May 22nd, 2036, just off the coast of Feplaria, 1:05 A.M.
The sea was calm. It was well past midnight, and the otherworldly moon was up in the otherworldly sky, shining brightly. The sky was lit with numerous stars, twinkling brightly despite the moon’s radiance. Yet despite all this illumination, it was dark. It was hard to make out anything, other than the white foam of the relatively calm waves washing over the coast.
At least that was how it seemed to the Special Group operator standing on the sail of the midget submarine. The sheer lack of any lights or lamps associated with modern civilization outside the Indian mainland was only now starting to make the transference feel real.
“One hundred twenty seconds till we’re clear to go.”
The captain spoke from behind. Beside him, stood the other four members of the team, and the XO. Each man looked out into the darkness with a tense expression.
The tension was more than understandable. Submarine insertions like this were always risky. There were many things out waiting to pounce on unsuspecting submarines, and more were being developed and fielded every day, all thanks to human ingenuity and paranoia. Making the act of inserting submarines all the more difficult.
Granted, this wasn’t the previous world, strangulated by radio emissions from so many radar systems and sensors sweeping and scanning every nook and cranny. This world was innocent, ignorant to the nastier truths of modern warfare.
The landing site had been thoroughly monitored for many days. Every day, there were at least three UAVs circling in the air, day and night, their electro-optical sensors fixed on the coastline. The dark elves had been going about their day, blissfully unaware of the ominous shapes flying above. Sometimes it was the AURA, sometimes another drone, but there was always one circling the sector defined for it. All were operating off the INS Vishal almost a thousand nautical miles away from the coast.
The midget sub steadily creeped closer to the shore. It had been built for exactly this kind of mission profile. Sneaking deep inside enemy waters, and inserting special operations troops onto enemy shores. It was easier, after all, to use a midget sub like this rather than a larger missile or attack sub.
Just as the intel had reported, the shore was desolate. The beach was a large, flat, rocky plateau ending with a steep incline into the sea. Between the sea and the rocks was a thin, sandy beach. Numerous cave formations dotted the coast, seemingly untouched by human hands. Or elven hands.
The operator turned behind to face the captain, and gave a salute.
“Thanks for the ride, captain. We’re gonna miss this boat.”
The captain saluted back. “Hope we get to meet again, Major Sharma.”
The rest of the team saluted and shook hands with the officers present. ‘Major’ Sharma was a half-lie, concocted by the operation planners. All the members of the team had been provided a little back story that deviated from the reality in order to confuse anyone who had been unfortunate enough to try and crack it. Considering that so far, none of the troublesome adversaries from the old world were present here, however, one wouldn’t be mistaken to ask the question as to why it was necessary in the first place.
As the sub came closer, the team began preparing to move. Rafts were prepared, gear was equipped and checked. Weapons were locked and put on safe. Unlike previous missions, they wouldn’t be going there to shoot some baddies and come home – provided a plan to come home even existed in the first place – but to set up shop, and engage in some sightseeing.
The sub was now a mere kilometre from the shore. One of the many benefits of being in an odd world like this was the threat level posed by the natives here. There really wasn’t much a wooden sail ship could do against a modern stealth midget sub. Unless, the captain had once mused, those pointy-ears had a sea-going version of their mini-godzilla that they deployed on that island group.
Silently, the team boarded the rafts from the submarine, with deft movements that spoke of skills polished by extensive practice. Each man let out a silent ‘Har Har Mahadev’ and a ‘Jai Shree Ram’ before the rafts sped off towards the shore.
The ride to the shore seemed long. The silence was palpable. No man spoke a word. They were all tense. For all they knew, the mission could probably be over well before it began. And the worst part, they wouldn’t even probably know about it until it was too late. One of the many disadvantages of being dropped in a world with lethal novelties like magic.
Finally, the rafts arrived at the shore. Each man dismounted, and in less than a minute, the rafts were back on their way towards the submarine. With the equipment dismounted, the men began moving.
Prior to the operation, the entire coast had been scanned and studied in detail, with the use of all sorts of sensors and cameras that DRDO had to offer. Key locations had been identified, perfect for serving as a temporary base and safe house for the operators, as well as for setting up monitoring and communication equipment.
