Chapter 7

Location: Marinestar Host of Hades

Date: February 8, 2025

Time: 0130 Local Time

"Gentlemen the hours of boredom are over," the voice of Major Damecles sounded off as the assembled team of ten elite Colonial Commandoes got settled into their seats, "Two hours ago one of our cruisers found our lost civilian exploration vessels but attempts to hail yielded no response and after boarding we found this."

The officer hit a button and a picture of the bridge of the Lucas Wanderer appeared. In the picture was the command center of the ship and on the floor were several bodies, gaping holes burnt into their chests. Blood was spread all over the floor and on the control boards and the chairs were missing along with what seemed like whatever else that wasn't bolted down.

"We found six other bodies on Lucas Wanderer and twelve on the On Time III. All of them but three had these wounds, their cause is unknown. But the others were tortured, knife cuts, whip lashes, and blunt force trauma. The whereabouts of the other crew and passengers is unknown."

"Did the crew put up a fight?" one of the commandoes asked.

"It did seem like it, we found what looked to be human blood and bullet casings in the hallway near the hatch near the majority of the bodies. The merchant crewmen didn't want to give up their ship without a fight. But we can only guess as to who got frakked up worse without any film of it. Both ships had their logs physically destroyed."

"Sir I'm just going to ask what we're all thinking. Who are the frakkers that did this and do we have any idea where they are?" one of their Sergeants piped up, getting nods and murmurs of agreement.

"We think so," the Major replied, hitting the button again to show and orbital reconnaissance thermal image showing a few groupings of heat signatures and a large diamond shaped object that was outlined in red, "This is their camp as intelligence photographs show. And this could be their ship, of unknown origin as it doesn't match anything in our databases. It's roughly the size of a corvette, and its capabilities are unknown, as are its operators. But we do know these are numerous, heavily armed assholes. Treat them the same way you would with pirates or terrorists."

"Could this be Earth's doing sir?" one of them asked, bringing up the elephant in the room.

"Unknown at this time, but they could have intel on Earth. They might be behind it, they might not have any clue. Yes Lieutenant?" the major said seeing one of the new officers on the team raise his hand.

"What sort of numbers can we expect on target sir?"

"Unknown at this time but we're expecting anywhere from twenty to fifty hostiles. That's what we'd expect to be needed to crew of vessel of this size but there could be more, there could be less, we're just gonna have to roll with the punches on this one," Major Damecles responded honestly, and that didn't help his nineteen man team relax any.

"Sir are we going to have any air assets on standby?"

"That's an affirm, we'll have a section of Marine Vipers with full ground-pound capability and a pair of Raptors for extract should we need them. The big guns are being withheld due to the possibility of hostages so no orbital strikes today gentlemen. Instead, we'll be infiltrating via orbital drop pods with our LZ here in this clearing," the Major said as he progressed into the mission briefing itself, "From there we'll move north-east to this forested ridge overlooking the AO, callsign Point Buccaneer. It's about a klick out from where what looks like ruins of some sort are situated along the opposite side of the valley on the slope with terraces going upwards to where the ship is landed, callsign Target Alpha. We'll move by section, breaching sections in the center and the weapons sections on the flanks. Stealth is our ally, suppressors and blades only gentlemen. No explosives until we verify or secure our people."

"What is the number of people we're expecting to rescue sir?" one of the Captains asked.

"Ninety-eight civilians, but we have no idea of where they might be in the AO. So we'll have to be careful how we go about this. Any others?"

There were none.

"Alright gear up, we drop in fifteen."

Colonial Commando Teams were units of specially selected and trained troops that operated under the authority of Colonial Fleet Advanced Special Operations Division. Each Battlestar Group had a team of these Commandoes with them whenever they were on deployment, ready to react to such situations as hostage rescue, sabotage, recon, smash and grab, or straight-up annihilating anything that that had to be destroyed. Each team was commanded by an ASOD Major with a Combat Air Controller always in his hip pocket ready to bring down anything from rocket runs to a nuke. A Captain was in charge each of the two nine-man squads once they were on the ground. These were further broken down into two four-man sections led by a Lieutenant with NCO's no lower than a Sergeant being under their command.

Each squad had two unique sections; Section One was normally the breaching section with assault rifles customized with under-barrel grenade launchers, shotguns, or twenty-five millimeter rocket launchers meant for Cylon Centurions. One of them also had a one-shot rocket launcher strapped to his back, so whoever had it was usually the most senior NCO. Section Two was the weapons section with the squad designated marksman, a machine gunner and his assistant who helped carry spare boxes of ammo and also hefted the section's Multi-Purpose Missile Launcher, and then the section leader who usually had his choice of underbarrel attachments for his rifle. The team commander usually went along in between the two squads as the mission progressed if both were deployed in tandem with his CAC right alongside him calling in airstrikes as the mission progressed, should they be needed.

