With the skill of a practiced EVA specialist, Blazer grabbed the ascent line as he drifted past in the zero-G craft. Wrapping his hand around the line’s grip, he thumbed the down control. The handle jerked him down into the cavernous main bay of the central fuselage, reminding him of his almost carefree time as a buoy boy. He turned back to look at the AT-APT. The rest of the team waited within, where its armored shell was proof against small arms fire and even some larger weapons.
He came to a landing beside the transport where it sat clamped to the deck, its degrav generators cold. The magnetic locks in the boots of his ACHES secured him to the deck, and he marched around the nose of the vehicle. He signaled Arion in the driver’s seat to spin up the main generator.
His face unreadable through the helmet of his ACHES, Arion signaled ready over the link, a blue light winking on in Blazer’s HUD. A moment later, the AT-APTs engine whined to life.
Reaching the side hatch, he climbed inside and looked at the others. Clad in their almost identical ACHES, only the UV tags on their suits identified them to each other. The hard lock harnesses kept them secure as the first buffets of atmosphere licked the dropship’s hull. Blazer slipped into his seat, pulling the harness closed before checking that his rifle was secure, and addressed the others. “Mark eight pulses to touch down. Arion, gun it as soon as we’re dirtside.”
Nasha-3, Insertion Point
The G-forces pushed Blazer into his seat as the dropship pulled out of its insertion dive over two hundred kilometra south of their objective. Flying over the land like some great beast of legend, they avoided local farms and populated areas and brought the ship in for a landing behind a massive rock outcropping. With its outrigger pods lowered, the great ship settled above the ground, and the floor of the main bay descended, with the AT-APT resting on it. Before the platform touched ground, the AT-APT jumped free of the dropship and raced away like an animal escaping the clutches of a predator. Gavit lifted the dropship and raced away, the massive tri-hulled ship diving into a low valley to evade detection until getting a pickup signal.
Arion weaved the AT-APT through the low rolling hills, keeping the craft on grassy banks where possible to avoid kicking up dust.
“We’ll meet you at the rendezvous point. Don’t keep us waiting too long,” Acknit linked in from the dropship.
“Keep the engines warm. You know me, I never leave a party without a little heat,” Arion replied, dropping his hand for a moment to pat Big Red, the custom heavy plaser he and Gokhead built from his old Dagger’s C-8 Plaser cannon, a smile on his lips.
Blazer suppressed an urge to chew out his driver for joking with the dropship. They couldn’t afford to lose focus. Their injury and casualty rate had been too high in their last few missions. “Keep focused, people,” was all he allowed himself to say before he activated the holo-projector in the ceiling and the image of their objective snapped to life amongst them.
“Just like we briefed. We should reach Paris Base in a little over a hect. Intel reports that its offensive systems are lacking, relying on the airbase five hundred klicks to the east for air support. Its defenses are nothing to take lightly, but they’re focused on a large scale assault scenario. A small team like ours should get in and out relatively undetected.”
Chris snorted. Intel had never been accurate enough. Their last three ops were proof of that. Though her armor didn’t show signs of it, she fingered her chest where a mass driver round had punched through and killed her during their last mission.
Blazer ignored Chris’ protest. “We won’t be using the front door. The prison complex is located here.”
In the hologram, a small structure built into the wall of the castle-styled fortress lit up.
Blazer pushed aside a part of the image to reveal a ravine the castle overlooked and a sewage pipe emptying into the stream. “This is our way in. Arion, Bichard, and Matt will hole up here as backup in case we need it, or to get us out of here if we don’t. Our other two fire teams will then infiltrate the facility, any questions?”
No one responded.
“Good.”
A little over a hect later, Blazer examined the map with a curious eye as Arion parked the AT-APT halfway up a hill overlooking the ravine, where it would be hidden from the castle above. Blazer checked readings on Arion’s screen, noting the contaminant levels in the water. Disgusting, how can a civilization as advanced as this tolerate such indiscriminate pollution? “Bichard, launch the drone and see if the intel reports were off.”
