We Need a Deathworlder!

Eruptions combusts in mighty roars throughout the skies above the raging urban battlefield. One by one airsupport of the liberating forces are overwhelmed by dozens upon dozens of freshly responding loyalist Cali fighter crafts. These strike fighters are of a new make that’s almost completely unfamiliar to their contenders and although they appear to be made of standard Cali materials they fly with superior speeds and maneuverability to previous Cali models.

Although the majority of AA gun positions are in a state of disarray from conflict within the loyalist ranks, the responding specially selected pilots all seem to share a staunch and unyielding loyalties for their King and have zero hesitation to strike any AA position daring to turn hostile to them.

Moving quickly across a palace street, Chak looks up just in time to see a downed rebel Cali fighter leave behind black spiraling smoke as it partially crashes into the side palace proper. The bulk of the smoldering craft twirls off and down the side of the palace leaving behind a nasty architectural scar down the wall before fully dropping out of her line of sight.

She has little time to mourn either the freedom fighter or the tragic marking of something incredibly sacred before she is pulled across the rest of the street harshly.

Where she stood moments before erupts from a volley of plasma fire from above. The crafted stonework that perhaps hundreds of thousands of Cali have tread in history are obliterated and transformed into clouding blackened debris.

Several others in her party attempt to scream out from the attack, but are snuffed out before little more of an utterance escapes them. Their bodies join the drifting ash and soot as the survivors scatter to the closest cover from the sky’s view.

Holding her wife close to her in the alleyway, Simone turns her head to identify those still standing.

“They’re firing upon the palace grounds!?” Chak says, unsure why that’s so hard for herself to believe.

“They’re getting desperate. Our people are making more progress than they’d like.” Simone responds as she counts heads.

Having stuck close to the redhead, Meekie, Nodrin and Troy among a few Cali have made it to this side, but the bulk of soldiers are either ash or scattered into cover. Gazing up, Simone can’t quite see what’s going on from the tight alley she ‘s in, but from the sounds of repeated plasma discharges the loyalist Cali air forces are giving the assaulting ground forces no mercy. With them now sweeping any and all open streets, it seems time is truly running out. This is all a gamble to begin with, but now they must navigate the streets while rolling the dice every single time with far less chances of them succeeding.

Regardless of the tides having switched on a dime, there’s really no other choice but to keep going. There’s no hope for a shuttle extraction, or any feasible retreat that comes to mind.

Letting go of Chak, Simone lets out a long drawn breath.

“Comms?” She asks a Cali signaler soldier.

The stunned warrior bounces in place as he attempts to get a line out to anyone with his more advanced equipment.

“Outside of short distance, no signals going through or being received,” he reports, “Our home’s jamming defense systems are very capable it seems.”

“Guess that means we’re not calling up for more air support…” Simone mumbles, not surprised by that information, “We need to go as fast as possible while reducing our chances of being noticed. We’ll split our party. Chak, the Gratt, Troy and I will push on ahead. The rest of you keep moving, but take it as slow as you need to. We’ll clear the path and make our entrance for you to follow.” she orders.

Several of the nearby Cali hesitate and look to their Queen for confirmation.

In turn, Chak looks at Simone's covered face and nods.

“That appears to be the best option for us.” she agrees.

Nodding back, Simone steps closer to the obliterated street to get a better gander at the skies. From what she’s able to see they are indeed making constant strafing runs in every direction where friendly forces have progressed.

Squatting down, she picks up the remains of a tree branch that’s little more than charcoal and quickly steps back towards Chak with it.

“The gold is a beautiful look hun, but it will stick out like a sore thumb. The enemy aircraft have sensors and shit to find us with, but better not make it easier for ‘em or others around to pick you out. Meekie, Nodrin, Troy, help me.” she says as she starts to crumble charcoal in her gauntlets and smear it over the bright royal gold of the Cali Queen’s power armor.

“Good idea! Like when out on a hunt, but reversed.” Meekie says as she hurries up and tackles the plating on Chak’s legs.

“Hate to cover my work, but…” Troy utters as he doesn’t waste time, only pausing once to glance up at the sky as everyone picks up the sounds of approaching aircraft.

No sooner than when Chak is charred up, more plasma rains downboth the street and rooftops. Thankfully there’s no casualties and no one rushes off in a panic to get exposed.

“They know our location.” Simone utters before looking back at the accompanying Cali soldiers, “Scratch a bit of that last plan, don’t follow us. Not directly. Make your own way to the same destination, but from here we split. Increase our chances of one group making it by diving their attention.” she orders.

This time the Cali are far more agreeable to the Terran’s instruction, already gearing up to backtrack a bit.

Chak looks herself over to check for any uncovered golden patches before Nodrin pats her shoulder from behind with a char-covered hand of their own.

“Good to go.” they assure.

