The Hands We're Dealt (IC)

[Imperial1917]

As he listened to the words of the Ministers, Vicarius crossed his hands in front on him and was politely quiet. He let their words, even the calls of heresy, wash over him without protest. As he listened to them, he reflected that he could now see why his predecessor had decided to resign his post and instead begin using his considerable backed-up wealth to build up a private army to fight for Sarus’ survival. These fools could not be trusted to do such a thing; they would never have half the guts to do it. And they called the man a coward. None of that had been apparent the many times that the young Marshal had sat down with him, surrounded by other ‘resigned’ military officials, all of whom were doing the exact same thing. They, to a man, knew that their combined contributions might not mean much in the grand scheme of things, at least not in comparison to what they might have been able to do as Marshal, but they were at their wits end.

Vicarius wondered whether he too should not follow their example. Already members of his long-serving martial family had gone to help the ex-Marshal or other military official. He brushed the thought aside with the same stroke. If he left, then the PDF would be headless. Avitabile might have toadied to the fat Minister for a bit, but the truth was that he had a foot out the door too. A foot and the better part of the opposite leg. And someone needed to tell these fools how stupid they were. He spread his hand slowly, in a calming gesture of peace, his voice calm and each word simply delivered, as one would do to unruly children,

“Gentlemen, I can understand your concerns, but I cannot sympathize as much as you might like. As Union Leader Giacomenni says, we of the PDF serve the people of Sarus; I serve as Marshal at the pleasure of the Governor, who in turn serves at the pleasure of the High Lords of Terra who the God-Emperor of Mankind sits behind upon his Golden Throne and looms over daily, as he looms over us all. But make no mistake, I am not one to abdicate my post or ignore my sworn duty to protect this world which the Emperor has entrusted to... our custodianship. It is my duty to push for greater allotment of resources to the creation of viable military during peacetime so that we might protect ourselves in times of war, as the Emperor decreed all worlds should be capable of doing when he founded the Imperium. It is my duty to present the ruling body of the world with tactics, strategies, and plans with which to deny the enemy or at least delay him until relief forces could arrive. And it is my duty in war to direct the brave men and women of the PDF no matter the cost.

“The plan you reject on political, financial, and Throne alone knows what else grounds is the culmination of the opinions of the military minds of Sarus. It was assembled with the greatest care possible given the information provided by the Imperium, the expertise of men who have faced them in battle, and various private consultants. I place it before you because it is my duty to advise you on all matters military, press you to action, and carry out whatever instruction is necessary. If you cannot see the wisdom in placing the needs of Sarus before your worries about what might happen after this war is over, why, that leaves me only to either despair or mutiny. The Emperor forbids the latter, so I am stuck with the former.

“Some of you worry about what the people of Sarus might think of you if you enact these measures. I think that you should rather fear the coming green tide, as I am sure the people do moreso than some war rationing. Failing that, fear the Emperor; fear for your mortal souls, for if you push aside this advice and Sarus falls, you will still have to answer to Him, even in death. Remember that you have been given custodianship of this world and the Emperor Protects, but He also expects. I have heard that the Imperial Guard holds to the motto ‘Our only fear is to fail.’ I have been thinking of making the same for the PDF of Sarus and you should think about making it your life motto so long as you serve at the Emperor’s pleasure.”

The Marshal smiled, but there was no mirth in it. A hint of wolfishness came and went over his features, the legacy of the knowledge that, one way or another, he would either get what he wanted or these men – though they hardly rated the term, especially the Adept – would get what was coming to them. Lowering his hands, he began pacing slowly along the aisle front, looking into the eyes of those in the gallery, though he could not see them, his hands clasped behind his back. It was a habit many picked up when they gave briefings to soldiers. Of course, these were no soldiers, nor would they ever be; they had not the backbone to do what the PDF knew had to be done. Still, his voice was calm and pleasant.

