The Green Tide

All he could see, over and over again, was the huge green form of the alien, lobbing its primitive explosive an unbelievable distance. Aun’Ui Sa’cea Bentu’Cal, may his name be honoured, had been leading from the front. His serenity and his calm exhortations to fight on cut short as the crude device landed in the midst of his bodyguard. The grenade’s casing rupturing in the explosion, by accident or design, and cutting apart the ethereal and the heart of the Tau resistance with shards of metal. The disciplined barrages of the fire caste warriors, had faltered and then stopped altogether as the horror of realisation spread among the troops. The aliens sensing their moment had come shot like bullets into the Tau lines, their jetpacks, like some crude imitation of a crisis suit gave them the speed to avoid most of the incoming fire and they howled out litanies of hate and battlelust in their harsh alien tongue. While only a handful of these troops had made it to the centre of the compound their blades were reaping a heavy toll and they seemed to relish the close combat. Each alien fighter engaging individually and so closely that any support fire would take out more of the Tau than the enemy.

"Rally and Hold! For the greater good! Keep them off us!" Shas’Ui Sha’is yelled out desperate orders over the commlink. Hearing his superior’s orders jolted La’Vesa back into the present. The green tide of aliens on foot outside the complex had used the lapse in fire to close rapidly on the comms-tower, looking to get to close range where their ferocity and number would count for most. If the barbarians could be kept at a distance the outdated projectile weapons used by the aliens for long range combat were easily outmatched by Tau technology. La’Vesa himself had seen several of the primitive weapons explode and kill their operators, a risk that would have been unacceptable to even the kroot, but one the aliens took without seeming to give it a second though. The range and particularly accuracy of the Tau fire teams reaped a huge tally among the smaller, lighter green aliens but they seemed uncaring about casualties, herded forward by the larger leader caste. They were apparently happy to give their lives as nothing more than cannon fodder if that meant advancing on the enemy. La’Vesa could imagine giving his life for the herd - but giving it solely to attack another creature, what sort of insanity could make that choice seem a reasonable one?

His rifle at half charge La’Vesa retook his place at the battlements. Kroot auxiliaries were beginning to engage the jetpacked warriors and he had to trust that they would contain them as the fireteams dealt with the main threat outside. The huge square of the comms facility was the most heavily fortified building on the planet. Its main ramp was the only point of access from the ground designed to draw in and choke a frontal assault. Three layers of terraces gave overlapping fire support preventing anything from getting near without coming under massed fire. The wall's thick ceramic armour and sheer height, maybe twice that of a great carnax, made it a solid defensive position. Mazes of corridors and bunkers beneath it held enough supplies for tens of thousands. The Earth Caste had done its part to perfection. But the few hundred remaining defenders were not going to be enough to hold it. La’Vesa fired, somehow failing to hit anything despite the sea of aliens before him. He was only in the fire caste because his herd mates were there. While some of them had taken well to the warrior's path he had never been more than average in accuracy or rate of fire. Just one of the group, as all Tau desired to be. La’Vesa would have been just as happy to serve the greater good as Earth or Water caste, but that would have left him striking his own path and it took a special Tau to stand out. Now he was going to die with the rest of his herd killed by barbaric creatures that seemed to live only to fight.

There was a great ripping sound as if the heavens themselves were being torn apart. Some sort of rapid fire projectile weapon tore a nearby pathfinder in half and sent La’Vesa diving back into cover. Chunks of ceramic shattered from the battlements but they held. The sound cut off abruptly; maybe someone had disabled the weapon, more likely it needed to be reloaded. The cracks from the alien hand weapons had merged into a harsh almost static hiss. A lucky shot hit Ui’Sha’is and he staggered and fell, blue blood seeping out through the shattered armour of his chestplate. The body of another member of the fire team flew backwards. La’Vesa could not even tell who it had been. Some sort of heavy weapon had vaporised the head.

There was a background rumble from distant artillery, pounding some distant target into submission. It was the only evidence La’Vesa had that there were any other Tau alive on the surface of the planet. He chanced a look over the parapet and fired a shot that hit an alien in the shoulder sending it spinning to the ground. The creature opened its mouth in a scream of pain that was drowned out by the thunder of gunfire only to get straight back up and continue its charge.

