Kazak and Volx waited outside after an initial incursion. This was strange to both of them...a processing center, but no cloning equipment apparent, and it was inactive? Strange...very strange… The others rolled up in another vehicle, getting out. "You guys get any more information about this place from the higher ups? This place gives me the creeps."
"Same, and I don't spook easily," Volx chimed in.
Rem, Aero, Rha, and Vard all disembarked from the appropriated light reconnaissance vehicle. A common sight around Devastis and often the primary mode of transportation for non-commissioned and officer alike. Anything to save refined fusion cells for other, more important crafts taking priority.
The tallest irken present gave a whistle of impression as she looked up at the massive construct of a facility. It wasn't exactly subtle given the scope of construction with a rather peculiar type of architecture. An "almost but not quite" usual fare to Imperial engineering. An older styling. Fewer sleek, sloping curves. More angular and utilitarian. The facility, clearly inoperable and unoccupied, was not exactly easy to miss, yet Devastis infrastructure grew up near and around it as if forgotten to time.
"Maan...this place is huge." She commented, releasing her shotgun from its magnetic latch on her back to take hold at-the-ready.
Vard, already busy tapping away at his wrist-mounted dataslate, accessing long-dormant files pertaining to the location, he shook his head. "Nothing is immediately jumping out, Sir. Only that this facility was deactivated a very long time ago. It has since been decommissioned and unused...but the Empire rarely leaves any assets, active or otherwise, unoccupied like this...strange."
"Maybe there's a monster in there that'll wear your skin as a new hat or something," Rha snickered, loading a fresh HE shell into his underslung grenade launcher in preparation. "After the past few weeks on this depressing rock, it wouldn't surprise me none."
"Nah, no monsters...maybe there's ghosts."
"Shut up!" Aero insisted, feeling her skin crawl.
"What, you scared?" Rha teased; anything to alleviate the stress from earlier aboard their ship. "Big, bad special forces operator afraid of the dark?"
"I'm not afraid...it's-" She snapped her fingers, trying to remember the word. "Instinct. Intuition. Spooch feeling, that, yeah...something feels really off 'bout this place. I don't like it. Not one bit."
"Doesn't matter if you like it or not," Volx interrupted, cell-checking her rifle, ensuring the loaded power cell was fresh and fully-charged. "Just here to investigate the anomaly. Likely a little base of operations for those two in the brig. Stay focused, keep it tight, and watch out for any of their gadgets or traps."
"Yes, Ma'am." Aero sighed with reluctance.
"Good...regroup on me, move it out." The black-eyed Lieutenant motioned over her head with the known hand-signal before proceeding towards the door. "Vard, work your magic."
"On it, Ma'am." The small Tech Specialist abided, approaching the weathered, lightly-corroded set of double doors long since magnetically-sealed. "Rha, double-check for any triggers or pressure-plates before I touch anything."
"You got it, big guy."
Kazak peered inside through a filthy window, it all looked dark, no sources of light inside. Rha gave the all clear and Vard went to work. In short order, a loud clunk sounded, allowing the team to move inside the dust covered halls. Kazak pulled up a cloth around his neck to cover the lower half of his face. Some older Imperial propaganda adorned the walls, this was clearly the entrance used by those who worked in the facility. Up ahead, an abandoned checkpoint meant to check in arrivals. Kazak tried the interior door, finding it locked and unable to budge. Something of an airlock system.
"Vard, I doubt this place has power...on the off chance it does, see if you can't remotely hack this thing and cycle it. Otherwise we may just have to have Rha blow the door off."
"Yes, Sir," Vard nodded, moving past his teammates as they cautiously scanned at low-ready. As far as they were aware, the threat on Devastis had been neutralized. No reason to be on high alert in an abandoned facility on one of the Empire's most secure worlds...right?
The short Irken male tapped at his dataslate, brow furrowing behind his violet goggles.
"Huh...interesting."
"What is it?" Aero queried, curious as she tapped the side of her visor, activating the low-light mode.
"I can't wirelessly interface with the facility's systems...at all."
"Are you sure it isn't an unused frequency or different system architecture? This place does look ancient." Rha offered.
"No, no, it isn't that. I could figure that out through the process of elimination. It just...doesn't have wireless capability. There's absolutely zero signals being broadcasted save for our presence."
"Please tell me it's time for a kicker charge then," Rha chuckled. "I love blowin' stuff up."
"Don't get ahead of yourself, let me try to unlock first." Vard abstained much to his disappointment as he procured a series of cables and connectors from one of his pouches to hardline his dataslate to the interface's access panel.
"Might wanna get it open before the big scary monsters get Aero."
"I'm gonna get you if you don't knock it off, Rha." She growled at him.
"Knock it off, both of you." Volx coldly cut through them, turning her attention to Vard. "What's the hold up, Vard?"
"Apologies, Ma'am...this system architecture is...ancient. I've seen some outdated firmware and programming...but this is almost archeologist-worthy...let's...try...this…" He emphasized with keystrokes.
