Macbeth

Abandoned Northern Metals Alloy plant

2:48 AM

"Normal speech"

"Thoughts"

-"Radio/comms"-

The bitter winter air sat still around the refinery complex, small bits of snow drifting and settling down on idle and abandoned structures left behind by the company that once owned them years ago. The refinery had sat like this for over a decade now, lying silent in its place in the valley it had been constructed in before the fuse of the Lylat Wars had even been lit. Being left mostly untouched and forgotten by Venom's occupying army, it had survived in a state of ownership limbo before finally being left to rust by Northern Metals, lacking the funds to refurbish and restart the place.

It was just one of many abandoned industrial ruins Macbeth was home to at this point, really. Realistically, it had no future in the refinery sector anymore, more likely to be bulldozed in the coming years and turned into more condos as the distant twinkling lights of the nearby city center expanded. For now though, it's only visitors were curious urban explorers and vandals.

A set of dim headlights twisted their way up the overgrown access road, beams cutting out as the vehicle approached and stopped at the worn chain link fence that surrounded the complex. One figure stepped out, hefting a small carbine and wearing a thick winter coat, covered by reused and refurbished composite plates taken from a Cornerian-issue set of combat armor.

-"What's it lookin' like down there? You stopped."-

The figure's helmet-mounted radio crackled in his ear, receiving a single tap to the side to turn on the receiver. His helmet had also been taken from a Cornerian set, but was modified with additional armor that covered the entirety of the top of his face and muzzle, only leaving two small lenses to see out of.

"Road's blocked, should've expected it to be all fenced off."

-"So? It all looks chainlink, right? I think the truck can handle that."- The radio replied, the voice on the other end belonging to a female.

"Good point." He replied. "Just a little concerned about noise, that sorta thing."

-"Yeah, and you and your entire squad just drove up in a loud-ass military truck. If our contact or whatever is inside then I'd bet my ass they already know we're here. Taking down the fence won't make much of a difference."-

He sighed, knowing his support was most likely right. Five years of training, and he was already struggling to put it to use in his first real 'mission'. Or, that's what he liked to call it anyways.

"Right, we'll drive through then."

He strolled back to the truck, climbing into the passenger side of the cab and sitting down.

"What's the plan?" His driver inquired, being another canine and dressed in almost the exact same attire. Despite being effectively thrown together, the set of armor the two wore had caught on in their group as a uniform of sorts. It didn't offer much more protection than what the Cornerians wore of course, but it offered them a sense of professionalism that a group like theirs really shouldn't have.

He pointed forward with two fingers at the fence ahead. "Drive over it, it's just some old fence."

"Understood..."

The driver eased onto the accelerator, using the truck's front bumper to simply plow through the fence with little issue, the two in the cab only feeling a slight jolt as the wheels rolled over what was left. He spun the steering wheel, upshifting as the vehicle bounced along the gravel road that surrounded the complex, looking for a place to hide the truck.

"Who you think we're meeting, anyways?" The driver asked, visually scanning the exterior of the plant.

His passenger shrugged, looking out the opposite window. "Dunno. Some sellout Cornerian politician, 'donating' some equipment probably. Don't really care, we're just running protection detail for the Sergeant. Can't be anything we haven't dealt with before."

"Sellout politician? That's redundant with a Cornerian."

"That it is...:"

The driver found himself a spot to park, maneuvering the truck between two massive railcars left behind when the plant was abandoned, both sitting underneath an ore unloading gantry. Each was easily twice the size of the vehicle, as was the norm with trains on Macbeth.

"Alright, get the rest of the squad out of the back, I'll get our drone set up." The driver nodded, opening the door and stepping out onto the gravel. His passenger did the same, grabbing a bulky case from behind his seat before closing the door. Setting it down on the ground and popping open both latches, Noah carefully lifted the box's contents and set it on the ground. It was a small surveillance drone, being made out of plastics and foam, all powered by a chunky battery linked to a motor and propeller. The aircraft wasn't anything special, only good for providing recon via a thermal camera in places their sniper couldn't see.

