Lanto watched the reports unfolding from the southern front with growing dread. The map in the Brekkan Commissariat war room did not make for pleasant reading. Green indicators winked out one by one, marking the towns, settlements and defensive posts that had either fallen, or were in the process of being rapidly evacuated in the face of the alien advance.

Their new foes showed no sign of slowing down. Like a great dark wave, they spilled from their vast ship in all directions. It had started in Ozzmar, and that brutal, lopsided killing match had set an unwelcome tone for the rest of the fighting.

His eyes came to rest on the green blip that marked the position of Crescentscar, the only remaining southern bastion of any strength. If it fell – and he suspected that it would – then there would be nothing between the alien swarm and Brekka. He tried to gauge just how many of them might still come from that ship.

Everflowing, how he wished he knew more. He itched to get inside it, to pry its secrets loose and turn that knowledge on the murderous things that it had brought to his home. Cold, righteous anger simmered in his veins as he examined the map. Their new foes spilled in all directions, ploughing into Scraegan territory just as aggressively, and with apparently just as much success. Long range scouting sorties had shown that even the sheer brute force of the Scraegan war bands struggled to contain them.

"We'll consolidate our firepower on the plains around Crescentscar," Commissary-General Xanthus declared, snaring his attention once more.

Her fingers danced across the controls, bringing the map zooming in on the terrain surrounding the valley. The fortified town nestled within the walls of a rocky valley, a natural choke point in conventional warfare. Its seismic defences had been sufficient to dissuade the Scraegans over the years, but he doubted they would be enough to halt the encroaching army.

"They are approaching from the south, straight and true," she continued. "We'll deploy artillery batteries and tank divisions, here, here and here."

Green three dimensional triangles shimmered into existence at her movements, marking high points to the north of the valley. The tactic was straightforward: screening the town with heavy bombardment all along its approach, but the commitment of resources made him feel more than a little sick. At a rough count, he estimated Xanthus wanted to throw almost sixty percent of the northern armour to the defence of the town, not to mention the contingents of hardened Brekkan Hunter-Killers, scouts and militia.

She kept talking, but Lanto found his mind wandering.

He looked to the sky. He thought of Wink, that little moon circling out there billions of miles away, and wondered what secrets it held. What brought these creatures back to Rychter? Why had they left the Crawlers here Lords-knew how long ago? And having abandoned their creations here, what had brought them so violently back to Rychter? 

Was it all just an experiment gone wrong? Were the Crawlers some precursor to colonisation?Had the humans here interrupted some process thousands of years in the making when they killed the Crawler queen?  Humans had been here for two centuries; the Scraegans far longer than that, and the insectoid overlords had stayed away.

His head hurt with the questions, and he forced himself to look back at Xanthus's unfolding battle plan. It looked like a hideous, brute-force gamble to beat the alien advance to a standstill. The carnage at the other outposts had at least yielded the knowledge that their foes were not indestructible. They could die.

Lanto wondered what the cost would be, however.

"We need to meet them in the open," Major Kwendo interjected, his expression violent as a volcano. "In the streets, with no room to manoeuvre, its a death trap. Our Scouts and Hunter-Killers need room to manoeuvre, or they're ineffective."

"We'll make sure we have a screen of mines that force the enemy force towards the choke points at the edges of the valley," Marshall Llewellyn put in, pointing out the edges of Crescentscar. "When they are concentrated there, we'll pound them with every piece of ordnance we have."
"What about the people in the town?" Hackley asked, though her tone made it clear she already suspected the answer.

"They will be evacuated. We have six days until the enemy advance reaches the valley." General Bosede's shoulders heaved with a heavy sigh. "Essential personnel and their local militia volunteers will remain to aid in the defence. Everyone else will be brought to Brekka."