A bright, red flashing light came to life above the door, spinning as a klaxon sounded...the sort of doors often seen in containment facilities that warned when the exterior doors were allowing access to the outside world. A pneumatic hiss blasted them as the magnetic lock released, dusting them with centuries-old stale air before the doors split in twain, slowly receding on their tracks void of grease, squealing and grinding loudly before opening to reveal a pitch-black corridor.
"Door opened...and no one's been through this one in a very long time. Surprised it even works still." The technical expert commented.
"Means moving forward, this facility hasn't been cleared yet." Volx commented. "Aero, take point."
"Why me?" She whined.
"She's scared, I knew it."
"Back off," Vard defended her. "After the day we've all had, I don't blame her."
"Hey, relax, Vard, I was ju-"
"I don't care." He interrupted. "She stared down the barrel of her own weapon and almost became a head shorter from one of those VDF special forces guys in the brig."
"Fine, jeez," Rha huffed, moving past them as he looked to Volx. "I'll take point, Ma'am."
"Very well. Aero, our six."
"Yes, Lieutenant."
Kazak withdrew a flashlight taken off one of the Vortian prisoners earlier while he scanned the facility with his machine pistol in his primary hand. "This place is...When you think of processing centers, you tend to think of Irken just waiting to have their PAKs activated, not...this." He kept looking around, seeing a four way split, the hallway in front of them indicating it continued to the main facility, to the left locker rooms for the personnel who worked there, and to the right, offices. "Volx, you think we should split up? Couple of us check out that locker room while the rest of you check the offices?"
Rha, at the front of the stack moving down the corridor in the pitch-black darkness with ease thanks to their visor settings, he stopped as he saw Kazak's flashlight dance across one of the walls leading into the facility.
"Whoa, whoa, wait...right there," He pointed, Kazak moving the light source back over it. In old, stenciled-painted letters fading, chipping, and cracking on the bare concrete walls, he saw something. "Processing...Center...Zero-Seven...huh...don't look like no processing center I've ever seen. Usually they just...hatch you, slap a PAK on you, and throw you in the sims until you're old enough to carry a rifle."
"This place seems pretty old," Vard reminded him, looking around himself. "Maybe that wasn't how they did things back then."
"What do you mean?"
"The whole hatching, PAKing, and sim-training...maybe that wasn't a thing yet." He reasoned logically, echoing a conversation Vult had with Turb unbeknownst to him prior.
"No way, Irken have always had PAKs."
"Far as we know...just imagine the things you don't know...and our unit knows a lot."
"Cut the chatter," Volx reminded, taking it all in herself, all of their helmet feeds recording as they moved. "Too many unknowns, Lieutenant...unless Vard produces schematics and layout of this place, let's not risk getting lost or trapped down here."
"Thank Irk," Aero muttered from the back of the stack.
"All right, we'll sweep the offices first, backtrack, then check the locker rooms before we move on." He moved to his right, keeping an eye out for any possible traps. The block to the offices had all the doors ajar. He continued on, it was a hallway with a block of six rooms on the side, and one at the end. Walking to the end of the hall, there was a name next to the door General Krad, the facility's commandant. "Cap', you hear us?"
Corr's voice broke through, "Yes, for now. What is it?"
"Do you know anything about a General Krad?"
"Yes," he wasn't going to unveil that the name came up in the disc he was looking over, "He's portrayed as one of the heroes in a war that unified all Irken people once and for all. After that, he ran several processing centers on Devastis, but had a particular fondness for zero seven."
"Well, I hope you like looking at a dead guy's office on the feed, we found it." Kazak started looking around, the office still had all the computer equipment inside, old, really old. A few empty weapon displays on the wall with others occupied. He opened the desk, finding a bottle of booze that had its contents long since evaporate. An old box of 9mm mass accelerated slugs he pocketed, and a few documents in the center drawer of the desk. Sitting in the dust covered chair, he gave them a brief once over.
"Whoa...look at this stuff…" Rha commented, looking around the room. "Never seen guns like those before."
"Yeah, and this dialect of Irken is...weird." Vard added as he carefully dusted off items sitting on the desk. Things that were very well-preserved given the apparent age of the facility. "How old is this place?"
One document going out to all the workers in the facility praising them in all three divisions: Punishment, Reeducation, and Deactivation. The second instructed a spool down of operations as the "Grand Program" was finally rolling out to the masses, referencing the kill switch within the PAKs, and that the facility would no longer be needed. With facilities 01 through 06 transferring all their prisoners to 07 for the duration. The last one, that 07 was to cease all operations and close its doors. That the facility, along with the others like it, would remain for future processing, and in case the Grand Program failed and their services would once more be required.
