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Terra Vanguard
Chapter 16: Last Light on the Coast

Chapter 16: Last Light on the Coast

"And nobody thought it would be a good idea to keep the Leader-Commander—me!—informed of the largest spiritual cascade ever observed!" Leader-Commander Axton Tambor resisted the urge to slam his fist down on the briefing room table as he angrily lambasted his subordinate officers for their failure. He’d have liked to continue his harsh critique, but as quickly as he had started, he returned to a calm and professional demeanor, running a hand through his hair and having a seat. Throwing a fit was unprofessional, but occasionally necessary. And it did make him feel better. The assembled group of officers now moved on to dealing with the situation, calculating a response to the disaster in Los Angeles. Tambor was aware of the active investigation that was launched in an attempt to probe a suspected vampire clan on the United States' west coast. He was not told that they had found what was, essentially, a nuke right in the middle of it—not until it had already become an emergency. They had already taken six casualties, had three missing agents, and a stealth VTOL crashed somewhere within the city with four more aboard. That in itself was a disaster, as that Foxhound was a treasure trove of advanced technology.

Around the briefing table, which displayed a readout of the current conditions on the ground, were his personal staff officers. They represented each of the Vanguard’s primary divisions and fulfilled a few miscellaneous niches. The rest of High Command was back on the Salvo Archipelago. Of note, one person not affiliated with the Vanguard was seated at the table: Special Counsel to the President of the United States, Joseph Thorpes. He was returning with them to Salvo to act as an unofficial 24/7 representative on behalf of the United States. The meeting with President Constantine didn't go horribly but it had not achieved much, other than the establishing of diplomatic communications and some protocols to prevent fratricide if the two's forces ever encountered each other. The head of state was not enthused when Tambor declined to promise to communicate permissions if the Vanguard ever had to deploy into U.S territory.

Thorpes sat quietly and observed the exchange, a notepad resting on his knee, which he occasionally scribbled in.

Tambor took a deep breath. "What carriers are available?" he asked.

Commander Dewitt, a lean British man and former RAF officer, answered. "The Iron Heart is in the Pacific, off the Aleutians. She’s the closest and currently carrying the 2nd Airborne Brigade. The Cry Havoc has finished her repairs and is currently awaiting troop onload at the Stingray Facility. They are the only two available. The Defining Moment is Salvo-side. She had to return to drydock because of cracks found in her starboard engine's fan blades. The Coup De Grace is still undergoing repair after Tinian."

Only two carriers available. That was not ideal for the situation they faced. Tambor considered his options. "What ground units can we load onto the Havoc?"

"The 1st Mechanized, 3rd Motorized, and 4th Armored are available."

"Load up the 1st Mechanized, they have recent experience. Tell Kilmer to clear as much deck space as possible. Reinforce them with as many elements of the 4th as she can. Summon the conventional fleet as well. I want as many missile boats as possible. I want the submarines Siren and Ningyo on station ASAP," Tambor ordered, knowing these units would not be sufficient. A fight with a cascade and the vampire forces that would no doubt come along with it was going to turn Los Angeles into Stalingrad. "We’ll have to make it work. Is the new special amphib ready?"

"Her crew is untested, but yes," Dewitt told him.

"Then she’ll carry the rest of the 4th with her."

Commander Dewitt raised a concern. "I'm concerned transporting our units by such means will only feed them into the grinder piecemeal."

"As long as we go in knowing that, we’ll be fine. This will not be like Kotlin. We’ll prosecute the cascade and any enemy forces on our terms and defeat them in detail."

"If I may," Thorpes interrupted, "Casual discussion of invading my nation aside, why is a cascade such a big deal? You’ve stopped them before, no? Like the one in Russia," he asked, genuinely inquisitive.

