The number of offices and work stations clearly provided physical evidence of the retrieved data, and the brain–trust invested in this secret facility was truly astounding.
K’llan could not help but to agree with Captain Serros’s assessment that the Outpost represented one of the most significant threats to the security and autonomy of the entire Quorum Systems since the Karukai initiated, Dark Reach Wars. Those horrific years had resulted in the Gorath loss of their homeworld Ranoth, the conquest of the Irdoi world of Satnar, and the forfeiture of one of the earliest efforts at Vosaia colonization from before the Blood Schism, the planet Firrel.
In addition to lost planets, a score of space stations and asteroid colonies had also been taken or utterly destroyed by Karukai expansion efforts. The dreadful reality of the conflict produced by the Eternal Imperium’s aggression during the twenty–two year war had resulted in billions of enslaved and slain people throughout known space.
Having caught sound of yet another patrolling guard, Z’arr and Serros noiselessly stole into a small side office. Avoiding detection, both women crouched low to the ground behind the work–station. As they silently waited for the immediate danger of discovery to pass, K’llan’s mind again restlessly turned towards the meaning behind the creation of a Karukai clone army so close to border space. The preparation for conflict comparable to the magnitude of the Dark Reach Wars was a horrifying vision to consider, and yet, given the evidence she and Avara had accrued, the intent appeared to be irrefutable. Yes, K’llan Z’arr understood the significance of Outpost J2 only too well.
The sobering thought lodged in K’llan’s core with painful weight and on a selfish level, it took on added meaning. Even now, K’llan could feel the ever present hum of the Human’s nya in the background of her consciousness, as inextricable and as steady as her own heartbeat.
The arduous journey across Dantis had pushed their connection and relationship to levels that K’llan had never thought she would personally experience. As the miles had been eaten away step by step and the two had met each and every demanding challenge before them, uncertainty had dissolved along with once extant psychic and cognitive barriers. What had been discovered behind those barriers was precious beyond all measure.
And now we are on a mission that poses a very realistic threat to surviving the day, let alone the dangers galaxy–wide war with the Karukai would bring.
Sensing the dark flavor of her emotions, Avara placed one gauntleted hand on her forearm. Though she could not see Serros’s familiar features beyond the tinted visor, she could feel and see Avara’s thoughts woven before her, like a brilliant tapestry comprised of jewel–toned threads set into astoundingly intricate patterns. Avara was deliberately sending an expression of understanding, immense affection, and unarguable resolve to see the mission through. The effect was reinvigoration of heart and purpose alike. K’llan answered in kind, and with a slight nod, the two left the shadows and the patrolling guard behind to slip out of the research office and continue their path to the Hub.
After what seemed like years but was in reality closer to two or so hours, at the end–point of one of the major central hallways of the structure, K’llan and Avara reached the outer–area of their destination. A carefully captured glance at the Communication Hub and Systems Core’s wide entryway from around a corner unsurprisingly, yet no less problematically, revealed two guards standing at attention to either side of the sealed doorway. Neither sported the lighting chevrons on their standard issue crimson armor that would mark them as Varda, yet their presence still represented a significant obstacle.
K’llan found herself wishing once more that they still had all of their personal and standard issue Nova Squad gear, rather than their borrowed Karukai equipment and weapons. A fully adaptable Zadex assault to sniper rifle would prove more than adequate to noiselessly take the Karukai guards out of the equation. As it stood, they would have to find another solution.
Dispelling the tint to her visor with a quick toggle, Avara made several motions with her hands and silently mouthed a few words.
Nodding her understanding of the plan, K’llan confirmed her go–ahead and, after straightening their posture, the two casually walked towards the Karukai guards as if they had every right to be strolling down the Outpost’s corridors at approximately four in the morning. The sentries did not immediately react, buying K’llan and Avara precious seconds to close the distance. But then, as monotony and sleep induced mental lethargy were shaken off, the Karukai recognized that they were wearing helmets and more, that their visors were unnecessarily tinted in the fabricated light of the facility’s interior.
“What are you doing here at this time in the morning?” The lead guard on the left asked in the Karukai tongue of K’avenas. K’llan could feel boredom give way to subtle suspicion as the guard’s rose colored eyes narrowed and her left hand twitched towards the mag–clipped sidearm at her waist.
“There is some sort of system’s fluctuation that seems to be originating from the Core. We were sent to run a quick diagnostic before calling in the techs.” K’llan answered easily, keeping her voice level and the nervous spike of her emotions well–contained in case the Karukai, just as gifted and skilled in empathic ability as Vosaia, were able to read her anxiety.
“We did not receive any notification.” The second guard answered, her delicate features narrowed in confusion as pace by pace, the two disguised Squadmates continued their unhurried advance.
Just a few more feet…
“Hmm. Surprising. I wonder if the fluctuation is interfering with communications?” K’llan answered, projecting professional curiosity and mild concern.
And…
“I better call…”
Now!
As one, K’llan and Avara sped forward into action. Leveraging her momentum, K’llan used her right forearm and elbow to slam into the starboard Karukai’s unprotected head with bone–shattering force. At the same time, her left reflexively shot out to push the woman’s pistol gripping opposite hand to the side. K’llan found the pop signifying the Karukai’s neck was successfully snapped to be satisfying for all of a single heartbeat.
