“What do you mean there will be no counter attack?” exclaimed Kerseas, his fists clenched to his sides, his mind barely keeping his anger intact.

Mythonis looked at him from across the desk of the war room. “Young sword remember who you address, do not let your rage blind your wisdom. The council grieves the loss of your blade and of the base upon Verseux II but it is too powerful a fort and too strongly guarded to be retaken.”

Kerseas took in a calming breath, replacing his rage with reason as best he could. “We can retake the fortress sir. I know its defenses perfectly. The Blood Eagle Talon lost numerous men taking the fortress. The bolt under your command greatly outnumbers them now.”

“I know we can retake the planet, but it is a very secure fortress, you know this. The loses would be great. We have no need of the base in any strategic manner and it appears the Eagle wants it so fiercely if we wiped out this talon they would send an entire pennant next time. Council has judged the planet's importance does not nearly justify what it would take to reclaim it. We leave orbit at thirteen hundred hours tomorrow.”

“Commander. We can not allow them to do this to us. If we let them take this planet without resistance what is to stop them from doing this again. Can you not file a request with the council?” pleaded Kerseas through clenched teeth.

The Bolt Commander looked long at the young warrior, he looked at the rage in his eyes, he understood. He had seen the look before. The look of someone who had lost everything at the hands of another. A look of a man drunk with rage. “Remember young Diamond Sword, the one who loses his calm to rage is no better than the Eagle. I acknowledge your lose but there is nothing you can do. Your friend gave his life so you could live, not so you would return to death’s maw.” Kerseas said nothing; he stood ridged as a stone, giving a stiff salute before leaving.

The base upon Verseux II was shrouded in the darkness of night. The fierce sun had set and the many moons had risen to cast their reflected glow upon the green hills. High above the base in the cold vacuum of space drifted the many hulking forms of the fleet that was the 4th bolt. Bolt Commander sat upon the commander’s chair of the bridge upon the lead ship.

“Sir, we have an unauthorized shuttle leaving are docking bay.” Came the voice of a private from a nearby station. “One pilot, no passengers. It’s headed for the planet at max speed.”

“Stop him private. Over ride the shuttle control!” yelled the Bolt Commander urgently rising from his seat.

A moment passed as the private worked fiercely upon his computer console. “No good sir. He has set up a protection program in the ship's computer. He already entered orbit drop,” said the private bowing his head.

Mythonis looked blankly at the monitor for a moment before sinking back into his chair. “Then he is truly lost to us.”

Kerseas stood at the drop bay of the small shuttle in his armor. No longer did he wear the proud steel gray of a Diamond Sword Hoplite but rather a Peltast stained completely black. A dark visor shielded the blue glow of his eyes. He was a shadow of steel. The shuttle slowly moved under the steady hand of the autopilot. He looked at the number of his HUD.

He knew everything there was to know about this base. Every turn and dead end of its hall ways. Every capability and limit of its sensors. Every crack of every wall. His knowledge would be his weapon. He gave a grim chuckle. He was more of a Diamond Sword then he thought. What was the saying? “The sharpest sword cannot compare to the sharpest mind.”

Slowly the shuttle plummeted. Slowly he counted the distance to the base on his HUD as it counted down. He pressed a button on a nearby computer. The hanger door of the shuttle opened. The howling winds filled the shuttle cabin threatening to whisk everything out in its fury. Kerseas’ Peltast armor kept his weighted to the floor of the shuttle.

Four more kilometers he thought to himself. Four more until the sensors pick me up and the turrets come on line. He stood in the spinning hurricane that filled the shuttle, still as a statue looking at his HUD. The number he awaited appeared. He leapt out into the encompassing night and fell like a rock. He looked up just in time to see five missiles crash into his shuttle, blasting it out of existence with a flash and a clap of thunder.