The men lumbered on, their equipment on their backs as well as one hand. The free hand of each operator was grasping either a suppressed JVPC, or a suppressed Glock, pointed towards the ground. Each man was prepared to drop his load and bring up the gun should a target pop up, more than ready to fill anyone - or anything - with 5.56x30mm ammunition. Despite how heavy the gear was, the men walked calmly and quickly. In less than a minute, they had reached their destination.
A large cave, jutting out from the side of the steep rocks. The entrance of the cave was the only partly lit by the dim moonlight. The men couldn’t use their flashlights. Instead, quad-tube NVGs mounted on skull crushers had been provided, and each man flipped down the NVGs as they entered the cave.
They got to work quickly. Two put down their bags and immediately secured the cave’s entrance, while the rest of the team went further inside. The cave’s entrance led to a tunnel that bent southwards as one went inwards. Perfect for obscuring anything from unsuspecting ‘pointy-ears’.
The two men crouching at the entrance waited patiently, as the team inside began setting up their equipment. They had practiced many times for this, and the fruit of their training was now starting to show. Within two, long minutes, the secure transmitting equipment was ready to transmit intelligence back home.
Agent ‘Sharma’ tapped on the mic of his headset twice. At the signal, the two operators outside got up, and silently crept inside, relieved from their guard duties. So far nothing out of ordinary had occurred. Good.
“We ready to go?”
Sharma checked his watch. “Right on time. Tech boys have their stuff up and running. We’re green and transmitting. Guess we all better get changed. It’s gonna be a long haul.”
Two of the technicians switched stations and kept eye on the entrance, as the rest of the team began changing into disguises. Each man had been provided with a set of long artificial silicon ears, identical to the ones seen on the “Unidentified Biological Specimen - Alpha”, the on-paper name for the pointy-ears. Their appearances changed as they exchanged their jackets with the loose, purple-coloured embroidered robes and the brightly-coloured yellowish-white wigs. Their complexion was an advantage; it was really lucky that the pointy-ears just happened to be dark-skinned. It wouldn’t matter even if their complexion was not the same chocolate colour as the elves. No one would notice. Probably.
The two technicians, like the ones from before, held their positions with the same patience and control as a flamingo that had set its sights on a prey. They were all hardened men, there were no civilians here. There was no place for civilians in a mission like this. Maybe in the future, but not right now.
Within a few minutes, the men were ready. The two on guard duty switched places, now replaced by a pair of seemingly-normal looking dark elves. ‘Seemingly normal’, because dark elves usually didn’t roam around holding silenced PDWs.
Once the remaining members of the team were done changing into their disguises, agent Sharma checked his watch. It was 1:15 A.M. Still a fair amount of time before the real game began.
“Jain, Singh,” he signalled two of the men. “patrol.”
“Roger that.” Both men replied, picking up their weapons. They tapped the shoulders of the two operators on guard duty as they passed by, outside the cave.
Both men walked a distance from the cave, weapons in low ready, then stopped. They looked around, then tucked their guns in the loose cloth bags hung from their shoulders. Both continued walking, in pair and much slowly.
It was important. Unlike usually, they had no human source or contact on the ground to provide solid intel about their objective location. There was no contact to aide in the insertion, either. They were going in completely blind, on their own, to make way for others to seep in. Creating safe houses, establishing secure intelligence networks, it was all up to them now.
The men went around the beach. The steep rocks tapered off a few minutes-walk away from the cave, until much further down the coast they became almost completely flat. The two men walked briskly, scanning the area. Every tiny, small detail was important.
After finding a sufficiently-flat opening into the steep rocks, they climbed onto it. The two had memorized the route they took. Every step, every detail, how long it took to reach there.
The two moved further inland. Analysis of the data transmitted by UAVs had revealed this part of the land to be completely desolate, and devoid of any civilization. The nearest “UBS-Alpha” settlement was about forty kilometres south. There was nothing here. Not even villages or small hamlets. Nothing but a seemingly endless sea of tall trees.
The two moved inwards, through the dense sea of trees. Both had now worn their skull crushers and turned on their NVGs. Their movement was swift, being used to operating in densely-forested areas in hostile territory in the middle of the night. Their footsteps were silent. The only sounds were the sounds of the otherworldly, yet surprisingly-familiar bugs chirping and buzzing in the night. It slightly comforted them. At least there was something familiar here.
