Soon, the rest of the unit was off, and in their old uniforms. Volx and Kazak would have to work together as a pair of Spec Ops looking for prospects, the others were able to blend in with Troopers and Elites. Corr planned to watch one potential target with Sula, both in IIA equipment ready to go, until a last minute change to the plan dictated otherwise. Hesa remained with her standard gear as an interesting twist in the plan oddly derived by Haxx, use her as a decoy to protect one critical target. See if their kit was drawing them away. As the others left, she sat back, waiting for a ride to come for her.
Outside, the two Vortians watched the departures, arriving late enough to think they were just simple patrols and nothing more, missing their leaving the ship, the plan still intact. Their own plan was in motion to breach their ship and search for intel...and that was moving into a great unknown. The risk was worth it for potential intel. Little did they know that Vult, Hesa, Sula, and Corr waited within.
Sula, doing her best to remain composed beneath the circumstances, stood at-the-ready with her plasma rifle slung across her chest and within reach. A nervous swallow as she looked between her superior officers and squadmates.
"...Sir?" She hesitantly began.
"Yes, Sula?" Vult responded.
"Permission to speak freely, Sir?"
"Of course."
"Are you sure this plan is going to work? Not that I doubt you, Sir...just...the four of us...and if what the prisoner said is true…" She left hang.
"Nothing is certain in this universe. You and I both know that," He opened with much to her chagrin. "...but if I were lead an Op on Devastis...after witnessing more of the strangely-dressed soldiers showing up and frequenting this vessel...I'd want to know details about it. Find a way in...gather intelligence...sabotage it...take out any of those unsuspecting."
"Right...o-of course...the last part concerns me." She wistfully smiled, trying to keep her spooch from flip-flopping with anxiety.
"Just stay relaxed and focus on your training. Another walk in the park for us. You know these halls well. Home advantage in the most literal sense."
"Yes, Sir." She nodded, her nerves leveling out with her commanding officer's assurances.
"We have several points of entry," Corr started, looking at his IIA equipment waiting for later before looking back to the others. "The bridge, cargo hold, the hangar, and of course the gangway...I doubt they're going to come through the front door...but I think they think we'll be expecting that, so they won't try it. We need to cover the other three points. I can take the hangar, Sula takes the cargo bay, we're close enough to help the other out if we need to. That leaves Hesa and the Commander covering the bridge."
"Looks clear, drop the sentries, on your shot," Vara spoke to Jur, who dropped one sentry followed by a shot from her sniper rifle. The two then rappelled down using electrical wires as improvised ropes, hiding the bodies of the two IIA soldiers dead outside. She motioned towards the cargo bay, intending to breach through that route. It was a matter of her trying to slice the security systems without being detected, or this was going to be one rather short mission.
"Yes, Sir," Sula obeyed, taking up Corr's six, following him through the ship before arriving at the adjacent cargo bay to the hangar. Their supplies and provisions were stored there in sealed, interlocking cases, creating an odd maze of magnetic crates from floor to ceiling. Very claustrophobic with little way to maneuver. Not the sort of place anyone wanted to be caught by surprise in.
Vult nodded at his second-in-command's recommendation, turning to Hesa. "Post up on the door after they leave. Nothing in or out. I'm going to monitor our CCTV for any activity. SiR!"
"Commander!" The tiny robot snapped a salute.
"Sentry mode, main airlock. Set scanners to EM. FoF Identifiers active."
"Commands received, Commander. Executing." It assured, spinning about-face before leaving the room, destined for the primary mode of entry in and out of the vessel while docked. The front door as it were.
"Comms check," Vult tested, reaching out to Sula and Corr.
"Loud and clear, Sir." Sula responded, adjusting her helmet for comfort before returning her hand to the grip of her rifle.
"Good comms, Commander, loud and clear," Corr responded.
"Test, test," Hesa spoke up, "Solid on my end. I'll watch the door." Sula and Corr took the elevator down and went to their stations, Hesa lingering for a bit and waiting for a bit to crack a smile at Vult. "Try not to die of boredom." With that, she walked outside and secured the door, a more typical GPMG at the ready rather than her preferred rotary cannon.