Tambor answered him, "'Cascade' is pretty much a catchall term. It refers to any spiritual, occultic, or magical entity that can be created by a vampire. They’re created by manipulating mortal souls with blood as a catalyst and can fulfill any number of tasks. They can summon demons, use them to teleport long distances, summon resources, or transmutate things. We don’t know how they do it or where they draw the knowledge to do this from. Generally, the bigger the cascade, the more of a threat it is. The largest before now was stopped before it could be fully formed. It was the size of a doorway. The one in Los Angeles is estimated to be about the size of a van. The implications of that alone should scare you."

Thorpes maintained a stoic expression despite the revelation. "I will need to inform my President of this."

"Please do. And please inform him we will be moving several thousand tons of combat equipment into your airspace. NORAD probably already knows that we've deviated from our planned course."

Just as Tambor said that, the intercom came alive with the pilot's voice. "Sir, we have American Air Force jets inbound. They're asking what we're doing."

"I shall see what I can do about that," Thorpes said, leaving the room.

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Cutup 2 spun from the impact of the firetruck. The starboard engine belched fire, and the entire winglet it was connected to bowed inward. The Foxhound lost altitude as the pilot fought to keep the VTOL from flipping over onto its back. Through skillful manipulation of the control surfaces, the Foxhound fell flat on its belly into a nearby alleyway. It came down hard, impacting the pavement with enough force for both winglets and the tail booms to bend downward. The craft still possessed enough lateral speed to cause it to skid along its belly, tearing out chunks of concrete. The control surfaces were ripped away after colliding with buildings. It finally came to a stop in a narrow bottleneck, right-side up but leaning starboard. It was tightly wedged in with the cockpit against a brick wall and where the tail used to be against the opposite building. The airframe was badly mangled, but still in one piece. The nose gun was ripped from its mount and thrown out into the street proper.

Cutup 2 punched the quick-release on his harness. "Bail, bail, bail!" he shouted back at his passengers. He was able to kick out his windshield and crawl out onto the nose. Inside the troop compartment, things were a little more tricky. Perelli and Vogel were fine, bar some bruising. The sniper was less so. R2C Gunman was unconscious. The two had to carefully lift him over the debris.

"Your man's heavy for a sniper," Perelli remarked as he struggled to maneuver him onto the ground.

"Ja, he's a member of the one-thousand-pound club," Vogel said.

"Squat?"

"Deadlift."

"Damn."

They moved him to a safe distance with the help of the pilot, Warrant Officer Lance. Once clear, Lance ignited several thermite grenades in the cockpit, destroying the aircraft's sophisticated electronics.

The Los Angeles skyline was outlined by the sun setting in the west, the gravity of their situation began to set in. A smoky haze had settled over the city, creating a ghostly atmosphere of red and white. Sporadic gunfire could be heard at varying distances. Perelli wiped off a cluster of white flakes that had settled onto his arm. He realized it was ash. They could still see the remains of Venicia Luxury Apartments. The top several stories were burning intensely. They needed to put space between themselves and the cascade.

He keyed his radio. "TOC, Perelli. Come in."

Static.

"TOC, Perelli. Do you read?"

Instead, he got a response from Cutup Lead. "This is Cutup Lead. TOC is gone. I have eyes on their hooch; looks like they evaced after a fight. No bodies. I'm rerouting to home base to drop off wounded."

"Copy, Cutup Lead. We are down two blocks south of the target. Four individuals. One wounded. Request evac. Over," Perelli asked.

"Negative, R1C. I'm overloaded as it is. I'll drop off the wounded and reroute to your position. ETA four-zero minutes."

Perelli cursed internally. "Copy, Cutup. We may be forced to escape and evade. Will keep you advised. Over and out."

"No pickup?" Lance asked, glancing sentimentally at his downed bird, which was now fully engulfed, lighting up the alleyway.

"No pickup." Perelli confirmed. "But we still need to get away from that thing. Is he good to move?" He gestured to Gunman.

Vogel had the large man's ballistic facemask lifted up and was occasionally squirting water from his hydration bladder on him in a bid to wake him up. "Ja, no broken bones. I think he took a big hit to ze head."