After a few minutes of walking, the duo arrived in a wide opening in the woods. Running through the middle of the opening was a dirt path. A highway, though nothing like the ones back home. It was probably just wide enough to be able to accommodate one big vehicle at a time, and lacked the tar that was symbolic of paved road. An old, dirt highway. Probably identical to one of the many highways that had defined the course of human history in the early days back in the old world.
The two continued walking, right alongside the highway. Two pairs of eyes, bathed in a bright green from the night vision, scanned each side of the highway, as they moved up the highway.
After a while, the men turned back, and were back in the cave after a brisk walk. The details were immediately relayed to agent Sharma. The highway, too, had been spotted by the drones, and had been tracked and monitored over a prolonged period of time for analysis. Still, getting a pair of human eyes on ground zero to see the thing wasn’t a bad idea. Precaution was always necessary.
The preparations had been done. The real game would begin soon. All the team could do was wait. Agent Sharma had his team take turns to catch some sleep. They would need it.
The night passed quickly, and the sky acquired a bluish tint, as dawn arrived. There was still time before sunrise. Agent Sharma and three of his men began packing up, moved out of the cave. Moving briskly, they traced the same route as mapped by the duo the previous night.
Just like before, the beach was clear. There was simply no one here. There were no fishing boats, no huts, no sign of any kind of any human activity here. Or ‘elf activity’.
The men silently walked through the woods, snaking around the trees, mindful of what they were stepping on. There was much more activity and noise now than the previous night, and Sharma could instinctively feel that many of the noises reaching his ear belonged to big and unpleasant things, but he decided not to think about it. They were probably too far away anyway.
The team of four arrived at the opening discovered last night. It seemed empty, just like previously. The team hid behind the foliage some distance away from the opening, away from the daylight.
A few excruciating moments of silence passed. They were tense. Yet, they had no choice. Patience was key to success. Rushing was not going to be ideal. There was probably no plan B here. They had to do it properly.
After what seemed like an eternity, their target came into sight. Their ears picked up sounds coming from the north. Voices, footsteps. Sounds of people making conversation, laughing, shouting. Sounds of cattle being herded. In a few minutes, the source of the sound revealed itself.
A large group of pointy-ears, huddled together, walking down the highway. There was a lot of variation in the group, and the sheer lack of uniformity or discipline distinguished the group as civilian travellers. A few were on horseback, many on foot. There were carts mixed in the group, filled with a variety of cargo, and people.
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Sharma signalled his men, and they got into position. As the large group passed by them, the men waited for the right moment. Then, with small, silent movements, each man slipped into the mob, blending into the crowd of people.
Each man slowly shifted his position into the crowd, walking steadily but silently, in a manner that didn’t drew attention. Until all the four members of the team had regrouped alongside agent Sharma. They kept walking, silently, avoiding any contact with the pointy-ears, who were too engrossed to pay attention to the arrival of the newcomers.
Infiltrating the crowd had been a success. They had just embedded themselves in a crowd of travellers moving towards the nearest town down south, and they had done so stealthily. It was needed. Travelling in large groups was more common. Had they turned up to the town’s gate alone, it might have raised suspicions, something that could have been dangerous. Any kind of suspicion or negative attention was bad news. All their weapons were in the cave. Right now, the only weapon they had was a small knife, and their own minds.
The men silently observed the people around them. With the exception of the long, pointed ears, they looked just like people they could find anywhere else. From their manner of speech, Sharma had an inkling many of them were probably peasants, or at least not from an affluent background.
The animals pulling the carts looked almost nearly the same as the ones back home. Sharma discreetly eyed a cart moving beside him. The driver seemed to be engrossed in conversation with another dark elf sitting alongside him. Words like ‘demons’, and ‘far west’ kept popping up in their conversation.
The animal driving the cart was a mule. At least it looked like one. It was probably impossible to tell it apart from the real one at home and the one here. It looked perfectly normal, just like any mule.
Sharma shifted his attention towards the conversation. They’d have to perform proper tests on these animals to find out what the difference is, assuming there is a difference in the first place. Biologists and medical students were supposed to worry about that, and he was lucky he was neither.
The sizable group of people continued moving south. Progress was slow. Naturally, there weren’t any cars or heavy vehicles here, so walking was the only option. There were a lot of older people, women and children here, so speeding up was out of option as well.
