which the power supply and other intricate workings were housed. Generally, these were used for direct communication with the home world and were powerful enough that such transmissions could be carried out in real time regardless of the vast interstellar distances involved. This time around, however, Kav'rak intended to reach someone he knew as a lot closer to Langara than the home world was.

Normally, the use of such a device was restricted, but as Kav'rak was the ranking officer here he had no problems making use of the embassy's subspace array. It was located on the roof of the embassy building itself, situated under a simple metal shelter and seemingly put aside and forgotten about. The Ambassador would make his regular reports to the home world with it, but otherwise it never saw much use beyond that.

Kav'rak was alone up here under the night sky, and as he knelt by the antenna, he felt a chill breeze waft across the rooftop. The air was filled with the stink of smoke, and looking about at the surrounding neighbourhood he could see multiple columns of it rising high above the city. Fires raged out of control, a sure indicator that law and order had broken down within the city limits.

Kav'rak made use of the small, portable computer connected to the subspace array. With it, he could tune the communicator such that he could direct his call to the ship he knew to be in orbit. He placed the headset to his ears, opening a channel as soon as he was sure the frequency was set.

"Brigade Leader Tav'kar, I know you're there." He paused, narrowing his eyes. "And I know you can hear me. Very few other things on this planet can, but I know your ship's systems will have no problems detecting this call." Were the Langarans jamming the airwaves? Surely even they could not block a subspace transmission? Regardless, someone was bound to hear it, giving the sheer distances such a transmission could cross in a short time.

There followed a long pause. Kav'rak could imagine Tav'kar up there, debating with himself as to whether he should answer or not. As an officer of the Republic of Makvar, it was the Brigade Leader's duty to answer a call for help from another such officer. Of course, he was not necessarily obligated to offer any assistance.

"I know you can hear me, Brigade Leader." Kav'rak leaned back, resting against the short wall behind him. By his side, the subspace communicator emitted quiet, regular beeps.

"You've come here, but if you're not here to help us then I must ask, why even come?" Kav'rak looked up, gazing towards the night sky in the north. "Have you come to watch me die? Because many good men will die with me, and their blood will be on your hands."

"Major, I had no idea you had such a flair for the dramatic." Tav'kar's voice sounded through the headset then, as clear as if he was standing right next to Kav'rak. The Major managed a wry smirk, pleased to have finally received a response.

"You heard my question, Brigade Leader. Why have you come, if not to render assistance?"

"We came to offer our aid, at least at first. Now, however, it appears you have yourself a mysterious atmospheric phenomenon that is slowly expanding over a sizeable portion of the north of the very continent you're on. The probes we have sent into it have not returned any telemetry, so we can only surmise that the contents of that storm are detrimental in nature. Given the presence of a virulent plague on Langara, as detailed in the more recent reports, I cannot in good sense transport you and your people onto this vessel."

Kav'rak had expected some sort of excuse. Nonetheless, hearing it only made him mad. He clenched his jaw, taking a moment to ponder just how he might respond. Before he could say anything further, Tav'kar continued speaking:

"I know you have humans down there, Major. The ones from Earth, the ones who saw you succeed on Dalabrai. Did you think you might repeat just such an event? That they might save you from your own overreach and bungling of the Langara assignment?" Tav'kar sounded smug, and imagining the smirk he was likely wearing at this very point only made Kav'rak all the more irritated.

"What do you intend, if you do not wish to assist us?" Kav'rak asked, the gravelly quality in his voice giving way to something closer to a snarl.

"This is an observational assignment, Major. Getting yourself embroiled in some local civil war was not in the mission statement. You will tend to this situation yourself, as I cannot allow the Republic to become even more involved than it already has. And maybe, when it has all settled down, we can work out a way to get you and your people off of that miserable planet?" Tav'kar was enjoying this, there was no doubt in Kav'rak's mind about that.

"I know what you wish to do back home, Brigade Leader. You and your associates."

"And I know that your true loyalties lie not with the people of the Republic, but with yourself. You may claim to be a monarchist, but I know better." Tav'kar ended the call then, providing no opportunity for Kav'rak to respond.

With an angered shout, Kav'rak threw the headset aside. The Brigade Leader was in the advantageous position here, there was no doubt about that. He could claim, when he returned home, that by remaining on the sidelines he had prevented the Republic from plunging into a needless war on Langara. The whole 'Langaran question' was one that had been debated more than once within the 'Makvarsum', or rather the makalvari Parliament, back home. Some would have preferred to cut all ties with the troublesome human world altogether, and indeed Tav'kar fell firmly into that camp. He could blame everything that had gone wrong on Langara upon Kav'rak and he would have an easy time of doing so if Kav'rak was dead. After all, a dead man could hardly defend himself before a parliamentary inquiry.