It took almost a minute, but it worked as the cargo bay door unlocked. "Go, go," The two Vortians moved inside as the personnel access airlock opened and cycled, the two Vortians cloaked and made their way in, taking cover as they heard footsteps. It was Sula, Jur aimed his rifle, ready to deliver a suppressed killshot. Vara, however, wasn't convinced as she fumbled about. She seemed very...out of her element. "Hold one," continuing to watch, she soon noticed the medical insignia on her uniform. "Looks like a medic, bypass."
"Right," Jur responded as he moved closer and stopped, Sula making an unexpected turn in his direction. He tried to press himself against the nearby crate, but the medic stumbled into him and almost fell over. In confusion, she started touching the source of the unknown impediment and that's when she noticed the diffraction of light, and that it was moving. But before she could say anything, he deactivated his cloak and delivered a right hook to her head, instinctively switching to his armor-shield mode rather than strength in case she opened fire. She was out, that much was apparent.
"Smooth…" Vara quipped as he recloaked and the two moved, needing to cut through the hangar before getting to some intel.
Sula, unconscious from the sudden strike from her unseen attacker, crumpled, sliding down the impromptu wall of stacked and secured crates in a heap. Her helmet shifted from the impact with a noticeable dent in the side of it of approximate size and depth of one Vortian male fist clad in an armored gauntlet.
Corr, meanwhile, was slowly patrolling the adjacent hangar where their dropship and light armor and reconnaissance support resided at. Aero's domain. A large, relatively open area kept clean and pristine by the First Sergeant with a threat to the livelihood of anyone that touched her tools or misplaced things without asking her permission first.
"Purple-1, nothing to report…" Corr kept in contact with Vult and the others. "Red-6, copy?"
Silence.
The Captain ceased his steady gait before keying his radio again.
"Red-6, Purple-1, how copy?"
Nothing.
"Red-1, Purple-1."
"Red-1, go ahead." Vult answered, snapping through the CCTV monitors, watching for anything out of the ordinary.
"Red-6 is unresponsive to comms."
Vult's heart skipped a beat as his mind immediately drew conclusions. He feared the worse.
"Red-6, Red-1, respond." Vult tried, following protocol and avoiding making a critical mistake. Maybe it was faulty equipment. Stranger things have happened before. He wasn't going to leave it to chance. "Purple-1, Red-1, move to the cargo bay and make contact with Red-6."
"Purple-1 copies, Red-1," Corr concluded with a deep breath. Something was amiss. Something felt off. Had Vult's intuition proved to be true? Only one way to find out.
Safety off, muzzle up, Corr began scanning for potential targets as he moved with purpose. He left his comms open to not take a hand off his weapon.
"Red-6, Purple-1, respond. Sula, respond." He reiterated, arriving at the entrance to the darkened cargo bay. His visor sensed the light level, automatically shifting to night vision. Overhearing Vult's last order to the SiR Unit, he made a manual adjustment, turning on the EM scanner in addition. Not even their own cloaking technology was impervious to it.
The two passed Corr, neither thinking it wise to set off any further potential alert...they clearly weren't alone. They'd need to pass by the 'front door' of the ship to move further inward once they passed through the hangars. Stopping midway in the hall, the two briefly switched off their cloaks to let their suit power recharge before reactivating them once more, not getting much farther before needing to take cover again.
Vara nodded to Jur, the other Vortian letting his rifle rest against his chest from its sling as he pulled out a ranged stun gun, an unconventional option more expected from Vort's police forces, but oddly useful now. Aiming around the corner, the laser landed right on the SiR unit's torso before a brief pop, barbs embedding in the small mech's frame as the electricity overloaded its circuits and caused it to fall flat on its face.
After giving it another shock to make sure it was fried, he reloaded the cartridge and moved on with his commander. The two stopped when they noticed the briefing room and tried to make their way inside. With the room open, the two slipped inside and locked the door, uncloaking for now as Vara went to one of the terminals and started working on cracking it.
