Time to bring the first wave of the invasion to an end.
In a sparsely populated and heavily forested area, sat the headquarters of the Mistrali military intelligence agency. Most Mistralis were unaware that the place even existed, but it wasn't hidden from the Tribe, they knew exactly where it was. Fighters circled above the complex, ready to take out any resistance, while transports flew in low over the trees, preparing to launch their assault.
The complex was made up of several bunker-like buildings, with a series of tunnels running between them. The buildings were mostly hidden by the tree cover but stuck out like a sore thumb to those who knew what to look for.
The place was in lockdown due to the lockdown, but that didn't mean the intelligence agents and defenders were safe from the Tribe. Bunkers could only hold them back for so long, even when destroying the bunkers wasn't an option.
There were a few clearings in the trees, allowing some of the transports to touch down. The remaining transports hovered above the trees and dropped ropes. Troops rushed out of the transports on the ground, securing the area outside the bunkers. The troops from the hovering transports descended to the ground using the ropes, then joined their comrades in securing the area.
Vulture and Clay were in one of the transports that landed, and they joined the others in securing the area. But Vulture was quite disappointed to find, everyone had retreated inside, so she would have to wait to start killing them.
Spotting a camera above the door to one of the bunkers, Vulture skipped over and stared into it, looking directly at whoever was watching her. She waved at slowly and tilted her head to the side, doing her best to terrify the people she would soon be slaughtering. The blood splatters helped to make her even more intimidating than usual.
Not wanting the people inside to know what was coming next, Vulture then drew her sidearm and put a bullet through the camera, rendering it useless and blinding her future victims blind. With their enemies now unable to see what they were up to, the Tribe prepared to breach the bunker doors. They placed large and extremely powerful breaching charges on the metal doors, before taking cover at a safe distance.
Once all the charges were ready and everyone was in position, Vulture gave the signal to blow the doors. As soon as she did so, several huge explosions shook the ground and sent the molten remnants of the doors flying. Anyone unfortunate enough to have been standing close to the entrances would have been instantaneously reduced to a bloody pulp.
Before the dust kicked up by the blasts even had time to settle, the Tribe's troops rushed into the bunkers. Vulture and Clay were among the first into one of the buildings, following close behind the shield units. At first, they encountered no resistance, as the defenders closest to the entrance were already in pieces and strewn across the floor.
They swept through the building quickly, finding it empty. Everyone other than those who had been by the doors had fled into the tunnels. A few gunshots rang out from the other buildings, but soon enough the Tribe had all of the Mistralis trapped underground. It was just a matter of moving in and clearing them out, which was what the Tribe were best at.
There was a stairwell leading down into the tunnels, which they were going to have to go down in order to finish what they started. It would be risky as their enemies would be waiting for them with whatever weapons they had, but it was nothing they couldn't handle, and once they were down they would be able to get up close and personal with the trapped Mistralis, which would allow Vulture to really get to work.
Vulture drew her sword in case they ended up in a close-quarters engagement, then gave the signal to move in. The shield units weren't going to be of much use on the stairs, so regular troops led the way down with their weapons at the ready. They moved down the first flight of stairs slowly, expecting at any moment for their foes to come around the blind corner at the bottom. Vulture stayed close to the front so she could cut quickly dispatch any attackers, while Clay was further back in the group due to his lack of experience.
The first and second, and third flight were all cleared without incident, and soon they found themselves at the top of the fourth and final flight of stairs. At this point, the pointman began to move around the corner to check the coast was clear, but he was forced to duck back into cover, as several shots rang out and a number of rounds slammed into the wall behind him. The enemy was waiting for them.
The troops went back into combat mode, and an experimental stun grenade was thrown down the stairs. Bolts of electricity shot out, electrocution everyone within range and giving the Tribe the opportunity to strike.
