by Dark Knight
Infuriated, yet helpless to do anything else but skulk back to his chambers, the Star Diamond cartel boss ordered his enforcers to secure Boris and Kera. Before that captain Anit’za had taken possession of his new “property”, waved the narcos goodbye and shoved the confused group of slaves out of the auctioning area.
Lilly had received the link he sent earlier and replied to him reporting her combat readiness. Mines were placed outside securing their Exfil, bobby traps set on all possible troop paths and doors secured. The bunny, her tactical backpack now almost empty of explosive ordinance was lurking in the shadows of side corridors and service tunnels, finger on the trigger and ready to attack. Noticing the received message, Anit’za looked at the holo-data projected on his faceplate, smirked and sent another follow up command:
“Hoist the flag!”
Chapter 11
No escape
One container full of munitions silently resting on a grav-platform and waiting to be loaded, suddenly moved by itself. The remotely controlled docking equipment had sometimes the tendency to twitch as engineers called it. Nothing serious, really. Just a feet or two in the wrong direction, bumping harmlessly off a wall or another crate scraping paint and that was usually the end of it.
Not this time though. The container was full of cluster bombs destined for some taz’aran troop supply ship waiting in line outside the station proper. Those munitions never got delivered because they instead detonated all over the hangar floor. Hundreds of bombs flew up in all directions using their short range engines, some of them exploding seconds later and precisely where other crates, also full of munitions were located. The havoc it wreaked was incredible, because the cluster bombs were designed to spread their payloads of hundreds of small fragmentation mines as far and wide as they possibly could.
Simultaneously one small, shadowy vessel, moved from the cover of idling drone tug boats, who were waiting to grab cargo containers and load them to other starships too big to enter the base themselves.
Nobody had noticed the craft until now.
Noiseless and all but invisible to the inner hangar sensors, this vessel launched another similarly dark, cylindrically shaped pod, its trajectory aimed at the deeper parts of Pion base.
Another container exploded and the hangar floors were now engulfed by a torrent of spreading chemical fires, which caused more and more munition crates to detonate, increasing the scope of the disastrous accident. Confused, the taz’arans on shift sent their contingent of heavily armed star troopers to recon what that vehicle was doing there. Somehow every sensor they had was inoperable; the link to their central command didn’t function properly, and all that on top of the already blaring fire alarms and drones swarming half the deck, shooting stasis blobs in a desperate, losing fight with the expanding, raging firestorm.
Troopers investigating were met with a devastating hail of railgun fire that all but completely ravaged their numbers. As the slick craft smashed throughout what was left of their ranks,it launched a barrage of missiles that blasted the row of patrol starfighters idling nearby. It moved with a speed that only a GAV could, and from what the shaken onlookers observed, much faster than any mass produced, stock model. Its dark, folded set of segmented wings spread their whole length, both of them revealing more missile launchers clustered underneath, and the protruding length of two long laser cannons on their tips.
Instead of activating, the hangar defenses stood silent. Again and again the dispatchers entered attack commands that their turrets simply refused to obey. Soon the whole hangar was turned into hell; a burning nightmare of constantly exploding ordinance, the flames of a chemical inferno and laser fire that only a lucky few managed to survive by running away. The terrifying GAV craft was so over-equipped with weapons, fast, and its pilot proficient in using the powerful grav-drives, that the shock of its presence was absolute. Somebody managed to reach and jump into the cockpit of a space mecha, one that was being serviced at the back of the hangar. Grav-engines screaming and with laser cannons unleashing bouts of blistering hot blue beams, the craft melted everything in its path. Any dreams the rapidly melting hangar crew had of heroic defiance suddenly evaporated after the GAV’s laser fire blew apart the mech too. Their last hope blasted away to pieces, what crewmen were left alive panicked, darting in all directions their only wish was to get as far away as possible from this monstrous craft.