Corr moved with purpose through the labyrinth of the cargo hold. Every corner was swiftly checked, he didn't linger at intersections longer than necessary, and always checked his six with great regularity. After several moments, he turned a particular corner, seeing a body on the floor. A familiar one.
"Ikveda muroto," he cursed under his breath, rapidly approaching Sula's supine form. Immediately, he looked her over for any signs of trauma. Nothing was bleeding or broken. Her pulse at the neck was slow, but strong. Unconscious. Fresh damage to the side of her helmet.
"Red-1, Red-6 is down," He relayed, digging deep and focusing on protocol to remain focused and free of panic. "Unconscious, but stable. Blunt force trauma to the head."
Before Vult could continue that particular conversation, he switched the CCTV over as he had done a couple dozen times by now, coming to stop on the briefing room. The blood in his veins froze as he saw two Vortian strangers in composite, armored suits unlike anything he'd ever seen before. Their mysterious strangers on Devastis had paid them a personal visit, just as anticipated.
"Purple-1, Red-1, is she stable?"
"Confirmed, Red-1."
"No time to move her. Leave her. Two unidentified Vortians in the briefing room. Our saboteurs. Move your c'hurta, lock and load."
Assuring Sula's posture wasn't going to aggravate any wounds she potentially had, he stood up and took off at a quickened trot with his rifle raised, destined for the briefing room. Vult spun around to Hesa.
"Briefing room, double-time. A pair of snooping Vorts need their horns cracked. Your specialty."
"Lovely," she let off as she went down the elevator, flipping the safety off as she descended once the lift arrived. Inside, Vara worked the console, trying to crack the security. Jur rigged a trap on the door, a flashbang grenade to trip when the door opens. Then he backed off, keeping his back turned towards the door knowing what's bound to happen.
"How we looking?"
"I'm trying, I'm trying…" Once she broke in, she was able to gather some general intelligence, dossiers on the team and names of some missions, but none of the details. "Blast, nothing good." A bit more searching indicated a couple prisoners in the brig but nothing of substance. "Just a couple prisoners, unknowns, we may need to split up."
"What's the plan, boss?"
"I'll head for the Commander's quarters, probably our best bet for intel. You investigate the brig. See what's up."
"Got it. We'll go once they spring the trap."
While the two intruders went to work on securing anything of value or useful to the Vortian cause, Vult had switched over communications channels. He sent word to the rest of the team to fall back immediately to the ship. Imperial Internal Affairs was notified of the intrusion and informed. The CCTV images were saved and backed up as a precaution should they attempt to scrub the footage remotely. Had he been watching while doing all of this, he would have seen the waiting trap planted for whoever attempted to breach the room.
Corr, arriving from the cargo hold, ran the length of the corridor towards the briefing room. He rounded the corner, seeing an armored, gun-wielding biped. It was only after he took aim that he seen it was Hesa. A relief.
"Stack up, on me," he nodded towards the door, motioning for her to be his opposite. "Red-1, Purple-1, on-site and ready to breach."
Vult contemplated the action. The pair of Vortians were cornered, trapped, but were insistently digging through any source of intelligence available in the room. If left alone long enough, they'd find something sensitive and of value. That couldn't be allowed. Not on this ship. Not with this team and what they had been meddling in.
"On your word, Red-1." Corr reminded subtly, catching a glimpse of the downed SiR Unit. Fried given its scored exterior and lightless body and eyes.
"Execute. Put them down."
"Copy," Corr responded, ice in his veins as he nodded to Hesa to get ready. Interfacing with the access panel to the door, he input the emergency override, yet to hit "Enter". "Three...two...one…"
He tapped the key, the door whisking open, an-
Everything went white, his antenna ringing. A concussive grenade or some sort of trap triggered. He'd be impressed if he wasn't their opposite in this scenario. He made it through the door despite being blinded, bumping into Hesa in the process. His visor worked overtime, trying to readjust back to the sudden shift in light levels.
