The Ammatar guard stood with his back slumped lazily against the wall, with his well-heeled slaver hound sat besides him. The guard contemplated the hound for a moment. While it was sat still and well behaved, he made no assumption that the hound was anything but a ravenous beast on the inside. Trained only to kill, its senses honed to a fine point, the hound was to be feared and respected. A dangerous animal, wrapped in a stern regime of discipline and training that was barely enough to restrain the creature within. At a glance, the beast may seem subdued. But further reading would show that every muscle in the hound's lean frame was tensed like a coiled spring, and its chest was heaving deeply as it took in heavy breaths to keeps its muscles fuelled. Its lips were curled back slightly giving a subtle view of its razor sharp teeth, highlighted by a thin film of its own saliva that seemed to glisten in a crimson red against its gums, as if the beast had just fed upon fresh meat.

Several more men patrolled the facility around him and his station, each with their own hound on a leash, and a laser rifle held at port arms. The base was situated at the bottom of a large cliff face, with a small pool of water at the bottom some distance away fed by a constant trickle of water from a stream on the top of the cliff, and surrounded by dense jungle that seemed to climb the sheer cliff face with an almost blatantly contemptible disregard for its size. The facility was owned by a small consortium of Ammatar loyalist corporation fronts to research the possibility of new brands of Vitoc, and implement them in a practical environment on test subjects gathered from the undeserving free worlds and boarder zones.

The slaver hound at his heel suddenly twitched its ears and raised its head, as a deep and droning growl resonated from deep within its long neck. The guard raised his weapon in response and began assessing the foot of the jungle beyond the fence in front of him, searching for intruders. He noticed the slaver was snarling and gnashing at the air beyond the cliff face. Moments later he heard what had caught the hounds attention. Several distant rumbles rolled over the sky, as if a thunder storm was approaching.
Great, he thought to himself, another monsoon. That's all I need to cheer my day up. The planet was covered mostly by a dense, moist jungle containing many swamps, marshes and inland lakes, making for the perfect humid atmosphere where major storms could brew that could last for days. Scanning the sky with a squint against the bright blue backdrop, he was hard pressed to find any clouds at all. The rumbles got louder and more distinctive, and gradually took on the form of a repeating thudding sound. Combined with that were the sounds of energy beams crackling. The hound went into a frenzy, as did many others around the base, some breaking free of their holder, running around crazed. Without warning, a deafening rumble filled the skies above, and shook the ground beneath them as a flaming ball hurtled overhead, followed closely by two more bright streaks.

The objects, he now recognised as small frigate-sized ships, soared across the sky past the ridgeline beyond. A flash of intense light filled the sky as bright as a second sun and blinded him for a moment, filled the air with a distant rumble. Seconds later, the low rumble was followed a massive blast sound that reverberated deep in his bones. A shockwave could be seen expanding through the sky as several sparse and wispy clouds were parted in a perfect orb around the blast, and the wave touched the ground below sending a sheet of dust and dirt swirling across the surface. The second ship seemed to soar beyond the blast, and the third followed, but quickly exploded again in a much smaller display of flaming chunks of metal that were hurled to the ground by the blast.

A klaxon sounded over the base though a speaker system, flooding the pavements and the assembly square with noise and troops dashing from the barracks buildings rushing to their alert posts. An announcement played over the speakers in Amarrian, stating a search operation was underway and requesting a fully armed Search and Extract team to report to the launch pad.

To the side of the control building, a concrete pad opened the ground up in several segments like a giant mouth of some huge plant set to devour anything above it, and allowing a platform to raise to the surface from underneath with a VTOL-like ship situated on it. With tilting thrusters, and a wide belly to hold survival equipment and troops with a ramp at the rear for deployment, the ship was a typical SAE vehicle for atmospheric flight. The vertical take off thrusters made it perfect for the environment here where the dense jungle made landings hard. As the ship rose from the ground, the SAE team began to file up by the landing ramp, ready to investigate the crash site. Meanwhile, the surviving ship had not been sighted, and its intents were unclear. If it was their expected guest he would have landed here by now. If not, then the explosion was their expected guest, and they had a problem on their hands.