The multiple mag-launched bunker buster bombs that the craft dropped blew a gaping hole leading into Pion base’s main promenade area. The GAV swooped inside, its segmented wings folding for a second and then extended again to the horror of those who observed its dark, ominous shape.
Its wings switched their angle, nose twisted down. The rotating dual turret underneath it swirled into action swiveling around, tracking those groups of pirates who were yet armed and ready to resist. Thousands of 20mm railgun projectiles smashed through the thin atmosphere of the promenade, exploding and ripping apart its hull, with pirate and taz’aran alike instantly turned into bloody mist. When the barrels started glowing its pilot again changed the angle of his craft’s wings. It was as if the front end of that GAV had formed a wide open beak and out from it a weapon far worse than one spewing hail of railgun projectiles, had emerged.
A red hot cone of mazer rays blasted the area with intense flesh melting radiation. Those who ran towards the craft weapons ready now bolted back screaming, flesh burning and falling off from their splintering bones. Every semblance of organized resistance instantly crumbled, and as the GAV boomed forward flying deeper into the base it fired its mazer weapon again. And again. Those who had somehow managed to survive this onslaught, later remembered hearing a terrible shriek when the craft flew past them, radiation burning everyone to death.
The GAV then lowered it landing struts, again changing its wing configuration. Their span widened and the legs which, from a certain range resembled predatory claws, hummed in a high frequency. Grav-engines screaming ahead and flying close to the bulkheads, the craft speedily tore both through the floor-plating and anyone who was still running about. The landing gear of this monstrosity was equipped with large vibro blades!
The silence of the dead soon fell upon the promenade and that GAV slowly flew back toward the hole it had made for itself, wing changing their configuration on the move. Gracefully, like a giant bird with its jet black wings and claws bathed in blood, the GAV squeezed through the blasted and still smoldering bulkheads, returning back to the base’s main hangar bay.
Underneath its nose the rotary 20mm railgun barrels protruded out again. The weapons had plenty of time to cool down and while the craft flew sideways grav-engines shrieking, its twin barrels unleashed hell once more...
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“Those who think that invading pirate bases with only but a token force is easy, need to have their heads examined!” – The Push’va star boss boasted, while he and his party of thirty star warriors were riding the freight elevator down to Pion base’s hangar. A nervous chuckle filled the confined space as weapon safeties were being switched off. The elevator stopped and its large armored doors quickly opened, allowing the Push’va to run into a hellish, burning nightmare. At least this part of the hangar wasn’t engulfed with flame, as those cluster munitions had conveniently spared it. There was a clan dropship nearby, parked on one of the service pads and they all rushed towards it. The craft bore Aleska colors and next to it a couple of captured Terran freight containers lay unloaded. Push’va warriors took cover behind them, aiming what heavy weapons they had at that ominous looking GAV craft. If only they’d arrived a couple minutes earlier they could’ve used any of the idle starfighters. That is, before the GAV ripped them apart with its laser cannons.
“Quickly warriors, take control of the dropship and spool its drive! We shall need every weapon to defeat that suicidal pilot.”
Pirates leaning against one of the largest crates suddenly heard
a rumble coming from inside of it. One of them raised his rifle, using its integrated scanner to study the disturbance. He blinked, confused. His scanning rays were being engulfed and deflected by something inside of the crate or part of its walls, though the Push’va warrior had no time to warn his boss about the find he had just made. The crate flew apart in all directions and in the center of it rose up fifteen feet tall, large humanoid, fists clenched and body locked in a martial arts stance. The giant turned with a speed most unbelievable for his size, fists flying just as quick, if not faster than his legs. The closest pirate could only scream in shock “Asgardian!” before his upper torso exploded hit by the giant’s large fist.
“Take him down! Focus fire warriors, don’t engage him in melee!” – immediately ordered their boss. The Push’va were not cowards and their boss wasn’t stupid either. And so they tried doing what anyone facing an Asgardian in battle would; pull back and shoot the giant with every anti-vehicle heavy weapon that they had on hand.