“Thank you, friend.” She chirps back softly, mentally preparing to leave what was once the safety of her hunting party’s numbers, “I’m ready.”

Simone nods before charging up her power armor’s strength output.

“Forgive me for this, but we don’t have much choice.” she says before hammering an augmented deathworlder leg into the wall of the closest building. Upon impact it exploded inwards, creating a sizable hole that a Terran can dive through, however not satisfied with that the redhead kicks again just under it to vertically expand it.

Chak winces at the actions, but fully understands it’s necessary.

“Good luck, my Queen.” the lead Cali soldier says as Simone enters first to scope the interior out.

Chak hesitates, even now that designation being applied to her feels like a garment being worn backwards.

“And luck to you all, may our mother moon bless us with her guidance.” Chak then replies, being absolutely sure to lock eyes with every soldier she can.

“It’s clear!” Simone calls back.

With an appreciative bounce to the soldiers, Chak turns and enters the building followed by the three others accompanying them.

Having been to many corners of the palace grounds in her youth, Chak immediately recognises the purpose of this specific structure upon entering. Or at least what it once was.

All the seating furniture had been pushed and stacked to the sides and the many decorative tapestries on the walls are no longer present. The traditional looms and weaving tools normally organized within the room are now replaced with stacked industrial storage crates.

“This… was where they’d produce our clothes…” Chak finds herself saying in a somber tone, “We could ask for any color or pattern we wished…”

Simone gives Chak a covered empathetic look before pressing an indicator on the closest crate to open its top. Peering in, she furrows her brow and closes it back up quickly. When Troy and the Gratt approach other crates she holds up a hand and shakes her head.

“What’s in them?” the Cali questions, not liking Simone’s reaction.

“Nothing that’s going to help us get to the palace faster. Come on, we gotta get moving.” Simone replies as she motions for everyone to follow as she marches towards the other end of the building.

However, Simone hears an activation of the crate and quickly turns back around to see Chak taking a look within anyway.

“Chak wait!” Simone attempts to dissuade, but it’s already far too late.

The Cali initially freezes up at what she sees, but not for very long as she slowly reaches her lower limbs into the crate. She picks up a beautiful upper garment. It’s a bright red with dark gray frills and white embroidery.

Reaching up with her upper arms, Chak removes her helmet and gently sets it on the crate corner to reveal her true-gray eyes on a deadpan expression. She initially inspects the shirt like it’s a revered artifact before then pressing her face and horns against it. Her nostril flares as she takes in the scent, finding a hint of the familiar smell of chilka flowers.

Simone comes up from behind the Cali and places a tender hand on Chak’s back, not saying a word.

“This was my brother Berit’s…” Chak says softly.

The building shake from a nearby plasma run, but the Cali remains unfazed.

“Yeah?” Simone says, knowing she needs to keep Chak in the right state of mind before moving on from this… tragic reminder of the past, “What was he like?”

“He thought rather highly of himself…” Chak huffs a laugh that bathes in a crying tone, “Very much into the refined life of royalty. We didn’t get along much, but we respected each other. He used to invite me to many of his parties to drink brew and recreationally debate policies with me and our other outspoken siblings. And he always sent wonderful gifts on my hatch-day anniversaries too, even after I was past the age of the custom. I thought it was his way of reminding me that he was older and bragging about being so high in the line of succession. But… I think he genuinely cared that much about me too.”

Chak starts to cry into the shirt, though instead of tears it’s soot that is imparted onto it.

Simone smiles softly.

“I’m sure you’re right.” she says before taking a guilt-fueled inhale, “Chak-”

“I know. I’m sorry. We can’t waste time.” Chak quickly agrees to Simone’s changing tone.

However she takes one last moment with the garment in her face before slowly placing it back down atop the stuffed crate.

“If you’re watching from our mother moon’s embrace, brother, I’m sorry that I won’t be complying with our traditions when this is all over. But you have my promise, that on this day, our people have a Queen leading our people away from drifting further astray. I’ll make you proud and worth every overly-expensive gift you sent me.” a bit of glowing red returns in her eyes as they look at the rest of the present crates, “I’ll make you all proud, and give your stolen lives the justice it deserves.” she promises as resolution becomes impassioned anger, “What remains of our family doesn’t extinguish on this day.”

Closing her eyes, she stamps a hoof into the floor in solemn vow to the dead. Although perhaps having come across this place by pure coincidence, Chak in this moment gives thanks to her mother moon for guiding her here and sharpening her resolve.

After a standard second she picks her helmet back up and clicks the seal tight. The Queen’s hunt must continue.

“Apologies, let’s depart.” she says while stepping away from the crate.

…

Traversing forward, it becomes clear that their fellow assaulting forces have been all but completely stalled as they are set upon from the skies. But even so, Chak now finds herself so close to the patch of palace wall that will hopefully grant entry.