He plummeted hundreds of feet to the ground below, not daring to turn on his jets lest the turrets pick up on their energy signature. He dropped faster and faster, accelerating as he dropped, the wind tearing at his armor in a futile effort. He looked at the number on his HUD as it dropped at a frightening pace. The number he awaited past, he was below the range of the turrets’ sensors. He turned on his jets to full power; the sudden force almost as bad as if he had hit the ground directly.

He lowered gently to the ground just below the outer wall of the floating fortress. He ran and crouched in the depths of the dark valley. It was still thick with corpses from the battle. He took satisfaction in the great number of Blood Eagles. He ignored the scene of horror and returned to his task. He pulled his gaze away from the corpses and back up to the fortress. He jumped into the air and turned on his jets. He was sent streaking up through the night sky like a bat. He came to rest upon an outer ledge at the bottom of the fortress wall. He crouched against the wall, his armor making him a shadow of the night. He looked up. A warm light glowed through a window up in the wall. He looked away and calculated where he was looking down at his compass. He looked at his satellite map. It was completely jammed. He walked slowly along the side of the wall, around the circumference of the base, pressing himself against the wall and into the shadows. He reached his destination.

He looked up to see the blue glow of a small force field filling a hole in the wall. The breach he had helped seal. He looked at his command map again. It may be jammed but he can still access any Diamond Sword equipment in the area. He smiled in his dark armor. Only one controllable object. The Blood Eagles hadn’t bothered to replace the force field with one of their own; he had control of it. With a press of a button in his armors wrist control and the blue glow vanished. He turned on his jets and leapt through the opening, quickly reactivating it behind him, sealing it once again.

He was inside the base. He ran quickly through its familiar halls, avoiding cameras and ceiling turrets. He knew every turn, every corner, where the turrets and cameras would be, where he could hide from patrols, and he knew where to find what he was looking for. Kerseas slowly stalked through the halls, in and out of darkened corners and closets and quarters avoiding guard patrols. The sensor jammer on his back hummed silently, the only sound to be heard. Even the heavy footsteps of his armored boots seemed to pass silently to through the halls. Like a thief in the night he slowly made his way to the depths of his former home inching closer and closer to his goal. The commander's quarters. Revenge.

Kerseas arrived at his goal the entrance to the commander’s quarters. Locked. That would not prove a problem. Kerseas slowly removed a panel from the wall. An old trick from Cerius. He stuck his arm into the opening searching. He found what he sought. With a twist of his wrist he tore a wire from its circuitry. The click of the electronic lock sounded silently. Kerseas replaced the panel and opened the door. He slid into the room silently letting the door slide to a close behind him.

He quickly darted into a shadowed corner. Thankfully the quarters were of obscene size and the commander had not been in the entrance room to see Kerseas enter. Many jokes had been fueled amongst the soldiers of the Relentless Blade as to the size of their commander’s quarters. Their commander was a modest man and disliked holding such vanity but Blood Eagles who always seemed to have vain commanders had originally constructed the base. He grinned to himself at the thought of his ancestors originally stealing this base from the Blood Eagles centuries ago. I guess what goes around comes around.

Slowly Kerseas pulled a pair of mini-swords from their sheaths. Quick and silent he thought to himself as he stayed crouched in the shadows of the corner under the cover of a rather large sculpture. A voice lifted from the depths of inner chamber of the quarters. A female voice harsh and filled with malice, but whose gentle innocence froze Kerseas in his place. “The Diamond Sword will come for you bastards and when they do they will see you are punished pig.”

A jovial laugh of a fierce voice followed the statement. “Let them come. Their words make poor weapons. If your tribe come to seek vengeance they will find the same fate as your comrades. You speak too much for your own good for a serving wench.” A knock sounded at the door of the quarters. Footsteps were heard from the inner chamber accompanied by a curse to the interruption. Kerseas crouched deeper into the shadows. A large burly man came stomping into the room. He had the build of a warrior, a black beard hung from his chin but his head was for the most part baled. His eyes were a steel gray and he wore crimson robes of a fine material unbecoming of a warrior. He awnsered the door.

