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Patterns of evidence: the red sea miracle watch full length 2016. The first of the alarms sounded moments before they reached the bridge. It was wider than the Maizer s and accommodated multiple rows of stations for the Human officers. At the head of it all was an oversized seat, occupied by the tall Human Commander. She manipulated the floating controls with practiced ease while the alien script flashed unintelligible warning and reports, echoed across every other screen in the room. “FTL event detected, Commander, ” a man shouted. “Fleet scale Alcubierre drives, tentative rating of class four! ” “Tch, ” Madsen scoffed. “Took them long enough. Bridge Lieutenant Walker, confirm retrieval of all boarding craft! ” “All ships accounted for; hangar bays are sealed, Commander! ” The woman expanded a three-dimensional battlescape in front of her console, rotating it peculiarly to place the Gheist “above” the Jaak fleet. It was then that she noticed Taran nearby and motioned for him to take a seat opposite the First Lieutenant, who was either managing his temper or hadnt noticed the gesture. “Let us see, ” she muttered to the Vall Soldier, “how much theyll bleed before their courage falters. ” The Gheist s lights dimmed then, and an officer announced they had reengaged the stealth systems. A quiet descended upon the Interstellar Navys scout craft as the seconds ticked onward. Madsen nudged the controls to give the Maizer a healthy berth as it drifted peacefully across the star field, waiting to deceive their enemy. The stars bent, a million lights stretching to a dark point that folded in on itself. Then it moved, and the Jaak fleet appeared in all of its terrible glory. Each ship was formed from bulbous and segmented pods, joined together by blade-like protrusions along with the “main mast” they were built around. Banners and golden spires gilded the largest vessels, while others were dressed in the trophies of ships theyd defeated. “Open channel detected, ” another Human announced. “They should have received our pre-recorded warning by now, but the xenological communication is uninterceptible at our current deviation from point of origin. Should we tap into the Maizers systems, Flight Commander? ” “Negative, Lieutenant. We cant risk them detecting any emissions from our Gheist. ” After a brief hesitation, the Jaak fleet adjusted their formation to correct for shift-disruption before accelerating. The largest ships began to twist, their sides opening to expose deadly arsenals. “Those are the carriers, ” Taran growled. “Theyre launching boarding spikes. ” Red flares burst forward, homing in on the Vall ship. Despite the vast distance, they closed quickly, their surfaces blurring as inertial negation fields were supercharged before impact. The first salvo struck, burying themselves into the wide upper deck before deploying their surface guns. It wasnt necessary though; the Maizer had no point defense weapons to defend itself with. “Parasites anchored, Commander. Our reconnaissance drones will begin omnidirectional transmission in three… two. one. ” A kaleidoscope of images plastered half of the bridge, each showing a different part of the Maizer. Swarms of Jaak were navigating the cramped hallways in the heavy armor that obscured their leathery hides, searching for the Vall that had mysteriously disappeared from the ship. “Transmission at point-oh-oh-one percent loss. The Jaak fleet should be receiving loud and clear, ” a woman reported with a hint of amusement. “Local jamming complete as well. The Jaak have been cut off from their troops. ” “Quite the elaborate trap, Commander Madsen, ” Taran praised with an appreciative click. “All they can do is watch. ” The Human bowed her head. “Thank you, Soldier-Taran, but the credit must go to my First Lieutenant. It was his idea to, as we say, give their fleet ‘front row seats. ” Lieutenant Baker pushed his jaw outwards without turning to the Vall, who eyed him with interest. Something about the sadistic nature of the plan seemed to fit the male Human, Taran thought. The Commander swiped her hands across the controls, bringing up a waveform. The Jaaks alien dialect reverberated the air in the bridge, and Taran instinctively bared his fangs at the sound. “They think the ship was a decoy, ” Madsen translated, “but theyre still planning to scuttle it. ” The officers on the Human bridge turned their attention to the camera feed as the Jaak slowed. Their hulking shapes filled the wide hallways, an imposing sight even with their guard down. Others still kept their rifles leveled as they checked and double-checked side rooms and maintenance halls, but none could find a Vall in sight. But they were not alone. A black form lowed itself to the floor, silent amongst the Jaaks pneumatic hissing and the aching groans of the Maizer s impaled hull. It had been completely invisible moments before, even to the multi-spectrum sensors the Jaak carried, but they reacted to its presence now. Taran heard the barked orders as the boarders turned to face the mysterious figure with supernatural agility. They stared in confusion at the thing, unlike any mechanical warrior the Vall had attempted to fight them with, before they decided on their primary response to an unknown threat: fire. The Human raised their hand, from which a perfect circle spread across the width of the hall. It was perfectly black, without any discernible features or imperfections, unlike any shield the Vall Soldier had seen. But then, as the first of the Jaaks rifles spat a hypersonic slug towards the Human, the twin revealed themself behind the boarders. They raised their hand as well to deploy a similar shield, only now neither of them were that depth-less dark color, but what looked like mirror images of the other. A dozen Jaak railguns opened up inside the Maizer, a deadly arsenal racing towards the Humans. It was enough to overwhelm any defense the Vall couldve hoped to erect in time and kill the Soldiers in their armor. But none of it reached the Human. The Jaak screamed as their own weapons began to slaughter them. The endless tunnel was filled with a storm of kinetic penetrators that pierced them again and again, filling the hall with gore as their bodies were torn apart. Helmets were turned inside out, torsos imploded, arms were violently torn away. It took seconds for the Jaak to cut themselves down. The Skinsuits deactivated the portals and the slugs bounced harmlessly off of them. “Reactor, ” one breathed. “Bridge, ” the other replied, and they turned away and sprinted down the hall, leaving the corpses without a second glance. “We lost more than lives to the Inga, ” Madsen said quietly, bringing the wide-eyed Vall back to reality. “So much of our history, our science, our power was consumed by their lust for destruction. The technology that went into those suits… it could take a thousand years for us to master it again. ” The Marines closed in on their respective targets, their unsuspecting prey trying with increasing panic to contact the group lying in pieces amidships. The one heading for the reactor was the first to engage, jumping over the Jaak and dropping an unassuming sphere in the middle of them while mid-air. None of the armored aliens noticed the Human nor the bio-bomb that went off a moment later. Their deaths were soundless except for the clatter of empty armor against the deck. The other was less discreet, unsheathing a plain-looking knife to bisect the nearest Jaak. Even aided by their exoskeletons, they were worse than sluggish trying to react to the black blur. The Human soldier spun and decapitated their foe, took the rifle from his hand and shoved it through the breastplate of another. The knife jackhammered into the back of a Jaak, rupturing every vital organ in his body so quickly that the knife came away unbloodied. Bullets started to fly, but none of them could line their aim up with the Human, who kicked through the faceplate of one and jammed the knife up to the haft in anothers throat. The explosive slugs detonated around the room, killing some of their own, before the Human finished the fight by throwing the knife through the remaining enemy. The Skinsuit effortlessly retrieved their knife from the bulkhead and became invisible once more. “Half of the xenological threat has been neutralized, Commander, ” an officer reported. “No casualties to Interstellar Navy forces. ” Taran felt an uncontrollable shiver run down his spine as he watched the Skinsuits fight with abandon. Hed killed Jaak before. He understood how that death, that visceral demise could appeal to a Soldiers primal anger. He remembered the universal expression of horror as the life left their eyes, he knew that the times he was most alive were when he was locked in that mortal moment. But this was something else. Something worse, crueler, harsher, something beyond hatred and bordering on evil. Taran watched the electrified claws of the Human sink into armor and incinerate a Jaak, suit and all. He watched an anti-material baton pass through armor and flesh with a horrendous buzz, bifurcating the trooper. He watched the Skinsuits arm extend down the length of the hall, piercing a fleeing soldier, the scraps of the corpses heart in hand. He watched