The First Contact War
Chapter 22
Between Midnight and Dawn
"People are more important than hardware, SOF cannot be mass produced. Competent SOF cannot be created after emergencies occur. Quality is better than quantity." U.S. Special Operation Forces.
2623 April 4th Earth Standard Calendar, CDR. Luke Sparrow.
"Commander this is Captain Pershing, Sergeant Carver and Private Griffon" General Cunningham explained, each one nodding at Luke as their name was mentioned.
"Gentlemen, you have been handpicked because you are the best at what you do. About a week ago, a bounty hunter known as Cad Bane assaulted a lone Star Destroyer, the O.A.S. Solace, with a company of Commando Droids and overran the Bridge. While control of the ship was regained it was not before the Co-ordinates to O.A.G. space
"Bravo team, the intel on this op comes from our informant in the CIS." Captain Pershing bleared through the radio to his team. "The package is aboard a medium freighter, Corellian registration number 52775. there is a small crew and a security detail on board, it is currently on a moon mad entirely of water in the Cyrillia System"
"Rules of engagement sir?" enquired Gaz
"Crew expendable." Pershing responded. With grim determination.
2623 April 13th Earth Standard Calendar, Cyrillia System, CDR. Luke Sparrow.
. . .The merciless wind & rain assaulted Luke's cheeks like a hail of tiny bullets. Below them, the sea raged like a stressy teenager. He sat in the open chopper opposite Captain Pershing, who was smoking a fat glowing cigar. He breathed out a heavy cloud of smoke that would have gone in Luke's face were it not for the onslaught of the weather conditions. Luke tried to avoid eye contact with him. It made him feel uncomfortable.
This better be interesting, or I'm gonna be pissed! thought Luke.
"Baseplate this is Hammer two-four; we have visual on the target. E.T.A, sixty seconds." announced the Pilot's heavy American accent over the radio. "Copy two four" replied the mission comlink at control. The team had been briefed the following night on the nature of their mission: they were infiltrating a cargo ship bound CIS space believed to have set off from Corellia two days prior.
"Thirty seconds. Coming dark" Luke looked out to the right of the chopper, and the vast, hulking expanse of a ship came into view. Luke could see its main deck caked with containers, some of them spilled over with their contents scattered around the place. He saw all manner of foreign writing on the containers, on one of them it was Galactic Basic.
"Ten seconds." The sea raged harder now, causing the chopper to bounce dramatically. Luke looked out at the ship when he suddenly saw something glowing flung out of the window, he looked around and saw Captain Pershing, having flung away his cigar, was getting up and putting on his gasmask. Luke followed suit.
For a brief moment, a dramatic darkness crept in.
Then the goggles came into his line of sight and the world came back.
"lock and load!" said a now gas masked Captain Pershing, slinging the rope down onto the deck of the ship. Luke prepared his gun. "Here goes" he muttered under his breath.
"Green light! GO GO GO!"
Captain Pershing led the way, private Griffin, another squad mate, followed the Captain, then Sergeant Carver, then lastly it was Luke's turn. Each man deployed himself onto the deck and took a window of the bridge. inside, five dark figures dropped what they were doing and began to stare at the four black-clad, gun-wielding figures
"Weapons free."
Luke took aim with his G63C carbine.
Within seconds, the five men inside were dead and they were moving on round to the door.
"Bridge secure." reported the captain. "Hold your fire. Gaz, stay in the bird until we secure the deck. over."
"Roger that." Gaz responded. The four men surrounded the door, guns at the ready, Captain Pershing kicked it open with an angry grunt. Griffin took point, followed by Luke, flanked by Pershing and Carver, they spread into the room checking for any survivors.
"Squad on me!" ordered Pershing, heading for the stairs on the right heading down. The two men followed the Captain, to the stairs, where they checked for hostiles.
"Stairs, Clear! Sparrow Take point!" the Captain barked, Luke headed down to a doorway on the left. As he turned into the corridor he heard a miserable moaning noise. he turned to the left again to see a drunken crewman stumble out of a door at the far end of the hallway on the right. The poor man was a miserable sight, he stumbled around wildly, muttering indecipherable phrases in what sounded Russiany when said out loud, and carried an obese bottle of some alcohol type drink probably.
No remorse.
Luke snatched out his M1911, to save ammo in the event of a firefight, and dispatched the man with three shots to the chest. He slumped lazily to the floor with little noise but a drunken grunt.
"Last call." Joked Griffin.
"Hallway, Clear!" shouted Pershing.
Still brandishing his pistol, Luke turned into the room from where the man had just come. Inside he saw a three-man bunk bed with two men dozing on the two bottom bunks. Luke took them out silently.
"Sweet dreams." remarked Griffin looking over Luke's shoulder, in a far more disturbingly evil and sinister tone than before.
The man clearly had a twisted, sick habit of making jokes about and at those killed at the hands of him and his squad mates. Luke was never keen on the idea of killing a person, but he was beginning to warm up to it.
"Crew quarters clear! Move up!"
"forward decks clear! Green light on Alpha! GO!" commanded the Pilot.
Luke moved down onto the cargo deck from the bridge down a flight of stairs, and was immediately soaked by a wave erupting onto the ship. Ignoring this aquatic assault, Luke moved on, the rest of the squad on his tail. Luke took in his surroundings; they were surrounded by crates, however there was space to move along the ship between them, his military instincts told him that the rest crew may be alerted to their presence, and this was the ideal place for a setup. Luke replaced his pistol's vanguard position with his G63C.
"Ready sir" said Gaz who had joined them along with the rest of the squad.
"Fan out. Three meter spread!" directed price.
The men stealthily sifted through the mess of crates, alert and ready. The attack of the weather and violent rocking of the ship doing nothing to deter them. They came under a large observation platform and proceeded through the crates, they soon came in view of another platform, this one with two men minimalistic and lazily patrolling along the top. Luke judged by their lack of alertness that they still were unaware of the men's presence.
"Got two on the platform." whispered gaz.
"I see 'em, weapons free!" answered Pershing.
"Roger that."