A rather placid voice came from the hallway. “Commander Ronis, our turrets shot down an approaching Diamond Sword shuttle a few minutes ago. We didn’t see anyone escape and assume whoever was aboard died in the explosion. Should we send out a patrol to search for survivors?”

“No. Who cares if they survived? How much harm can the passengers of a single shuttle cause this base? And Malnarus, don’t disturb me again unless it is important.” The door closed before any good bye could be given. Ronis turned around. “See what happens to you foolish sandrakers. You throw yourself at us in futile efforts. And you claim to be strategists. What kind of strategy is that? Suicide?” his harsh laugh filled the room once again. Kerseas’ gaze shifted from the entrance to the inner chamber entrance to see whom Ronis addressed.

There, standing in a scantly clad prisoner uniform, its top torn in numerous places stood Kathlyn. Kerseas’ heart skipped a beat and he felt for the first time in days joy. Her face was bruised, and she had a cut over her eye. Her long silken brown hair was a mess and she leaned against the wall for support. Her face seemed unusually thin; she probably hadn’t been fed well in the past week if she had been fed at all. “When they come they will come in numbers like a fury from the heavens. Your turrets and soldiers will be useless against the wisdom of the Sword’s edge,” her voice was choked and raspy as Kerseas’ had been days ago in the cave.

Ronis crossed the outer chamber in tree large paces. Grabbing her arm with a large powerful hand, Ronis threw her to the ground. Her sleeve was torn from her shirt revealing numerous cuts that ran along her slight arm. She fell hard on her back, a whimper escaping her lips. She struggled to sit back up but a large foot fell upon her stomach pinning her down. “I told you to shut your mouth,” said Ronis, his voice was as cold as ice. “You are the slowest learner I have ever seen.”

Ronis bent down and picked up Kathlyn by her throat lifting her off her feet with his powerful arm, turning his back to Kerseas as he did. Kerseas looked upon the scene, it was the mirror image of Cerius being held by the Myrmidon. A fire lit within Kerseas. He could stay hidden no more. Like the very reaper of souls he leapt from the shadows. A black form from head to toe, the only light that gleamed from him was that of the blades of his two daggers. With the silence of the wind he crossed the room with one bound and fell upon the Blood Eagles back. A dagger dug into the back of the large man. A scream began to bubble up from the victim’s throat but was quickly cut off as the second blade was drawn across his neck.

Ronis crumbled to the ground with a gurgle of blood. Crimson wet the red carpets of the room dark, a spray of blood splattering against the assassin’s dark armor. Another spray of blood fell across Kathlyn’s face. The dark Peltast sheathed his blades with a final metallic ring. Kathlyn tried to scream but her throat was too choked and no sound came from her open mouth. The assassin quickly removed his helmet. Kathlyn’s terror struck eyes seemed to melt to tears of joy. A shock of red hair was revealed as those familiar dark blue eyes met hers.

“Kerseas,” she managed as she rose to give him a strong embrace. Her slight body could barely rap her arms around the thick form of the armored Peltast and when he returned the hug it seemed as if he would crush her. They stood there hugging for a moment that seemed like the longest moment of joy either one had ever felt. Although he knew it was impossible Kerseas could have sworn he could feel the warmth of her body through the cold steel of his armor.

“I thought you died in that mortar blast.” She said through tears as she clung to him.

“I was saved by Cerius. He escaped the base when the retreat was called and found me. He saved me. We called a dropship and I was rescued.”

“Is Cerius here too,” asked Kathlyn finally letting go of him. She looked up into his eyes; hers were filled with joy.

“He… he died fending off a patrol. He saved me,” said Kerseas through the strongest tone he could manage. His voice shook in part from sorrow but for the most part with rage. “We must go. I haven’t been detected yet. If we can get to the hanger bay and get a fast shuttle I know how we can escape the sensors and get off the planet.”