one of them warp, reappearing where one Jaak had stood in a shower of gore. He watched the Human lift their pistol and lazily empty the magazine into the chest of a boarder who'd surrendered. It was only when the Skinsuit infantry dropped the head of the last of them that Taran turned away. Madsen, he realized, had paled beside him. The work of their immortals fazed even the Humans. “Enemy casualties are total, Flight Commander, ” the Marines cold voices echoed over the speakers. “Mission objectives are complete. ” Madsen steeled herself with a grim smile. “Acknowledged. Communications, hail their fleet. Lets see if they'll ignore us a second time. ” There was a pause that stretched uncomfortably long. “R-repeating hail on all authorized frequencies, ” the younger communication officer said. Still, no response came. “Pick up, pick up, ” Commander Madsen muttered to herself. “Don't get shy on me. ” “Two-way connection stabilized; translating now! ” an officer triumphantly declared. The bridge was filled with the image of a battle-scarred Jaak, his chest adorned with medals and trophies. It was a rare opportunity to see a “naked” Jaak for the Vall Soldier. Their armor hid their hairless hides and diminutive tails, their six-fingered hands, and the second set of spindly arms below the muscular trunks of their dominant pair. Taran could see fury in all six the hunters almost completely black eyes. “Who… are… you, ” he growled slowly, fingers tense where he gripped his armrest. The Human female crossed her legs. “I am Flight Commander Madsen of the Interstellar Navy, ” she answered sharply. “By attacking a vessel under our protection, your fleet has been marked as hostile and your species as a Class C threat. You and your fleet are to leave this system immediately, or your safety cannot be guaranteed. ” The Jaak snarled. “I am Hakor, Fleetmaster of the seventy-second Crusade and Captain of a Justiciar class battleship! You dare threaten me, Commander? ” He spat an unintelligible oath before glaring at the screen again. “I refuse to speak to an enemy that cowers in the darkness. Dont imagine we cant target you either; you were foolish enough to open a comm channel and give away your position. ” Madsen flicked her hand towards one of the officers. “Lieutenant Wilkes, vent radiators and drop EM cloaking. Redirect power to screens. ” “Yes, Commander, ” the man replied without hesitation. All of Hakors eyes blinked simultaneously. “A single ship? ” he scoffed. “Of negligible tonnage. Did you think you could bluff your way to victory, Commander Madsen? ” “Over two hundred and sixty of your soldiers are dead on that ship, Fleetmaster, ” Madsen replied coolly. “You saw just as well as I did that they were completely outclassed. Do you want to risk your fleet on those same odds? ” “We expect casualties in the tens of thousands daily, child, ” the Jaak shouted in hacking laughter. “You boast in killing less than three hundred? Thats a rounding error. ” He leaned forward and grinned. “For coming to the assistance of those wretched blasphemers, you and all your people's lives are forfeit. You have doomed yourselves. ” Madsen raised an eyebrow at the remark before locking herself in the seat. “Fleetmaster Hakor, ” she sighed before running a hand down her mussed hair, “Id advise against making such grandiose statements in the future. ” Hakor shook his head in what Taran imagined was confused disgust. “For the sake of the completeness of our records, ” he seethed, “what do you call yourselves? ” “Were Humans, you genocidal bastard, ” Madsen replied with a note of finality, reaching out to her control panel. “Weapons, full power to defensive arrays! I want our lasers pre-cooled and an emergency jump calculated. Communications, ” she said, turning to address the officer, “prepare a distress call to the Horizon and keep your finger on the trigger. ” The Jaak Fleetmaster disappeared with a bark of laughter and their fleet turned towards the Gheist. The lighting on the bridge turned red as hundreds of vectors appeared, all of them homing in on the Human ship. “Incoming kinetic penetrators, ” the ships computer notified. “Salvos calculated energy insufficient to overwhelm screens. ” “Ready our missile tubes, ” Madsen ordered. “Computer, can we identify their flagship? ” “Negative, Commander. There are numerous Justiciar class battleships in the hostile fleet. Insufficient data is available to isolate the flagship amongst these vessels. ” Flight Commander Madsen huffed. “Fine. Weapons, target their carriers and await my signal to fire. ” “Aye, Commander! ” The Jaaks destroyers finally attacked, firing a massive barrage of missiles, each of which was capable of crippling a Vall capital ship. The weapons coordinated with each other, moving erratically in a swarm of shifting size and depth. The starfield shimmered as beams were scattered in front of the ships prow, bathing the Human craft in harmless light. “Computer, analyze enemy missiles, ” Commander Madsen ordered, ignoring the lasers. There was a beat before the soft voice replied. “Analysis complete. Negligible armor detected. Weapons are capable of negligible evasive agility. Weapons are capable of escapable acceleration. Weapons possess negligible electronic countermeasures. Weapons possess negligible sensor capability. Weapons do not possess Pattern-A screens. Weapons do not possess Pattern-B screens. Weapons do not possess Pattern-C screens. Weapons do not possess Patt-” “Thats enough, ” Madsen interrupted. “Engage standard point defense measures. ” The hull reverberated as thunderous firepower raced towards the missiles, slamming home without error with enough force to vaporize the targets. Even filtered, the atomic fireballs were painful to look at, blocking out the Gheist s view of the Jaak fleet. The Humans own lasers, visualized by the bridges displays, swept across space in bursts, turning the rest of the Jaaks missiles into so much molten metal. “Our turn, ” Madsen said with a twinge of malice. “Empty missile magazines. ” A shrieking choir split the air as the tell-tale blue light of Human propulsion pushed the missiles to speeds Taran could scarcely believe. Where the Jaak missiles had taken a minute to cross half the distance between the fleet and the Gheist, the Human missiles impacted their targets in seconds. The sheer kinetic force tore the carriers half apart before the warheads atomized what remained, the carriers own atmospheres conducting a shockwave that sent shrapnel through their smaller escorts. The flames were quickly choked out on all eight wrecked carriers. It was a swift and deadly blow on a magnitude that the Vall had only matched at the peak of their strength and at a great loss. The Gheist, a mere gunship, had pulled it off almost effortlessly. Violent impacts against a wall that only appeared for a brief moment signaled the arrival of the Jaaks rail fire, unavoidable spreads of super-dense metal rods that could tear through armored plate. The Human ships thrusters fired rapidly, attempting to mitigate the damage, but there was little that could be done against capital-class railguns at this range. “Screen strength at forty-two percent and rising, ” an officer reported, twisting in her seat to address the Commander. “Survival against another barrage like that is unlikely. ” “Hail them again, Lieutenant, ” Madsen ordered. “Give them a final chance. ” Taran heard the First Lieutenants disgruntled sigh, but the man did not voice any opposition to the Commander. The bridge drew a collective breath as the moment stretched on, watching the distant Jaak fleet maneuver away from their fallen allies. No lasers splashed across their shields and no alarms warned of incoming missiles. Taran began to wonder if the Jaak fleet had been so easily thrown into disarray… “Connection established! ” the young officer reported, and Fleetmaster Hakor reappeared. “You have earned my ire, Human, ” he whispered, “but not my respect. You think you can cow us with such a display? A thousand more carriers will replace those obsolete hulks! Even in this quadrant, there are over two hundred in just our reserves. A combined force three times my own Crusade is but a half-days jump away! The Jaak do not know the taste of defeat because victory is our holy right! ” Commander Madsen was unimpressed. “Then consider us your teachers, Fleetmaster. We took our wars to the stars before you had invented your first language. We are precursors, the oldest of species in this and many other galaxies. Even I, Fleetmaster, have lived long enough to see empires rise and fall. It is no boast when I say that your war will be folly. I extend to you a final warning and a chance for peace. Spare the lives of your warriors, or their deaths will be in vain. ” The Jaak roared a word that the computer simply translated as “Insolence! ” before the communication was terminated. Alarms blared again as another volley of rails were flung towards the Human ship in a shotgun spread, lighting up the bridge with their innumerable trajectories. Yet no order to escape came from the Human commander. Taran looked back to where the Maizer drifted. If they escaped now, they would survive… at the cost of the Vall ship. But that didnt matter now. He wouldnt ask the Humans to needlessly put