"Could probably find something like this in a goddamn hobby shop…" Noah thought to himself, assembling the wings to the body and checking the battery, finding its charge adequate for a good hour of flight time. The whole thing felt flimsy in his hands, but at least he wasn't going to be flying it. With any luck the onboard computer could make it circle at a good thousand feet around the complex, and he didn't trust himself with the remote.

"Okay, just throw it right? Can't screw that up."

He stood up, holding the foam aircraft in his right hand, preparing to pitch it like a ball. Taking one last breath, Noah put all his energy behind the toss, wings biting into the air as it left his hand. Propeller kicking in with a whirr, the drone quickly gained altitude, soon leaving him behind visually as the flight computer did it's job.

"Good…"

Placing the case back into the cab, he joined the rest of his unit at the back of the truck. His little fireteam consisted of himself and seven other canines, all looking quite similar in their armor minus their commanding officer. The Sergeant herself opted to not wear a helmet, letting her long, grey hair flow in the breeze under her commander's hat.

"Drone's on it's way up, ma'am." Noah said, grabbing his own blaster rifle from its place on his back.

"Good." She nodded, having already prepared her own weapon. She was another canid like the rest of them, being a dark-furred lupine. She turned to the rest of the squad, some already keeping an eye on the sightlines behind the group. "We're heading into the main foundry, I'm expecting hellish angles inside with the verticality, so. I want private Sanders to stay with the truck and keep an eye on the drone feed. I'll meet with our contact myself and do the talking, so I'll need the six of you to secure whatever room we happen to meet in. Understood?"

A small chorus of "Understood" and "Yes madam" later, and the seven canines were creeping along the gravel, rifle flashlights scanning every direction and door they passed by to provide security on almost every angle a potential target could be. Each beam was set to the lowest setting possible to still be seen, yet be harder to spot at a distance. Noah wasn't expecting to find anyone but the team's contact in the plant, save for maybe a squatter or two.

The squad hugged each wall they could find on their way to the main foundry building, it's two smokestacks being unmissable even in the night sky among the stars.

"Up ahead." The squad's pointman whispered, ponting ahead. His finger aimed directly at a giant pair of doors situated on one end of the main foundry, meant to let railcars full of molten slag to roll in and out of the building. A smaller door, meant for personnel was built into one side of the gate, currently hanging open.

"Looks like we got our entrance. Let's move."

The canine squad broke out of their position, dashing across the open area between their spot and the door, all of them quickly stacking up on their entry point into the building. Giving a hand signal this time to countdown a breach, the Sergeant followed right behind the squad's lead, keeping her own rifle trained forwards through the door.

Just as she had expected, the foundry floor was a massive interior. The whole place held a wet, rusty smell from years of disuse, concrete floor cracked and metal pillars dented and corroded. A network of overhead catwalks and suspended gantry rails hung above, all meant to carry large buckets of molten material around to the building's furnaces.

Pressing forwards, the squad broke up into two groups to cover each side of the long interior, flashlights still panning everywhere over the old machinery and equipment. Anyone inside would've surely known they were all there by now.

"Hate this place…" Noah groaned to himself, just waiting for something terrible to happen. The whole building felt like to him it could be used for a C-list horror holofilm, but actually being here made all the difference. Stepping around a giant slag railcar parked in the center of the room, he spotted a small light shining ahead. Signaling his group to halt with a closed fist, he peered down his rifle's low-power scope at the source.

"Yeah, that's the spot."

The light was coming from a small pair of work lights set up in the center of the floor, long cable running out of view as it's only power source. It was only visible now that he was around the railcar; likey intentional. The cone of harsh yellow light it shone was set on another object, looking like a large crate from his position. He noticed the sergeant give a hand signal in the dim light, ordering for both teams to keep moving up after noticing her light herself. It wasn't long before the object in question was clearly visible, being a large, armored case roughly as tall as Noah's waist.

"Secure the area." The Sergeant whispered, the squad immediately knowing what to do. Fanning out and taking up defensive positions around the crate in question, Noah found himself using a large metal slab as cover, giving him something thick to hide behind should a blaster shot come from the approach they had just used. It was likely a hardened brick of alloy left behind on the foundry floor, being as wide as he was tall.

