Chapter Five - Special Operations
Just a quick note before you begin reading, any words that are in bold after this will be explained after this for the less military savvy.
The alarms didn't blare as the twelve-reploid team stood on the pulsating and flashing trans-server, the Resistance didn't stop to wish their brothers and sisters good bye as they carried out their chores and routines. Colbor didn't announce the successful transfer, Ciel didn't utter a word to anyone as the few military personnel in the data room observed the team through the multiple monitors. Cerveau worked alongside Rouge to maintain strong communication links and to survey the area.
"Homeland this is Raider One," Faucon whispered through the comms. "Team is in position and ready to move, over."
"Solid copy, Raider One," Rouge replied as she tapped away at holographic interface. "You are clear to proceed with Operation Hellgates! Homeland out!"
"Solid copy," the wary and kneeling captain replied. "Raiders out."
Ciel held her arms folded semi-tensely, the air heavy with her military-grade look and presence. Everyone knew the importance of re-establishing communications with Zero, if they couldn't communicate it would be like wielding a buster with broken sights, conveniently inaccurate and almost useless. But among them all, only Cerveau knew how Ciel truly felt. Cerveau glanced at her, as she stood so seriously, ever-patiently watching the monitors as the SRSS swiftly slid down and climbed over the sand dunes. Cerveau resumed monitoring the team, holographic images of all twelve reploids mimicking their every movement as they quickly moved through the desert, deftly sliding down sand and just as swiftly climbing over them, a six-meter spread in between them all.
"Rouge, have the scanners detected traces of enemy movement?" Cerveau inquired.
"Positive, three patrol choppers are in the ten-mile airspace radius from Zero's last location." She replied, zooming in on one that was nearing Zero's location. "One is dangerously close to Zero's location."
"Understood, opening comms." Cerveau tapped away at a holo-interface, putting Rouge through.
"Raider One this is Homeland, be advised, three choppers are in the ten-mile radius and one of them is closing in on Zero's position! Over!"
"Solid copy!" Faucon sprinted over an upward sloping dune. "Picking up the pace and engaging our heart-stoppers! Everyone! Six meter spread! Over!"
"Good to hear, exercise caution Raider! Homeland out!"
Rivaille's ocean blue hair bounced and waved over his eyes as he sprinted across the momentarily flat sands, his long and heavy Type-2 Long-Range Counter-Sniper Buster tugging down on every fibre of his being, slowly and almost impossibly unnoticeably tugging at his endurance. Rivaille dropped to his behind and slightly raised his heels above the sand, holding his T-2 LRCS well above the flashing sand as he slid down the sand dune. Without skipping a beat, Rivaille's right heel drove into the sand and his body lurched forward, the heavy momentum of his body carrying him off the dune into a fast-rolling stepping as he smoothed out the momentum and burst back into a flat sprint.
His breathing controlled, but strong, his arms and legs bursting with a speed unnatural to a reploid of his design for such a ridiculously long period of time. 'Ah, that's right,' his processor concluded. 'Zero's insane training is truly paying off. It always was.' Rivaille ascended an upward sloping dune within seconds, keeping up with even the elite Captain Faucon himself! Rivaille didn't quite get it, but his respiratory and cardiovascular systems had increased in efficiency almost entirely on their own with almost no external upgrades. Training, adjusting E-Crystal and skeletal frame enhancement fluid consumption, consuming liquefied metals to regenerate muscle fibres, it should've been impossible, but, it'd worked. Zero's training had brought the SRSS in particular as close to being human as they would ever be. Zero's training turned their mechanical, fixed limits and turned them into more human, obscure limits. In short, it'd made them adaptable.
The light panting of Rivaille's controlled breathing was accompanied by the smooth yet heavy stomps of reploid boots ploughing through the sand like ostriches across the desert sands. It was almost too quiet, sprinting and all, and once again Rivaille felt terrified. Once again he was behind enemy lines, his eyes darting about in search of hidden enemies and undetected threats as he and the commando squad bee-lined for Zero. Although it wasn't the same, Rivaille knew in his core that he was repaying Zero's favour from that time he'd rescued him and the others from Blizzack Stagroff. The sounds of battle that came through that door, the anxiety of watching for Neo-Arcadian Reploids to round that corner at the perfectly wrong time, he had to face these things again, but, so would Zero.
Rivaille kept sprinting, his eyes narrowing with both timidity and determination. His first combat run was gonna be his greatest, even if it was just repairing his helmet, he'd repay Zero's kindness and valour on the battlefield.
"Captain! Chopper Inbound!" Anastasia, the red-headed second in command, and the most ferocious female fighter in the Resistance, alerted the Captain and squad over the comms.
"Everyone hit the deck!" A soft thud! and an equally soft grinding sound generated by the sand crunching underneath his now prone body followed the order.
Rivaille dropped himself with a "Hunh!" and slapped himself down into the sand, rifle up, finger away from the trigger. Once the flying sand fell in small showers back to the desert ground he lowered his LRCS, cradling it across his biceps.
Sand hissed and screamed under the growling roar of the chopper's propellers, the sounds fading after a few moments of the undetected reploid commandos being pelted and slapped with heaps of disturbed sand. Rivaille kept his finger away from the trigger, scared hopeless of accidentally pulling the trigger. Silence, eerie and nerve-wracking as he lay half-buried like a zombie lying in ambush for unwary prey.
"All right, regroup!" The Captain ordered as he emerged, sheets of sand flowing gracefully off of his body as he rose. "Everyone on me!"