That was why it was all the more pertinent that Kav'rak not get killed. He was going to get out of this mess, no matter what it took. Up there, high in orbit was Tav'kar, no doubt using his ship's sensors and surveillance capabilities to keep a close eye on what went on down below. And maybe, just maybe there was a chance he would try and take the embassy out himself. Of course, the other officers on that ship might not let him do that but there was no way to be sure. Down here, they were all living on borrowed time. With his political rival up above and the insurgents all around, Kav'rak was starting to have some serious doubts that he might get out of this one.

Sometimes he wondered why he got caught up in the politicking game back home. Whenever he felt such doubts, he would instead think back to his father, the former Captain of the Royal Guard, who had lived for the Emperor and spent every waking moment of his life doing the Emperor's bidding. A true believer in the system, in the idea that there was one makalvari imbued with the divine right to lead all others. Kav'rak had taken that on board, even if his own beliefs had diverted slightly. After all, with no Emperor next in line and a senile old Regent on the throne, a new leader was required. And he could not allow it to be Tav'kar and his cronies. The subspace bomb was to have been his contingency, something he might have used to gain political favour or even to outright intimidate those who threatened him. Tav'kar had confiscated the prototype and the research materials, according to the last call from the lead researcher.

Now Kav'rak rose to his feet, directing his gaze further up, towards the dark night sky and the stars spread across it. Tav'kar had his bomb and, on some deep instinctual level, Kav'rak felt that the bomb in question was a lot closer than he had initially assumed it to be.

There were, at most, about fifteen actual makalvari soldiers on the compound. It was a token force, their sole task that of protecting the embassy. This was no army, and from what Aithris could see, a lot of these soldiers were of the variety that had little heart in the fight to come. They would rather be back home with their families than out here, facing off against scores of gun-toting rebels.

Some eyed the Nomad with clear distrust, whereas others paid him little to no attention as he moved his way up the stairs by the main gate and onto the firing platform close to the northern wall's top. From here, one could stand up and shoot over the top, or keep down and be relatively well-protected behind the thick sandstone brick walls. The main gate was shrouded with a portable shield, as were the other entrances. At a glance, it was clear that the embassy was short on sophisticated resources, no doubt because few higher up the chain of command had expected it to come under heavy attack. Either that, or they had simply wished to save money for more pressing concerns. An embassy on far flung Langara hardly seemed worth their time.

Aithris hefted the heavy makalvari rifle with ease. He stood up and propped it upon the wall before him, gazing down its sights and across the clearing ahead. There were some portable lights dotted about the surrounding clearing, mixed in with the long grass, the sandy ditches and the piles of rubble left from the structures that had been standing there before the makalvari had cleared them. This entire tract of land had been purchased from the Kelownan government by the makalvari, allowing them to establish their embassy and to give it a sizeable clearing all round so that any approaching foes would be spotted easily. Of course, the enemy here did not intend on sneaking in. They were gathering for an all-out attack, and they were going to do it from both the northern and southern approaches.

There were apartment tenements beyond the end of the clearing. Groups of Kelownan citizens milled about, some visibly armed, others not. A few pickup trucks were among them. None seemed to be heading their way, but as Aithris watched he saw a good dozen of those loitering on the road back off. Some disappeared into alleyways, others went into the shopfronts there and locked the doors behind them.

John appeared at his left then, joined by Major Kav'rak. The Major appeared visibly frustrated, but he otherwise said nothing and simply took position at the wall as to get a look across the clearing at what they were having to contend with. Aithris looked back towards the inner grounds of the compound. He sighted Jonas and Daniel hurrying for the southern approach, whilst Natalia came bounding up the steps nearby to join him. All had fallen quiet across the neighbouring blocks, as if someone had flicked a switch on the chaos on the streets that had silenced it altogether.

Kav'rak turned to Aithris then, head plume ruffling in the cold breeze.

"What do you see out there?" He asked the Nomad.

Aithris peered down the telescopic sight on the weapon. Some of those armed individuals across the clearing were now moving onto it proper, scattered about its width, keeping low amongst the long grass and rubble. Aithris did a quick count of those he saw, estimating at least twenty. And that was just to start.