Bichard clicked his mandibles and complied. Pulling a small control console from its cradle, he activated the surveillance drones. A hatch on the back of the AT-APT opened, and a cluster of tiny insectoid robots sprang free, gossamer wings carrying them across the hill toward the ravine. Bichard guided them with ease through the special input helmet that transmitted each insect’s findings to a different facet of his giant eyes. The irony of him controlling robotic flying insects did not escape Blazer or the rest of the team.
Each of the insects carried one of a slew of different surveillance systems. The swarm acted in concert to relay their data and give the team the most complete picture possible. Blazer fingered the sensor array in the face of his ACHES, the composite image they generated taking him a moment to adjust to. As they cleared the hill, Bichard jerked, mandibles clattering in surprise.
Chris pulled open the secondary console in response. “What’s the matter?”
“Intel was off about base defenses. I’m reading two heavy plasers on each castle tower. On the plus side, the sewage tunnel has only two automated anti-personnel guns that I can detect. The rest of the area is clear.”
Blazer nodded and turned towards Matt. “Close enough. Matt, take those two down by the stream out quickly. Arion, get us down there as soon as he’s finished.”
Neither man spoke but only grunted in reply, as Matt freed himself of his seat and grabbed his sniper rifle before heading to the hatch. Blazer looked over the data again and paid particular attention to the orbital logs. The last thing we need is another corvette in orbit above us, like the last time.
Nasha-3, Paris base, Detention Center
If anyone had asked Chris an annura before if she would be uncomfortable with this, she would have said no. Her body and its appearance had always been one of her most potent weapons. But in the wake of their interrogation training, she had to admit that she wasn’t as comfortable revealing herself to others. Even during PT exercises, she found herself wearing modest clothes.
But now, stripped of her armor, she wore only a strength-enhancing, form-fitting body glove. She had opened the front to the point that her breasts almost fell out and strode into the detention center with an innocent look on her face. She approached the guard at his control desk. “Excuse me, I think I’m lost.”
The guard didn’t even look up. “This is a restricted area, no civilians allowed.”
Chris worked to keep the smile on her face as genuine as possible when the man refused to look up at her. She used her most seductive voice and pushed her breasts forward as she reached the console. “Please, sir, if you can tell me how to get back to the main square, I would be forever in your debt.”
The man looked up and, on seeing her bare flesh, met her eyes and grinned.
Chris clasped one hand around the other behind her back. It was all she could do to keep from opening the man’s throat with her hold-out knife. He was a dead ringer for the guard who had molested her during interrogation training. She almost lost her composure. It can’t be him. His eyes and hair are a different color, and his nose doesn’t have that crooked bump. She smiled again. “If you help me, I’ll do anything you want.” The words disgusted her.
The man looked at her, grinning. His arousal disgusted her, but she hid that fact the best she could. “What can I do for you?”
She smiled. Pushing her chest out even more, she slid her knife stealthily from behind her back. “Well, I’m looking for Berelis Nact. Can y
ou tell me what cell he’s in?”
“How do you know about that thing?”
That’s all I need to hear. Chris’s answer was short and to the point as she slashed the man’s throat wide open.
His hands flew to his throat in a vain attempt to halt the flow as he fell back spluttering and gurgling blood. He never had a chance to raise an alarm, and with no other guards patrolling this low priority prison area, it now belonged to the Blade Force.
Chris stepped around the console to look down at the man and the growing pool of blood. He looked even more like the guard from interrogation training now and she kicked him in the head, caving in the side of his skull.
Zithe walked in behind her, her armor draped across his arms. “Nice work.”
She turned to face him, zipping her body glove back up. “Just give me my armor.”
***
Blazer and the rest of the insertion fire teams stormed the area a moment later. He gave an appreciative smile at the scene as Gokhead rushed towards the console. Damn, she’s good.
Chris held up a hand to stop Blazer. “Don’t ever make me do that again.”
