Corsythe, Base Fortuna

  Major Mehmet Arkhan folded his arms contemplatively as he stared out the high window of the central tower of Base Fortuna. Outside, a massive blizzard raged against the human installation, smothering the protective glass dome in a blanket of white.

  Arkhan had been born on a tropical planet further within the Imperial heartland, completely the opposite of his current post. Thus, most observers would be surprised to learn that Arkhan loved his current assignment. Dealing with incessant rain and snow had certainly been a culture shock in the first year or so, but he’d come to enjoy the cozy sensation of staring out at bad weather while you yourself were protected. Furthermore, once someone obtained an Adaptability and Constitution stat like his, there wasn’t much that could really affect them temperature-wise. In weather like this, going for a swim in the freezing waters below would be a death sentence for most. However, Arkhan could swim indefinitely in conditions like these and only experience a little tingle from the cold. It was a guilty pleasure of his to take a minor (legal) Psionic suppressant and go for an extended dip when the weather got really bad. The suppressant made things quite invigorating.

  There were other things he liked about his post. On occasion, perhaps once a year, the weather would clear up and expose a beautiful azure sky. Such rarities usually prompted a day off for everyone on the base, sparking more than a few ‘unauthorized’ parties with some ‘illegal’ drinking that Arkhan pretended not to notice. Those days were fun, even for him.

  He’d even come to enjoy the process of training the soldiers. Teaching them to fight and survive was quite rewarding, especially when he well knew the dangers that they would soon face. On a certain level, Arkhan felt guilty. Even with some of the easier jobs, the Frontier was a meat grinder for enlisted men with limited resources. In many ways, the Pioneer system was impersonal and brutal, demanding results above all else and caring little about who was lost to achieve those results. Arkhan consoled himself by remembering that, if he didn’t do this job, someone else would. Better him than a clan brat.

  Arkhan was one of many Pioneer commanders who’d clawed their way to power despite being enlisted men. Most of the fellows who shared that background empathized heavily with their subordinates and worked to improve their chances of survival, Arkhan included, but there was only so much they could do. Most of the help he could provide on a daily basis involved training the rookies to the best of his abilities, even though they often hated him for it in the moment. Hopefully, they’d live to appreciate the harshness of the beatdowns he unleashed upon them and realize that those beatdowns had helped save their lives. Whether they realized it or not, Arkhan would be satisfied if they lived.

  An outcome that, unfortunately, was looking bleaker by the minute.

  Today, there would be no swimming in the ocean. No, as Arkhan stared out at the blizzard, all he could think of was the impending attack. The Xenos threat known as the Kharnidd had come to Corsythe, and they had already begun to run wild through the world’s facilities. The Pioneers had been doing their best to fight back, yet some of the bases had already fallen. Most of the men were still rookies, barely better than unenhanced soldiers. Arkhan and some of the other powerful Pioneers on the base had scraped together enough resources to improve that, but it probably wouldn’t be enough. Even if they’d grown stronger, these men were much less capable than a standard, battle-hardened Pioneer.

  They’d called for help, of course, and received little more than apologies. The whole planet had only gotten a small reinforcement cadre of 5,000 regular army soldiers, many of whom were weaker than the trainees themselves. It was better than literally nothing, but all the reports Arkhan had received indicated that the enemy had numerous G and D class fighters in their ranks. Humanity had a few of those on planet as well, but they were sorely outnumbered. A few army men were not going to make up the difference.

  Arkan contemplated all of this as he waited for the men to be assembled below. This was easily the greatest crisis he’d ever faced, and he was woefully unprepared to face it. Eventually, he finally received a call from Captain Lichtstein, “They’re ready for you, sir.”

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  Arkhan took a deep breath, turned around, and descended the tower’s stairs. The soldiers had been assembled on the base’s parade grounds, waiting for a final speech from their commanding officer before they took up their defensive positions. Several Kharnidd teams were currently making their way toward Base Fortuna, but the Pioneers had a bit of time before the onset of battle. The major had decided to take that time to try to boost their morale.