"Twenty, at least," he told Kav'rak. Suddenly, the rattle of automatic weapons fire sounded out from somewhere further ahead. Aithris hardly flinched. Kav'rak ducked as did Natalia. None of the shots were directed towards them, however. Rather, more than one of the portable light fixtures scattered across the clearing exploded, glass shattering and sparks flying. Darkness immediately fell in patches across the clearing, and the same started happening all around the embassy. It was almost systematic, the way in which the shooters picked off the light sources. Within moments, the only lights that remained were those on the distant apartment blocks and those within the embassy compound itself.

"Bastards took out the lights," Kav'rak muttered.

"It's what I would do," John stated. He plucked his small pair of field binoculars from a pouch on his vest, before he raised them to his eyes and took a look towards those approaching from the north. They had seemingly stopped amongst the darkness, and Aithris noticed this as well. None of those figures amongst the darkened clearing appeared to be moving any further forward. Adjusting a dial on his rifle's scope, he activated its in-built infrared vision mode. Through that scope, the world before him adopted varying shades of stark green.

"Don't expect too much on the first wave," John continued. "They'll try and probe us first. I'm more worried about what they send after that."

"It doesn't look like they're moving," Aithris said, and he turned to John. The Colonel's expression was firm, and he appeared to be fully focussed on the clearing ahead of them. "Maybe they've changed their minds?"

"I doubt that." Kav'rak sounded confident of this. "Langarans are stubborn, same as the humans of Earth."

"They must be waiting for the go-ahead," John said. From somewhere distant, the sound of an engine became audible. It increased in volume, the source of the sound barrelling towards them. A car, a simple grey sedan, was headed straight for the main gate. A thick cloud of dirt and dust erupted in its wake and the driver, no doubt under a great deal of stress, was struggling to keep the car from simply spinning out. The car clipped the uneven ground made by the previous car bomb that had made a go for the gate the day before, and right at about that moment did Kav'rak give the order:

"Let them have it!" He was taking no chances. Bomb or no bomb, that car was getting too close. The handful of soldiers on the northern wall opened fire, plasma pulses and rail gun shots filling the air downrange, the plasma a brilliant yellow against the dark. Aithris fired a few shots at the speeding car, planting one through the windshield that shattered it. The car swerved, struck a pile of brick rubble and then rolled, side-over-side. It went over at least twice before it came to a rest several metres from the northern wall, overturned with the wheels still spinning and fuel leaking from the tank. The windows were shattered and the driver was apparently dead, the upholstery smeared with blood. Fire suddenly erupted from the spilled fuel, and only seconds later the entire vehicle erupted with a crash, flames blossoming from the fuel tank. Pieces of blackened metal rained down for some distance all around. Aithris tried to get a bearing on the car's interior, if only to see if there was anyone left alive inside. However, the flames quickly filled the wrecked vehicle, burning whoever and whatever was within to a crisp.

The shooting started again, this time from those insurgents scattered throughout the clearing. The rattle of their automatic weapons echoed all around, and bullets pounded against the face of the wall. Kav'rak ducked, bullets clipping the very top of the wall above him and chipping away the sandstone. John had picked up a plasma carbine at some point and he had it raised to his shoulder, eyes down the sights as he peppered the distant enemies with yellow pulse fire. Tracer bullets zipped through the air, and muzzle flashes sparked from amongst the grass and rubble. More gunfire had sounded from the other end of the compound, where Daniel, Jonas, Sha'pek and Hur'par joined forces with the other half of the embassy's contingent of soldiers. They were pouring the fire down onto the enemies now rushing out of the dark, a mix of the young and the old, people in civilian clothes and others in more military-style garb. The people of Kelowna were making their desires clear now: they wanted the alien outsiders gone, and they were willing to do whatever was necessary to achieve it.

Aithris sighted one in his scope, now about twenty metres out and rounding one low pile of brick rubble. A woman, he saw, and he could see her face through the infrared scope almost as clearly if it had been broad daylight. She was young, her features set with a grim determination, the rifle she held seemingly too big for her. And then she stopped, raised it and, in turn, Aithris narrowed his eyes. He willed her to put the gun down, to turn and run, but instead she hit the trigger and sent forth a shot that was responded to. Her aim was well wide of Aithris' position, yet the Nomad put a rail rifle shot through her chest that sent her sprawling lifelessly to the ground.