"We can't house every single human being in the south here," Minister Khazwari growled. "Our refugee camps are already at breaking point. We had only just started to repopulate towns lost to the Scraegans before this happened." He looked pointedly at Xanthus. "We need to start sending people north, to Helloc Mera and Conossia. They'll be safe there. And if..." His jaw tightened, as though he didn't want to let the words out. "If we can't stop them at Crescentscar, Brekka will not be safe either. We need to be prepared for the worst."

"You mean evacuate the city?!" Hackley looked like she wanted to shoot him dead for even suggesting it. "You can't think that necessary."

"We should be prepared."

"And we will be," Xanthus snapped before the exchange could continue. "Colonel Hackley, I have no intention of allowing those creatures to make it this far north, but it would be foolish to not consider all eventualities. We will have plans drawn up – as a contingency only – in the event of a worst case scenario. However, I would appreciate it if you all turned your attention to defending Crescentscar, and ensuring we never have to make that decision."

Silence simmered in the air for a moment as the officers exchanged grim looks. Satisfied she had regained control, Xanthus returned her attention to the map.

"Now, to address Major Kwendo's point," she continued. "Hunter-Killer and Scout Cadre units will be deployed to the east and west, ready to counter attack when the enemy advance has been stalled by our sappers and artillery units. We will deploy a cascade of lightning strikes supported by light armour brigades. Once we push them back onto the plains our artillery will blow them all the way back to the River."

"What about the Scraegans?" Bosede asked.

"They appear to be falling back," Hackley answered. "As far as we can tell, the alien force is moving south in a rough wedge, driving towards the Labyrinth. There have been sporadic skirmishes but so far they don't appear to have slowed down. There are at least two major Scraegan holds that are now within alien-held territory. Whether they were evacuated or..." She spread her hands uneasily. "We don't know."

"We need to look after our own now," Kwendo snapped. "Even if we wanted to, we are in no position to help them."

Khazwari nodded grimly. "I must agree with the major. You'll have riots in the streets if you attempt to dispatch any kind of force south. Even if we do manage to secure our borders, I can assure you that the mood in the Commissariat is... not forgiving."

"I don't think anyone is proposing to dilute our fighting strength," Xanthus said. "But we need to keep eyes on the south. The Scraegans posses considerable combat power – it's only a matter of time before they gather for a counter attack. They'll never allow these creatures into the Labyrinth without a fight."

She twisted the map display again, zooming out along the front – the defensive axis which rested on the fulcrum of Crescentscar. "We stop them here. Right now, nothing else matters."

Lanto clasped his hands together and rested them on the table, leaning forward and catching her eye. Xanthus raised an eyebrow.

"Something to say minister?"

"Perhaps."

"You don't approve?"

"I didn't say that," Lanto replied, inclining his head respectfully. "Perhaps we can defend the town. Perhaps we can secure our borders in the south, for now. I think, however, we may be missing the bigger picture."

"And what is that?"

"Even if we can somehow stop the things this time," he continued. "Who knows how many more of them are out there?"

"That ship can only hold so many," Bosede grunted.

Lanto resisted the temptation to roll his eyes. "Everflowing, I'm not talking about the ship. I'm talking about out there!" He jabbed a finger skywards. "Out in space, on Wink, and beyond. We know nothing beyond our skies. So what if we win this war? What if we drive these things back into that ship and blast it off the face of the planet, and then another comes six months later? Then another? And another after that?"

"You've made your point minister."

"Have I indeed?"

"So you're saying we can't win?" Xanthus gave him a grim look.

He shook his head. "That's not what I meant."

"Then what do you mean."

"I mean, defeating this force is meaningless without ensuring no-one else follows them."

"And how do we do that?" Hackley asked.

"Well, for a start, that communication mast in the Scraegar Labyrinth called them here," Lanto said, taking a sip of water. "As soon as we killed the Crawler queen, it started transmitting. And it will keep transmitting, even if we manage to stop them this time, it could just call more and more ships here until this planet is overrun."

The ghost of a smile gathered on General Bosede's features. "I take it you have a plan to address that, Minister?"

