O’Brian rested himself against a tree that overlooked a moderately sized valley blistering with trees whose canopy blanketed the ground below. Beside him prone, was Darion. His helmet was placed beside him revealing a chestnut colored Mohawk. His helmet shared his characteristic of a scratched surface, keeping only a small portion untouched; the design resembling eyes in a crosshair fashion.
He had two scars on his cheeks and two on the upper side of his temples. His expression was nil, the embodiment of a cold-blooded sniper. He was situated with a rifle that rested on a suspended sling. He hid behind a dirt berm that created a crevice for his barrel to sit in between the man-made crevice. It was a Series Ten Marksman Rifle, suppressed. Compared to the Series Eight Auto-Rifle of the same brand, it featured a full length twenty-two-inch integrated suppressor chambered in .338 Subsonic.
The scope used could magnify from one to sixteen and had an integrated infra-red laser range finder and HUD link system. It was Darion’s second favorite rifle to the Series Twelve Anti-Material Rifle, but operations called for subtle, and so he dropped in with the S10.
“Anything different?” O’Brian questioned, removing his helmet and looking through his set of binoculars.
“Nope. Same routine for the last few weeks. Hasn’t left the town, and the guards maintain the same rotation,” Darion responded with a bored tone.
“What’s she doing now?” he said as he scanned the surrounding area for any additional threats that may have missed in their several weeks of surveillance.
The town was simple, such that it gave a home feel. It wasn’t crowded, and the buildings were spread out to offer its residents some form of privacy along with their moderately managed hedges that separated their backyards.
“Walking the kids and greeting the neighbors, as usual,” he sighed, readjusting his eye relief to his scope.
“Same number of guards?” replied O’Brian.
“The same ten. Pretty sure the other five are on their rest period right now,” replied Darion.
O’Brian recalled when his squad had entered the system, before their current position, and how his squad had dropped much further than they had anticipated for their initial insertion. It was during their first time in the system.
They had entered the system shortly after taking the intel from Lassus station with the help of Minerva and Athena. After the coordinates were secured, O’Brian and his preselected squad immediately set the course with a Slip-Space jump. Luckily for them, they were aboard the latest line of ship and instead of an estimated month of standard slip-space travel, their ship was able to knock it down in half. To maintain resources, however, the crew of the TRSC Reaper’s Approach were put into cryogenic slumber.
It was shortly after they had entered the system that they found a new series of ship made my the enemy that had a new form of stealth capability. They relayed that information to the main fleet and from then on, they were radio silent.
From a few days of scans, The Reaper was able to discover that the Sellians conducted scheduled burns of orbiting satellites which so happened to land near their target. He didn’t like it at the time, but it was a given that before the next burn, O’Brian and his squad would hi-jack it and enter the planet in drop pods.
The only time he did something like that was during a covert operation on a planet that orbited close to an asteroid field. Meteorites were common place, and they used that for cover in their descent. The mission was executed smoothly, but he had hoped he would only do that once since the likelihood of ramming into a stray asteroid was too high for his liking.
During their fall, they had landed in a barren field of burnt scrap and still smoldering metals from the latest burn. From there, his squad trekked through a dense mountainous forest to their current overlook. If not for their current mission, O’Brian would have liked to take in the sights that didn’t involve combat or surveillance.
After traversing the mountain range and deep forest, that brought O’Brian’s squad to their current location; a cliff face overlooking a small home centered around retirement.
“How long do you think it’s gonna take for the main fleet to arrive?” asked Darion, as he took a sip from a nearby water source.
“Should be soon,” replied O’Brian.
“It’s been a month. They should bombard this planet and send us home,” complained Darion.
O’Brian made a wry smile, letting also a slight chuckle escape his lips, “Once we get a ping, that’s when we can finally advance. Besides, this we’re at war. You go home when we’re finished.”
Darion sighed heavily, grumbling paired with his displeasure. O’Brian got up from his seat and grabbed his helmet, “Notify me of any changes, Dare.”
The man in question gave a nonchalant wave of his free hand that rested on the top of the rifle as O’Brian made his way to the rest of the squad.
Moving away from the cliff face, O’Brian delved into the trees and into a clearing that the rest of the squad gathered. The foliage of the trees was dense enough that most of the sky was shaded. In the clearing, they had spent several days perfecting a fighting hole in a perimeter of the clearing and each hole was occupied by a pair of Raiders. One would sleep while the other would be awake.
A total of twelve raiders, not including himself, were the only advanced force present on the planet, and they couldn’t risk engaging a numerically superior force to overrun their position. He had thought about how best to effectively maintain their covert status.
O’Brian moved over to his foxhole and took a seat on a crudely fashioned outcrop as a chair when he was visited by a team member. She bore red markings on her main chest plate with two stripes forming inward while the center most piece was a series of disjointed striped pointed toward a vertical stripe down the center. The name on her nameplate reading ‘STREGA’.
She removed her helmet before speaking, revealing light-brown hair and blue eyes. She also had a large faint scar running from her right cheek through the upper bridge of her nose and a smaller one on her left cheek.
“How long do you think we’ll still be on watch duty?” she asked, taking a bite out of a protein bar.
“Until we get a ping from the Admiral,” he replied. He then took a drink from his canteen, “Once we get that, then we can move forward with the mission,” she frowned at the notion of having to wait, but he understood why many were frustrated, annoyed, or both.
“Say, what do you think, Athena?” Strega spoke aloud, directing her voice to the device that hung on O’Brian's left waist. He reached out and leveled the device between them both, Athena’s figure taking a small form constrained to the projector of the device.
“Calculating the 7th fleet’s combat effectiveness and commanding authority, I would say within the next few hours, give or take a day or two.”
“So, wait,” O’Brian said, “great…”
“It appears I am detecting some form of Sarcasm,” commented Athena.
“You are correct,” he replied, resting his head on the wall of his foxhole.
“You can’t be that mean, sir,” Strega replied, taking hold of Athena’s device for the resting O’Brian. Even with his eyes closed, he could still hear the two conversing.
“So, can an AI appreciate music?”
“I don’t see how that’s important for the mission at hand-”
“It’s fine! C'mon, I'm sure he wouldn’t mind, would you Sir?”
“Knock yourselves out,” he gave a dismissal wave, and the two set off to their respective foxhole.
By the time he came to, he was met with the bright illumination that was Athena, supported by a tired-looking Strega. He had noticed a bit earlier that he was approached while his eyes were closed. The vibrations he felt against wall of his fighting hole were light and careful. There was only one person that light, and it was Strega, as she was the lightest, even in full kit.
Night had just begun to set behind the mountain and the shadow it cast slowly crept toward the town below and O’Brian was met with Strega who had a look and urgency upon her face. The same could be applied to Athena as well.
“Lieutenant…” Athens spoke softly, trying not to alarm O’Brian, “We’ve been notified to proceed with our mission.”
He rubbed his eyes and shook his head to forcibly wake himself up, “Gather the others. I’ll be there in five.”