A distant electronic blipping noise sounded somewhere in the back of her brain like echoing drops of water. They soon became clearer and the pod systems emergency revival systems kicked in, feeding mild stimulants into her system to speed up her revival from the blackout. In symphony to this revival, the pod hissed as small hatches top and bottom forced open and performed an emergency draining of the pod fluids, only leaving a small pool in the base of the pod. The interface wires automatically disconnected from the back of Shay'la's skull and arms with a snap and rapidly receded into their small compartments in the sides of the inner pod walls. Slowly, she came around, curled into a ball on the bottom of the pod. Her head throbbed a little from the impact, and slowly, her memory of what had happened began to trickle into her mind. She had flash visions of her Stiletto interceptor chasing the Amarr ship over the surface, firing at it with her wing man. The ship began to break apart and nosed up, losing speed. She turned too late and her ship was rocked by the explosion, and rolled out of control, forcing her to eject.

She pulled herself off the bottom of the pod and groped around the dark interior, searching for the main hatch release. The smell of the remaining pod fluid residue was pungent and thick, and already the pod was beginning to heat up making the smell worse by the minute. She found the release and pulled it. With a piercing screech of metal and gears, a halo of light formed against the pod wall above her. The release mechanism refused to move further, most likely damaged from the impact, but it was enough for Shay'la to attempt to kick the hatch open. The sudden flood of the suns light dazzled her eyes, still highly sensitive to the slightest light after spending a long time in the ships capsule. The thick and humid air rushed into the pod as the air pressure changed, saturating her with the moist and humid air from the outside in a near instant. She climbed out of the pod, still dizzy from the fumes and sudden introduction to the dense humidity in the air making breathing difficult, and hauled her upper body above the hatch and into the open. She squinted in the light around her, letting her eyes adjust before progressing further. She had not noticed at this point, but her ears were ringing loudly, numbing her sense of hearing. There were distant and echoing sounds all around her, like animals an insects howling and chirping. Slowly, as her sight adjusted, her hearing also returned and the sounds became clearer.

She pushed herself higher and tried to pull her feet from the pod before attempting to lower herself down to the ground. Her left hand slipped on the shiny surface before her legs cleared the hatch, and she slipped forwards onto her chest. Unable to stop herself, she slid forwards and down the pod head first, collapsing in a heap and the floor. She cursed under her breath as her headache returned in full force, and her vision began to spin with spots flashing around her. She forced herself to her feet and tried to regain some orientation. Her pod, it seems, had landed in a dense jungle area. Her pods crash had carved a gully in the ground, mounding earth around as it came to a halt. The tree line before it was broken and parted into a narrow v-shape. The sun was shining down through there in a shaft of brilliant light surrounded by the darkness of the jungle below the canopy.

Shay'la made her way to the other side of the pod, and entered a key code on a small hatch. The plate hissed open and she withdrew a compact survival pack, and a slender box. She threw the pack over her shoulder and opened the box, withdrawing a collapsed crossbow from its padded enclosure, a quill of five metal darts and a dark-matte finished combat knife. Shay'la unfolded the crossbow and attached a sighting scope to the mount. After setting the sights, she slid a bolt into the loading tray, set the wire and scanned for a test target.

She levelled the sights at a piece of purple fruit hanging from a high branch, estimated to be about a hundred or so metres away, and gently squeezed the trigger. The crossbow hissed as the bolt travelled along the launch plate and flew gracefully, and silently through the air towards its target. The bolt speared the fruit, snatching it from its branch, and carried it several more metres through the air before the bolt buried itself into the tree trunk behind. Shay'la lowered the crossbow and smiled contently, then slung the weapon on her back and pulled a small hand held console from her pack.

She set the console to scan for emergency beacons from Ramar's pod, and set off into the dense jungle ahead in search of Ramar's crash site. More than likely, Darius would be heading there too. And if she was lucky, she would get there before him.

Darius instigated the landing procedure with a thought to the computer through his pod. The Wolf opened lower vents and fired retro-thrusters to control its vertical descent as several slats opened along the skin of the assault frigate creating an air brake to bleed off the air speed. The air flowing over the vents caused an eerie howling sound in the air around his ship, giving the Wolf assault frigate a more literal meaning to its namesake. Slowly, the Wolf came to a halt over the clear patch of land in the trees and four hatches opened on the underside of the ship. Despite the newness of the ship itself, it was converted from a years old Rifter hull, and the landing gear had rarely been used in all that time. This became painfully clear from the groans and protests of the metal hatches, followed by a terrible screech of gears that had seen little in the way of maintenance since the ship was built. With a resounding clunk, the landing gear struts locked into place, one by one, and the ship settled gingerly onto the ground. The heavy plates of the landing gear depressed the soft dirt under them by several feet causing pools of water to well around the struts as the dirt holding it was compressed by the ships immense weight.