This team was known, on paper, as ASO Team 23, but like all Commando Teams they had a name for themselves that wasn't a number. They knew themselves and were known by others as the Skulls. This was due to the team's habit of wearing black balaclavas with white skulls colored into the cloth. It was mostly as a psychological edge, meant to terrify their enemies and give some measure of confidence in the team members. Because if you go into battle thinking you're not the baddest most capable individual out there you'll second guess yourself and be indecisive. And indecision gets people killed in this business.

So along with their characteristic skull balaclavas the team geared up in an all-black uniforms and Kevlar vests. Into these vests they packed in ammo, grenades of lethal and nonlethal types, smoke canisters, bandages, morpha, and ammunition for their under-barrel weapons attachments if they had one. They also tested out their infrared goggles that they put into their backpacks as their lightweight helmets had another attachment meant for them at the moment. For the drop into the atmosphere they put on an oxygen mask hooked to a small tank strapped to their chest and goggles along with an altimeter on their wrist like a watch.

The team was geared up quite quickly, being as elite as they were, and headed off to the limited access part of the ship that was made especially for them. Inside the guarded hatch was a row of brand new Orbital Entry Vehicles. These large pods were roughly the size of a Viper, with a blunt nose tapering off into a pointed end that sharply extended back out like a piston head. Each pod, as they were better known, was capable delivering five Commandoes in one drop from anywhere in orbit. The skin was built of the same material as Colonial Vipers, Raptors, and anything else designed to withstand re-entry into a planet's atmosphere. The seats inside were arranged facing outwards, with large doors that sealed them inside from the intense conditions that would be faced by the Commandoes. There was no real life-support system, and the troops didn't need to wear the unwieldy sealed flight gear that the pilots of the fleet wore as if there was a breach the heat would incinerate them before the zero atmosphere suffocated them.

"Alright," the chief petty officer in charge of the bay called out, "We've got some nasty weather conditions down there right now. Heavy rains but light winds with some electricity in the air. But that's already begun tapering off for the most part and should leave you in good shape, wet, but you'll be good to go."

"Roger that chief, alright load up, command wants this done," the major called out, ordering his troops into the pods in front of them.

One by one the commandoes entered the pods, seating themselves in the chairs in the small holes built into the main hull of the craft. Once seated crewmen made certain that the hatches shut perfectly, and the releasing bolts were flashing all green, because if those didn't pass inspection they didn't drop. However they all passed with honors, and Major Damecles was the final one of the team to get sealed into the pod. The hatch was shut, sealed and a small readout in front of him with a digital countdown timer was already going, with only forty-five seconds remaining.

He strapped his oxygen mask in place and activated his air tank and felt the cool sealed air moving into his mask. His heart began beating ever more rapidly as the timer hit thirty seconds. By now the bay was completely cleared of all personnel and anything they brought with them. The atmosphere was vented, and at ten seconds the silos that the pods were inside of were opened, allowing the pods free access to the drop that awaited them. Major Damecles and his entire team watched the timer with grim anticipation as their timers hit the final countdown which flashed to red and a dull beeping chirped at every second, growing into a higher pitch each time. And when zero hit the passengers felt their pods get released and then the externally mounted rocket thrusters activated and were propelled straight down and out of the belly of the Marinestar one-by-one.

"Entering atmosphere," the female voice of the automatic intercom called out as the pods began viciously vibrating as the heat outside began building up.

All four pods maneuvered into away from each other but stayed in a pre-programmed formation. Their pods began glowing as the atmosphere continued heating them up, trails of flame extending back showing their path into the atmosphere, contrasting brightly against the black and dark gray of the night-side of the planet they were now approaching at mind boggling speed.

But then their pods reached the end of the dangerous portion of the drop, and slowed down. And as they slowed a timed process began within the pods as a second timer began its own countdown. Five rocket boosters aimed downwards at the sides of each commando activated with a roar as flares began spilling from the craft, their bright white lights sparkling brightly, illuminating the now jet black pods as they dropped with an ever decreasing velocity. Then three massive parachutes released at five seconds on the countdown timers of the commandoes' hatches. All four pods slowed in tandem at an incredible rate, exerting massive G-Forces upon their occupants who'd only done this a few times before. And never in a storm, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

Then the countdown timers hit zero while the pods were still thirty-five thousand feet. Each commando had been carefully strapped to his chair, but it was what was within the chair that they were strapped to, a parachute. Their seats were operated in a form very similar to an ejector seat on a Viper or Raptor, but were designed to be jettisoned straight out instead of up. And at zero they did so.

