Hey everybody,
Sorry this update took so long. It's been busy lately and I haven't had as much time to write as I hoped. Hopefully the size of this update and the fact that it's two chapters makes up for it. Originally I'd meant this to be one chapter but it ended up longer than I'd originally thought which is fine but I decided to slit it up. Hope you all enjoy and by all means review!
-James
Chapter 3: One Thing After Another
Alarms echoed across the Dominion outpost. All over the base civilian personnel and armored marines ran to and fro in a state of organized chaos. More marines began emerging from the mobile Barracks, clad in full combat armor, and moving to pre-established positions throughout the base. Many of these groups moved slowly with a hint of uncertainty in their movements. It had been a long time since the Braxis Station's warning system had gone off in earnest. There had been drills but they were infrequent and few ever thought they would be put into action anytime soon.
They'd been wrong.
The base was small, the more top secret weapons development was done at more secure locations. The actual research facility and flight hanger was built into a steep hillside that was the only landmark for miles in the generally flat Braxis wasteland. Nestled against the hill were the support buildings. A mobile command center, barracks, and armory were arrayed in close proximity. On three sides of the buildings was a steep berm of frozen dirt and stone with a bunker at each corner and a gatehouse at the eastern berm. Within the protection of the berm, near the gatehouse, were two older model siege tanks that were deployed into their artillery setup, commonly known as siege mode, so as to provide supporting fire against any attackers directed by spotters in the bunkers. Near the entrance to the hillside hanger were two anti-air missile turrets that protected the base from airborne attack. All in all the facility was thought to be relatively secure. It was by no means the best protected outpost in the Dominion but it wasn't the least either.
On this day lights flashed all over the research station as the long quiet alarms shrieked their warning of an impending attack. The siege tank's great hundred and twenty millimeter shock cannons rotated slightly as the operators went though last minute checks on the big guns. In the hanger eight wraiths went through their pre-flight checks as the pilots rushed to ready the attack craft.
Up in the command center's observation deck Lieutenant Stefanowski watched the rush of activity below him, the panic rising in him abating slightly as he watched the base ready itself for attack. Fingering his empty coffee mug nervously he shot a glance at the comm tech.
"Is everything good?"
The tech didn't take his eyes from his screen as he monitored the reports coming in from around the base.
"All the bunkers report they're set. Both siege tanks are reporting their systems operational and the wraiths should be ready for launch in a few minutes." He finally spared a glance at the nervous lieutenant. "You know the Captain will be on his way up now right?"
Stefanowski's eyes darted toward the metal door to the observation deck before moving back to the tech.
"He can't be that pissed right? We didn't have any reason to suspect we'd lose contact with the QRF… They could just be having comm issues…"
The tech just looked at him, pity in his eyes, before he turned back to his screen.
"WHAT IN THE SPHINCTER OF HELL ARE YOU DOING TO MY BASE!"
The doors to the observation deck slid aside and Captain Mauser stormed into the room with death in his eyes. The captain was fully armored in a red tinted Dominion combat suit with two bright silver bars emblazoned on the chest denoting his rank. At his side was holstered a large caliber pistol and the man shook with fury, even through the armored suit. The large boots rang menacingly as they advanced across the observation room's metal floor. Stefanowski found himself unconsciously backing up before the intimidating site.
"S-sir one of the patrols came under fire to the east. I d-dispatched the quick reaction force to help them but we… lost contact with them a few minutes ago. I put the base on high-"
The enraged Mauser, who had finally reached the panicking lieutenant, cut him off. Grabbing him by his camouflaged collar, the Captain easily lifted him up in his red power armored hands and slammed him none-too-gently against the wall. Stefanowski gasped as all the air rushed out of his lungs and pain exploded from his shoulders. Mauser brought the spluttering man up to his eye level, almost a foot and a half off the ground in his hardskin, and practically spat his next words into the young lieutenants face.
"And you didn't think to have someone wake me up and tell me that MY TROOPS WERE UNDER ATTACK! And now we've probably lost an entire squad of marines and four good goliath's! You stupid little shit do you realize what you've done!" He glared at Stefanowski, who was struggling to refill his lungs and clawing at Mauser's armored hands. Growling in disgust Mauser let go of the wide-eyed man, letting him crash to the floor in a coughing, gasping heap. Ignoring the little bastard Mauser turned to the tech who had watched the whole thing with a pitying but surprisingly Unsurprised look on his face.