They all decided at once that it would be impossible to pick them off at this range without advertising themselves; they moved into a clearing of the crates for a better shot. Now it was the others' turn; Luke had time for one shot before the guards were down, which he missed, and they continued moving along the cargo deck.
"Target down."
The others moved along in dead silence, Luke followed Pershing into an empty container, though still adhering to the three meter spread. The ensuing darkness caused their black kits to blend in, meaning Luke lost sight of the captain for a moment. However, within a second he could see him ducking behind a crate in front of the container. Luke was about to join him when Suddenly something slammed into his chest and forced him down onto his back. He was too confused at first to tell what was happening, but having been knocked down by the impact, Luke realised he had been shot. It was disorientating and vision blurring before the pain came, but when it did, he felt like he had been punched by God.
Clutching his chest tightly, he aggressively grunted in pain, but the Beskar armour had done its job.
"Fuck yeah body armour"
"Get your act together!" Snapped the Captain, grabbing him by the collar of his vest and hauling him behind the crate with him.
"And get used to it!"
"We got company!" said one of the team.
"no shit!" Luke wanted to say.
Breathing heavily Luke checked himself to find three scorch marks on his armour, they hadn't penetrated his sternum. He was fine. He had been shot a few times in his years of service, and Luke remembered that these hadn't been from a mounted light machine gun, thus hurting a mother load of a lot less than this, and being far less dangerous. Thus he had gone nearly unscathed in most instances, and by an extraordinary stroke of luck, now also.
Gritting his teeth harder that he thought he could do, Luke took in the situation: the rest of the squad was taking cover behind the crates, also taking heavy fire, the rattling of machine gun and the shouts of men echoed around him, indicating that they had been compromised, not that the fact he had just been shot wasn't enough already. They had neared the end of the cargo deck, and were now just below the forecastle. Luke quickly peeked out and saw the deck above them swarming with hostiles, as well as two mounted light machine guns the closer of which, Luke presumed, had shot him.
Captain Pershing clicked on his radio and spoke, "Hammer two-four, we got Tangos on the second deck!"
"Copy. engaging!"
Luke looked up to see the Warbird hover in front of the second deck. It suddenly released forth a broadside of gunfire into the long corridor killing everyone inside. Luke had always loved it when there was air support to do the job for you.
They emerged from their cover and proceeded up onto a small platform that served as the base of the forecastle.
"Bravo team, Hammer is at bingo fuel" reported hammer "we're buggin' out. Big Bird will be on station for evac in ten."
"Copy Hammer." said Pershing "Walcroft, Griffin, cover our six. The rest of you, on me."
"Roger that."
They cautiously approached the structure around to their left, following the captain, were a watertight door awaited them. Luke stacked up to the wall on the door's left, the Captain stood opposite him, brandishing his G63C in the door's face. Gaz and Sgt Carver both stood in front of the door, Guns facing inward. The others stood behind keeping watch.
"I like to keep this for close encounters" Said Gaz suddenly, Luke looked and saw him replacing his G63C with an impressive M90 shotgun.
"Too right mate." replied Carver.
Pershing approached the door, and twisted the crank slowly.
"On my mark... GO!"
He ripped open the door.
Immediately, Gaz and Carver were inside. They stacked up on the wall in front of them peering down the corridor for hostiles. Luke followed suit and Pershing was first into the corridor. It was Empty.
"Hallway, Clear! Move up!"
They quietly fell into the corridor, one by one. Remaining alert in case there was an ambush. The sounds of the sea resonated around them. Up ahead there was an opening to another corridor. At the end of the corridor they were in, there were more doors that lead outside to the opposite side of the ship. They moved to the hallway on the left repeated the previous procedure of stack up, check for tangos, and get ready to move in, all this was simple Special Forces procedure.
"Clear left."
"Clear right."
They fell in. Pershing took point. Luke took in their surroundings, at the end of the corridor was another door to the outside and to the right was a raised platform with some access doors for engineers. the Only option was a stairway going down to the left. Perfect, they had to get as deep into the ship as possible before running into an enemy contact. The captain brought his gun to bear at the top of the stairs, aiming down.
"Stairs, Clear!"
The men fell in and followed him down into the ship, they came into a long room, they were surrounded by pipes wired across the ceiling and walls like weeds, with a huge fat one running through the centre of the room lengthways. A walkway went along the length of the room before turning a sharp right and then back around in the direction they had come from, only going into a corridor leading deeper into the ship. They calmly and quietly followed Pershing along the walkway, when suddenly they heard angry voices to the right from the corridor and they saw shadows being cast of guards taking up positions, ready for the oncoming threat.
"Movement right."
Luke ducked low and worked his way to the end of the pipe where he took cover. He had time for one quick peek around the corner to his right; he registered three guards with blasters stacking up in the corridor, just down a small flight of stairs. He had to think fast. The guards opened fire on his position. He pulled out his sidearm with his left hand and quickly reaching around the corner he blind-fired a few Double-Taps down the corridor. A muffled scream and the sound of something heavy hitting the floor confirmed his attempt. But then, more unexpectedly, he heard a thick rushing hiss, followed by more cries of pain and a cease in the gunfire, which could only mean he had hit one of the steam pipes.
Luke and the others hopped out from cover and surveyed the situation; one man was dead, another was sprawling around on the floor trying to avoid the rush of white hot steam that had taken them by surprise while at the same time groping around for his dropped gun, his comrade was stumbling onto his feet and preparing to leg it down the corridor. Their skills and training allowed them to assess the situation in under a second; they decided that the man reaching for the gun was more of a potential threat and they took him out first. The runner was soon to follow, a few shots dispatched his leg, and as he tried to crawl away, a few more dispatched his life. Luke reloaded his gun.
"Tango down."
"Hallway, Clear!"
They proceeded down the corridor, careful to avoid the steam, where they quickly checked the bodies in case of a trap. No pulses.
At the end of the corridor there was another, going left and right like a T-junction. Luke knelt down and peered out to the right. Ironically, he was met face to face with a dead-end wall a few meters away.
"Clear right." He declared. A hint of irony in his voice
"Clear left." replied Sgt. Carver.
"Move up. Carver, take point" ordered price.