Strega handed Athena’s device back to O’Brian, and he gently placed it back in its original spot. He readied his rifle, this time it was a different model from his standard S8-AR. It was the Series Four SBR, aka the ‘Badger’. A compact short-barreled rifle with an integrated suppressor and chambered with a specialized caseless 7.62 × 35 mm armor-piercing sub-sonic round. It was devised with stealth operations in mind and no longer needed to eject a bullet casing after every shot, which proved invaluable for maintaining covert status. It was a recent addition to their arsenal and one he quickly took a liking to.
After Strega gathered the rest of the squad, he addressed them about the new phase of their mission.
“Listen up. We have a simple case of bag and tag. We get in, retrieve the assets, and stage for a mechanized assault. Any questions?”
One Raider raised his hand. They had relatively unscathed armor and their shoulder marking was a worn white that now resembled gray instead of the former, “And the guards? Take 'em out?”
O’Brian nodded, “Quiet as you can. Your knife is your best bet, but refrain from firing your primary. If you have to, utilize your sidearm.”
He patted his right thigh that holstered a suppressed Series Two Sidearm, “Any other questions? No? Then get set to rappel the cliff face.”
The squad returned in unison with a soft ‘Aye Sir’ and proceeded to set up their rope. The cliff face was at a height of around sixty-three meters, their rope barely able to reach the bottom. Two sets were fastened around opposing trunks of the sturdiest trees beside the cliff. Darion remained in his position, still facing toward the town.
“Anything new?” He shook his head and gave the same answer when he asked before. O’Brian took that as a sign and authorized the rest of the squad to rappel. The first pair going first set attached a D-ring from a harness on their waist, with the rope pulled off to the side to act as a throttle for their descent. The first pair were smooth in their descent and after reaching the bottom, detached themselves front the rope simply by running through to the end of the line. After they were cleared, the first two took a position by the trees to provide security.
They had entered a combat mindset, as it was present in their conduct. Two by two, they descended the cliff, leaving Darion and one other to keep overwatch.
“Why do I need a spotter?” Darion had mentioned many times before that he had no need for a spotter but was always stuck with one.
“It’s protocol. Besides, he’s just there to watch your back,” O’Brian replied into his helmet’s comm set.
“Oh hey, watch out for the big guy,” Darion made one more mention before ending his transmission. From above, O’Brian noticed a large outline on his HUD in green from the built-in friend and foe identifier system. It was Grayson, their largest member.
“Think it’ll hold?” Remarked a Corporal to another from the nearest tree to the end of the rope, the name ‘HUNTER’ was present on his upper chest.
“How much you willing to bet the rope snaps, Hunter?” returned Badgers, the other Raider in question.
“Twenty if he manages to lift the tree at the root,” replied Hunter.
“Deal,” agreed Badgers.
There were times when it seemed like the rope would snap when Gray paused at points during his rappel, but ultimately, he lowered himself to the ground unscathed. Hunter called into his comms to confirm with an eyewitness.
“Sergeant Dare, how’s the tree?” he asked.
There was a pause but Darion replied to humor the two, “Lifted.”
Badger snapped his fingers in frustration at his loss of twenty credits. It wasn't much, in the grand scheme of things, but it could have bought a decently hot meal.
“Focus you two,” Strega commanded.
“Aye Sarn’t,” replied the two, returning their posture outward towards the forest. But as fate would have it, their heads would be rocked by the force of a large hand from behind. Grayson had delivered a sobering blow to the two Raiders.
From their insertion, they were roughly half a mile from the nearest edge of town. O’Brian ordered their march, and silently the squad advanced, making so much as muffled dull thuds into the earth. Whatever form they could do to maintain noise discipline, they did. Picking up their feet and not dragging them was a big one, as was rolling on the balls of the feet while maintaining how hard they applied pressure for each step. However, it was only when they approached close to the residential area did they take more care in their steps.
When they reached the town, they were met with a small hill, with the top of the hill inhabited by the backyards of the residents.
“Dare, you got eyes on?” questioned O’Brian. Dare scanned the lower half of the town of where they would likely approach from.
“I have you. One sentry patrolling at the top of the hill above you,” replied Dare. O’Brian peeked from their location and noticed the head of an armored Sellian. The top portion was outlined in red, as did his motion sensor on the bottom left of his Heads Up Display.
“Hold. I think they’re talking to someone,” O’Brian ordered.
Each helmet donned by the Orbital Drop Raiders was designed to dampen or enhance sounds to further increase their effectiveness as soldiers. Large sounds like explosions and gun fire were lessened while low and quiet sounds, like speech and footsteps were enhanced. O’Brian had managed to pick up what seemed to be nearing the end of a conversation.
“I’m telling you, I don’t see why we have to be out here. It’s a waste of time, and for what? Uh huh. Yea. I know… Like I said, We don’t need all of us here. I’d be better put to use at the War Council. At least there, they have defenses…”
O’Brian made sure to take note of the unfiltered intel, especially of the War Council and its defenses. The unsuspecting guard mentioned an automated sentry system in place, along with an experimental shield device that the guard didn’t fully understand but gave it high praise.
“Alright, I’m gonna cut comms. I think an elder’s starting to get annoyed with me. I’ll check back in thirty.”
From Dare’s sight, he made aware of the status of the guard, “Our buddy just took a seat, looks like he’s just started to chow down.”
“He’s in our way. Get rid of him,” ordered O’Brian.
Dare fired a single round, and with the dull thud sound of what sounded like snapping plastic, the guard slumped where he sat. An opened, unfinished meal sat in his lap, still warm from a built-in thermal reaction.
“Clear,” replied Dare. The rest of the squad moved up with their weapons trained while O’Brian investigated the remains of the enemy combatant.
They wore armor that felt like reinforced plastic than anything. He looked behind it and noticed a thin layer of metal inserted into the chest and back portions of the armor. It was less than .3 inches in thickness and the round of Darion’s shot went through it like paper, but the rest of the armor was supplemented with soft body armor, similar to creations in the past. The armor here was not the same as the ones seen on Draxis. It had a simplistic and cheap make in addition to the armor only having a thickness of a tenth of an inch while this was one was specialized for a certain group. The helmet was the as well. It was similar in concept to many human helmets, and it gave him a feeling that these may be some form of special forces.
The rest of the squad had moved along the walls of the hedges and stopped before a well lit central roadway. A small thigh-high hedge acted as a barrier that O’Brian, Grayson, and Strega took concealment behind as they laid on their backs, minimizing their silhouette. Noticing several red dots on his motion sensor, he called for another recon.
“Dare,” he spoke, ensuring that he filtered no external communications, “What do we have now?”
Darion’s vantage point had the best to offer regarding their target. He could see O’Brian, Grayson, and Strega side by side behind a small hedge while the rest of the squad were situated behind them along the hedges. Their insertion point acted like an alleyway of greenery. He scanned the area and reported back.
“Got one in an overlook to your eleven-thirty. Two by the home’s entrance and one near the back of the house. The other five should be resting in the target's home.”
“Copy,” O’Brian pointed to four Raiders, Hunter included, “Flank the right and get prepped to infiltrate the home.”
They nodded and silently moved around to a flanking position. O’Brian ordered the remaining three to take a flanking route on the left, “Watch our left flank and make sure there are no surprises,” to which they nodded and departed.
