"Wait a minute…you're not mad at me?" Haxx requested, Volx sitting up with her hands supporting her, Sula redressing the wound once more.
Volx simply narrowed her piercing stare at him. The others were up and about, preparing to move out and continue on-task. Anything resembling a breakfast was tasked upon Rha as he raided the kitchen. Sure, they had rations, but given the choice between a tasteless nutritional supplement and actual food…the choice was quite clear. The Medical Officer gave Vard a clean bill of health, whatever issues he was having prior to rest had cleared up, as with Haxx. Volx seemed to be the only one that was still on the list.
"Oh, I was furious, Sergeant," she admitted in her usual icy tone, but it lightened somewhat, "but…it was noble of you to do what you did to help."
"Well…I'm a bit of screw-up, I'm willing to admit that," he began with a smirk, "but I felt really bad for what happened to you since it was my fault to begin with. I can't make up for it, but I'll at least do my best to rectify it. So…how's it feeling today?"
"Like a plasma bolt from a sniper rifle went through my thigh, Haxx, how else is it supposed to feel?" She chided, retracting slightly realizing how harsh she sounded towards him, "…better, not much, but it's starting to heal. Walking is still out of the question, at least that's what Sula said."
"It's what I told you…Ma'am," she remembered her rank, "I'm not going to force you to listen to me, but I highly suggest you do, your bone hasn't mended completely yet and runs the risk of breaking again or not healing correctly at all if weight is put on it."
"How long until I can? I'm getting tired of feeling useless."
"It will be very tender still," Sula began as she tied off the wrapping once more, reaching for her syringe, "but it should be safe to walk on in about 4 hours if it keeps healing at the rate its going." She finished, gently inserting the needle into Volx's flesh of her thigh.
"I think I can manage that no problem," Haxx announced as he stretched, his back popping a couple times, "I got some sleep and I won't be lugging my gun around all day. That is if you want me to, of course, Lieutenant."
"From what Sula said, you did a fine job yesterday," she grinned, something rare from her, "so I expect the same today, Sergeant."
"Yes, Ma'am," he half-saluted out of humor, thumbing over his shoulder, "right after I get something to eat first, you want some?"
"If you would be so kind to do so," she replied, watching him head over to the kitchen area. Volx turned to Sula as soon as he was out of earshot. "Are sure he's fine? He's acting awfully strange."
She watched out of the corner of her eyes as he attempted to get a second helping of food for Volx, Rha slapping at his hand with the utensil in his hand. Instead of slugging the Corporal as he usually would, he simply seemed to explain, even pointing in Volx's direction. Rha eyed him for a moment before letting him take another plate.
"I'm not sure I understand what you mean, Ma'am."
"I mean he's acting…weird. Being nice and not a complete idiot for once. Does he have a concussion or brain damage or something?"
"The latter is questionable, but there's nothing wrong with him from a medical standpoint," she pointed out with a huff of amusement, "he's been mumbling something about what he discussed with Captain Corr, not entirely sure what exactly, but he has been acting a bit…differently than usual."
"Keep an eye on him," Volx warned, wary of Haxx's intentions, "I'm not convinced he's turned a new leaf from his usual ways. Give it time; we'll see if it's for real or not."
"Yes, Ma'am," Sula politely responded, even though it was more or less the Lieutenant projecting her own thoughts.
The unit finished up with their morning routine, leaving an unwanted disaster of a mess in their wake. Soldiers of the Empire weren't known for their cleanliness in the field, after all, so it came as to no surprise. The early morning suns kept the temperature mild at best, half of the smaller sun still hidden by the horizon as the larger was just above it, a faint, light red glow still present from the reflected light of Praxxus 7 as it hung in the darkened sky yet to give way to daylight. Even if it was the sheer volume of Armada forces and ships on the surface of it causing the change in coloring, it was still pleasing as ambience lighting, bringing with it an odd sense of serenity to the chaos that shrouded Vort at the moment.
The only break in the peaceful environment was the gathering of soldiers themselves, awaiting in defensive positions about the square the apartment complex overlooked.