Perelli slung his rifle over his shoulder. "Alright, you get one arm, I got the other."

"No need." Vogel insisted. He expertly rolled the unconscious man upwards by his left arm and firmly centered his weight on his shoulders in a fireman's carry. "He may be 1000 pound club, but I am 500 pound." He said, seeming to find using imperial units distasteful. "We go." He gestured for the squad leader to lead the way. The trio set out into the chaos.

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

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Being an executor was an important and respected role. The doer of deeds, the right of hand to the queen. But for all its prestige, it lacked luxury; something Vespera rarely got to enjoy. The back of the gloss black Escalade SUV was outright opulent. Rich leather upholstery with gold inlays, fancy creature comforts and even a small liquor cabinet. A dark-tinted partition separated her from the driver. A skeleton guard rode behind her in the trunk. "A fitting chariot ride to my greatest success." she thought while sipping a cognac-blood mixture. It was a little light on the blood side. She had had several meals today.

The Cadillac rode smoothly onto the scene of the Vencicia apartments chaos. The building burned overhead while the streets were wet with water from firehoses that had been left unattended by firefighters after they'd fled the scene. It created a beautiful reflection akin to a burning sky on the pavement. Emergency vehicles sat idle, lights still flashing. The street was completely abandoned and lay silent with the exception of the burning building and the gunfire ambiance of a city in crisis.

Vespera took it all in. The most beautiful sight she had ever scene. The machinations of man brought to a grinding halt by her efforts. The efforts of one immortal vampire. She approached an ambulance, there she spotted her new acolyte. One of her making. Bent over a body on a stretcher, sobbing, was Sadie Harper. Not her first choice of candidates to host the cascade, but one that would do well enough. The cascade warped around her like an ethereal blanket in constant movement. Vespera approached cautiously. The cascade could be as much of a danger to her as it would a mortal.

"It is always painful to see them go." Vespera leaned in, her voice smooth and comforting, like a warm embrace. Though lacking a certain innate empathy. "What has happened to you is a terrible thing. The world can be cruel, but it doesn't have to be this way. You have power now, Sadie, power that few can even dream of. I can help you understand it, control it, use it to make sure no one ever hurts you again."

Sadie blinked through her tears, trying to process the surreal situation. Her mind was still spinning from everything that had happened, and now this strange woman was talking like she knew her.

"Who are you?" Sadie asked again, her voice trembling.

Vespera smiled, a mixture of motherly concern and cold calculation. "I am Vespera, a servant to a queen belong to a powerful race. And you, my dear Sadie, are my creation. The cascade that surrounds you, that protects you—it's something I helped bring into this world. You are a reflection of my work, a testament to what can be achieved when one truly embraces their potential and casts off the shackles of mortality.

Sadie’s squinted suspicious and confused. "You… you created this? You made me like this?"

"In a manner of speaking," Vespera said, her voice low and soothing. "I guided the energies, the forces that now reside within you. I saw something special in you, something worthy of this power. And now, together, we can reshape this world, Sadie. You and I, we can create a place where you’ll never have to fear again. All you have to do is trust me."

Sadie looked down at Seeb's lifeless body, still overwhelmed by grief. "But… Seeb… he’s dead because of this. Because of me."

"Seeb’s death was not your fault. It was a tragedy, but it wasn’t your doing. The world is full of people who would harm you and those you love. But with the power you now possess, we can ensure that no one ever takes from you again. We can bring justice to those who would stand in our way." Vespera fought to stop the drip of enthusiasm she felt from edging its way into her voice. This hapless mortal was hers.

As Vespera spoke, Eclipsion pulsed gently around Sadie, its presence ever-watchful. It fed her emotions, magnifying her grief and loss, but also her doubt. The cascade seemed to whisper to her without words, warning her, trying to guide her away from the vampire’s honeyed lies. It showed her images, feelings—snapshots of truth buried beneath Vespera's manipulations.