They followed Carver to the left, guns at the ready, and unsure what to expect next. the hallway was lined with pipes like the last, and clear the end a red light left an ominous glow that looked uninviting. Next to it was a watertight door. This one was open, and was presumably were the guards had come from. They swiftly confronted the door and stacked up, Carver in front on the wall next to the door, Gaz was behind him, with Luke next to Gaz. Captain Pershing stood ready, directly in front of the door.
"Standby, on my go!" he warned.
As he said this Carver Reached his Head around the corner. however, within a second of looking, he was put back in his place by a flurry of gunfire that assaulted the doorway. He decided to repay this attempt by the guards to turn his head into Swiss Cheese. He unhooked a Flash from the clips on his Blacksuit.
"Flashbang out!" he Declared dramatically, while back-handily popping the device into the room beyond. Within a second, a flash that would have been blinding -were it not for their position outside the room, flash-proof lenses on their gasmasks, and constant exposure to flashbangs due to their counter-terrorist training that made them practically immune to the effects- sprang forth in the room, accompanied by the traditional loud bang, that would lead people to question the reliability of flashbangs were it not present.
"GO!"
They fell in. The room was a large freight hall, and the door had lead onto a catwalk at the top of the left-side wall. As well as crates, Guards littered the floor, lowering their guns and clutching their eyes as they attempted to find their way around having been 'flashbanged'. They descended down the stairs to the cargo deck, taking out the guards along the way.
"Tango down."
They didn't let their guard down. Luke aimed his G63C in front of him until they reached the other side of the hall. He scanned the environment: squad back, wall front, crates right, crates left. He noticed a gap between the wall and the crates on the left and headed for it. Suddenly as he emerged, a figure charged towards him, yelling his head off, his gun held high ready to deliver the killing blow. Luke reacted immediately; with both hands he grabbed the gun, and then drove his knee upward deep into the man's groin. The guard gave an aggressive but awkward squeal and dropped the gun from his loose hands. Taking him by the neck with one hand, by his jacket with the other, he drove him back into the crate behind him with fantastic force. he slumped to the ground like a ragdoll.
"Nice work there Sparrow." remarked Gaz.
Luke had taken several courses in unarmed combat, self-defence, and martial arts throughout his time as a soldier: he was a fifth degree black belt at Judo, and a qualified instructor of military self-defence. It had saved his life more times than he could count.
"Gaz, right side!" ordered Pershing.
"I'm on it."
he ran across to the other side of the hall, a few meters away from him there was a watertight door. Gaz looked around slowly.
"No tangos in sight."
the others came across to join him.
"Stack up"
They fell in towards the door, pressing themselves hard against the wall, ready and waiting.
Captain Pershing twisted the crank on the door "GO!"
Gaz and Carver went straight in. Followed by Luke. They stood on a small catwalk just above the floor of the container hall, in front, a container completely blocked their view of the hall, on the right, more container. To the left a stairway led up onto the catwalk along the top of the hall.
"Move!"
Luke followed the others up the stairway, looking up he saw Gaz suddenly jerk his head in the direction of the catwalk opposite.
"Movement right!"
Luke spun around while still backing up the stairs. Across the hall on the other side, he saw guards spilling onto the catwalk, pointing at them and gibbering random commands in some language to one another. They opened fire, and amid the resounding sound of lasers clanging on metal, Bravo team returned it.
They gently strafed one by one across the platform, double tapping their fire toward the enemy. Luke followed suit, dispatching two of the guards, one was taken aback by the force of the plasma into his chest, and collapsed back off the catwalk. The other had his leg taken out and he threw himself on the floor crying out in agony, unlike blaster bolts, plasma actually melted the area it hits due to its nature. Luke then had the favour returned; he grunted and recoiled suddenly as a collection of bullets out of nowhere caught him on the shoulder. Nonetheless he pushed on, his body armour vest suffered the damage rather than him, and the pain was minimal compared to the LMG earlier. Besides when you qualify as one of the toughest people on the planet, pain is one of the last things on your mind, except in the case of a gun like an LMG of course.
They pressed through the haze of gunfire until the guards were taken care of. They moved down off the catwalk, Captain Pershing dispatched one last guard lurking behind a crate.
"Forward area clear."
"Move!"
Having recovered from being shot twice now, Luke remembered an old saying by Churchill: "There is little more exhilarating in life than to be shot without result". Luke knew little about Churchill, but he assumed he had never experienced the various anti-climaxes and ironies of being a soldier.
"Clear left."
"Stack up!"
The next door awaited them, this one open. Inside, Luke could see the guards preparing for the oncoming assault. They stacked up.
"One ready."
"Two ready."
"Three ready."
"Flashbang!"
Pershing popped the small object through the door. A moment later, light and sound erupted from inside, coupled with the sound of random gunfire.
"GO!"
This time, there was teamwork. They fell in, and knelt behind the first row of crates. Carver, being the one at the front, lent round the corner and delivered a burst of fire.
"Targets neutralised."
"Move up!"
Luke moved in behind a container to the right, Gaz and price ducked behind the next row of crates. The room erupted in gunfire. Luke looked across to the other side of the hall, a guard had appeared and had his blaster trained on Gaz's head. He aimed back, and shot him just at the base of his left ribcage. He dropped his gun and stumbled backwards, clutching his torso. He collapsed to the ground, dead. He peered around the corner, there was a guard kneeling between the crates, fumbling around for another magazine to reload his gun. Another was cowering by the crates. Luke spun around bringing his G63C to bear, and catching the first guard by surprise, he flew onto his back, and his gun slid across the metal floor. The other guard tried to make a run for the next row of crates. No chance; Luke saw his eyes roll back into their sockets as the bullet entered his head. Luke quickly joined the others behind the crates.
"Report?" said Pershing.
"I make it three or four tangos at six O'clock " said Gaz, reloading his shotgun. He and Luke knelt up over the crates and returned fire. Luke luckily managed to align his sights at the right time, and topped one of the guards through the head. They got back down behind the crates. The next time wasn't so lucky; he managed to fire a few random shots in their direction. The next time was even worse; he barely managed to aim his gun before the guards almost took his head off. He Squatted hopelessly behind the crates for a moment. The others continuously returning fire, with no result.