"Are you sure you don't want me or anyone else to handle the talking, Commander?" Corr cautiously suggested, concerned for his comrade and friend.
"Don't worry about me, Captain," Vult lightly replied, understanding his situation, "I'm as composed as ever, I can't say the same for our compatriot until he arrives. I only hope that he has been able to put the past behind him much like I have tried to do."
"Do you think he has then, Sir?"
"…Highly doubtful, nearly impossible at that," The Commander dryly responded, keeping an eye out. "Please, for the love of Irk, none of you do anything brash if something does happen. I'll handle the situation myself, and if you look at it from a tactical standpoint, we would be outnumbered 10-to-1, outgunned for sure…clear advantages."
A series of "Yes, Sirs" came forth from the 9 Shadow Strikers present in near unison.
"Just keep your heads on straight and keep your antenna up," Vult stated in a lecturing manner. They had heard it time and time before, but it seemed to be the Commander's way of preparing himself for whatever the future was brining.
Even with friendly forces en route, they were still behind enemy lines, and with as far back as the Vorts had been pushed over the night, they were running dangerously close to confronting incoming forces to strengthen the line. The Commander couldn't even imagine the macabre scene that the frontline was producing as Vort and Irken alike literally threw themselves at one another, one in defense, the other to conquer. The nearly-uniform terrain churned up chaotically with potch marks of plasma scoring and craters, entire city blocks leveled, rubble-strewn streets, and instruments of war from both factions littering the landscape from the individual soldier, all the way to the largest of vehicles and machines. Losing ground or not, the Vortians knew they still had the advantage, watching the Irken casualties continue to climb at a much faster rate than their own. Combined with the absolutely astonishing odds the Vortians had in their favor, even with resupply and reinforcements, the Irken were going to exhaust their resources and soldiers long before the Vorts would.
Vult could only imagined the thoughts running through Supreme Commander Grimm's mind on the progress, especially after such a rousing speech that was turning out to be. If not evident enough by now, it would be very soon that he, as well as every single soldier in the field on this rock, was going to find out exactly how determined and how hard the native Vortians were going to fight to keep what was theirs. The Commander, despite his usually complacent nature as a soldier, wanted to throttle those in command of operations and were giving the orders. It was still infuriating at the nonchalant attitude flaunted by the Tallest, even Grimm to a degree, of what the Empire was getting themselves into.
Politics and decisions were much farther above his head, however, and none of his concern. In the meantime, all he could do was assure that those in his unit and himself would make it out alive. The Commander had tempted fate once in this campaign…he dared not again. Risking his own life was one thing, but those of his soldiers and his unit went against all that he created and taught to them, especially for his own sake or personal gain. Remain loyal to yourself, your unit, and the Empire, in that order regarded what was commanded of them and personal beliefs…it didn't cover betrayal of comrades for any reason whatsoever.
"I have a visual, Commander," Tuu calmly spoke over the comm., watching through his rifle's scope. "Irken Elite Guard, a company, give or take a few."
Vult snapped from his thoughts back to what was at stake.
"Understood, Sergeant," he acknowledged, adjusting the zoom on his visor just to make sure before revealing their position.
Sure enough, the tell-tale armor and insignia of the Irken Elite dotted their uniforms. Vult instantly knew Saro had to be in charge, he was the only C.O. he had ever known in his life to do absolutely everything by the book, regardless of what the situation called for. Included was marching in standard formation. This held absolutely no tactical value whatsoever in a warzone, especially behind enemy lines. If anything, it was asking for attention, especially to him at the front, leading them. Vult was surprised that he hadn't gotten himself killed in the Irken Elite Guard by following some protocols.
"Hail them, Vard," Vult lightly ordered as he continued to watch them approach.
"Yes, Sir," The Comm. Technician obeyed, dialing in the correct information into the array. "Alpha Omega 13, this is Alpha Centauri 00, do you read? Please respond."
"AO ten-three responding," another voice quickly answered, "Command already gave us a sitrep on your condition and position, moving to you now."