"What the shit?" Kazak picked up a word he heard from the Vortians and noticed a button on the desk. He pressed it, hearing a click and then a metallic clunk on the floor. He looked down and picked up an old Irken 9mm mass accelerated handgun. At least he found out what that ammo went to. "Now this...is antiquated…" He pulled the slide back slightly from the front and found it was still loaded, the slug within had a light sheen from its last cleaning. "Still loaded...lubricant's caked on the slug." He stashed it as a trophy. "Anyone find anything in the other offices?"
Rem, Aero, and Lieutenant Volx had slowly worked their way through the other open offices. Nameplates on desks signified other military officials, subordinates to General Krad. An awful lot of high-ranking brass in one particular location of seemingly unimportance. Krad's second-in-command and Center Operations Manager, a Colonel Verruk, had framed still imagery on his desk. Volx, rifling through the Colonel's office for anything of use or interest to their mission, saw the images. Curious, she lifted the largest one, wiping the sheen of dust from the glass encasing it.
"What...the…" She commented in disbelief, staring at the image as she stormed out of the office to find Kazak. "Lieutenant. Eyes. Look at this, make sure I'm not crazy."
Kazak stood from the seat, his imprint left in the dust as he walked over to the Colonel's office and looked at the picture in question. Though it wasn't visible, his jaw dropped as his pistol fell to the floor. She wasn't crazy. That was Verruk, his wife...and children, none of whom had PAKs. "No...no you're not crazy…" He leaned down to pick up his pistol. "Cap, you said this place was abandoned centuries ago? Not millennia?"
"Correct."
"...That's...we just saw a picture of a family who didn't have PAKs." He heard a loud clang from another office, running into the office Aero was in to find it was just an old armor rack that fell over. "Oh, thank goodness….you good, Aero?"
"No!" She yelped before regaining her composure with a whine. "This place is weirding me out, Sir...Something feel's off...waaaay off."
"That's impossible," Rha challenged. "The Empire took to the stars thousands of years ago, we've had PAKs since then."
"The dates on some of these documents and technology in this facility say otherwise, Corporal." Rem commented to her own disbelief as she shone a light on the armor stand Aero bumped into and knocked over. "Look at that...no plastoids...no polymers...that's all metal alloy. Rigid. You don't need to be a historian to know that's ancient tech there. It's not even vacuum-sealed or space-rated...just a wearable shield more or less."
Volx, getting the feeling they were onto something, began picking up other similar framed stills from the Colonel's office and the others. Purposely holding them up so her helmet feed would get a good, clear picture of them in focus, she documented them before placing them in her gear.
"Captain Corr is somewhat knowledgeable in our history. Anything that we can pack out of here that appears to be of some importance, document it. If it's small enough, take it. Something strange is going on here and we're going to get to the bottom of it."
"Rha, grab one of those carbines off the General's wall and toss it here." Rha nodded, walking back to the office where he broke the glass. Kazak opened the front of the armor that fell over, pulling out a shattered ceramic plate. "Look at this...ceramic composite? Ballistic protection rating information? This hasn't been used in ages. Plasma would melt through this stuff easy."
"Here you go, sir!" Rha tossed him the rifle, the sniper catching it and looking it over. "Shit," he pulled back on the charging handle once he found it, noticing an old fashioned bolt...with a firing pin. "This is...this is ancient. This is old school gunpowder." He released the bolt and slid the rifle into a rucksack on his back, it stuck out, but that was of little consequence. "Everyone, you heard Volx, I need to grab those documents." He went back to the General's office to grab those memos and then helped sweep the other offices.
Some time passed as the team canvassed the offices as ordered by Volx. Every drawer, cabinet, and file folder was accessed, even if that meant practicing a little lockpicking or breaking locks with the stock of a weapon. Documents were scanned and still images preserved. Anytime a physical storage device for the facility's terminals was discovered, Vard cataloged it and threw it into a growing pile in one of his pouches.
"How we looking?" Volx queried of Vard as he organized the storage devices in his gear, making sure they wouldn't get damaged in transit.
"Short of packing everything not bolted down, the offices aren't going to get swept and clearer, Ma'am. We worked our way through the personnel lockers as well."
"Anything of use or interest?"
"Mostly personal effects. Photographs, personal identification cards, items of sentimental value."
"A lot of closed environment suits. Respirators. The sort of thing you see in clean rooms and sterile environments."
"Medical?"
"Possibly. Given the nature of this facility? Doubtful." He reasoned.
Volx nodded, keying her mic to the squad. "Alright, regroup in the hallway. Need to proceed on task and locate the VDF operatives' mode of transportation onto Devastis and secure it."
The team backtracked, just briefly checking the locker room once more, but not much more revealed than what was already found. Just some notices to those stationed on 'Level 3' that they need to acquire protective equipment before starting their shift. With that room clear, they entered the first wing of the facility through yet another door like the one they came in. It led to another hallway, one to move deeper into the facility, and a pair of doors. One was a typical metal door, the other was bars on a sliding mechanism. Kazak shined the light inside, revealing a prison cell block, looked like it was built to old maximum security standards...though such a thing now would be considered minimum security. "Well...I guess this is the punishment wing…" He looked up at the door's slider, seeing the wheels rusted to the rails. "Seized. If they'd have been through here, this would probably be broken. Let's move on."