Equipment and hardware could be replaced. Lives could not. Blind fire it was.
"Weapons free! Fire! Fire! Fire!"
The Vortians gunned it for the door, Vara managing to literally slide between them before pushing herself back to her feet and gunning it towards the living quarters. She had a rough layout of the ship and knew where to go to poke around for Vult's quarters. Jur tried to make it past, only to find a blinded Hesa aiming her machine gun around the corner and letting loose, hosing the room. He fired back, her weapon ceasing to function after several slugs tore through it from the awkward angle. One of the slugs grazed her weapon and slammed right into her chest, knocking her back.
Then there was the other Irken. Standing up and moving, hands free now, one hit Corr's rifle to knock him off target, it all seemed to move in slow motion as his foot rose and descended for a swift strike. A loud crack went through the air, before he moved on, weapon in hand again, making his way towards the brig, everything picking back up as normal.
Corr felt two things about the time the whine in his antenna ceased and his vision began to clear amidst the plasma fire. His rifle was pushed aside by an unseen force. One of the Vortian saboteurs. His summoned strength to right it and shoot in the direction of the source of the push was to no avail.
The second thing he felt was the Vortian's armored foot crashing into his thigh...and continuing through the extension. Not just a simple kick, but the bone in his upper leg audibly snapped under the pressure. A sickening, wet sound he'd soon never forget as the worst pain he'd ever felt shot through his body from the source, collapsing on the spot with screams of agony.
By then, Vult had secured the bridge and locked it out. The only way they were getting back in was with Vard's help and a lot of time. He went as far to shoot the control panel to the door. No chances. He moved to assist and back up his people. Sprinting for the briefing room, he heard the exchange of gunfire. Irken plasma rifle, automatic fire from Hesa, and Vortian weapons of some make and model. Definitely not the sniper rifle. All of which was overcome by Corr's vocal-cord shredding scream of pain. All the motivation Vult needed to run as fast as his legs would carry him.
As he rounded the opposite corner Corr had come from, he caught a glimpse of one of the Vortians, clad in this strange suit of armor, taking flight elsewhere in the ship. No more meddling. Vult raised his weapon, firing a controlled burst. A trio of plasma bolts struck true, dashing up the target's back. She stumbled, falling forward, but scrambled back to her feet. A moment of disbelief overcame him as he witnessed her take what should have been a fatal shot and shrugged it off like it was nothing.
Corr, rolling around on the ground, clutching his broken leg, shook Vult from his stupor. The Commander cursed under his breath, blaming himself for how things had transpired and went south so quickly. He should have left them locked in the room and waited for the rest of the team to arrive and deal with them accordingly. Stupid, stupid, stupid!
"Corr! Hesa!" He barked, trying to get their attention as he covered them, backing up.
"M-...LEG!" Corr managed, trembling with adrenaline as he looked on in horror at his clearly-broken femur.
Thinking quickly, Vult went for his medikit on his belt. He procured an epipen of some concoction of medication. Making use of his teeth, he pulled the cap off, kneeling beside Corr as he reached back and jabbed the needle into the man's thigh.
"It'll take the edge off, don't move," Vult assured him, looking to Hesa. "Up, up, on your feet, shake it off. I need you."
Hesa coughed and pushed herself up, checking to make sure she wasn't bleeding first. Everything seemed stable. Aside from a brief shock pulling her gloved hand back from the hot slug embedded in her armor, everything else was fine. "That really freaking hurt." Looking over to her machine gun and seeing it shredded, she drew her revolver. "What can I do?"
Vult took stock, locating Corr's rifle. Leaning over, he scooped it up and tossed it to Hesa. "Leave the pistol for him. I put a burst in the back of the girl and she kept running. You're gonna need more than that to do any damage."
She nodded, holding out the revolver for Corr who took it with an affirmative nod. "You got six shots, ready to roll." She then grabbed Corr's rifle and nodded to Vult. "What is this insanity we're dealing with?"