The Tribe's troops rounded the corner and fired down the stairs, their bullets tearing into the stunned Mistralis and those who had been out of the grenade's range. They continued to fire as they advanced, driving their opponents back, and making their way to the bottom of the stairs. It was like shooting fish in a barrel, especially because the Tribe were used to fighting in enclosed spaces like the corridors of spacecraft.
The sound of the gunfire was deafening, but it was music to Vulture's ears as she and her troops advanced. It got her even more worked up and ready for a fight then she already had been and she was now in murdering mode. She finished off all the injured Mistralis that she passed, while her troops continued to gun down the retreating survivors.
Unfortunately for the survivors, the Tribe was now advancing into the tunnels from all directions, leaving them with nowhere to go. They were no match for the elite warriors of the Tribe, who were gunning them down with brutal efficiency. They tried returning fire, only to be eliminated before they could do any real damage, and they were rapidly running out of guns and ammunition.
Taking the opportunity to strike, Vulture went to work. With her sidearm in one hand and her sword in the other, she rushed forward into the enemy lines. She a couple of shots, scoring two headshots before she slammed blade first into one particularly unfortunate Mistrali. Following her lead, several Tribe members drew their knives and joined the mele.
With the same ruthless efficiency with which she always fought, Vulture hacked and slashed her way through the terrified Mistralis. Her razor-sharp blade severing arms and legs and sending blood spraying all over the place. Beneath her mask, she had a big smile on her face, as she revelled in what she was doing. It wasn't just her usual sadistic pleasure though, she was punishing the Mistralis for everything Mistral had ever done wrong.
As she continued her slaughtering, thoughts of everything that Mistral had done to hurt the people she cared about flashed through her mind. She remembered Ilia's face after she returned from finding caged Faunus children, and it motivated her even more. Doing that to innocent children couldn't be forgiven. Upsetting her girlfriend like that, couldn't be forgiven. She also thought about the Reaper's assassination attempt. Yang had saved her from a life on the streets, and Mistral could not be forgiven for trying to eliminate her.
Bullets and fist flew at her, only to be effortlessly dodged, before whoever sent them her way was cut to pieces. When she was in this mindset, she was completely untouchable. Just like the rest of the Birds, her reflexes and speed were verging on superhuman. She was a walking weapon, a killing machine.
More and more limbs were removed and more Mistralis were cut down as she continued her rampage through them, not even entertaining the thought of being merciful, and soon enough, the tunnels were painted in blood and all of the Mistrali's lay dead. The Tribe had torn through them like they were nothing, every single hostile on the base having been slaughtered like a defenceless animal.
Vulture looked around, admiring her handiwork. But her blood lust still hadn't been sated, as there hadn't been nearly enough people on the base. Most of the intelligence agents must have been on Haven with Lionheart, so she would have to wait to finish the job. But for now, the fighting was over and all of their intelligence was now in the Tribe's hands, so she couldn't be too annoyed by the lack of people to kill.
Vulture wasn't the only one taking in the bloody view. Clay was looking at her in and her victims, awestruck. He couldn't believe, that a single person was capable of doing what she had just done. Even with her reputation and with what he'd already seen of her, nothing had prepared him for seeing her in combat. Well, he couldn't really consider what had just happened to be combat, it was a one-sided slaught.
On the edge of her vision, Vulture spotted Clay staring at her. She turned to face him and gestured for him to join her. She wasn't surprised by his reaction, her way of doing things had a tendency to shock people, well, the ones who lived to long enough to react did. She liked it that way most of the time, but she hoped she hadn't traumatised Clay.
Clay didn't really know what to say to Vulture. He was both impressed and terrified by her. He knew she was good at making people suffer, but he didn't know how brutally efficient she was at killing people. He couldn't say he felt sympathy for her victims but seeing them go from living breathing people to piles of severed limbs in a matter of seconds, was very hard to process.