At the other end was the staff elevator and a door to the stairs. Heading up the stairs was a door with a fist shaped hole, from inside the stairwell, above the door handle. After Rha checked for explosives, they opened the door to the "Reeducation" section...it opened to the staff hall and a forced open door on the other end. The Vortians had been through here, but this didn't seem like the way they came in. Once they found it was clear of traps, Kazak heaved a sigh of relief.
"What in the…" He stopped, looking at the others, "Look around. This...this doesn't seem right." He kept walking, past various cells, stopping at a storage room door. Rather than use his plasma pistol, he drew the General's old pistol and pulled the trigger, firing one shot, and then another. The thing still worked… Stowing it, he pushed the door open, finding a closet full of first generation PAKs...PAKs that were awaiting installation. "...Volx...please tell me I've suffered a traumatic brain injury…"
Much like the rest of the unit, the sudden discharge of an unfamiliar-sounding weapon put everyone on edge. Weapons went to high-ready and scanning started, thinking it was more of the VDF operatives. Thankfully, it was just Kazak busting a locked door with a special "key" to gain access.
What he produced from the room wrought confusion and chilled the blood in Volx's normally cold veins as she accepted the device he handed to her. A PAK...someone's life in her hands...but these were...strange-looking. Angular, not round like theirs. Flatter. No points of access, just secured panels likely covering access ports for diagnostics.
"...is this what I think it is?" She queried, looking to their resident tech expert, handing it to him.
Hesitantly, Vard accepted the device, turning it over in his hands, looking at it. He ran his palm over the backside of it, the two ports sensed the heat and pressure, immediately ejecting a pair of small, barbed spikes, narrowly missing his hand as he jerked it back.
"Phew...uh...yeah..this is a PAK...it just tried to "interface" with my hand."
"Why are they in a storage room?" Rha queried, feeling more uneasy about all of this. Maybe Aero's intuition wasn't her being afraid of nothing. "Don't PAK's self-destruct after you bite the dust? No heartbeat or brain activity and they-" he motioned with his hands and made the sound effect of an explosion with his mouth.
"Typically, yes...but these don't look like typical PAKs...like the rest of this place, they're old...early models, maybe?" He deduced. "I honestly couldn't tell you more short of peeling these panels off and accessing it."
"Can you?" Volx queried, looking to him as he looked over the device still with morbid curiosity.
"Probably...not sure if I want to with what we've seen so far of this place." Vard uneasily spoke, wary of the protruding spikes as he set it back down. Another one caught his eye. Very similar in design to the rows of others on the shelves, but slightly larger with a noticable, blocky protrusion with a very clear access panel on the protrusion. "...that one...it's different. Hand it here."
Volx stepped forward, past Kazak, picking it up. Much heavier. Supporting its weight with both hands she handed it off to the shorter Tech Specialist.
"...that's what I thought...t-this one...this one…" He stammered, trying to not get caught up in his own drawn conclusions and excitement. "...this one has a data drive in it...a physical storage source...I...I...I think someone is inside this one. A consciousness."
"What? Why?" Rha incredulously commented. "That's crazy-talk, Vard. It's a big, bulky PAK...old tech, nothing else."
"Yeah, maybe...but think about it for a second...compare us to...the Vortians, for example. They live natural lives, right? Organics, unafflicted by anything other than their natural minds…" He hesitated, realizing he was about to out himself about his involvement with Turb and his fellow squadmates unhooked from the Control Brains. "...I think...these were the transition between that and what we are now...the digitizing process."
Kazak looked over both of the PAKs, dumbfounded. He took the first one devoid of a drive and strapped it to the rucksack's exterior, making sure the barbs are pointing out. Then he looked to the one with the drive integrated in it. "That's...you think it might even still be preserved after all this time? I think we should take it all the same." He paused wiping his face briefly. "I'm starting to see why I had a chill down my spine here and there." He looked back at the closet full of PAKs, seeing none other apparent with a drive.
"I-I don't know, Sir...it could be empty and nothing at all...but I know physical storage when I see it. There's no other reason why that one is slightly different than the others and much heavier." Vard admitted. "Once we get it back to the ship I can take a closer look at it...I don't want to risk damaging it here trying to force my way into it."
Volx nodded at that assessment. "Makes sense. Secure it, catalog it. Let's keep moving. We need to find that vessel...sooner the better so we can get out of this place."
"Agreed. 100% Very much so." Aero swallowed, trying to stay calm. "This all feels...wrong. Very, very wrong. I'm pretty sure those weird stains in the cells down through there is blood."
"Maybe, could be water stains. This place is old and falling apart," Rem attempted to play devil's advocate...mostly to allay her own thoughts.
"Water stains aren't green, Rem. You know what's green? Blood!" Her voice echoed down the empty concrete corridors.