With a massive concussion the doors that had protected them were blasted away with explosive charges and then a second later their booster seats went flying away from the pods in tandem along with another trail of flares to cover the thermal signatures of the rocket seats and their human occupants. Once clear of the pods the seat simply fell away, flopping in the buffeting wind and rain. The troops themselves actually found themselves in a very odd sensory position, they were falling in the same direction as the rain itself, but were actually moving faster than the rain as it had a terminal velocity that was slower than that of a human, much faster, so much so that the rain stung their faces quite a lot, but their goggles and oxygen masks blocked out most of it.

"Gods damn!" the Major heard one of his commandoes yell, "Whose frakking idea was this?!"

"Keep a grip!" Lieutenant Aerien, one of his section leaders snapped back.

"Thirty-thousand feet!" Captain Erathon called out as they passed one of their thresholds.

The major and many of the other commandoes looked outwards, seeing the dull red lights of the smoke canisters mounted on the backs of the all of their parachutes, counting their comrades and were all of them relieved to see each of them was now falling at quite a velocity straight down. Minor arm and leg adjustments brought them all into a formation ten meters apart from each other, their only guide being the red of their smoke canisters, leaving a rapidly dispersing trace of their path to ground. The rapid descent was marked by the frequent calling out every time five thousand feet went by. And finally each commando looked at his altimeter and when the number hit fifteen hundred feet they yanked the cord on their parachutes.

The jolt was never something you got used to. Going from terminal velocity to a speed that was just a fraction of that knocked the breath out of the Colonials as they all slowed under the blossoming canopy of their dark gray parachutes. They each reached for and grabbed their canopy controls and began gliding forward, aiming for a well-defined clearing in the trees at the base of a fairly steep mountain that was now easily visible at their altitude off to their right. Each Colonial checked to be certain he'd lost nothing during the trying experience of their jump, and all of them saw their weapons were still strapped to their body.

"Touchdown in two mikes," Major Damecles called out into his mouthpiece, "Cobra Report status."

A second of the teams all calling out to their men followed on separate channels before they all responded.

"Skull-1 green."

"Skull-2 green."

"Skull-3 green," lastly came from his CAC before he responded.

"Skull-4 green."

Skull was the chosen radio call sign for the commando team. Skull-1 was the sign for first squad, with the two sections being Skull-1-Alpha and Skull-1-Bravo and Skull-2 followed a similar pattern. Normally, Skull-3 was the team's CAC, and Skull-4 was the team commander. It was different than the rest of the military but it was an easy system to remember.

"Feet down," came several times over the comms as the Colonials hit the ground at a running start, yanking their weapons to their shoulders and began scanning in the dark of the night as rain peppered away at their helmets and uniforms.

Each of them checked and rechecked their surroundings as their parachutes clung to the ground drenched from hours of rainfall.

"All Skulls this is Skull-4, ditch your chutes and masks. Rally on the tree-line near the big rock," Major Damecles ordered as he gathered up his parachute after detaching it from himself.

He saw that the other Commandoes were doing likewise, dragging their parachutes over to the massive rock but he was definitely closest. The rally point he'd chosen was an obvious one, a twenty foot tall piece of rock a few meters into the tree-line of dense low-lying foliage dripping wet thanks to the rainstorm that continued to pour down. The Major kept his silenced assault rifle in one hand with the hybrid sight flipped away so all he was looking through was his holographic sight which was colored the standard one dot of red. He'd also attached a laser pointer, flashlight, and an angled grip on his rifle. And he definitely felt that he needed his infrared goggles on his helmet as he was quite blind in the incredible darkness of the night. So when he got to the rock, which was absolutely covered in vines and leaves, he dug out his small but advanced goggles and clipped them to his helmet. But first he donned his team's distinctive balaclava.

He yanked it out, and pulled it over his head, making sure the eye and mouth slits were in place before he pulled his helmet back on. He noticed the rest of the team stacking their parachutes next to and on top of his as they too pulled on their own masks and clipped their night vision goggles to their helmets. He then flipped his goggles down to his face and they switched on automatically at that movement and the clear green tinted view that had become like a second way of seeing greeted him. He looked around with rifle instinctively tucked against his shoulder but aimed downwards.

"Sir I've got Warlord and Chariot on station now, awaiting orders in orbit to conserve fuel," Major Damecles's CAC, Lieutenant Meiros, said calmly signaling that their air cover was ready and waiting.

"Very well," Damecles responded before keying his radio, "All Skulls move to Point Buccaneer, One on the left and Two on the right. Eyes up, there might be roving patrols."

