We dropped out of hyperspace straight into the orbital firefight. Ships everywhere- Dalek saucers and Draconian craft, which are more your basic Buck Rogers rocketship. Dragons were getting the worst of it. We lost Bravo Team right away- slammed into a wrecked cruiser before they could manoeuvre. Ships, missiles and beam weapons going every which way, and we were right in the middle of it. I lay back in the shock-gel and got ready to fire. Strictly tail-covering. We weren't engaging, just diving right for the planet.
Xi Draconis 4 looked like toast already. Mushroom clouds all across the daylight side, cities flaring and going dark one by one in the night. I burnt the sensors off a saucer that was getting a little too friendly. "Ghita? Are you sure there's even still a city where we're going?"
"Yes. Word is, the Daleks want the target too. Now, cut the chatter, Ace."
Even through the gel I felt the shock as we hit atmosphere. I switched from tactical to visible light, got a lovely view of Charlie Team streaking down beside us, a thousand-mile shock trail across the sky. Then some kind of ground defence swatted Charlie like a bug. Samson cursed vilely and threw us hard to the left. The indigo beam flashed twice more, further away each time. The sun dipped below the horizon, which was rising fast. Lights of a city, un-nuked. Nice one, Ghita. Streaks of Dalek landing craft coming in hot behind us. Samson slammed the retros on hard enough to pulp any unprotected human, and we descended into the Hepsarn Kadalken Institute on a slanting pillar of fire.
The gel drained, wasting precious seconds. "Nailed it!" whooped Samson. "Right in the courtyard!" I flashed a high-five into his head-up display, but concentrated on securing all my gear to my still-sticky armour.
"Time to go- and we've got company already!" called Ghita. We groaned. "Five at three o'clock." The drop hatches swung open. I lobbed a pulse-bomb down mine, and leaped after it. The Daleks were still sparking and spasming from the EMP when we blew them open with plasma grenades. Textbook.
Samson and Elbows secured the landing zone and the rest of us moved in. Through a deserted dining hall, then into the standard maze of identical white corridors. At least, I think they were white- hard to tell in night vision. There were dozens of labs, all huge, weird and identified only in Draconian. Plenty of tall, scaly dudes with big heads, all of them dead on the floor. Scientists, mainly. We hit Dalek scouts twice more. Only small parties- the Institute's military guard must have put up quite a fight before they were all exterminated. The second patrol bushwacked us, masking their EM signatures by staying close to some kind of crazy particle-accelerator thing. They got Malc and Sian. They nearly got me too.
We took five while I talked to my armour, which kept trying to punch itself 'cos of a fried servo motor. Cheapskate junk. Kofi reckoned we were practically on top of the target. "According to the map, we should've passed the top of the stairs fifteen meters back. Must be a hidden door." So we (quietly) prodded and rattled and punched anything that might conceal the entrance. Found it in the floor of a biohazard suit closet: a hatch leading to a steep, narrow staircase.
"Good Dalek-proofing," said Kofi. Daleks can climb stairs, but they're pretty bad at it. This gave us a defensible choke-point, so we left Ch'rrb inside the closet with a meson rifle as he was the smallest. Trouble is, full armour is also pretty bad in tight spaces. We made it most of the way down before someone tripped and we all hit the bottom in a clanking, cursing heap of space marine. Serves me right for turning buckethead.
It was brightly lit down there. Before us was one of those fun airlock/carwash combos. It was set in a long wall of armoured glass, glistening with forcefields and displaying Draconian biohazard symbols. Beyond lay the target: a lab with the particular kinds of weird alien equipment we'd been shown back in the briefing. There were a handful of Draconians in pale green lab-coats, looking about as upset as Draconians are able to, which is not very. And some vivisected Daleks, not looking so tough with their cases sawn open and all the blobby stuff on display.
I sighed. One more detail: waiting by the airlock there was a silly little man with an umbrella hooked over his arm, looking altogether too pleased with himself. He picked up the intercom. "Ah, hello, Ace. So glad you could join us."