Approaching the target object, the Sergeant lowered her rifle and looked it over. Noah hid a glance back, watching her do so. It wasn't like any sort of case he'd seen before; being shaped like a flattened hexagonal cylinder, with what he assumed was a tubular impact frame around the corners. The whole thing was colored a dark grey, only marked with a small symbol he also didn't recognize embossed into a flat edge on the box, looking like a stylized canine head, surrounded by another hexagon.

"Feels off…" Noah thought to himself, watching his superior officer look around for whoever she was supposed to meet.

"Typical." He scoffed, looking at the crate again. "Guess we'll never know-"

"Took you all long enough."

Noah jumped, swinging his rifle at the source of the voice, alongside almost everyone else in the squad. His light found the presumed owner of the sound, shining on their legs first before panning upwards. A large figure stood there, simply leaning against a structural beam, covered head to toe in a set of powered armor Noah had never seen before. They took their weight off the beam, strolling forwards without a care in the world about the seven rifles now trained on its body.

"Not a step closer!" The Sergeant beckoned, taking a step back herself as the armored figure stepped into the light, standing a good two heads taller than her. The armor they wore suggested it was another canine; judging by the tall ears and muzzle on the helmet, alongside the long covered tail Noah quickly figured, finding himself staring at the two opaque lenses on it's helmet.

It chuckled in response, a slow voice synthesized into a deep, vocoded tone by the helmet. "Or what, Sergeant?"

She lowered her rifle, slowly, still keeping her distance. "Oh…" The tone she used almost sounded disappointed, perhaps embarrassed with herself not realizing sooner. "You really had to make an entrance like that? Almost shot you."

The figure shrugged, beginning to slowly circle the crate. "Entrance? I'm the one who stood in place, you've made quite a lot of noise barging in here, yourself."

She wanted to growl back, but held off her emotion for the time being. "...Whatever. I'm not here to just chat." She tapped the side of the crate with her boot. "I presume this is what we've come here for?"

The armored figure barely nodded, Noah just now noticing the massive rifle mounted to an attachment rail on it's back. "Indeed."

"...What exactly am I looking at, here?"

The giant stopped, turning his head to look directly at her. Noah presumed there was somebody under all that armor, anyway. "Type 84-B Guided Surface to air munition system." He read off calmly, as if he had the manual with him. "In other words, it's comparable to your own missile systems, if… more advanced. The fired projectile is guided by a disposable AI, no conventional countermeasure can stop it, once fired."

She raised an eyebrow, looking down at the crate again. "What's the payload on these things? We're aiming to bring down Cornerian military transports coming in from orbit. Usual MANPADS won't fly far or hit hard enough to ground one."

"The compound used is… classified, of course. But it'll permanently ground anything below what you'd consider capital-class. I wouldn't handle the warheads too roughly of course, were I you. They can be very… volatile, if used improperly."

"So, we point this at whatever target we need, and this thing will do the rest?"

"More or less." He shrugged again. "The weapon does not rely on a usual target lock. Whatever you fire at will have no warning of what is coming, until it is too late, of course."

Noah could've sworn he heard a sense of pride in the thing's voice, probably fully aware of whatever the hell was in the box could do.

"I would be mindful of your targets, though. Once you bring down a sizable military asset, I would fully expect the Cornerians to turn up the heat, so-to-speak. Once they know you have this amount of firepower on-hand they'll be forced to treat you as the… questionable rebel movement you are.

The sergeant narrowed her eyes, fully believing her cause was just. She was brought up by the movement as a pup, and having their contact already questioning it didn't sit right. He had a rather valid point though; the Cornerians hadn't taken them seriously as of yet. Their little resistance had been treated as little more than a thorn; something they'd quash only eventually but were more than willing to wait on for now.

"...Anything else I should know?"

He nodded, stopping his pacing on the concrete. "...My organization had been keeping a rather close eye on your little movement for months. It is only recently that my superiors have decided you are worth supplying at all. We don't… 'donate' equipment like this often, and despite handing this off to you, we will not be losing it."

"Meaning?"

