Chapter Text
Chapter 1: We All Become
Årundian Military Alpha Vanguard
First Company
Captain Rhæn Felwind
In the mind of every soldier, there is a maxim, carved into their minds from the moment they learn to walk and repeated until they set foot on the field of war.
Our war is righteous, we fight for what is right. The gods smile upon us, for we fight in their name. Those who die in the name of the gods will be exalted.
This creed is not unique to any one nation, much less its army. Each and every warrior sent to the front lines knows that they are the ones who the gods favor, and it is their cause which is just. From the greatest knight-commanders of the alpha vanguards to the unsung captains of the omega hunting hosts, this one truth is held above all others. When the orders come, and the lines of the killing fields are drawn, not a single soul walks forward in fear.
This is the greatest gift our leaders ever bestowed upon us. In their name we fight, and in the light of their gods, we will die.
***
Day 19 of the Fourth Moon of the Year 339 AV
Southern Border of the Nation of Årund
Alpha Vanguard, First Company
The First Company took the first steps onto the killing fields, their deliberate march towards the border of Årund and the jungle wall of the adjacent nation Tor’khuathan would set the pace and candor of the rest of the battle following their charge.
This tussle was to be no different from the dozens of successful encounters they had fought, and subsequently won. The vanguard had been given their marching orders at dawn, and within an hour, the captain and her proud alphas had presented themselves to the field of battle. Armed with arc spears and shields hummed with the sound of their repulsor fields, the captain ordered her brothers forward towards the enemy vanguard.
Captain Rhæn Felwind was no stranger to the crush of a vanguard charge’s inevitable melee. There was a certain comfort in being slammed against a wall of shields, something akin to a warm hug, and there was familiarity to be found amongst the ranks of her brothers thrusting their arc spears into the first gap they could find.
The march continued, the alphas of her First Company staring dead-ahead at their target: the green and brown-clad knights of the Tor’khuathan war host. Pheromones suffused the air around them, chemical messages thrown to the wind that belied the bloodlust of the warriors as they stomped across the land.
Rhæn paid close attention to the hormonal cocktail that swirled around her and invaded her nasal cavities. Careful observation of a platoon’s pheromone production allowed her to gauge the morale of her brothers-in-arms, and right now it was running high. The scent reeked of sweat, iron, and burnt wood, communicating her company’s frustration with the tactics of their enemies thus far.
For days upon days, the vanguard of the Årundian military had pressed the line of Tor’khuathan’s control further and further back towards the jungle wall that marked the end of Årund and the beginning of the savage nation. Only each time they advanced, the enemy seemed almost too eager to give up what meager distance they had gained previously. While at the same time, their sniper squads had taken potshots at them from the safety of the treeline.
For an alpha, the thought of being toyed with by your enemy was infuriating on its own. But, to be harassed by the back line reserve of omega infantry and ranged specialists was maddening. Rhæn knew this all too well, as every single one of her charges so far had resulted in the enemy vanguard’s retreat and the telltale whistling song of gauss rifles aimed at her center mass. Her own fury boiled beneath her skin, causing her scent glands to pour pheromones into the surrounding area without reprieve.
But at last, the enemy seemed to have gathered its courage, for their substantial vanguard was making a beeline for Rhæn and her alphas.
“Brothers, our time is now. Spears up!” she barked. The First Company reacted in quick order, bringing their arc spears to bear on the encroaching enemy force. The atmosphere began to hum a low droning chorus, brought on by almost two-hundred repulsor fields being activated at the same time.
“Shields, at the ready! First platoon, fall in line!” her commands rippled across the battlefield, volume amplified by the vox piece that every soldier wore in their right ear. The Tor’khuathan vanguard was now less than three-hundred paces away, you could practically see their overblown pupils bearing down on the First Company. Rhæn began her final battle litany, turning to address her brothers.
“First Company! What do we fight for?”
“For our homeland!”
“What do we offer our homeland?”
“Our lives!”
“What are our lives worth?”
“As much as the gods see fit!”
“What is our reward for victory?”
“Glory and honor in the eyes of the divine!”
“What is the reward for death? What do we as soldiers stand to gain?”
“EXALTATION!”
Rhæn leveled her own spear, its tip pointed at the heart of the approaching war band, and with a single whistle, the hounds bolted towards their enemy.
***
Alphas are bred for confrontation, their biology serves violence in every way. In the middle of a melee, caught between two opposing vanguards, only an alpha’s enhanced strength, durability, and superior reflexes can ensure each soldier has a fighting chance.
Captain Felwind knew this well, as an alpha herself. Corded muscles dominated every surface of her body, her body lean but not as defined as her male alpha brothers-in-arms. From the moment she was pulled from the vat wombs, Rhæn had been groomed to be a warrior. Perhaps, by some stroke of luck, her lineage being that of high-ranking alpha officers allowed her life to encompass more than just combat. Her endurance and reflexes outstripped most, and she made up the small differences in strength and durability with dedication to warcraft.