“The enemy is coming, gentlemen, and they will be upon us soon. They have pillaged their way across many worlds already and now they bring that plunder here in the form of weapons to destroy us and hordes to drown us in a green tide. Surely many of those unfortunate worlds thought they could placate the populous – which is now almost certainly dead or else enslaved – while persecuting a war. Surely they thought that they could save the holy technology of the Omnissiah – oh, yes, Adept” he said looking directly into the optic sensors of the mangled shell of a man, “I know well the sanctity of those machines. Yet now the enemy has desecrated them because there were those too squeamish to keep them out of enemy hands.” He stopped in front of the Adept and said, “It is the greater heresy to leave such things for the enemy than to destroy them and return their machine-spirits to the Omnissiah.” Continuing down the line, he said, “Surely they thought that their planetary defenses would stop any enemy and make a fight on the ground unnecessary.” He gazed into the distance now where there was no one, having stopped his pace. Now he turned abruptly, “And they were wrong, gentlemen. Wrong and it cost them their lives, their freedom, and their place at the Emperor’s side. They failed him as they failed the people of their worlds. Any of them who yet live, their planets not wholly yet conquered, can now only wage crusades of penance to cleanse themselves of their sins. They may yet succeed in that, but they will likely fail.”

Walking back towards the senior members of the council, he continued, still in that pleasant tone of voice, “I have neither the luxury of wishful thinking nor the patience to consider such musings.” He stopped a considerable distance from them, his distaste for them so far as not to want to get any closer. “What you have said, I will consider. If you have meaningful information or suggestions to provide, I will make time to hear and answer them, but do not waste the time I have to prepare Sarus for that which you never did. There is precious little of it as it is.”

Turning back, he strode towards his chair, but then paused, turning to Dee and said, “Oh, and Minister? If you cannot read and understand the term ‘can no longer be protected’, then I suggest that you brush up on your grammar before voting this way or that; the record of this council already may reflect such a lacking.” Settling into his seat, Vicarius sat back to see what mischief he had managed. Part of him wanted to leave, but the rest of him was a great deal smarter than Willibrood. An absent member could not vote.

[Jarms48]

"The council recognises the member for Fair Haven."

He could hear the whispers of his fellow members. The backbenchers were, on the whole, typically quiet. Member of Fair Haven, Avitabile was ex-military and still recalled the fateful day of reorganisation and the inevitable reshuffle into the PDF. The chief of staff and another hundred high ranking officers were cast aside. Replaced with political idealists – many of those were younger Sarusians who adopted the faith early. Whilst others were merely replaced with ranking members of the 535th Orsteon and (once General) Korvydae himself. Avitabile could not contain himself, something had to be said.

"What you suggest is ludicrous and bordering insanity. Do you really suggest that we pre-emptively evacuate everyone into the primary habitation zones? Hold up behind our metaphorical walls and merely wait until Imperial reinforcement arrives? That's your plan, that's the plan of the Imperial officials and the private consultants? I am shocked. This is the best you can do? To wait, to dig them a hole to bury us in?"

"We have attained no force compositions, have no notion of their size. We have done no force reconnaissance. We have no idea if and where they'll be landing. Yet, your plan will have us abandoning our assets, our land and our homes. There will be no protracted retreat. No mobile war. No total war. No nuclear solutions. What if they land in the deserts? What if they crash into the middle of the oceans? Hundreds to a few thousand kilometres away from civilisation? What then? We still wait, still give them ground.”

"Sir. Your plan has no flexibility. Holds no merit with the information at hand. Is one of fear and one of little action. Your fellow ministers have condemned it. Have seen its flaws. I say we wait. Wait for the enemy to show their weary heads, to show their hands. Then we consolidate. Hunker down across a retreating front. Make them fight for every metre. Mobile war. Total war. That's the key. Keep them pressed. Keep them outwitted. Fight dirty."