Darius initiated the pod release, and the fluid was drained into the tank under the pod. The interface wires released from the implants in the back of Darius' neck and arms and the pod split in two allowing Darius to stand up. The remaining gel on his clothing and skin was quickly evaporated by several blasts of a powered compound from vents above the pod. Seconds later, he was making his way to the hatch that led outside, stopping at a small locker near the exit hatch and entered the unlock code in the keypad. Darius reached into the locker as the door opened and pulled out an automatic rifle and several spare ammunition clips, each containing one hundred bullets. Finally, Darius picked up a tracking computer to detect the pods beacons, and headed for the hatchway to his ship. He needed to get to Ramar's pod before he could get away.

The calm serenity of the Jark gate in Odatrik was quickly broken by several streaks racing towards it. As they grew in size, so too did the ships of the Freelance Unincorporated fleet. An impressive array of Tempest and Typhoon battleships supported by heavy assault frigates, cruisers and interceptor class frigates. Warping several seconds behind those were the electronic warfare ships of Caldari design and the Cyclone class command ships used to relay tactical information to the rest of the fleet, and boost their capabilities remotely.

Zoolkhan, at the lead of the fleet in his Tempest battleship, checked his scanners to ensure the fleet was fully assembled. Pleased at the sight of the twenty strong fleet of ships, he opened a communication line and began transmission.
"OK fleet," he began, "here is the plan. A little different than what we were training for tomorrow, and I guess that's now on temporary hold. All we know from our tip off is that Darius has gone after an Ammatar with a rouge agent from the RSS, and that he might not be coming back alive. Our orders are that Darius is, unfortunately, on his own until he makes it back here."
There were some startled murmurs from the other pilots. This was not typical of Freelance Unincorporated to leave an endangered pilot hanging.
"I know, it sucks. But as soon as Darius shows his damned hide at the other side of this gate, we jump in and escort him home. And the ancestors help him when Maggot gets hold of him." Zoolkhan, realising what he had just said, cursed to himself for blurting that out to the others, as such things would be kept behind closed doors until after the fact. It was the first sign to Zoolkhan that he was a little tense over this issue, and his mind was clearly still in bed with those disappointed lady friends. He would have to watch what he says until he wakes fully.

"OK, in the mean time there is nothing that says we cannot scout, even if the orders are not to compromise the whole fleet while we wait for this Fedo show to get on the road. Drakus, get that Cheetah through the gate please and check all the linked systems three jumps in. We're not sure where exactly he is and where he will be coming from, so maintain a covert patrol between the gates and relay anything unusual back here."
"Roger Zool." Came the reply from Drakus as his covert operations ship slid towards the gate, and dissolved in the jump vortex. Shortly afterwards, Drakus reported back.
"Zool," came the communication, "No activity in the system I can see."
"Roger," replied Zoolkhan, "Continue deeper into Ammatar space and see what you can see in Sasta. Some minutes later, Drakus reported he was jumping through to Sasta.

Several moments of silence ensued as the rest of the fleet maintained radio discipline, fully aware that the operation was now underway. And that was followed by several more seconds, and something inside Zoolkhan stood on end, as began to worry that something was wrong.