Vara meanwhile, opened random doors, until she found what looked like Vult's quarters and went inside. She went right to work on the console, trying to crack through and get real intelligence to send back home. She'd have something either way once Jur got back to her with what he found in the brig… His jaw dropped behind his mask when he looked inside and saw two of his own, one in part of a military uniform even. "Who the?"
"Who are you?" Kiara spoke, standing up and moving to the bars.
"Tukialstis Jur'Orpos, Vortian Navy."
"Tarxiarchos Kiara'Zharic, VDF," she started then gestured to her dad, "and Doctor Turb'Zharic."
"That's...that's impossible. You two were reported dead when station zero went down."
"Well, surprise."
He started to think of what to do for a moment before his suit glowed red, "I need to get you two out of here."
"Belay that, Chief, there's no time. From even down here we can hear the muffled gunshots. They're probably already alerted to your presence. Get out of here, now."
Jur seemed hesitant, but his suit's muscle fibers lost its tinge. "All right, but we'll keep a note of this, ma'mn. I'll let Podciotakos Vara'Qoris know about this." He backpedaled a few steps before leaving the brig and heading back to link up with his commander.
About that time, the main airlock opened to the ship. Kazak and Volx led the procession of the remainder of the unit through the doors. Outside, Imperial Troopers, Irken Elite, and Internal Affairs had all taken up defensive positions, watching and waiting for any sign of the Vortians reported aboard. The noose was tightening fast.
"Stand down!" Volx barked, lowering her weapon as she saw Vult, Hesa, and an incapacitate Corr." "Where are they, Sir?"
"One ran down the hall, that way," He nodded towards their living quarters. "I lost visual on the second. Sula is down."
"Status?"
"Unconscious."
"...and the Captain?" She hesitantly queried, leaning to see for herself.
"B-...broken leg…" He struggled, the medication numbing as best it could. "...do...do not...engage...in hand-to-hand."
"Understood." The black-eyed Lieutenant nodded, looking to Kazak. "Split up, you clear this deck, I'll go below. Sound good?"
"Belay that," Vult interrupted. "...if IIA or the regulars out there have something more powerful than rifles, bring it. You'll need it."
Kazak turned right to Haxx, "One of the troopers outside had an AT Missile launcher, I think. Go grab it."
Rha was quick to chime in, "I hope it's not one of those you angered earlier."
"Stow it, Corporal," Volx was quick to snap back.
Vara hadn't been able to get much, only what was on the prisoners...and it shocked her as much as it did Jur. Two survivors of their arctic station...and that he...found a way to disable the Irken's connection from the control brains? That's...interesting. She was still trying to unlock the mission files when Jur came over the radio, "Boss, it's not looking good. They got a bigger welcoming party now."
"Shit. Okay, silently move to the hangar. We'll need to set a large fire and move out for primary exfil. Set thermite."
"Copy." With that, she left the terminal, though she wanted to know what more was within...she at least had actionable intelligence to risk calling home...and if their mission should be continued sabotage of Devastis or POW rescue.
A brief moment was taken to procure additional armament. Plasma rifles were exchanged for heavier ordnance. Close-quarters scatter-patterns. AT launchers. Haxx's plasma cannon remained, as did Tuu's rifle, opting to point shoot with it in close-quarters if need be. The team was locked and loaded, ready to bear as they re-entered the vessel with the original plan.
Volx's team swept the lower deck, all clear, nobody around. "Commander, all clear, our uh...packages, are still here."
"Yeah, I saw one of them. Definitely my brother's handiwork," Kiara spoke up.
"Quiet," Volx spoke before getting back on the comms, "These are definitely some special bunch, Commander."
Kazak's team, meanwhile, made it to the personal quarters, "Looks like someone's been rummaging...I don't see anything. We sure they're still here?"
Hesa spoke up over the comms, "If they're anything like us, they might be cloaked."
"Ah, great…" Kazak was regretting his lack of EM vision right about now. "Keep an eye out for any diffraction of light. Optical camouflage isn't perfect."