“Tell me Vicarius. Does this mention of skeleton crews factor in a measure of distance? Why would you compromise the yields of these industries unless absolutely necessary? If the enemy breaks through and these areas are then to be threatened, why not evacuate then?”

[Atrum Daemon]

A bionic hand held up was the only thing that held back a vitriolic response to the Marshal by a few of Hallack's younger aids. They had passionate thoughts about the Omnissiah and the theological implications of Vicarious' careless words, but now was not the time for that. He sat and listened to the hot air being blown about and grew slightly more interested when a member of Fair Haven stood and said his piece.

“There is another option I have been considering,” Hallack said, being recognized by the scribe. “But I was hesitant to bring it forward due to questions of means, but I would hear the council's thoughts on the matter. We have the capability to produce weapons, even at a basic level. Why not arm the populace as best we can to support the PDF troops? The people of Sarus have a collective passion about the preservation of their home. Let them fight for it. Give them the option of standing tall and defending hearth and home. To the death, if need be. Rather than tell them to run and hide, why not give them some measure of hope? Now it is very likely that we do not have the raw materials to make this happen, but I believe it is something worth considering.”

Hallack was fully aware of the mountain of questions and concerns that came with such a proposed idea, but he felt the current circumstances warranted such thinking.

[Imperial1917]

Vicarius smiled wolfishly again, that smile without mirth, as he leaned forward to address the ex-military representative. “And what exactly am I fighting with, Avitabile? A million and a half PDF to protect two hundred million people scattered over a distance in excess of one hundred and forty-five million kilometers. You are right. We have no idea what kind of force is coming. All we know is that it bested the PDF of several worlds and their Imperial relief forces. For myself and those who put together this plan, that is telling enough. It is mere wishful thinking to believe that the enemy will not be able to land.

“You paint a gallant picture of an age of war long past. Of course there is no force recon – the enemy approaches us from space, not from across the continent – and they have yet to arrive. The Imperium has provided us with no ships with which to do reconnaissance.

“A mobile war is not an option right now, nor do I hope it ever will be. A mobile war means that your population has shrunk so far as you can move easily and it pays greater dividends to yield ground and move. The reality right now is that population centers will be targets and where we have to consolidate the bulk of our forces to defend. Even if they have no walls.

“The plan does not mean we are wholly on the defensive. The assassination program we are implementing is meant to slow and debilitate the enemy’s response times and keep them fractious. Yet if you are entertaining the prospect of full frontal confrontations with the Orks, you had best stow that while I remain Marshal, because it won’t happen, at least not at this stage. All accounts provided to Sarus by the Imperium indicates that the Orks’ ability to raise their sheer numbers will give them the ability to overwhelm our forces. Even once we conscript and double our numbers with fresh, untried troops, we will be outnumbered. Every loss is one we will be worse off for than ten times that in Orks.

“We don’t know where the enemy will land except that we pray that the planetary defenses, which prioritize the defense of the cities, will be able to keep them out of the major population centers. Stretching our forces across empty ground would only thin our response time and make a stable defense impossible. Better a wall of bodies than a thin string.

“As for the skeleton crews, they operate on the same principle as the evacuations: they cannot wait. If we wait for a later time, the chaos as people flee the Orks as they bear down on settlements will be immense and probably greater than the PDF can handle. It would be wiser to move them now while the evacuations can be done steadily and without undue haste. For the industries it means a tradeoff between maximizing production while minimizing the bodies left behind, for too many will mean that the PDF may not be able to evacuate them the greenskins do arrive.”

Vicarius’ eyes flickered to the Adept then, knowing that the man – though he was clearly not a man anymore – was restrained. Much as the Marshal would have enjoyed it, then was not the time for a theological debate. “As for the Adeptus Mechanicus’ suggestion, the PDF will support it as long as said individuals are cleared for skill and competency with the weapons. The last thing we need right now is a mob of fools armed with weapons.”

[Azazeal849]

"I consider these safeguard measures regarding the transparency and proper use of a potentially very powerful tool to be of capital importance."