The trees on either side cleared up as they moved forward, giving way to a grassy plain on either side of the road. Sharma secretly checked his watch. Right on time. They had moved further inland, and were getting close to the town. Or city, whatever it may be by this land’s standards.
The large group kept moving south, now having spread out to take the extra space on each side of the road. The four men kept to themselves. Each man stayed silent, maintaining a neutral and stoic expression on his face. Communication was done only by subtle hand signals.
Each man in the team was busy eavesdropping. They were in the middle of enemy territory, right in the middle of a large group of unsuspecting pointy-ears happily chatting away. A treasure trove of intel was right in front of them, and they weren’t going to pass on this opportunity.
The walk was hard for many of the dark elves in the group, and often women, or sometimes elder people could be seen being loaded into carts. Sometimes, there was haggling, as the cart drivers tried their best to profit a little in return for the help.
The thing that caught the men’s attention the most was the peculiarity called ‘magic’. Sparks of blue, white, bright orange would sometimes fly around, almost immediately catching the team’s attention. Usually, the one responsible for these was an individual identified as a male ‘UBS-Alpha’ wearing a robe, putting up a show for the younger ones – small kids and infants riding in the arms of their mothers - in the group. Sharma noted that the robes matched the description of those mentioned in the report, retrieved from dead pointy-ears on that island group.
Each man in the team listened and watched with keen attention. This was a little understood phenomenon, and the less they knew about it, the more dangerous it became. And nobody liked dangerous things.
The walk dragged on. It was now midday, and the otherworldly sun was almost overhead. Yet the men walked coolly. Long and arduous walks like these were nothing for these men, who had been trained to operate anywhere and everywhere. Even if it was bothersome to the men, they didn’t have time to focus on it. There were other important things to deal with.
Sharma signalled his men. There was some noise at the front of the group. The town gates were in sight. The noise around them intensified, as some elves breathed a sigh of relief seeing that the tiring journey was about to end, and that they’d have some rest soon.
The city’s walls became clearer as the group came closer. They were made of stone, and by Sharma’s estimates, was about 3 storeys high. On each side of the gates, was a guard tower. Humanoid figures could be seen standing in them, from a distance, holding something long. Probably a spear, or a halberd.
There was a long line at the gates. Pointy-ears wearing all sorts of clothes waited in the queue, from medieval-era soldiers with flashy armour with ornamental patterns and with sheathed swords hanging from their hips, to ordinary peasants with modest clothes on their back. Animal drawn carts waited right alongside the queue, standing close behind each other. A group of guards could be seen at the gates. Probably extracting toll tax, Sharma assumed.
There was more noise here. Many could be heard cursing the guards for taking too long. Some were trying to pass time by amusing themselves, often using magic. For the four-man team, the sight was quite interesting. Often, small sparks of various colours and temperatures would fly around. Yet they did nothing to the team, apart from constantly keeping them on edge.
The large crowd merged with the queue. The slow-moving carts came to a stop, and people began milling about, waiting for their turn. Some of the elf women sitting in the carts opened baskets and began eating, finally getting the chance to feed their hungry families.
It was quite a while before their turn came. Despite this, the team had no trouble. It was nowhere near as bad as waiting in line for some places back home. Besides, the weather was cool. And there were conversations to eavesdrop on.
The men neatly formed into line as the crowd moved forward. Guards carrying halberds and spears constantly shouted, controlling the crowd. People jostled each other as they tried to get in first, though the jostling calmed down as the line moved forward. It was Sharma’s turn next.
“State your name and purpose for entering the city of Moralian.”
A guard asked as Sharma came up. He was yawning, and a hint of irritation could be seen on his face. His posture seemed nostalgic to Sharma, and his fingers itched out of reflex. So many such guards had become bored of duty and decided to slack off, sometimes dozing off. So many such guards had their life snatched away by a pull of trigger, and who knew how many would receive the same fate in this world……..
“Ilvisar. Traveller. Just passing by.”
Sharma stated. The guard looked at him, the frown on his face deepening very slightly.
“Duration of stay?”
“Eight days.”
The guard eyed him with a hint of annoyance. “Where shall you be staying?”
Sharma made a gesture as if thinking. “Don’t know. Shall look for a place to sleep later.”