"Roger, Skull One is Oscar-Mike."

"Skull Two is Oscar-Mike."

"Stay tight Meiros," Damecles ordered his right hand man as the two teams advanced forward, guns at the ready, their eyes scanning forward with their night vision systems picking out the terrain with eyes tuned by years of experience and training.

But before he could move out something caught his eye. The massive stone that they'd been gathered around was mostly covered in vines and leaves, but he noticed something about now that he was closer. So he reached over with one hand and yanked at a group of vines and they fell away. What they revealed made him jump back in surprise, before him stood a carved image of a skull. But it wasn't just scratched into the surface. This was artistically carved with curls of embellishments. He also noticed something else, there were more of these skull carvings, well worn by many years of natural wear and tear in an environment such as this. Whatever this was standing before him was not natural.

"What the frak is this?" he wondered aloud before remembering his task ahead. His team was well ahead of him and his CAC was on the other side of the pillar, well into the jungle waiting on him confusion as to what his CO was doing.

"Sir?"

"We'll come back to it later," he shook it off and went back to leading his men as they plowed through the wet forest that quickly soaked them to the bone.

It took about an hour for them to get to where they needed to be, crossing many creeks and crawling under low thick tree branches or over goliath roots that stretched several hundred feet into the air. But so far they'd found nothing in the way of hostiles or signs of their people, or any people for that matter. The team was somewhat winded, but only just so, this was just a warm-up compared to some of the other missions they'd been on.

"Skull Four, this is Skull-One Actual, I have eyes on Target Alpha," Damecles's radio crackled as he pulled out his variable binoculars capable of switching from normal to infrared, to thermal, even ultra-violet modes at times fifteen zoom.

"Roger that," Major Damecles responded, more out of doctrine than anything. He and everyone could see that ship, it was only the biggest thing in the area!

What they saw was a ship that looked more like a metal blob than a sleek warship. Its sides were somewhat ribbed and unnecessarily embroidered. There were no lights on aside from a glint from the nose of the ship that may have been the cockpit or bridge. No weapons appeared visible to the naked eye however, and the ruined buildings around its base covered the bottom half of it where it was landed so they couldn't necessarily get eyes on the entrance to vessel. But it didn't matter, they also had eyes on several individuals through windows and in between the buildings below, if only flashes of them on their thermals. In this weather no one wanted to be out in the rain for an extended period.

"There's a few lights on down there. Their source is in defilade behind those buildings," Damecles said calmly, seeing a glow of light below the ship that must have been where the hatch was open and light from inside was pouring outwards.

"No light discipline," his CAC noted, "No lookouts, nothing to suggest these guys are military."

"No barricades or checkpoints in those ruins either sir," one of the section leaders piped up from next to him.

"Good, an uninterrupted path in. Okay," he said calmly, formulating his plan, "All stations this net, I want our DM's here on overwatch, find a nice spot where they can have an unobstructed view of the ruins. Skull One advance to the southeast corner of town, Two you take northeast, clear each building, knives and suppressed weapons only. We don't want that ship taking off on us with our people."

"Roger that," One replied.

"Skull Two interrogative, do we take prisoners sir?"

"Negative, we can't afford to slow down to take care of that. Once our people are secure then we'll see about taking some of them alive."

That suited them just fine. Missions of this sort had a very clear and simple list of priorities. The first of those superseded all others; save the hostages. And with that the unit proceeded forward as their snipers took up excellent positions right on the tree-line and put their scopes onto a thermal vision setting to clearly distinguish potential targets so they could call them out. When the time came to actually engage they would switch the infrared to positively identify their targets.

The Colonials knew exactly that they were quite vulnerable now that they were out of the treeline and in the open and quickly made their way down the slick slope of the valley to the floor where the first of the traces was placed at the confluence of a large creek that was making enough noise to mask the audible traces of their approach thanks to the influx of rain. The Colonials quickly made their way into the very cold water, the first of them nearly getting swept off his feet by the current that was deceptively powerful.

By now they were using hand signals only, and Major Damecles signaled Skull-1 to cover Skul-2 with a simple hand over his head and pointed to the team moving forward to the six foot high stone terrace that they were starting to carefully maneuver up. The suppressed assault rifles of the Commandoes traced back and forth, aiming for anything threatening their entry as the first of the Colonials made it up the rocks that made up the terrace wall and swept the area with his rifle, seeing nothing but blocks of stone, grass, and small saplings, signaling that the forest was reclaiming this village for itself.

"Clear," the Lieutenant whispered, concerned his hand signal wouldn't be seen.