  He stepped onto a podium overlooking the countless rows of men. Some of them had fled here from smaller bases near Fortuna, seeking the safety of numbers. Maybe 500 of them were Army reinforcements that had come to Fortuna specifically. The rest were his boys, the soldiers Arkhan had been beating into shape for the last couple of months. There were too many of them in total to fit completely on the grounds, so some hung around in the windows, thresholds, and balconies of the adjoining buildings. They all watched their commander with a frenetic energy, their nerves showing in bloodshot eyes or twitching fingers. Most of them weren’t ready for this fight, physically or emotionally, and it was up to the major to convince them that they could prevail anyway. He stood at his podium for a few seconds, still as a statue and flanked on either side by his captains, before finally opening his mouth and beginning to speak:

  “Pioneers! Soldiers of the Empire! Today we stand on the precipice of GREATNESS!”

  His voice boomed out across the grounds with the force of a typhoon, pressing down on every fighter there with palpable severity as he continued, “The Xenos threat is at our doorstep, threatening to extinguish our grand Empire. The light of civilization itself! And yet, here we stand, the vanguard of humanity. The frontline that has been prepared to ensure that they will GO NO FURTHER!”

  Arkhan put every ounce of emphasis he could into the crucial pieces of his speech, using every little bit of his meager talent as a rhetorician to attempt to make them convincing. He gave the prepared speech with gusto, going on for several minutes about the glories of dying in battle and serving the Emperor, the snow outside changing to sleet as the time passed and the weather slightly warmed. Arkhan carefully watched the men’s reactions the entire time, hoping to see courage kindle within their eyes. To a certain extent, he was not disappointed. Some of the soldiers swelled with pride, their zealotry on full display, while others took on a grim, fatalistic courage. However, many remained unmoved, putting on a fa?ade of stoicism that masked a turmoil of unabated fear.

  Arkhan didn’t blame them. Many of the men had little love for the Emperor and even less reason to die for him. Arkhan didn’t feel much different when all was said and done. He’d taken this job because it was the only serious chance at growing his stature in life that he’d ever really been given, not because he deeply wanted to kill and bleed for the Empire. He loved his home world and his family, but that was mostly it. But these speeches were always carefully monitored. He needed to say the politically approved lines and follow the relevant script, because if he didn’t…

  “I’ll be punished?”

  A thought blossomed in Arkhan’s mind as he continued his diatribe; the CO hit with a sudden epiphany. What did it matter if the higher-ups disapproved of his speech? Would he lose his post? His rank? So what? He was about to die anyway, wasn’t he? All the words in the galaxy wouldn’t change that.

  So why not say what he wanted?

  “So that’s-“, Arkhan stopped abruptly mid-sentence, expression changing as he allowed a sudden pause to settle over the attentive audience. Many of them registered confusion at the quick onset of silence, their perplexity only growing as Arkhan continued in a softer, graver voice, “My friends, look around you. What do you see?”

  As the men looked at each other, the storm outside turned from sleet to rain, thoroughly washing off the last of the snow from the base’s protective dome. As they looked, Arkhan spoke again, “These men are your brothers. Maybe you only met today, but they are. If you can’t fight for the Emperor, then fight for them.”

  That comment provoked several gasps of surprise, but Arnold barreled forward, increasing in tone as he pointed all around him, “Look further, and tell me what you see! We are in a small shelter—a tiny torch, within a great storm. Elsewhere, across the planet, and across the galaxy, other torches flicker in resistance. Some have already gone out.”

  He allowed another moment of silence to let that sink in, before clenching a fist and deepening his frown, “Yet, aren’t we used to this? Isn’t this our lives? Struggling to keep our hearths from going out. Our families from poverty. Our houses from ruin. Or maybe we fight for a better life. Either way, the struggle’s the same.”

  His voice was growing louder again, the Pioneers hanging on his every word, “Fight for our torch! Our family around us and beyond. If even one flame can survive, it will become a beacon to those thrust into darkness.”

  Arkhan watched as hope grew in the minds of all his listeners. Everyone stood a little straighter, shook a little less, and none of them were afraid to finally look him in the eye. Arkhan puffed out his chest further, eyes shining with pride, “Do not fight to die, brothers. Fight to live. All that we love depends on it.”

  He gave a salute, which was returned instantly. The noise of thousands of bodies shuffling as one was louder than the muffled thunder outside, and Arkham grinned. Then he roared:

  “BATTLE STATIONS!”