Lieutenant General Maxim smiled a wry smile. There was a cool wind from the east, an entire jet stream manipulated by the erratic orbit of Lianna’s innermost moon. That there was a sun shining through a dissipating cloak of low grey clouds was not the only reason for cheer on the face a corps commander.
Maxim, macrobinoculars clutched between scared hands, looked skyward when prompted by an increasing hellish whine. Overhead passed a squadron of Scimitar-class Assault Bombers, leader of the dozen tipping his craft from side to side in aerial salute to the area’s senior officer standing below. Maxim saw the zig-zag blue stripe on their hulls leading to their instant recognition: 4th Squadron of the 3rd Assault Wing. With incanted wings and extended body, the craft appeared as little more than insects called to a hive as they drove on towards the city of Idormius.
The city did not compare unfavorably with such a reference: almost a hundred fifty-level skyscrapers reaching towards the stars were surrounded by a patch-work of homes and businesses. Unseen was the industrial center, hidden by the towers, wedged between the city’s center and the third-largest water mass on Lianna.
Lieutenant General Maxim touched the brim of his visor-cap with his right hand as the divisional standard of the 34th Panzer passed. Before the hill moved two columns of repulsor tanks astride another of the large All Terrain Assault Transports that had ensured so many victories for the Empire. Small speeder bikes skitted by single and in pairs, a spurt of hovertrucks carrying infantry now and again breaking the sea of armored vehicles. The din would have been deafening as the soldiers marched were it not for the General’s twenty years’ service. In that time, he had become somewhat deaf to the overbearing ruckus his troops caused en route to war.
A thought struck Maxim as he turned his head to Idormius. Raising his macrobinoculars he looked on far to the right of his hill-perch, far enough that his naked eyes could make out nothing on the horizon. Where fields blew in the breeze lay several thousand corpses, burned and dismembered. Three regiments of Divine infantry, the only regulars encountered on the whole planet, had given their lives so the city’s Great Cathedral could be burned lest it fall into Imperial hands. Track-mounted howitzers and an array of field guns had leveled their resistance in mere minutes. Though the storm of shell and light slaughtered their numbers, the Children of the Divine never wavered. They marched ever onward with weapons ready, crossing the plane in a wide open formation to lessen the number killed per shell – but killed they were.
Swiveling the visual-enhacenment device once more towards the captured city, Maxim watched as blue-uniformed Security troops made their way from house to house, their Urbikkian Fortresses and Juggernaughts slowly traversing boulevard and alley alike for fear of ambush. The Security troops who were to police the planet to free soldiers for combat had learnt a hard lesson from the three day’s conquest of Lianna: the Children of the Divine would not surrender, soldier and civilian alike.
Maxim, macrobinoculars clutched between scared hands, looked skyward when prompted by an increasing hellish whine. Overhead passed a squadron of Scimitar-class Assault Bombers, leader of the dozen tipping his craft from side to side in aerial salute to the area’s senior officer standing below. Maxim saw the zig-zag blue stripe on their hulls leading to their instant recognition: 4th Squadron of the 3rd Assault Wing. With incanted wings and extended body, the craft appeared as little more than insects called to a hive as they drove on towards the city of Idormius.
The city did not compare unfavorably with such a reference: almost a hundred fifty-level skyscrapers reaching towards the stars were surrounded by a patch-work of homes and businesses. Unseen was the industrial center, hidden by the towers, wedged between the city’s center and the third-largest water mass on Lianna.
Lieutenant General Maxim touched the brim of his visor-cap with his right hand as the divisional standard of the 34th Panzer passed. Before the hill moved two columns of repulsor tanks astride another of the large All Terrain Assault Transports that had ensured so many victories for the Empire. Small speeder bikes skitted by single and in pairs, a spurt of hovertrucks carrying infantry now and again breaking the sea of armored vehicles. The din would have been deafening as the soldiers marched were it not for the General’s twenty years’ service. In that time, he had become somewhat deaf to the overbearing ruckus his troops caused en route to war.
A thought struck Maxim as he turned his head to Idormius. Raising his macrobinoculars he looked on far to the right of his hill-perch, far enough that his naked eyes could make out nothing on the horizon. Where fields blew in the breeze lay several thousand corpses, burned and dismembered. Three regiments of Divine infantry, the only regulars encountered on the whole planet, had given their lives so the city’s Great Cathedral could be burned lest it fall into Imperial hands. Track-mounted howitzers and an array of field guns had leveled their resistance in mere minutes. Though the storm of shell and light slaughtered their numbers, the Children of the Divine never wavered. They marched ever onward with weapons ready, crossing the plane in a wide open formation to lessen the number killed per shell – but killed they were.
Swiveling the visual-enhacenment device once more towards the captured city, Maxim watched as blue-uniformed Security troops made their way from house to house, their Urbikkian Fortresses and Juggernaughts slowly traversing boulevard and alley alike for fear of ambush. The Security troops who were to police the planet to free soldiers for combat had learnt a hard lesson from the three day’s conquest of Lianna: the Children of the Divine would not surrender, soldier and civilian alike.