Something caught his eye as he did so. Metal implants and prosthetics on two of the males and possibly the female. Such devices in the Confederation were a rarity. Biodroid prosthetics and/or regrown limbs had replaced the majority of such devices long ago. The Zantli were a slave race to the Terrans, Thal and Pharad, however. Blazer considered that such niceties wouldn’t be afforded to them.
Exiting the tent, Blazer motioned his fireteam towards the next incoming Galactic Federation soldier. They moved out. He checked the command link as they moved. Zithe downed the next target they came up to without breaking stride. All teams were moving in with great efficiency. They dropped any GF soldiers they came upon, pausing only at any occupied tents long enough to give the occupants the same non-verbal commands that he had.
he ordered.
Que Dee once again responded.
Blazer looked down at Zithe’s latest kill as they passed it. Clad in armor, the long, gangly, tripled jointed arms allowed him to identify it as an Encon. It was no surprise that Que Dee might have had trouble emulating the voice of the double jawed being.
Blazer checked his command terminal. Que Dee was right. Only a dozen enemy contacts remained near the largest cluster of refugees. He assigned ready positions to all four fireteams and they moved in. “Slugger One, Rescue Lead, status?”
The lead marine dropship responded back with crisp efficiency. “We have Geffer dropships in sight. Make them to be two Galaxy-4 Class. Small perimeter ground force, but they are unloading heavy tanks and troop carriers. Ready to engage on your signal.”
Considering that, Blazer took his position near the innermost ring of tents.
Bichard responded.
Blazer scanned the darkened cockpit window above with his rifle. Status lights blinked, but nothing more. As he pulled away a motion drew his rifle back. He kept looking for a long moment, the hint of a shadow appearing to partially eclipse an indicator. He waited, the indicator brightened then darkened again. The lowered intensity matched what he saw. He swallowed and trained his rifle on the individual Que Dee tagged as the Commander, and assigned other targets to the rest of the team. Ready indicators lit up his command interface. “Slugger One, Rescue Lead. All units here are at the ready. We attack as one, starting countdown now.”
“Copy all, Rescue Lead.”
It was the stillness before an assault that always set Blazer’s nerves on edge. A coordinated assault by sixteen units was a thing of wonder when executed correctly. But if even a single player failed at their task then the whole strike could turn against them. As the countdown raced towards zero Blazer took a deep breath and exhaled as slowly as he dared.
Zero.
The Blade Force sprang from their positions and opened fire. Blazer walked three rounds up the Commander’s chest and face. He couldn’t even let out a scream before he collapsed to the ground. Zithe, Arion, Matt, Chris, Hallet and Zanreb were similarly efficient, killing their targets with practiced ease. The rest evidently needed more time on the range. Gokhead had to fire two bursts into his target. His aim had been off since his integration with Que Dee, but it had seemed worse of late. Priest, as usual obsessed with the preservation of life, failed to kill his assigned target. Instead, he assaulted his target with multiple stun blasts. Rudjick, never one much for subtlety poured half his mass-driver magazine into his target. And like Gokhead, Bichard and Gavit also needed to fire multiple bursts at their targets to down them successfully.
Blazer surveyed the scene. Cries of panic and fear rang out from the refugees, but none moved towards them. A good sign. “Rescue Lead, Slugger One, both dropships are down.”
“Rescue Lead copies. Good work. Move into escort position on us. Hold fire until ordered.”
“Slugger One copies, moving in.”
Blazer waited a long pulse, taking the time to survey the scene and his tactical display. Only the contacts from the outer rings of tents moved, and all of them towards the cliff face.
Zithe commented.
Emerging from their hiding places, the Blade Force moved in. Their adaptive camouflage made them look like bits of the tents had come to life. Multiple refugees yelped in surprise, but still more just watched in wide-eyed fascination. The mix of races surprised Blazer. He’d rarely seen so many Federation races in one place before. While a Geffer ship might be crewed by beings from all their member and subjugated worlds, they tended to remain segregated. Unlike on Confed ships, that wasn’t due to differing environmental needs, but by status and societal class. To see a virtual absence of that surprised Blazer.
Tying into the external speakers and pickups of the rest of the team, so as not to identify himself, and to triangulate any responses, Blazer called out. “Stay seated. We are a Confed rescue force, here to get you to safety. We will respond with force to any hostile action. Is that clear?”
Nods and mutters of agreement rang out.
“Good,” Blazer replied and deactivated everyone’s adaptive camouflage, returning their ACHES to their natural black and gray colors. “Now, who’s in charge here?”
A single hand raised from near where the Geffer Commander had stood. Makes sense. “Identify yourself.”
“Captain Sinon,” he called out, looking at each of the Blade Force members in turn.
“How many refugees are amongst you?”
Que Dee reported.
“I’m not sure,” he replied unsteadily. “We had three hundred eighty-eight when we landed. But, the Federation troops made examples of several, and we lost others to injuries and illness.”
Blazer ordered.
Images of dead civilians flashed past in the back of his consciousness. Some appeared as if they’d been dead for over a cycle, while others remained warm. The numbers were eight short of the twenty five they needed.
“We’re missing bodies. Do not lie to me,” Blazer called, Zithe’s hand on his hilt.
“Everyone who died before the troops showed up, we put them in the ship. We used the freezer as a morgue.”
“How many?”
Captain Sinon turned towards the woman beside him before he responded. “Seven, we have seven in there.”
“Still short.”
Zithe unclasped the latch on his sword.
“Efrem,” the woman called out. “Efrem ran off the side of the cliff when the troops showed up.”
A moment later a patch of red appeared in the window on the edge of Blazer’s vision. At the bottom of it, the mangled remains of a body.
“Rescue Lead, Drop One One. We have incoming on sensors. Make it to be at least three, no make that four slipstream contacts, multiple vectors all closing on the planet.”
Damn it all! I knew that this was going too easily, Blazer cursed to himself. “Captain Sinon, we have multiple hostile dropships inbound. What makes you so special?”
“I don’t know,” he called out, voice shaky.
both Zithe and Que Dee responded, Zithe ready to unleash his blade.