Until the crack of a stray bullet cut through the quiet corridors.
“Damn!” Captain Serros muttered, having also dispatched her target.
Unfortunately, K’llan’s guard had, though dead, reflexively squeezed the trigger of her drawn Nadir–make pistol; fired neurons had not quite registered the morbid finality of death. K’llan was able to track a single frayed hole marking the bullet’s entry into the left–most wall which was thankfully, not constructed of glass but rather molded durexium.
“Let’s get them inside on the double.” The Captain commanded, taking up a guard position while K’llan quickly entered the security key she had fabricated earlier.
Without protest the doors hissed open, revealing a large, tech smelling room replete with blinking lights and sensors housing multiple control panels and boards, as well as power distribution conduits. K’llan easily spotted the room’s two main control stations, Systems and Communications. As was semi–standard design, each control station was fairly large, with six straight and distinct outer sides that almost perfectly resembled a dodecagon sliced in half.
Rapidly lifting the two dead guards over their shoulders, K’llan was momentarily struck by the humorous, yet somehow totally inappropriate thought, that she had been spending significantly too much time slinging corpses lately.
While K’llan set to splicing into the Communications Control Station some twelve feet into the room’s interior, Avara quickly locked the door from the inside and then proceeded to hack into the portal’s software as well as manual control panel to render the lock inoperable from the other side.
When Avara finished her task and, just as K’llan had done, toggled the helmet retraction button, K’llan very briefly looked up to meet the Captain’s eyes. “I am sorry.”
“No need for an apology. Could
have happened to either one of us.” The Human responded, tone conveying her sincerity.
Z’arr knew the assertion to be true, yet still…
“Maybe they won’t notice. Besides, look at it this way,” Avara began, offering her infectious, crooked half–grin that the Vosaia had grown so very fond of. “If it had been me, there’s no doubt that the entire Outpost would be awake and armed because glass would’ve been sprayed everywhere, rather than just a nicked wall.”
Despite her apprehension, K’llan could not help but to laugh at Avara’s reference to their on–going, personal joke. “Well, I suppose we must be thankful then.”
“Exactly.” Serros responded, moving to explore the room while they had a chance to do so.
The Lieutenant was only a few minutes into the Communications System when a syncopated bring–bring sound of what could only represent a facility alert suddenly blared through the building’s walls.
“Well, I guess they noticed after all.” Avara quipped, taking up a readied position next to the Vosaia, rifle in hand. Though not an ideal place for battle, the Central Control Station offered the most dedicated protection of any barrier within the room, designed with triple–paned durexium sheets to ensure control safety. K’llan knew Avara intended that they capitalize on that advantage if cornered; they would have few others.
“Keep at it, Lieutenant.” The Human encouraged.
“At it.” Z’arr increased her already frantic pace. The security measures were definitively a significant step–up from standard Karukai protocols.
Probably, she mused sarcastically to herself, because we are attempting to break into systems located on a secret base in the middle of Black Space.
Four minutes later, with a surge of triumph K’llan announced, “I am in! Embedding the drafted communique to Excalibur in both primary and junk feeds in case the Karukai capture the outgoing transmission.”
“Well done.” Captain Serros complimented.
Just then, a thud–thunk–bang sounded against the jimmied doors of the Control Core, causing K’llan to half jump out of her seat before forcing herself to settle back into the chair and continue. “I need five more minutes.”
“You’ll have it.” Avara answered, her voice steady as she unclipped one of the last three K–Grenades that they possessed.
Ignoring the looming threat and effort of enemy entry quickly became one of the most nerve–trying tasks she had ever set herself to, but K’llan was determined to complete their mission.
Cocking her head and capturing some sound that K’llan did not have the time to detect or analyze, Avara commented a few minutes later “They’ve set charges.”
“Almost there.”
“Understood.” Though still maintaining her position behind the control station’s more protected siding, Avara stood up, fists clenched and arms half raised. Sparing a quick glance, K’llan noted the kobalt infused light that gradually superimposed and then bled from Avara’s naturally night–blue orbs.
“I hear a timer.” She announced through gritted teeth.
“A few more seconds!” K’llan proclaimed. Then, “Message sent! It’s done, Avara!”
“Get down!” The Captain ordered just before a booming explosion tore through the room’s doors and entryway.
Before the smoke and dust had even begun to dissipate, Avara Serros pushed outward with both fists like a person executing free–weight lifts, peeling her fingers to an open–palm position a second before dark, cerulean light blasted forth and through the portal.
Panes of durexium from shorn walls shrieked in ear grinding protest as the kobalt powered blast ripped them apart. The crystalline sound of shattered glass rained throughout the now open doorway, only to continue down the immediate and adjacent hallways. Cries of humanoid voices and the thudding of flesh to metal and glass accompanied the sound of spinning crystal.
Half–shaking with the exertion but exhibiting no hesitation, Serros then hand–launched the readied grenade down the same open path. The act issued a second, blasting explosion followed by more cries from scorched throats that were unceremoniously silenced in the almost eerily quiet aftermath.