On the command deck of the Ammatar Security battleship, The Constantine, the crew bustled about, managing communications among the fleet, relaying positioning details and running final diagnostics on their equipment consoles. Unlike the new breed of ships piloted by private corporations and empire school graduates, these were manned by a bridge crew not piloted almost entirely by a single pilot in a 'pod'. The Major General in charge of the detachment of ships surveyed the scene from his position standing at a small tabletop screen. The screen displayed the specific grid they were in by projecting a spherical holo-image in the air above. Celestial phenomena, the jump gate, clouds of dust, automated sentry guns and the stars beyond all populated the image floating in the air that also showed the positions of the fleet ships under his command. He turned to the communications officer, pointing his finger into the middle of the cluster of ships as if to emphasise his order visually and spoke.
"Major," he said in a frustrated and gravely tone, as if someone had filled his throat with dry beans, "The Light Sword cruiser is out of position again. Tell the good Captain to correct his orbit around the specified patrol co-ordinates again and run a diagnostic on his navigational array, and his navigator too while he is at it."
"Yes sir." Snapped the Major, in a typical god-fearing tone, before turning to his staff at the communication console and relaying the massage to them to transmit to the unfortunate Captain of The Light Sword.
"Major!" barked the Major General again, his tone still wreaking of the impatience it bore a moment ago.
"Sir?" came the Major's reply as he took one mighty, quick step across the command deck back to the display.
"That group is giving off the wrong Identification code, damn it!" he growled, fierce enough to cause the most hardened of slaver hounds to loosen its bowels, and again jabbing a chubby accusing finger into the holo-display. "Get them to confirm the codes, or by god I will skin the wing commander alive and mount his festering hide on the wall of my private mess!"
"Yes si…"
"SIR!" came the harmonious interruption from the signals crew chief. Every officer on the command deck turned to face the back of the ratings head. "Unidentif…. What…?" The rating fell silent, as if he had just witnessed something either profound or extremely irregular.
"Well, confound it man, spit it out!" demanded the Major General.
"Erm… sorry sir. I had a signal spike, unidentified, but it vanished the second I called it. Running a calibration test now. My apologies sir."
"Don't bother, it wasn't a calibration error Chief. I know a covert scout when I see it."

Drakus pulled further away from the gate, as fast as his Cheetah could move. And since he could not use his microwarp drive while under cloak, he wasn't looking at any speed records. The number of Ammatar security ships here was hardly a normal deployment. Something was definitely wrong. Their deployment was typical around the gate, and a quick check of his tactical display overlay showed him they were deployed in a crescent shape beyond the edge of the gate. He started taking down numbers, then it hit him. He hadn't reported back!
"Zool, it's Drakus." He began. A sigh of relief came clearly over the line from the other system. "Sorry, I got preoccupied for a moment."
"Anything to report?"
"Yeah, you could say that. I'm looking at three Ammatar Security Armageddon's, one with command markings. Each supported by four Omen cruisers and two Arbitrators."
"Heck of a lot of ships there." Stated Zoolkhan obviously, reading Drakus' mind.
"My guess is they are not having a fleet picnic, I don't see a BBQ anywhere."
"Not yet, or at least not until the food gets here." Remarked Zoolkhan flatly.
"They are deployed kind of odd, I can't figure it…. Oh shit!"

"What's wrong Drakus?" asked Zool. There was no reply again. "Drakus, report." Again, there was silence, and Zoolkhan's heart began to sink. Shit, he cursed to himself. He was at conflict inside now. Should he send a few ships through to try and rescue him if he had been discovered? That might compromise the fleet. And it raised another question too. Despite their well-known status as freedom fighters and slaver hunters, they would not warrant an unprovoked attack… unless they were after an FU2 member. So they were waiting for Darius, no doubt…
"I'm ok!" came the reply finally. "Still here. I had to bail quickly."
"What happened?"
"The cruisers had fanned out a little more. I thought it was just their deployment pattern for a moment and didn't realise they were moving out in all directions like a wave. They must have caught the initial signature of my ship before I cloaked, and formed a search line."
"Crafty buggers." Commented Zoolkhan bitterly, now aware that they are most likely up against a veteran officer. And yet, deep down, something smiled inwardly at the opportunity to test their metal. "I take it you warped?"
"Yes, thank Matar for these covert-ops cloaks."
"Indeed."
"Anyway, as I was scrambling for my life, it hit me how they were deployed, and I now know Where Darius will be coming from. Hasiari."
"What makes you think that Dakus?" Asked Zoolkhan, inwardly smiling at the expertise of his fellow pilots, and was always amazed by their intuition that seemed limitless at times. Let no man call a Brutor dumb when there were people like Drakus around to prove them wrong.
"They were making a basket Zool. One for someone coming from the Hasiari gate to fly right into, and be both facing an enemy fleet ahead while flanked by two others at the same time. Nowhere to go but away from the gate, and I would guess a classic Navy blockade tactic."
"OK, looks like we have a plan then."
"We do?"
"No, but we had better make it look like we do none the less." Drakus, as well as the rest of the fleet laughed over the communication channel. "OK, settle down. Drakus, I want you to get into the Hasiari system first and check the opposite gate too. See if you can find any more 'baskets' out there. If it's clear, and I hope it is, hold position at the gate there to Sasta. Shout when Darius shows up, then follow him to the Jark gate and join the party with those dampeners."
"Roger that Zool."
"The rest of us will jump into the Jark system as soon as Drakus has eyes on Darius, head best speed to Sasta, and engage the Ammatar fleet at will. You lose your ship, you go to ground until things cool down. Usual drill." Rather than all the fleet communicating their acknowledgments over the communications channel in one messy batch, they all sent a 'blip' signal stating they understood as Zoolkhan's tactical display lit up with blue lights over his fleet. Zool turned his attention to his frigate pilots and other fast ships, and began to reel their names off.
"Hobs, Khal, Ent, Bel, I need you guys to form on Darius' wing when he shows and get him through the gate. Anyone intercepts you, take them down. Khal, you're in charge of that wing once we are through." Hobsbawn was flying a Stiletto class interceptor, ideal for holding enemy ships in place, and in some cases capable of killing them without help. Khaldorn Murino and Entarel Helfir were flying Wolf class assault frigates, the same ship Darius was reported to have been flying when he went missing. And Bel Moulay was flying a fast Stabber class cruiser. The emphasis was on getting clear of the battle zone fast. All pilots acknowledged, and they quickly formed a small pocket in the fleet position around Khaldorn in anticipation of the fight.