"Shh! Keep it down!" Volx hissed. "Calm down. Keep it together."
Aero shakily nodded, catching her breath.
Kazak picked up another empty PAK for a backup for Vard to look over. Two empties and the seemingly 'occupied one. "Yeah...let's get out of here...swear in the back of my head I can hear some people screaming." He headed back out and to the stairwell. As they went up another flight of stairs, the door was kicked open and impacted against the wall, a Vortian footprint apparent. They were getting closer now. "Through here, be careful." The third sector of the facility...with some old fashioned gas masks strewn about the floor as they walked in. Various 'Chambers' and some trails from where their former nuisance made their way in and out. "Trail of dust should lead us right towards their ship. But clear the rooms, make sure they don't have any spring loaded turrets or some silliness."
Carefully and diligently, they all set forth to clear the rooms. "Chambers", they were marked outside on the walls. The magnetically-sealing doors were all rolled back in their recesses, stuck open. Panels to them on the walls had long since lost power. No illumination whatsoever. Aero, much like her fellow teammates, chose a separate room to check.
Lights active on her helmet and near the muzzle of her weapon, she began to scan the room. Plain, metal walls of the coldest, gunmetal gray...and clawmarks...scratches. Stains...more stains...furrows in the metal and stains to accompany. Hesitantly she let her weapon hang on its sling across her chest, tugging off one of her gloves to reveal a plain, green, three-fingered hand...Irken hand...and lifted it to the wall.
Her heart stopped as she rested the tips of her claws in a pair of furrows...a perfect match for an adult Irken. Mouth dry, quivering, her mind raced and unable to speak. Unable to share with her squadmates likely the same findings in those other "Chambers". Pulse quickening as adrenaline surged on pure fear alone, she tore away from the wall, stepping back as if it physically harmed her to shakily replace her glove.
About the time she did, the metal grating section she placed her weight on gave way, the supporting brackets long since rusted, falling from beneath her. A yelp of surprise escaped her lips at the short drop as she shelled up to protect herself, hoping she wasn't about to fall to her death in some creepy haunted facility on Devastis.
Thankfully, the drop was short, several scant feet at best, but the landing was rough. She did not land on a flat surface or a floor, but something hard, uneven. Strange as parts were smooth and round, others were poking and protruding. The odd noises of whatever she fell in...a dry clacking, dust disturbed filling the air. Disoriented, she rolled over this strange mass of material, eventually coming to a rest at the bottom of the incline.
Scrambling to get to her feet and right herself and regain her bearings, her eyes went wide and the color drained from her face at what she saw. Bones. A heaping pile of bones. Bleached bones of many skeletons unceremoniously thrown atop one another in a mass...dozens...hundreds...and they were Irken.
Just like her.
A million thoughts came to mind and all she could do was scream.
Kazak was the first to drop what he was doing in his chamber and sprinted over to Aero's looking for her. Looking down, and finding her, he stepped back away from the ledge in utter shock. His breathing quickened as he moved back against the wall. "GUYS! GUYS! GET IN HERE, NOW!"
Corr's voice broke through again, "Kazak...Volx...I don't know if you can still read me, but if you can...the Commander just told me that...one of the Vortians witnessed a mass grave in there."
The rest of the team immediately left their assigned room to clear, dashing across very similar metal grating over a darkened abyss where Aero had been...Chamber 4. Her strangled screaming finally quieted into shaking sobs as she fell back against the nearest wall, curling up. Their combined lights rapidly traversed down the hole made by her short fall, seeing what had terrified her so.
"Ooh...that's-"
"Get out of my way!" Vard shoved past Rha, hopping down into the pit.
"Vard!" Volx called after him. "...Captain, you seeing this? What...is this?"
Uncaring of his superiors, he landed atop the pile of countless Irken skeletons, the bones shifting, falling, and clacking beneath his weight as he made his way down the shifting side of the pile to Aero.
"Hey, hey, hey, Aero." He attempted, throwing his rifle behind his back to place his hands on her. Immediately she latched onto the only other living thing in that pit with her as she audibly sobbed behind her mask, shaking like a leaf. "Hey...look at me...look."
"Wh-wh-what...is th-this?! Th-those are-"
"I know...I'm here, you're fine. We're fine."
Once composed, Kazak secured a rope and threw it down into the pit, making his way down and giving Aero and Vard a way out. Corr came over again, "Sula says her readings are showing Aero's vitals spiked. Is everything okay?"
"No, Corr, everything is far from okay. We found that mass grave you were talking about...more like Aero fell into it." Even he was shaken up as he looked around...they really looked like they were resting just as they fell in long ago...and there was probably worse underneath. "Vard, get her out of here." He looked right at some bones, right at the spine...and saw no holes for a PAK. "Volx...these Irken...they had no PAK." He kept looking, seeing a uniform in tatters...and the Empire's insignia. "I think this one must've been a traitor." He took the patch and stashed it, moving aside parts of the jacket and finding no holes in the spine as well. "This is unreal…"
"Th-th-these p-people...the-"
"Aero," Vard gave her a gentle shake, her arms unraveling and wrapping around him uncomfortably tight. "Shhh….you're fine…" He looked over his shoulder. "I'm gonna need some help down here...she's a lot bigger than me."