Sadie hesitated, caught between the seductive promise of Vespera’s words and the silent, ethereal love of Eclipsion. The cascade had protected her, saved her life. Could she really trust the woman who claimed to have created it?

"You’re not alone anymore, Sadie. The power within you… it’s a gift, and I’m here to help you wield it. To make sure you never feel this kind of pain again. Join me, and I promise you, you’ll never have to be afraid."

Eclipsion responded, a subtle but insistent pressure in Sadie’s mind. It didn’t speak in words, but in impressions—flickers of Vespera’s true intentions, of the darkness behind her kind eyes. It showed her that Vespera didn’t fully understand the cascade, didn’t grasp the enormity of what she had unleashed. Sadie saw through the veneer of control and power that Vespera projected. She saw the vampire’s fear, her ignorance of the true nature of Eclipsion. The cascade was more than a mere tool; it was a being of its own, with thoughts, feelings, and a will to protect its chosen host.

Sadie looked up, her tears drying as resolve began to harden within her. "You… you say you created this, but you don’t even know what it is, do you?" she asked, her voice steadying. "You don’t know what you’ve done."

Vespera’s smile faltered slightly, a flicker of uncertainty crossing her facial features. "I’ve given you power, Sadie. The power to-"

"Enough!" Sadie stood up straighter. Her words were not loud but carried a weight that impacted Vespera and reverberated down the street. Vespera's eyes widened in shock. Sadie’s eyes locked onto Vespera’s, a newfound determination burning within her.

Vespera took a step back, instinctively sensing the shift in power. The cascade around Sadie pulsed with a growing intensity, its presence becoming more defined, more palpable. The air vibrated with an energy that crackled and sparked, like a storm gathering in the atmosphere. The streetlights flickered, and shadows danced in unnatural patterns as if responding to an unseen force.

Sadie’s hand slowly lifted, and with it, the energy of Eclipsion surged. The cascade responded to her will, a vast and powerful force at her command. Vespera could feel it, a consciousness within the cascade that was far from the mindless energy she had assumed it to be. It was sentient, and it was angry.

"Stop this!" Vespera’s voice wavered, the confidence she once held slipping away. She realized, too late, that the cascade was no longer something she could manipulate. It had grown beyond her influence, a living entity that had chosen Sadie as its host.

Vespera’s eyes darted around, searching for a way out, but there was none. She was trapped, and for the first time in centuries, she felt true fear. The fear of something greater than herself. The realization hit her like a ton of bricks—she had not just created a weapon but something with a will of its own, and it had chosen to stand against her.

"On your knees," Sadie commanded, her voice unyielding. Eclipsion’s energy surged forward, pressing down on Vespera with an invisible weight that crushed any resistance she might have had.

"No… this is impossible," Vespera whispered, her pride battling against the overwhelming force. But even as she tried to resist, her legs buckled under the pressure, and she fell to her knees, powerless before the very being she had sought to control.

Sadie stepped forward, the cascade swirling around her like a living entity, a guardian that watched over its chosen. She felt its love intensify. She looked down at Vespera, the woman who had once seemed so powerful, now reduced to submission before her. There was no pity in Sadie’s gaze.

"Kneel." She commanded.

Vespera clenched her fists, her pride stinging at the humiliation. She had always been in control, always the one pulling the strings. To be brought low by her own creation, by the very power she sought to wield, was humiliation like none other. But she knew when she was outmatched. She had to survive this, even if it meant swallowing her pride.

"I submit." Vespera bowed her head, not bothering to hide her venom or discontent.

"Then you will do as we command." Sadie said, her voice echoing slightly. Eclipsion dug into her brain, manipulating her in turn.

This peaked Vespera's curiosity. "What do you wish?"

"The ones responsible for this." She looked over at Seeb's body. "I want justice."