"Fuck it!" he thought. He unhooked a frag grenade from his clips.
"Frag out!" he called. unhooking the pin, he popped the object round the side of the crates.
For a moment, the firing seemed quieter. Then suddenly, he heard a guard yell something that resembled "grenade". Then it went off. Frag and flame flew out in all directions, accompanied by screams, then it settled. and the firing ceased.
They got up and surveyed the area.
"Report- All clear?" said Cpt. Pershing.
"Roger that."
They crept across to the other side of the hall, through the crates. Luke was so preoccupied with taking out the guards he had forgot all about their objective of finding the data. He realised how long it had taken, but they were deep inside the vessel by now, they couldn't be far. But that thought brought up another: how did Pershing know how to find the data?
The simple clicking of a Auspex Device answered that Question.
"I'm getting a strong reading sir." said Gaz.
For roughly half a minute, they played a game of "Warm & Cold" with Gaz's Auspex Device, until finally it led them to a container at the end of the hall.
"Ah, that's it," said Gaz "you might wanna take a look at this."
he yanked open the container.
"Bloody hell!" said Carver
Instead of a data disc or computer there was a large metal object, about the length of a small car rested inside. There was a bomb alright. Luke guessed this had the potential to take out a small city.
"We've been set up"
"We need to get out of here!"
Baseplate decided that at that moment to radio in, "two bogies headed your way fast. grab what you can and get the hell outta there!"
"Fast movers" said Gaz " probably Vultures, we better go!"
"Sparrow" snapped Pershing, "Grab the manifest in the container. Move!"
Luke slipped inside the container. Several objects were rested on top of the bomb: two bottles of what was probably some form of coolant liquid sat next to a pile of black ring binders, on top of them was a clipboard in a watertight container with various documents attached. Soap knew they could only take so much. He retrieved the clipboard and left the rest inside.
He handed the dossier to Pershing who clipped it onto his belt at the back.
"Alright everyone topside double time!" he ordered urgently.
They briskly retraced their steps through the crates and into the previous hall. As they came through, Pershing spoke into his radio.
"Walcroft, Griffin, what's your status? over."
"Already in the Warbird sir." replied Walcroft " Enemy aircraft inboun- SHIT! THEY'VE OPENED FIRE"
Suddenly, all hell broke loose.
Light filled the hall as a huge explosion erupted ahead of them out of the side of the ship. The shockwave threw them backwards onto the cold metal floor, winding Luke. Ahead of him he heard the radio gargle and drown away. The shockwave had disorientated him and he lost his sense of direction. Gaz sprawled about the floor next to him, Pershing and Carver in front. He fumbled around and tried to regain his balance. Looking up to the ceiling, he heard Big bird's pilot talk in panic into the radio.
"Bravo six! Come in! Bravo six, what's your Status?"
Ahead of Luke, Carver crawled up on all fours.
"SHIT! WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED?" He yelled.
Still on the floor trying to re-co-ordinate himself Luke saw Pershing prop himself up.
"The ship's sinking! We've Got to Go! NOW!" Barked Gaz.
Luke suddenly realised, He was lying in a foot of water. He groped around for his G63C, but couldn't find it.
"Bravo Six! come in Damnit!"
"Big Bird This is Bravo Six- We're on our way out!" Replied Pershing, scrambling to his feet.
Luke lay in a propped up position and gestured for Pershing to give him a hand up, he was still dizzy from the shock.
Instead, the captain grabbed his flak jacket, and with an aggressive tug hauled him onto his feet as if he were a ragdoll.
"On your feet Soldier! We are leaving!" He barked explicitly into Luke's face.
For a moment, Luke just stood there stunned. But within a second he had snapped back into it and was following the others back the way they came.
The scene was chaos. The ship was slanted at an angle, Crates and containers had been disrupted and littered the hall, and a torrent of water Gushed out of the breech in the ship's hull like blood from a severed artery.
"Get to that catwalk! Move, Move, Move!"
Luke sprinted up the stairs, Fuelled by raging adrenaline. He followed the others up onto the catwalk. all around them was the sound of rushing Water and the ominous creaks and moans of the ship as it collapsed and sank.
"Come on! let's Go, Lets' Go" shouted Gaz.
The squad sprinted along about three meters ahead of Luke. Just In front of Pershing's head, a metal panel in the side of the ship broke away and a flush of water came rushing through the hole. The force knocked them down.
"BACK ON YOUR FEET! LET'S GO!"
Luke scrambled after them, tugging himself through the water that fell through. They almost reached the end of the hall. Suddenly, three huge metal panels fell through ahead of them, crashing down onto the catwalk.
"WATCH YER' HEAD!" cried out Gaz.
The destruction got worse. They had barely made it into the second hallway when more panels broke away and a much bigger torrent of water gushed in, the force knocking them all to their knees. Luke pressed on, dodging underneath the water. He sprinted on to catch up with the squad, when suddenly he felt the catwalk shudder violently beneath his feet.
"IT'S BREAKING AWAY!" yelped Carver.
The walkway buckled, and peeled away from the end segment where the others just about escaped through the doorway. As it broke off down into the flooded freight hall below, Luke Sprinted for his life and jumped off the edge of the catwalk. He just managed to grab hold of the railings of the still intact end of the walkway and haul himself up onto it.
He Stumbled back into the corridor. Ahead of him to the left, he saw the others turn right into the steam corridor where they had previously fought the guards. Water and steam spewed out around them as the pipes collapsed and emptied their contents.
"Watch the Pipes !" warned Pershing.
Luke sprinted after them down the twists and turns of the corridors, running at every which angle as the ship tilted over. Water crashed and erupted from every nook and cranny all around them.
"Talk to me bravo six!" requested the pilot "where the hell are you?"
"Standby! we're almost there!"
He followed them up the stairs, they were almost there, up ahead he saw Gaz stop abruptly.
"WHICH WAY?!" he yelled out "Which way to the helicopter?!"
"Right!" answered Pershing "To the right!"
Luke heaved through a waterfall from the ceiling, following them to the right.
Come on! he thought not much further now!
