For once, Ryke wished he could get out of his Hunter-Killer.

The camera feeds from Brekka's wall positions were being piped down to his HUD so he could see what was happening, but that somehow made it worse. The wall tops were not designed to accommodate the bulky war machines, which left him and his squad hunkering behind the massive fortification, getting a real time image of what was waiting for them on the other side.

"Sure hope they're right about us ducking back here like this," Preese murmured uneasily. "That's a whole lot of heavy coming our way, and we're giving them free shots."

"These walls have taken worse that what the north can offer," Brigg growled.

Ryke wasn't so sure. He'd seen the kind of power the northern armour could bring to bear. Not the ideal units for fighting Scraegans, maybe  without support they could be outmanoeuvred and overrun – but properly protected, they could be deadly in the right hands.

On the HUD he watched as rank after rank of northern units spilled out onto the plateau, lines of tanks and artillery taking up bombardment positions, Hunter-Killers and scouts moving forward to screen them, mobile infantry columns preparing to exploit any breach – any gap. Brekka's gunners stood to their posts, watching and waiting to trade salvos.

All of it was right outside those walls.

"Everybody just remember our orders," Ryke said quietly into the squad-wide. "Hold positions unless there is a breach to the wall or gate. Let them filter into the outer districts then hit them hard."

"This is crazy," Qadira hissed, her voice tight. "I can't... why would they do this?"

"Maybe they won't," he replied, doing his best to sound reassuring. "We've got comms back. You know everybody above our paygrade will be trying to put a stop to this before we all start killing each other."

"Ryke, sir, I'm not sure I can do this."

Ryke flexed his jaw, feeling the low ache throb in the metal half. "Just stay steady, Medea. Let's just hope it doesn't come to that, alright?"

The comms lapsed into silence – at the least those that Ryke had access to. He watched and waited with growing worry as the northern army swelled and swelled. Even after the sneak attack by the fire-furred Scraegan rebels, the army outside the walls had them outnumbered easily three to one.

Beside him, Grunn let out an uneasy grumble.

"Yeah, tell me about it," Ryke muttered. The Scraegan and his pack of warriors had been forced to pile into Brekka along with them, while the rest of the force Grunn had brought had little choice but to back off to a safe distance. The Scraegans couldn't help them now.

Realistically, there weren't a lot of people who could.

"Forge-CC1 to all units," the voice of a brusque adjutant cut across the comm link sharply, overriding every channel. "Standby for defensive operations. I say again, standby for defensive operations."

"Everflowing bloody River," Erin breathed from within her patched up Goliath mech. "Those lunatics are really going to do this."

"Easy, Two-Step." Ryke took a deep breath and exhaled. "Just wait."

Several minutes later, it seemed like the north had finished their deployment, their full strength now spread out to the south west of the city in a vast arc that encompassed almost half the city perimeter. Thousands of guns on both sides; humans taking aim at humans.

This couldn't happen. Ryke tried to tell himself that over and over. Now that everyone could actually speak again, surely this had to be the end?

But the rumours had spread like wildfire through the Brekkan army since they'd withdrawn behind the walls. The talk of saboteurs who'd tried to seize the comms; tried to force such a state of chaos among Brekka's armed forces that the north could just walk in the front door. Out there somewhere stood the accomplices, people who'd had enough of Brekka not doing as it was told.

Now he would find out how far they were willing to go.

His auditory filters picked up the snarl of traversing gears, and he glanced to the wall top. Three of the quad-barrelled heavy cannons were in his field of view, and all of them were traversing, taking aim at targets.

"Enemy units have closed to within effective range," the adjutant announced. "Section commanders are directed to engage with counter-battery fire. Repeat, counter-battery fire."

"Gonna make them shoot first," said Preese. "Guess we'll go down in history as the good guys, eh?"

"I wouldn't count on it," Ryke muttered.

Minutes continued to crawl by, and with each one that passed, he felt his muscles coiling tighter with anticipation. He needed something to happen, but silence settled on the Brekkan plateau. It was like the whole tableau had been frozen in time by some omnipotent being. His fingers flexed inside his gauntlets; Grunn tossed his head and paced impatiently, clunking skulls with his warriors as he moved down the line.

Then the comm link erupted, blare of static that made him hiss in surprise, but before he could vent his anger, the adjutant's voice spoke again. Instead of the brisk, matter-of-fact orders that had come before, however, this time the man sounded stunned.

"All units, all units," he blurted. "Relaying emergency flash traffic message. Authenticated, Rubicon Commissariat priority message carried across all frequencies. Identification confirmed, Commissary-General Valeria Xanthus, chief minister of Rubicon Commissariat. Message relayed as follows."

Ryke's brows climbed in shock in the intervening moment of silence, before a woman's voice sounded throughout the blanket comm link, a voice like taut iron.

"To all Rubicon, Brekkan and allied units currently engaged in hostile operations," Xanthus declared. "My name is Commissary-General Valeria Xanthus, ranking officer and chief minister, speaking to you from the Commissariat chambers in Rubicon. I am ordering an immediate cessation of hostilities and a withdrawal of all northern forces to their base camp. I say again, I order all units in the expeditionary force under the command of Marshall Llewellyn to withdraw to their base camp.

"We have uncovered irrefutable evidence that your current conflict has been engineered by subversive elements both within Brekka, and within the hierarchy of Rubicon's military and political leadership."

"Everflowing..." Ryke breathed in disbelief as she continued.

"Extremists have allowed themselves to be blinded to larger threats. They would sooner engage in fratricide before accepting that our war with the Scraegans is over. We are acutely aware of similar elements within the Scraegan hierarchy that have acted in the same way, with attacks on human forces in the south. These are isolated incidents that do not speak of a unified threat.

