(Photo by Torbin Buhl)

The Ka’Rak ships were beginning their descent in earnest as the planetary shields were about to fail. Fas’ battalion had put up a good fight and she was hopeful that they had done sufficient damage to them that they wouldn’t be able to begin their ground assault too quickly.

Hope is a dangerous thing, Fas thought to herself as she studied the display screens in front of her. Half of the Ka’Rak fleet showed significant signs of damage and weren’t likely to survive deorbiting. Of the remaining half, Fas couldn’t tell whether the damage they’d done would be enough to hinder them.

A runner, one of Immolator Gres’ soldiers, dashed into the command room. “Conflagrator Fas,” he said as he saluted, “Immolator Gres is doubtful reinforcements from the other sectors of the planet will arrive in time without communications being restored. She asks if there are any within your ranks capable of establishing contact without the neural network.”

The runner’s eyes shifted briefly towards the Ka’Raks in the room before snapping back into place.

Fas wasn’t sure whether the glance was out of fear of the Ka’Raks or if it was to insinuate that Immolator Gres wanting to know if the Ka’Raks could fix their communications problem but didn’t want the runner to say so explicitly. In all honesty, Fas wasn’t sure if the Ka’Raks could do such a thing. Her Ka’Raks could access the neural network because they believed they were soldiers and every soldier they’d met could access the neural network. With the network down, she doubted the Ka’Raks would believe that they could still send or receive information through it.

But perhaps there was another way.

“Are there any mages in this sector?” Fas asked the runner.

“They were killed in the initial bombardment,” he said, shaking his head.

“I might still have a solution,” Fas said, not allowing herself time to second guess herself. This was not the time for caution. Either they threw everything they had at defending the planet or they would die. “Li’Ko,” Fas said, turning to the Ka’Rak, “you and your Kindling are to come with me. Igniter Prin is in command here until I return.”

Igniter Prin took Fas’ position in the command room, a stoic expression locked onto her face, as the runner, the Ka’Raks, and Fas exited the array. They rushed out across the field and between buildings, avoiding the deeper craters and piles of rubble. As they ran, the Ka’Rak Kindling who had previously been sent out joined Li’Ko and the others. The runner gave them another worried look but kept his mouth shut. He didn’t understand why they were joining them and Fas didn’t have time to try and explain. She was just relieved that her order for Li’Ko and the Kindling to join her had succeeded in calling them all to her. With the Ka’Rak invasion so near at hand, she didn’t want her group to get confused for invaders. She also didn’t want her Ka’Raks to begin wondering which side they were on.

It took several minutes to reach Immolator Gres and in that time the planetary shield had flashed at least a dozen times, flickering as it struggled to stabilize and continuing to diminish each time. They found Immolator Gres in the shell of the communications building. Soldiers were digging through the rubble in search of equipment that might be salvageable while others pulled apart the devices they’d all gathered and were working on constructing a working relay.

As soon as Immolator Gres saw them approaching, she hurried over to them.

“Well?” she demanded, looking at the Ka’Raks who were falling into line behind Fas. “Can they do it?”

“Yes,” Fas said even though she didn’t believe it herself. Then, turning to Li’Ko she pointed to where the soldiers were working on the relay. “You and your Kindling are to repair the relay so we can reestablish contact with the rest of the planet.”

Li’Ko and the other Ka’Raks nodded and then marched over to see what they could do. Immolator Gres dismissed the runner with a wave and then sidled up beside Fas.

“I thought you would just tell them to do it there in the array,” Immolator Gres said, speaking quietly so as to avoid being overheard. “Did you have to bring them here?”

“I’m not certain they’ll succeed,” Fas admitted. “Just like magic and technology have a hard time working together, their belief seems to have a hard time working with either technology or magic.”

Immolator Gres looked unimpressed. “So why bring them here?”

“Every chance is worth taking,” Fas said. The sky above them shook and it took a worrying long amount of time before the shields stabilized. “Especially now,” she added before finishing in even quieter tones, “and I thought we might try magical communication.”

“All the mages are either dead or too injured,” Immolator Gres replied.

“I can channel magic,” Fas admitted, meeting Immolator Gres’ shocked eyes. “I picked it up as a child,” she went on, feeling as though she needed to make some excuse for herself, “but was never officially trained and I’ve only used it once since enlisting.”

Immolator Gres studied her for a moment.

“Isarch,” she said at last. “That’s how you did it, eh?”

“It’s how I survived,” Fas corrected her. “Everything else was…

She trailed off as the sky above quivered and then, with hardly a sound, the planetary shield finally gave way before the Ka’Rak assault.

“If you’re going to do anything do it NOW!” Immolator Gres barked.