their lives at risk any more than they already had. “Commander, ” he said, resigned. “Do not concern yourself with the fate of our ship. We are willing to deal with your Captain. ” Taran saw the corner of her lips tug upwards. “Soldier-Taran, ” she chided, “I promised to save your ship, and I intend to make good on that. ” She folded her hands in front of her, letting the command chairs holographic controls flash out of existence. “Comms, ” she barked, “send the SOS. ” “Commander Madsen, ” Taran pressed, “the Gheist cannot take a second hit. Your Captain will arrive at our graves! ” “Then you and Hakor will learn the same lesson, ” she said mildly. “Human FTL is instantaneous. ” “Stardrifter-class battlecruiser detected, Commander, ” the navigations officer reported, turning in his seat. “Its the Horizon! ” A dark ring, not unlike the portals the Skinsuits had used, blocked out an entire galactic arm from sight. From that perfect blackness, the hull of a gargantuan warship emerged. Its size defied all reason; the single ship took more space than all of the thinly-spread Jaak fleet. It was roughly triangular and nearly twice as wide as it was long. Like the Gheist, the Stardrifters hull was featureless, save for the engorged “spine” of the ship. On the bridge, a stream of information covered one half of the battlespace, including the ships full identification: “Mark Four [Standardized] ‘A-3 Class Battlecruiser, Stardrifter-series, Hull Number 0187C, ‘ Horizon ” The holographic display shifted to show another woman, though she wore no uniform like any Taran had seen. “Flight Commander Madsen, ” she said cheerfully, “you seem to be in a spot of trouble. Again. ” “Your observations are as astute as ever, Seebee, ” Madsen drawled before tilting her chin upwards towards the ceiling. “Computer, transfer ships log to artificial intelligence CB-one-oh-eight. Include tactical data. ” “Got it, ” the woman said a heartbeat later. “Ooh, youve been busy, Commander. And you only gave the Jaak a Class C rating, how touching. ” She shrugged, turned on her heel, and said in a chillingly emotionless voice, “Very well. Terminating singularity and engaging hostile fleet. ” Taran had just enough time to realize the “woman” was a Human gestalt before the impossible happened. A thunderclap shook the Gheist as the dark ring collapsed into nonexistence, like a deep roar that echoed through the gunships halls. Around them, the starlight bent as the physics-defying shockwave stretched onto infinity. “Kinetic bombardment impact in twenty seconds, ” the computer gently warned. The surface of the Horizon glowed. Lances of fire sliced in front of the Gheist, and one by one the vectors of the Jaaks projectiles blinked out. The gunships own weapons joined in, sniping individual slugs and clouds of shards. As suddenly as it had appeared, the salvo had vanished. “Point defense lasers offline. Commencing counterattack, ” Seebee declared. The Stardrifters hull crawled as millions of weapons were revealed, dividing the Jaak fleet evenly amongst themselves. All at once, they opened fire, and the space between lit up as bright as the sun. Warships folded in on themselves, missiles larger than their targets annihilated entire sub-fleets, and beams cut through battleship plate like wet paper. No defense the Ja'ak had could survive the onslaught. “Enemy fleet attempting to escape, ” the gestalt said. “Interdicting. ” Rays of light shot out from the Stardrifter in every direction, splitting like fractals to form a web around both the Human and Jaak ships as half of the remaining Jaak ships blurred, their shift-drives accelerated them past the speed of light. One after the other, they slammed into the bubble, scattering what dust remained against the survivors shields. The largest ships in the Jaak fleet remained, huddled together in tight formation. Their overlapping shields were barely holding on against the apocalyptic firepower, a feat impressive enough to give the Human AI pause. The Stardrifters weapons fell silent as wreckage from its prey splashed against its screen. Seebee twitched. “Powering down secondary weapon systems. Captain Volkov has authorized use of our Gategun. ” The Human battlecruisers hull transformed again, assuming its sleek form. The trapped Jaak ships waited, unable to run, unable to fight. Taran wondered if they were desperately hailing the nightmarish warship as the Vall had once done. “Safeties off. Firing, ” came Seebees hollow voice. For the third time, a black disk stretched into existence, though nowhere near the size of the moon-sized thing whose demise echoed across a soundless sea. Every Human on the bridge turned away from their controls, waiting for the finishing blow. Light coalesced within the black singularity. “Behold, ” the Commander reverently whispered, “our Excalibur. ” The singularity collapsed, and every ship that remained of the Jaak fleet disappeared. From where the singularity had been only a moment before, a path grew bright with nuclear sunshine. The radiant line stretched far beyond the interdiction web, streaking away until it crossed paths with a local moon. The crust shattered, ejecting a continents worth of dirt and dust into space while the surface burned red. And still the light raced onward, blazing off into deep space. “A network of singularities built around a series of coilguns. The projectile is carefully accelerated to the speed of light before it is finally fired at the target. Velocity alone provides enough energy to initiate nuclear fusion with whatever - or whoever - is in its path, ” Seebee said, the gestalts avatar still staring at the glassy trough the slug had carved. “Its rather simple, really. I find it amusing that nothing else can match its brutal power. ” Seebee turned to look straight at Taran. “Many of our discoveries were lost in the war against our mortal foe, but the Gategun was not amongst them. Dont forget what you have seen today, Vall Soldier. ” Her attention shifted to Commander Madsen. “All threats to reconnaissance unit zero-zero-eight-two-nine-dash-seven eliminated. I am returning control of the Horizon to my retainer. ” The avatar flickered out of existence, quickly replaced by a Human in a battle dress similar to Commander Madsens. The man possessed an almost regal countenance, perhaps from the broadness of his shoulders or his veterans eyes. He stood like a pillar, hands clasped behind his back as his stern gaze locked onto the female officer rising to attention. “Captain! ” she said, snapping her flat-handed salute. “Flight Commander Madsen, presenting mission report. Ships systems are running nominal and all hands are accounted for. Hummingbird missile stocks were depleted in an engagement with a hostile xenological fleet at oh-one-hundred-” “Cut the formalities, Commander, ” the man said gruffly. “I want you to explain the cargo you have aboard your ship. ” Madsens throat twitched almost imperceptibly. “Yessir. Roughly five hours ago, a foreign vessel performed an Alcubierre transfer to this system and moved to a near-intercept course with this ship. There is no evidence that they knew we were here until they were within critical proximity. ” “They call themselves the Vall, ” she continued. “Cultural history is limited, but they are an explorer-type species. They have recently lost an extinction war against the Jaak, the same that attacked us. I ordered an evacuation of the Vall ship after learning that the aggressors preferred to board their targets rather than outright destroy them. ” “Is that why you deployed your Skinsuit infantry, Commander? ” Captain Volkov growled. “Practically unarmed against a force whose capabilities were completely unknown, to protect a xeno ship? ” “My reasons were threefold, Captain, ” Madsen said quickly, holding the mans stare. “The first being that I would not compromise my mission objectives by ferrying refugees to the nearest habitable planet, which meant that their ship had to remain functional. Secondly, I would not deploy regular Marines against the Ja'ak for the very reasons you mentioned. And finally, ” she said, glancing at Lieutenant Baker, “I wanted to send a message. ” Taran watched the Captain carefully, but his demeanor was utterly unreadable. The effect was far more unnerving than if he'd simply been angry. Even when he spoke, it was perfectly neutral. “That leaves the issue of you guaranteeing assistance to a xenological faction not formally allied to the Interplanetary Navy. ” Commander Madsen shifted in her seat. “My actions fell within protocol, sir. The Vall refugees were a non-threat, kept under careful guard, and were cooperative and helpful. Considering the Jaak are only a Class C hostile species, it would be protocol to accept if they surrendered. In that case, the Vall would be a strategic asset; their insight could prove quite useful in negotiations. ” “That may be the case, ” Volkov replied quietly, “but the log shows that you rather conveniently assigned that designation only after you conducted the rescue operation. ” Taran felt a chill pass over the Gheist s bridge. The Captains words were an accusation that hung in the air, waiting on a reply. Madsens chest rose and fell with conscious care while her superiors expectant attention seemed to burn through the air. Her