Standing her ground, shoulder to shoulder with the First Company, one would not be able to identify her as out of place amongst the chaos. The only noticeable difference, of course, was that she was giving the orders.
“Platoons three and four, disengage, the enemy is readying a counter charge. Meet them head-on, we will hold the line!” Vox pieces across the First Company relayed her orders, causing a ripple among the line as the two squads positioned themselves. The enemy knew their counter push had been caught, but this far into the battle, there was no time for further readjustments.
Rhæn turned away from her post on an elevated bank, and began to move towards the new line of contest, where her soldiers were already positioning themselves to repel the incoming splinter charge.
“We will hold this line, do you hear me?” She roared, and the First Company howled their assent. Taking her place in the midst of her brothers, Captain Felwind turned to stare down the oncoming wall of spears and shields.
“Tor’kuathans want to take your home from you. They will sweep through our lands, tearing down whole sectors if we fail here!” snarling and baring of fangs was all that met this statement, as the First Company established their line.
“If we die today, our families will not live to see the–”
Incoming vox transmission
Rhæn froze as her communicator buzzed in her ear, the channel meant for officers broadcasting new information for the front line.
“FALL BACK, ALL VANGUARD FORCES, FALL BACK.” the voice of high commander Terin blasted through the vox.
“THE TOR’KUATHANS HAVE A BEOWULF. REPEAT, ALL VANGUARD FORCES FALL BACK, BEOWULF IN RAN–”
The vox transmission was cut off as a baritone whistle filled the air, temporarily calling the battlefield to stillness. The tone grew longer, louder, more insistent as something became visible between the trees of the jungle wall.
“FIRST COMPANY, FULL RETREAT, REPORT TO DEFENSIVE STATIONS.” Rhæn barked through her comm unit as she tore across the battlefield towards the defensive line, rallying her brothers do peel away. After emerging from the dark of the canopy of the jungle, Rhæn knew without a doubt what it was that caused the high commander himself to order a full retreat.
“Beowulf” does not describe the weapon the Tor’kuathans rolled into battle. The name itself is older than history itself, and every good soldier knew that when a weapon has a name and reputation that precedes his great-grandfather, you don’t stand around waiting to see what it’s capable of. Rhæn knew, however, that a Beowulf was a long-range high energy beam cannon, used specifically for obliterating areas larger than the average home in Arund.
There was just one other problem, Tor’kuathans did not have access to the knowledge, nor tools, nor fuel to have brought the weapon on their own. Whoever supplied the war machine to them must have known that it would be rendered useless after a full deployment.
Which means whoever gifted it to the Tor’kuathans was either wealthy enough or foolish enough to allow a weapon of such power to be discarded after a single battle. Rhaen was allowed only a moment to think before everything she thought she knew came tumbling down around her. A second low whistle joined the incessant drone of the first Beowulf, which itself became a loud, low grumble that shook the earth.
The vox unit in Rhæn’s ear practically exploded with sound.
“ALL UNITS FALL BACK, THE BEOWULF IS FIRING, THE ENEMY HAS TWO. REPEAT THE ENEMY HAS TWO CANN-”
The broadcast died in a flash of green and blue flame as the first Beowulf loosed its destructive payload towards the forward command center. In less time than it took to blink, the ground around the area was ejected upwards with the force of a volcano. Whatever debris that was not thrown outwards was thrown hundreds of feet upwards in a roaring column of plasma. There were only moments now as Rhæn thumbed her comm unit.
“First Company report back, we will rally for a tactical retreat towards the nearest stronghold. Brothers, we have lost this battle.”
Her hand fell limply as she observed the wreckage of the battlefield strewn before her. But once again, the enemy proved themselves to be more prepared for this attack than the Arundian army.
“Captain Felwind! Gunnery sergeant Lomon reporting!” Rhæn turned to see one of her younger alphas sprinting towards the embankment where she stood.
“Report, sergeant.”
“Sir, the second Beowulf has repositioned. I don’t know what they could be aiming at since they hit forward command.”
Rhæn wasn’t given time to think, as the worst possible truth revealed itself moments later. The second cannon was aiming towards- no, above them. But, why? There wasn’t anything in this direction except…
The omegas
Rhæn turned on her heel, sprinting with all the force her battle-worn body could provide. The omega support unit still hadn’t evacuated, and if the majority of them were still there, that meant–
“ALL OMEGA UNITS CLEAR THE AREA, BEOWULF IS FIRING!” Rhæn screamed into her comm unit. “GET OUT OF THERE, ALL OF YOU!”
The horrible whistling noise grew louder, the second Beowulf was readying its first shot. She wasn’t going to make it, they were all going to die, shewas going to die. A lone voice broke through the vox band. A singular, melodic voice, light as the wind and as beautiful as the stars.
“Rhæn… I love y–”
The omegas were so close, so close, she could reach them, she could save them.
“ALTIRAH!” Was the last sound Rhæn heard before her world turned green and blue, and the ground beneath her feet disappeared.