3 Days Later. December 8th, 2267. 06:25 Confederate Armory

John rolled up to the checkpoint in his big truck. There was no line and looking off to his right there was barely anyone present at the site given the state of the parking lot. He sighed as he looked at his uniform, was wearing a Naval working uniform. He didn’t care for the blue camo personally, he preferred the traditional green camo, but it clashed with the interior color of the seats badly.

The two guards, both E-4s, looked utterly bored, and now slightly annoyed that there was someone at their gate. They now had to work, to do something. There seemed to be a small argument to determine who would handle the guest. John sat in his truck for three minutes while the two individuals continued their argument.

He laid on the horn hard as he rolled the window down. Then he pointed at the two men and then at the ground outside his window. Good guy O-6 was gone, he was now going to be an asshole officer. He just hoped that the Xenuian's control of communication channels had interrupted the secured systems the Navy used.

John would find that answer out momentarily. One of the enlisted walked out of the hut and saluted. He quickly saluted back.

“Good morning,” John said curtly as he handed a data slate, “I am here to retrieve two warheads.”

The soldier took the orders and looked them up and down. He noticed the date on them and then looked back at the hut. His compatriot looked like he was trying to get back into a comfortable place to restart a nap. They entirely ignored his gestures to look at the orders.

“Is there a problem petty officer?”

“Sir, well, orders and communications have been, poor, in the past few months here.”

“And?”

“Well, these orders are from just three days ago. I haven’t seen anything that isn’t at least three months old,” the petty office shrugged.

John noticed that the man hadn’t yet scanned his badge. He decided to fully delve into the ‘asshole-officer’ stereotype and push. That means reaching out and grabbing his identification badge from the guard’s hand.

“Open the damned gate. I’m in a bloody hurry.”

The guard was very surprised by the action of the officer. He was flummoxed by the move. So much so that he had forgotten that he hadn’t yet scanned the badge. The guard took the data slate with the orders and scanned it with his handheld device. A green light came up in the device he was carrying.

“They are legit, I’ll be damned,” the guard said as he turned to press a button on his device.

The gate’s security measures were then temporarily deactivated. John betrayed no hint of emotion when the guard handed him the data slate. He casually took it and placed it into one of his pockets. Then the truck slowly drove through the gate and headed towards the armory.

It would take John and three technicians two hours to remove the warheads. There were many questions throughout the process about why they were doing that, but none were given. John reminded them of the secrecy behind what they were doing. He didn’t need to threaten them with any reprisals because they knew what loose lips did.

With that process down they secured the warheads in a transportation device. The grav-lift could just barely handle it. The truck they loaded it into had a hefty winch which made getting it into the bed easy. Maneuvering the warhead into place on the shuttle was going to take more effort than John presumed. At the last second John acquired a heavy lift frame and loaded that into the back of the truck as well. Then he drove off.

What made John’s plan come together was the shuttle hangar was a short two-mile drive from the armory. There was only one security checkpoint separating the shuttle port from the Naval base. That checkpoint was automated. John did enjoy hearing the chatter between the ground controllers and the various shuttles but was glad he didn’t have to communicate via those channels.

The roads at the base were completely separate from the taxiways and landing pads. There was no need for his truck to leave the road, which was completely separate from them. There were several turns and dips where he went under the taxiway, which he paralleled. It took a while but eventually, he arrived at the private shuttle hangars.

“Eve, begin the surveillance loop and jam the Xenuian emergency broadcast. I also want you to make sure to wipe any logs of theirs that it engaged and ensure it doesn’t send it out after the fact.”

John looked down at his tablet and a green checkmark appeared. She was already ready for the order. Before he had even finished speaking everything that he had planned was enacted. They had full control of all systems at the hangar base.

The truck rolled up to the hangar where the Xenuian shuttle was stored. Its main door opened to roughly twice the width of John’s truck. He backed the truck into the hangar as close as he could get without touching it.

The shuttle’s ramp slowly descended as John hopped out of the truck. He walked up the ramp and looked around the interior. The exterior of the vessel was two primary colors, gunmetal and red gold. Inside though there were several shades of pale blue.

“The colors inside are rubbish,” John said quietly as he walked around the shuttle.

He needed to find a space to stash the warheads. They were about four and a half feet long by two feet by two feet. It wasn’t huge, but it was large enough to be in an awkward size. Not helping him any are the few places he could stash it.

John stood still and rubbed his stubbly chin as he looked. And he looked some more. He couldn’t risk hiding it in a bunk, they might find the devices and then not go anywhere. That was the only place that stood out to John. Then he found it.

There were two lockers tucked away in the back of the shuttle, and a small railing was in place to prevent anyone from tumbling out of the shuttle and onto the ramp below. He walked over and opened the first one.