"Affirmative, AO ten-three," Vard confirmed, "we are approximately…" Vard looked up, using his rangefinder on what was left of his visor, "half a click north-northeast of your location. Continue on the street you're on and you'll run right into us."
"Understood, AC zero-zero…" the comm. operator seemed to pause, "we have visual on your position, AO ten-three out."
Vard closed the comm. link to them, giving Commander Vult a thumbs up. With a nod, Vult picked up his rifle, preparing to stand up.
"Everyone on your feet and keep your eyes peeled. We're still in enemy territory," he announced as he leapt over his cover, "let's go meet our "guests"."
One by one, they followed, appearing from their respective positions of cover to maneuver forward towards the incoming Irken Elite Guard unit. Aero may not have known what this Captain Saro looked like, but it was quite clear who was in charge, and just by looking at him, accompanied by Vult's description of him…there was no denying it.
"Company halt!" Saro's voice boomed in the silence, his soldiers coming to a dead stop at attention as he continued forward, deactivating his battle mask as it lowered and folded into a collar. He snapped to attention, saluting…Aero.
"Irken Elite Guard Company Alpha Omega 13, Captain Saro at your service, Ma'am," he rattled off in regulation form when addressing a taller Irken, presuming her to be the commanding officer of the Shadow Strikers.
Needless to say, she was a bit perplexed, looking to either side, the pointing at herself, lax in stature to begin with. "Me?"
"Yes, Ma'am, you're the C.O. of this Spec Ops unit, aren't you?"
"Oh, no, no, no," she nervously laughed, pointing to Vult as he approached to join her, "he's in charge."
"…but he's shorter than you." Saro concluded, finding it strange to say the least, "you're the tallest one present, Ma'am, why aren't you in command?"
"Because, Captain," Vult interrupted as he deactivated his visor and mask, revealing his face. "That's how I do things in my unit."
Saro was quite…astonished to see Vult again, especially the odds of it happening again were slim to none.
"Well, well, well…what do we have here?" He began with faux amusement, a big grin that bore a crooked smile. "Of all the Speckies in the entire Armada in the universe, I get paired up with the likes of you…what are the chances?" Saro chuckled, quickly reverting into a hardened, unamused stare. "Vult…I am very, very depressed that you're still alive."
"I'm not thrilled about our joint venture either," Vult admitted, remaining as respectful as possible, "but Command has deemed it necessary to do so. Just follow our respective orders and everyone will get along just f-"
"So this is your unit, you're in charge of this outfit?" The Irken Captain almost jested, laughing to himself. "You've got her calling you "Sir"?" He pointed to Aero, continuing to chuckle to himself, "let me guess…that one is your second-in-command, am I right?" Saro added, referring to Vard. The Comm. Technician simply looked bewildered amongst his comrades, finding it wise just to stay out of the mess all together.
However, Corr remained silent, but it was quite insulting for Saro to not even recognize his rank, especially since they were of the same rank to begin with and was, in fact, taller than Saro. He couldn't even begin to imagine the rage that the Commander was suppressing for such a ravenous display of disrespect from a less-than-ideal officer.
"As much as you find it amusing, Captain," Vult remained vigilant, "yes, all of these soldiers are beneath my command, regardless of height, and follow rank in the traditional sense."
"I don't even want to know what kind of mutinous stunt you've pulled to gain control here, especially a lowly Lieutenant like yourself."
"It's Commander to you, Captain," Vult made abundantly clear, seeming to only raise another renewed laugh from Saro. His blood was boiling, but he did all he could remained in control. Part of him wished to make an example of leadership material and the discipline it took to lead troops…the other half wanted to rip Saro limb from limb.
"What is that, a self-promotion? Who in their right mind would willingly give you that rank? What are they..stupid?"
"They would be the Almighty Tallest themselves." He replied to Saro's annoying degradation, watching as his laughter died nearly instantly at that statement. He always was a bit of a suck-up when it came to mentioning the Tallest, which was odd considering that he had never actually met them before. "Are you quite finished?"