A huge roar then a crash, one of the aliens’ primitive air or space craft had dropped something. Some sort of metallic pod had landed on the top terrace of the facility in the midst of a broadside squad. The capsule had crushed one of the weapon specialists as it landed. Hydraulics hissed and a hatch half opened, the aliens’ brute technology failing in a way almost unknown in the smooth perfection of Tau engineering. A huge foot connected and sent the malfunctioning door flying across the terrace crashing into a firewarrior and sending him sprawling. A mechanical construction as tall as either of the remaining broadside gunners strode out of the capsule. The basic form was not unlike a Tau though wider and bulkier but its crude hydraulics and metal patches where it had been roughly repaired made it look like it had been constructed in hurry. Alien symbols and fetishes covered its shoulders. One arm ended in a vicious looking claw, the other… La’Vesa had to double check, the alien war machine actually had a giant hammer on the end of the second arm. The two broadsides would have been able to blast it to pieces at range, but this close they were virtually defenceless. The monstrosities’ claw tightened around the head of the closest broadside and ripped it off. The second tried to back away but the laughable hammer swung in. A hammer, in the midst of a war between alien races, a hammer. A war of missiles, of beam weaponry yet the alien was using a hammer to destroy its opponent. The first blow shattered the broadside's arm and one of the shoulder mounted cannons, the second a knee joint, leaving the tau defenceless, unable to escape, as the hammer rose and fell, battering the weapons platform into a mangled heap of metal. Every gun on the roof turned on the monster all else forgotten, it survived for a second or two striding towards the nearest firewarrior team before the weight of the crossfire burned through its armour and it crashed to the ground a keening howl of rage mixed with static serving as a death cry.

The momentary elation at destroying the machine was swept away by La’Vesa's realisation that it had been nothing but a distraction. With fire directed inwards the external enemy had made it up the ramp. The kroot who should have used the choke point of the ramp to pin the advance in place long enough for the Tau firepower to wipe it out were occupied with the advance troops already on the roof and as the first shells began to land La’Vesa knew that the barbarian artillery was now directed at his position.

"Perimeter Breach." Reported the duty officer.

With those two words O’Nem realised his failure was complete. Tau doctrines described a strategy of hit and run, superior firepower, brought to a point then retreated, reorganised and turned on another part of the enemy force before they could react. It had nothing to say about what to do when retreating from one section of the enemy force simply brought you under the guns of another. Or how you could manoeuvre when it seemed like every ell of space was taken up by yet another implacable enemy warrior. How could you patiently wait and ambush a force that was everywhere. Or draw a foe into a trap when every warrior ran screaming joyfully into any ambush overwhelming it with numbers. The tau forces had reaped a huge tally but for every barbarian killed five rushed to take its place and the alien tide had not even been slowed down in the process.

With nowhere to go he'd ordered all remaining forces to find strong-points and defend as best they could. Any rational enemy would have concluded the losses that would be sustained taking the points by frontal assault would be hideous. Any rational enemy would have stopped. Switched to siege tactics perhaps. Given the time needed to evacuate the planet, or try to get a message through to Tau and plead for reinforcement or at minimum allowed him time to think. But then no one had ever accused the Res’La of being rational.

O’Nem looked at the tactical viewer, hoping that something might have changed. But no, the scattering of blue indicating tau forces were surrounded by a sea of green. An air caste technician had once explained that the tau visual acuity in the blue/green part of the spectrum made the two colours the easiest to pick out and assimilate. O’Nem had always thought the reason was deeper, the blue of ries’grass, of the ethereals the green of the venomous sharla berries. The colour of life and herd contrasting with the colour of danger. As he watched another group of blue blinked out, overrun by green coloured icons. A schematic depiction of blood and carnage seemed a universe away from the clean spare command quarters. The speed of the alien advance had caught them unprepared. No scouting or preparatory bombardments. Just a single wild charge that had left units massacred as they moved into position, the bulk of the tau vehicle strength caught in transit and overrun before they could form a semblance of a firing line.

