Bridge ADS Fallen Spear 120 clicks South of Kar Alabrek Tarthos He watched the security feed with a keen eye, the concealed turbolift first rising from the snow, then disappearing with Muz and the rest of his... cadre?  Retinue? Crew?  He reached for the word that he had heard the cultists use so many times before, but ultimately it didn't matter.  Darius tapped the side of his chin with his thumb before crossing his arms and turning toward the viewscreen.  They had a job to do, after all.   He motioned to the Nihilgenia working the comm station, waiting for a nod that signified the opening of the intercom system.  "Alright, ladies and gentlemen,"  He paused for a moment.  "The Lion has been deployed.  Which means it is showtime." The ship's engines flared as the bay closed, turning as it rose, the cloaks whining as they wiped the Spear from sight.  Darius Blackwind smiled, the targeting array flashing on the viewscreen before his eyes, showing the prefabricated Collective emplacements that they had scouted. But first... Northern Reach Mining Line 5 clicks North of Kar Alabrek Tarthos They poured from nowhere, it seemed.  The bay of the cloaked ship was a sliver of warmth and heat in the windswept snow, the black armor of the combined Nihilgenia and Sadow Armed forces standing out starkly from the white of the steppe.  Helmets nodded and hand signals flashed between the fireteams, keeping comm noise to a minimum as the bay sealed back up like some sort of portal, vanishing from view as the ship left them.  One of the Clan's engineers moved quickly to the tram line, flanked by soldiers, giving him at least a little break from the elements as he cracked open the case for the cart.   Wiring harness exposed, the engineer twisted a few specific lines out of the module, clipping them together into a probe that fed into his datapad, letting the slicing program work its magic.  Five clicks might not have been the longest march they had done, but they were hardly kitted out for camouflage in the Tarthos winter, let alone for comfort.  The tram line being under their control would make things so very much easier, and give them an advantage thatthe Collective likely didn't consider.  It was just a mining tram, used for the last decade to ferry ore from the shafts north of the city to the smelters to the west and then into the city itself, but it would serve their plan well. "Triple C" Comm Center Floor 117 Coil The klaxons would not shut up. Cari turned her head toward yet another holographic readout, the reports from space making the palms of her hands itch. The action was out there, too far away from the Alabrek Defense batteries to have any effect. It made sense to her. They knew about the capabilities, so they wouldn't get into range of those anti-air weapons. She idly wondered why they weren't designated anti-space guns for a moment, idly pacing in front of one of the large windows. The top floors of the Coil were more window than much else, affording her an unfettered view of the newly rebuilt city. It was an obvious place to put their command center. The communications array atop the tallest building were rerouted directly into the former suite, and it was nestled up above a consumerist spire, floors of casinos, shopping, and hotels below their feet. The clan had done a lot right before the Collective came, she had to give them that. She had been here before, of course, before the Collective, in the dark times. Cari rubbed the bridge of her nose, her mind going back to when she was a member of D:SOG. Expendable, pawns, they had been treated like chattel, their lives thrown away for the slightest of advantage of the brotherhood's force sensitives. It had been over a year, and they still hadn't found the Cathedral. Not the proper cathedral, anyway. The old temple, with the house's artifacts and books, all their vaunted and holy knowledge. It was here, she knew it. She didn't fall for the easy ruse, the museum that stood near the center of the city, the modern architecture embellished with old runes that she knew from in the old days. It was a trap, of course. one that she had lost a few good men to, the security grids and protocols, droids left behind when the clan was forced away, tail between their legs. Once they had picked through their defenses, they found nothing more. The bitterness of it still roiled her tongue, the feeling betrayed by her own stupidity, that she would have fallen for such an obvious misdirection. She had vowed to find their beloved cathedral, so she could personally raze it. Cari looked down, realizing that her fist had been clenching, white knuckles and indentations in the palm of her hand where fingernails dug. She stared at it for a moment, watching the depressions fill back up slowly, trying to center herself amidst the bustle of the Comm center. She didn't even see the plume of smoke as it started to rise in the distance. "General?" "Hrm?", she turned from the window, eyes clearing as she looked at the officer. He gestured past her, pointing at the smoke rising from the edge of the city as another started to rise off to their right. He handed her the datapad in his hands unceremoniously as her mouth fell open. "Multiple reports coming in, General." She calculated quickly. They hadn't found anything shuttling them down to the surface. Nothing had gotten past their anti-air batteries, nothing even tried. It would have had to been a small shuttle, a handful of foxtrot uniforms from the house. Small teams of murderous backbiters. She felt her lip curl up. "Sith." "Ma'am?" "Patch me into the garrison." The sound of concussive force shook them to their cores, the wail of rending metal reaching their ears. Cari regained her footing, stepping forward, face pressed against the glass, eyes peering down, around the corner of the building. Another missile screamed down to the prefabricated building, the old imperial era garrison exploding like it was made of paper. Eyes widened, as she brought her eyes up, tracing the route of the missile up and finding nothing. "What did we miss?" She asked the dead, eyes darting back around the city, more plumes of smoke rising from where she knew the little substations were. "How did they..." she trailed off, before shaking her head. "Circle the wagons, open a channel to Collective command." "Yes, ma'am." "Tell them Marka Ragnos has returned."