The rest of his section made it up quickly, joining him against the slicked down mossy and vine covered building whose roof had caved in at the corner of the cobblestone road. Section One followed right behind them, maneuvering to the other side of the road and the Major went right behind them along with his CAC and went with Section One to the southeast corner of town and began making their way into the ruined buildings, which ranged from mostly intact to just a few walls with blocks scattered all over the ground, making the trek through the village rather taxing as each step was wrought with the danger of slipping or knocking over something and making noise.

"Skull-1 Mike," the voice of the first squad's marksman called out on the radio, "Eyes on times two contacts on the other side of your building, moving away."

Then someone tapped the Major as he was covering a side alley as Section One carefully cleared a mostly intact two story building that had a tree growing right through the middle of it. He looked to see the senior most NCO signal with two fingers to his eyes signaling he had eyes on target and then two fingers to indicate two and then held one hand over his arm to indicate they were hostiles.

Damecles carefully maneuvered his way to a position to be able to see. And he saw the two contacts alright, one was wearing a long baggy coat with boots and a wrap around his face and in his hands he held a large staff with bulbous spearhead-like tip with a paddle-like portion on the other end. The second one had an iron helmet over his entire head and a patchwork of armor shimmering in the light of the lantern in his hand and in the other hand was a small staff with two silver prongs on the tip and a sharp point on the rear portion. Both men were chattering in a language the Colonials didn't understand and wobbled out as if under the influence of quite a bit of alcohol or some other sedative-like drug. They were completely unaware of the dangers closing in on them.

From here Damecles could see the obvious lighting coming off of the ship landed now at one hundred and fifty meters away. The two hostiles were stumbling towards it without the slightest hurry despite the continuing rainstorm coming down on top of them with the occasional crash of thunder and flash of lightning. Damecles knew that he had a chance to eliminate two of them right here but decided to follow them.

"Skull-1 Mike hold fire," he ordered quietly, "Check for any other hostiles nearby. All squads continue forward movement."

"Skull-4, Skull-1 Actual, eyes on Target Alpha landing zone. Count three hostiles standing at a large building below the ship."

"Roger that, interrogative, did you engage any targets?" Damaecles asked.

"That's a negative."

"Alright roger that," Damecles said quietly.

"Break, break, break," the radio all of a sudden chirped loudly from the same Captain, "Eyes on hostage, repeat eyes on hostage. One contact is bringing her out of some sort of defilade where the others are standing around. Believe that's where our people are being held."

"Skull Two Mike confirms. One hostile, one hostage, arms appear to be restrained," their other sniper called out.

It was now that Damecles saw the pair making their way down the street towards them. They passed the two drunks and they gave him a shout and a laugh as they passed. The girl was definitely Colonial, she was wearing a shirt with the Picon Astrological University seal. She was quite a pretty little thing, and wasn't that large which made the man dragging her away that much larger. He himself was wearing a long overcoat and a bandana around his head while he held in his free hand an exotic knife with a notch taken out of the point to make two prongs. His face had what could only be described as an evil smile upon it and there was no real guesswork as to what his intention was with this young Colonial.

"No…no please," the Commandoes could now hear her begging desperately only for the man to grab her by her hair and shove her forward, ever closer to the waiting Skulls.

"Sir!" his CAC hissed, the blood fuming anger burning in his voice.

Damecles felt the exact same way, and he was definitely going to let himself fold to this type of rage. He had a daughter just starting high school in a few days and at that moment he saw a girl that could be his own little girl. So the rage for him was that of a vengeful father, even though this girl was not his blood.

So he looked to the two NCO's next to him and pointed to the two of them and then to the enemy and hostage with a movement with one hand around his neck. He then took both hands made a movement across his neck that signaled them to eliminate him in a very specific manner. Each Commando had a thin piece of wire with two steel rods on each end made for a very simple purpose, a purpose they would find use in this night.

The two NCO's looked out at the two approaching them and saw the man shove the girl right into a building just next to them. By now the features on them were quite clear and detailed through their infrared goggles. The man's trench coat was well worn, with several patches woven into it and on his arm they now saw some an almost snake-like object in a holder on his forearm. They saw that he too had a slight wobble in his step. But whether it was a limp or the effects of a long night of drinking or getting high was beyond them. They now heard the sound of chains clinking together but didn't see any chains but were able to guess that the girl was bound with primitive restraints.

The man shoved her inside the small covered building and they were so close by now that they heard the sound of straw crunching beneath what could only have been her falling down. So now the Commandoes took their chance. The lead NCO carefully unwound his wire and held both ends in his hands and stepped out into the alley between the two buildings. He peeked into the building to see the man take off his coat and now heard the girl start whimpering, a prayer to Athena by the sound of it. With that in his mind he and his backup moved quickly around to the entrance to see the man's back turned and the girl on her side below him, her face against the ground and eyes shut tightly.