"Simple; try and sell off, give away, or lose the launcher, the warheads, or anything we may supply you in the future, and we will know.

"What happens then?" The wolf asked, knowing full well her movement's ranks weren't all what she would call 'trustworthy'. She had heard of equipment being stolen before by their own troops; they weren't all committed to the cause as much as she was.

"Only thing I can say is to expect consequences. Consequences you wouldn't want to be around for."

She knew he wouldn't go into detail not because he couldn't, but specifying what would happen might allow someone to prepare for it.

"...Understood. Guess we'll be taking it, then?"

"Correct. It's yours to keep until further notice."

"...Will I see you again?"

"Depends. If your group gets wiped out in a few weeks of the Cornerians taking you seriously, we'll go looking for more rebels to support. If you survive, you can look forward to receiving... additional equipment."

She called out to her men again for the first time in a few minutes, ordering four of them to move the crate, with the rest providing security. She had one more question before leaving, though.

"You keep mentioning equipment, but we're going to need more willing personnel if we have any hope of getting a foothold, you probably know that already." She received another nod, confirming her suspicion. "Will you be able to supply anyone willing to help? All of our guns are going to be useless without someone to fire them."

Her benefactor seemed to pause for a moment, thinking perhaps.

"Depends. Not for me to decide, though."

"You don't support our cause enough to actually care?"

"We care enough to lend you this weapon. That should mean something to you."

"Not enough…" She wanted to blurt out, only holding herself back at the last moment before she could start yapping. "...Fair enough. We'll be on our way then, suppose I should thank you, though."

He waved a hand. "Don't thank me yet. You still haven't proven anything to us."

"Right…"

Noah was one of the four soldiers ordered to carry the crate outside, grabbing one corner and lifting it in rough unison with the three assigned to help him.

"Thing's pretty damn light." One trooper behind him commented, them all finding it didn't weigh as much as it suggested.

"The hell you complainin' about? Makes our job easier!"

"Yeah, but what-"

"Shut up." The wolf walked past, tempted to kick the soldier in the shin as she took point with her raised rifle. "We're heading back to the truck, keep your goddamn mouths shut."

The squad fell silent, hauling the box back across the foundry floor and through the railway gate. She stole one last look at the armor figure before walking out of sight, finding him staring back, arms crossed. She couldn't help but stare back for a second as her squad walked past, before turning her attention back to the matter at hand.

"Creep…"

The walk back to the truck was uneventful, it still being left where Noah had parked it, sitting on the gravel. "Mount up, we're getting out of here." Commanded the wolf, walking around to the cab where she expected the private she told to stay behind to be.

"Guessing radio silence from you-"

Moving into view of the cab, she found the compartment void of anybody, with the passenger door hanging halfway open. There was no sign of him anywhere; if he was sitting in the back she would've heard something. She spotted the drone remote sitting on the floor, laying on it's side with the video feed still running.

"Shit…"

Her mind raced with the possibilities about where he had gone. Did he desert? Was this all a trap, and was her head literally in a crosshair from a hilltop somewhere? Or did he simply run off to relieve himself? She radioed in her support; their own sniper that had been sitting on a nearby hill in view of the complex.

"Stella? You've been watching the truck? Did you see private Sanders run off?"

It took a few seconds for her to reply, but the Sergeant became more panicked as time dragged on.

-"No, can't see the truck between the trains where you parked it, been watching you and the squad moving anyways."-

"You've got thermals on that rifle, is there anything in the complex with us?"

-"Negative, nothing I've seen."-

"Good, maybe he's just on a goddamn walk then… We're on our way out though, I suggest you start moving to our rendezvous point for a pickup."

-"Roger that, packing up the rifle. I'll be at the road in about-HRKKKKK"-

The line went dead, the Sergeant hearing the sniper's radio clatter to the rocky ground. Color draining from her face, she dove for the driver's seat.

"IT'S A GODDAMN TRAP!" She screamed behind her, frantically reaching around for the keys left on the dashboard. "LOAD UP NOW!"