"If I may respond, lord governor?" Kol asked, raising his eyebrows towards Musonius. Musonius, in turn, signalled the scribe. "This government does indeed have the funds to build this network, but not without affecting the budgets of the proposed defence increases. Also, with all due respect of course, having the funds does not equal having the expertise."

The agri minister laced his hands.

"All of that said, Mr Giacomenni, I can address your other point and reassure you that there are no plans to shut down existing media broadcasters."

When there was no further opposition to the plans for the information network, Kol gave a small, satisfied nod. He lapsed into silence as Vicarius coughed politely behind one clenched hand and waved to the governor.

...

Kol sat with his lips resting against his clasped hands, looking tired and sombre as the discussion of the marshal's plans flew back and forth. After reading through Vicarius' proposals a second time, he splayed a long-fingered hand over the dataslate and slid it delicately across the bench towards the elder woman sitting on his right side.

"Anisha, dear." he said quietly. "You're the lawyer. What would your opinion of the good marshal's plan be?"

The dusky-skinned woman adjusted her spectacles on her nose and narrowed her eyes as she examined the document.

"A power play, and a painfully obvious one. Items 6, 7 and 9 in particular are in conflict with elements of the planetary constitution. The Labour Coalition and the other local parties will never vote to instate martial law with these on the table."

"Soldiers never were very good at the game." Kol shrugged, and for a moment he looked wistful. "Sanvi would have shown him how to pitch an offer."

To Kol's left, forewoman Valk's face fell in sympathy at the mention of Kol's lost cousin, but the young man next to her merely sat back and stroked his beard. Kol laced his hands again, and a ghost of his old serpentine smile crossed his face.

"Still, now that the broadcast network has been agreed, let us see what kind of consensus we can build in her memory."

"The last thing we need right now is a mob of fools armed with weapons." the marshal was spitting at logis Hallack.

Kol rose and signalled the scribe, ready to position himself once again as the council's mediator.

"Before this discussion turns too heated," Kol began neutrally, "Perhaps we should all take a step backwards. It is clear that the majority of this council is against the lord marshal's request to impose martial law, as well as the invasion preparations in their current form. I hardly even need add my own opposition to them. However, let us see what we can salvage from the plan. Clearly, items 6 and 7 will be too counterproductive in inflaming the population. Item 9 and the last clause of item 6 are unacceptable because they go against the planetary constitution and bill of citizen's rights. Let us therefore abandon any further fruitless debate on these subjects."

He paused, letting the murmurs from the back benches die down.

"Let us also set aside for the moment all strategy requiring knowledge of the size of the approaching enemy splinter fleet, which we do not yet know. I direct the council's attention towards the lord marshal's remaining proposals. I believe that the feeling of the council is that items 3 and 8 are too damaging to be implemented pre-emptively. However, I do see some value in providing information through the new broadcast network regarding where industries should plan to relocate their vital equipment to, should it eventually become necessary. Likewise, it may be beneficial to inform the most exposed communities of their designated evacuation routes, should the aliens break through the orbital defences and land in their vicinity."

[Imperial1917]

Vicarius leaned back in his chair and shook his head. "Orks do not care for constitutions, Minister Kol. They care only for slaughter and plunder. You seek to protect your image now only for the population to fall to Ork axes later."

He paused now, knowing that he was already in too deep to avoid saying what came next. Still, he spoke slowly, almost hesitantly, "If we do not initiate the evacuations now, it will be too late when the Orks land. The PDF will be unable to save vast amount of the population without unacceptable losses that will drain our ability to fight later on. I will have no choice but to abandon them." He sighed inwardly, though he kept his exterior composed. The ex-Marshal had spoken of a fatigue caused by council that went deeper than the weariness after battle and now Vicarius knew what he meant. He had also said that you cannot explain strategy to a civilian; they had not the mind to comprehend it.