However, of course the plan hits a significant snag. The party peers out of windows to see a group of enemy soldiers -a few dozen strong- standing guard and accompanied by a Cali military vehicle designated as a ‘Skimmer’. Decently armored, it stands on six advanced mechanized insect-like legs and sports a single offensive cannon.

“Are those… Z’ah’tuck?” Troy points out at some of the awaiting soldiers.

Sure enough, there are dino’s dressed in custom uniforms that not only sport the King’s colors, but also red capes with a terrorist gang insignia adorning it of all things.

“Fuddakk’s Claw?” Chak says as the flashes of a restaurant rumble between Simone and a Malchite.

“Guess this confirms without a doubt of their involvement with your father.” Simone says, “I was wondering why we haven’t seen more of them though… Guess the crown-thief saw fit to repurpose them to more than just Malchite smugglers.”

“Indeed… ‘Deathworlder mercenaries’ as a private royal guard force… Certainly sounds like something he’d do.” Chak replies before checking her rifle, “But they are standing in our way regardless.”

Simone raised a hand of caution.

“Hold up, warrior princess. We don’t have our numbers anymore and way outnumbered and outgunned here. We can’t just go guns a-blazing.”

“But love, we have superior personal armor and besides we don’t have time to try anywhere else. Not with those fighters seeking in the sky.” Chak insistes.

“I know, hun. Not saying we’re not gonna try something here. We just need to get… creative.” Simone assures as her analytical eyes fall onto the skimmer.

Biting her cheek she glances around the nearby buildings and smirks.

“I’m gonna have to apologize even more to you and your people after we do it Chak… but I got a plan-ish.” she says.

“Whatever it takes, love.” Chak permits without hesitation.

“Alright… What’s that tower for?” the redhead asks as she points to a simple and tall structure a bit down the road.

“Oh, that’s one of the twelve royal leisure picnic towers. The view from it is not only wonderful and perfectly planned, it would certainly be most advantageous as a place to overlook our-” Chak explains but she cuts herself off, almost able to see Simone’s expression through the redhead’s helmet she made a realization, “Oh…”

“Yup.” Simone confirms apologetically before turning to the rest of the party to fully explain the plan and their roles in it.

…

“Remember, we must use the sight that exposes temperatures, cherished.” Nodrin says in a nervous whisper through the comm.

“I remember, dearest.” Meekie assures in response.

“That is very good, deepest love but… sorry I was meaning to address Troy.” Nodrin admits in amusement.

“Me? Oh, uhm, right. Got it. It’s on, don’t worry it’s not my first rodeo.” Troy replies.

“Let’s keep conversation to a minimum, please.” Chak softly states.

All four are positioned away from each other with their respective rifles at the ready, hidden in tactical positions that have a fair view of their enemies.

“Alright, everything is set. You guys ready?” Simone’s voice eventually speaks up through the comm.

“Much.” Meekie replies first.

“Roger.” Troy confirms.

“Yes.” Nodrin trails behind the others.

“Cool. We got this, guys. Here goes nothing.” Simone says.

The four then ready themselves to move into aiming positions, waiting to commit for an excruciating ten standard seconds.

Suddenly, there’s a concentrated explosion nearby that immediately catches the enemy soldier by surprise and causes them to be on alert towards the source. Yet this alert shifts drastically when they notice the picnic tower start to topple down towards them. They back away in time to not risk being crushed or struck by significant debris, however the resulting billowing clouds from the crashing quickly engulfs their overall position.

Before they have the chance to relocate or investigate, ambushing concussive shots start to ring out.

In the blinding fog of dust and debris the soldiers’ heads begin to explode, chests concave and limbs torn free.

Like the others, Meekie’s visor lights up the easy scrambling targets prime for taking out. Several try to shoot back, but none strike very close to the attackers. Yet the ambushers know to not linger once the skimmer turns its cannon which no doubt has sensor tech capable of weeding them out.

Bugging out before any can be spotted, they all rush to new planned locations to take more shots to further confuse where they are. They spend even less time at their secondary location however, and immediately hurry to their third phase of the plan.

A Z’ah’tuck staggers backwards in the fog holding up what remains of a shot Cali as a shield in one hand, and a plasma rifle in the other. She takes potshots at the sounds of her foe’s rifles, but frustratingly can’t confirm if she aims true.

Yet the enemy shots do eventually die off, but she doubts her allies returning fire’s success is the reason for it.

“Want us to chase you away…?” she figures in a quiet hissing snarl, “Expose us further? I don’t think so, vermin…” she turns to the direction where the skimmer is, “Do you see them?” she demands over the comm.

“Negati- Wait, there’s- OH STARS!” The Cali driver responds before being completely cut off in a scream.

“Skimmer!? What is it? Respond!” the Z’ahtuck orders as her mane of feathers expand in arising fear.