He now looked at Gray and Strega who both took a position with their suppressed rifles at the two facing the door. They had activated their weapon’s infra-red laser and with their active HUD, a line was traced from their weapons to the heads of the unsuspecting guards. O’Brian did the same with the guard who leaned against a tree near the back of the house. The same was done for the guard who was situated on an overlook above the house on a worn path overgrown with weeds.
“Badger, on my signal, take out the lights for a path,” Badger nodded and readied his rifle. O’Brian marked their targets, revealing their distances and giving the others time to compensate.
“Two targets, fifty meters. Third target, seventy-nine, meters. Dare?” said O’Brian.
“One-thousand-sixty-two,” he replied.
Satisfied, O’Brian made the kill order, “Engage.”
Dare was the first to fire. His shot took about a second before connecting with the guard on the overlook. O’Brian fired and landed a well-placed shot to the head and his target fell back against the tree, stumbling, before ceasing any signs of life. Two more sets of shots were quickly followed by Gray and Strega, respectively, as well as the overhead lamp lights leading to their target’s home. The two near the entrance were shot twice in the chest and one in the head, as the front portion of their bodies effectively faced them, they were ideal target practice.
“Bogies down,” reported Strega.
“Waste of ammo, if you ask me,” said Grayson, in a disappointed tone, “Should have woken up the whole town and tell ‘em we’re here. I want more than this.”
“We can’t afford that right now, Gray. You’ll have your fun later, right sir?” Strega replied, to which O’Brian responded, “Next phase will be mechanized. From then on, it’ll be open season.” Grayson was pleased with the response and promise of a true gunfight, as stealth was his least favorite activity.
Their new path seemed like a hallway of darkness compared to the rest of the street, but they quickly utilized it. Badgers moved the bodies by the entrance and placed them into a container on the side of the house.
Regarding the house itself, it was a small abode that fit perfectly for a family of four. However, he knew that as guards for a General’s wife, they couldn’t sleep in the same area. That proved to be the case when he picked up motion on the left side of the house.
It was a garage attached to the home. It was moderately sized, and the main door suggested that they could house two vehicles. From his sensors alone, he figured that they are within the space as the vehicle and that they only have the one. This was reinforced by the worn tread on only one side of the driveway. He pointed to the garage signing that there should be five individuals using it as their resting area.
O’Brian moved to the side and found a side door with a small window. He would move close to it and peered in, letting his HUD highlight any object within its view. With a quick scan, he counted a total of five sleeping guards.
He then checked for the door’s security but found it unlocked. ‘Poor fools,’ he thought as the door slowly swung out towards him, providing ambient light to the room.
They slept in black suits that went under the armor they had set aside on a nearby table. Their beds were orderly, which made it easier for O’Brian and Strega to move through. Without wasting much time, both individuals holstered their weapons and drew their knife that was in a holster on their lower back.
With a quick yet powerful thrust, they pierced the center of their throat to the spine, severing its connection. The first didn’t react as much but the second one did. Noticing something deathly wrong, the resting soldier tried to fight O’Brian off by extending his arms and pressing against his chest plate. The weight against him was minimal. They were small, and their body mass was much less than an average human of the same height; therefore, it was easy for him to maintain bodily control over the enemy.
Not trying to raise a verbal alarm, O’Brian placed his left hand over the struggling Sellian and drove the knife into their neck, piercing it from the side. The excess of the knife made its way through the neck and revealed a bloodied tip protruding from the other side of where he drove it in. In seconds, the Sellian ceased movement. Noticing that all five were taken care of, he ordered the two male raiders their next set of orders.
“Badgers, Gray. Hide the bodies and clean up any mess. Stay quiet,” They nodded and began their work.
“Did we have to assassinate them in their sleep?” spoke Strega, her tone hushed yet empathetic.
“They know we’re at war. They just didn’t expect us to be on their doorstep. Doesn’t mean you get to sit around until you’re told that the enemies are at the gates. They most likely would have done the same to us if they found a camp of sleeping Raiders,” he replied, searching the corpses for any intel they could use. When he found what seemed like something worth it, he placed it in one of his many pouches secured around his lower back. It was a device unlike many of the other wireless focused ones, being instead an archaic form of a recorder.
Strega understood what he meant, the horrors of war and the decisions made to meet an objective. She would continue to do her job until fate decided otherwise. Until then, she would follow her Lieutenant to hell and back.
“Besides, you know what they did, so don’t go easy on ‘em,” She simply returned a nod, her purple visor reflecting what little light bounced off the nearby surfaces.
“Hunter, prepare to breach, quietly,” O’Brian ordered, stacking himself near the door with Strega in tow.
“Aye sir,” he responded.
With hushed tones, O’Brian ordered their infiltration, “Breach, breach, breach.” Hunter returned in a hushed response,“Breaching.”
He then opened the door that let into the laundry room. His weapon was slightly lowered below his sight line as he cleared his section of the house. Hunter, and the other Raiders that accompanied him, met at the base of the stairs. He directed they go up, while he would check what he assumed to be the kitchen. It had a door and light filtered through the bottom. As they made their way up the stairs, he looked to the bottom left of his internal HUD.
For a moment, there was a yellow indicator on his motion detector before it briefly stopped a couple of feet from the door. O’Brian directed his right ear to the door to pick up any noise that could indicate who it might be.
Then they spoke, “Oh, my dear. I wish you would hurry and return, Tor.” It was the wife.
He notified Strega, who stood behind him, of the single occupant and told them to get ready. Before he opened the door, however, she began to move toward him, calling out for someone familiar.
“Alesa, is that you dear?” She called out to her daughter, “I thought I told you not to come downstairs until morning-”
She opened the door, this time with a face she did not recognize. She stood frozen with fear, trying to force out words that chose not to come.
O’Brian had previously readied his sidearm and pressed it against her stomach. He let her back to the table that was behind her, motioning her to sit, as he already took a seat for himself. When she refused to move, Badger forced her down on the chair by pressing down on her shoulder. With that force, her legs gave out, likely from shock. Trying to calm her down, O’Brian removed his helmet and sat it in front of him, his sidearm still trained on her.
“Let’s, have a chat, shall we?” said O’Brian, coldly.
The Sellian female before him had long hair that was wrapped up in a messy top-bun. She adorned a well-made set of jewelry that rested on her head with a matching necklace. Both took the shape of graciously decorated flowers.
The dress she wore was a pale white and looked similar to a sundress with a distinct ‘V’ cut for the neck; paired with sleeves, similar to a kimono, that ran to the mid-portion of her forearms. The mid-shoulder was exposed, as what was probably intentionally, and she wore a bright red sash on her mid-torso that wrapped around just below her breasts.
Her skin looked well-taken care of and was the color of pastel violet with amethyst markings, with her eyes mirroring her skin. Instead of rounded ears like his own, Sellians had ears that were pointed. There was some fur visible on the back that resembled the color of their hair with the tips sprouting with fur like the tips of cat ears.