Kerseas took her arm and turned to leave but she stood planted in her place. “We can’t leave yet. There are more captives. Many more.”

Kerseas cast her an odd look. “Many more. I thought Blood Eagles didn’t except surrender.”

“Usually they don’t but Ronis is… Ronis was sadistic. He took more joy in torture than slaughter. He ordered his men to take as many prisoners as possible. There are at least twenty five more Relentless Blade members in the brig.”

Kerseas stood there thinking for a moment. A plan formulated in his mind. “Take this,” said Kerseas handing Kathlyn his chaingun.

She quickly checked the ammo and held it in an experienced grip. “What is your plan.”

“It’s a long shot but if we can get to the master control room and retake it, we can shut down all their defenses and call support in from above. The entire 4th bolt is in orbit, but they are going to be leaving in a day.”

“Do you really think we can retake the control room. Just a Peltast and a soldier with a chaingun,” her voice was hopeful but also held doubt.

“I know we can take it. Most of their defenses are on patrol in the halls and trough out the hills. The control room is probably hardly secured. It’s just escaping afterwards that worries me. If we take it they’ll have us trapped inside.”

A smile crossed Kathlyn’s beautiful face. “Leave the escape up to me.” Kerseas reflected on how much he loved that smile. He looked into her hazel eyes. He had made good on his promise. He had seen to it that the Blood Eagles did not mar her smile or her eyes.

A few minutes later the two Diamond Sword warriors, one a shadow in his black armor, the other vulnerable in her prisoner’s garb, made their way slowly through the hallowed halls to the command room, the nexus of the base. Skillfully Kerseas guided them between patrols and cameras as he had on the way there. His help was not needed. Kathlyn knew the base as well as he and was as capable of stealth. He admired her for that.

They arrived at the command room. Each took to a side of the door. Slowly Kerseas activated the automatic door. It slid open. The sound of a few people conversing as well as the humming and clicking of the bases networks. Kerseas removed some small objects from a compartment of his armor and rolled them into the room. The explosion of the grenades shattered the calm of the room. Explosions of claptraps and the screaming of men echoed the explosion.

The two renegades stormed into the room. A single myrmidon stood in the ruins of the room. He raised his Plasma Cannon at the intruders but fell under the combined fire of a Stormhammer and chaingun before he could fire. Kerseas surveyed the room as Kathlyn closed and locked the door behind them. Two Blood Eagle Peltasts had died in the grenade blast and numerous claptrap turrets lay in ruins. Kerseas rushed to a communicator and programmed a signal directed to the orbiting fleet. He spoke into the communicator. “Priority Distress call from private Kerseas of the Relentless Blade to the 4th bolt of the Unyielding Facet. The base of Verseux II is defenseless. We have destroyed their systems. They are vulnerable for attack. There are at least two dozen survivors of the Relentless Blade in the bases prison.”

He looked up from his transmission. Kathlyn had finished deactivating the base defenses. “Ready?” he asked.

“Ready.” The two Diamond Swords took a few steps back and opened fire upon the controls. A second later the controls were destroyed. Kathlyn ran to a far wall and removed a vent cover. Kerseas sprinkled the room with mines just as a heavy thump slammed into the locked door. A huge dent formed in the door. A second thump creating a second dent. The two of them ducked into the vents, fleeing from the room as fast as they could.

The Blood Eagle Myrmidon crashed into the room as the door gave way to his shoulder. He had charged with too much force and was thrown through the doorway into the room. All the mines went off at once.

About ten minutes later the night sky was filled with the dark form of dropships. The bombardment did not last long and in less than an hour every last Blood Eagle had been killed or captured. The surviving prisoners of the Relentless Blade had survived a week of brutal torture but in the end had been saved. No one noticed a small shuttle escape from the base just before the attack. Its destination was unknown to even its two passengers. The only thing that was clear was they had had enough of Verseux II.