Zoolkhan gave the fleet another look over to ensure he wasn't missing anything. He was sure he was. Ahh, there it was.
"Mai, Rahaka, I will need you guys to jam those battleships initially. You too Drakus, I want their range cut to near zero with those dampeners if you can. The rest of you, leave the battleships to the big guns. All battleships will target the flagship first, and I'll call primary and secondary cruiser targets for the rest of you in the remaining cruisers and assault ships. Concentrate your fire on them and ready for the next. And all command Cyclones, keep those relay links running for the duration. I think we will need them." Again, the fleet 'blipped', and a sudden silence fell over them all like the proverbial calm before the storm.

The hike had been short, but exhausting given the rough terrain and the dense and humid air. It was difficult to breath, as though sucking air through a narrow straw. Endurance was one of the Brutor peoples more endearing traits, but even this was taking its toll on Darius. Being a pod pilot was not a benefit either. Long hours at a time suspended motionless in zero gravity hydro-static fluid was not good for the muscles. And as time grew, darkness had slowly begun to descended on the jungle around him, and the sparse shafts of sunlight that illuminated the suspended moisture in the air were growing dim. Not entirely sure about the time of day on the planet, he assumed that it was no where near nightfall. Looking up through the occasionally rare opening in the thick vegetation, he could see dark and heavy looking clouds forming very close to the ground, most likely because the ridge he was on was high up. The spread of the storm was rapid, and showed all signs of being pretty strong. Whatever it was, he hoped it would add some coolness to the air. That much would at least be a bonus.

A little while later, Darius reached the site of the pod crash, spotting it through the dense canopy of the jungle in a carved clearing surrounded by broken vegetation. He drew his gun and crept to the edge of the clearing, his heart pounding with adrenalin in his chest. Before he got to the edge, it was clear from this distance that the pod was empty. Not allowing his guard to drop, he slowly scanned the edge of the jungle around the pod for signs that Ramar might have been lurking in wait for him. Sure that he wasn't, he moved forwards and checked the pod. It was indeed empty, and the survival equipment enclosure had been emptied. There were tracks leading further into the jungle, in a direction Darius remembered seeing a river from the air. He quickly thought back to Shay'la's pod crashing, but it was in the other direction. The only choice before him now was to pursue Ramar. Fuelled by a desire for revenge, Darius set about following Ramar's tracks as the dark clouds above slowly began to release their load.

A short and cautious jog through the jungle following what few signs of travel there were left by Ramar, Darius reached a shallow stream running through a gully down hill. And that was where the tracks stopped. There were no signs of tracks on the other side of the stream, so Darius could only deduce that Ramar was travelling through the stream in an attempt to shake off signs of his trail. And the only thing Darius could guess within was that he would be travelling down hill towards the cliff edge.
So, thought Darius, you're going to climb down the cliff towards that base.