They raced down the corridor. Ahead of them, Luke could clearly see the door they had come through to the outside of the ship. He stumbled outside after the others, and turned right. To the left, the sea raged on. To the right, the vast hulk of the ship loomed over him.
Ahead to the left was the deck of the ship. He was nearly there.
With no time to loose, he ran up across the slanted deck, slipping a few times. The ship was at a 30-degree angle now. He trudged up the flat deck as hard as he could.
"keep moving!"
"WERE THE HELL IS THE CHOPPER?" cried out Carver.
Suddenly, the Warbird appeared out of nowhere. The hatch was open towards the ship.
A matter of meters in front, Luke could clearly see his objective. The others clambered aboard the Warbird. But he was running out of time, the Warbird was already heading away. He reached the end of the ship, and clambered onto the edge but the Warbird was too far from the edge for him to get on.
Suddenly he knew what to do.
With all the Strength his body could summon, he propelled himself off the edge of the ship.
"JUMP FOR IT!" yelled out a voice one of the team.
For a moment, With Luke suspended in space, time seemed to stop.
Then suddenly, it was all over.
Luke hung off the edge of the ramp, paralysed, unable to do anything.
Suddenly he felt himself slipping off the Warbird back towards the inky black abyss.
In desperation, he frantically clawed at the floor of the cabin. He felt himself slowly falling away, when all of a sudden, he felt a firm hand grabbing him by the collar.
"Gotcha!" grunted Captain Pershing as Luke stared into his face in shock.
Pershing hoisted him up into the chopper, and threw him onto his back. Luke looked up, below them, the vast hulk of the ship declined away into the void of the sea. He couldn't believe it, He was alive.
"we're all aboard! Go!" ordered Pershing.
"Roger that, we're outta here." Responded the Pilot.
Luke was petrified. He hoped this night would have seen the worst of his career, in vain. . .
2623 April 17th Earth Standard Calendar, Cyrillia System, CDR. Luke Sparrow.
The briefing room was dark when he entered and closed the doors gently behind. The Forward Operating Base, or FOB, was just waking up around him. His instinct was to be as quiet as possible anyway. It was good practice for his line of work. Despite his attempt at stealth, the others in the room looked in his direction. The only individuals present not of Bravo Six were an Intel Officer and a young bearded man in a flight suit who was chatting with Gaz, Bravo Six's sniper. Something clicked in my head as he realized that the bearded man he was seeing would be the pilot who would be transporting them into "Hell" in this particular mission.
"Good, we're all here then," the Intel Officer said as she raised an eyebrow at him. Her nametag read "Mercil." Luke chose to ignore the condescending look and took a seat in one of the rows of chairs. The projector overhead illuminated and cast its light onto the screen.
"Now then," Mercil continued, "I'm sure you all recognize this man as Cad Bane. In March, he stole highly classified government information. He'd been mining his way through our firewall for three weeks prior. By all accounts, he is still in possession of the intel—"
"We know all of what he's done and what he's taken," Gaz interjected, "We've been chasing him for nearly a month now."
"Let the lady speak." This came from Captain Pershing. He didn't normally tell people off, but when he did, it was undoubtedly something serious.
Mercil began again with a colder tone, "As I was saying, Bane was spotted by one of our drones yesterday. The importance of your success in this mission is critical. From what intel we have gathered from the Republics Long Range Reconnaissance Planetary Patrol force codename Gauntlet, he has a tech wiz called Blackridge working decryption." She paused. Luke wondered who the LRRPPs were… Were they some sort of special Force Recon or just Special Forces.
"Why?" asked Griffon, customarily blunt.
"Bane's plan is to sell the intel to the CIS. There's no telling what kind of hell-raising will happen if the CIS gets their hands on it. In which case, Lieutenant Allistaire here," she motioned to the young bearded man, "will fly Bravo Six over a coastal Cyrillian town where Bane is holed up. He has countless connections and more money than any of you could spend in a lifetime, so you'll have to deal with hired guns and militiamen as you infiltrate.
Objective one is to upload a virus to the computer itself that should wipe all government and personal data. Last resort: if it isn't possible, just destroy the computer. Secondary objective is to capture or kill Bane or Blackridge. He can either rot in prison or rot in the jungle. It's your call. Blackridge is too dangerous to let walk the streets. Are there any final questions?" Several hands shot up.
"What do you have on militia background? Arms?" said Griffon.
Mercil replied with, "They are a local pirate gang called Black Sun. They primarily run with standard pistols, CIS blasters and RPGs. They also arm whatever vehicles they possess with outward facing MGs. You probably don't have to worry about civilians being present because the town where they're holed up was taken when Blackridge set up shop there. The villagers were either run off or killed."
There was a heavy silence around me as the team tried to digest her words. Luke frowned. Depending on how many Black Sun were guarding the town, things could get ugly very, very fast. Luke also hoped that the mission would be short enough he wouldn't have to scavenge a new weapon; his M416 was like his only child.
"How's our air support?" This came from Carver, who was standing in the shady back corner of the room. Luke almost jumped. Carver had a habit of going unnoticed until he appeared at your shoulder. For someone as observant as Luke, it was quite unnerving. Was he losing his touch? No, he wasn't the only one with a startled look. Carver noticed their reactions and smirked as he shook his longer-than-regulation hair out of his eyes.
"Lt. Allistaire's Paladin will remain on station after Bravo Six parachutes out." the intel officer replied crisply, "He'll be available for tasking a fair amount, but he'll need to refuel and rearm as well. He'll be unavailable for several hours between firing runs."
"Right," Carver nodded.
"How are we being extracted?" Luke asked.
"Once Bravo Six has apprehended or killed the hacker and his stolen information, we will send a Warbird to pick you up at a designated LZ." It seemed like a straightforward mission to him, but as he heard time and time again, no battle plan survives contact with the enemy. Pershing the squad leader stood up, looked each of them in the eyes and said, "We have a national threat on hand. Let's go hunting, boys."