"What's our status!" Mauser snapped as he stomped over to look out the observation window.
"All bunkers and the tanks are set in a defensive posture sir. The wraiths should be warmed up and ready to launch any second and all reserve marines are geared up and standing by at their rally points," the tech glanced up at the Captain. Mauser was still fuming, but he was also looking down and appraising the base defenses.
"Get all troops up on that berm. I want every idiot who knows how to pull a trigger ready to hold that line. We may not know what's out there but if they can take down an entire squad and a team of goliaths we're not taking any chances."
The tech relayed the orders to the defenders below. Then the terminal next to him beeped and he spared it a glance. When he saw the screen his eyes widened.
"Sir! Sensors show incoming aircraft! Looks like… four dropships and four wraiths. They're not ours."
Mauser moved over and examined the screen before cursing and turning back to Stefanowski, who had finally managed to regain his breath and climb to his feet.
"Is that sidearm loaded lieutenant?" he spat the last word like it tasted vile.
"Y-yes sir…"
"Then get down on that berm and hold that line. If you survive maybe your not completely useless. If not…" he let the last statement hang threateningly.
Without giving the red faced young officer a chance to respond Mauser turned and hit the tech's transmitter.
"All units be advised…"
0000
"… we have incoming hostiles. Make ready for enemy ground and air action. Terminate all incoming targets with extreme prejudice."
"Whoooeee! Been a while since we done had any action in this shithole eh sarge?" Corporal Black shouted down to Sergeant White from the siege tank's gunner seat. White looked up at Black in contempt. What the hell had he done to be teamed with this illiterate redneck hillbilly?
Cpl. Black was short, with a pasty white complexion, buck teeth, lean, and had a voice that made anybody who heard it want to stab him repeatedly with any remotely sharp objects that were nearby. In contrast, Sgt. White was tall, dark skinned, muscular, with a deep bass voice, and he'd graduated at the top of his class from the siege tank operator's course.
Ironic?
The assholes at battalion had thought so. With one look at their two records some godless paper-pushing miscreant had decided that they absolutely MUST be put into the same tank team. This had led to the past year, the longest in White's five years in the Marines, in which he'd struggled every agonizing day not to sew the lanky little bastards mouth shut.
"Shut the hell up Black! This shit's serious! Now lock the cannon into place and stand by for targeting data from the grunts."
Black had the good sense to look abashed.
"Roger that Sarge."
"It's Sergeant damnit!"
"Copy that Sarge."
White growled in frustration but turned back to examine the tank's short-range sensors, waiting to see the telltale red dots indicating enemy contacts. Not for the first time he let his thoughts roam toward fantasies of finding the smug little pen jockey that had saddled him with this gap toothed moron as a gunner. His thoughts were dark, bloody, and he doubted his grandmother would have approved. Irritably he pulled himself out of his pleasant little fantasy and addressed his gunner without looking back.
"Black, make sure that your targeting system's linked with Juarez in the other tank. I don't want any confusion once the shooting starts."
Black gave no response except the sound of metal scraping leather.
Recognizing the sound Sergeant White felt a cold chill run down his spine and turned slowly toward his gunner. He found a pistol barrel in his face.
"C-Corporal what the hell are you doing?"
He looked up into Black's face. The pasty little man wasn't even looking at him, though the pistol was pointed straight at White's face. Black was staring off into nothing, a strange glazed look in his eyes. White saw his end in those eyes. He briefly wondered if there'd be anything after death. Or would it just be… black?
The irony hit him at the same time as the bullet.
0000
Lieutenant Stefanowski stumbled to a stop before the thick metal doors that lead out of the command center. Leaning against the wall he stared at the exit nervously and checked his pistol for what seemed like the hundredth time. He had run all the way from the observation deck, cursing himself all the way down. Why? On his first damned day! He'd been an officer for less than a week and already everything was going to hell in a hand basket. He'd just arrived at his first post and already he was going into combat.
His eyes widened at that realization and his hand tightened on the pistol's grip. Combat? Already? The simulators on Korhal were one thing but this was the real thing. The bullets were real. The blood was real. And if he went down out there he wasn't getting back up. Sure he'd trained for this…
That though sent a jolt of nervous determination through him.
I trained for this!