Meanwhile, the medic had come to in a daze and got up, stumbling out of the hangar. Efforts to communicate with the others were to no avail. The Vortian's fist smashed her radio, though she was able to make her way back to Vult and Corr.
"Secure the hangar." Vult relayed to Volx, waiting for summoned medical personnel to tend to Corr in lieu of Sula. "That's the only other way off this ship and the front is beyond secured. Do NOT let them escape. Shoot to kill."
Sula simply followed the other medics rushing in, thinking something must have been wrong with one of the team...not knowing what she had narrowly escaped. The two Vortians were busy setting thermite and improvised explosive charges in the hangar, uncloaked, to save their energy. Until the doors they had just come in opened, revealing the rest of the team in mixed uniform.
"Waste them!" Kazak yelled out as he fired his sniper rifle using the backup iron sights. Haxx ran forward and knelt down to get a shot off with one of the AT missiles as the Vortians took off for the opposite door of the hangar, detonating the charges and creating a maelstrom of chaos and fire behind them. Kazak himself knocked onto his back, "Fire in the hangar bay!"
Once back in the cargo hold, it was just a matter of cloaking and sneaking out a different route...it would be a tough time, and many instances of nearly getting caught...though their quarry had escaped...for now anyhow.
Those beneath Kazak's command were forced to relent, their base of fire withering to nothing the moment the white-hot explosion ignited, setting aflame the metallic alloys of the deck and bulkheads. The hangar bay may not have been laden with munitions like the armory, but there was ordnance and flammable chemicals present in some quantities.
"Oh no...no, no, no, NO!" Aero cried out, tossing her rifle down. "Forget'em, help me put this out! The whole ship'll blow if we don't!"
Kazak grimaced and slung his rifle, "You heard her! We need to get this under control, now!" As the others set down their weapons and started grabbing equipment to douse the flames, Kazak came over the comms, "Targets are gone, they made an absolute mess of the hangar to cover their escape. Probably out of the ship somehow for all we know." As he finished that message and went to help the others, Sula finally came face to face with Corr on the ground...and a clearly broken femur.
Vult growled with a mixture of frustration and agitation at the sitrep from below. His second-in-command was incapacitated with a broken leg. Hesa took a round to the chest, but it appeared the armored portions of her uniform stopped it from doing any serious damage. Their mobile base of operations had been desecrated, invaded by outsiders. The briefing room was a mess, the bridge inaccessible for the time being, and the hangar was currently on fire and at-risk to setting off flammable elements. Worst of all...their targets got away with likely sensitive information.
"Secure the hangar, get the situation under control," He finally answered back, suppressing his displeasure in his voice as his attention turned to Sula as she tended to Corr's leg. "Medical Officer."
Her face darted up, focusing on Vult.
"Yes, Sir?"
"You green?"
"Just a headache, Commander...Captain Corr takes precedence."
"Soon as he's stabilized, get checked out."
"Yes, Sir."
Once they made it about 10 kilometers away from the site, the two Vortians took a breather to try and figure out their next step...they had intelligence about two of their own held by these strangely uniformed Irken...and who they were. These Shadow Strikers that have recently caused some grief back home...and so the favor was returned in a sense. Vara looked over a map of the area.
"Commander," Jur spoke up, "what are we going to do? We got a General and one of our people's brightest minds held prisoner and we didn't even know about it."
She waited a few moments, finding a potential target, "We need to contact our people without risking our shuttle's location." She started, "Besides, our transmitters aren't powerful enough to reach Vort, but I found an Irken transmitter that is. If we can get in there, get in touch with the commander, and figure out what to do...I don't know if they want us to rescue the prisoners or…"
"I doubt our commander would ask us to kill his own brother and sister."
"Yeah, but there's those higher than him...we need to fill him in. If he wants us to continue sabotage, we'll have no choice. If he wants them back...well, guess we have to go knock on their door again."
"Great…"
"You good?"
"Yes, Commander, still have plenty of ammo."
"Good, let's move."
Kazak came up to find Vult minutes after the fire was contained. Aero was...definitely not pleased. There was a mixture of anger and sadness about her seeing her little domain on the ship torn asunder by the intruders.