2623 April 18th Earth Standard Calendar, Cyrillia System, CDR. Luke Sparrow.
Luke awoke to the sound of opening bay doors. Strange enough to others that Luke could sleep through a rough ride. His Oakley sunglasses felt hot, but nonetheless, they had a mission to execute. They lined up and prepared to exit the plane. Luke created a new kind of secondary gun clip that was supposed to keep the gun tight to his side without shaking, but easy release upon a quick draw. He was keen to see how it would hold up under freefall.
The doors completed opening and Pershing was rushing them out to drop. The next thing Luke knew; he was dropping like a stone. Luke sprawled out so the wind rushing past his face lets up enough to the point that he can see the drop zone. It was a Cyrillia coast. Keeping unseen would be downright impossible.
They descended as planned, but then Luke thought he caught something white out of the corner of his eye. Hishunch was right. A white Black Sun MG truck emerged from the trees on the hill. There were blaster bolts flying past them. Luke tried calling through the radio,
"Low rip! Do not pull until we're out of the line of fire!" Then Luke heard Carver reply,
"God dammit! My chute won't fucking go!"
"Use your backup!" Pershing commanded. Luke's radio gave out after that. Then he noticed the MG truck stopped firing. Luke could guarantee that they would be going towards the coastline. The thought clouded his mind, and what he didn't see was Carver tuck his limbs in and accelerate into the tree line. Luke was spaced out until he heard a blood curdling scream, followed by a series of snaps. He couldn't tell whether those were tree limbs or carver's bones.
Luke had always loved parachuting. The nerve hammer drop of freefalling is so intense followed by the reassuring jerk of a chute that puts the hammer in the drawer. But this time, things went wrong as soon as they left Allistaire's Paladin
"First things first, head towards the beach and find Carver."
"Roger," Gaz murmured. They made their way into the jungle, hardly making a whisper. Through the eerie green glow of their night vision on their visors, he spotted a linear clear cut.
"Got a road over here," Griffon whispered.
"Do not cross," Pershing commanded, remembering the MG truck. They were as the still as the darkness that surrounded them, waiting in the brush for something to happen. He could only pick out everyone else because he watched them stop.
"Walcoft, you have the C17 right?" Pershing asked Walcoft.
"Affirmative," He replied.
"Plant it in the road and wait. Bury it, but don't make it look obvious. We'll come back once we're finished with Carver. If that truck comes back, Blow the charge."
"Got it," said the bear-like man.
The rest of them crossed the road one by one while Walcoft slowly planted the C17 charge and moved back into the trees. Another 100-150 yards into the jungle, it ended and they stepped onto the pale white beach. The colour retained even in the cloudy night. Luke figured that it was one of the beautiful white beaches that everyone dreamed of going to. However, he had no time to admire it. But, there was something of much more importance on the beach. After only a few minutes of searching, he heard Gaz's voice cut in over the sound of the ocean waves.
"Found him!"
There was no questioning as to who it was. Bravo Six converged on Gaz and gazed pitifully at the splayed body in its small crater. Without speaking, they immediately began to strip Carver of his gear and dragged him up to the foliage of the jungle. There, he was hidden by the ferns and fronds from any prying eyes of the Black Sun. Luke pulled the tags from Carver's neck and tucked them away with a huff.
"Let's move Bravo. We still have a mission too complete." Just as they entered the treeline, a large explosion announced the arrival, and death, of the vehicle, along with those inside. They were close enough to Seatown that they would undoubtedly be noticed. Luke was counting on the pirates' lack of discipline to cover it up. He was also willing to bet that the Black Sun got bored doing their job of guarding Blackridge and decided to shoot up the jungle instead. If not, Griffon and Pershing would be happy to greet anyone curious enough to venture out at night with a KA-BAR to the neck. They met up with Walcoft and followed the road North, away from the smoking remains of the truck and towards our objective.
What a beautiful place for such hideous things to happen, Luke thought as they drew close to Seatown. That wasn't the place's real name, but it was a hell of a lot more pronounceable than its native one.
"Hold up." Pershing ordered. There were some flickering lights further up the road.
"It looks like a guard house," Gaz crisply remarked.
"Guess they don't like people driving in unannounced." Luke said as, annoyed that Gaz pointed out something so obvious to the rest of them. He was trying to control himself. At this point in their mission, he was as taut as a compound bowstring. It was the calm before the storm.
"Sparrow, Griffon, move up to the doors," Pershing whispered in a gruff tone, "Everyone have their silencers equipped?" Everyone replied with a confirmation. Griffon took the booth to the right while Luke took the left. Luke cautiously moved in on the door. The checkpoint didn't look like much, but it was big enough to hold several people.
"Go ahead." Luke heard from Pershing.
Luke rapped on the door several times and slung his rifle, pulling out his silenced M1911 and KA-BAR. A sleepy grumble preceded the door opening. Luke didn't wait, and as soon as it cracked open, he was through it. The disoriented man in front of him stumbled backwards. A shot from Luke's pistol made a peculiar wet sound as it punctured his throat but at that point neither of them really cared. Luke turned and viewed the scene as if it were a work of modern art. The brightest spots he saw next were two enemies; one lazily seated at a table, the other laying on a cot. Luke nailed the first at the table three times, centre mass. He slumped forward onto the table, his blood mixing with the chips of their unfinished poker game. Oh well. It was never going to be finished now. Luke silently strode over to the man on the cot. Holstering his sidearm, Luke tapped his shoulder to see him turn over and stare at Luke as if Death had come to claim his soul. In one motion, Luke covered his mouth and plunged his KA-BAR into the Rodian's neck. He squirmed a bit before his eyes glassed over. It's funny how we cling to life so dearly and how quickly it deserts us anyway. Luke removed the satisfied knife from the man's throat and wiped the blood on the sheets.
"For Carver." He said. The words hung in the air when he left. Once Luke exited the building, he heard a muffled scream from the other guardhouse. Had it happened at the beginning of the week when he first met his temporary teammates, he would have been concerned for Griffon. Now though, he knew better. Sure enough, the door opened and a body came tumbling out. The lifeless corpse appeared to have Griffon's knife forced through the bottom of its skull through its jaw.
Another man stumbled out the door and fell to his knees, closely followed by Griffon himself. The pirate on his knees seemed to be pleading for his life. Griffons G63A3 came up and spat plasma, cutting the poor guy off and rendering his face FUBAR.