He slammed the exit button on the wall before his nerves got the better of him and the large doors slid to either side with a scrape and a thump. He winced as a gust of cold air rushed into the metal corridor, hitting him like a wall of ice and ruffling his grey regulation fatigues. With a growl meant to encourage himself more than anything he pulled his pistol from the holster and charged down the ramp to the concrete below where he pulled up short, the sight before him seeming wrong even to his inexperienced mind.
Several hundred meters away towards the gate one of the siege tanks hadn't positioned it's cannon. In fact the cannon was actually rotating away from the berm and towards…
The other siege tank.
Just as the thought came into Stefanowski's mind that he should warn someone the cannon fired with a deafening boom that echoed all around the base and caused more than one of the greener marines to jump at the titanic sound. What turned almost every head, including the more experienced men and women, was the sound of the other siege tank exploding. The hundred and twenty millimeter shell ripped through it's companion tank's armor and detonated turning the Dominion tank into a fireball that blasted twisted metal in all directions, including the warped remains of that tanks own cannon.
Immediately voices erupted over the comm earpiece that he'd thrown in as he sprinted through the command center. Everyone was shouting. No one knew what was going on. And all the while the rogue tank's turret kept turning.
"What the hell was that!"
"Command Ironside Two's lost their minds!"
"It's aiming in on the missile turret!"
With another thunderous boom the tank's cannon fired again. This time one of the outpost's two missile turret's exploded in a violent flash of flames and shredded metal. And still the cannon kept on turning. Stefanowski watched in complete shock, barely registering Captain Mauser on the comm.
"I don't care who but somebody kill that tank RIGHT GODAMNED NOW!" his voice shook with a mix of shock and fury.
"This is Venom Three, gemini missiles armed. I've got it."
The defenders eyes turned skyward as eight wraiths came screaming out of the base hangar. One pilot brought his starfighter into a hover and began orienting his craft down toward the tank and it's still rotating cannon. Both the fighter and the cannon reached their firing positions at the exact same time. The hiss of the wraith's missile being launched sounded right as the siege tank's cannon thundered for its final time. The gemeni missile crossed the distance to its target in an eyeblink and the rebellious tank detonated violently.
So did the base's second missile turret.
"Command that was our last missile turret!"
"Both our siege tanks are down!"
Captain Mauser's voice cut over the command frequency. The fury had largely faded from his tone leaving shock and what was sounding more and more like a grim resignation.
"All unit's this is the commanding officer. You are warriors of the Terran Dominion. Whatever comes over that horizon you WILL fight and you WILL hold the line. For the Emperor and the Dominion!"
A few men cheered. A few acknowledged. A few looked at their comrades and made snarky remarks. Who the fekk is the Emperor? I don't see Arcturus fekking Mengsk freezing his ass off on this shithole planet with an unknown and apparently very clever enemy closing in on him. Most of them however, simply shouldered their weapons and settled into a more comfortable firing position to wait.
Lieutenant Stefanowski looked on the burning tanks and missile turrets in horror from his position outside the command center. He watched as Venom Three turned his Wraith starfighter back to the east, cut in his afterburners, and rocketed off to join the other outgoing Dominion fighters. It was only out of the corner of his eye that he noticed the distortion. Numbed by the disaster his day was turning into but still curious he turned and looked at a rapidly approaching anomaly. The air seemed to bend in ways that weren't natural but that he wouldn't have noticed if he wasn't looking right at it.
All of the other Dominion personnel were at battle stations. No one saw the fatigue clad lieutenant's head jerk back as though struck, or watched as the young man crumpled to the ground. No one noticed as a patch of distorted air moved up the ramp and into the outpost's command center.
0000
Venom Three cut his afterburners as he settled into formation with the other Dominion wraiths accelerating away from the Braxis Station. Matching speed with the other fighters he adjusted his breather mask then flashed a thumbs up toward the squadron commanders craft, which was about fifty meters to the his left outside his canopy.
"Venom Leader this is Three, I'm in position."
"Copy Three. Alright Venoms I'm reading four enemy wraiths moving to intercept us before we can get to their dropships. Spread out and take 'em down as soon as we get into range."
Three acknowledged and listened as the other pilots did the same. He could see the incoming wraiths rapidly closing the distance with Venom Squadron. A few seconds later he heard a beeping noise and watched as the incoming fighters were outlined in green on his heads up display as his targeting computer sought a missile lock. From another part of his cockpit a more grim alarm started to sound and a red light flashed as the incoming fighters sought to do the same thing to him.