Throwing the truck into reverse, she only gave the rest of the soldiers behind her a few extra seconds to climb in the back, thankfully having just loaded the crate. Noah grasped for a handrail, boots dragging in the gravel for a moment as the truck's engine roared. Wheels spinning across the rock, she pulled out of the hiding spot, flooring the accelerator. Picking up speed and plowing through another length of fence, she found the service road, slowing down for the left turn before accelerating again.

"Shit… Shit…" Noah swore through his teeth, poking his rifle through the canvas cover, watching the dark road behind them as the truck twisted and turned down the abandoned path. Nothing was chasing them or shooting at them yet though, leaving Noah and his squadmates with very little idea as to what was going on.

Reaching the small, two-lane country road, the sergeant made another left turn, tires skidding on the pavement as the suspension bounced over the height difference. She glared into the rearview mirror, peering into the darkness behind their vehicle as it sped along the paved road, now following alongside a small river off the right bank. Knowing the guardrail would buckle under the truck's weight should she lose control, the sergeant eased off the gas, bringing the truck under the speed limit. Nothing was chasing them yet, for some reason she couldn't figure out. The Cornerians were not known for ambush tactics as far as she was aware, but something felt off as she kept the truck moving, downshifting again.

Noah let himself relax ever so slightly, still keeping an eye out the back but having lowered his rifle. He took a deep breath in, trying to calm himself down after such a frantic, if ultimately uneventful moment.

"What the hell's going on?" The soldier across the truck bed asked, keeping his own shotgun poking out the back. "Pretty shitty ambush if you-"

The entire truck rattled beneath him, seeing the bed's canvas cover brighten up with the harsh beam of a spotlight, hearing the deafening roar of an aircraft turbofan flying directly overhead. He spotted the tail of whatever encroaching aircraft soar over the truck, banking upwards and out of sight.

"You just had to say something, didn't you!" Noah screamed, recognizing the side profile of a Cornerian gunship loop around for another pass on the truck. It could've easily obliterated the truck, the road, and the hillside in a single pass, but whoever was behind the controls seemed to decide to strafe from the rear instead.

"Shit…"

He spotted the heavy blaster cannon mounted under the gunship's nose swivel, aligning itself with the truck as the craft got closer, drifting itself around to try and block the road ahead. The Sergeant was forced to slam on the brakes, wheels skidding dangerously close to the edge of the road embankment to avoid ramming the nose of the craft, now hovering above the road and placing it's spotlights directly upon the comparatively puny transport. It's fitted loudspeaker system started blaring, it's screams sharp and ear-piercing.

"BY DIRECT ORDER OF GENERAL CORNELIUS PEPPER..."

Noah knew what he had to do now, it was clear. Shoving aside another trooper, he reached for the latches on the crate, pulling them down and outwards. Both disconnected with a barely-audible electronic whine, freeing the lid. His face was plastered in panic, knowing very well what would happen should he not hurry.

"...YOU HAVE ALL BEEN ACCUSED…"

He reached for the lid, placing his gloved fingers under it and lifting to reveal whatever it was that was inside. He didn't have much time at all to look it over, but the presence of a large pistol grip on the underside of the launcher's tube instantly caught his eye. He had no idea it was even shoulder-fired, but it was a gamble he needed to take, and now.

"...OF CONSPIRING AND PLOTTING AGAINST CORNERIA!"

Hauling the large tube onto his shoulder, the launcher quickly became apparent it wasn't exactly designed for him; both grips were too large to comfortably hold, and the massive sight and targeting computer attached to the side was bigger than his head was wide. "What the hell…" The launch tube was long and hexagonal, topped by a massive magazine behind the optic. "This thing's huge…"

"YOU ARE ALL UNDER ARREST, ANY ATTEMPT…"

Noah stepped out of the truck, setting his boots on the pavement. "Right, showtime." Poking the launcher around the back of the truck, he raised the tube into what he assumed to be a firing position, finally noticing the scope was completely opaque as he went to look through it. "Ohhh this ain't good…"

He went to pull the trigger regardless, hoping the thing would just work by itself.

"...ANY ATTEMPT AT RESISTING WILL RESULT IN YOUR-"

Click

"Awwwww hell."