He thought back to his briefings, he had not taken the aliens seriously. They had never been seen in this sector before and he had concerned himself with other threats. Could not even remember what the species called themselves. Barbarians: Res'La. One of many species that the Tau had encountered. Mindlessly hostile to everything around them, spread across what seemed like half the planets in the galaxy. Their wars with the Tau usually ending when they seemed to get bored, leaving to fight more of their own kind instead. He had never fought them himself but had heard tales. Many of the veterans of those wars had joked if they ever stopped fighting amongst themselves the Res'La could wipe out the Tau in a month. It no longer seemed a joke. They simply seemed to enjoy fighting sending vast armies into semi-suicidal attacks on much better armed Tau forces. And yet why not stick to such primitive and brutal strategies. They seemed to be working. Why not use blades, primitive projectiles and lashed together tanks when you could use so many of them that no superior technology could compensate for the shear numerical advantage?

The rank odour of fermented ries’grass permeated the command room, the fear of the commander and his subordinates becoming more tangible as time passed and the odds of survival dropped by the moment. Had they been given a few more hours they could have evacuated, chosen a better battleground than this valueless rock. But the increasingly rare communications from the fleet were not encouraging and the pitifully few shuttles that had made it to the surface intact had been pinned and then destroyed by enemy artillery and aircraft before they could be pressed into use.

“What now commander? Will you lead us from the front line?” El’Myr, his second, stood partially clothed in his crisis suit ready to join the battle. Normally the bravest of warriors even he had been unsettled by the violence of the alien assault and the death of their accompanying ethereal. Under normal circumstances he would have been begging to join the fray but now even he was hesitant, waiting for leadership, and O’Nem knew he was not the right Tau to give it. As strike commander of a small squad or even a more senior second role, O’Nem had always excelled. But without Aun’Bentu’Cal to give leadership O’Nem simply did not know what to do, his instinctive reaction to freeze and hide warring with his warrior training. But overriding both was the chill knowledge that the life and death of every Tau on this planet was now his sole responsibility. That responsibility was now paralysing him.

“Yes fight, I will... No. No. I must guide the overall strategy. Here. I cannot leave my post.”

“Nem’Savon...” He barely recognised his name without rank or caste. Maybe El’Myr was trying to reach him through their past friendship. But whatever words had been about to be spoken were drowned out by more pleas for help from the comm.

“Mass bombardment of upper terraces – do we fall back?”

The voice on the comm was almost drowned out by the background explosions and even here, deep at the base of the fortifications occasional tremors hinted at the fantastic volume of shells hammering down on the fortress. O’Nem wondered if El’Myr had been about to call him a coward, to ask if he knew that a commander's place was at the front at a time like this. To ask if he was afraid. O’Nem had been tasked with hundreds of missions, faced some seemingly hopeless situations, but always ultimately there had been someone else in charge giving the orders, setting an objective or target. Without the orders there was nothing but O’Nem's fear, of defeat, of failing his troops, of the unknown and unknowable aliens that even now closed in.

“Fall back by squads to the interior. Cover fire only.” El’Myr 's voice was calm and collected. Giving the orders his superior should have given. "Cancel the evacuation preparations. All personnel collect weapons and aid the defence. Draw the Res’La into the vehicle bay, we will focus our resistance there. For the greater good." He attached his helmet, gave a crisp salute and then he was gone, the faint hiss of the doors the only sound of his departure.

O’Nem willed his hand to move, to return the salute, but it had turned to stone. He tried to speak but his mouth was so dry he could not make a sound. If doctrine had permitted it he would have changed places with El’Myr, given up his command rank, but that would have been an admission that the late Bentu’Cal had been wrong in his decision. Even in death an ethereal’s authority could not be questioned like that. O’Nem looked towards the battle suit he should have been wearing already. It was carefully stowed in its recharging rig. Maybe it would be safer if he put it on.