"More of an idea, than a plan at this stage," Lanto conceded. "But I believe it would be in all of our best interests if that transmitter was put out of action."

*

Brackenshaw was getting thoroughly sick and tired of being dragged into clandestine briefings. Never in her time as a soldier had they ever meant good news, so when a pair of Blackwater spooks escorted her through Stamm Basin to one of the lower levels, she felt nothing but frustration.

The military discipline that had been drilled into her for more than a decade was the only thing that stopped her from refusing the summons. She marched along, hands clasped tightly behind her back, her face a stony mask of barely contained anger. The memory of the failed defence of Ozzmar was still raw in her mind, a town that they'd spilled a lot of blood to reclaim, only to have it ripped out of their grasp again in a matter of hours.

Tactically, she understood that there wasn't much they could have done to stop it, but she still felt like a failure. Her skin itched with desperation to get back in the fight, to rectify everything that had gone wrong. The base already seethed with activity, fresh redeployment orders pouring from the Forge as they tried to recalibrate against the oncoming tide.

"In here, ma'am," one of the Blackwaters said gruffly, coming to a halt and gesturing to the closed door: one of many private briefing rooms in the bowels of Stamm Basin's command centre.

Not trusting herself to speak, she gave him a stiff nod, then shoved the door open and stepped over the threshold. Inside, she found Kelso Vannigan, Aurelia Belisarius, Colonel Hackley, and Minister Lanto Numitor waiting for her.

Brackenshaw stopped dead. The door clunked shut behind her.

"What's going on?" she asked flatly.

Kelso managed to find his smile, shifting awkwardly in his seat to reposition his injured leg. "Sorry to drag you in this, Lieutenant," he said, "but I think this is something you'll want to hear."

"Take a seat, Kaydie." Aurelia gestured to the handful of empty chairs. Brackenshaw frowned, unease prickling beneath her uniform before she eventually sank down into one of them, arms folded tight across her chest.

"Well, here I am." Her gaze shifted to Colonel Hackley. "With all respect, ma'am, this had better be good. I need to get back out there."

She knew she was skating a dangerously insubordinate line by speaking in such away, but she couldn't help herself. She didn't want to be here. Hackley, however, didn't seem concerned. In fact, she cracked a smile.

Brackenshaw didn't know whether she should be relieved or terrified.

"I understand how you feel, Lieutenant Brackenshaw," Minister Numitor interjected. Then he pulled face. "Kaydie – may I call you Kaydie?"

She made a vague gesture with one hand. "As you like."

"Good. Kaydie, you can call me Lanto. I'd rather not stand on ceremony, as what I'm about to ask you is... not for the faint of heart."

"I feel better already."

"I've reviewed your record, Kaydie," he continued, tapping a finger on the data slate in front of him. "You're a very good soldier. And then some. The people around this table recommended you to me."

"Recommended me for what, exactly?"

"You're familiar with the alien communications mast, in the Scraegar Labyrinth?"

Brackenshaw's frown deepened. "I know about it, if that's what you mean."

"And you know it's what brought that ship here?"

"Two plus two still equals four, doesn't it?"

Lanto chuckled. "Indeed. Well, we've reasoned that defeating the creatures that are already here is only half the battle. We have to try and make sure they don't come back."

"Ah." She receded back into the chair, making the grim realisation of why they'd brought her here. "So you want to blow up the comms tower?"

"I prefer the term sabotage," he replied, smirking. "But yes."

"And how the Everflowing River do you propose to do that?" Brackenshaw flapped a hand at the door behind her. "Those things are coming right at us. They're going to chew through Crescentscar like a piss-drowned buzzsaw and then they're coming here. This isn't the time for screwing around with your Blackwater schemes!"

"This is exactly the time," Lanto replied calmly.

Her fists clenched. "We need every able body here, ready to fight, but you want me to go on a suicide mission through half a continent of all out war, to try and destroy a glorified antennae."