She did her job, what’s her problem? “It seems to have done the job effectively.”
She looked back up at him as she slipped back on her leg armor. “Just don’t ask me to do it again.”
Blazer pushed past her towards the console. “I’ll think about it.”
He caught the look of disdain on Chris’ face before she pulled her helmet back on, closing off her face to him. What does it matter if she didn’t like my orders? We got the job done. On a mission, they had to be as cold and calculating as Tadeh Qudas. Their success record in their last few missions should be proof enough that emotions had to wait until after the mission.
Blazer approached Gokhead as he busied himself at the console. Gokhead continued his search through the system’s database; speed was of the essence now. The next guard shift would arrive soon, and the previous shift outside the prison block lay dead in a maintenance closet only a hundred metra away.
“We have a problem,” Gokhead announced.
“What kind of problem?”
“It’s not just Berelius Nact here.”
Blazer looked over his shoulder. Gokhead was right. There were another fifty prisoners crowding the cells. He recognized many of the family names as Anulian, Drashig, Otlian, and more. Blazer straightened, regarding the others as they waited. Zithe, Rudjick and Chris assumed positions about the entrance, in case the next guard shift arrived early. Marda stood by the console with him and Gokhead, looking at the list as well. “That’s a lot of our soldiers, so what are we thinking?” she asked.
Blazer glared at the screen. “I’m thinking we only brought two thermal masks for Berelius and anyone else in his cell.”
Marda looked back at him. “So what do we do?”
Blazer turned towards the cells, then back at her, and pulled up his arm to activate a holographic display above it. The image would be invisible to outside observers, projected in a frequency only their ACHES’ visors would translate. He pulled up the mission objectives and read through the orders. There was nothing concerning other prisoners at all. Blazer regarded Gokhead. “Weapons locker?”
Gokhead nodded and pointed over his shoulder towards a row of cabinets in the wall. “Right there, why?”
It was decision time. Blazer swallowed hard. “We’re going to get them all out of here.”
Zithe moved to protest, but Blazer flashed a hold light to him over the link, stopping him.
“There are fifty more soldiers in there; capable soldiers. We’re not going to just leave them. Give them your backup weapons. Rudjick, distribute the weapons in the locker, then get ready to move out.”
“What’s your plan?” Zithe asked. “We’ll never get them through the sewer.”
“I know. That’s why we’re taking them out through the courtyard.”
Everyone looked at him, dumbfounded. The courtyard was a fortress, impenetrable to the dropship thanks to heavy turrets on the towers.
Blazer waved them off. “Drop, this is Lead.”
“Drop, go ahead, Lead,” Gavit replied.
“Prepare for immediate dust off. There’s been a change of plans.”
“Copy that Lead. What’s your status?”
“You’re going to come and pick us up.”
“Say again, Blazer?”
“Link Discipline!” he scolded Gavit. “Don’t worry. The defensive situation will be resolved before you arrive.” He cut the link to the dropship, then called Arion. “Bear, Lead,” he called.
“Go ahead, Lead.”
“Prepare to storm the castle.”
“Copy that.”
Blazer drew up a new battle plan on his arm display and forwarded it to the rest of the squad. “This is our new plan. The situation has changed and we need to flow with it.” His failure to flow with changes in the last few missions had cost them. The soldiers in those cells, however, should give them a fighting chance he felt he had to take.
Blazer took a deep breath and turned to Gokhead as he watched Rudjick pull out the last of the guns from the weapons locker and lay them on the table next to the guards’ console. “Open the cells.”
Gokhead nodded. A moment later, the cell doors swung open. Several of the captured soldiers rushed out, but stopped upon recognizing the Blade Force’s ACHES.
Rudjick motioned towards the weapons tables like an overeager kid. “Congratulations. You’ve just been liberated by the Blade Force. We Cell and Bye.”