"Fire's out in the hangar, no further explosions other than what they set...but we're going to need yard crews to do some repairs." The sniper sat back against a wall nearby, leaving the medics to do their work, "How bad was all this?"
Sula, amidst applying a temporary splint to get Corr to the infirmary to set his leg proper, turned to address Kazak's inquiry. Her headache remained constant, but turning so quickly, she felt dizzy, falling over against the open door to the briefing room. Vult reacted, moving to catch her by the upper arm.
"'M fine...fine…" She assured as Vult aided her to her feet.
"No, you're not. You've likely got a concussion. Infirmary. Now."
"The Captain-" Sula attempted, being cut off.
"We'll take care of it." Vult stated, looking to Haxx. "Make sure she makes it there."
"On it, Sir." The Heavy Weapons Sergeant obeyed, sliding his PRC around behind him to aid his squadmate. "I got you, Sula."
The Commander watched the pair go with a frustrated sigh, glancing to Corr before looking up at Kazak.
"About that bad. Breach of security. Two wounded, one seriously. Extensive damage across the ship. We're grounded until further notice."
"Ooooh...Those ikveda murata detos! When I get my hands on 'em.." Aero's anger-laced tirade carried through the corridor from the hangar bay in disarray.
"...they hosed us, Lieutenant...played us for fools." He grit his teeth, slamming his metal fist into the bulkhead in frustration. "...I laid out the welcome mat for them trying to outsmart them."
Kazak took off his soft cap and shook his head in frustration, "Just who in the blazes are these guys we're after?"
That's when Volx rounded the corner, waiting for the medics to disappear into the infirmary and the door to shut before speaking. "Kiara said she saw one of them. She confirmed for us that they're her brother's troops."
The sniper officer sighed, "So, great, we're dealing with Vortian spec ops on the tier of this unit with some...I only got a glimpse of them in the hangar. I've never seen armor like that before. That's not serial production, can't be. None of the troops or officers I sniped on Vort were wearing anything like that.
"Same with what we ran into. Maybe that sniper that Tuu saw was? I'm not sure."
"Great…"
"So what's their next move?"
Kazak thought for a few moments, "Okay...consider we had this unit back during the first Impending Doom. We're on Vort doing this same stuff and we've just gathered some valuable intelligence...we might need further instruction, and we don't want to risk the location of our headquarters."
Volx saw where he was going with it, "So we hijack one of their transmitters and contact our people through them…"
"Right on the money."
Vult looked to his two standing Lieutenants. Before he could speak, a weary, clearly in pain still Corr leaned to sit up with a wince, still seated on the floor as the assisting medical personnel tasked to the team belonging to Devastis finished where Sula left off.
"Intercepting them...at the transmitter falls on your shoulders, you two." He managed, gritting his teeth as they tightened his splint. "I'm out of commission and the Commander needs to work damage control here, no doubt. Task who you see fit, intercept them, and take them out. They cannot transmit off-world what they found aboard this ship. If you don't stop them, don't bother coming back...we'll all likely be dead before you do."
Kazak sighed, nodding, standing up and putting his hat back on. "Volx, find the nearest transmitter. They know they're compromised now, no time to plan for fakes. They're going straight for it."
"Got it," as she started scanning the maps nearby for transmitters, Kazak got on the comlink to the rest of the team.
"Guys, listen, there's no time to rest. I'm assuming temporary command of the unit," he paused to glance at Volx who gave him a nod, "Get to the armory, throw our armor and kit on over whatever uniform you have now. Be outside in two minutes. We're going to catch these two interlopers. The Commander needs to do damage control here, Captain's out of commission, as is our medic. It's on us."
Volx found one, showing its location to Kazak, "Got it marked, sending it out."
"Good, let's go. Boss," Kazak looked to Vult, "We'll get 'em."
Vult nodded once as Kazak and Volx took charge of the matter.
"Like Corr said...don't bother coming back if you don't. Good hunting."