They were significantly different from a human’s. Instead of a single Iris color making the most color aside from the sclera, they had two rings of color, a thin bright ring, and a pastel inner iris. Their pupils were also different in that they had the same circular look, but on the top and bottom were two barely connected sets of pupils that ended up making their pupils resemble that of a feline from a distance. It wasn’t jarring to O’Brian, but he found them to be a strangely beautiful occurrence of nature.
“You can relax. I don’t intend to hurt you,” O’Brian said in a comforting tone, trying not to raise his voice.
“Then tell me,” fear apparent as she spoke, “what are you doing in my home and what happened to the guards that were supposed to protect me?”
“Dead,” he said bluntly, “And you will too, if you don’t cooperate.”
She swallowed in response to his words. She mustered what courage she had to maintain conversation, “What of my children?”
“They will be taken care of,” he said, her face growing sullen. Knowing what she might be thinking, he added a statement to ease her worry.
“We don’t intend to separate you three. As long as you do as I say. Now, I almost forgot, what is your name?”
She sat quiet for a moment, reluctant to answer, but did so eventually, “Aleska Talesk…”
O’Brian was confused about the last name, “Talesk? First I’m hearing of a surname,” he shot a look to Strega who only shook her head in denial.
“It’s my family name, first of my generation,” responded the Sellian woman.
“Oh? How do surnames work for the Sellian people?” he inquired.
“We…our people conjoin names of husband and wife and that name becomes our family name. Our children inherit it, but their names will, too, change when they grow and find a partner, should they be wed.” It was interesting knowledge for O’Brian, how their last names were chosen.
“How about you?” she asked a man in thought, his attention now refocused on her.
“We usually end up with the paternal’s family name, and as such, usually gets passed down from son to son when they marry. Some have even opted to take their partner’s name instead, or occasionally, they hyphenate,” he replied. He could tell by her expression that the concept was foreign, but not inconceivable.
“Then, before I answer more of your questions, may I request one from you?” she said with pleading eyes. O’Brian nodded, urging her to continue, “What do you intend to do after you’ve sent me and my children away? What of my people?”
O’Brian sat, his face cold with emotion as he stared into the eyes of Aleska, unnerving her the longer he stared, until he finally broke his silence.
“To topple an empire,” he said bluntly.
She blinked with an exasperated expression, processing his answer, “B-but that means to wholly remove the heart and soul of all of Sella!”
He rocked his head in affirmation, “That’s right,” he replied, leaning back into his chair, “Want to know why we’re here?” he said casually, now resting his sidearm pointed away from Aleska. She nodded in response.
“We know who you are and who you're connected to, married to, in fact. There’s plenty of what we could do with you, but that’s not why. To us, you’re nothing but a side quest for a concerned citizen. No harm will come to you or your kids, you have my word.”
Aleska visibly relaxed at his words. Seeing her reaction, he called for an individual who waited just outside the door, “However, if you jeopardize my mission, I will not hesitate to shoot you. Hunter, bring them in.”
With not even five seconds to feel safe, she immediately tensed to his threat. Hunter entered the door with two children in front of them. At the sight of their mother, they ran and met her at the waist. Tears of joy overturned their initial feelings of fear, likely from being woken up by unfamiliar faces.
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“Muhmmy!” cried the young boy.
“Momma! I’m scared!” cried the daughter.
Aleska caressed them as she held them close, “Don’t worry, my darlings. Everything will be alright,” She directed a knowing glance to O’Brian, to which he nodded in response.
As she tried to settle the kids, alarms blared that surrounded the neighborhood. O’Brian put his helmet on, meeting the gaze of the kids, their faces returned to fear. However, he had already figured why they returned to their previously frightened state; his helmet held the gaze of a demon with a large smile with knives for teeth. Of course, the design wasn’t intended to be used with an audience of children.
“What’s that alarm?” Inquired O’Brian to Aleska.
“An evacuation notice. There should be shuttles arriving to the nearby landing platforms not far from here-”
A series of knocks sounded from the entrance and O’Brian and his team instinctively readied their rifles toward the direction of the noise. Strega positioned herself behind the family and Badger, Hunter, and his team hid themselves away in the living room behind the furniture and away from the windows, their weapons at the ready.
“Miss Aleska!” A muffled call sounded from the entrance as they continued knocking, “Miss Aleska! Are you awake? We need to leave!”
“Gray, status,” he called over his squad’s voice input communications.
“Me and some of the boys had to ditch when the alarms rang. We’re back by the hill we infilled from, but you have an elderly couple at the door.”
“Damn,” O’Brian cursed. He wasn’t expecting an alarm to sound, but he was thinking that he could use it to aid them in their mission. He then turned to Aleska amidst the constant calling of the couple outside.
“Talk to them,” said O’Brian. She was surprised at his suggestion and inquired what he wanted her to say, “And what exactly do you want for me to tell them? My guards are dead and the people who killed them are in my home?”
“Not exactly,” He gave her a quick rundown before she made her way to the door. O’Brian closed the door to the kitchen with Strega and the kids, and he followed closely behind the ever-growing anxious Aleska. She opened the door to the point where she only revealed half of her body and little of the internal entryway.
“Y-yes?” she replied meekly.
“Oh! Finally!” spoke a woman, “We thought you wouldn’t wake up, even with the alarms. Are you and the kids ready to leave?”
Aleska shook her head, “N-no, Miss Kalio, we have orders from the guards to stay put.”
“They’re usually here at the door, no? Where could they have gone?” replied the elderly Sellian.
“T-they’re retrieving a personal shuttle, Miss Kalio. Reserved for a Chief-Commander or higher, they said,” she replied with a nervous and shy laugh.
O’Brian hid by the door and leveled his sidearm to Aleska’s waist, adding increased pressure to make her aware that she had a gun pointed directly at her and that if she screamed, he would shoot her. She fidgeted at first when he pressed it against her but maintained composure in front of the elderly couple.
“Don’t worry,” she reassured, “I have some of the guards here at home. Now go, or you’ll miss your shuttle!”
“Are you sure? We can take little Torlin and Alesa for you to the bunkers,” spoke the elderly man.
“It’s fine, Mister Porlo, really. You should leave now, I don’t want the guards to think you’re one of those rebels, do you?” They recoiled at the possibility of being called a rebel.
“Those freaks?! Come with, Kali! Let us not waste any more of dear Aleska’s time,” Porlo grabbed his wife by the wrists and quickly led her away, offering a slight bow before turning to the bustling road of departing residents.
“Dear, surely you can’t be serious. Rebels, here? …” Their conversation trailed off until they disappeared down the main road and Aleska closed the door, taking in a large breath.
“Rebels?” questioned O’Brian.
“There has been talk of some outer colonies rebelling against the words of the Council,” she started, “But it’s said that they put a stop to it as quickly as it started…”
“What were they rebelling against?” he asked. He leaned against the nearby wall perpendicular to the door that Aleska rested on.
“There was apparently footage taken from the front lines of Sellian troops taking…Terrans, as slaves…”
She said the name with a sympathetic tone, her expression now solemn and joyless, “Is…is that true?” He lowered his side arm and holstered it on his right thigh and nodded. Her expression now reflecting sadness.
“I'm sorry… For what my people have caused, truly.”