"That will take time. It would be a massive effort." Vespera exaggerated, hoping to maintain some sense of control. She was rewarded by a tendril of glowing energy whipping around her neck and throwing her against the ambulance; hard enough to dent the side. It kept a tight grip around her neck. Sadie approached her. The closer the cascade came to Vespera, the more her skin began to burn. The vampire struggled against its unyielding might.

"Do not deceive me, vampire." Sadie said. "Or you will not live to see the morning." her mind raced through calculations she previously thought impossible, tapping into an incomprehensible database. Using it, she predicted where the soldier's aircraft had crashed.

"Their machine is aflame in an alley 1.24 miles from here. That way." She pointed. "Bring them to me."

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Sneering, Vespera slammed the SUV's door shut. That cascade was supposed to be her ticket out of her master's shadow, but that damaged paramedic had stolen it from her. Alas, it was entirely her fault. The ritual was supposed to enslave a demon to her will—all of the power, none of the responsibility. Evidently, she had been too successful. Whatever that thing was, it was smart; and it had attached itself to the girl. This mess had to be cleaned up.

She motioned to her skeletal guard, a scheme forming. "Inform the Gumi: track down the Vanguard's lackeys. Bring them in, dead or alive. Inform me when you find them." The skeleton nodded at her clear instructions. "And inform Svetlana. Tell her to unleash her pet on the city. It's probably the only thing that can take on that infernal cascade."

The skeleton scowled at her.

Vespera huffed, "My Queen wanted a distraction. She will get one."

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Salvo Island

The Stingray Facility earned its name from its unique design, resembling the flat, wide shape of a stingray. Situated off the coast of Salvo Island, it was connected to the main island by a long, flat causeway that eventually branched out into four massive floating basins. Each basin was purpose-built to accommodate a sky-carrier, functioning much like a traditional drydock but on an enormous scale. These basins allowed the colossal carriers to land and seamlessly interface with an intricate web of cranes, support structures, and logistical facilities. The expansive flatlands between the basins served as staging areas, buzzing with shipyard equipment, and troops waiting to be onloaded.

The onloading of Cry Havoc was a battle in itself. The urgency of the situation was so great that Foxhounds were landing directly on the ship’s deck to deliver supplies, bypassing the facility's massive elevators, which were now entirely focused on getting ground forces onboard. Hundreds of workers swarmed over the carrier’s hull, their arc welders casting showers of sparks as they performed last-minute maintenance and repairs. The ship's new nose, where fresh plating had been installed after taking direct hits from anti-ship missiles, stood out starkly from the rest of the hull, its unpainted surface gleaming under the harsh lights.

A convoy of military equipment, tanks, trucks, and armored vehicle, snaked down the causeway in a bumper-to-bumper traffic jam, stretching all the way back to the island. The roar of engines and the clanging of machinery filled the air, denoting the frantic pace of preparations. Every moment was critical, every piece of equipment vital as the augmented mechanized brigade scrambled to get onboard.

R1C Milovovich glanced up at the colossal silhouette of the sky-carrier as Alpha team's truck crawled forward in the queue, inching ever closer to its massive form. "Behold, a pale horse," he murmured, reverence in his voice. "And hell followed with him."

Kurt, sitting in the back, furrowed his brow and tilted his head. "Huh?"

Milo pointed up at the carrier, its dark outline dominating the skyline. "You know, a pale horse," he repeated, his hand tracing the towering shape above them. Then he gestured back inside the cab. "And hell followed with him."

"So... we're hell?" Kurt asked, still trying to catch on.

"Yes!" Milo replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Kurt stared at him blankly. "Huh."

"What?" Milo demanded, noticing the look.

"I dunno, I was expecting a joke or something," Kurt said, shrugging.

Milo shot him an indignant look. "What am I, some kind of clown? Here solely for your entertainment?" he asked, offended.

Both Kurt and Tora exchanged a glance, their raised eyebrows saying more than words ever could.

Below them, ocean waves crashed against the pilons that held up the bridge. Unseen, A clawed skeletal hand reached up out of the sea and grasped the rough concrete surface.