Taking out her scroll, Vulture typed out a message. "You'll need to get used to this, there are still a lot of people who need to die before we can achieve our goals. Remember why we're doing all this, it'll make it easier." Normally she kept her messages as short as possible, but situations like this called for a little extra effort. Clay would need to adapt, he would need to get used to seeing the things she'd shown him, otherwise, he'd never be able to follow in her footsteps and would never reach his full potential.
"I know. This is just a hell of a lot to take in. I won't let you down." Clay responded, after taking a moment to consider what Vulture told him. He believed in the Tribe and what they stood for, and he accepted that the ends justified the means, but it would take some time for him to fully adjust to his new life. He was sure that most of the other members of the Tribe, had probably felt the way he did when they were first starting out, but they were all still there, so he was sure he would get used to it eventually and start enjoying it as much as they seemed to.
"Alright then, now come on, let's see what dirt they have on us." Vulture's next message said before she gestured for him to follow her. She was satisfied with his answer and now wanted to get on with searching the place to find what intelligence Mistral had on the Tribe and anything else that was of interest or value. There was bound to be a treasure trove of information for them to find, given that it was the main intelligence hub on the planet.
At the summit of one of Mistral's highest mountains, sat a small but extremely important building surrounded by antennae. The Military Communications Centre on Mistral was one of the most important strategic targets in the invasion, taking it would seriously hinder any communication between the Military and Political leaders on Haven, and their troops on Mistral.
The altitude, rugged terrain and harsh weather, made a ground base attack pretty much impossible. Even if an attacker managed to make it up the mountain, they would then have to deal with the troops stationed there. Due to the sensitivity of the communications passing threw the centre, the place was operated and defended by a group of ultra-loyal elite soldiers.
Unfortunately for the Mistralis, the base wasn't as safe as they needed it to be, and it was entirely their own fault. The base had anti-aircraft weapons, but the harsh conditions they were exposed to, rendered them inoperable. So, there was little that could be done to defend against an aerial assault. But on top of that, the number of troops on site was very low, as the government and military wanted as few people as possible to have access to their communications. So, the place could easily be overrun, in the event of a successful attack from above.
The Branwens, of course, knew everything about the base and were able to take full advantage of its weaknesses.
Three of the Tribe's transports stealthily approached the isolated base, using a layer of cloud to conceal themselves until they reached the mountain. The defenders didn't see them coming until they rose up out of the clouds and opened fire. Those who had been patrolling the perimeter were torn to shreds before they could react to the new arrivals, and those inside the base were forced to take cover.
The transports then opened their rear doors, deploying their troops on the mountain top, while the defenders weren't as much of a threat. Tribe member rushed out with their weapons drawn and immediately began moving in on the base. The ground was rocky and covered in snow, but that wasn't a problem for the Tribe's fighters, who were ready to fight in whatever conditions they encountered.
Falcon, with her sidearm in hand rather than her sword, led her troops from the front, with Cherry by her side. No longer just Falcon's apprentice, Cherry happier than ever to be fighting alongside Falcon, and the two of them were more than ready to deal with whatever Mistral could throw at them. Completely undeterred by the conditions they were in, they quickly closed in on the small building in which their enemies had hunkered down.
With the transports now circling above, providing air support and keeping the defenders pinned down, the Tribe's forces soon reached the walls of the building. It was a bunker-like building, with a single metal door and very few windows. To most people, it would seem like an impenetrable fortress. But to the tribe, nothing was impenetrable. The door was quickly dealt with, courtesy of a particularly powerful breaching charge, with had triggered a small avalanche.
Once the door was open, dozens of smoke grenades were hurled inside, forcing the defenders to choose between dying from smoke inhalation or running out to where the tribe was waiting. As the smoke built up and reduced the visibility inside to zero, panicked shouts and violent coughing fits could be heard. Eventually, a couple of soldiers came stumbling out of the door, only to have their heads blown off by the Tribe.
A few moments later, another soldier came out of the building on his hands and knees, coughing heavily and struggling for air. Falcon put a swift end to him, drawing her sword, and removing his head in one lighting fast movement. The snow around his corpse, quickly turning red, as blood rushed out of the hole where his head had once been.