Rubbing the bridge of his nose, Vicarius reflected that he had known deep down that the plans would be doomed before they were even sent; he knew it would come down to salvaging what could be salvaged, much like Sarus was like to become shortly. "Point three will minimize the same risks that not implementing points one and two would impose. Point eight was only ever going to be implemented as the Orks advance on the facilities and they become undefendable - not that that reasoning seems to make sense around here. Point four is at my discretion. Points five through seven are vital to the security of the population and the persecution of the coming war. Point nine speaks for itself."

Lowering his hand, Vicarius said, "But I agree that we have discussed this enough. If you cannot see the wisdom in it, then perhaps the people will. As it is evident that this council has rejected the best given advice of its military body on military matters, I will turn the matter over to the population and the Emperor to judge you. The PDF will publish these plans along with affirmations of what was rejected and what was at the PDF's jurisdiction. If that causes any of you discomfort to know that those people lost to the enemy will damn your souls to the Warp with their last breath because you were too busy politicking to take advice from the PDF, let me know. It may help me sleep at night, knowing that I did my duty and you will get yours. The Emperor, I'm sure, will have some choice words for you all.

"In the meantime, I think this council should vote on the matters of conscription and military expansion, seeing as those ten billion Thrones have yet to be allocated this cycle. It will, at the very least, serve as a token to insist that this council does something worthwhile. I will have prepared additional military plans for you to reject on the basis of your vast, collective military prowess while we vote."

[PaintSerf]

"Archbishop, you will withdraw those accusations against me or be removed from the camber. You have been warned. We all support the Imperium, we are all citizens of His Empire."

“The God-Emperor knows and judges the true content of our hearts, minds, and souls. You have been warned, Bolanus,” Tarpeian coolly proclaimed as he regarded Musonius with dangerously narrowed eyes, “and know that once again you are without the Ministorum’s favor.”

“Obtain a copy of the official chamber record of minutes - and do be certain it is entirely unedited.” The Archbishop hissed at Posca as he assembled his paperwork before walking out. “The Synod will want as many undeniable facts as possible and from multiple sources. We must ensure that the worthy curia has all the evidence necessary to make correctly informed decisions regarding Sarus and this closet heretic of a Governor.”

---

In Archbishop Tarpeian’s considered opinion the past year had seemed to prove his words true: the God-Emperor knew and judged the true content of a man’s heart, mind, and soul. However it seemed that He on Terra was particularly displeased with what he had witnessed on Sarus – and Tarpeian was certain that included himself – especially with how disastrously this meeting was going for him. The bad news had started with the news of Imperial failure on Newjack Alpha, and the imminent arrival of Orks had ended the Archbishop’s campaign to secure the Sororita convent before it began in full. Not even House Kol’s losses in the trade fleet disappearance had been enough to fully balm Tarpeian’s simmering irritation.

However the Archbishop had managed to subsume his discontent to call and preside over a high mass in honor of the lost souls of the fleet. It was the first time Tarpeian and Musonius had shared the same room since the last official council meeting. Whenever protocol expected the Governor and Archbishop to meet, without fail Tarpeian delegated the responsibility to a lesser prelate and ventured out amongst the common faithful of Sarus. The avoidance tactics had been noted and once again Tarpeian refused to make a public comment in regards to his latest protest against the Governor.

The session had not started well with the retirement of the Archbishop’s overly compliant and useful ally in Korvydae, and it had only gotten worse from there. Tarpeian had reconciled himself to defeat as Kol managed to swiftly poach Dee and Hallack’s vote – however he knocked the podium anyways – as damn it if he wasn’t going to make his points, if only for the record’s sake once the grox excrement hit the fan, as it assuredly would in some form or another.

"The council recognizes Archbishop Ianós Tarpeian, Pontfex Mundi of Sarus.”