"You do know you can report him for being mentally unstable, don't you, Ma'am?" Saro completely ignored Vult, speaking to Aero. She nervously looked over at the Commander, whose visage seem to grow more and more distraught in the time spent in this Irken Elite Captain's presence. Saro's amused gaze retracted to one of suspicion. "wait…there's something…off about you."
"I'm not sure what you mean, Captain," Aero respectfully answered, what was in question about her person was painfully obvious in her physique, leaning back as Saro stood on the tips of his toes, rubbing his chin, studying her.
"...you're defective, aren't you? I'm not taking orders from a defective."
"Umm…" Aero attempted to stall, unsure of how to answer.
"Saro, can I talk to you for a moment," Vult managed through grit teeth, his sheer anger at the boiling point, "…in private?"
Saro continued to eye Aero, turning slightly while he still looked at her.
"Of course, Commander," his voice dripped of sarcasm, "I'll humor you."
Vult led him away from his own soldiers and out of antenna-shot of his men at attention still, but still within view.
"I'm going to be brief, Saro," Vult began in a hushed, yet agitated tone, "I know you hate me, that much is clear, but don't you dare start disrespecting my soldiers like that, especially in front of me and your own men. It's degrading."
"You think I'm going to take orders from the likes of you or your ragtag bunch of…defective, smeet-brained, spoiled soldiers and their Vort-sympathizing traitor of a commanding officer…you've suffered brain damage since we last spoke, too much shell-shock perhaps?"
Vult latched onto his uniform and jerked him within inches of his own face. Only mere inches taller than Vult, their sizes were about the same. Saro was more than surprised by this display and was caught off guard.
"You listen, and you listen good, Captain," Vult snarled lowly in a tone that demanded attention from the disrespectful Irken, "I'm not one for threats, as we both know quite well, Saro, but you're pushing it, and we wouldn't want any…accidents to happen, now would we?"
Saro broke Vult's hold on his uniform, shoving him off of him. For once, Vult was surprised the Captain didn't retaliate with a punch or some other form of violence. Maybe he wasn't as bad as he used to be…then again, maybe Zim managed to grow a brain and not act like a complete moron. The chances were non-existent.
"You got lucky once, Vult," he made clear, the result of that so-called "luck" as evident as ever in the cybernetic left eye and ripped scars in his flesh around it. He studied his uniform, straightening it out where Vult had it balled up in his artificial hand. "Don't confuse it with skill. Speckies or not, you don't have the firepower to silence us all. Even if you did, you're soft, Vult, you don't have the spooch to give such an order. I'm surprised you're in charge of anything after the bleeding heart you had on Drevin, especially for horned filth such as the Vortians."
The facts, despite being classified, seemed to be the only thing that was going to get Saro to pull his head out of his c'hurta.
"My unit alone softened up Praxxus 7 so you and your precious Elite Guard would have a place to call "home" while assaulting Vort," Vult matter-of-factly informed, pressing his metallic finger into Saro's chest as he spoke, "we're not Spec Ops, we are the Almighty Tallests' personal tool of destruction. We make problems go away…I suggest that you don't become a problem, Captain, lest you want to become just another statistic."
Saro simply chuckled.
"Looks like someone's sure manned up since I last saw them," he sarcastically answered, playing the Commander's seriousness off as if it was nothing, "whatever pleases you and the "Almighty Tallest" it is. It works both ways, I'll lay off your soldiers…only if you don't start trying to boss my boys around. Unlike your unit off in make-believe land, we do things by the book, not some made up system of rules."
"That's fine, I will respect that," Vult nodded to placate Saro, putting his hand forward, "then we've reached an agreement, yes?"
"…if you think I'm shaking your hand, you must be crazy," Saro scathed as he turned his back to him, "the past may be so easy for you to forget and put behind you, but I'm the one that carries a little memento of what happen…you disgust me."
Vult left it at that as Saro continued back towards his own soldiers, knowing anymore said on the matter of their past encounter would only dredge it up and ultimately lead to physical conflict. Displeased in general, Vult activated his helmet once more, returning to his own soldiers.