The artillery had stopped, most of the roof was now in alien hands and even they did not seem to want to kill too many of their own warriors with friendly fire. La’Vesa crept down the fire-corridor towards the structure interior. Though this access trench was open to the sky it was nearly 8 metres deep and only 2 or 3 wide and it had proved a temporary refuge. Rounding a corner he froze. Maybe 60 metres ahead was a doorway, protected by an open armoured door leading to the inside of the comm-centre structure and the cover it would provide. However ten metres away, between him and safety, was an alien warrior. Fortunately it had its back to La’Vesa, knelt down in a way La’Vesa could never hope to imitate. The alien's knees faced the wrong way and its position made La’Vesa think there was something wrong with its legs. A moment later he realised it must be a comfortable position for the creature to take as it concentrated on its weapon, lying on the ground in front of it. Maybe it had some sort of blockage, solid round weapons were know to jam frequently, maybe just taking a moment in the relative calm to reload. Concentrating on silence La’Vesa crept forward and aimed his weapon. A close range head shot could end this. Three paces, four, he'd seen too many aliens shrug off horrific injury and continue attacking for him to risk anything other than a point blank shot. Just a little closer and he could fire, but something, maybe smell or some other animal sense warned the alien of his presence. Any tau would have automatically raised its weapon to shoot and been cut down by La’Vesa's superior fire position. But this was no tau. It left its gun without a thought and sprang at La’Vesa, teeth bared, arms reaching to claw at his face and the heavy alien slammed into him under the barrel of his rifle, sending the weapon flying and crushing the smaller, slighter tau to the floor.

La’Vesa reached for his weapon but it was far beyond him and the alien struck him repeatedly on the side of the head, his helmet absorbing just a portion of the impacts. Dazed La’Vesa tried to defend himself but while the alien obviously relished the unarmed combat the tau had spent little or no time learning the skills needed. His weak attempts to push the heavier alien of him were fruitless and the few blows he could land while drawing mild grunts from the alien had little effect. The alien shifted its position, knees resting on the tau's shoulders pinning him. Yellowed teeth bared in a grin of triumph the alien reached to a belt and a sliver of metal resting in it. The blade of the knife gleamed in the light and La’Vesa starred in horrified terror as the alien slowly, ever so slowly scraped it down La’Vesa's helm, then under, gently sticking into his flesh, pressure increasing, the first trickle of blood. La’Vesa whimpered provoking a bark of what could have been alien laughter. The smell of blood and fear mingling. The sharp pain and overwhelming fear blurring together.

A howl, then the alien was thrown backwards, a slavering snarling shape ripping out its throat. A kroot hound was now tearing at the monster, the alien’s knife lodged unnoticed in its side. The alien’s struggles grew weaker and then subsided altogether. The hound sensing the death of its opponent turned and regarded La’Vesa with feral burning eyes. Judging if the tau was threat, or food.

“Cha Da” the call came and the hound turned towards it, implanted orders overriding its killer instincts. As La’Vesa scrambled for his rifle the kroot beastmaster looked over the edge of the corridor then jumped down from the terrace above it. It landed lightly from a fall that would have killed a tau instantly then approached La’Vesa moving cautiously, birdlike, a momentary pause then lighting fast steps. It took in the scene the dead alien, bloodied firewarrior and kroothound.

“They're coming. Behind us. How do we get out?” the kroot asked. La’Vesa stood, using his rifle for support he leaned against on of the trench walls.

“I don't think there is any evacuation. I think we're trapped.”

The kroot hissed then grabbed La’Vesa by the shoulders, thin arms disguising incredible strength as he held the warrior off the ground at arms’ length.

“Kroot fight for the greater good, kroot not want to die for it here, tau use machines to get us out.” As it spoke the kroot pushed La’Vesa against the nearest wall. While La’Vesa had grabbed his rifle it was now caught lengthways between their two bodies and all he could do with it was try to push away the enraged kroot.

“If tau not have way out, what good is tau? Why fight for tau?” The pressure on his shoulders increasing with each word. La’Vesa knew that the kroot was working itself into a killing rage, the alliance between the two races lost in the bloodlust. La’Vesa prepared himself for death at the hands of what should have been a friend. For the second time in as many minutes his life was saved by another.