The other eleven zombies - or maybe mummies would be more appropriate to the setting - all emerged from the sand, jogging over to the kneeling Faucon. Rivaille dropped on his behind and slid as he approached the captain and the others, driving his heels into the ground a few short of them and slowly grinding to a halt before snapping up onto one knee.
The reploid captain briefly glanced at each of his soldiers, his commandos, as he activated a small PDA. A holographic display of the area displayed, with the sea of desert dunes and sands green, the twelve of them green, and their objective, Zero's chopper, silver.
"All right," Faucon considerately and thoughtfully boomed. "We're less than a click away from Zero's position, right? Now, Corporal Rivaille, you and Gunther will recon Zero's chopper."
"Mhm!" Rivaille nodded as he watched the two holographic projections of the himself and Gunther moving toward the chopper.
Gunther nodded, his long brown hair bouncing a little. "Affirmative!"
"Mike and Zoey will trail behind you by twenty metres, and the rest of us will circle around the area, set up a six-point perimeter, and await further instructions from Homeland, solid copy?
"Solid copy!" They all hummed in response.
"Anastasia, time?"
"D-Day, zero hours and fifteen minutes!" She replied.
"Good progress, good progress! Move out!" He ordered.
"Hooyah!" They all whisper-shouted as they awkwardly snapped to their feet.
Rivaille fell into a fast jog, this was the final stretch. Everything would rest on this operation.
"Hey, Corporal!" Gunther spoke a little louder than Rivaille was comfortable with. "I heard you know Zero, that true?"
"Very true." Rivaille replied moments before dropping and sliding down a dune, bursting back into his half-sprint with Gunther behind him. "Zero started training me weeks after he joined the Resistance!"
"Wow," Gunther huffed as he followed Rivaille. "So that's why you're so good with busters?"
"Yeah, keep quiet! Save your energy!"
"Y-yeah!"
They kept running, sliding, and climbing until the chopper entered their field of view as a small speck. Rivaille quickly dropped himself down to one knee and held up a clenched fist, Gunther dropping and sliding into place next to him. Rivaille lowered his fist and raised his LRCS' telescopic sight to his right eye, shutting his left eye as he placed the butt end of his buster's stock on his shoulder. Through the scope he saw more clearly that the chopper had been landed somewhat neatly. Rivaille raised his right hand from the trigger to the scope, turning a dial to increase the magnification. The chopper's fuselage had been lightly peppered by buster-fire, but nothing serious. There was nothing more to see.
Rivaille crept to his feet as he waved Gunther and the others forward, already jogging again. His core was racing, oil flowing through his system so quickly that it was giving the impression that his core wasn't even pulsing. As he neared the chopper, he grew more anxious, the air growing heavy with tension. Failure or success determinable only by Zero's being alive and well and right there in that chopper! Rivaille slowed down, LRCS raised, the muzzle following the sharp, anxious movements of his eyes as he and Gunther slowly crept up to the chopper.
"Gunther, go around the other side, see if the other door is open." Rivaille made a semi-circular gesture with his right hand.
"Solid copy." Gunther sprinted around, disappearing behind the chopper, and then returning.
"Well? Is it open or...?" Rivaille jumped back from the door as it slammed open, raising and lowering and re-raising and finally lowering his rifle.
'It's him! It's Zero! We've found him!' Rivaille smiled and gave a thumbs-up to Gunther. Gunther's eyes nearly exploded out of their sockets as he rushed around to see him.
"Z-Zero, sir!" He stammered.
"Don't call me that." Zero shot him down as he stepped out of the chopper.
Rivaille activated his comms. "Captain! We've found Zero! He's here, over!"
"Solid copy, Rivaille, good work! Opening up comms with Homeland!"
"Solid copy, sir! Rivaille out!" Rivaille responded as he turned to Zero.
"So, I see you're repaying your old debts, huh?" Zero cracked a small smile at his former pupil.
"Yeah, I am!" Rivaille chuckled. "Are you hurt?"
Zero nodded and pointed to his now semi-repaired wound on his waist. "That and I think that my helmet's comms systems are damaged. In the meantime, brief me on the plan."
"Sure! Lemme get Mike and Zoey over here first!" Rivaille turned, rifle in arm as he waved them forward. "So, here's the idea!"
A/N: Oh my gosh! It's been four weeks since I updated! What the heck am I doing? Seriously! But on a bright side, I finally got my laptop back! Problem is, I couldn't continue writing because my laptop doesn't have Wi-Fi, our desktop does. Which means I had to continue it (the chapter) on my desktop and that was just about impossible given my short attention span. Anyway! On to the translation!
1. Click=kilometre, it's a lot catchier and more convenient.
2. Mike, Zoey (or Zoe), Gunther, and Corporal Rivaille (also known as Captain Levi) are all characters from Attack on Titan! XD
3. D-Day equals the day an operation began. Zero hours and fifteen minutes simply means fifteen minutes since the op began.
4. Telescopic sight. The fancy military term for what we call the scope, it's something you attach to the rifle, not something that comes with the rifle. To go even more in-depth, there are three types of sights: iron sights, telescopic, and reflex. Iron sights are built onto the rifle, telescopic make use of powerful magnification lenses and are usually attachable, and reflex sights reflect light onto a set point on a lens, usually in the shape of crosshairs or something.
5. The stock end of a weapon is the back end, the end you can use to beat people to death with! This is made prominent in the original Call of Duty games and the Halo series. Subsequently the muzzle is the front and dangerous end, that part where the bullet or laser or whatever you're firing comes out. Never. Point. The Muzzle. At Anyone! At all! Unless you want them dead!