“Of the current offers proposed by the council, on behalf the Ministorum I can endorse the necessity of conscription as well as the continued maintenance of Imperial holidays. Both are necessary and proper measures to enact as we are about to engage in righteous war against the Ork barbarians.” Tarpeian’s hands made the aquila as he spoke. “With the God-Emperor’s blessings we shall prevail over these xenos trespassers, and may we rejoice as they drown in their own tainted blood, which shall be plentifully shed by the faithful men and women of Sarus.”

“To that end I hereby encourage all able bodied and dutiful believers of our eternal God-Emperor to answer Sarus’ call to arms, and contribute however and how much they can to the defense of this world of the Imperium. The sermon of service will echo through all Ministorum churches and institutions, and I intend to reinforce that message during all religious festivals.” Tarpeian gestured to the new Marshal. “Naturally we welcome the presence of PDF recruiters, and I would ask the Marshal to detail soldiers and tanks to be integrated into these events for the benefit of public morale. It would benefit the citizenry to witness their heroic defenders and the mighty Imperial war machines, crafted by Sarusian hands and built from the Mechanicus’ holy patterns they will take into battle.”

“It would benefit the soldiers as well, to have them interact with whom and what they are fighting for, and I have no doubt that the Marshal will have his forces further bulwarked with an influx of faithful and patriotic volunteers by such a display of martial strength.” Tarpeian nodded firmly. “Of course the Ministorum will continue our long established support for military with what resources we have. I will be sure second more clergy and train more lay preachers for PDF service to assist with the moral and morale needs of our soldiers as they prepare to deal hateful vengeance against the Ork menace.”

“That being said, I am obligated to speak in defense of the benefits provided by Ministorum schooling rather than Minister Kol’s intended propaganda network.” Tarpeian quickly held up a forestalling hand. “I am cognizant of the majority opinion. I am aware of how rapidly the original proposal was abandoned. I am a realist as to the unlikelihood of changing this council’s vote. However public morale and welfare will be essential going into this conflict. Equally so will be smoothing the initial misunderstandings between Sarus and the Imperium, and if we prove ourselves worthy of survival, any future misunderstandings between our united humanity.”

“The value of Ministorum schooling is that as we guarantee free education to the underprivileged and a means to alleviate education bottlenecks. Naturally our underprivileged population will soar and bottlenecks will occur once we are forced to relocate citizens – principally from our rural agricultural communities - into the comparative safety of our cities.” The Archbishop tilted his head appraisingly. “If the God-Emperor favors our resistance, we need to continue some measure of societal normalcy – of which the education of our youth is the most basic and essential component to the future of Sarus. No doubt it would provide solace to our fighting men and women that, even if uprooted by the trials of war that their children and siblings will be cared for and comforted by a normal routine.”

“The other benefit is that we must also enlighten the next generations of Sarus about the Imperium and how Sarus is part of the enduring dominion of Mankind. Once again I will stress that this investment only serves to strengthen the irrevocable bonds between Sarus and the Imperium.” Tarpeian sighed, and for a moment showed an age beyond his appearance. “Frankly, gentlemen, this is our last opportunity to implement a social initiative before our resources will be committed towards total war. It is in Sarus’ best interests that this council to finally resource this serious and long-term initiative.”

“House Kol’s news network would tell our people that they are Imperial citizens, and maybe come to rationalize their sacrifices have a purpose – for a time. Ministorum education will see our people genuinely believe that they are Imperial citizens, and know that their sacrifices have a purpose – for all time.” Tarpeian levelly regarded the council. “I encourage the council to re-consider this proposal for more than a moment, as we must be secure in the future as well as the present.

[Atrum Daemon]

Hallack listened to the Archbishop closely. He was potentially the biggest obstacle in the way of progressive Mechanicus expansion on Sarus. But, he saw a potential opening the Archbishop just gave him and decided to take it.