Damn, Luke thought, He's one cold bastard. Glancing back at his own work and cleared his throat, deciding not to judge him. After a spectacle like that, he could tell he wasn't one to leave survivors where unnecessary.
"Clear." Griffon reported in an almost ghostly tone. Luke did the same.
"Roger. Let's move. The entrance we're using to get into Seatown should be just ahead." Pershing leading the way.
Whitish walls loomed in the murky night. They had reached Seatown and there was no sentry in sight. Good for them, very bad for Blackridge. The gate was a shabby affair. A simple push offered no challenge whatsoever. There was still no sign of any guards, which was very suspicious. Suddenly Pershing pushed some of us behind cover.
"Eyes up!" he hissed.
"Shit! He's got cameras!" Luke cursed. Luckily, we had just the thing to fool them. Luke produced a unique piece of gear; a Black Hat. This device would freeze any live camera feed within a 20 yard radius, unfortunately R&D just cleared it for field testing. Theoretically, unless Blackridge himself was watching, no one would be any the wiser as they crept through the rank streets.
"Gaz, pick a spot and get on overwatch. Sparrow, clear that building to the left and head for the target building. Take Walcoft with you. The rest of us will meet you there. There's a lot of open ground between us and where Blackridge's computer should be, so we'll find another way."
Luke signalled to Walcoft and dashed left, stopping at the doorway of the building Pershing told us to clear. Glancing down, he saw that Walcoft had his G63C ready. Luke grinned. They wouldn't know what hit them. Luke slashed his hand, signalling Walcoft into the house. The large man stepped inside and fired almost immediately. Luke followed and saw two bodies splayed out and walcoft was grappling with a third man for a machete like blade. Luke sidestepped to get an angle and shot the pirate in the kneecaps. His scream was cut off quickly as a result of Walcoft putting a dozen rounds into his chest.
Walcoft turned to him, pale faced and sweaty. "That was sketch, man." Luke nodded in agreement and pointed upward. There was a staircase they had passed entering the building. They backtracked and ascended the stairs with Luke leading this time. A solid door blocked their path. Luke turned to Walcost and told him the new plan.
2623 April 18th Earth Standard Calendar, Cyrillia System, Private Gaz.
From his position on a nearby rooftop. He saw the rest of Bravo Six, minus him, meet in the building they'd secured and talk about options. When they moved out, he had to keep in contact to warn them about hostiles he saw near them.
This wasn't an easy thing to do since he had to move along with them. Gaz was sweating from the stress, which is rare for a sniper. Usually they're a cool and calculated bunch, but imagine the situation he was in: his spotter, Carver, had fallen to his death, leaving no one to watch his back. The best overwatch position was the target building, so he could bet there would be semi-attentive sentries stationed in it watching for rats like him scurrying from rooftop to rooftop. It wasn't easy; it was a miracle all the roofs he jumped to were strong enough to support him and the Exosuit. He was in the most dangerous position of all the team. he figured any second someone would see him and shoot himn. Luckily, most people were asleep at this time, and Gaz wasn't spotted.
The team had to apply the surveillance jammer several more times whenever they'd peek around a corner and spot mounted cameras with their beady black eyes. There were no other Enemies Killed in Action (EKIA) between them and the hotel where Blackridge was staying, although they had plenty of opportunities to get them.
Some of the crumbling houses the team passed had slumbering forms of pirates inside, their cheap weapons propped beside them. Once, they had to stop and let an unwary patrol go by. Their numbers were just too large to kill them without attracting attention.
When his watch was just reading midnight, the team came to the target building. Blackridge had given himself the best accommodations in the town, which wasn't saying much. The "hotel" was thrice as big as the biggest shack near it and had three floors painted the same faded pink, although that was impossible to tell by the glow of their night vision goggles.
Gaz had reached a good position on a roof with a small generator which gave him some cover as he continued to scope the place out. The rest of Bravo Six waited, their restlessness growing with each minute. He couldn't see much of the bottom floor, but the top two had sleeping pirates, computers, and… There. A man was lying in a bed on the top floor. He couldn't see his face, but something told me this was the asshole they had come to kill: Marcus Blackridge. But he couldn't see Bane anywhere
"Pershing, this is Gaz. I have a tango on the top floor wearing a white button-up and jeans… It could be Notch," Gaz said, using Blackridge's codename. "I am not positive, repeat I am not positive. No sign of HVT one. Please advise."
There was a short silence. Then Pershing replied, "I copy, Gaz. We don't have time to confirm his identity. I don't know how long we have until the Black Sun find their dead. Silence any shooter's on the roof so we can move up to the building."
"Roger that, sir." Gaz said, and stilled his crosshairs on the sentry's chest. He breathed in, and so did the poor sod he was about to end. "Firing…" he breathed out. Gaz's finger smoothly curled tighter around the trigger until thwip. His rifle jerked a little, and the tango jerked a lot. After his body settled, he was concerned to see smoke rising from it. Then he realized his corpse was breathing out the drag he'd taken of his cigarette. Gaz shivered a little, sure that this was one of those scenes to show up in his nightmares after deployment was over.
"You're clear to the hotel, sir," Gaz told Pershing. Their figures moved out of the shadows and slunk to the building's wall.
He caught movement in his rifle's scope and Gaz settled it on the man in white on the top floor. He'd been woken up by a peculiar thump on the roof, and was now listening, bolt upright in his cot. Gaz knew his face from the picture Major Mercil had shown them. It was Blackridge.
"Captain, Captain," Gaz whispered excitedly into his mic. "I have a positive I.D. on Notch. He's in the only room on the top floor." Then he saw the dark forms of Some aliens stir from where they'd been resting. "And surrounded by multiple guards."
Pershing said, "Understood, Gaz. Keep me posted. Bravo, move into the hotel. Go quiet. All contacts are hostile except Blackridge. I want him alive."
The figures opened what passed for a door in this town. He watched them until they disappeared up the stairs. On the second floor, one of the Rangers—Walcoft, he thought—unsheathed a knife and stabbed one of the men. Above them, Blackridge and a burly pirate were arguing. Blackridge seemed nervous; he kept pointing up and asking some question that he couldn't hear. The pirate finally exclaimed something, unsheathed a machete, and walked towards the stairs. Blackridge sat down at his computer.