Soldiers ran for cover as a new bombardment began to rain down around them. Buildings exploded all around them and shrapnel filled the air. Immolator Gres and Fas, however, stood their ground. They both knew there was nowhere else for them to run where they’d be any less likely to be killed. To her surprise, the Ka’Raks also didn’t flee, instead coming to rejoin her since the soldiers they’d been working with had abandoned them.

She closed her eyes. Fas needed to concentrate on hearing the tones, feeling them and then chanting them in order to channel the magical energy she needed. Even though the noise of the bombardment was incredible, hearing the tones was not something she needed her normal senses to listen to. Slowly, she began to hear it. Her chanting was strange in her ears, however, and no aura formed around her. She tried again, this time making sure she had the tones right, yet still she felt no magic well up inside her.

“Conflagrator,” Immolator Gres said after some time, placing a hand on Fas’ shoulder, “It’s alright. We’ve done our best. You should return to your soldiers.”

There was defeat in Immolator Gres’ voice and Fas sagged beneath the weight of it. Without another word, Fas turned, intending to return to the anti-orbital array, when the next wave of the bombardment struck. The array was hidden from view behind the intervening buildings but it was nevertheless apparent when it was struck. So powerful was the explosion that Fas was momentarily deafened and her vision swam, refusing to go back into focus for several minutes. The fireball that rose up afterward was so bright that the surrounding sky looked like it was night by comparison. She had long since stopped noticing the regular THOOM of each shot fired by the array but as her hearing returned the lack of the array’s noise was painfully obvious. The other arrays were soon to follow as they were each struck and destroyed in turn.

Fas was vaguely aware of Immolator Gres and the Ka’Raks still standing close by but it was as though her brain had suddenly stopped being able to process any new information. Skith and Prin, both left to command Fas’ soldiers in her absence, now dead in her place. Someone was speaking nearby. She could hear them but there was absolutely no comprehension of what it was they were saying. She took an uneasy step in the direction of the smoke rising up from where the array had been but several pairs of hands held her back. Fas struggled but only briefly; she couldn’t seem to put much force into any of her actions or thoughts. Finally, a firm pair of hands grabbed Fas by her helmeted head and forced her turn and look up.

A Ka’Rak ship was descending from directly above them. Like all invasion transport ships, this one was miles long in both its length and width, capable of carrying thousands, perhaps hundreds of thousands of ground troops. Fas had once seen the shipyards in orbit above a foundry world where invasion ships were built. They were too heavy to launch from a planets surface, and once they’ve landed on a planet they would serve as a base until the battle was won. Then the ship would be dismantled and its parts used to build whatever else was needed in its place.

“It’s coming down on top of us!” Immolator Gres’ voice filtered slowly into Fas’ consciousness.

“They don’t have shipyards,” Fas heard herself say, her hand pointing upward. “They believe they have ships, and so they have them.”

“COME ON!” Immolator Gres shouted more forcefully.

When Fas still didn’t move, Immolator Gres pulled back a hand as though to try and slap Fas. In that moment, as Immolator Gres’ hand began to fly forward, it was as though all of the thoughts and realizations that had been trying to break through to Fas all snapped forward in the same instant.

She let Immolator Gres strike her. The blow was easily deflected by her suit and Gres cradled her hand as she winced in pain. It was so easy to forget about Fas’ suit seeing as it was almost imperceptible. She’d been wearing it, helmet and all, almost every day since her arrival on Insef and it had become something of a second skin to her. It was no wonder that Immolator Gres had forgotten about it as well, otherwise she would never have tried to hit Fas, especially across the face.

“It’s too late to run,” Fas shouted over the roar of the descending ship. She locked eyes with Li’Ko. “They’ve lost control of their descent and will crash land in ten seconds, count it off.”

Above them, the ship was suddenly much closer and Li’Ko began counting down from ten.

“Get as close to me as you can,” Fas cried out, “My suits protective aura will shield you from the impact.”

The Ka’Raks crowded in, Immolator Gres being pressed in along with them. Fas extended her arms out wide as though to make the protective bubble larger.

“This isn’t how suits work!” Immolator Gres protested as she pushed back against the Ka’Raks around her.

“It’s how mine works!” Fas cried back, the noise of the approaching ship reaching such a peak that the ground shook.

Something rushed outward from Fas right as the Ka’Rak ship crashed into them. She could see the aura of her suit, hear its tones, and knew they wouldn’t be enough to save her, or the Ka’Raks and Immolator Gres who clung as tightly as they could around her. The force of the impact reverberated through Fas’ entire body, shattering the ground beneath her feet. For the briefest of moments she thought she’d escape unscathed until her helmet exploded. Pain shot through her and then there was nothing.