The gunship pilot spotted Noah and his launcher, pointing the turret and spinning up the barrels within seconds, ending any hope on his end of resolving the situation 'peacefully'.

"Get the hell back on!" His commanding officer shrieked, Noah noticing and sprawling to get onto the truck bed again. She floored the accelerator, shifting into reverse as fast as the gear allowed. The cannon fire came next, a torrent of ruby-red blaster bolts leaped from the cannon's muzzle, spraying the road down just mere feet ahead of the truck's bumper. She spun the wheel, throwing the front wheels into a skid before gunning the engine again, the truck having turned around with her little maneuver.

The wheels spun, catching traction on the snowy asphalt as it sped off. Giving chase, the gunship sent another burst of blaster fire downrange at their vehicle, clipping the side of the canvas as the sergeant swerved to avoid the majority of the barrage from plowing into her squad.

Noah fiddled with his weapon, looking for any sort of switch of button he could find to turn the damn thing on.

"Thing's a freakin' dud man! Probably made of goddamn plastic or something!" One of his squadmates called out, holding onto the bench seat as the truck swerved around a corner, a rocket from the gunship narrowly missing to the point they could feel the heat burning off it's thruster as it plunged into the icy river.

"Shut the hell up…" Noah shot back, voice laced with quiet anger while reaching for the magazine. He found a small latch, and was able to yank the large box from the weapon, finding it void of any munitions.

"One of you idle morons look in the crate, ammo might be inside!" He wasn't outranking anyone on the truck to give out his own orders, but the current situation didn't call for him to be. Another trooper got off the bench, digging around the box for anything else inside.

"Here!" He yelled, holding up a small rocket with both hands. It was a chunky missile, fold-out fins and a thruster in the back, topped with a small domed steering optic on the front. It didn't look like anything big enough that would take out a freighter, but he didn't have much time to think about it. The writing on the side wasn't in any language he'd seen, but it only took him a few seconds to slide the munition into the magazine, seating it back into the launcher's receiver.

The truck swerved again, dodging another volley of cannon fire from the gunship as the road made a turn, throwing Noah to the bed. He lost his grip on the launcher, it's long tube rattling around and threatening to fly out the back, only being caught by another trooper's boot.

"QUIT MAKING THIS HARD ON YOURSELVES!" The gunship's pilot screamed, firing off a pair of rockets, one slamming into the ground behind the vehicle, the other barreling into the exposed rock face the road was cut through. Shards of stone and debris peppered what was left of the canvas covering, shattering the passenger window in the cab.

Noah grabbed the launcher from his fellow's hands, hauling it up onto his shoulder again. He could feel something in the weapon vibrate through his clothing, the optic and targeting computer now giving off a small cyan glow from the screen. "Okay, this thing might be real after all…" The monitor's readout was still covered in text in the same unrecognizable language, but it was no longer opaque, giving a strange thermal overlay as he looked down the scope.

"Hold on, we're going over a bridge!" The sergeant yelled from the cab, Noah turning around and spotting it further down the river; a small truss bridge, spanning both banks. He knew the gunship spotted it too, evidenced by the aircraft accelerating and flying overhead again. Noah felt the vehicle jolt again, his driver accelerating again in order to reach the bridge faster. Forced to do another pass by the river canyon narrowing, it gained altitude and began another lazy turnaround, giving the Sergeant critical time to slow for the sharp turn leading onto the structure before gunning the engine again.

"Get down!" She yelled, spotting the gunship let loose with a storm of unguided rockets in the bridge's general direction. Each munition screamed as they blazed by the truck, some passing between the bridge's supports or soaring overhead, most missing the structure thanks to their unguided nature. All it would take was one, though.

Said rocket plowed into an overhead beam with little warning, high explosive content creating a rippling blast wave over the group's vehicle, punting it into the guardrail with sheer concisivce shock. Noah's ears rang as the rough shockwave rolled over the vehicle, getting a sharp yelp of pain from everyone in the truck, still holding its course even as the bridge began to buckle under its own weight. He felt the entire vehicle tilt sideways, the bridge's road deck beginning to lean and roll over, hearing the wheels squealing in desperation as they slid over into the other guardrail. The impact tossed one of the squad's troopers over the edge, the poor dog being thrown out of view and off what was left of the bridge.