Rha swallowed uneasily as he handed his rifle off to Rem. "I...I'll be down in a sec. Hold tight."
"Holding tight." He winced as she threatened to crush him, stroking her antenna back as she buried her face into his shoulder. Anything to not see what she saw. To make it go away.
Reluctantly, Rha hopped down atop the shifting pile of long-decomposed corpses of their people. Kazak's comments hung in his mind as he saw glimpses of what used to be someone's spine...no holes...no PAKs. Imperial uniforms in ruined tatters on some. Soldiers. Just. Like. Them.
He now fully felt the uneasiness Aero had been commenting about as he struggled to push it out of his mind, moving to assist his squadmates.
"I got her, Vard." He assured, gingerly taking hold of Aero's wrists to help her to her feet and support her weight. "Climb back up there and hold the rope so we don't fall down here."
"Th-they w-w-were alive…" Aero struggled, shaking. She may not have had any grievous physical wounds, but she was shaken to the core.
"Were, Aero...this is awful...but we can't do anything for them now. We gotta get up there and keep going, alright?"
"I c-can't."
Volx knelt down, looking into the hole to shine her light on them.
"First Sergeant! You can and you will! I know you can! You're the best the Empire has to offer!" She attempted to coax, remind her of her duty and where they needed to be. "You don't want to stay down there, do you?"
"N-no, Ma'am!"
"Then get your c'hurta moving and get up here!"
Steeled by the long-practiced and drilled discipline of following orders, she held onto that grim familiarity with all she had in her mind as she ascended the mountain of bones of their ancestors to reach the waiting rope.
Kazak looked at the tattered uniform in particular he was standing over...officer's insignia. A Lieutenant...he collected the rank and the name tape and pocketed them. Then he made his way back to the waiting rope. He let Aero go up first, the obvious priority, she needed to get out of there, shaken to the core as she was. Vard followed, then Rha, he was the last one out.
"Corr...those Vortians say anything else?"
"Lieu-" he stopped himself short, realizing what they all must've witnessed to some extent, "He said when they saw that...it only just confirmed their fears that Vortians would be subject to the same fate."
Kazak closed his eyes and shook his head. "At this point...I really can't say I blame them for coming to that conclusion." He needed to catch his breath before he stood up, their ship couldn't be too far now. "The sooner we're out of this...house of horrors...the better."
One-by-one, those that went into the pit of Chamber 4 to retrieve Aero and document the disturbing tomb of the Empire's past, the team convened in the hallway. Aero struggled to walk on her own power, being guided to take a seat against the wall where she curled into a ball, knees to her chin, arms wrapped around her legs, and rocking gently.
The terrible sight would leave her thoughts...the mistake she made in touching the wall...her mind putting it all together. She knew what happened in that room. The pain. The suffering. The cruelty...and it was done to their own people...and that same cruelty was being shared across the universe. This was wrong. All of it was wrong. Everything was wrong. Make it stop. Make it stop. Make it stop.
"What's wrong with her?" Rem queried in a hushed whisper to Rha, who shrugged.
"I don't know...I mean, yeah that's really messed up in there...but it didn't hurt her. She fell and landed on some bones. She's been hurt worse."
"Yeah, Saro almost stomped her guts out after she had the broken ribs...and that concussion…"
Volx caught on to what they were referring to. Her, a pillar of solitude and a "rock" in the squad, was shaken by this as well, but didn't show it so openly. She turned her attention to them.
"Stow it, both of you. Worry about yourselves."
"Yes, Ma'am." They obeyed with some reluctance before proceeding to fall in on Kazak.
He stepped out of the chamber, stepping to Volx, whispering, "You good? Be honest."
The female Lieutenant cast a glance back at Aero, her gaze drifting to Rha and Rem briefly before looking to Kazak in an equal volume.
"I don't need to be an archeologist or historian to know what happened in these rooms down here...ikvodo alta…" She sighed uneasily, swallowing. "...I'm pretty close to what she's feeling right now, but we have a mission to do."
His hand rested on her shoulder, nodding. Even if the fullness of it didn't sink into his own mind. The initial shock, everything he saw...it still bugged him...what bugged him more was that he wasn't as affected as the others. "Yeah...let's find their ship and get back." He led the way, going through what used to be a large processing area. Inside, he saw some cameras against a wall, some of them with red indicator lights and infrared lenses...clearly they were still active. "Those...those are still on...don't look like theirs, have Imperial insignia on them by the look of it."