It happened in a flash from there. The lead NCO crossed his arms before lunging, creating a large loop the target's head would easily fit into and pulled it over his head and yanked his arms, hard. The thin metal wire made contact across his neck, and thanks to its thin construction and the rage-induced force it began cutting into the man's neck. Blood leaked from the ever increasing wounds as he gasped and tried weakly grabbing for what it was that was killing him. But the damage was done, and he slipped from this world after only a few seconds of brutal strangulation.

By now the second Colonial NCO rushed in as the young hostage looked up at hearing the struggle and saw her attempted rapist effectively dying as a man in all black was dragging him down as another man in all black with a rifle in hand. She was just about to scream before the Commando put a finger to her lips.

"Shh…Colonial Commandoes ma'am," he whispered to her as his comrade took out his combat knife for one last measure to be sure the pirate was dead. With that knife he stabbed clean through the man's temple, where the bone of the skull was thinnest, "You're okay now, he's dead."

The girl was now squinting her eyes quite a bit, trying to see exactly who it was that was saving her.

"I-I lost my glasses," she whispered.

"It's okay," the man said as the Major walked in with the CAC.

"Friendlies coming in," he said calmly as he now took a knee next to the girl the sergeant was now bringing up to her knees, "Ma'am I'm Major Damecles, Colonial Special Forces, we're here to rescue you and the rest of the crew and passengers from your ships."

"Thank the Gods," the girl sighed, the tension and fear seeming to melt away as she leaned heavily into the arms of her rescuers.

"I need to ask you some questions alright?" the Major said calmly, getting her to open her eyes and look him the face as he flipped his goggles up and got a nod from her, "How many of bad guys are there?"

"I don't know," she hoarsely whispered, "Maybe twenty."

"Okay that's good," he replied as he continued, "Are there any other hostages in the ship?"

"They took some of the other girls into the ship, they hadn't returned. They've…they…" she started sniffling, trying to hold back tears.

"How many?"

"Seven, eight…I don't know," she stuttered.

"It's okay, no one else is gonna suffer that. I promise."

"They said we'd fetch a nice price. They were going to sell us," she now whispered.

"Not today," the Major growled, and a similar sentiment was echoed by one of the other Commandoes.

"And not ever."

"All stations this net, move to the center of town, time now. Hostage reports that there are at least twenty hostiles in the AO and some of our people are in the ship."

"Roger that, moving."

"Both mikes, get down from overwatch and look after the hostage," he ordered now to their marksmen and then turned to his CAC, "Contact our air cover, if that ship starts taking off they need to know our people might be aboard."

"Roger."

He heard the man start talking on the radio as the section he was with began moving up. He signaled the two other men to move up with the others and he'd look after her. Thankfully the man had fished out an iron key that he'd taken and unlocked the girl's chains and then gave her a drink from a water bottle he'd fished out of his backpack. He'd checked over her for any injuries only to see a couple of bruises and minor cuts as she huddled in a corner, well out of the way.

"Skull-2 we've eliminated two contacts and we're in position," his radio called out.

At that moment he heard movement outside the building.

"Friendlies coming in," he heard from the two snipers who'd pretty much sprinted down to be with them.

"You guys sure double timed it down here," the Major said as both men ducked in, "Alright keep her safe we're going after the other hostages."

"Sir, I've Host of Hades on standby with a Rover dropship to rapidly exfil," his CAC called out as the two of them ran out.

"Excellent, alert them that we'll be making our assault," the Major said, "All squads pick out your targets. Once groundside targets are down we're breaching that ship. Flash only, no explosives, our people are in there."

He got acknowledgements from both Captains who he heard pass it on to their Lieutenants and then ran into the street to where he saw Skull One's Breaching section was in place and could just barely make out their weapons section as well hidden behind a low wall, their lasers pointed at each of the three targets standing around and patrolling. One had one of the smaller staffs with the two points on the end and another had the larger type while a third had a smaller weapon that seemed like a pistol with a cylinder coming to a point along with a large cylinder below it with a red dot on the end. The two roving two hostiles they'd seen first were also standing below where one of guards was standing chatting it up, again in a language they couldn't pick out.

"Skull-1 has targets locked in, ready to take them out."

"Skull-2 are you in position?"

"That's an affirm, want us to breach into the ship?" the Captain asked again after confirming what the Major wanted to hear.

"Alright Skull-1, take them out."