The kroot's head exploded shards of bone cracking from La’Vesa’s armour. One of the larger aliens, dark green and menacing, had rounded the corner, its weapon moving ready to put a second round through La’Vesa. Keening for its dead master the kroothound leapt at the monstrous figure and was caught one handed in mid-air. The alien almost contemptuously held up the struggling animal and inspected it before putting a clip of solid slugs through the creature. La’Vesa fired wildly as he backed away then ran headlong for the interior of the comm-centre and what ever transitory safety it could offer. Behind him there were small metallic noises, the methodical unhurried sounds of a killer preparing to put down another bothersome animal that was too much trouble to run after. 50 metres to the doorway, a click of a spent clip being disengaged. 40 metres, a dull thud as a the clip hit the floor. 30 metres, a second click as a new clip was put in place. 20 metres, a double snap as an arming slide was pulled and snapped back. 10 metres and La’Vesa dived and rolled, rounds pockmarking the ceramic around him. Shots rang out from the doorway and firing slits ahead of him, pulse rounds, inexpertly fired but in such quantity that the alien was forced to back into cover. La’Vesa crawled to safety and turned around adding his own fire to that of his comrades.

“Are you an officer?” The question came from a perfectly still tau in faded tan fatigues crouched at the firing slot. Terror had left him frozen holding his rifle in a fixed position, firing over and over again into a section of wall. Earth caste, and from the appearance he'd never held a rifle before in his life. Five or six others, none wearing any combat armour had taken positions by the door and were firing out, shots going wide as the kept themselves tucked in behind the door frame.

“Aim then fire. Don't waste your charge!” La’Vesa barked, his own fear masked behind his full face helm. The builder stood a little straighter and swung his rifle barrel towards the end of the trench where the alien had taken shelter.

"You two get this blast door closed and kill the lights in here - they'll silhouette us." One engineer dropped his weapon and began working on the control panel, the heavy reinforced door slid smoothly into place. Two others moved to the firing slots as La’Vesa looked around. The exterior door had lead to a large chamber. Weapons and vehicle spares were stacked all around neatly packed ready for the evacuation that had never come. Two doorways lead deeper into the complex. La’Vesa moved to examine the nearest door, it lead to a catwalk across another chamber, this one much larger with two damaged hammerhead tanks parked under the catwalk. Scattered tools were mute evidence of the haste with which the repair crews had left their posts. If they fell back here they could take up new fire positions and pick off the aliens as they entered. Maybe even find a way to use the tanks’ firepower against their enemies.

Before La’Vesa could try to organise the fighting retreat a scream came from the engineers, somehow an alien had reached the fire slot and was using a flamethrower. The unprotected earth caste workers were burning. One of the weapon stores caught light and a fireball swept over the tau, the heat fierce even through La’Vesa’s combat amour. The two tau at the right hand fire slot were now just burnt chunks of flesh. Another had been too close to the igniting weapons and had simply ceased to exist below the waist. At the left hand fire slot one brave earth caste member continued to shoot until a huge green fist reached in and dragged him through the slot. Arms and legs twisting and breaking as the body was forced through the narrow space. La’Vesa hoped the wretch was already dead. Massive blows began to rain on the armoured door as the remaining tau crawled away, burnt and broken wrecks. A pause, then an explosion ripped the door away and three massive green figures emerged through the smoke and debris. La’Vesa ran.

“That’s it focus fire on the entrance, keep them choked up. Second rank reload, first rank keep the fire rate up.” El’Myr gave clipped precise orders and in his head O’Nem could visualise the ranks of fire teams. Multiple ranks watching over the massive vehicle bay entrance turning it into a killing ground.

“Sir, they’re attacking from the rear.”

“They’ve found another way in.”

“Watch your back”

The comms system decended into a quick anarchy of despairing broadcasts. Many abruptly cut off. Besides the main doors there were only two ways into the vehicle bay and the aliens had found at least one of them. If the tau stayed they would be caught in a crossfire, if they tried to fall back the second entrance would quickly become choked with bodies.

Not willing to hear the massacre unfold O’Nem killed the transmission and turned to the tactical display. His eyes saw the last of the blue outposts swept away leaving the fortress as the last Tau bastion standing. A soft chime indicated an incoming signal and reluctantly O’Nem activated the comm. Again.

“Run’Shanelro do you copy.” The voice from the comm was unfamiliar.

“O’Nem, facility commander. I copy, who is this?”

“Kor’El Soo.” The name was unfamiliar.