Even with that weird realization, they pressed on through the empty room and out a set of doors. Inside was a high end Vortian Navy shuttle...right in the middle of what used to be a landing bay for shuttles, with a retractable roof. How they managed to find this place in particular...it's a perfect spot, some place nobody would look. What was within...was it really worth it? "All right...there it is...Vard, get to work. Rem...I'm sure you can fly something Vortian all the same. I just hope there's some place in the hangar we can set it down."
"If it's got wings and a stick, I'll get it airborne." She assured, informally, just ready to get out of this awful place.
"Yeah, yeah, 'bout that," Rha began stepping before them and turning around. "The last time we tangled with those two, they nearly killed Corr and almost blew us up a couple of times...monies to mudpies they've booby-trapped it."
"Which is why you're here, Corporal." Volx reminded him. "Before Vard gets anywhere near it to hack it open, check it for ordnance. Triggers, Wires, Pressure plates. Anything that looks out of place, document it."
"Sure thing...if I set it off, I probably won't feel a thing." He made macabre humor.
While Rha did his EOD-related work around the shuttle with an emphasis on safety and the others maintained some distance, Vard could not shake the notion of being watched. The cameras were not exactly hidden, but they were active. The most advanced thing in this structure by far and clearly installed after-the-fact. Active surveillance but no one on-site monitoring it. His curiosity got the better of him as he made use of empty crates and boxes, building a small staircase to reach the ceiling-mounted camera to tug at the wires of the back of it and tap in. Much like the other systems, it lacked wireless interfacing...that was peculiar. Almost every piece of Imperial technology could be interfaced with wirelessly in the current day and age...why hardwire the cameras? Most peculiar.
Rem walked over, looking up at her shorter squadmates.
"Vard, what are you doing up there?"
"Testing a theory." The short man commented as he spliced cables together.
"It's just a CCTV camera, right? Basic stuff for a place like this."
"That would be the case were it the same old tech...there's cameras of this exact same make and model installed on every Armada vessel...but those can be accessed remotely with the right programs...this one...cannot." he spoke with emphasis as he tapped in, finishing his splice before activating his dataslate.
"That's weird."
"Very," he commented as he began to scroll through the routing information coming back. "...what? Uhh...Lieutenants?"
Kazak looked over some other cameras he found, clearly older, blocky, more in line with what was typical of the facility. Those were mounted and powered down, much like everything else in here. His attention broke when Vard called out. "What is it?" He answered as he walked over, looking up at Vard and the camera.
"I spliced into the hardline of this camera, Sir," he explained, gesturing to it. "It's the only piece of electrical equipment in this entire facility still powered and clearly more modern...unless I'm getting a false reading...the routing parameters are pointing this footage going to Imperial Internal Affairs Headquarters here on Devastis...IIA has eyes on this place...and they haven't come to confront us...they likely saw the VDFs arrival...and did nothing."
"That's…" that weirded him out even more. What was going on? He looked away to think for a moment. Were they really being set up this whole time? This wasn't right at all. "Log it, we need to let Vult know. This situation just gets weirder every minute." He looked over to the entry area, "Rha, how are we looking?!"
"As quite possibly one of the best, if not the best EOD specialist in the whole Armada...I'm not seeing any triggers or traps. Doesn't mean it's safe and clear though...they could be crafty and have some other way of setting off the fireworks." He reasoned, looking to Vard. "Up to him to figure that one out, I did my part, Sir."
"Good work, Corporal." Volx nodded, her head leaning in Aero's direction. "Stick with her, help her back to the surface. RTB."
Rha snapped a quick salute. "Yes, Ma'am."
Kazak watched Vard step down and scan the ship, finding an IFF detector and a wireless detonator linked to explosives within, and to the shuttle's small reactor. A few quick moments, it was disabled. The door opened, no explosion. "Thank goodness, nice work, Vard. Now we just need to...open the ceiling." He walked on board and took a seat, huffing and pulling the dusty mask down from his face. "I need a shower."
One-by-one, they all filed aboard the stealth shuttle of Vortian design. Some parallels to be drawn between their own dropship, but this was leagues for advanced. Better stealth system, longer running, quieter, more efficient...it even had a decent set of plasma batteries for its size. Their shuttle was an invisible brick just meant to get them planetside and dust off. Nothing more. This could actually put up a protracted fight if need be. Thankfully none was required.
Taking a moment to adjust their transponder and not accidentally get targeted by Devastis' defensive network, Rem went through pre-flight procedures before taking off through the retractable roof of Processing Center Zero-Seven, destined for "home", the docked Ghost of Irk.
The flight home was uneventful, quiet. Vult waiting to greet them in the hangar. Rha did his part while they flew, disarming any explosive charges as Vard permanently disabled the IFF. One long range Vortian stealth shuttle, and it was theirs now. A fine addition to the arsenal. After the door opened and the engines powered down, they stepped off. Covered in dust, those not hooked up to the control brains rattled, though Volx masked it well. Kazak looked right at his commander. "I hope you're never going to ask us to go back in there...what we saw was...I don't think words can describe how awful it is."