The guard looked at Sharma for a while, then released a grunt as he leaned back on his post. There was no shortage of such wandering fools in this city, it seemed.
“Two bronze.”
Sharma fished in his cloth bag for the coins, as the guard eyed his bag disinterestedly. Handing the coins to the guard, he quickly moved in through the gates. The rest of the team followed soon, having individually paid for themselves. Each man had been provided with a carefully crafted false background, constructed from data acquired by thoroughly interrogating the captured ‘UBS-Alpha’ specimens. Names, cities, family backgrounds, profession, everything.
Inside, the city was lively. It was crowded. Houses and buildings made of timber and sometimes stone dominated the view. There were far more people here than outside, going about their business. People of various kinds milled about, soldiers, merchants, slave owners and their slaves, with thick, grey-black collars on their necks. Peeking out of the buildings, on the side of the road, were shops, often with a large cloth stretch taut over them.
Women and men shouted out to the travellers and passerby’s, hawking about their wares and services. A sizable crowd could be seen on every shop, and loud sounds of bargaining and haggling echoed around.
To the team, it felt slightly nostalgic in a way. It looked and felt a little similar to the bazaars in small villages and towns. Obviously, this was nowhere as big as the ones back home. Yet, it carried a sense of familiarity.
The team moved on. Weaving through the narrow roads, the team mixed within the crowd silently and deftly. From the outer parts of the city, they moved inwards, where the majority of the population resided.
The crowds thinned significantly as one moved inwards, as most of the establishments necessary for those travelling for long, such as inns and taverns, were located in the area near the city gates. However, there were a handful of small inns scattered in the interior of the city. These were usually smaller, and catered to unlucky travellers who had failed to secure accommodation near the city gates, as well as the local population.
The team was not moving entirely blind. Extensive analysis had been done on all data collected about the city of ‘Moralian’, gained through thorough interrogation of the captured dark elves. The analysts had been lucky that many of the captured ‘UBS-Alpha’ specimens seemed to possess a fair amount of knowledge and experience about the city. Inns, the taverns, the ruling family, the military strength of the stationed force and even links to the city’s criminal network.
Having reached their destination, the four-man team finally stopped. In front of them was a small building. A small inn, unremarkable from its surroundings. The wood seemed aged, and the walls had probably seen more of this strange world than the occupants inside.
The team entered the inn quietly. Inside, it was noisy. The inn was teeming with dark elves, drinking, eating, laughing, shouting. The place was crowded, and there was just enough space for one person to move around through the crowd without getting squashed.
The men quietly slipped through the crowd. The dark elves were too busy talking and laughing, or spilling ale and beer everywhere to notice the odd group slip past them. And even if some of them did, they probably thought haggling hard to drop the price of the food by two coppers was more important than bothering a bunch of travellers.
“Room for four.”
Sharma spoke to the young boy at the desk. The team had waded through the thick crowd very quickly, and were now in front of the inn’s front desk to secure their rooms. Part of it might simply have been due to experience.
It wasn’t as crowded as the dining area. There were only a handful of travellers here to stay in the inn’s rooms. Most of the crowd had been around the dining tables.
Within a few minutes, the team was guided upstairs by another dark elf. The young elf skilfully waded through the crowds as he guided the four men to their rooms. He seemed youthful and energetic. Sharma noted that he seemed quite open to conversation with strangers.
Internally, the four men were on edge. With their artificial silicone ears, they looked indistinguishable from the Alpha specimens around them. But there was always the unknown factor in play, something no amount of preparation could help prepare against. For one, who knew if the fake ears would really be enough? There was the obviously the whole ‘magic’ thing that they had to watch out for. Worst case scenario, they might have been already been busted long ago all thanks to it. No one knew for sure.
The men entered the rooms, with Sharma casually striking up a conversation with the young fellow. Sharma noted the young lad’s body language. So far, he didn’t seem suspicious about anything, at least from what he could tell. Then again, the men too had tried to appear as the quiet types, and only Sharma had actually done any effort to maintain conversation.
“So, Lafar,” Sharma spoke, throwing a random question as a test. ”you know this city, right? Got any good places in your mind?”
The young elf, Lafar, put a finger on his head as if thinking hard. “Hmmmm……places…..places…oh! I do know some good ones indeed! There is the Madam’s shop down the street. Quite popular with the guests. Heard they got a fresh batch of meat slaves just the previous day.”