Four against eight? These guys didn't stand a chance. A wicked smile spread across Three's face, though it was hidden by his mask, and his thumb hovered over the missile launch button on his stick. Just another few seconds…
"Bogies! Bogies! They're right on top of us! All Venoms break off and ta..."
Three was just registering the warning when he was suddenly surrounded by incoming laser fire. One burst hit home and Venom Leader's transmission was cut off when the beams ruptured a fuel cell and his wraith blasted apart in a sudden explosion. Fighting back shock Three yanked his stick to the right, turning his fighter and breaking right and down, narrowly avoiding a burst of laser fire that had been meant for him.
Many of his squadron mates weren't so lucky. As he pulled his fighter back around he watched no fewer than four of the green dots representing the other Venoms wink out on his scanner. Half the squadron down in a matter of seconds! He leveled out and watched as eight more enemy wraiths dove down on his luckless squadron. The bastards had been hiding in the cloud cover! Peeling off into pairs the enemy fighters moved to hunt down the surviving Venoms.
"Mayday! Mayday! My left engines out! I'm going down!"
"Their everywhere!"
"Shit I've got a whole mess of the bastards on my tail! Going evasive!"
A cold realization settled in Three's stomach. They were done. His certainty only increased a moment later when a pair of wraiths in blue trim settled in behind him and his alarm started screaming at him as they sought a missile lock. Swearing, Three sent his fighter into a roll in an attempt to shake his pursuit. He winced slightly as the G-forces of the violent maneuver started to overwhelm his compensators, pushing him back into his seat.
As he came out of the spin, cursing to see the enemy wraiths still in stubborn pursuit, he spotted another pair of the blue painted attackers passing below him and he banked to follow. As he settled in, following as the enemy fighters bobbed back and forth trying to evade him, one of the two broke off and decelerated rapidly. Venom Three blasted past, still doggedly pursuing the remaining bogie. Behind him the other fighter settled in behind him and opened up with his burst lasers, along with the other two pursuers. Three jinked his stick back and forth, momentarily evading the beams, and prayed for a missile lock.
It seemed to take hours though in reality it only took a few seconds. The steady beeping became a solid tone and the enemy fighter turned red in his HUD. The desperate pilot punched the red button on his stick and with a triumphant yell sent a missile streaking into the other wraiths engines, turning the craft into a raging fireball.
Venom Three's yell continued as he blew through the center of that fireball. Pieces of shattered wraith pinged off his own fighter's hull but it didn't spoil his good humor. He sobered instantly, however, when he came out the other side and saw the missile streaking straight at him from the direction of the other enemy wraiths. The ones that had been escorting their dropships. Three only had time to grunt in surprise before the warhead impacted and his world became one of fire and pain.
0000
"We're losing them sir!"
A note of panic was starting to creep into the normally calm techs voice. It had been just one thing after another today and the man had a front row seat to each of the day's disasters. Across from him at the viewport stood the red armored Captain Mauser who watched the distant explosions grimly as the outpost's fighter squadron was systematically wiped out. The tech took another glance at the sensors.
"That was the last of them sir."
Mauser glanced at him, a look of resignation in the old veteran's eyes.
"Did you get that distress call out to command?"
"Yes sir. Will they… do you think they'll get here in time."
Mauser turned to face the tech, the heavy metal boots of his hardskin thudding against the metal floor. The Captain's armored hands were clasped behind his back and a dangerous gleam had entered his eye.
"Be real man. You know as well as I do the closest reinforcements are at least three days away. There's a reason they call it a fringeworld."
"Y-yes sir. What are your orders?"
"Are all the research staff secured in the lab?"
The tech nodded, a cold feeling gripping him as he realized where this was going.
"Sir… are we-"
Mauser nodded as he moved over to a small control panel to the right of the tech.
"We're going to do what we have to son. We've got to make sure that research and tech doesn't fall into the wrong hands." He looked at the tech sharply. "Run a diagnostic on those demo charges. I don't want any more surprises today."
"Y-Yes Captain."
Hands shaking slightly the tech punched in the necessary commands to his control panel. Another beep from the sensor monitor drew his attention.
"Sir we've got enemy ground forces landing about a klick from the berm. It looks like siege tanks and infantry"
Mauser nodded, unsurprised, but didn't respond. Instead he leaned over, bending low in his combat suit to bring his eye level with an ocular scanner. The voice of the command center adjutant, the artificial intelligence that ran the more basic base operations, came over a speaker.