"Shit!" Noah cried out, watching his friend disappear in a matter of seconds. More beams of rapid red death cut through the crumbling steel, the sound of snapping and collapsing metal drowning out the shrill report of the gunship's cannon laying down Cornerian law.

Downshifting gears, the sergeant screamed as the truck's angle slowly increased, front wheels finally finding traction on the bridge embankment and biting into the asphalt. The engine roared in protest, white smoke billowing from the hood as the coolant boiled off. What was left of the bridge finally gave way as the back four wheels finally popped up, rearmost tires catching nothing but air as the entire structure sank into the river behind them. She gunned the accelerator again now they were back on solid land, yelling back to whoever had the launcher.

"It's now or never you assholes!"

Noah picked himself off the bed, grabbing the launcher from the floor and pointing it upwards. The canvas had been torn away by the blast, giving him a clear view of the hovering gunship in the weapon's strange optic. Screen flashing and placing a box over the offending craft, Noah held his breath, pulling the trigger again.

"Please work…"

Answering his call, the warhead lept from the muzzle, sailing a few meters unpowered before its engine ignited. A smaller thruster behind the nose instantly orientated itself to the gunship mid-flight, closing the distance within seconds. Having little time to react, the pilot only managed to get a few flares off before the warhead violently slammed into the hull, burying itself halfway in the craft's underbelly armor. Noah watched as the muntion sat there, stuck in the gunship's fuselage without doing much of anything.

"Goddamnit." He mumbled, letting the launcher go limp in his arms. Everyone left in the bed of the truck couldn't help but watch too, seeing the gunship practically undamaged by the shot. Most likely confused himself, the pilot let his craft hover, probably checking his own systems for internal damage and letting the truck crawl on farther down the road; not like it could run or anything.

"Forget the truck, just scatter!" One soldier piped up, slinging his weapon over his back and starting to hop off the side.

"Hold on, hold on!"

"No, I'm done with this shit! He can't pick us all off in the woods!"

"What about the crate?"

"Who-"

"Wait, something's going on." Another trooper interrupted, pointing to the impact on the belly. "There's… There's something spreading on the hull!"

Noah looked up again, still holding onto the launcher. It was too far away to make out in the dark, but the gunship's underbelly lights seemed to illuminate a dark substance, slowly spreading out from the point of impact.

"The hell… What-what is that?"

Whatever it was, the pilot didn't seem to have any indication of what was going on, spinning around with the thrusters and resuming his pursuit of the battered truck.

"LOOKS LIKE YOUR LITTLE MISSILE'S A DUD!" He called out, putting another burst of blaster fire downrange, catching the passenger side of the cab in a shower of sparks and burnt metal. The truck threw itself into another corner, heading uphill into a thicker region of the forest as the road narrowed, tall oak trees flanking each side of the pavement in a wooden canyon.

"Can't take much more of this…" Noah mumbled to himself, grabbing another warhead from the hands of another trooper and feeding it into the magazine. He hoped to fill it this time, but they'd only been supplied a total of eight judging by the slots in the box for each one.

Firing another rocket, the gunship pulled away from the road, now being unable to hover so close to the truck with the trees without risking clipping a wing. The munition missed again, impacting a cluster of trees and going up in a fireball and shower of burning ash. Flying overhead for another narrow pass, the craft lined up its nose on the roadway, Noah knowing there was no way he'd miss this time.

"JUST DIE ALREADY!" The pilot screamed, warming up the cannon for what he hoped to be his final gun run. Noah could spot the red glow as the barrels warmed up, preparing for another barrage. He closed his eyes, tensing up knowing full well what was coming. The seconds hung in the air, ticking by as nothing came. The distinct whirr of the cannon letting loose was absent, only the sound of the truck's struggling engine and the gunship's thrusters could be heard.

"The hell…"

Noah dared to open his eyes, seeing the ship slowly float backwards to keep up with the vehicle. The weapon lacked its red glow from charge-up sequence though, and far as Noah could see there was almost something flowing around the underside of the craft, slowly covering up running lights and armor plating as it crawled along the hull.