knuckles went white over the chair arm before she finally replied. “Captain Volkov, do you disagree with my classification of the Jaak? ” Taran stared, his twin eyelids fluttering in surprise at her audacity. First Lieutenant visibly recoiled, his mouth open to utter a silent protest. The Flight Commanders challenge was without impudence or disrespect, but a challenge it remained. Even amongst the Vall, such an act merited punishment that ranged from the stripping of honors to a trial for treason. The Soldier didnt dare imagine how the strict Humans would deal with such usurpation. The Horizon s Captain turned away, his jaw tight, and Taran feared for the worst. Regret, pity, and fear roiled within him. He admired the females pride and the benevolence that few of her kind shared, so the prospect of her facing retribution for it pained him all the more. His tail flicked behind him as Volkovs lips parted again, surely to condemn her for stepping so far out of line… And then he laughed. It was short and harsh, but it was unmistakably a bark of laughter. “Flight Commander Madsen, your boldness never fails to surprise me, ” he remarked, his humor faded save for the twinge at the corner of his lip. “After our brief fight, I would agree with your assessment. I will not throw away the opportunity you have provided, though Id encourage less reckless behavior in the future. ” Commander Madsen quietly exhaled. “Of course, Captain. ” “Offload the Vall as quickly as possible and send them on their way, ” he ordered. “The fleet will be moving to deal with the rest of the Jaak soon and I want all of the Horizons gunships fully armed by then. Horizon out. ” The avatar disappeared as the bridge came to life once again. Taran turned slowly as he stood, still in shock from what had transpired in so little time. Commander Madsen took the briefest of moments to collect herself before issuing a stream of orders. The Gheist swung about and moved closer to the Maizer again while the shuttles prepared to take aboard the Vall. Taran found himself face to face with the Commander, who gave him a tired smile. “Perhaps it is clear now why I did not wish to involve the Stardrifter? ” she asked. He nodded silently. Soldiers werent known for their eloquence, but his muteness was more than stoicism. Heartless mutilation, the utter annihilation of the imdominable Jaak, the awesome power the Humans possessed… it left the old Vall without words to speak with. “My officers need me here, ” she pressed on. “And your people need you, Soldier-Taran. Weve sent coordinates to your ship for a habitable planet not more than a days journey for you, but the Vall will not get there without a leader. ” She paused, her eyes darting away. “My own kind… we are not always as kind to strangers as we ought to be. There are few ‘ good Samaritans. ah, but you wouldnt know, ” she trailed off with a rueful grin. “Well, regardless, I can say that we have always been stalwart defenders of our allies. One day, when youve rebuilt your civilization, I hope that it will hold true for you too. ” The Soldier nodded again, and both of them exchanged their native salutes. Madsen bade the Vall farewell as her First Lieutenant looked on, and then Taran was escorted off of the bridge. “Taran! ” a relieved Mag shouted when he finally arrived at the hangar. “The Maizer survived! We survived! ” The junior Soldier turned back to usher the civilians onward and onto the transport. Their eyes were alight with joyous relief, from the oldest males to the youngest children. Certain death had been upon them, and yet here they stood. Luck, chance, or a miracle, something had brought them to the Humans. Even if they really were the last of their kind, they would live on. “We couldnt watch what was going on from the hangar, ” Mag continued, “only hear the battle. The whole ship shook from their weapons! ” The Soldier followed Taran back aboard the shuttle, where they stretched upwards to grip handles built into the high ceiling. Others whispered amongst themselves, shooting curious and anxious glances at their eerily quiet leader. “The fight was over so quickly. Did the Jaak agree to a ceasefire? How did the Humans barter with them? ” Mag pressed. “Look, ” Taran finally said. The hangar bay opened up and the shuttle pushed itself away from the Gheist. Around them, the interdiction web was fading, letting unfiltered sunlight glitter against the cloud of splintered hull that was now drifting apart. There were a few barely recognizable carcasses of the Jaak battleships that still bled fuel and coolant into the great vacuum. Anything smaller than such a hulk had been reduced to dust and memory. From one side of the shuttle, they saw a fiery moon. On the other, a beautiful and terrible warship whose mere presence hushed the gathered survivors. “Theyre gone, ” Mag whispered. “Soldier-Taran, is that… is that the Human ship? The Stardrifter the Commander spoke of? ” “It is, ” Taran replied. “The Jaak never stood a chance. ” The shape of the Maizer suddenly blocked their view, the ships hangar far more inviting than the first time theyd come aboard. The transports legs walked them in after landing, whirring under the passengers feet. They waited with bated breath as the atmosphere flooded back into wide berth; the smallest of them were barely able to stay still. The doors opened, and two giants stood before them. Taran went stiff at the sight of the faceless monsters, the sounds of slaughter ringing in his ears. He was without a weapon, but he knew it wouldnt have mattered anyways. Given the order, the Skinsuits could carve through them in seconds. They approached swiftly, each stride covering as much distance as four of a Valls. The civilians retreated instinctively from the aliens, who stopped just short of the Soldiers. “Your uppermost deck has been hermetically sealed, ” one said. “And the bodies were disposed of, ” the other finished cryptically. As one, they moved to either side of the ramp, allowing the Vall to pass. They hesitated until Mag took the first step, waving for the others to follow. They stared at the motionless statues, muttering amongst themselves. “Are they Humans? ” “Thats impossible, they must be machines. ” “How could only two repel the Jaak? ” Taran was the last to step onto the Maizer s deck, welcoming the heat that radiated off of the deck. It was the last bit of home he had left, even if it- A hand fell on his shoulder, stopping his heart. He turned slowly to see the Skinsuit infantry stooped over, its black faceplate filling his vision. Something alien, something cold touched his mind like a dagger against a throat, and with it came a dead voice: “Captain Volkov says: ‘Dont forget, xeno. ” The Skinsuit snapped upright as Taran stumbled backwards. Still staring at the Soldier, the lithe creature followed its twin onto the transport. The invading chill receded from Tarans mind as the shuttle doors closed, and Taran moved quickly for the airlock, running into Mag in his haste. “Soldier-Taran, ” he said, his tone concerned. “Are you alright? ” No, Taran wanted to reply. By the gods, he was not alright. But he saw that they were not alone, so he squared his shoulders and bit his tongue. “Im fine, ” he shuddered. “Its just been… a lot to take in. ” Mag nodded. “Definitely, ” he sighed, turning to look out of an observation report. “We owe much to the Humans. Im not sure I feel comfortable owing such a debt. ” Taran looked too, watching hundreds of lights drawing near to the Stardrifter, all of them identical to the Gheist that now pulled away from the Maizer. The battlecruiser moved swifter than a ship of its size ought to, turning to project another massive portal. “I wonder if the Humans and Vall will meet again, ” Mag mused. “Not in our time, but maybe in future generations? ” The Horizon s engines flared to life, pushing it through the nether of the portal and to distant stars beyond. “Perhaps we will, Soldier-Mag, ” Taran whispered, watching the singularity collapse to a point. “But I pray that we do not. ” Previous.