He hastened his pace as he trudged through the mud that was getting thicker with the rainfall, knowing that if Ramar made it to that base he might never get another chance of vengeance. Nearly a half hour had passed before Darius reached the edge of the rock face where the stream trickled and cascaded down the cliff side. Darius grasped one of the hanging trees by the trunk and carefully leaned over the edge, his weapon raised. But there was nothing there. The rock face left few opportunities for cover, and there was no way Ramar could have made it all the way down into the dense vegetation below in this amount of time. He had lost him. Darius took a moment to curse before pulling himself back upright and paced back up the stream while trying to think where Ramar might have gone instead. The cliff face stretched for several kilometres in either direction before it lowered to meet the ground. And there seemed fewer places to climb down beyond here.
So, he thought sombrely, you can't have made it to the base yet.

His train of thought was broken as a rustling through the undergrowth to his left caught his attention, and he swung the gun in that direction while dropping to one knee in the shallow stream. Peering into the darkness, there was nothing to see. A second noise closer to him came from behind, and he was not quick enough to turn and greet it before a large heavy figure pounced onto him, forcing him face down in the water and losing his grip on the gun. He had been caught from behind, but the beast was snarling and sounded more like a wild animal than a man. Was he being attacked by a predator? He fought back, kicking with his legs, trying to get them between him and the wild beast that was pounding him with its heavy limbs, and to try and push it off, but he could not get the leverage to turn over. Darius felt it grab his face from behind, and force his head backwards. He tried to force the animals grip off him, and grabbing the limbs that clutched his face, he could feel fingers. Human hands. It was a man.

Darius regained his sense of location and managed to hook his own hands through his attackers arms and, sliding his right knee beneath him, he lifted his body upwards while pulling forwards with his arm. He reached up with one hand and grasped his attackers head, sending him face first into the stream, that was becoming more of a violent torrent as the rain continued to fall more and more heavily. He bowled his opponents legs to the side. He quickly scrambled to his feet, and reached for his gun, but the other man came back on the attack quickly and just as savage as before, body charging Darius to the floor once more before he could reach the gun. His combat training combined with pure instinct quickly took hold of him, as his attacker was determined to make this a close fight, and Darius used his attackers momentum to throw him off to the side and lose his grip once more, as both men became sodden with mud. Darius, on pure instinct grabbed a rock from the riverbed and turned to face his enemy.
"You never respected me!" shouted his attacker, and Darius froze a moment, recognising his own voice.

The man rolled over onto his back, and Darius was greeted by the sight of his own face. Perplexed, he was unable to grasp the situation.
"Go on then!" shouted the other man. "Kill me. You've done it before!" Darius' eyes widened at that comment. It could not be…
"K…" Darius strained "Kordan?" Without answer, Kordan lashed out with a simple scissor sweep with his legs, sending Darius crashing back into the river that was rushing in torrents, dropping the rock into the water. Darius quickly scrambled to his knees, but was driven back into the water as Kordan dived on top and, with both hands clasped around the back of Darius' neck, he pushed his brothers face into the deep water and through the thick mud. Darius gagged in the water as his own brother tried to drown him in cold blood.

Darius struggled against Kordans grip on the back of his head, clawing in desperation as his eyes became heavy with darkness. Finding a tight grip, despite his slippery hands, Darius once more manages to throw his attacker over. Darius threw his head back and drew in a sharp breath, causing him to have a coughing fit while gipping on the muddy water in his throat. Kordan regained his balance and lunged at Darius. On pure instinct, Darius takes hold of Kordans outstretched hands and rolls over, locking his elbow under Kordans armpit and sending him rolling down hill through the torrents of water. Darius watched as Kordans legs rolled over the edge of the falls, and Kordan slowly slipped from view as he failed to gain a hold to pull himself back.
"Kordan!" yelled Darius, as he pushed towards the ledge. Reaching it, he fell to his stomach on the riverside with his head stretched over the edge. Kordan was hanging on to one of several outstretched roots that had broken through the cliff face. Darius thrust his hand down and tried to grab his brothers arm. A conflict of emotion ran through him and he hesitated short of reaching him. He had accepted his brothers death as much as he could over the last year. Yet here his brother was, inhabiting a clone of himself. It could never be his brother again.
"My master will have you, scum!" snarled Kordan, his gaze piercing coldly through the wash of washes of water that rushed past, enveloping his body is surges.
"Kordan," shouted Darius. "Grab my hand!" He thrust his hand further down. "Grab my hand brother!"
"I'm no brother of yours!" spat Kordan bitterly. "My master told me the truth about you. You killed me!"
"No!" Darius heard the root snap and quickly grabbed Kordan by the wrist. "Kordan…" Darius strained to keep hold through the rushing water and, slowly, Kordan began to slip away.
"Going to kill me again traitor?" hissed Kordan. Darius clenched his jaws as he tried to pull Kordan up, but could not keep hold any longer and Kordans hand slid through Darius'.
"KORDAN!"