The decapitated man turned out to be the third and last one out of the building, with the other defenders either succumbing to the smoke before they could get out or choosing to go out in a less violent manner. Once the smoke cleared, the Tribe went in, finding the place strewn with the corpses of the defenders. They didn't use it often, but when they did, smoke proved itself to be a super-effective killer.
"That was not how expected this to end," Cherry commented, as she and Falcon looked around. There had been a lot more shooting and bloodshed one her first mission with Falcon, so she hadn't expected things to go the way they had gone. Of course, she didn't really care how things were done, as long as Falcon was okay in the end.
"Sometimes we have to get a little creative," Falcon responded. There had been plenty of occasions during her time in the Tribe and the SDC when they had to get creative to solve a problem. Smoking her enemies out was nothing compared to some of the things she, had resorted to in the past, from weaponising furniture to blowing up her own ship, she'd done it all.
Meanwhile, beyond Mistral's atmosphere, there was a massacre similar to Vulture's and Falcons's happening, only on a much larger scale. The Mistrali fleet had been boxed in by the Tribe's superior fleet and crippled by a single powerful blast for the Terror Bird's EMP cannon. Every single electrical system on every single ship in the fleet was now fried and useless, a worst-case scenario for anyone unlucky enough to be aboard.
The disabled ships had no shields, no engines, no life support, no artificial gravity and no weapons. Anyone and anything in the hangars had been vented into the vacuum of space, the shields went off. Any room that wasn't perfectly sealed was now devoid of air, and any remaining air was quickly used up by panicking Mistralis. Those unfortunate enough not to die instantly were killed off by the lack of air, pressure and heat, doomed to suffer horrific deaths in their vast metallic coffins.
This is how things could have been left, had Sun Wukong so wished. But, that was not the plan, somewhat mercifully, the Tribe's ships opened fire on the doomed fleet from all directions. In a matter of moments, thousands of rounds of various kinds slammed into the Mistrali ships. In a series of enormous explosions, that tore the ships apart and ignited their dust supplies, every single crew member, pilot and officer was incinerated, putting a swift and spectacular end to their suffering.
Chunks of ships and burning dust were sent in all directions, slamming into the shields of the Tribe's shift, or drifting harmlessly into the endless void. The Mistrali fleet was no more, while the Tribe's was unscathed. Now the orbital sieges of Mistral and Haven could begin, as the ground forces carried out the invasion. It was just as Sun had planned, and sealed the fate of President Lionheart, who was now trapped on Haven with no hope of fleeing the system.
It wasn't yet time to celebrate victory over Mistral, though it was now only a matter of when they won, not if. Sitting in his chair on the bridge of the Terror Bird, Sun couldn't help feeling pleased with himself, wiping out an entire fleet without taking any losses was a hell of a feat. He and the rest of the bridge crew would definitely be celebrating later, and hopefully, he'd get his chance to repay Ciel, but first, he had to get his fleet into blockade position.
Deep in the bowls of the Presidential complex on Haven, President Lionheart sat at his desk, head in hands. Reports of the events happening in space and down on Mistral had been flooding in. The fleet was annihilated, numerous important locations were under Branwen control, the Vice President had been captured, his forces were being slaughtered and his people were revolting against him, the Tribe was tearing Mistral apart and he was powerless to stop them.
He'd managed to get through to Ironwood and to Salem, but both of them refused to intervene. Ironwood wasn't willing to risk Atlesian assets and called him a failure. Salem had made it clear that he was a pawn she was willing to lose, and that he deserved to suffer horrifically for his spectacular failure. He and his remaining loyalists were alone against the overwhelming might and fury of the Branwen Tribe.
Didn't want things getting too repetitive, so I decided to get the first wave of the invasion done in this chapter. Next chapter will be longer and have a lot more going on. Anyway, please feel free to review, and I'll see you next time.