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Enter the characters you see below Sorry, we just need to make sure you're not a robot. For best results, please make sure your browser is accepting cookies. Type the characters you see in this image: Try different image Conditions of Use Privacy Policy 1996-2014, Inc. or its affiliates. Hey all, its been a while. Before we begin I just want to say that I love the support this series has been getting, and while I will absolutely be continuing it going forward, there's just no way that I can keep it to a regular schedule. With the holiday season coming in fast, several experienced people at my job leaving for greener pastures, and, of course, the Pacific (and Modern Warfare. dropping right now, there's just no way that I can continue dropping good, high-quality, Tommy Tuesdays that I can be proud of at the rate that I used to. On the bright side however, today's Tommy Tuesday is arguably the most well-researched one yet, as I actually had to go out and buy a book just to find good reliable, information about today's unit. So, without further adieu, let's get right into it! In war-time a naval blockade can be a powerful tool to cut-off your enemies from the outside world. Denied food for their people, resources for their war machine, and communication with potential allies, an enemy under a blockade is at a severe disadvantage. To get around this, small, fast, and stealthy ships will be employed to blitz through the blockade. These ships are called Blockade Runners, and their use in warfare goes back almost as far as the concept of a blockade itself. While the British blockade of Germany was perhaps the largest and most impactful naval blockade of the war, the Wehrmacht introduced a new, novel, take on the concept. For nearly the entire first half of the war, the Luftwaffe reigned supreme over the entire Mediterranean. Any British ship attempting to sail through its waters would come under relentless air attack, forcing the British to sail reinforcements for their embattled North African forces all the way around Africa, a process that took months. In a sense, the Axis Powers air supremacy became its own form of blockade, and one which the traditional blockade runner was ill-equipped to tackle. Today well be exploring the unit that was born to run the Luftwaffes air blockade, and how it came to operate in one of the most forgotten theaters of the war. But first, a quick examination of the Blockade Runner set as it appears in-game. For those who arent already aware, this set was dropped piece-by-piece through “Weekly Airlifts. unlike the others. Exactly like every other deluxe edition set though, this set is just a reskin of other common cosmetics with unique headgear. Curiously though, the set that DICE reskinned for the top of this one, The Patriot, was already reskinned for the Desert Medic. Meanwhile, the legs of this set are taken from The Writer (which we have not covered yet) and are composed of US M42 Paratrooper Pants worn with US Army M43 Double-Buckle Boots. A bandage has also been wrapped around the right leg for extra tacticool appeal or. something. The unique headgear for this set is a knit stocking cap resembling those sometimes worn by British soldiers or US troops along with a pair of US M1944 Dust Goggles. The pattern applied to the individual pieces seems to be loosely inspired by the pattern sometimes applied to US Airborne Pathfinder uniforms, although it is different for the top and bottom. The hat also sports some manner of camouflage patterning. Overall, I am totally unsure of what this set has to do with blockade running in its current state. At least the hat gives off some commando vibes, but if youre dead-set on making a stocking-cap commando the “Death in the Afternoon” headgear may be a better choice. It was a brisk morning in the Scottish Isles when one man set out on a mission to change the face of warfare forever. Armed with little more than his folding kayak and a lifetime of experience, he was determined to prove the worth of his dream to create a special group of kayaking commandos. His target on that day was the HMS Glengyle (later serving with Layforce) and, despite his own crafts lack of size and speed, he was confident that he would be able to board the larger ship and show the officers who had laughed in his face just how wrong they were. Exhausted from nearly a full day of sailing the waters off the Scottish coast, he clambered aboard the large ship and, without drawing attention, wrote his initials on the door of the captains quarters, stole a pair of his trousers, and swiped the cover of a deck gun. Now back aboard his boat, he set course back to Invereray to finally get the recognition his ideas deserved. Exhausted and soaking wet he burst into the hotel in which the officers were staying, the drenched gun cover in his hand, and once more made his case. This time, his concept proven, the officers relented and promoted him to the rank of Captain. He was given the command of a unit of 12 men dubbed the “Folbot Troop, ” and told to begin training immediately. This man was Roger Courtney, but this is not his story. Rather, today we will be following the exploits of the unit that the Folbot Troop would become, the Special Boat Squadron. Below, Courtney can be seen with his dog. This picture was taken in the aftermath of his departure from the Folbot Troop, having fallen terribly ill while training them in North Africa. While the ensuing leadership struggle would mark their decline, David Stirling, commander of the SAS, scooped up the unit shortly before his capture. While his time with them would not be long, his visionary leadership would set the SBS back on the course to greatness. While much of Courtneys uniform isnt visible, it can be inferred that it is likely a basic Battledress Officers Uniform. While it is said that the official founding of the Special Boat Squadron occurred on April 1st, 1943, the truth isnt quite so exciting. While there is an ironic sort of sense to a unit with so impish and mischievous a reputation being founded on April Fools day, in reality the SBS had actually been formed on March 19th, nearly a fortnight earlier. Based on the remnants of D-Patrol, Special Air Service under the command of George Jellicoe, the 2nd Earl Jellicoe, itself based on what remained of the Folbot Troop after the disastrous operation Anglo, the SBS burst onto the scene in early 1943 ready for action. Jellicoe organized his new unit into three squadrons, dubbed "L. M. and "S. after their leaders' initials. Though the track record of their predecessors had been rocky up until that point, it was under the leadership of Jellicoe that things would come to improve, eventually. Operation Husky would see Allied forces taking the first major step back into retaking continental Europe, and marked the full realization of the Allied Powers strength. Before it could begin though, something had to be done about the German bombers stationed on Sardinia. With each one capable of sending an entire transport ship carrying 2, 000 men to the bottom of the sea with a single bomb, the risk posed by the sheer possibility of even one slipping through the Allied fighter screen made many hesitant to give Operation Husky the green light. While the RAF had proven themselves capable of attacking airfields on their own, it was decided that boots on the ground were necessary to ensure the Axis birds stayed in their nests. This, it was decided, was where the SBS L Squadron would have to intervene. Using the SAS raids as a model, a three week long excursion was launched on the 30 of June, 1943. Codenamed “Operation Hawthorn, ” it would end in disaster. Compared to the SAS successful raids, there were several notable distinctions to be made. For one, while the SAS raids usually happened over the course of a week at most, with only one night seeing real combat, the SBS were expected to stay on the island for nearly a month, launching multiple consecutive raids and evading capture throughout. Secondly, whereas the SAS could always pull out early if things got too bullety, the SBS were trapped on an island swarming with enemy forces. Thirdly, the SAS were never sent into combat while suffering from Malaria. While L Squadrons medic had the medicine to treat this, he was unable to inform his patients what the medicine he was giving them was actually for since it had been decided that such information would damage morale. As a result, few took the prescription seriously and many men fell quite ill before the raid even began, including the medic himself. As if matters were not already bad enough, the SBS guide, a suspicious Italian expat by the name of Louis Tempanyro, was assigned as the squadrons guide. The commandos found him difficult to work with and doubted his loyalty, as he had been conscripted against both his and their will into the mission. Its no surprise that he disappeared only hours after the first group of commandos came ashore. Over the course of nearly a week the Italians slowly rounded up the commandos who didnt pass away from disease in the wilderness and loaded them into a truck bound for the Sassari jailhouse. Only one group had actually managed to do any damage, with the others who had even made it to their targets reporting that the Italian guards seemed all too prepared for an attack, with extra barbed wire, well-organized patrols, and large searchlights being deployed. All evidence pointed to someone sounding the alarm, and as if there were any question as to who had snitched Tempanyro eventually joined his imprisoned fellows following a lengthy stay at the Italian barracks. Jellicoe, who had suffered a car crash at around the time of the Operation, didnt find out about what exactly had happened until one man was returned to his unit over three months later. Having been left around the sick and drinking contaminated water from a stream, Sergeant Pat Scully managed to simultaneously contract malaria and dysentery during his stay in the Sardinian prison. Deemed unfit to be moved to a German prison alongside the other men, he spent the next two months hospitalized, only being moved via plane to Naples days before the Italian surrender. With the country collapsing around him, he managed to slip away unnoticed, eventually getting picked up by an American patrol and sent back to Jellicoe nearly a month later. While the few surviving members of L Squadron (those who had gotten too sick before the operation and were left behind in