"By the way he left, Sir, I'm going to safely assume all is not well?" Corr stated the obvious.
"Just form up and follow, we're taking point," Vult ordered in disgust, catching Corr and the others for that matter, completely off guard with a tone that they rarely heard from him. They could feel the darkness building within their beloved Commander, all because of a demon of his past reared his ugly head once more. To not invoke the misplaced wrath that was brewing, the Shadow Strikers obeyed, taking up their usual patrol formation a couple hundred meters ahead of Saro's company.
"How is that guy not defective?" Haxx commented over their internal comm. link, outside the channel that the two units were operating on. "I've never seen such a…rabid display of disrespect and…dookie-headedness."
"…I'm afraid I have to agree with Haxx on this one…as strange as it sounds," Volx chimed in as she was on Haxx's back, rifle in hands, surprising a few of them that she actually agreed with him for once.
"Me? You're agreeing with me?" Haxx acted surprised, only to see an unamused stare looking back at him over his shoulder. "Sure you're not still drugged up?"
"Don't push your luck, Sergeant."
"…yes, Ma'am."
"From what the Commander told me," Aero added to the conversation, wary of her words, "he's rather sick and sadistic. I know we're soldiers and all, but it sounds as if he takes it too far…and enjoys it."
"All of you, knock the chatter off," Corr ordered sternly, their eyes all darting forward at him as he looked over his shoulder at them, "did you forget we're still on mission? Keep the comm. channel clear. Last thing we need is all of you clogging it up with nonsense and we come under fire, unable to give orders. Are we clear?"
"Yes, Captain," they all responded in unison, the slightest changes in tone noticeable by one another. Just from Corr's order alone, they could tell he meant business and it was for the sake of the Commander, especially since he could hear everything that they said. Regardless of him already knowing the truth of the matter, mentioning or repeating any of it didn't help any whatsoever.
"Going silent," Vult announced, activating his cloaking, disappearing from view. The others followed suit. He opened up the comm. channel with Saro's unit, "before you start freaking out, Captain, we're still ahead of you."
"Hiding from view so we can get picked off? I feel oh so lucky, nice to see you care about our well-being and all. You going to make yourself known before or after we're all dead?"
"I'd rather leave you for the vultures, Saro, but that's beside the point," Vult quipped, closing the channel before the Elite Guard Captain had anything to retaliate with. "Ikveda murata vordento…" he trailed off under his breath, his own unit hearing the swear. It was surprising to hear such language from Vult, even under fire, his words remained clean.
Anger was one thing that the Commander was often quite skilled at hiding or at least suppressing in presence of his soldiers, but there was something different about what they were seeing from him. This wasn't just the dislike of another soldier, this was far deeper and much, much darker.
No…this was a rage that had sat dormant for years that was returning to the surface once more, the intense hatred for a fellow Irken that was far from exemplary and cruel, even by their standards. It could be felt that Captain Saro was nearly a polar opposite to Vult in terms of leadership style, as well as personal conduct on how one presented themselves in a time of war. As much as he attempted to reason with the "monster" he described to Aero, it was to no avail.
There was no reasoning, only a bloodlust and sadist nature that had an innate need to be satisfied, one way or another. She looked over her shoulder behind them. Even at a distance, she could see the intense stare that Saro possessed eyes full of hatred, void of compassion. The kind that someone who was impartial to life and the concept of death…she initially thought the Commander was over-exaggerating.
She couldn't have been anymore wrong.
Even as the Empire's finest examples, she and her comrades could only hope this mission would come to an end soon and no longer have to deal with the likes of Captain Saro.
Battles weren't just won and lost in the physical sense, the darkness on the horizon was something they were going to be locked in contention with for the remainder of their days and sanity seemed to be the most crucial prize at stake. War hardened soldiers over time, desensitizing them to what normally shocked and appalled those who had not partaken…nothing could prepare them for the coming maelstrom they were to brave.