When the Tau ships first appeared in the skies above Samora, panic reigned in Arkenfall.
The merchant class learned first. They understood the horror before anyone else: no cargo would ascend the Emperor’s Tether. No shipments would descend. Trade with the void had ceased.
A handful of desperate souls attempted escape in yachts and private vessels. The Tau, aware of humanity’s history of ramming tactics and suicide detonations, and unwilling to risk their fleet, vaporized the craft before they could clear the upper atmosphere.
The nobles were informed through more official channels.
Transmissions from orbit told grim tales of warships — crewed by sailors levied from their own cities and villages — torn apart in moments. Attempting to prevent mass hysteria, the lords ordered their men-at-arms to parade through the streets in polished armor while quietly preparing to raise the levies.
The commoners learned during afternoon mass.
As they exited the cathedral, children pointed upward toward the Emperor’s Tether and spoke of strange fish moving through the sky.
There was no effort to contain panic.
Some fled the city. Others crowded into chapels and shrines, kneeling before statues of saints and the God-Emperor, praying for deliverance.
A swelling crowd gathered before the gates of Grayhold, demanding their lords take action.
The men-at-arms raised lasguns.
Before they could give fire, the flak batteries roared to life.
Aspex arrays had detected the incoming strike.
From orbit descended a mixed formation of fighters, bombers, and strike craft — precise and silent until the moment they opened fire.
Commoners screamed and scattered. Every class of citizen braced for annihilation.
The city did not burn.
Explosions flared in the distance — bridges severed, supply depots destroyed, roadways cratered, shield generators tested and measured.
The strikes were calculated.
Military and logistical targets only.
Civilian casualties averaged fewer than three per engagement.
To the Elemental Council, this was more than acceptable.
So the bombardments continued.
When the sun rose on the third day, Arkenfall had adapted.
Banners still snapped above Grayhold.
Church bells rang on the hour — and before bombardments.
When they rang, guard shifts changed. Civilians bought goods at stalls. Those who had attempted escape were dragged from the stocks and hanged.
Every hour.
On the hour.
From sunrise to sunrise.
Above it all, the Emperor’s Tether rose into the heavens — silent, unbroken.
Life resumed beneath it.
The church bells rang once more.
The flak batteries had been annihilated the previous day. Now only the distant hum of engines pierced the air — the hollow, resonant drone of Tau bombers descending from the void.
A sentry upon Grayhold’s wall was the first to notice something different.
He knew very little of flying machines and nothing of aerial doctrine, but he was the son of a shepherd, and he understood the language of flocks.
These devil-craft were not behaving as before.
Previously they descended in scattered lines, breaking formation to strike bridges and depots before vanishing skyward.
Now they came as one body. Descending directly toward Arkenfall and Grayhold.
The sentry felt his throat tighten.
The specks on the horizon became shadows.
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
The shadows became shapes.
The shapes became thunder.
Panic returned in an instant. Civilians and soldiers alike dove for cover, bracing for annihilation.
The sentry waited for fire. He mouthed ancient prayers to the saints.
None came.
The bombers roared overhead but the sounds of annihilation never came.
In their wake, paper drifted down from the sky.
They fluttered through streets and courtyards, settling upon cobblestone and market stalls.
Slowly, cautiously, the sentry emerged, picked up a leaflet, and began to read.
IMPERIAL CITIZENS OF SAMORA
THE GOD-EMPEROR WILL NOT DESCEND FROM HIS THRONE
THE TAU EMPIRE HAS COME
RESISTANCE IS UNNECESSARY
YOU ARE NOT OUR ENEMY
WE SEEK ONLY AN END TO WAR
UNDER TAU GUIDANCE:
- WORK IS SHARED
- HUNGER IS ELIMINATED
- MEDICINE IS UNIVERSAL
- LIVES ARE LONGER
YOUR FAITH NEED NOT BE ABANDONED
YOUR TRADITIONS WILL BE RESPECTED
THE TAU INTEGRATE — THEY DO NOT ENSLAVE
WHEN THIS WAR ENDS
YOU WILL LIVE
The sentry looked up from the xenos propaganda. He could hear a commotion in the streets.
When he looked over the parapet, he saw priests walking the streets, gathering the crowd behind them as they stooped to collect every scrap of paper they could find.
The procession swelled as it moved — merchants, laborers, mothers clutching children — all drawn toward the town square.
In front of the gallows, a second ritual was prepared. The leaflets were piled high and a torch was lowered.
The paper caught quickly, script curling black as it burned. Priests spoke prayers over the flames and the people answered. Their eyes lifted to what they knew connected them to the Golden Throne. The Emperor’s Tether would certainly carry their prayers to Him just as it carried their tithes.
***
Mira was thrown hard against his restraints as the Manta began its descent into Samora’s atmosphere.
The turbulence during the orbital engagement had been violent.
This was worse.