Algeria) were moved to S Squadron, the SBS was still down nearly a third of their number following just one operation. Losses like this simply werent sustainable and, had it not been for another simultaneous raid on Crete, the SBS may well have been entirely disbanded. If Sardinia was the bastion of the Luftwaffe in the west, Crete was their impenetrable fortress in the East. The men of S Squadron sent to the island of heroes would concoct a plan eerily similar to that of Operation Hawthorn, but under the veteran leadership of Captain Sutherland and without concern for an inconveniently timed outbreak of malaria, things were actually looking up for the men of S Squadron. Coming ashore on the night of June 23, 1943, B and C patrols made contact with the Cretan Resistance who would guide them to the Heraklion and Kastelli airfields, respectively. Four days later, D patrol climbed onto the rocky shore and began making their way to the Tymbaki airfield, which would turn out to be empty. While the going was rough, the SBS nevertheless made it to their targets in time to conduct a thorough reconnaissance. B Patrols guide, a resourceful Cretan teenager named Janni, volunteered to scout their airfield. When he returned, it was with the news that Heraklion had been abandoned, but that they had found a much more exciting target. A depot containing thousands of gallons of aircraft fuel was only a few miles west of their hideout. The night of the attack B patrol found the gas guarded by only a pair of Germans with dogs. Hoping to give the animals little cause for alarm, only one man entered the dump that night while the rest pulled overwatch. Following a close call when the two guards stopped to gossip only a few meters from him, the commando managed to successfully slip away unnoticed after planting his bombs. The fireworks that night were immense, as the flaming fuel from the dump ignited an undiscovered ammo cache hidden nearby, sending overcooked munitions off into the night sky. Meanwhile, C Patrol found the Kastelli airfield not only bustling with German activity, but far better defended than any airfield the commandos had ever seen. Not about to let their enemies win so easily though, Lassen, a frightful Danish man who many, himself included, saw as a modern example of the viking warrior spirit, ordered his patrol to commence with the attack. While he and another man went after a handful of Ju-88s on one side of the airfield, two more circled around to deal with a dozen heavily guarded stukas on the other. Upon setting their bombs, Lassen and his man heard a commotion coming from the other side of the airfield. Suspecting that their colleagues had been spotted, they moved in to check it out, and continued their sabotaging while the sentries were distracted. Unbeknownst to them however, another guard had stayed behind and attempted to stop the two strange men. Lassen, who was fluent in German, attempted to tell him off. The guard responded in Italian, and probably thinking something along the lines of “ Well, shit, ” Lassen whipped out his Smith & Wesson and fired. The shot rang out through the night, pulling the guards attention away from the other two men and back to the planes, where a pair of unknown strangers now stood over the body of their dead comrade. In the ensuing chaos, Lassen began throwing Mills bombs left and right to throw their pursuers off their tail. In no time, the Italians began to fire upon themselves and, in the mayhem, the commandos managed to slip away. The next day, as the SBS units moved to regroup, Elements of C and D Patrols were stopped by 25 islanders who wanted off the island. In retaliation for the attacks the preceding night, the Germans occupying the island had massacred an entire village and were threatening to kill more if those responsible were not turned in. S Squadron now found themselves in a precarious situation. They couldnt just send these men back to their deaths, but 25 extra bodies would strain their supply lines and put them at far greater risk of discovery. Eventually, Sutherland decided that he would have to radio Cairo for an early pick up just as their long-range radio died. Now scrambling in broad daylight to find a suitable replacement, it is nothing short of a miracle that no Axis patrols spotted them by the time they were able to hook up a pair of smaller batteries and send out the SOS. After a short wait, they got a reply back from Cairo. The ships were on their way, and would be arriving at midnight. Now scrambling for the beaches, Sutherland, his men, and the refugees made camp on a ridge overlooking the sea. Though an uneasy sense of dread hung in the air, the men of the SBS kept themselves in high spirits throughout the rest of the day, nearly missing the sound of Germans shouting somewhere very nearby. One cannot imagine the surprise the two patrolmen must have felt when suddenly, out of nowhere, a dozen heavily armed commandos burst from the rocks and ordered them to lay down their weapons. With the only other alternative being death, the Germans obliged. Since they had found only two, the Allies concluded that more must be out there. While the British were assembling a group to go out and track them down, the Cretans, who soon burst from their camp with great furor, beat them to the punch. Within the hour the sound of a firefight could be heard nearby. While the situation was undesirable, the SBS decided to hang back and hope that the wind would continue to conceal the commotion. As the sun went behind the horizon and the world fell to darkness however, the air became suddenly very still. Deciding that their current position was now inadvantageous, Sutherland moved his men, the remaining Greeks, and their prisoners down to the beaches. Setting their packs into two rows in the sand for a quick getaway, a small squadron of commandos were assembled and dispatched to go and retrieve their trigger-happy companions, and to keep the Germans pinned until they could evacuate. When the ships finally arrived however, the commander of the small relief force, an accomplished, if over-eager, soldier named Ken Lamonby, failed to return with the others. The men of S-Squadron were able to convince the boat to go back around and search for him, but Lamonbys fate would be sealed on that island. Unknown to the brothers who left him behind, Lamonby had been fatally wounded trying to take the Germans on up close. He passed away in a hospital near Heraklion some time later. Below Lassen (left) and Lamonby (right) can bee seen, possibly on Crete some time during their escape from the Germans. Their uniforms are fairly simple, consisting of Aertex desert shirts, knit wool “commando” caps, and (based on evidence from other photographs Ive seen but which I am unable to share) Pattern 1941 KD Shorts. They also have a handful of personal bits, either reminders of who they are or specialized bits of equipment to help them in their commandoing. Lassen wears a necklace of some manner and a set of P37 Webbing that he had customized to be little more than a belt of pistol ammo pouches (I know from aforementioned other photographs. Lamonby, meanwhile, sports his signature pipe and a scarf. He too appears to be wearing some manner of P37 webbing, and although I cannot infer how hes wearing it based on other photographs, it is clearly not in the basic style. Upon their return to friendly lines, it became apparent that S Squadron would not be allowed to rest for long. The developing situation in Italy and throughout the Mediterranean would call them back to arms, alongside M Squadron, in early September. While the Italian armistice had been signed on September 3, 1943, it was not made publicly known until the 8th, five days later. It was also on the 8th that a very surprised Jellicoe and a number of other British officers stationed in the Middle East were hastily summoned to Cairo to discuss how they would handle this sudden change of course. For many, this meant that they were being redeployed to more active fronts, but for Jellicoe this meant that his squadrons would once more be setting sail for the Greek Islands. The Italian occupied Dodecanese had long been of strategic interest for British High command, namely the main island of Rhodes, on which many commandos had already lost their lives. Nevertheless, a day after having been briefed Jellicoe and two other men parachuted onto Rhodes. They planned to make contact with the commander of Italian forces on the island and convince him to turn his 35, 000 strong garrison against the much smaller 7, 000 strong German garrison, effectively capturing the island overnight. To their dismay, the Italians surrendered to the Germans on Rhodes, turning what couldve been a quick and easy operation into a nearly three month long campaign. While the rest of the islands were quickly captured with minimal bloodshed by the SBS, the British were struggling to muster the manpower and equipment to capture Rhodes. Instead, the SBS, now reinforced by the LRDG, Greek Sacred Circle, and Levantine Schooner Flotilla, would have to pick up the slack and do everything they could to starve the German garrison into surrender. Disaster struck in early October when orders came down from Hitler himself that not only would Rhodes never