Sharma mentally took notes. “Meat slaves?” he spoke, feigning interest in the topic with a subtle smile.
“You know, the human females they captured from far yonder, from the east I hear. Very good, from what I hear.”
Lafar leaned in slightly, and dropped the volume of his voice slightly. Not that it hid anything from any of the men’s sharp, trained ears, though. “One of the drunkards who frequents the inn at night told me about it. Apparently, they are all ethereal beauties or something. Pure white skin, gold hair, pretty complexion. And get this, they are even trained! They don’t try to bite off yer ear or something when you hold them!”
Sharma tried not to cringe as hard as he could. He had seen and read the reports from the damned island chain, and was not unfamiliar with the elves’ concept of slavery. Yet, it still came as a surprise to him. It was one thing to engage in such things consensually as a form of fantasy, and entirely another to see it happen for real in front of his eyes. He nonetheless kept his composure, his thoughts completely disconnected from his facial expression.
Sharma’s conversation with Lafar lasted for a while. All the while, the rest of the team had already set up their belongings in the room. There weren’t too many things to begin with, apart from a small loose bag containing food, besides a cheap-looking bedsheet spread over the beds for sleeping. The important equipment was hidden in their sacks, perfectly obscured from any pointy-ears prying eyes. Only their pistols remained on their persons, hidden.
Lafar left soon after. Now left alone, the team got to work. All the members immediately began a thorough checking of the room. Sharma peeked out from the small window. There were two of them, one on the eastern side of the building, and the other on the southern side. From the eastern side window, he could catch a glimpse of the street, as well as the city gate in the distance.
The room was secure. There wasn’t anything that could be used to listen on them. The windows seemed secure too, providing a clear view of the street down below. It seemed the people here were not fond of being cooped up in their homes, hence the vast majority of the population was on the street outside. Only a handful of female pointy-ears could be seen peeking out from the windows, sometimes with babies in arms.
All that was left now was to wait. Two members of the team quietly stepped out of the room, while the remaining two remained on guard duty. The place was noisy, so slipping away silently wasn’t hard at all. The two men walked with light steps on the wooden floor, making little noise. Before long, they were out on the noisy street again.
The duo began walking. The street was filled with all sorts of people. Peddlers hawked their goods, surrounded by a small crowd of people. Traders and merchants wiped the sweat off their foreheads as they shouted and haggled with their customers underneath fabric sheets stretch taut over their heads. A group of pointy-eared females stood on the side, babies in arms, gossiping.
Unassuming and oblivious dark elves brushed passed the two Indian men, failing to pay any heed to the duo. Some had heavy loads on their backs, some had nothing. There were probably drunkards in the mix too, as well as the mischievous ones. A group of young lads could be seen, running around, laughing loudly, and occasionally pass loud remarks on passing women, or female slaves.
The slaves probably stuck out the most to the Indian men, to whom the entire scene felt nostalgic and yet so strange. There were slaves on the streets, there were slaves in the shops. The unlucky ones were out in the open, naked and chained in the heat. The lucky ones, at least from their perspective, stood inside, safe from the heat.
Then there were slaves on the street. Some were males, skinny and completely naked save for a small piece of cloth wrapped around their groin, forced to haul heavy weights on their backs. Most were females, wrapped in dirty, cheap see-through clothes. All were humans, and had thick, grey-coloured metal collars wrapped around their necks.
The two men walked around town. Each man was subtly observing and analysing, not uttering a word unless necessary. Occasionally, they stopped by a shop to inspect the goods displayed. It was important to know about everything about this place, including the eating habits of the people. Sometimes, they would peer at the slaves. Their normal human ears marked them as the only humans in this town other than the team members themselves.
By dusk, the team had reconvened at the inn. The data was noted, and analysed and processed until Lafar came to knock on their doors to announce about dinner. After taking some gastro-intestinal medicine, the team went for dinner. It was two hours after dinner, at 20:00 hours, when everyone was asleep in the inn, that radios were used for the first time since their arrival. An encrypted message was transmitted, which was relayed by the hidden repeaters near the cave hideout all the way back home, till it reached an operator’s screen in New Delhi. The operation was a success. A window had been opened finally, to understand these odd beings.