The silenced weapons of the breaching team opened fire, their pops being barely loud enough to hear over the rainstorm. And in the wet conditions the wet clothes and patchwork of armor plates on their targets let loose anywhere from a two to five spouts of water droplets that went flying from the low velocity impacts. They all tumbled down, their bodies just collapsing signaling that each was dead. Then an additional pair of hostiles rushed up from defilade, only to be shot immediately by the Major and the Lieutenant following him.

"Go!" Damecles ordered and the group of Colonials rushed forward at a quick walk with rifles tucked to their shoulders or silenced pistols in their hands as the machine guns weren't able to mount suppressors.

They could now hear talking from what could only have been the hostages and Major Damecles advanced himself online with the rest of Skull One. They quickly summited a mound of ruined blocks and up a few flights of stairs to see a low grassy area shielded from the rain by the ship overhead. Below them were their people, all huddled together in an area that could have been a stadium of some sort for all they knew. He saw one of the hostiles crawling towards his weapon which had rolled down onto a step below him. In the green tinted goggles Damecles saw a trail of blood behind where the pirate had dragged himself. So he walked over and kicked the man onto his side and saw nothing of his face, just a gray cloth wrapped around his face. This just made what he did next that much easier. Because what he did next was that he put two bullets right between his eyes and with the contempt he had with all terrorists and pirates he kicked the lifeless body down the stairs with little effort to the feet of the Colonial hostages.

There were dozens of Colonial civilians here, with their hands chained behind their backs. It might take some time to count them all but by the looks of it Major Damecles was certain that this was at all of them save for the handful of girls that had been taken into the ship.

Speaking of which, Damecles heard a string of suppressed gunshots and turned to see two hostiles tumbling down the ramp into the ship with the whole of Skull Two charging full force into the ship. Loud bangs signaled their breaching and strings of gunshots echoed from within the ship where their suppressors weren't nearly as effective as they were here in the open. He couldn't help himself now, seeing the group of Commandoes sweeping inside with hardly any resistance and no audible return fire.

He flipped his goggles up and ran up the ramp rifle in hand and saw three bodies in the immediate area of the breach. Smoke was settling in a thin dispersing cloud in the tall golden ceilings which matched the extremely oddly crafted walls. They were enormously intricate, having symbols of all shapes aligned in rows along their surface and lighting the area were large golden torches with raging fires lit within them. Boxes with Colonial markings littered the floor, obviously taken from the ships in orbit. And shell casings were scattered everywhere along with more bodies he saw.

These bodies were now quite exotic he saw. Some wore a patchwork of armor. Some had coats or shirts, some had no shirts. There were several what appeared to be weapons laying on the floor next to them along with knives which they may have drawn in the absence of their usual weapons. He counted six so far before he entered what was some sort of mess area.

Two rows of tables with numerous chairs of many different designs and sizes were at both of them which were covered in plates of food leftovers, exotic bottles and glasses, and on one of them the bleeding body of a pirate with a fine white robe which was colored red from the blood seeping from eight bullet holes in his chest. Eight more bodies were laying all over the floor without any weapons nearby, effectively making this an execution.

But what Damecles saw next made him grimly satisfied. A line of nine young women in various states of distress with blankets over their shoulders were being led out quite quickly by two Commandoes whose eyes met the Major's and he could see the rage still burning in their eyes. He gave them a nod as they passed and then moved to the arching doorway to where he saw one of his men holding three of these bastards on their knees with their hands on their heads against the wall. Each was whimpering and whispering, in a very similar state as their first hostage had been in.

"They ran from that mess hall before they surrendered sir," the man said, "We think at least two more of them have barricaded themselves in the bridge."

"Where?"

"Up those stairs sir, Bravo's setting a charge to dislodge them now."

"Very well," Damecles responded and started walking off and saw that his CAC had joined him, "Lieutenant tie their hands and secure them. If they move, shoot 'em."

"I hope you frakkers try it," the man said grimly as he wrenched one's hands behind his back, "Come on try it!" he then yelled into one's ear only to get what could only have been begging from his prisoner in return.

"Don't worry," the Lieutenant said calmly as he took plastic ties and yanked them tight on their wrists, "Remember we've got Admiral Cain up there."

"Oh yeah…you're dead shit you know that?!" the NCO yelled into another's ear after pulling him back by the hair, "You may think we're bad just wait until the Admiral has you shot out of a Viper tube!"

The Major ignored the man taking his pleasure in torturing their prisoners. Truth be told he wanted to just shoot them, but that decision now that the situation was just about secure was beyond his pay grade. And he was certain that Admiral Cain would be rather cross if she didn't do the deed herself to at least one of them after she got the debriefing. There was no doubt in his mind that these pirates were dead one way or another.