“It seems that you managed to maintain your ongoing habit of glass obliteration after all, Avara.” K’llan finally remarked into the hush.
“Ah,” she replied with a slightly horse laugh. “So I did. Wouldn’t want to disappoint you.”
“I will remember you said that.” K’llan responded dryly.
“I’m sure you will.” Avara returned as she retrieved rifle to hand and her volcanic gaze speared the corridor beyond for signs of the enemy. K’llan knew she was alternating her visual spectrum and acuity to peer through dust and walls alike.
“Erase our presence and what you did.” Avara added a second later, still scanning.
“Erasing.” K’llan replied as she bent back to work, finishing the undertaking in short order. Yet half a dozen heartbeats in, K’llan came upon something that tickled at her mind, like a forgotten memory demanding acknowledgement.
Wait, what is this? Why…
“Avara! They… a coded command has been sent, following standard procedure of an Alert Level Three, Infiltration Protocol. The Facility Director, Dr. Y’sar… she plans to vent all prisoner cells!”
“Can you override?” Avara asked.
“No. An override can only be performed with the proper, physical command card. Y’sar is currently sequestered in her Office.”
“Is it possible for you to release the cells?” The Shield fired, mind desperately questing for a solution.
Shaking her head, the Vosaia answered “No, not from here.”
“How long?”
“Less than thirty seconds!”
“Okay,” Serros responded. “Is there anything you can do to delay the action?”
“Let’s see, let’s see…” K’llan muttered, tearing through ideas and console information alike. “I can initiate a maintenance cycle of the ventilation system, which should automatically postpone the air–retraction progression!” Moving her fingers across the sienna colored holo–keyboard at a pace lightning would admire, K’llan began her attempt even before Avara had acknowledged the suggestion.
“Got it! We now have ten minutes before the maintenance cycle is complete and the venting protocol kicks in.”
“Superb! And our presence?”
“Wiped.” K’llan confirmed. “And while I was at it, I set the system–controls to lock in several Karukai quarters. It should slow down hostile engagement.”
“Well done again, K’llan.” Avara stated fervently, then added, “Lieutenant, I need you to make it to Director Y’sar’s office. Get that Command Card and free the prisoners.”
Captured by Avara’s intense gaze, the Vosaia whispered: “You are going to go after the Cloning Tanks.”
“Yes. I will help get you most of the way, then I’m going to leave it up to you to make sure that the test subjects leave here alive; that all of you make it out.”
K’llan could feel Avara’s intent, radiating off of her with the force of a supernova. Not only was Serros determined that the mission would succeed, but she was equally resolute to make sure that K’llan survived, even if she herself did not.
“No.” K’llan said, nya shrieking with refusal to accept Avara’s proposition. “We will succeed together, at both objectives.”
“We have to guarantee word will reach the Quorum, K’llan. It’s the best way to ensure success, and the only way to immediately save over thirty lives. Or are you content to just leave the prisoners to their fate? ” Avara grated out, brutally wielding the truth. Worse, K’llan knew that the Human, her Nyeria, understood her well enough to recognize that ordering K’llan would not be enough; she had to convince her of where her duty lay. “We’re running out of time, K’llan.”
“We will split and I will ensure the escape of the slaves, then I will rejoin and aid you.” Seeing that Avara was about to continue the argument, K’
llan added “We are running out of time, Captain. Nine minutes until the maintenance cycle is complete.”
“Very well.” Serros growled, mouth an angry slash and those marvelous eyes aflame with frustration and for now, tempered acquiescence.
Just as K’llan held no secrets from Avara in the face of their bond, the same was true in reverse. K’llan fully understood that the Quorum Shield Operative intended to complete the mission before K’llan reunited with her, even as the Vosaia was equally determined to negate the possibility.
“Time to go.” The Captain announced as they caught the sound of pounding footsteps.
Nodding in response, the two activated their Physical Dexterity, Speed, and Agility Enhancements and swooshed out of the Control Room and through the debris filled hallways at breakneck speed.
CHAPTER 27
Without pause or lessening her pace in the least, Avara snaked her left arm around the startled guard she and K’llan had just stumbled upon while rounding a corner. Using her momentum, Serros carried the Karukai for the space of an eye–blink before twisting the guard’s neck one–hundred and eighty degrees around, leaving her lifeless corpse behind. At her right, Z’arr finished off a second guard in like fashion.
With Arca speed unleashed, the two became heralds of death, their blurred forms resembling wraiths bent on revenge as they devoured distance and tore through each Karukai who dared to block their path. They had almost reached the midway–point between the entrance to the underground Cloning Lab and the Outpost Director’s Office when the two came upon the first organized resistance since leaving the Comm and Sys Core behind.
Avara and K’llan half–skidded across the slick flooring to take refuge behind one of the facility’s security–station desks, avoiding the ripping streams of rifle–fire by a hair. The sprays of rocketing bullets mercilessly shredded into the confines of their cover, causing shards of durexium, wood–silicate, and paint chips to spew forth in all directions from the battered station. The seemingly ceaseless cacophony made Avara feel like her ears were going to bleed with the strain.
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