“I would cautiously agree with the Archbishop's statements about the raising of schools as an alternative to a standard propaganda network. Relations between Sarus and the Imperium are...rocky if we are being kind. Now more than ever is a time when we who serve the Imperium must show the kindness we are capable of. I am ready to put my support behind the esteemed Archbishop's proposed schooling on the condition that Mechanicus schools will be raised as well. If not immediately, then certainly at a later date. Our temples and schools also provide education freely to those who seek it and are perhaps looking for a...broader range of education opportunities. I am not saying this out of maliciousness, Archbishop. I simply want our faiths to be both present in this endeavor. In times of such crises, we of the faithful must keep the spiritual and mental well-being of the people in mind while men such as the Marshal do their duty in protecting them.”

[Jarms48]

Nuclear arms were no new topic on Sarus. For over five thousand years there had been numerous arms races between the Central and Western continents. The South Eastern had always remained neutral and the Eastern condemned both of them, often working as a mediator during global defence talks. The world congress could never come to a true agreement, yet many compromises were sought. In the coming centuries before Imperial arrival Sarusian nuclear stores had been reduced by 66%.

Then came the Imperium. Then came the call for reform. The worlds military was reshuffled into the singular and monotone PDF. The numerous SM troops were combined into one – the SSMT or Sarusian Strategic Missile Troops. Old silos were restored, their weapons trained not on each other, but to the stars. To all the books, Sarus maintained 505 active missiles. A mixture of void and intercontinental munitions. Most complexes held solitary armaments, yet were dotted with multiple silos for complete coverage. Even so, many warned that these defences were spread thin.

Again compromises were drawn and old age equipment was retrofitted for use. Of these 505 missiles 60 were deployed by mobile launchers, and all of it controlled by the SSMT. Waiting for the call, the codes and the day.

* * * * *

A keen eyed Lieutenant keep her eyes fixed upon her logis. She checked, double checked and triple checked. There were no discrepancies in the monitoring, the feed was coming in strong, this was it. Their simulation and training was over. The Orks were here.

Many criticised giving the SSMT monitoring abilities - thus was the role of the AF or Aerospace Forces. Though as many of the old veterans often recited, the reshuffling changed everything. The SSMT had become the first line of defence - and arguably the last. Even if the AF maintained control over the planets macro cannons; another government check to make sure no one organisation held all the power.

“Sir? You might want to see this.” The Lieutenant signaled for her duty officer, then for his staff officer. Then the cycle repeated itself. An old, wary Colonel with short gray hair and a stubble covered chin came over to her station. A neutral look across his face, always blank of expression, the burden of command weighed heavily upon his shoulders.

“What is it?” He queried.

“Long range scanners have picked up numerous contacts. They don't match any known Imperial signatures. We're still getting confirmation from the AF.” It was a formality - a final check. If it was somehow a hoax, a glitch or hack in their systems the AF would know. They had the primary sources, the means and most importantly, control of the Sarusian satellites.

“Good.” The Colonel's face was still blank. There was no gratitude, not even fear of what approached.

“I've got confirmation! AF confirm 15 separate contacts, moving in formation.”
“What's the status of ground-to-void torpedoes?”
“On standby and awaiting order. SCCS is plotting firing solutions as we speak.”
“How many weapons are in deployment range?”
“If they maintain current trajectories... Currently 28 out of 310 land based silos.”
“Estimated damage from weapon deployments?”
“Not sure... sir. We haven't faced anything like this.”

“Get the AF on the line, give us a force composition.”
“Aye, sir.”

“They count 8 ships of medium class – dimensions similar to Imperial cruiser class vessels. 3 ships of approximate light class - dimensions similar to Imperial frigates or destroyers. Then the rest are something else... 4 vessels – approximate size, asteroid 2 kilometre diameter.”
“What happens if those impact the surface at terminal velocity?”
“I'll contact the AF.”

“Estimated 46 kilometre crater diameter. Ignition from fireball radiation up to 250 kilometres. Dust and debris up to 400 kilometres. Regional earthquakes, hurricanes and tsunamis. Regional extinctions and crop failures.”