A constant vibration rattled through the hull, a bone-deep tremor that seemed intent on shaking flesh from frame. Sudden jolts followed as the gunship punched through layers of warmer and colder air.
He forced himself to look around the passenger bay.
Optical lenses glared back at him.
No one moved.
No one spoke.
No one betrayed fear.
He was grateful for the helmet sealing his own expression.
Across Samora’s skies, a dozen cadres rode within a dozen Mantas burning toward the surface. Twenty more Orca transports followed in staggered formation. Over a hundred fighters and strike craft swept ahead and alongside them.
This was not a simple raid or reconnaissance.
This was the invasion.
He had seen Aun’ui Ko’res again. Just before they boarded their craft to head to the surface. She hadn’t spoken this time, instead it was the Expedition Ethereal, Aun’Rel. He offered words of encouragement, reminded them this was a campaign of liberation, and their actions today would decide the fate of countless more of their comrades. Mira had caught Ko’res staring at him a couple of times, he thought it curious but didn’t dwell on it.
‘If I’m not dwelling on it, why do I think about her now?’ He silently questioned.
Gravity pressed him deeper into his seat as the Manta leveled from its dive. The vibration beneath his boots intensified — atmospheric drag clawing at gravitic compensators.
Mira closed his eyes and ran through the briefing in his mind.
Once leveled, the Mantas would make a single high-speed pass.
Battlesuits would deploy at designated strategic nodes. He pictured it clearly: rear ramp cycling open, wind screaming through the cargo hold as three XV8-class suits dropped from each carrier — thrusters igniting mid-fall, stabilizers flaring, contrails burning against the sky.
His cadre’s contingency element had been assigned upstream of Arkenfall.
Objective: seize the river village.
Secondary objective: facilitate denial of water supply to the city.
Additionally, XV15 Stealth teams would infiltrate along the river course itself.
A clean insertion. A surgical campaign.
The pilots banked left.
The battlesuit drop had been completed. Now came the final descent. Mira pressed the rail rifle a few Tor’ils deeper into his chest.
It was almost time.
Mantas screamed into their designated drop zones, landing thrusters firing and scorching the grasslands below.
The Cadre Commander and his bodyguard dropped during the hover, battlesuit thrusters flaring as they leapt from the vehicle bay to secure the landing zone.
Drones detached and loitered overhead, optics sweeping in widening arcs. Skysword moved down the rows of Fire Warriors, voice steady as he called for disembarkation readiness.
Just before they had loaded, Skysword had found him. All they exchanged was a smile, a handshake, and the words “For the Greater Good.” by Mira had felt him press something into his hand.
It was longer than a bonding knife — nearly the length of his forearm — its edges hard and angular, the final inches wickedly serrated. Skysword had said nothing as he had given it to Mira. It, along with its scabbard where tied to his belt at the small of his back. He had earned some questioning looks from the rest of his La’rua but they had so far said nothing.
Mira gathered his kit and stood. He focused on his breathing. On his pulse.
His mind resisted. It conjured chaos instead — death in narrow corridors, plasma flaring against ceramite, the shriek of Manta turrets laying suppressive fire into smoke and confusion.
The soft thump of landing gear touching soil jolted him back to the present. He unbuckled and dropped to one knee. Pathfinder La’ruas occupied the rear of the passenger bay, furthest from the embarkation ramp. Strike teams waited closest to the front, poised to surge outward.
He ran through his mental catolog of training holos.
Inserting troops during opposed landings
If disembarking under fire:
— Drones, battlesuits, and gunships saturate the ambush vector.
— Strike teams eliminate targets of opportunity.
— Pathfinders disperse immediately under covering fire.
— Breachers close and eliminate.
If unable to close:
— La’ruas organize controlled withdrawal.
— Pathfinders establish and mark rally point.
— Units withdraw by echelon to establish layered defense.
Light flooded the bay as the ramp descended.
Two columns of Fire Warriors streamed out.
Boots hit earth.
Formations fanned outward.
Weapons raised.
No fire came.
Pathfinder teams deployed to the flanks, ready to advance.
Mira shifted to the next scenario as he jogged alongside.
‘The enemy may act as a waiting predator, allowing forces to consolidate before striking.
Disperse before opportunity is seized.’
His La’rua advanced from the LZ
Breachers pushed into the treeline to clear the perimeter. Strike teams established overlapping fields of fire as Mantas lifted skyward once more. Orcas descended to offload prefabricated structures and logistical equipment — the beginnings of a cadre forward outpost.
“Commander Stillwaters reports no enemy contact across any drop zone,” Tor’vael transmitted over the team channel.
A pause.
“Patrol posture. Advance to objective. The Commander’s Kau’Vral will serve as rapid response for all elements.”
Silence returned.
Only wind moved through the grass.
No birds sang in the trees.
Livestock had retreated deep into the fields.
Smoke rose from the chimneys of the nearby village.
But no voices carried on the air.