Now the air about the embassy compound was full of weapons fire, from both sides. There were tracers from the ballistic weapons of the Langarans, and yellow plasma fire from the makalvari side. The cacophony of noise brought on by the bark of the weaponry echoed across the clearing and throughout the surrounding neighbourhood. One of the soldiers on the northern wall fired a flare skywards, and the brilliant blue light erupted a good twenty metres above and cast the northern approach in a wavering illumination. It did well to light up most of the approach, revealing the figures crouched amongst the long grass and the rubble ahead.

Aithris shot down another of the approaching rebels, sending this one sprawling onto a pile of brick rubble about ten metres downrange. Bullets slammed into the outside face of the wall, chips of sandstone flying and dust erupting from each impact. John and the others were pouring fire onto the advancing enemy now, with Kav'rak keeping low as he barked orders at the soldiers scattered along the ledge behind the wall. Someone out on the clearing appeared with some form of disposable missile launcher on their shoulder; the weapon went off in a flash of flame and a blast of smoke, sending the armour-piercing projectile darting forwards with a wispy white contrail being left in its wake. The shot slammed into the main gate, the thump of the blast reverberating throughout the embassy compound. The metal gates were torn from their hinges, a cloud of dust rising forth from the ground below the impact. The shield generator behind the gate absorbed what remained of the force of the hit, the gates gone but the shield itself still standing. There was now a transparent opening that was filled in with the shield, and its blue tones only became more pronounced with each bullet that struck its outside face.

Aithris could see that the rebels currently on the northern clearing were starting to turn and run. Several of them lay dead or wounded across the clearing, both at the north and at the southern approaches. Some sporadic gunfire sounded from further ahead, as the rebels at the rear took potshots at the distant walls, but the shots went mostly wide. John stood up then, watching the fleeing enemy forces with a grim countenance. It may have been a good sign when the enemy turned and ran, but they all knew that this was simply the beginning.

"Cease fire!" He bellowed, using a tone and volume reserved mainly for battlefield conditions. Kav'rak repeated the order, unwilling to allow Colonel Sheppard to be the one in charge here. The order was repeated by others across the compound, and at the southern approach the shooting ceased in turn. A quiet followed, although it was a quiet underlaid by the whistle of the winter breeze that wafted its way through the compound. The groans and cries of the wounded out in the clearing were much more audible now, and Aithris felt some minor pang of regret. He had not wanted it to come to this, not when he knew their real enemies were elsewhere. Nonetheless, he would defend himself like anyone else would. These Langarans had made their decision, and it was simple common sense to respond appropriately.

"They've run off," Kav'rak remarked. John frowned, whilst Aithris lowered his weapon and turned to regard the disparate pair. There was an obvious tension between the two, if only because you had two ranking officers of different militaries (and different species) now attempting to take charge of the same battle. John was the least bothered by this, unsurprisingly; it was Kav'rak who appeared rankled, partly by the Colonel and partly by the fighting itself.

"That was just the first wave," John stated. "They'll be back." He turned to face Kav'rak, his face set in a hard frown. "What about that ship? Did you contact it?" Indeed, the Major and the Ambassador had spoken about having sent word out earlier. Kav'rak appeared momentarily taken off-guard by the question, but he was quick to compose himself.

"The help's not coming," he said.

"What do you mean?"

"It's not coming, Colonel. We're on our own." Aithris could see that Kav'rak was trying his best to deflect the question, no doubt because the real answer was a deeply undesirable one. John scowled, unconvinced.

"You have a ship in orbit. I saw it on your scanners. I heard your operations officer state it very clearly…"

"It's not coming, Colonel. That's it. The interference from that storm in the north is disrupting everything. We'd be lucky if that ship is even able to get a bead on us through the atmospheric disturbances." His voice sounded tight, and Aithris may have guessed he was lying. Or rather, simply omitting some critical piece of information. For now, he kept his mouth shut in this regard. There was enough to worry about without starting an argument with the officer in charge of their makalvari allies.

Aithris' ears perked up then. They were more sensitive than those on a human, and they had detected in that moment a distant and faint whistling noise of sorts. It rang out again, and again, each one building on the other. Aithris looked towards the southern approach, and his gaze went to the unfinished apartment block at the farthest corner past the clearing on that side. Now the noise was somewhat more pronounced, and it seemed to be growing in volume.

"Aith, what is it?" Natalia was crouched to his right, and she had seen his expression change. She knew that his instincts were not often wrong, and over the years they had known each other she knew what to look out for if the Nomad picked up on something everyone else did not.

"I think they're shelling us," Aithris stated. They did not have to wait long for confirmation of this.