Suddenly more arm’s fire roars out from all around her. Including flashes of plasma that reveal blurry moving silhouettes of close-quarter engagement.

Seeing a figure rush towards her, she takes aim and blasts them dead on.

A charred hole melts right through a Cali which lifelessly topples over in a forward roll.

Stepping up, the Z’ah’tuck snarls in frustration at the sight of an ally uniform. But the frustration is immediately replaced by immense fear as a long green light ignites in the hand of a dark figure with reflective vertical orange visor slits. The Terran-shaped being stands not ten feet in front of her.

In sheer panic, she throws the Cali corpse shield right for the being that reeks of death.

Of course the swordswoman easily smaks the body aside as she charges forward and swings her green crystal blade.

Instinctively the Z’ah’tuck raises her rifle defensively, but in an instant the rifle is split in twain, before she is then separated from her right arm.

Staggering back quickly in blinding pain, the dino screeched in a signal to flee.

Turning she dashes for her life, but in a miraculous turn of fate the skimmer swiftly approaches her.

Manically barking in relieved laughs she points back with her remaining arm at the sword-wielding Terran gleefully who appears to be standing still in defeat.

“Shoot! Shoot!” she orders as she waits to watch the foe be obliterated.

The cannon lowers and takes threatening aim, tapping the end right in the back of the Z’ah’tuck’s head.

Before her brain can process what just happened, it is rendered into a fine mist as the cannon fires.

“Troy! What the fuck!?” Simone shouts as the danger-close shot lands in the ground between her and the Skimmer.

“Shit-shit-shit, I’m so fucking sorry! I swear I thought I hit the broadcast switch!” Troy responds quickly, “It’s super cramped in here! Sorry! Are you okay!?”

“Yeah…” Simone replies as she leans down to rest her hand on her knees for a moment, “Fuck’s sake, okay… Everyone still alive?” she asks.

Not too far away, Meeki and Nodrin hold six surrendered Cali at gunpoint.

“Meekie and I have found success. Have six surrendered, what do we do?” Nodrin replies.

“Well we made enough noise it doesn’t matter if they report us. Just keep them there and have them drop their weapons and comm equipment.” Simone instructs, “Chak? You okay?”

The cluster of six Cali upon order of the Gratt drops anything that has a comm connection or potentiality to be a weapon. Just as they finish doing so, they all see something as the fog begins to settle.

Glimmers of gold.

“I’m fine.” the approaching Chak confirms.

Her armor still smeared of charcoal, now has streaks where the gold plates underneath shown through in great contrast. Though the sight of a Queen seemingly caked in ash, soot, and the fallout of war was the most striking to those watching.

The surrendered Cali at the realization of who they stand before all have mixed expressions of shock, surprise, shame and fear.

“Who’s the highest rank of you who remains?” Chak sternly addresses them.

The group look to each other as if to evaluate what to do, but the one with the most defiance in their stature steps forward.

“That would be me.” A middle-aged male confirms, “Lieutenant Krik’ossa.”

Chak nods and removes her helmet and holds it at her side. A risky action, but she needed these soldiers to see her in the flesh. Jostling her pulse rifle, she gestures to the highest ranking male.

“Remove your helmet, Lieutenant Krik’ossa.” she orders.

Hesitating as he eyes the rifle in the ‘Queen’s’ possession, he complies and lifts his far more simple protective headwear. But before he can react, Chak strikes her horns against his in a snapping challenge with sheer authority.

Staggering back in shock not only from the act, but the fact it was a so-called ‘Queen’ that did it. He was so thrown off his mind doesn’t even humor the idea of striking back in any sense of challenge.

Acknowledging this, Chak placed her helmet back on.

“Leave my palace grounds. And pray that our mother moon doesn’t see fit to have your own air forces gun you down.” she commands in a hardened order.

Having watched the work of the new fighter craft from this distance and hearing the reports of how brutal it was for the attacking forces, the six Cali can’t help but to look over the Queen’s current appearance and the broadcast she made earlier.

She was the real thing.

Her words were not of empty grandeur or hyperbole. She’s a true successor of the first Queen. A living legend who charged through Klat’s wrath and made it first to the palace proper. Certainly the content that the Cali people will reflect upon for generations.

‘The Queen of Ashes’, come to take back what is hers and mark her name for the rest of recorded time.

Chak presents herself that way, knowing her way was not nearly as horrid and brutal as others still fighting in that moment. But she allows these Cali to think whatever they may without correction.

Perhaps it may sway a few more hearts.

Almost as though given the instruction of a divine being sent down by their mother moon herself, the Cali obey her order and rush off without touching the piles of gear they leave behind.

Watching them all disappear into the haze, Chak gives the Gratt duo a nod and turns towards Simone’s location.

“Guess we have a key to get inside that hidden tunnel now, huh?” Troy says over comms.

“I’ll show you right where it is.” Chak agrees.