Location: Unknown Planet, Mountain Mesa

Recon One had decided not to follow the advice of the alien. There was a great deal of argument about it but in the end Colonel Black had said they were staying. From what the away team led by Agent Fraser had reported both creatures were quite technologically advanced. One had a shield of some sort that even blocked their twenty-millimeter rockets. And the other had a weapon that breached that shield. So the next obvious course of action was to find where it had been making its camp and see if it left any goodies behind. And there was one obvious place to go looking.

Colonel Black had led the other half of the military contingent up the mesa, looking for a cave or camp of some sort. He'd brought along both of his tech experts, Dr. Cruz and Dr. Wimmer, to help out while he left the rest of the civilians and the rather brutalized members of Squad One back at basecamp. His team hadn't needed to go very far up the steep slope of the mesa before they came upon a sign they were close, and a pungent sign it was.

"Now that frakking stinks," one of his troops grumbled lowly as the Colonials made their way up the slope.

"We're close," Gunney Bradley said calmly, pulling the charging handle of his SAW back to load a fresh round.

"There," Colonel Black declared, "That overhang's no overhang. There's a cave."

"Makes sense that a furry creature would shelter there. It's well within reach of water and food," Dr. Cruz noted as he adeptly jumped across a slight gorge, standing straight up far more comfortably than the rest of the troops.

"Get down Doc," Black said waving him back as he noticed how exposed he was.

"If there were another creature we would know it by now," the techie responded calmly.

"Just let us lead," one of the troops said as Cruz helped his much less athletic assistant across.

"Fine by me, just don't touch anything without me being there."

"Wait for us to tell you to come in," Lieutenant Bragg ordered the man as the Colonials started getting close.

Black shook his head, wondering at how immune to the dangers this man was. He now lead the way up a much less steep incline that led to the tall but thin opening into the cave. And once inside the full force of that musky odor hit him full on. It was surprisingly well lit by a small hole in the ceiling that showed them just what was inside.

"Jackpot!" Lieutenant Bragg called out as she followed the Colonel inside, seeing the many different objects scattered along the walls of the medium sized cave.

The cave was well used, and the stench and well established campfire in the middle of the floor was evidence of that. Stacked against the walls were several different sized and shaped staffs. Some had bulbous ends and were at least five or six feet long. There were a couple shorter versions and other types that had two prongs on one end colored in silver. There were also gold trinkets with red jewels on them of all sorts of shapes and sizes. There were silver balls, small gold balls, and each of them intricately embellished. And there were also many other types of things along with many golden and silver coins in neat stacks all over the walls in dug out hollows.

"Don't touch anything, it might kill you," Cruz butted in grabbing both her and Colonel Black as he entered.

"What did we just tell you?" Black snapped.

"If I'd stayed out there one of you could be dead. Curiosity has a habit of being deadly. Fortunately I'm here."

"And what's to stop this stuff from killing you?"

"Well," the man said calmly, snapping on a pair of latex gloves, "I have a great many pieces of paper called degrees that say I'm a qualified scientist."

Lieutenant Bragg audibly scoffed at him as he now pulled out a Geiger Counter and started sweeping back and forth. The device clicked audibly, but nothing to suggest that it was reaching anywhere close to dangerous levels in the vicinity. By now Dr. Wimmer had also entered the cave and Dr. Cruz took the case she had been carrying and then opened it beside the one he'd taken his Geiger Counter out of.

"Go ahead and collect a few of these coins after you put on some gloves," he instructed his young assistant.

"I'm gonna test for an electric current before I touch them," she said, pulling out the device in question and plugged in the insulated cord.

"Gold doesn't conduct electricity, does it?" Bragg asked, crouching down next to her as she started cautiously tapping the coins.

"Who said they're made of gold?" Dr. Wimmer calmly said quietly as she continued.

After checking to be sure that they were perfectly safe to touch she reached out and picked up a coin. But as she did that a loud electrical whooshing sound sounded out and a sudden blast of heat flashed in front of them. Then as soon as that happened a cloud of dust exploded outwards as it hit the sandstone cave wall. They all turned to see Dr. Cruz holding one of the taller staffs with a its end spread out into quarters and then aimed right at the wall in front of them.

"Hmm…interesting," the young man said with an intrigued tone and then aimed the weapon again, this time further away from everyone.

But Colonel Black yanked it away before he could do anything else.

"Do that again I'll aim it at you."

"Like I said, these things are dangerous."

Alright, finally. This one is a ton longer than any other chapter before it. Once I got going on that Colonial rescue mission I couldn't stop. And it turned out great, so what do you guys think?

Next Chapter Preview: The Colonials have their revenge, but have enraged a new enemy, an enemy that has no idea what they're in for.