“Where is the admiral?” asked O’Nem.

“ We’ve lost the Kor’O I’m the highest ranking officer left in the air caste.”

“Can you evacuate us?” O’Nem already knew the answer. The background alarms and explosions from the broadcast message speaking only too eloquently of the losing battle being fought amongst the stars.

“Negative, we’ve taken too much punishment. Their ships would just annihilate any shuttles while they were still in the air and we have no realistic way to defend them. At maximum evasion we’re still getting hammered. If we were forced into a static defence either their guns or their boarding parties would make short work of us. We have to retreat to a more secure system.”

“Leaving us trapped.”

“I’m sorry. I thought you deserved to know.”

“For the greater good.” O’Nem was amazed at the bitterness that came out in his words. The optimism and hope the phrase embodied turned to savage despair. Every tau knew that their life was only a part of the whole. This time it was his turn to be sacrificed. His failure had doomed those under his command to death and now the last chance of escape was gone. O’Nem punched the controls, silencing the comm System. There was nothing to say, no orders to give. Shas’O Sa’cea Nem’Savon. Fire caste commander. Born on Sa’cea. Named sharpeye for his hunting skills and his many notable victories. He may as well have been the lowliest of the recruits for all the good he could do now.

The great weight of command lifted with the realisation. There were no orders he could give. There was nothing he could say. No clever tactics, or masterful speeches. The laugh bubbled from somewhere deep inside. His helmet vox amplifying it as echoed round the command centre. His left arm flashed out, the pulse rifle built into his suit spat out a pure white burst and the hated comm unit exploded. Still laughing he strode into the corridor. A targeting rectical appeared to his right, and without thought O’Nem fired, the shot almost decapitating an enemy soldier. He began to run his suit boosting his speed. The corridor ended in a t junction. O’Nem stepped out and almost collided with a fleeing firewarrior.

Two aliens were in hot pursuit. O’Nem fired twice, each shot smashing into the centre of an alien chest. He took stock, scanning for more enemies, behind was a storeroom and a dead end as the firewarrior had just realised. In front the corridor from the loading bay, to the right the corridor past the tactical centre leading into the complex proper. O’Nem walked towards the two corpses, in death they seemed smaller than his imagination had made them. Barely larger than a tau. The green fatigues and body armour offering little protection against a pulse rifle. Large holes had been burned through revealing pink flesh and deep red blood. The guns the aliens carried were so pitifully underpowered they attached blades to the end of them expecting all conflicts to end in hand to hand combat. Their faces had been painted a mix of black and green in some sort of primitive camouflage. Babarians, Res'La, No wait, humans. That was their name.

O’Nem’s suit gave a proximity alert as a dark green shape filled the doorway that lead to the loading bay. O’Nem fired on instinct, shot after shot impacting on powered armour, every bit as tough as a crisis suit. Space Marine. His mind supplied another name. The armour was large and clunky compared to the battle suit he wore. While his sleek suit was designed to get him into firing range and out again, the humans amour was bulked up electronic muscle designed for close quarter combat and thick armour to make the close combat survivable. Though the alien’s suit appeared old and often repaired it was shrugging off most of the effect of the pulse rounds. O’Nem switched to his maximum fire rate. The brute staggered under the fusillade but raised its gun to fire back. A second volley from behind O’Nem smashed into the space marine’s arm throwing off its aim and the creature dropped to one knee its shots going wide. The explosive projectiles blasting great holes into the walls of the corridor. O’Nem was dimly aware of the firewarrior moving to his side. The two advanced, pouring fire into the alien until it finally fell and laid still.

“Commander...” the warrior began.

“Nem’Savon” O’Nem interrupted. “No rank here.”

“Kais’Vesa”

Shouts echoed from the loading bay. Strange alien calls, too deep and harsh for tau throats to imitate. They were coming from other directions as well. The space marine must have got a message out reporting their location. The two remaining tau stood back to back, instinctively trying to cover all of the angles.

“For the greater good.” Vesa muttered under his breath.

Nem watched as the distant shapes drew closer and cycled up his weapon systems. A strange peace settled over him.

“For the greater good.” He agreed.

And the tide of green swept over them.