"State name and access code."
"Captain Victor Mauser. Three, six, eight, niner, bravo, x-ray."
"Identity confirmed Captain. The lab will be ready to self-destruct in eight seconds."
Mauser spared a glance at the tech, who nodded nervously.
"The charges are showing all green sir."
The Captain nodded and turned back to the panel. His armored hand hovered over a glass-covered button. He opened his mouth to speak, maybe an apologetic farewell for the unsuspecting scientists and researchers that were about to be buried under tons of metal and rock. Instead he grunted as a knife stabbed deep into his forehead, killing him almost instantly.
The tech watched, completely shocked, as a line of faint blue light revealed a human hand holding the knife that was embedded in the Captain's head. As the light expanded it revealed an arm, then a chest, and legs, and then a pair of hard grey eyes framed by a grizzled face. In the space of a few seconds a man stood where before there had been nothing. He wore a body suit that clung tightly to his strong frame and periodically a line of blue light would run up each side of the suit, outlining the curves of his musculature even further. The suit came all the way up to the man's neck and he wore a set of Thermal/Night Vision goggles that were resting on his forehead. He had a head of close-cropped grey hair, a matching beard, and a face that seemed too old and worn to be attached to a body that would have looked good on a man of twenty years.
The tech finally overcame his shock and rose from his seat, pulling his pistol as he did so.
Not fast enough.
As he rose the assassin, one of the infamous ghosts, yanked his knife out of Mauser's corpse in a gush of blood then almost casually flung the knife at the tech. The man was most of the way out of his seat, his pistol just clearing his holster, when the knife embedded itself in his left eye. He was dead instantly, and toppled to the floor in a heap.
The ghost wasted no time stepping over the twitching tech's body, leaving his knife where it was for the moment. He moved quickly to the thick ballistic viewport that looked down on the outpost's defenses. Reaching into a pouch at his waist he removed a small breaching charge and stood gazing out the viewport, waiting.
He didn't have to wait very long. Within a few seconds a storm of blue painted wraiths came screaming over the Dominion research station, unleashing a second storm of missiles and laser fire as they went. Explosions sounded all across the base and men and women screamed as they died under the intense barrage. A few groups of marines tried to focus their fire on the airborne attackers but against so many fast moving targets they weren't particularly effective.
It had been a tricky matter to dominate the siege tank crewmember but it had been worth it. The base's siege tanks had been ruthlessly put out of action and the destruction of the missile turrets had cleared the way for the wraith attack and the ghost's advance through the station.
Amidst this chaos the grey haired assassin stepped up to the viewport and slapped the charge against the ballistic glass. Punching a few numbers into the charge's timer he hit the execute button before moving swiftly back behind the protection of one of the observation deck's consoles. As he crouched down he pulled a large sniper rifle from his back and checked the chamber to make sure it was loaded and ready to fire. A half second later the charge detonated blowing the glass outward from the command center and then the man was once again in motion.
Moving up to the former window, ignoring the blast of cold air that hit him as he came, he settled down on the floor a few feet back from the opening. As he dropped he hit a button on the side of his canister rifle and two stands popped out of the forward portion of the gun. Crawling cautiously forward he settled the weapon down, supported by the tripod and against his shoulder, and looked through the scope.
The base was in chaos. Broken bodies and armor lay amidst the surviving Dominion marines. Fires had broken out in a few places from the wraith attacks though they seemed to be focusing most of their attention on the bunkers. One of which had collapsed with it's surviving occupants crawling painfully from the ruins. The Dominion line stubbornly held on though. As the ghost watched, combined rifle fire punctured one of the wraith's fuel lines. Not enough to bring it down but enough to seriously damage the craft. The pilot broke off his attack run, turning the smoking fighter to the east and limping away from the fighting. The other wraiths were not deterred however, and continued strafing the Dominion ground forces from all directions.
No one seemed to have noticed the explosion on the command centers observation deck though, or if they did they likely assumed it was the work of the attacking starfighters. Without taking his eye from the scope the ghost adjusted himself so that his body was lined up behind the rifle. Reaching up to the comm fitted into his ear he keyed the transmitter three times, saying nothing. That finished he took a firm hold of his rifle. A Dominion marine was lining up a large shoulder fired rocket launcher at the attacking wraiths. The grey haired ghost sighted in, exhaled slowly, and then squeezed the trigger.