The second moon of the planet Vixenous was a small waypoint for wary travelers to rest, refuel and recuperate. Outside a small pub by the rest station could be found a Diamond Sword shuttle. Inside the pub two very wary soldiers sat at a small table in the corner.

“Are you sure you won’t return to the Diamond Sword with me?” asked Kathlyn. She had spent the past hour trying to change Kerseas’ mind on the subject but he was proving as stubborn as ever.

“I’m not made to be a Diamond Sword anymore. I’m too quick to react and there are too many painful memories. I don’t want to return to a tribe that wouldn’t let me try to save you. Anyway after I did what I did I’ll be court marshaled at least,” answered Kerseas for the tenth time.

“But you saved all those soldiers and we retook the base. How can they punish you after that?” reasoned Kathlyn.

“Logic. Diamond Sword logic. The ends don’t justify the means. I may have saved lives but I ignored orders from the Council itself. They would probably ban me from the military for that alone. Why don’t you come with me?”

“You know I can’t. My whole family is Diamond Sword. I can’t abandon them or the tribe because of you.”

“I understand.”

“Where will you go? What will you do?”

“I don’t know.”

They stood from their table. “I must go. I have to return to the Sword.” They embraced again. Kathlyn shed a tear.

“What’s with the tear?” asked Kerseas pulling her away so he could look into her eyes. “Its not like you won’t see me again. I’ll be sneaking into your bases to visit you on weekly basis if that’s what it takes to be with you.”

A smile crossed Kathlyn’s face. Kerseas loved that smile. She went on the tip of her toes to be face level with him. She kissed him deeply. They stood there a moment, embracing. Most eyes in the pub traced to the two scared warriors. They were quite a spectacle. One practically naked in her torn prisoner clothes another draped in black Peltast armor.

Kathlyn pulled away from him. She walked backwards to the door, not wanting to take her eyes from him. “Come to visit me as soon as you can,” she called.

“Sooner then you’d like,” returned Kerseas with a grin.

And then she was gone. Kerseas stood there for a moment looking at the door, wondering what he would do next. He finally sat back down. He sat in silence by himself for a moment looking at his helmet on the table in front of him. It was still stained black, as was the rest of his armor.

He looked up to see a stranger had joined him at his table. He seemed a battle scared warrior himself, older than Kerseas. He to wore Peltast armor and he put his helmet down to rest next to his. Kerseas looked the man up and down. His armor was adorned with an odd symbol unfamiliar to him. “Mind if I buy you a drink.”

“Not at all stranger, make it a stiff one,” said Kerseas in a friendly tone not devoid of suspicion. “Who do I owe this drink to.”

“You don’t owe me anything friend. I couldn’t help over hear your story, as did everyone else in this pit. Maybe I can prove of some assistance. Give you a direction to head.”

A tankard of ale was placed in front of Kerseas and he took a long chug of it. “That’s quite an odd symbol on your armor sir, what may I ask is it’s origins.”

“It is the symbol of my clan, not long ago wiped out. I am the last of my tribe and I’m looking to carry on its name.”

“And what name would that be?”

“The Dragon Talon Tribe. Oh and the names Spectre so stop calling me stranger. I’m starting a mercenary group under the name of the Dragon Talon. It’s sort of a scattered organization of this systems warriors. You sound battle hardened maybe you would like to join.”

“Sounds interesting.”

“What’s your handle soldier?”

“Handle?”

“You know, your battle name.”

Kerseas ran a hand through his red hair. A bit of the hair fell over one of his eyes. A thought came to mind. A memory of a nickname the Relentless Blade soldiers had given him. He remembered battles gone by at Cerius’ side battling the enemy at Verseux II, Cerius calling him the name over the communicator. Though the past was now a dark one it remained a fond memory. “Call me FireFro. So tell me about this clan of yours.”