"Are they being towed? Used as weapons?"

The young Lieutenant relayed the question over the phone.

"They're powered sir, detecting massive heat signatures across their stern."
"So they may just slow down, or it could just be self-propelled."

He pondered to himself, as his hand idly kneaded his chin. He glanced over to the rest of his troop. They were his, word had to be spread, calls had to be made and codes procured. From his control centre he maintained a network of 3 silos - 2 surface-to-void torpedoes and a single ICBM.

"We'll know soon enough. Besides we can't take the chance."

The Colonel turned to face the ranks of missile troops gathered around him. All of them still fixed on their own stations, on occasion they peaked their heads up to see what the commotion was. They all knew, many looked to their commanders, while others maintained somber expressions. He cleared his throat, drew his hands behind his back. Words didn't come easily to him, yet they needed some more than ever.

"My son calls me a missile man. I do this for him, for all of our sons and daughters. Our families and loved ones. For our world. For those who previously lived and died for it. If we lose, we lose everything. Not just our lives, but the very planet we stand on. We are all missile men and women. We are the first line of defence, the AF standby us. They'll protect the cities, it's our duty to keep their feet off the ground. Now, what do you say? How about we blow them out of the fucking sky!"

It was quiet at first. Many didn't seem to take it well. One of the women stood up from her logis and gave her officer a crisp salute. The rest followed quickly in suit. No-one said another word, nobody had to, everyone knew the situation.

* * * * *

"Final trajectories plotted. They're making for the South Eastern continent. Regional commanders are requesting orders to engage."
"They have it. Get word out, release the stops and get the Governor on the line. He's going to want to see this."
"You're sure?"
"He's a politician to be sure, but he cares too much about this planet to decline visuals."
"Aye, sir."

* * * * *

"We've got the codes, Colonel. The keys are ready and interception paths are plotted. Let's hope those Mechanicus types installed everything correctly."

There were hitched breaths. The seconds felt like hours. This was it. This was their trial by fire.

"Do it." He ordered, his voice still neutral.

An alarm rung across the command centre. The sounds of the silo doors parting, their heavy gears grinding and turning, broke through everything. The vox blared out warnings and called for safe distances. There was the sound of ignitions, the display monitors momentarily blinded with bright light and plums of thick smoke. Everyone was glued to them. The calls continued to come in, from neighbouring installations, reporting their own deployments. 14 missiles broke through the atmosphere and entered the void.

Flashes of light flickered across their monitors - with what they assumed was ripples of defensive fire. One of their weapons detonated mid-flight - a lucky shot, or just good co-ordination. A pair of detonations sprung up along the flank of their lead vessel. Seconds passed and flames jutted out into the void before being put out by the lack of oxygen. It's course changed, it's engines spluttered and died out. Retro thrusters ignited, the ship dipped, attempted course corrections. Then just fell silent.

"We've got one dead in the water! Disabled. It's venting atmosphere."

There was a brief cheer. Another escort detonated, a penetration through the citadel caused its magazine to detonate, offering the innocent of Sarus a new (temporary) star.

"New solutions plotted. Requesting order, sir."
"Fire."

Another 14. Another few breathless moments of raw silence. Their last oo'rah, their final chance.

"We've lost 4, their counter battery fire has intensified." The young Lieutenant called out.

From 15 contacts, they destroyed 3 and disabled 4. The Colonel shook his head and watched as a pair of Roks fell towards the surface. Under thrusters firing as a means to curb their entry speed. There was a rumble, a shutter felt throughout the entire complex. Followed by another.

"How far away do you think that was?"
"No more than 50 kilometres."

"Sound a general alarm. We're scuttling this facility. We'll see where the brass wants us next. Who knows, there might be a nuclear solution, other than that - it's up to the boys on the ground now."

"What about the other ships still in orbit?"
"We wait. They'll have to follow rotation or face another salvo."