surrender, but that the Wehrmacht would launch a full-scale invasion of the Dodecanese to rip them right back out of Allied control. Beginning with the invasion of Kos, Allied forces were caught totally off-guard. Sutherland watched the chaos enfold from his observation point on the neighboring Kalymnos and decided that he should send in a small unit of his own men to assess the situation. What they saw was grim. British forces on the island were confused and disorganized, and the Germans were now working to mop up what little resistance remained. Deciding to beat them to it, the group sent to Kos set about evacuating survivors. Working over the course of a week without boots and little more than the few clothes they were able to scrounge up to warm themselves in the cold, autumn, nights (they had attempted to escape the island themselves aboard makeshift rafts, but had been forced to swim back when they proved non-seaworthy, stripping unnecessary clothing as they went) they managed to save nearly a hundred lost, confused, and starving men. Below a pair of men who participated in the rescue operation on Kos can be seen. On the left is Dick “Jeff” Holmes, who led the operation. His outfit consists of a British Army Sweater, pair of Pattern 1941 KD Shorts, and what I believe to be a beret (the SBS wore beige berets with SAS badges throughout WW2) although it could just as easily be some sort of wool cap. Around his waist is a P37 webbing belt supporting a pistol holster for his prized Smith & Wesson revolver, a P37 Pistol ammo pouch, and some manner of other large pouch, possibly a P37 Utility Pouch that he might be using to carry extra ammunition for his Tommy Gun. The man on the right is Duggie Pomford, a former boxer turned commando (there seem to have been a lot of those…. Like Holmes, he wears an Army Sweater, however in place of the KD shorts more commonly worn in Greece he has instead acquired a nice, warm, pair of Battledress trousers. Around his neck he has a pair of binoculars and tucked beneath his arm is some sort of blanket. While he too has a P37 webbing belt, his appears much more sparsely adorned, as he is likely taking advantage of his trousers large leg pocket for carrying ammunition. The elephant in the room however, is their boots. Referred to by the commandos as “Canadian Boots, ” they seem to be some manner of duck boot, and were likely a private purchase of the two men. As this style of boot proved itself popular with the SBS thanks to its durable, waterproof, rubber bottom and flexible, easily worn, calf-length leather upper portion, there are many pictures of SBS commandos sporting them from the latter half of the war. With so little information available though, it is impossible for me to say for sure what these “Canadian Boots” actually were. Also, notice the bandage wrapped around Holmes' leg. hmm. Meanwhile on the island of Simi, 26 commandos, mostly from M Squadron, alongside roughly 140 Italians garrisoning the island and 40 RAF ground crewmen whom the SBS had “coaxed” into helping them were preparing to fight a bitter defense for the island. When the Germans did come ashore the 20mm Breda Autocannon that they had placed overlooking the bay began tearing into them, and while several of the attackers managed to penetrate further inland, reaching Simi Town, they were met by a bloodthirsty Lassen who began to viciously push them back to their boats. With the enemy routing, another group of the SBS set off in a boat of their own and chased down the unarmed German ships, pushing them right into view of a Bren Gun battery that they had set up the day previous. The machine guns riddled the wooden deck with bullets, killing and wounding many more men. The Allies victory was well-fought but would be just as equally short-lived. When the German officers in charge of the Dodecanese campaign found out about this humiliating defeat they came down hard with the Luftwaffe. Over the next several days stukas rained hell on the island, killing Allied soldiers and Greek civilians indiscriminately, ultimately forcing the Allies off of the island. A similar situation faced the men attempting to hold Leros, including most of S Squadron. Throughout the month of October, the island was indiscriminately bombed both day and night by the Luftwaffe. Following a brief moment of rest in the first week of November, the Germans once more resumed their attacks. With their efforts primarily focused on the coastal defences, it became evident that the German attack would be coming at any moment and, realizing the tenuous situation, Jellicoe (who had just arrived on the island alongside what remained of M Squadron to take charge of the situation) sent a handful of reliable men under the command of Lassen north to Samos. Their instructions were to begin preparations to pull Allied forces stationed there out in the event that Leros fell, as their position in the Dodecanese would no longer be salvageable at that point. Additionally, Sutherland was sent to contact the Royal Navy to arrange for an evacuation of Leros in the event that their defense failed. Finally, on the morning of November 12th the first German invaders began making their way onto the beaches under withering fire from the Allied guns. By that afternoon, the Allies lines held strong as dozens of Ju-52s filled the sky overhead. The commandos had proven their efficacy against the Wehrmachts regular infantry time and time again, but they had never faced a foe like the one that began embarking from those planes. These were no grunts, nor even elite fallschirmjägers. Instead, Hitler had sent none other than his finest soldiers to do battle with the British commandos. Nearly 500 Brandenburgers descended onto the island that day and, if they were anything like what was claimed, the battle was already lost to the Allies. Over the next few days, the Germans and Allies clashed in a vicious tug-of-war over the rocky slopes of the island. While the initial surprise of the airborne attack had allowed the Germans to secure the central region, cutting the Allied force in two, subsequent attempts to land troops by parachute proved disastrous. Not only were Allied forced ready and picked them apart with an onslaught of machine-gun fire, but a strong wind blew many off course and into the sides of cliffs, houses, or into the water where they drowned. By the 15th it looked like the Allies might be able to actually push back the Germans, but the following day everything changed. Unbeknownst to nearly all Allied forces on the island, a squad of Brandenburgers had managed to slip through their lines and set a course straight for Robert Tilney, the commander of all Allied Forces on Leros. To ensure that this bold play went undiscovered, the Luftwaffe was called in once more and, on the morning of November 16th, they forced the Allies back on the defensive. The Germans began to slowly but surely take ground, and when the Brandenburgers informed Tilney of this situation, at gunpoint, he was persuaded to capitulate. When Jellicoe found out about this betrayal, he was furious and rounded up whatever British forces he could to make a mad dash for a Royal Navy motor transport that he had arranged to evacuate them. The fall of Leros and the subsequent abandonment of Samos marked the official end of the short-lived Dodecanese campaign, but not for the SBS. As the winter of 1943 gave way to the spring of 1944, The Germans found themselves being boxed in on all sides. In the East, the Red Army was battering a crumbling Wehrmacht out of their land and into the old killing grounds of Poland and the Baltics. Looking south, the combined might of the Western Allies had finally broken the stalemate at Monte Cassino and forced the Italians to surrender. In the skies over Western Europe, Allied bombers struck at the very heart of Germany, killing thousands. Most importantly of all, a force was assembling and training to undertake the greatest amphibious invasion the world had ever seen just across the English channel, with D-Day only six months away. The only front on which Germany seemed to have made any gains was in the Aegean, but the SBS wasnt about to let them take that win so easily. Under orders to undertake a clandestine naval campaign, the purpose of which was to force the Germans into wasting resources that could be used on more important fronts, the SBS began a long series of raids and attacks that many within their ranks bluntly described as “Piracy” and “Terrorism. ” From Stampalia to Piscopi the SBS made the Germans pay dearly for their occupation of the Greek islands. For nearly 4 months their reign of terror went practically unopposed until, in late March, they attempted to launch a raid against the islands of Chalki and Alimia, just north of Rhodes. A German spy in Turkey had gotten word of the SBS plans to attack the islands and forwarded this information to the commander of the German forces on Rhodes. As soon as the commandos had set foot on Alimia they were rounded up, arrested, and sent to be interrogated before ultimately being handed over to the SS for “liquidation. ” The SBS luck hadnt totally run out though, as even though many of their secrets were spilled, the Germans foolishly broadcast what they had learned over public propaganda channels, giving