(Recommended listening: "Bad Boys [Main Title]" from the Bad Boys Movie Soundtrack by Mark Mancina. It's a hard soundtrack to find, as only 3000 CD copies were ever made. Youtube may have it)
It was late, and he was tired. A lone Drone Soldier walked his post in the center of the Drone encampment. The hour was almost up… pretty soon, central would start checking in with each of the roving guards. Once that happened, his watch would be over, and he could finally get some sleep.
His path carried him past the Assault Ship that had landed in the encampment only half an hour ago. It wasn't a large ship, meant for a small crew and their cargo. The Tribals had already been loaded onto the ship, and now the crew was waiting to be relieved before taking off, much like the guard himself.
Now underneath the radio jammer, the guard took a moment to inspect the main console. He ensured it was still running, with no errors, blah blah blah… the inspections were tedious, and in his opinion, unneeded. Nothing ever broke, and the Tribals weren't brave enough to try anything with dozens of armed soldiers around.
The Gemini's had been taken out, thanks to that helpful transmission, so they had nothing to worry about. Grant it, it was kind of odd to get a message warning of the Jet Force team's arrival, but the Drones weren't the type to look a gift warning in the mouth.
After verifying proper operation of the Jammer, the drone turned to leave when something caught his eye. There was something stuck to the bottom of the Jammer. It was pale, and something shiny glinted from inside it.
The soldier raised his radio to report the odd object when a frantic voice came over the radio. "We've got bodies here! The guards on duty at the mine… they're all dead!"
Central responded to the message, and the Drone listened intently. "Was it the Tribals?"
"No, we can't find any bodies from the enemy. They must've been planning this for weeks, to pull this off without any casualties."
"Or," Central corrected. "They've been planning it for a few hours with the Gemini Team. I've seen firsthand what they're capable of. Attention, all units! Go to full alert status as right now! Ship's crew, your prisoner transport just became hostages! Rover, start distributing the Heavy Weapons!"
"Central, this is Rover," the Drone chose his moment. "I've got an unidentified object stuck to the bottom of the Jammer tower. Can you send someone to investigate?"
"What does it look like?"
"Like a… pale lump," the soldier described.
From her position in a shrub outside the camp, Vela smiled as she depressed the button on the side of her bow. "Kaboom…"
Inside the ship, a crew of six Drone Soldiers stood behind six Tribals, each with a gun to the back of the furry white creature in front of them. They were restless and nervous. After Central had issued a full alert, an explosion had sounded from the direction of the Jammer Tower. Small arms fire had started all around the ship, and the crew inside had scrambled to carry out the orders they'd been given.
But now… it was all quiet. Too quiet. The Tribals were just as nervous as they were, fidgeting and whispering amongst themselves. The only entrance to the ship was directly in front of them. Individually, each person steeled themselves for the worst.
Knock, knock. An unmistakeable pounding on the front door arrested everyone's attention.
"Whose there?" the Drone in charge answered.
"This is Captain Juno of Jet Force Gemini. Open the doors, surrender your weapons, and we will let you leave this planet unharmed."
"And why would we do that?" The leader retorted. "We clearly have the upper hand. You can't get in, and we have hostages. Now that we know everyone else is probably dead, I think we'll just leave with our quarry. Right boys?" The other Drones nodded in agreement.
"I'm afraid we can't let you do that. Those Tribals don't belong to you, or anyone else. Last chance, are you going to surrender?"
The leader switched back to his rudimentary Drone language, cursing Jet Force and laughing in a low guttural voice. The other Drones joined in, while the Tribals went strangely quiet. After a minute, the Drones had calmed down, but no other sounds could be heard. It appeared that the Gemini team had left.
"Hello?" the leader called out.
All the lights inside the Assault Ship suddenly went out, plunging the group into complete darkness for a few seconds before the emergency lights kicked in. The Drones snapped to a ready position, aiming around with their pistols, looking for intruders. The Drone leader suddenly realized his own foolishness.
"Aim at the front door, idiots! That's the only way into this ship!"
"Intruder Alert." The ship's computer came over the intercom system. "An attempt has been made to hack into the Main Computers. Recommend deploying gas deterrent."
"If they hack into our systems, they'll control everything!" a rookie Drone freaked.
"No, they won't," the leader calmed them. "The controls for the Front door and life support are on a different subsystem. They can't access those systems from the outside. But, let's surprise them anyways." The leader walked over to the intercom and replied. "Acknowledged, computer. Release the gas!"
"Voice command authorized, releasing gas into Main Entranceway."
"Wait, what?" the Drone leader cried. "Abort, computer! Abort!"
It was too late, though. Coughing gas poured into the space from the ventilation ducts, covering the ground and rising fast. The Tribals, the closest to the ground, began to cough uncontrollably as the heavy gas replaced the oxygen in their lungs. The Drones began to succumb soon after, caught off guard by the sudden turn of events.
Out of the corner of his eye, the lead Drone saw the rookie running towards the emergency ventilation switch on the aft wall. That opens all the vents to outside air… wait. The leader tried to call out to the rookie in vain; the gas had already taken over his lungs.
The next events happened smoothly and precisely, like a well rehearsed ballet. The Rookie Drone slammed his claw on the Emergency Ventilation button, opening the vent slits on the roof of the ship. Vela, who was on top of the ship aiming down through the vents, exhaled and auto locked on the main door controls with her homing missile. She fired, and the rocket soared through the duet to the main entranceway, directly into the door controls. The explosion short circuited the controls, causing the Front door to hiss open.
In the entranceway was Juno. In the space of two seconds, he acquired the location of every Drone and Tribal in the room, and let off six successive Jet Force Pistol shots so fast, they sounded like one continuous fire. Six bodies fell to the floor of the ship, green blood oozing out of gaping holes in each of their foreheads.
Juno holstered his pistol and ran into the smoke filled ship, with Lupus and several Tribals outfitted with gas masks close behind.
From her vantage point at the vents, Vela watched the scene beneath her unfold. It was always Juno, wan't it? Juno was her brother. Her twin. But he was so much better at, well… everything. He could shoot, he could fly, he could make smart tactical decisions. He could do everything that she couldn't.
Why? Why does it have to be him? Him with all the talent? Him to face Mizar in the final battle? Even Lupus had a shot! Why not me?
Author's Note: I like this storyline, and will be continuing it for awhile (much to Shadow's dismay). If you're reading this, please take a moment to write a review. The more I get, the more likely I am to write a new chapter sooner. Any suggestions on plot flow are appreciated as well, though at this point, I've got my path for this story pretty down pat. Thanks, and enjoy!
-Nex