Blazer cringed at the catch phrase Rudjick had come up with for the team and resisted the urge to scold Rudjick over the little announcement. He strode into the holding area, his voice set to broadcast over speakers in the mask of his helmet. “We’re here to rescue you. If you can carry a weapon, go to the security-blind elf over there. If you’re injured, talk to the woman with the med-kit. This is a jail break.”
Blazer nodded as a handful of prisoners headed towards Marda. The rest made their way towards Rudjick and Zithe as they handed out the commandeered Galactic Federation weapons. When those ran out, they handed over the team’s own back up sidearms and two extra rifles. A single creature separated itself from the pack and approached Blazer.
He couldn’t recognize its species at first. It looked like a conglomeration of numerous races, which—along with its face and distinctive foul odor—were his only clue as to its identity: Berelis Nact, a Necrid.
The Necrid were a curious species. One of the older intelligent races in the galaxy, they practiced extensive genetic modification upon their own genome. After countless millennia, no one knew what they looked like beneath the modifications or their original genome sequence. Every time the Necrid met or studied a new race, they would find a beneficial trait or aspect, and incorporate it into their own genes. Once the Necrid discovered a way of doing so on an individual level, instead of modifying each generation, each individual became different.
Blazer had only met two Necrid before and could only find one commonality—their mouths. The great tendril-filled maw had inspired terror dreams for ages when he was younger. The tendrils within wriggled non-stop, as if each were its own individual creature. Blazer felt thankful that the fasting membrane covered them. From the look of this one, the time of the great feast would be upon it soon, its fat reserves almost spent. They had no carrion for Nact to eat, however. Despite generations of modification, Necrid were still only able to digest decomposing animal and vegetable matter.
Blazer sealed his helmet against the smell as the ten-tentacle horror approached. Each tentacle looked to have a different type of skin, from water born, to fur and even some form of armored flesh. An appendage that looked like a clawed hand rose up at Blazer in an act of friendship, as it exuded its foul-smelling relief pheromones. “I am Berelius Nact.”
Blazer reached out and raised his own hand in greeting as well, careful to avoid contact, as that would invite insult.
“I assume you are here to rescue me.”
Blazer nodded and felt grateful that the mask of his helmet covered up the disgust etched across his face. “That’s right. Do you need to see our medic?” He couldn’t tell by looking what was an injury, and what was just a modification Berelis Nact had found advantageous.
“No, I am in good health, though my hunger grows.” He looked over the other prisoners. “You realize the importance that I represent.”
Blazer resented the insinuation. He’d been briefed that Berelius Nact was an excellent tactician and critical to the war effort in this sector. More than that, Necrid were prized captives by the Galactic Federation. Their mixed genomes made them ideal test subjects for the creation of chemical and biological weapons.
Blazer motioned towards the other prisoners as they armed themselves or sought medical attention from Marda, Chris assisting her. “We couldn’t just leave them behind.”
“But I am of key importance. Maybe some of your people can sneak me out the way you came in.”
Behind his mask, Blazer’s lip twisted in disgust. “No, we are all getting out of here.”
Berelius raised a scaled, clawed hand. “I can turn the tide of this war. You will leave these others behind or sneak me out a safer path.”
In response, a tall, muscular, four-armed Otlian stepped forward, Zithe’s backup rifle in his lower set of hands. "Master Sergeant Geld Rhind, Sir. My squad and I can provide all the cover you need. After we found out Berelius was held here with us, we intended to escape with him. Since you’re here, we’ll give him cover.”
“Thank you, Sergeant,” Blazer replied, the Otlian’s normally floppy ears cropped short enough to make them stand straight up.
“What’s the plan then, sir?”
Blazer cringed at that. He wasn’t an officer yet, and by all rights this sergeant outranked him as a cadet. Looking around the room he also spotted two other officers, they wore O-20 bars, but they had no command pips to challenge him with. Still, better not to mention that. “We have a Ferine dropship waiting in the lowlands and an AT-APT down in the ravine. We plan to bring them both in and get everyone out from inside the compound.”
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