their enemies a chance to adapt before they could even use the information that they had gained. While this ultimately saved many lives, all commandos understood that to be captured meant death, and the execution of good men and friends could not go unpunished. When the SBS struck next, it would be for blood. In late April, 1944, S Squadron was given to go ahead to expand their area of operations to include the Cyclades, an archipelago before-now untouched by British forces. To announce this new theatre and ensure that the Germans got the message, Sutherland devised a plan to launch 3 simultaneous attacks on Santorini, Ios, and Mykonos. In addition to their standard orders to destroy German shipping and communication infrastructure, a third objective was also given: To eliminate any enemy targets as opportunity provides. On Santorini, Lassen and his men led a direct assault on the barracks, slaughtering the Germans as they slept while a small handful of his men destroyed the wireless station further inland. On Mykonos, the SBS discovered that the garrison comprised only nine men, all of whom were either killed or captured in a single night. Finally, the group sent to Ios eliminated the garrison there and destroyed German communications equipment and an ammo dump before moving on to Amorgos. There they killed the lieutenant in charge of the island who had sent his entire garrison to Santorini to hunt for an already long-gone Lassen. Realizing the golden opportunity they had, the raiders on Amorgos set up an ambush for the returning Germans, killing all but two of the ten that arrived. Throughout the month of May, lightning raids with the goal of spreading terror through the German ranks such as these continued, ultimately eliminating 15 enemy ships, 17 communications centers, untold dozens of enemy soldiers, and capturing 25 tons of food from the Germans, most of which was redistributed to the starving civilian populace of the islands. As the SBS had taken to growing out their beards and wearing strange clothes such as German Field Caps and Special Hooded Smocks, an American reporter given the chance to visit their headquarters at this time could not help but make the comparison between them and Robin Hood. For the Germans however, the bloodthirsty bearded devils that came in the night had transformed the Aegean from a nice, peaceful, even beautiful post where embattled units recovering from the horrors of the Eastern Front could be sent for much needed R&R to a whole new flavor of hell. Although S Squadron would eventually be pulled back to Palestine, ending their month of chaos, M-Squadron would pick up where they left off. Below a handful of men from S Squadron can be seen aboard one of their “Pirate Ships. ” Andy Lassen again makes an appearance (top right) but also of note is Stefan Casulli (bottom left) who was one of only two Allied soldiers that died during the Cyclades raids. The men of the SBS wore a wide variety of clothing by this point, with the photo below serving as an excellent example of this. The commandos wore anything from the typical Aertex shirts and P1941 shorts to early pattern British Army sweaters and sometimes even just their underwear (Aegean summers are hot. The aforementioned “Canadian Boots” were still a popular choice in this theatre, however some men (like Lassen below) also grew fond of South African pattern boots, which were lighter and more comfortable in the Mediterranean heat. Finally, additional equipment such as commando caps, berets, binoculars, and P37 belts for carrying sidearms were all common. Knowing that the Germans had reinforced their garrisons in the southern Archipelagos, M Squadron instead attempted to shift their focus north to the Sporades. Discovering these islands to be a poor hunting ground though, the SBS once more set a course for the Dodecanese. Here, they would conduct the largest special operations raid the world had yet seen. Working alongside men from the Royal Marines Boom Patrol Detachment in early July, the SBS used their signature kayaks to silently come up alongside a pair of German destroyers, plant limpet mines, and stealthily make their escape. With the resulting explosions forcing them back to Italy for repairs, the way was now clear. 10 caiques and a pair of schooners collectively carrying 220 SBS, LRDG, Sacred Circle, SAS, and LSF raiders set sail for the island of Symi. Coming ashore in the early hours of July 14, the Allies set up mortar and machine-gun positions overlooking the German defenses that had been reconnoitered by a small force of SBS commandos a few days prior. When the sun first began to rise in the sky, the SBS opened fire on the unsuspecting Germans. Within the first hour of fighting the commandos swept through Symi town, capturing a large number of Germans. Meanwhile, two other forces had moved to capture the islands two major landmarks, which the Germans were using to house their men. While the monastery force were able to drive their quarries to the edge of a cliff and force a surrender, those sent to the castle faced a far more determined foe. Locked in a stalemate for several hours, the commander of the fort was eventually compelled to parley, and ultimately surrender. Having taken prisoner 151 Germans and killed another 21, the British spent the remainder of the day demolishing anything and everything that the next garrison might use before disappearing back over the waves, prisoners in tow. The next day a German invasion force was sent in to re-take the island, only to find it totally abandoned save 21 dead men. The Symi raid, sometimes called Operation Tenement, was a resounding success for the Allied forces, but it was also the SBS last operation in the Aegean, as well as where we will have to end todays installment of Tommy Tuesday. While I would love to go into further detail about the SBS' exploits in the Balkans and beyond, I'm afraid that to do so would require me to double the length of this already incredibly long installment. Fret not though, as I am sure that we will revisit this unit again some day, even if only to tell those stories. Now, it is time for us to imagine what, in an ideal world in which DICE actually tried to give the British Faction British cosmetics, the Blockade Runner might actually look like. As with all pre-order bonus sets, I will be leaning a bit more into the tacticool side of things, though with this set I will be going for more light-weight, stealthy, and fast sort of aesthetic. Starting with the head, while it is tempting to go with something like a German Tropical Field Cap since the SBS took a liking to these, a more balanced option that I think would be just as well, and also help to point to their theater of operations, would be a Greek fisherman's hat with an (admittedly slightly anachronistic) SBS Patch. Moving on to the torso, a British Army V-Neck sweater, worn without the typically accompanying undershirt forms a nice base layer onto which a P37 Webbing belt covered in Pistol Ammunition Pouches and a holster for a Smith & Wesson style revolver should be worn. For further detailing, the sleeves should be rolled and a British Officer's Watch should be worn around one wrist. Finally, a scrim-scarf, nicely tied and tucked under the sweater, completes the look. Finally, for the legs, as a nice nod to the legend of Roger Courtney's raid on the HMS Glengyle, a pair of Royal Navy Officer's trousers should be worn with a pair of " Canadian Boots. Both as a nod to the actual set as well as to protect the hem of the nice Officer's pants from damage, a sort of improvised puttee, looking suspiciously like a bandage wrapped around the top of each boot into which the trousers are tucked, should be worn. And with that, I end this Tommy Tuesday. Next time, we'll be looking at Sandman, Desert Rat, and Dust Raider. I don't think it takes a genius to see what I'm planning with these, but regardless, I look forward to seeing you all next time, whenever that may be. If you just read all of this and arent sure whats going on but want to learn more, this is part of a weekly series in which I breakdown various British uniforms used throughout WW2 in the hopes that it will raise awareness of just how varied authentic British cosmetics could actually be and to (optimistically) get DICE to actually give the British faction real British Uniforms. This is because, despite the voices, flag, and vehicles of the current allied faction all being British, the actual cosmetic options available to this “British” faction are anything but. The British as they currently appear in game are just Americans with Brodie Helmets and London accents, and until DICE adds actual British cosmetics, that is all they can ever be. For people like me who were excited to see a modern battlefield take on WW2 and to be immersed in this setting in a way that only the Battlefield series allows, BFV has been a massive disappointment. This is only one small part of that problem, but its the one that I feel most qualified to talk about, and I sincerely hope that you enjoy this series and maybe even learn something from it as time goes on. If you would like to know more, a list of previous Tommy Tuesdays can be found in the comments below.

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