"WHAT?" Shrieked the pilot, having left his sound system on and confused as to why his weapon wasn't firing.

"Something's covering the hull!" One of the soldiers in the truck bed yelled, pointing to the substance as it flowed around the blaster cannon, enveloping it in a matter of seconds. It grew around the cockpit next.

"THE HELL IS THIS? IT'S EATING THE GLAS- OH SHITSHITSHIT-"

The intercom went dead, followed by the harsh echo of the cockpit canopy utterly shattering as the substance spread around to cover the entire front of the aircraft. Its running lights flickered in a spasm, left engine coughing up smoke as it too was taken over, sending the craft into a slow flat spin over the trees. Noah watched in a mixture of horror and awe, watching the gunship spiral out of control before disappearing over the trees, hearing the last cries from the engines before it went completely out of view, slamming into the forest canopy with a snapping of tree trunks and metal. A shockwave rushed over the landscape soon after, fuel and unfired munitions cooking off and detonating in a brilliant fireball.

Noah slumped down on the bench, letting out a long breath through his helmet. Despite no longer being in immediate danger, the benefactor's words still echoed in his mind, now that the gunship was down.

"I would be mindful of your targets, though. Once you bring down a sizable military asset, I would fully expect the Cornerians to turn up the heat, so-to-speak..."

They all knew he was right, and he only expected things to get worse now that they had gone and done it, spending their opportunity this soon. Though, how long would it be until they used it if they hadn't needed to now? Weeks? Months? Sure, it would've given them more time to prepare for more operations, but how much would that really matter? His group hadn't been willing to face the Cornerians head-on, but Noah worried that day would be coming even sooner with what they had just done.

He let himself relax as the truck drove onwards, a few of the other troopers in the back doing much of the same. They still weren't safe yet, but with any luck-

The roar of a train horn shoved aside any other thoughts Noah could have, the glowing headlights of the locomotive bathing the vehicle in blinding light as it passed over a level crossing. The front of the train violently clipped the back of the truck and puntied it aside like a toy, sending their vehicle into a rapid flat spin across the pavement and throwing out its passengers and cargo in the process. Noah found himself catapulted across the ground, landing on his arm and rolling into a tree, the final impact knocking whatever consciousness he had left at that point out of him. The last thing he saw being the passing freight train flying by before he slipped under, vision fading as the launcher landed in the dirt next to him.

"I'll admit; they're more determined than I had expected."

-"You knew they were going to be intercepted, didn't you?"-

"Perhaps. Wanted to see what they would do, really."

The armored figure watched the distant fireball poke over the hilltops, having an excellent view of the area from his spot atop the factory's smokestack. He sat idle, leaning against the brickwork and standing on the catwalk, fiddling with his sidearm.

-"Were you ever spotted? You know the MO on leading witnesses."-

"Negative."

-"Operation a success, then?"-

"Technically, yes."

He watched the satellite feed, provided by his helmet's heads-up display panning around the crash site, seeing the truck turned on its side and headlights still illuminating the passing train in infrared. The rebels had lost five members in less than 20 minutes, if he counted the sniper and the trooper the Cornerians nabbed earlier.

-"Thoughts? What you think they'll do now?"-

"Depends. Cornerians will be here soon to recover their gunship, not to mention having a lead. I'll give them a moderate chance of running off without getting captured, I suppose, provided they're in any shape to walk."

-"Understood. We'll keep monitoring their progress if they decide to move. Our only concern now is the gunship; Cornerians are going to know these rebels are packing exotic firepower now. You know who they'll turn to for help. Might be problematic, we know they don't screw around and they're the only projected threat to our operations."-

"Understood. Are we known to them, yet? The quicker we act now the more we'll get done. We no longer have the luxury of taking our time."

-"...We're still working on that. Getting a foothold on Corneria has proven difficult, most of the government seems to be connected to them, and it's making the decision of moving ahead with the next stage of the operation tricky."-

"The next stage is critical, you know. Makes my job easier…"

-"Believe me, we all know. We're sending in your pickup soon, got more for you to do planetside anyways.'-

"Fun."