"At the conclusion of this message, should any soldier in any capacity continue with hostile action towards their comrades, they will be subject to summary execution, on charges of sedition and treason. There will be no exceptions. This message is being carried across all Brekkan and allied frequencies. I know damn well that every single one of you can hear me right now.

"With confirmation of cessation of hostilities, I will personally be arriving in Brekka to host talks between all injured parties, and to unify us against the real threat. The threat that comes from much further than any Scraegan or human being. I hand you over to Minister Lanto Numitor, who has been leading investigations in this matter."

He could barely believe what he was hearing. Ryke's mouth gaped open dumbly as he tried to decide how shocked he should be. Another voice came over the comm now, this one a man, sounding more world-weary than the Commissary-General, his voice gruff – almost hoarse.

"Every one of you knows about the Crawlers," he began flatly. "We killed them, together, north and south. But there was more to them than just some creatures beneath the sands. They were placed on this world by something else. Through weeks of painstaking research, both by teams from Brekka working in the Scraegar Labyrinth, and my own Archivists and engineers, we have not only detected a signal being broadcast from a facility beneath the labyrinth, but also a ship now approaching our planet's atmosphere. While you make war on each other, there is an alien vessel about to land right on top of you.

"We don't know what's going to come out of it, but we have enough evidence to support that whoever is inside that ship, they are the ones who placed the Crawlers here. That means they are not our friends. They will be landing in Brekka's southern hemisphere in two days."

Ryke scrubbed his hands over his eyes. This was too much now. Too much to swallow all in one go. He was just a soldier. Just a normal soldier trying to do his duty. He didn't sign up for politics and alien invasions.

"This information was not shared publicly, until now. We were still gathering data, but our hand has been forced. Every single soldier, every one of you in Brekka and beyond, you picked up arms to defend Rychter – to defend our right to exist on this world. When then vessel arrives, I assure you, you will have the opportunity.

"I am well aware how this sounds. Anyone who doesn't believe what I'm telling you, I invite you to take a good look at the sky," Numitor told them, "because the sky doesn't lie."

For the first time in a long time, Ryke looked up.

*

"So that's it?" Ryke murmured, squinting against the blaze of the twin suns.

Beside him, Ivy nodded, shielding her eyes with one hand. "Yep. That's what they found when we sent them looking."

"Watching Lords." He shook his head bleakly, still trying to wrap his mind around it.

A new, dark star in Rychter's sky, edging closer by the hour. The expanded briefing packet from Xanthus's staff had jarred his view of the world in a way he didn't feel equipped to handle. Even when Ivy had explained it to him, step by step, he still struggled. He'd spent so long on the ground, in the dust and the sand and the grit, that looking out beyond Rychter's skies was a new experience.

The smudge still didn't have much shape to the naked eye, but it didn't belong there. Close enough to the planet now, he could see it making its way south, down towards the Scraegar Labyrinth and the strange facility Ivy and her fellows had uncovered what felt like a century ago.

"Did you know, this whole time?" he asked quietly.

"About the ship?"

"Yeah."

Ivy shook her head. "After the Scraegan attack we got a distress call off and that's the last I heard of it. I'm not exactly high enough up the brass bars to get a call from the Commissary-General herself. I just knew there was a signal going out there. That there was something beyond this all."

He nodded, exhaling a long breath and leaning his elbows on the table. The rest of HK-Rupture were finally taking advantage of some well-earned rest down at the barracks, rolling in drinks and music along with half the armed forces in the city, revelling in the fact that an all out civil war had been averted.

Just.

But he hadn't been able to feel joyous. The message; the ship – it all just left him with a sense that something even worse was on the horizon. So here he was, standing on the Brekkan walls and brooding, until Ivy had tracked him down.

"You alright?" she asked, edging over and resting her shoulder against his.

"I guess I'm just... tired." Ryke managed a weak smile. "I'm tired of things being complicated."

"Everflowing, I'll drink to that." She took a sip from the canteen of shiner in her right hand, then offered it to him. "To simpler, times, eh?"

"To simpler times." He took a big gulp, big enough to make him gasp. He'd almost forgotten how hard Ivy's home-brew kicked. Clearing his throat he looked out onto the plateau where just a few hours ago the entire north had been getting ready to shell his home into oblivion. His eyes wandered over to the sea of lights of the northern encampment, and he wondered if they were celebrating too.

"What do you think's on that ship up there?" he asked.

"If I knew that, I probably wouldn't need to drink." Ivy sidled closer and pressed her lips to his cheek. "But you'll be ready. You always are. Ryke 'Lockjaw' Vannigan, pride of Brekka."

"Pissing Rivers, you'll make me blush talking like that." He turned, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her close until her head was nestled against his chest. Her fingers traced idle patterns over his jacket and she let out a contented sigh.

"Well, this is definitely a better reunion than last time," she said. "How long until that thing gets here?"

"They said two days."

"Two days." She shifted, straightening up and tracing kisses across the metal plate of his jaw until she found his lips.

He relaxed into her embrace, his muscles finally unwinding after days and days of being constantly on edge. His shoulders and neck still ached; his toes and fingers tingling with the remnants of the Hunter-Killers neural interface. No matter what he felt in his mind, his body needed some time to recuperate.

They eased a part a little, Ivy's calloused fingers gently stroking the side of his face as she looked at him.

"What do you think's going to happen in two days?" she asked quietly. "What happens when that ship lands?"

"Knowing my luck," he chuckled. "I'm going to be the one they send to knock on the door."