Easier said than done. This giant was different – faster, and much more agile than his kin, the Asgardian’s fists pummeled a dozen of Push’va warriors dead in but a minute, before the rest could gain the range on him. They were just about to shower his towering body with a hail of particle beams and rockets, when another big crate blew apart from the inside behind them revealing an enemy that the Push’va screamed in horror after just seeing.
The Kil’ra stood up sword and shield in hand. Encased in a gray, heavily-armored exoskeleton that bore the Terran morale corps crest, with his signature dark blue cape flowing behind, this morale officer had his thick pauldrons covered by shining battle honors. Signs included Carrola, Semoa and a few others more that the Push’va have never heard of, yet that meant little to their shaken minds because the elder alien looked enraged. First standing in the Kil’ra’s path was their star boss, who quickly fired his particle-beam rifle at him. The pirate was experienced and his shots hit the morale officer a couple of times, yet this did not achieve much. Each time the Kil’ra raised his shield and blocked his attacks, the powerful beams leaving but tiny scratches on its reinforced surface. Seconds later, the boss’s torso was crushed and legs chopped off sending them in two opposite directions, while the warrior’s powerful voice thundered in their ears:
“Enslavers, the hour of your Doom is at hand!”
His sword plowed through their quivering bodies with ease, the Kil’ra’s mighty strength enhanced manyfold by the exoskeleton, his shield crushing another pirate, effortlessly sending the mangled body flying high in the air.
“Justice for all the futures you stole! Vengeance for all the families you destroyed!”
In an instant the morale officer charged toward his Asgardian ally, combat form flowing and perfect, his motions lightning fast, all strikes connecting. He swirled both shield and sword crushing, slashing and stabbing all who were in his weapons range. Everything around him turned into a bloody mist, mangled pieces of armored spacesuits and sliced, battered pirate bodies who soon littered the floor-plating. And as he moved swiftly, his weapons never resting for a second, the terrifying morale officer left a gory trail of mutilated bodies behind. Not minding that some of the near death survivors’ severed limbs were still twitching, the Kil’ra disregarded their dying, painful moans and relentlessly pushed, delivering an ever increasing amount of righteous punishment to their clanmates.
“Remember the Terrans’ promise! For I am that Death which has long followed in your cowardly steps, and there is no mercy in my heart!”
The Push’va feared two things the most, and that warrior represented both of them combined, augmented, and evidently trained to near perfection. A merciless warrior that brought certain death, the Kil’ra were a horror from their old legends. Those who met them in battle rarely escaped with their lives, worse yet, that warrior was also a Terran morale officer. Their entire organization was sworn to end each and everyone of their clansmates’ lives. Every Push’va family had lost someone during that disastrous raid years ago and most of them naively dreamt of invading Earth again, this time finishing off the upstart humans for good. Instead, it was the Terrans themselves who came to their doorstep, and they’d brought all of their mightiest allies with them.
Through screams and distant explosions, the butchered, dying Push’va boss heard one of the station commander’s voice in his comms:
“Sending reinforcements at once! All power armor pilots are to immediately man their mechs!” – his waning sight glimpsed the giant’s boot before it plastered his face into the floor-plating.
The pirates retreated toward the elevator and shot back, alas, the Asgardian soon returned the favor. Unlocking one long rail-rifle from his back, he calmly attached a bayonet under its muzzle first and then began picking the Push’va warriors off one by one. He walked tall, not taking cover, not stopping to aim precisely even; his entire demeanor radiated “Look, a shooting range with moving targets, this will be fun!” and the Asgardian certainly acted so. The Kil’ra was using his shield to protect him, and sword to butcher anyone who was yet left alive and dared attacking his ally. From the freight elevator spilled yet another group of Push’va Clan warriors and since this time they were supported by a squad of Aleska power armors, and assuming that they had the upper hand the pirates foolhardily charged forward.