“Perfect,” John said as he hustled out of the shuttle.

He ran to the truck and jumped into the bed. He hooked himself up to the heavy lift frame and undid the straps holding the warheads in place. Then he moved them to the rear of the truck carefully. John didn’t know how jumping out of the truck would work with the bulky device that he was strapped into, so instead he used the heavy life arm to lower him to the hangar floor.

Then he lifted both warheads out of the truck and laid them both onto the ground. In a sweeping and smooth motion, John picked up one of the warheads as he turned and walked back towards the shuttle. Ten minutes later both lockers had a warhead loaded into it.

They were magnetically locked in place, so no banging wouldn’t be around. The warheads were armed and would stay inert until a very specific signal couldn’t be detected. John grinned at his unique kill switch. If the enemy blocked transmissions from within the ship they’d go off. If they didn’t block those signals then John could just turn the transmission off, effectively getting the same outcome.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

Finally, the doors were also magnetically sealed by a heavy magnet, ensuring no one would find the warheads. The hope here is the users of the shuttle would give up and find someplace else to stow their gear. It was an assumption, one that John desperately hoped wouldn’t come back to bite him in the ass. With that, he exited the shuttle. Its ramp closed slowly as he walked towards his truck.

After the heavy life frame was turned off and deposited in the back of the truck John drove out of the shuttle hangar and headed back towards the armory. He was in a hurry to get home. But he had to get out of the base first. The two guards at the front gate noticed John’s big truck and quickly opened the gate for him, they wanted as little to do with him as possible.

John cocked his head and smiled as he drove off onto the main road, “The coup de grace is loaded.”

9 Days Later. December 17th, 2267. 02:00 Naval Intelligence Safe House

The following week passed by dreadfully slowly. John wanted to attack the Xenuians and end them. But he thought better of it and waited. And waited some more. The group, as far as he could tell, remained holed up in their building.

A frontal assault wasn’t something he wanted to risk. The reward just wasn’t present. But ideally, John wanted to capture at least one of the agents. How he was going to do that was unknown to him. He had been bouncing ideas off the wall but nothing stuck.

He was forced into action this morning when a large slip wake was detected in real space. Something big was coming, and it’d be here in hours, not days. The time to work on a plan or think about them was over.

John was pissed that he hadn’t come up with a firm plan. But necessity was the mother of invention after all. He was sitting in his safehouse pacing back and forth near his terminal.

“Got it,” John said, “Eve, what’s the likelihood of them sending all five to view the shuttle if there’s a warning?”

“Unknown, we don’t have enough data to compute that.”

“Low though, right?”

“Possibly.”

John then walked out of the room and into the closet to get to the secret basement. He climbed down the stairs and began grabbing some gear off the walls. It was time to act.

When he got back to the main floor, he began changing his clothes. John slipped into a combat suit and began getting the armor plates locked in place. He opted to hold off on putting on the back and waist plates until he got to his destination. They were lying in the bag with the guns and helmets.

“Eve, when we get closer to the city, I want you to put out an alert. Whoever is left in that building we’re going to eliminate. I got a hunch about their leader.”

The computerized voice responded, “When precisely would you like to engage that signal?”

“When we get to the city.”

“Understood.”

John knelt by the bag and went through the gear in his kit. There were a couple of pistols, a funky-looking double knife, a couple of other bladed weapons, and a submachine gun. The armor plates, helmet, and numerous loaded magazines were in there as well.

He nodded as he stood up. The last thing he needed to do was hide his armor. John put on an oversized hoody and a pair of sweatpants. He looked like a clean hobo or lazy college student with his ensemble. Well, a deadly version of that case.

With the gear in his bag, John picked it up and headed outside to his truck. The winter chill was in the air. It still wasn’t freezing overnight, but with the howling wind, it was far from pleasant to be outside. John opened the back seat and placed the bag on the floor.

Moments later the truck sped off down the gravel driveway, then hauled ass down the gravel road towards the highway. John remembered the wind was howling across the road. Each gust felt like it was pushing his truck to within an inch of being on two wheels. But despite that, it sped on down the road at breakneck speeds. They became ludicrous the moment he was on paved roads.

03:55 Outside of the Kenno Noir Building

John was annoyed that he arrived at this location ten minutes later than he wanted to, but his truck was low on fuel. He averaged over one hundred forty miles per hour driving back to the city. His truck was capable, and even liked, being pushed that hard. But it drank fuel like crazy at those speeds.

Despite his complaints, his plan worked. The fake alarm drew three members from the base. Two members of their team were in the base. Unfortunately, using the traffic camera feeds John couldn’t identify who was in the car besides Elias.