He knew he had to warn my comrades, so Gaz got on the radio again. "Gaz to Pershing. They're been alerted. There's a tango headed down the stairs and Blackridge is on his computer. Recommend you speed it up."
Pershing acknowledged Gaz and they took positions around the stairs to the top floor. As soon as the pirate appeared in the doorway, Pershing moved out from the wall to shoot him. But the enemy was remarkably fast and he ducked under Pershing's first shots. Shrugging off a round that had clipped him in the shoulder, the pirate threw himself forward and tackled Pershing to the ground, yelling bloody murder all the while.
Gaz gritted his teeth. His crosshair was floating around the two men, but he knew there was no way he could have a clear shot. Fortunately, Sparrow was on top of it. He viciously kicked the pirate in the ribs, who rolled off of Pershing... and went flying into the wall. That was good enough for Sparrow, who blasted him with his handgun. Note to self, never challenge Sparrow to CQC Gaz thought.
Gaz looked at Blackridge's room again. The three Black Sun were yelling and pointing their blasters at the closed door. Blackridge was still on his computer… Wait. He'd pulled up security camera feeds. Gaz saw tiny figures of the team moving into the stairwell.
"Shit! Pershing, you've been compromised. Blackridge has you on camera."
"Now would be a good time to start shooting instead of just watching, jackass," snarled Griffon.
Oh. Right, Gaz thought belatedly. Pershing confirmed that order a second later, and he was already aiming for one of the pirates. Thwip! Gaz's rifle coughed, and the pirate staggered sideways. He'd nailed him in the ribcage, hitting most of his vitals at once. Beautiful. The other two looked around wildly, and Gaz shot the second. The third man figured out what was happening and hit the deck, covering the back of his neck in a classic bomb-drill pose. Perhaps he thought he was safe on the floor somehow, or maybe he was hoping Gaz would have mercy. Either way, he was wrong.
"Bravo, all hostiles neutralized. There's only Blackridge left in there."
"Excellent," He heard Sparrow say.
The door flew open and the team filed in, making sure the room was secure. Blackridge grabbed a blaster pistol from his computer table and shakily aimed at Walcoft.
"I have a clean leg shot lined up," He told Pershing. "We can end it here!"
"Negative. I don't want to risk it," he replied. Then, speaking to Blackridge: "Drop your weapon! Do it now!"
Blackridge hesitated, and then very carefully placed his gun on the floor, his other hand raised in surrender. Sparrow walked forward and slammed the butt of his rifle into Blackridge's gut. The latter bent double, trying to suck in air. Sparrow kneed him in the face, and when Blackridge staggered backward, a boot extended to trip him. Gaz felt himself grinning. It was like a finishing move out of a Mortal Kombat game. Blackridge definitely looked like he'd been K.O.'ed, laying there pitifully as Sparrow put a zip-tie around his wrists.
"Captain, if we're going to go, we need to go NOW. It'll be daylight soon and I don't want to have to stick around."
"Copy Gaz, we'll rendezvous outside and make for the LZ"
2623 April 19th Earth Standard Calendar, Cyrillia System, CDR. Luke Sparrow.
Tree branches and bushes whipped by in indistinct blurs as they raced into the jungle. The sounds of Seatown gradually faded as the group put distance between themselves and Seatown. How Luke was still running, he didn't recall. Bravo had been fighting or running almost nonstop since the mission began, and now it was just less than a Klick to the LZ. Luke came to a lurching stop, casting a glance back the way he'd come. What was it that had spooked him? He listened and then he realized: the shooting had stopped altogether. Did that mean the last of Black Sun had given up were?
Luke stumbled on through the trees, and coming out onto the beach with the rest of Bravo. "Overlord, this is Bravo Six. Do you copy? We made it out of the town. Some fucking transport would be nice." Pershing called over the radio.
"Bravo Six, this is Overlord. Evac birds are on their way. Send up a flare when you're ready, and they'll pick you boys up." Overlord sounded worried. Luke guessed she had good reason to be.
Pershing acknowledged just as Luke reached a familiar landmark. It was the the spot near where Carver's body lay concealed. Luke tossed his pack in the sand, tempted to just sit back and watch the rhythmic advance and retreat of the tide. Only the thought of bloodthirsty pirates tracking him through the woods kept him going. Walcoft took out the flare gun, loaded up the last round, and pointed the shred of hope to the heavens.
"Firing flare," He yelled whoever was listening, and did just that. It left a streak of coloured smoke in its wake as peaked and slowly fell back to land near Luke on the beach, still spitting smoke and sparks. Luke trudged over to the hidden spot and removed the leaves that covered Carver.
"Feels like we're waiting at the bus stop," Luke chuckled at Griffons remark. The whine of an engine, appearing in the form of a Gunship that hovered nearby. Luke looked at it and wasn't too surprised to see that it was a droid Gunship, not a friendly, he was too worn out from the fifteen klick non-stop run while under fire for seven klicks. They had nothing on hand to kill it. So instead, Luke just gave it his snappiest one-fingered salute and stared down his soon to be killer.
A streak of screaming fire from a shoulder mounted rocket carved into the Gunship's side from the treeline behind Bravo Six, causing it to immediately wobble dangerously. Its engines screamed as it fought to retain control over its flight. Machine gun fire peppered its armour, and the wobble developed into a tailspin which sent it over Luke's head to crash in the tree line. He looked for the source, and saw a Warbird Gunship touchdown nearby on the beach. Luke watched as a squad of heavily customized clone armour, probably the LRRPPs mentioned from Mercil's briefing, either way, everyone from Bravo Six was too tired to care. Luke owed them a beer for them helping to shoot down the droid gunship.
Luke got up and walked towards the Warbird with the rest of Bravo Six and the LRRPPs while two army men grabbed carver's body and dragged it onto the Warbird. The people of the Orion Arm could sleep safely once more.
A/N
Check out 5.56V45's Contingency Protocol 666 where the Long Range Reconnaissance Planetary Patrol troopers are from.