O’Brian holstered his sidearm and placed his right hand on the grip of his rifle, resting it over his chest, “It wasn’t your decision. Besides, we already know who did.”
She was taken aback by his response, but she likely knew who he meant. Fearing the worst, she decided to refrain from speaking out.
“We’ll wait until the town is clear, in the meantime,” O’Brian led Aleska to the couch of her living room followed by her two children playing with the helmet less Strega.
“You and your kids will stay here while we keep an eye on you. If you require something, let us know. I’ll send for covers to keep you warm.”
She nodded at his hospitality, even though he occupied her home. He gave the blankets to the children and Aleska from Badgers and the two children were quick to sleep.
“Get some sleep. You’re gonna have a long ride ahead of you.”
She was slow to sleep, but not long before her exhaustion took her, with a protective loving embrace wrapping her children close.
When morning came, Aleska awoke from her slumber. She looked at O’Brian who sat on a chair facing out the window, then to her sides. Noticing the lack of pressure, she hurriedly removed the blankets that currently covered her. She found nothing.
She then returned a gaze to the sitting O’Brian, his helmet off, as he ate into a protein bar that she didn’t recognize, “M-my kids! Where are they!”
O’Brian raised his left hand in a calming motion and directed her attention to the kitchen, its door open and the sounds of laughter erupted from it.
Her anxiety slightly lowered, but her instinct as a mother wouldn’t allow her to write off her feelings unless she had visual confirmation of their well-being. She stood from her seat, fixing her dress, before making her way to the kitchen, with O’Brian in tow.
When she entered, she noticed a considerably large man playing with her son, as he continued showing the Terran his toys and making noises with his mouth, mimicking the sounds of ship thrusters and explosions. Her son seemed captivated by the Terran.
Next, she directed her attention to the female Terran behind her daughter as they drew on a personal entertainment device. She was deep in concentration when she glanced for a moment at the door to the kitchen, her expression lighting up at the appearance of her mother.
“Momma!” Alesa said, leaving her seat and taking the pad with her.
At the call of his sister, Tor reacted in the same manner, leaving Gray to his devices and lone toy gifted by the Sellian child. She caressed them, holding them tight. She asked them what they were doing, leading Alesa to tell of their morning.
“First we woke up, and we were hungry, so we asked miss Elizabeth, and she made us food! It was so good!” replied the young girl.
Aleska directed a gaze at the female, then to the sink and noticed her large pans were stacked upon each other. Evidenced with water, told her that after cooking, they had cleaned up after themselves. Taking a moment, she did notice a fragrance that wafted in the air.
Alesa, noticing this, ran to the counter top where another one of O’Brian’s men leaned against the counter. Badgers handed a wrapped plate to the young girl who happily took it and trotted back to her mother, who took it.
The scene was surreal for her. She sat on a free chair and began to eat her food. O’Brian speculated that she liked the food, as indicated by an increased pace of her eating.
“Slow down, now,” warned Strega, “We don’t need an accident.” Aleska slowed her chewing, savoring its flavor. As she continued to eat, tears began forming on the corners of her eyes.
“Why are you crying, momma?” Alesa was the first to ask, followed by her youngest, “Is muhmmy sad?”
“I’m fine, dearest. Now run along with our new friends. I need to speak with, uhm-” she began.
“O’Brian,” he said, responding swiftly.
“Yes, mister O’Brian. I need to speak with him alone. I'm sure miss Elizabeth would be willing to play with you both, yes?” she suggested. Strega nodded and led the children out of the kitchen, who then took charge and led her upstairs, along with Gray and Badgers.
After finishing her meal, she turned to O’Brian who took a seat across from Aleska, “What will happen to us? To my children?”
“They’ll be with you, the whole way. You’ll all be safe,” her expression grew grim. To her, it was like she was abandoning, not just her people, but her husband. To flee with the enemy would likely be considered treason by the War Council. How they got information on her, that was something she wanted to know.
“Mister O’Brian,” she started, gauging his reaction. When he remained expressionless, she continued.
“May I ask who put you up to this? Is that something I can ask?” O’Brian nodded, giving a smirk.
“It’s not like my boss gave the request, so I wouldn’t mind telling you,” he relaxed his position in his chair, making direct eye contact with Aleska, slightly unnerving her, “Tell me, you have any living relatives?”
She thought seriously for the moment as she tried to name off her family. She stated her obvious parents, but they lived on another part of the continent. She said she had cousins and extended family but most had lost contact some years ago or just disappeared. She stated that when it came to her family, she didn’t have a relationship with them besides her parents, and then a realization dawned on her, “Did… you meet with my elder brother, Gruda?”
O’Brian nodded, “We met him on Verbus. Had the gall to approach an armed escort, though, I’ll give ‘em that,” He laughed, reminiscing their first encounter with Gruda as a pseudo ambassador for the Sellians as well as a trove of cultural and military knowledge.
“Is… is he alive?” she choked, fearing the worst.
“He’s alive,” he replied, “Said he’d help us if we ‘move his sister and her kids’ off-world. So, here we are.” He gave a wink, extending his arms in wide fashion, emphasizing his presence.
“Thank the Fathers,” she said, clasping her hands together in a praying motion, “He… did always care for me. I had thought he perished some time ago. To think he made his way all the way to Verbus…” Her tone was melancholic but filled with a warm memory as she recalled the times she spent with him before he left.
“In any case, I appreciate your hospitality, even though it is my home,” she gave a courteous bow, pulling her dress to the sides, widening it.
“It’s no problem,” he replied, beckoning her to stop her bow, “You don’t seem too hurt at the fact that your guards aren’t around. Why is that?” Her face grew angry at the mention. Her brow furrowed, crinkling the space in between.
“I’ve held no love for our military,” she started, “I’m grateful for the work they do on our border, but with what I have seen on the net, I can’t feel anything apart from disgust. To think my husband would do that…”
“You mentioned a name before, Tor?” probed O’Brian, in a curious tone.
“Torlak, my husband…” she replied.
Earlier, when his squad shortly arrived at the Sella system, he received an encrypted message from none other than the General of the Raiders, Titus Brooke. It was during one of their interrogations that the name was dropped and was made as a target marked for capture. However, O’Brian had other plans intended for the enemy’s general equivalent.
“I know of him. He’s a Chief-General, correct?” He asked.
She nodded, “The highest and only title for those tasked to wage war, as ordered by the War Council. They are solely responsible for commanding our armies.”
That name again. He had heard it several times, and it was essentially the governing body for the Sellian people. By its name alone, he made an educated guess that they were continuously locked in a war, long before the Terrans showed up, with the Galactic Union as mentioned by a Gruda some time ago.
“Do you think that they would be the ones to initiate the order to slaughter my people?” he questioned. His words were coarse but they rang true. Aleska confirmed as such with a nod of her head.
“The Chief-General must abide by their will. Should he deny them…” She trailed off, not wanting to finish her sentence, but she regained her courage and continued, “Then their family would be executed…”
He could hear her voice choke at the mention. Her knees collapsed under their weight but O’Brian supported her by placing his arm on her back gently. She seemed as if she had fallen ill from the realization alone. It saved him giving her the drive he had found, detailing their exact course of action should the mighty Chief-General fall, in explicit detail. But he decided to withhold that, to save her from further despair, and for Wolf to make use of it for later.