Darius could only watch as his brother plummeted down the ledge and into the fine mist that formed at the base of the falls.

"Are we close?" shouted the commander into his intercom unit over the whine of the small crafts plasma thrusters. He was half leaning out of an open slide hatch on the side of the VTOL craft that was skimming along the top of the jungle canopy, and the fierce rain lashed all around. If it were not for his visor goggles, the rain might blind him. Even then, the goggles did not protect his face from the cold hard sting of the rain, which he actually liked. It kept him sharp. Behind him, seated in two racks, was a small party of armed guards dispatched to investigate the crashes.
"Sir, we are just entering the first clearing." Came the hollow and tinny reply over the comlink, followed by the click of the circuit disconnecting.
"Do we have space to land?"
"Negative sir. The clearing is too small."

The commander turned to his team.
"OK guards. Prepare rope harnesses for a rappel…"
"Sir, we have something on the scanners. Large metallic mass to the east."
"Understood captain." He turned back to the men again. "Prep for a rappel drop just in case, then stand by. Check weapons."
The VTOL converted for forward flight and headed towards the next clearing, quickly covering the distance and coming to a halt above another clearing, directly above a Wolf assault frigate sat to one side of the clear patch.
"Scanners show minimal standby power only sir." Came the hollow and tinny voice over the comlink.
"Plant us somewhere for a combat drop captain." Ordered the commander.
"Yes sir."

The VTOL jet's thrusters angled slightly and the light craft slid to the side of the Wolf. The side hatched opened wider as the guards hooked their combat harnesses to ropes.
"Go!"
One by one, the men leapt from the craft hatches head first, wrapping their feet around the rope above them in their wake. As each man neared the bottom, he released his feet from the rope, and applied pressure with his gloved hands, bringing him to a dead stop mid air less than five feet from the ground. Their momentum carried through and the troops flipped backwards gracefully, and obviously well trained, landing on their feet and quickly releasing the clasp of their rappel gear, freeing them from the rope.

They raised their weapons and spread out in a circular pattern, dropping to one knee and scanning the tree line beyond their insertion point. The commander turned to the captain of the VTOL and told him to return to base to bring reinforcements, then followed his troops down to the ground, unbuckling his harness and issued orders for his men to spread out. Above them, the VTOL tilted its thrusters and quickly vanished over the tree tops towards the base, leaving the fading high pitch whine of the engines in its wake.

"Sir." Announced one of the troops near the edge of the clearing.
"What is it guard?" he enquired.
"Tracks in the soft dirt, leading away from the ship into the jungle." He punctuated his finding by pointing to the tracks and tracing their direction to the tree line with his finger. The commander raised his hand to his headset and activated the frequency.
"Base, this is Epsilon team." The comlink crackled with static a moment as it cycled decryption frequencies before a voice came clear over the circuit.
"Epsilon team, base. Go ahead."
"We have intruders. Request a backup team to secure the site, VTOL is RTB." There was a pause as the operator on the other end relayed his request, then came back with a reply.
"Base received, backup request approved. Red force not authorized, repeat; not authorized." He said, referring to the permission of use of lethal force being withheld. "Take them alive, commands order." The unit commander groaned at that last part, as it would be difficult while not knowing what they were against. But he knew better than to argue orders with their new base commander, who tolerated little questioning from all but the most senior personnel under him, some kind of young hotshot he heard.
"Understood base. ETA and ID on backup team?"
"Gemini team under prep orders. ETA point two-zero."
"Understood. Epsilon out."