Only to be attacked from behind.
Powerful blue laser beam sliced through one of the PA’s back armor plating killing the pilot instantly, his now pilot-less falling machine, crushed another pirate who was using its legs for cover. The confused and panicked warriors darted to all sides looking for the shooter, while another of their PAs’ fell, its leg blown off by an accurate shot from the Asgardian’s rifle. A diminutive assailant scurried past them, took cover behind the nearest crates and then another beam sliced two of the Push’va warriors. Their suits’ power cores exploded and the expanding plasma fireball melted three pirates who were taking cover next to them. This small shooter began darting from crate to crate using his grappling hook and cable to give himself an extra boost. While the small body of their new enemy was being dragged by his grappler, he swiped wide arcs with his laser and more pirates fell sliced, burning to death on the floor. Between this new attacker, the Asgardian and the Kil’ra, who was now using a snub railgun to shower them with accurate automatic fire the Push’va’s rapidly melting reinforcements immediately called for more... reinforcements.
Most of them were pinned down and only their PA’s, whose armor was resistant to small arms fire continued fighting and yet the pirates’ impedance did not last long. On their audio sensors they heard the morale officer’s commanding voice inspiring his allies:
“Forward star blood! Our enemies are but a strike away from being punished for their many, heinous crimes. None shall escape to subjugate another innocent!”
On their left flank the Push’va suddenly heard very happy, almost jubilant chuckling and from behind his cover jumped out their diminutive flanker. The space hamster was mag-locking a laser rifle behind his back, that was unnaturally large for his small size , while simultaneously pulling another gun, a big pistol that he held like a snub gun. Completely disregarding a couple of inaccurate nervous shots aimed at him, the rodent, abominable in the eyes of the Push’va, calmly strolled into their very midst. He moved in an almost straight line, pumping the backs of their brothers and sisters who were now completely unprotected, full of automatic railgun fire. And while his other allies were charging directly at them, running at their best speed, the hamster walked. He also shoot dead the wounded slavers who were desperately crawling away towards the elevator, casually, and in their heads. Those unlucky enough to be close by heard him casually counting from behind his faceplate after each pirate killed. Not surprisingly that was too much even for the seasoned slavers. Somebody finally snapped, and horrified screamed the dreaded words that no enemy of the Terran Minarchy wanted to hear:
“They’ve come!The Tiny Feet of Doom are here!�
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Push’va could no longer hold their battle line after the Asgardian had smashed into it. Followed seconds later by the Kil’ra morale officer, both crushed what was left of their strongest warriors. Sword, shield, bayonet, laser or fists – the clanners had truly faced the deadliest of their foes today. Despite any and all form of desperate resistance, their spirits were broken like a bundle of dry twigs by the Terran morale officer’s mere presence, and the fact that he was a Kil’ra warrior made things even worse. The vaunted viciousness of Push’va slavers couldn’t stand up against their tiny ally either; the space hamster was as relentless as he was fearless. Just like his kin, this abominable rodent mercilessly wiped out everyone in his sight, laughing as he did so. Oh, the pirates had a fighting chance, yes. Had their enemy had acted careless, had not used proper tactics and concentrated firepower, the Push’va clanners would’ve been more than capable of murdering their adversaries. Yet the combination of their enemies morale breaking presence and skillfully implemented strategy meant that all the clanner efforts were for naught. The fight instantly degenerated into small isolated brawls, where only the few operational power armors were able to survive long enough and shoot accurately back. They did hit their enemies, all Terrans were now wounded in various degrees, even the dreaded hamster who, despite all the pain its small body probably felt, continuously told horrid jokes over the Push’va now hacked comms. It was something about their taz’aran allies irresistibly craving hamster droppings, and the disturbing fact that they couldn’t understand what he was alluding at made the verbal abuse even more nerve wracking.