“They… would have killed my entire family!” she raised her voice involuntarily, “That’s why they were here! There’s no need to watch over the wife of a Chief-Commander, let alone a General!”
Tears began streaming down her face at the realization of the troops around her home. They would have executed Aleska and her children, or taken them elsewhere and only say that they followed orders. It would have been a fate worse than death, which O’Brian and his team inadvertently prevented.
“When did they arrive?” he asked, patting her on the back caringly.
“Thank you,” she placed her weight on O’Brian as she tried to regain her balance, “Just shortly after my husband left for the out colonies, a little over a month ago. That was the first we had been sent guards.”
After O’Brian and his team first arrived on-planet, Aleska and her home were already in the presence of her guard. He had expected there to be more to the group for protecting the wife of a General of the Empire, but that appeared not to be the case.
After regaining her footing, she returned to the floor, this time in a prostrating posture, and apologized to O’Brian, “On behalf of my people, I can do nothing but apologize for what my husband and the Council have allowed to commit against our stellar neighbors.”
Her figure laid over her own as she rested on her legs and bent her torso forward while placing her hands in front of her head as her forehead touched the ground. It was similar to apologetic postures of the oriental cultures back home.
“If taking my life is too light a punishment, then I offer my body…” O’Brian rested a hand on her shoulder and she flinched at his touch.
“Raise your head,” he spoke in a soft and comforting tone, “You shouldn’t resign your life so easily like that. You should not have to bear the punishment for the actions of another,” he said, lending a hand for her to grab, which she took, and he propped her up once more. Her expression was one of embarrassment, but O’Brian overlooked her earlier prostration and continued where he left off, “Besides, you have children to look to, and I’m not trying to be a father anytime soon.”
Clarity rushed Aleska, and she was aware of her recent actions, bowing and apologizing profusely before he made her stop once more.
“I will need something else from you, however,” he said.
“I will do my best to assist, Mister O’Brian.” she replied, slowly regaining her composure.
“I need you to write a note to your husband, that you’re being taken to a secure bunker. If he thinks you’re safe, then that’ll make it easier for me and my troops.”
She nodded and began writing her letter. In the meantime, O’Brian ordered his squad to secure the surrounding homes and dumped the bodies of the guards, out of the vision of the children.
When Aleska finished her letter, Strega scanned it for translation, checking if she input a secret phrase of code that could jeopardize their mission. If she was playing with them, then he wasn’t sure if he could stop himself from putting a bullet in her and dropping the children on an outer colony planet. When Strega confirmed that the letter was code free, he washed away the thoughts as quickly as he generated them.
“Where now?” Aleska asked. He directed them to outside the home.
“Are leaving, momma?” Alesa asked as she stepped out onto the paved entrance walkway.
She nodded, “We’re all going on a trip on a new ship!” The mention of a new ship sparked the young boy’s intrigue as he began a rapid exchange of questions, with Gray easily answering them as fast as they came.
“If everything goes smooth, you’ll be off planet in the next hour,” said O’Brian.
They had to wait no longer than a few minutes before a ship approached from their overlook camp. The awe of the children was apparent as the ship approached closer to their location and decelerated, orienting its self so that the rear ramp faced them and opened.
The ship was called a Vulture, but the one at their disposal was a stealth variant. It started off as a gunship as its primary role with stealth as the secondary trait. However, it was fast for its size and it held a small accompaniment of troops. With the ramp open, two figures hung on the side of the ramp as the ship leveled itself and mad a short landing, with the ramp about twenty feet from where they stood.
Darion exited the ramp, including his spotter, as soon as it was fully extended, “Welcome back, Dare,” said O’Brian.
“Rah,” he grunted in response and made his way to the back of the group and his spotter reunited with others of similar rank, exchanging stories of the most recent events. Darion carried with him an OD Olive colored bag that was nearly the length of his person, just below his left pauldron. O’Brian had an idea of what it was in it, as Dare still had his Marksman Rifle slung across his chest.
After they were cleared, an air crewman, who stood behind Darion and his spotter, stepped off the ramp and stood before O’Brian, “Sir!” one of the air crewmen called out, directing a gaze to the first aliens he’s seen in his lifetime, “Are these the assets?”
“They are,” he replied, “Treat them well. They’re my guests.”
“Aye sir!” the air crewman pointed at the alien family and ordered them aboard, “You three! Let’s go!”
The young boy was the first to clear the ramp and choose a seat, followed by Alesa, both were supported by the crewman as they took their seats for the ride. Their embarkation was quick, leaving no time for a proper departure, but understood that it had to be this way. Aleska was the last to board, but she turned one more to the helmetless O’Brian, “Again, I’m sorry, for everything. I do wish we had met under better circumstances.”
“We probably wouldn’t have, but I could entertain the thought,” he replied, receiving a light chuckle from the woman.
“Perhaps. Until next time then, Mister O’Brian,” she said with a bow, wrapping her arms across her stomach, and took her seat slowly, like she had some pains in her lower back and abdomen. O’Brian then turned to Badgers and Hunter, who stood just a few feet away.
“Escort them and get them situated. Also, have medical take a look at the missus, she might have gotten sick in our proximity. One you’re done, come back here with the gunship,” ordered O’Brian.
“Air sir!” replied the crewman. They hopped on the ramp and the crewman waited until they were seated before signalling for the pilots to take off. The ramp closed during its ascent and rapidly gained speed from where it originally came and then pulled up, making a sharp incline, until it could no longer be seen with the naked eye.
With their first objective a success, and now he would move onto the next objective, “Gather ‘round, Raiders!” His troops encircled him, their attention now on their commander.
“We have the assets and once we receive word that they’re clear, we’ll move onto the next mission. Until then, get situated near the entrance to town. Get some cover and hunker down until I get more word. Clear?”
“Rah!” they replied in unison, making their way to the entrance of the town.
There were three ways one could enter the town that his scouts have found shortly after the town got deserted. There was an old road that took a route to their north that followed the bottom of the nearby mountains and hills to the nearest town. The second was two platforms sized for commercialized or military shuttles. This was the main route taken last night during the evacuation, some opting to take their personal vehicles and took the road north. The final entry point was by rail. His troops investigated it and found it operated similar to their rail system, using electromagnetics to propel it, but it was not used for the evacuation. From the signs surrounding the station, it indicated that the rail would lead straight into the heart of the capital city, or at least the inner edge of it.
All three of these forms were located near the north-eastern part of the town and was where the squad had split up their cover into the surrounding houses. Gray and three other Raiders took a large building that faced the main road and the shuttle pads. Another team of four white marked Raiders split up into teams of two into houses closer to the main town gate. Strega, Darion and O’Brian hold up in a building in full view of the rail station’s entrance as well as the main road that led to Aleska’s home. As per his orders, his troops maintained radio silence but spoke with their integrated proximity chat.
Strega laid her back against a wall as she peered out the nearby window, which was just short enough for her to view the top of the rail station platform. She set the curtains in a way where the sun would not land on her, and she could view it unimpeded.