Hesa got up before coughing a bit, that's when Kazak noticed the slug. "You hurt?"
"Armor took it."
"Might have some internal bleeding. Stay here, get that looked at. We can't afford to deal with casualties."
"Gotta be something I can do."
"There is," Volx spoke up, "Get the footage from Sula's helmet, yours, Captain Corr's, and Commander Vult's, send it to the squad. We can review it en route."
"Can do," Hesa nodded as Kazak and Volx grabbed their gear. It was down to them, Aero, Vard, Tuu, Haxx, Rem, and Rha. As they drove, the squad went over what they had from the four visor cameras. Seeing Vara take a lethal burst of plasma and only stumbling, Sula's lights getting punched out by Jur, the breaking of Corr's leg...probably the best look they have of the armor in close detail as the blinding light of the flashbang was filtered out thanks to Vard's quick fingers.
"You guys see anything we can use against these short of calling in some tanks?" Kazak asked
over the comms as he rode shotgun in one of the vehicles en route to the nearest transmitter.
Aero, still carrying the scatter-pattern blaster instead of her usual plasma rifle, forcibly gave the forend pump a hard rack as she chambered the next power cell with a grimace of effort on her face.
"Yeah, I see a two pair of horns I'm gonna mount in MY hangar when I'm through with 'em." She began, threateningly. "...seriously...its powered armor. Exosuit-level strength at the individual level. A single, thrusting kick snapped the Captain's leg like a twig. That kind of torque doesn't come cheap. Suit's are advanced, probably among the most advanced things in the VDF's arsenal, classified or otherwise. Powered armor requires a power source. Anything with a power source requires electronics to manage and run it…"
"...and anything with electronics can be hacked." Vard piped in, feeling out his squadmate's line of logic as it came to mind, finishing her thought.
"Bingo. Hard part is interfacing with 'em. I doubt they'll stand still long enough for us to plug in and...oh...reverse calibrations and break every bone in their body or...lock the suit up entirely, leaving them trapped and unable to move...y'know, fun stuff like that."
"I'd need more time to come up with something sophisticated. Something we don't have." Vard reasoned reluctantly with a sigh. "...but maybe we can trigger a safety override...make the suit's systems overload and trip a protective fallback...like how your datapad has a gyroscope in it. Senses a fall and will automatically save your data and shut off before it hits the ground to avoid corruption."
"Yeah...fry their systems, overload them, force it into a safety or standby mode." Aero added.
"Exactly!" Vard brightened up, his mind already racing as he looked to Rha, hands insistently motioning. "Uhhh...um...mines...magnetic...proximity mine, give me some. I can take the ordnance out, reprogram them- oh, and your EMP grenades. I'll put the EM charge in the mine, program it...and in theory, we'll have one unwilling hard reset should we stick and trigger it."
Aero smirked smugly as they hatched this scheme with a shrug and lifting of her brow.
"What'd I tell you? Big brain on tiny legs."
Kazak nodded, "Rha, hope you loaded up on EMP grenades for the launcher."
"Yes, Lieutenant."
"Excellent. Now, as a failsafe, Rem, Haxx, need you to set up a trap in the room before they get to the transmitter's interface array. Need to set up some highly charged batteries in close proximity to direct their energy into a single target. Tuu and I will overwatch with our sniper rifles. You guys, hand Vard your mines, get them reprogrammed. We're going to give them a surprise they never expected."
Volx was next to chime in, "Not that I should say this...but don't get too close to any of them. Captain may have gotten his leg broken, but right now they'd be likely to break your neck instead."
"No promises, Ma'am." Aero responded as she topped off her weapon with the final power cell in the magazine tube.
"Just...be careful." Vard searched for the words, never sparing her a glance as his goggles zoomed into his work, deftly working as he began gutting mine after mine while his drone assistant began aiding in the creation of a very heavy-handed protocol to override and fry whatever electronics these things would find themselves attached to.
"You know me, Vardy, "careful" is my middle name." She offered facetiously before rising to her full height as the shuttle began to set down on the landing pad.