"Lieutenant, I understand your reluctance," Hackley interjected, her voice tightening with irritation, "but I would appreciate it if you'd have the decency to hear Minister Numitor out."

Unclenching one fist, Brackenshaw flexed her fingers, trying to tamp down the anger inside her. Eventually she bit out a phrase.

"Go on then."

Lanto dipped his head to her slightly. "We require a small team, no more than half a dozen people. Whatever the outcome of this, it will not affect our defences."

"Half a dozen?" Brackenshaw blinked.

"You will have full operational discretion," Hackley said. "You will hand-pick the people who will accompany you."

"What you couldn't find any other volunteers?"

Kelso smiled bleakly. "Well, I would but..." He gestured to his leg. "I think I'd slow you down."

She squirmed. Every little piece of information was tearing in two. She would have insisted on hand-picking the troopers for an assignment like this, but that also meant she would be bringing some of her longest serving comrades – her friends – into what sounded a lot like certain death.

"So we're supposed to... what, exactly? Sneak all the way past the army that's knocking on our door, past that ship, past the Crawlers, the Scraegans and Lords only know what else? Even if I wanted to do this, we don't have the means."

"We still have the single-person skiffs," Kelso told her. "The ones we used for recon in the Crawler tunnels."

She shuddered. "I remember."

"I have a team in the process of refitting them for extended operations."

"Extended operations?" Her gaze flitted to Hackley. "How long is 'extended' operations supposed to be?"

"The techs estimate we can optimise the fuel load and fit auxiliary canisters to keep you going for four days. That gives you two days to get there, two days to get back."

"Bloody River, you're all serious about this?"

Lanto nodded. "I'm afraid so."

"Those little scout hoppers are quick, but we'll be virtually defenceless!" She shook her head incredulously. "If we are caught we're as good as dead."

"You won't be caught."

"How in the Everflowing are you going to guarantee that?!"

Hackley leaned forward, her lips pressed into a thin line. "We're throwing everything at Crescentscar."

Brackenshaw's mouth dropped open slightly in surprise. "A diversion?"

"Partially. No-one wants to let those things reach Brekka, but it is arguably a more defensible position, with the open approach of the plateau, defensive minefields, the wallguns..." She spread her hands. "But by putting our full force into Crescentscar's defence, we hope to pull enough attention to thin the enemy force. They've been advancing evenly in all directions, but if we give them something tough to chew on, we can draw more of their forces to us, opening corridors for your team to slip through."

"Riverlords." Brackenshaw rubbed at her eyes with one hand, trying to process all of it. "Alright, say that all works. Do we have a plan for actually destroying that tower? I read the reports from the dig site team. The stuff that facility is made from seemed pretty damned indestructible."

"We don't have the ordinance to destroy the entire facility, no," Kelso said, straightening in his seat and tapping his data slate. 2D projection emerged from it – a holographic display showing a snapshot of the tower's interior, "but we don't need to knock the damn thing down stone by stone. We just need to cut off the signal. A few well placed charges in the right place, and we believe we can shut that tower down for good."

"So what's our access route? Going into the Scraegar Labyrinth, who knows what we could run into. The single skiffs might get us that far overground, but in the tunnels is a different game."

"We're not sending you through the tunnels." He gave her an ominous smile. "There's more than one way into that facility, and its not from underground."

That did not put her at ease. "Meaning...?"

His data slate flashed, showing a diagram – an extrapolation of the alien comm tower. She saw the long spine of it, climbing up and up and up through the rock of the labyrinth. Right at its apex, there was a green blip.

Brackenshaw's eyes went wide. "Vannigan, you can't be serious."

"Sorry, Kaydie, but it's our best option." Kelso turned the slate off and leaned back, looking her dead in the eye. "You, Lieutenant Brackenshaw, are going to be the first human being to climb the Scraegar Labyrinth."