Darion was in the same room, but he had moved a table near the window and placed his Series Ten Suppressed Marksman Rifle on the table with the bipod extended. In the same fashion, he situated himself to stay out of the sun while maintaining a clear view of both the landing zones and the main town entrance. The road was paved in parallel from their view and then took a left to Aleska’s home.
O’Brian sat right of the window but maintained cover completely as the sun would land on him, making him visible to a curious onlooker. Instead, he closed his portion of the curtains and let Strega and Dare keep watch.
“Any word from the admiral?” Strega spoke, her voice artificial sounding, from her helmet.
“A short transmission,” O’Brian replied, “Said they should be entering the system soon and that we’ll get our all clear, but never mentioned what it's gonna look like,” he relaxed into his chair, his rifle lapped over his chest.
“Did you put in a requisition? How are we gonna get to the main city?” Darion spoke. His posture was relaxed as his rifle stood on its bipod and maintained stability as he rested his chin on his wrists. His helmet was placed next to his feet by the leg of the table.
“Of course I did,” O’Brian confirmed, “Got us some Pumas, a couple of Rhinos, and to finish off, a couple of Grizzlies.”
Strega whistled at the order, noting her surprise, “I call dibs on a Puma! Dare, you got gunner?”
He shook his head, “Not this time. I'm taking my own ride, ain’t that right, sir?”
“Yours probably won't have the gun. A strict scout model. Quiet too,” Darion acknowledge his ride, but that also meant he was most likely going to have a spotter again.
For several hours, they made small banter when the digital signs of the rail station lit up with activity. By now, the weather had darkened, making the scene gray and the sounds of wind were picking up.
“Sir, rail system’s active,” Strega reported. Their attributed changed and the air surrounding them grew cold and silent, save for mother nature.
“Raiders, we might have a guest. Wake up and shut up,” transmitted O’Brian to all present troopers, breaking their previous bout of radio silence.
The rail car approached the station and with her helmet, Strega utilized a small zoom function incorporated into it that could give a binocular zoom of around five times magnification. It wasn't a function you would use in junction with a weapon that wasn’t equipped with a HUD link system module. Otherwise, it was just a set of expensive binoculars.
“I count one. Male, twenty-five to forty? I think they're wearing an officer uniform,” replied Strega.
O’Brian moved over to just above Strega and utilized the same function on his helmet. He matched it the description from Yorla and Gruda as well as information gathered from both Minerva and Athena; Chief-General Torlak.
“I have a shot Sir, should I disable him?” Darion sounded eager to fire as he positioned the rifle on his shoulder and looked into its scope, ready to land the blow.
“Permission denied. Let him walk,” replied O’Brian. Darion grumbled lightly and set the rifle on safe, but traced his reticle over the body of the Sellian.
O’Brian watched as Torlak wondered the streets of his town, now void of life. There were traces of left over luggage and trash overblown from open trash bins. He walked slow as he looked around, trying to find signs of life, but finding none. He travelled further down the road to the home of his wife and entered it, as witnessed by O’Brian, Strega and Darion.
“Think he’ll find the note?” Strega commented.
“If he doesn't, then he’s a terrible general,” replied Darion, keeping his rifle aimed in the direction of the house, “Remind me again, Sir. Why can’t I shoot the bastard?” he added, “Doesn’t that go against the General Titus’ direct order?”
O’Brian thought deep on that subject. He was well within his rights to capture the man who single-handedly started a war between their species. Who took captives and sent them to a fate worse than death itself. Of course, he wanted to execute him, but deep down, he wanted the one who started it, to watch their empire fall in front of him. To be in a position where he could act but could not defend what he needed to most.
It wasn’t his idea originally. The idea was brought to him in private from the Admiral and supplemented with statistics from both Minerva and Athena;
“You want me to do what?”
“Like I said, don’t kill him if you come across him,” Wolf repeated.
“I wasn’t told to kill him, only capture,” replied O’Brian.
“You’re not seeing it, O’Brian. There’s more to defeating an enemy than with a simple kill or capture order,” refuted wolf.
He was confused. What did he not get? What purpose was there in keeping a commanding general to continue to command? Would it not end the fight when one fit to lead is removed?
“Then enlighten me,” replied O’Brian, once more.
“First off, you know of the request made by Gruda?” started Wolf.
He nodded, “Of course, I was there.”
“Well, Minerva had scanned through some archives from their census bureau aboard Lassus station. Turn’s out they had more than we needed, and we also came across public records of well-known individuals,” O’Brian was following, urging Wolf to continue.
We have the public records of individuals personally related to Torlak. Just like Gruda said, a mother of two, Aleska Talesk. Secure her safety and fake a disappearance, but make it where she was sent to safety. Once you complete your objective, I’ll take care of the general, on equal footing, then we’ll strike…”
“… At his best, huh?” O’Brian said aloud, reminiscing of the memory. O’Brian found it mildly petty, but just as entertaining. To think that he would circumvent his general for the whims of an admiral of a rival branch. He found it Ironic, really, but decided to go with it. His primary mission was the capture of the War Council and Torlak was second to that. He could overlook Torlak’s presence here as he tried to give one farewell before the upcoming battle.
‘Sorry, she’s not here, bud,’ O’Brian thought to himself before he was called by Strega, directing his gaze out the window and over the landing pads.
“Contacts Sir. Two shuttles,” They were gray with a blue tint to the finish with white markings on the side of the door.
“What do they read?” he asked.
“Sellian Ground Troupe, Gander’s Fist” she replied.
“All that, and for what?” commented Darion, “It’s almost like painting a target on your unit’s back.”
When the shuttles made contact with the ground, the side doors opened, and a series of armored troopers exited the vehicle, their weapons drawn, and created a perimeter of the landing zone.
They wore similar armor to the guards from the night before, but instead of a white and black scheme, their armor was colored brown and dark gray, with a dark tan colored under suit. They also wore a helmet, but its construction differed from the troops prior. It had a more angled ‘V’ for the visor that was colored amber and instead of brown, the helmet was colored mostly gray. Markings decorated the forehead portion of the helmet to mimic their facial markings, in a glacial blue.
Their weapons were compact and still looked large compared to their frame. The rifle in question was unlike what they had seen previous and seemed specialized to them. It looked as if it had a large frontal portion of the barrel shroud that created a rectangle silhouette on top and bottom of where the barrel sits. The stock was connected as part of the weapon's frame with the magazine loaded in the rear for an overall bullpup style rifle.
Paired with that, they also wielded a side arm on their waist belt that looked like it was fired by hammer pull instead of the standard striker fired series of handguns the TRSC favored.
O’Brian had feared that the enemy had come to them in response to the evacuation or missing guard but the approaching Torlak revealed otherwise. Even with his enhanced hearing system, even he couldn't make out what Torlak was speaking with the lead trooper.
“Strega, see what you can find on their military. These guys look much different compared to previous infantry,” said O’Brian.
“I’ll note it, but from what I’ve seen, there might not be much of a difference,” she replied.