John was busy getting the last armor plates in place. A pistol and the weird double knife were in each of his hands, with the leather pouch secured next to one of his hip plates. Then he jogged down the alley towards the Xenuian base.

He stopped at the end of one build and peaked around the corner. John took a deep breath and strode forward towards the rear door. John held his hand in front of the small terminal and scanner to the right of the handle.

John stood there keeping his head on a swivel. He didn’t like being exposed this much, but it was necessary. Moments later the door opened. John stepped inside. The hallways ahead of him were dark, but noise could be heard from someplace in the building.

Noise generally meant people, so John headed towards that. And his presumption was right. John took a left turn and surprised both he and the man he bumped into.

John instantly jabbed with his right hand. The barrel of the gun grazed the man’s cheek and smacked him square in the mouth. He dropped the weird knife and punched it into the man’s side.

Bacchus was stunned by the one-two combo of attacks. He was on his back foot and tried to steady his balance. But before he could do anything the pistol in the attacker’s hand came crashing down across his face. A deep gash was spilling out crimson blood. Worse yet Bacchus was sent stumbling back.

John could smell the blood in the water. He magnetically holstered the pistol and rushed the man. Punch after punch was thrown. At no point was Bacchus capable of putting up a defense, much less from a counterattack. It was an entirely one-sided beatdown.

One final punch sent Bacchus spinning backward as he fell to the ground. John stepped forward and was about to lean down to grab him when Silvia came into the room to investigate. She leaped into action and jump-kicked John.

Silvia was shocked at how her attack did virtually nothing. Her foot hurt now. She got into a defensive position. It was a good thing that she did because John wasted no time in attacking her.

Now to be entirely fair to Silvia, her hands and feet weren’t armored. John’s however was, so every punch was going to hurt that much more. More than that though, Silvia was shocked at the ferocity of the attacks. Unlike Bacchus, she was able to deflect most of the attacks. But each deflection hurt.

All it took was one solid punch to rock Silvia’s world. Her vision doubled. She lost the steadiness in her feet. And that ability to deflect the attacks was now gone. Her defense was truly broken when John dashed forward and kneed her in the abdomen. That sent her rocking back, but a backhand across the face sent her spinning and she slammed into the wall hard.

Bits and pieces of her training regimen popped into her head. In every case, the men she sparred with had pulled their punches. There was no mercy given in this fight. The punches came as a flurry, and despite her attempts at defending, the writing was on the wall.

The last punch sent Silvia’s world to darkness. It was a mean hook that caught her jaw square, just as she was steadying herself and turned to face her attacker. She didn’t even see John close the distance, much less throw the punch. Her body fell to the ground with an empty thud.

John circled his latest opponent like an alpha predator. When she didn’t get it up John relaxed and nudged her body with his boot. There was no reaction, John shrugged then leaned over and grabbed her arm. He dragged her over near where Bacchus’ prone form was laid out on the floor.

When he let her go he knelt beside her and rummaged around the leather pouch. A single syringe was pulled out. John quickly stabbed Sylvia’s arm and injected her with the substance. He then did the same with Bacchus.

“You won’t be waking up from that…” John said as he dropped the needle on the ground.

He looked around the floor and found the weird knife. Ah yes, the weird knife had two separate blades and was connected by a pair of handles connected around a central pivot. It was ironic that it was useful now, but normally there was no good reason for anyone to need or use a knife like this.

After finding it, John walked back to the pair of unconscious agents and stabbed Bacchus in the thigh. He did the same to Sylvia. Then he slowly shoved the knife into Bacchus’ back. John then grabbed Sylvia with his right hand and picked her up off the ground slightly. That act caused his arms to burn due to the brief bought he had.

With his left arm, he rotated the second knife and then methodically drove the blade into her back. He stood up and then walked over to a terminal on the wall. With his hand out John spoke.

“Eve, get into the system and copy everything from their local network to my private one. Estimate time to decrypt and transfer everything.”

A moment later Eve’s voice spoke inside his helmet, “I was surprised by what I saw and reran thirty-six checks in the past twenty seconds. Their network is not protected, and nothing is encrypted. It is possible that this terminal was frequently used and is currently logged in with all permissions.”

John smiled, “Oh that is glorious. If the enemy is going to give you an easy pitch you gotta swing for the fences.”

“The external file transfer should take twenty-three minutes. I will attach a subroutine to do so surreptitiously to avoid detection.”

“Good, we’re done here.”

John felt triumphant as he jogged back to his truck. He detached the awkward armor plates just as he got to it. He quickly chucked his gear into the back seat. Then he got into the driver’s seat and sped off hastily. One way or another, this mission would be resolved by day's end.