"I would have elected to go myself had I known," Vult offered solemnly. "I know the Empire is not free of cruelty...but it is...troubling to see to which depths it transcends. The items you gathered from the facility, place them in the briefing room. The doors have been repaired, the remaining damage is mostly cosmetic on the interior."
Kazak nodded and led the others to the briefing room and started laying out everything: Storage devices, pictures, documents, the three PAKs, the rifle and pistol from the General's office, anything they found and recovered laid out neatly. Everything else was logged from their cameras. He pointed out one of the PAKs to Vult. "That one...we think it may potentially be occupied. We don't know for sure. We weren't willing to poke into any of these while we were there. One of them also tried to...interface with Vard's hand. They're definitely still active somehow, just in an idle state maybe?"
As Kazak spoke, Vult inspected the two variations of the older generation of PAK for himself, noting what he spoke of with the deployed spikes and the heft and size of the other one.
"Difficult to say for sure," the Commander commented. "Vard would be the one to know for certain…" He left hang, unsure of what to say. Uncertain. He hated uncertainty. Kazak was still hooked to the network. He had to watch what he said or did around him. The same went for Rha, Rem, and Tuu. The incident earlier in the day was not lost on him.
Finally, he turned his attention back to the Lieutenant. Change of subject. Fast.
"Aero returned with Rha via ground transport per Volx's orders. She is doing...better. I watched her helmet feed and witnessed her biometrics readings...true fear...terror...can't say that I blame her."
"Me neither...honestly...what bugs me is that I'm not as shaken as they are outside of initial shock...even Volx was affected by this…" He rubbed his face, spreading the dust further, then he looked Vult right in the eyes, "We need to talk, big time...about these damn PAKs...I don't know what's going on, but I don't like it. Not to mention, I trust you. I don't want to be left in the dark because of something I don't know about." His intuition was thinking that something was up and he wanted to know what.
"Doesn't have to be right this moment, but I'd rather it be soon. Shit's sake, you know we ran into an active camera from IIA in there? Vard found it hardwired, connected right to their HQ here on Devastis...and nothing. They don't barge in on us while we're in there. They don't tell us the Vorts were in there. Nothing. Something's up."
That...was troubling on many levels...moreso with Irk so fresh in his mind...the Administrator...Byte...the truth...and all of this...strangely fit into that. Why hadn't Internal Affairs stopped the Vortians? Why didn't they confront the team once they went into a clearly derelict and likely off-limits facility? Granted, their security-clearance and a firm explanation might have rectified it, but it should have still triggered some sort of response.
...or maybe someone was watching over them to ensure their safety...just as Byte had told them…
Vult's gaze tightened ever so slightly before lifting his head to address Kazak.
"...before we speak at depth of your concerns...I want to hear from your own mouth what you believe is happening and we will go from there. You were on Irk with me. You heard what I heard. Saw what I saw...and now this. The truth, Kazak...give it to me."
He took a breath, collecting his thoughts, "Based what I heard over the mics? You did something...rebelled...maybe made yourself like Hesa. You broke the bond, free. Whoever that was in there, he's connected to a network that goes very high up...one watching out for us...maybe hoping we'll fight back against the Empire, or unveil the real truth...or something." He stopped, mulling over what he said. "After what I saw in there? I'd do anything to disconnect myself from the Control Brains. Honestly, I even wonder if I can keep fighting for the Empire. I'll still fight for you. You have my word on that."
Vult leaned in closer at his conclusion, almost uncomfortably so with his voice in a barely-audible whisper near his antenna.
"Byte lives. He was never in that room. It was a construct. A completely synthetic, remotely controlled body."
Kazak's eyes went wide at the realization. This definitely went deeper than he thought. This was bordering on insanity...whatever it was, he wanted to get to the bottom of it, with no restrictions. He whispered back, softly, "You have the means, don't you? If you do...I want it done."
Vult leaned back, looking into the man's eyes to gauge the truth behind it. Was he playing him to catch him in the act and report his treason? Surely not. Not after what he saw at Processing Center Zero-Seven. Even if it was ancient history...it told a very disturbing tale of how things began. How they came to be...and they didn't even know the entire story yet.
"Report to Sula, immediately. Summon Vard to the Infirmary. Tell them I sent you. Tell them you want unplugged. Do not delay."
Kazak nodded, placing a hand on Vult's shoulder, forgetting for the moment it was still covered in dust and headed off to the medbay, snapping at Vard and signaling him to follow. Once there, he told them to unplug him. Without needing to grab their Vortian prisoner, Vard went to work. He's observed the procedure enough, performed it with Turb watching carefully. He had it down to a science now. A few minutes later, Kazak was freed from the brains. He heaved a sigh of relief and smiled at them. "Thanks you two."
Sula smiled back, but looked at the dust covered sniper, "Happy to help, now, please...go clean yourself off. You too, Vard. You two smell like death."