He understood what she meant, alluding to the investigation of the armor of the first sentry. At best, it could stop lower end calibers and maybe shrapnel, but would need a larger sample size. He would rather not underestimate any Sellian trooper he came across.
After a short exchange, Torlak went with the troopers and once all had entered their respective shuttles, the doors closed, and they took off towards the atmosphere. O’Brian would order his squad to wait several minutes to make sure they don’t do a second, or third pass and catch them just as they exit their cover. He didn’t exactly have the means to take down a shuttle with the weapons he had.
After he deemed it safe, and the shuttles had left, O’Brian received a message, the alarm originating from Athena’s storage device. He brought her up, meeting him just below eye level.
“Sir, I’ve received a notification from Vice Admiral Wolf for you,” she gave a bow, a developing habit for every first visual appearance.
“What’s it say?” O’Brian questioned.
“Simply a timer of twelve hours and forty-six minutes and the word; Descending,” replied Athena.
“Understood,” he said, placing her away back on his waist, “All teams, you have twelve hours and thirty minutes to rest. I suggest you take it. Keep at least one man on watch.”
“Aye, aye,” replied the squad.
O’Brian was now given a timeline for their assault. For when hell would finally break loose on their planet. He would rather not feel that way but deep down, he relished in what was about to come. The War Council would meet its end, and he was ecstatic he was picked to lead it. The Sellians had not known true ground war, and by tonight, they would…
… O’Brian would be woken up by an alarm he set just after his watch and he would be met with another darkened sky. Except this time, the day that had originally turned gray was now a clear and starry night. He took a moment to look up into the night sky and beside the flickering stars of other systems, were a mass of flashing lights that danced around erratically. The fight had begun.
“All hands! On me! Double time!!” he ordered. He exited his building with Strega and Darion behind him, their helmets donned, and their visage was that of a warrior eager for combat. When all had gathered, Strega lit a beacon that transmitted in experimental Delta-Band frequency, a rediscovered mode of encryptable communication, and strobing infra-red lights. She set the beacon in the center of the landing pads, which also connected to the main road, as the newly designated LZ.
O’Brian then addressed the group, “The time is now. We’re in enemy territory, deep behind enemy lines,” he pointed to the sky as countless lights flashed in and out of existence, the scene reflecting off their visors,
“It might not seem like much, but the squids above are fighting and dying as we speak! Against an enemy that has shown us no quarter! While we have shown compassion to their innocent, they enslaved our own! It’s now our time to bring the fight to their home. Not in space, but in their home! The Land, Air, and Sea! We have seen what they did to us over two systems, but we drove them back! And now we have delivered that retribution tenfold! Remember this moment! When humanity takes the capital of our first alien race! OO-RAH, RAIDERS?!”
“OO-RAH SIR!!” They replied in a visceral scream, enough to shatter the world itself. That was their will, and it wanted blood. And as their will, it would also grant them the means to enact their revenge when the whir of engines enveloped their area. It was a familiar sound that the Raiders had grown accustomed to in the field, the Kestrel. A ship designed for rapid field transit of vehicles, weapons, supplies and sometimes troops.
Its frame was essentially a rectangle attached to thrusters and a cockpit. The sides and rear walls of the box were raised into itself from the top revealing their cargo as they landed on the main road to disembark the cargo.
They were Pumas, lightly armored reconnaissance vehicles, with a rear gun attached, except for one. There were four in total and O’Brian’s squad commandeered them, driving them out of the Kestrel and onto the road where they were parked as the beginning of a convoy. Several of the lower enlisted Raiders stood by the vehicles, inspecting them for damage, ammo, and fuel.
The next wave consisted of four Kestrels, their heavy variant, which had a larger cargo space for the next vehicle to disembark, the Rhino. It’s a six-wheeled armored personnel carrier with a 25 mm cannon atop it with an addition remote controlled .50 caliber machine gun and two of them were delivered. As they parked behind the Puma’s, the rear doors of the APC's opened, revealing more troops to supplement his attack force, a total of twenty-four additional troops. They reported to their officer in command, O’Brian.
They were two squads of Raptor Company that had stayed behind during both the attack on Lassus station and O’Brian's current mission. It was safe to say that since Draxis, they were eager to enter combat.
Before returning to their vehicles, O’Brian called out to the squad leader of bravo squad, Sergeant O’Clair, “What’s the status in orbit? I would imagine that it was difficult to get you all through their barricade.”
“To be honest sir,” she started, “It was chaos aboard the assault carrier. Their defenses are top-notch, but…”
“But? What happened?” he asked.
“What you might expect. Our escort ships protecting our ship were destroyed, and our assault carrier took heavy damage. Lost a lot of the pods in the fight,” she responded. Her expression was sadness, fueled by anger. Not just from the slaughter of our sailor cousins, but of our fellow Raider brothers and sisters. Hearing the damaged to his beloved ship welled up anger within him that he felt rising in his chest, but he collected himself in front of his trooper.
“I understand, will she be operational if we need Raider support?” he inquired.
She nodded, “We lost some pods, but not the spirit. Those who don't have a pod should be getting shuttled to a ship that has extra.”
He was pleased to hear that they could get reinforcements, but it might be some time before they could actually call on them. He hoped that the Vice Admiral would take that into account when it came to the siege of the city. He was going to need it.
“Return to your squad, Once we get the heavy armor, we’re departing, copy?” said o’Brian.
“Yes sir,” she rendered a salute, as did he, and she returned to her squad besides the APC she arrived in. The final two Kestrels to arrive were much different in condition, compared to the previous six. These were larger, but there was also considerable damage with smoke emitting from one of the dorsal panels.
“Kestrel one-three-one, you have smoke on your back,” advised O’Brian, but the pilot returned a quip, disregarding the damage report, “Well aware. But she’ll make it. She always does.”
He cut the comms and the doors to the cargo compartment opened, revealing a large vehicle with two sets of treads and a 130 mm cannon on top loaded with all kinds of rounds made to decimate tank and cover alike. It was the Grizzly. The two Grizzlies rolled out from the cargo hold and onto the shuttle landing pads, the hard and sharp ting of gears and mechanical engineering heard with its engine.
It was a miracle that they came out unscathed. This rose their combat effectiveness to a new height and morale was boosted among the Raiders who saw it, sharing their awe as the two battle tanks made their way to their spots in the convoy. One tank in front, the two APCs in the center and the final tank in the rear. Two pumas would exist out of the convoy as their element.
O’Brian would take his seat as the passenger of Strega’s puma, and Gray would man the gun of the second puma beside them in the front of the convoy.
“All hands, this is your Lieutenant,” he said, projecting into the command channel that all in his squad had access to receive.
“This is it. Check your gear, check your ammo, and follow your training. Recon team, survey the main road and check for any unpaved roads. Look for any emplacements we need to worry about. Main armor, once hostiles are revealed, you have full execute authority.”
A series of acknowledgement was heard from the drivers. They weren’t from his company, but they were attached. That made them his to look out for, but with guns of their size, he wasn’t worried. With his assessment and accountability of his current force, he ordered their advance, the sounds of engines and treads filling the air.
“Raptor Company, move out!” And in turn, they replied, “OO-RAAH!!”