We made up a party of five, including myself.
Apart from me and Francis, there was René Diaz, Nuri Akhmetov, and Sofia Torres. Our goal was simple enough on holo-screen: we rob a Combine train passing through a junction and make off with the desired goods. Our main opposition would be Combine soldiers patrolling the junction, and going from experience―given a heist I partook in that felt especially similar to this not too long ago―I had my concerns over our chances of pulling this off without detection. My new allies assured me that they performed missions like this all the time for their militia, but were wise enough to know that any new heist could be the one to do them in, so we were not going in without treading lightly.
Our destination was a little village out in the countryside several miles away from the Limpiadores' headquarters. It had a small section of railway lines that ran through it, which was where Francis and his gang planned to enact their train robbery. Rather than travelling there on foot, we went there by van―the same one they had ridden into Red Bay in hopes of picking me up. René was the one driving up front with Francis riding in the passenger side next to him, putting me in the open backend alongside Sofia and Nuri.
I thought I would have grown sick of it eventually, but I found myself continually amused by humans' utter fascination with me. Sofia and Nuri, though polite to me in all ways that mattered, had a difficult time keeping their eyes off of me. We all sat in relative silence as we jostled around with the motion of our vehicle as it traversed uneven terrain; the two of them kept easy hands on their weapons while I fondled the end of my tail while resting it on my lap.
It would be incorrect of me to say that they weren't a little intimidated by me; I had put on quite a fearsome display at their headquarters just weeks ago. While Francis had gotten to know me having done a few reconnaissance missions together in the outlands, these two had just met me and were unsure of how to engage with me. The best I could do was to smile and be patient.
"You know, you can ask me any questions you'd like. I'm assuming that the two of you have plenty," I invited. It was quite true; their thoughts buzzed with the ubiquitous queries that I expected all humans to be internally equipped with beforehand. Sofia, a woman in her early thirties with her brown hair tied back into a tail, looked like she would muster the courage to go first, but Nuri beat her to it.
"Does all that fur make you itch a lot?" he asked. Nuri looked to be around Sofia's age; he had a stubbled chin, short black hair and pale skin, and sounded rather softspoken, but that may have been caused by his first interaction with a vixen from another universe. Sofia glared at him, believing that he said something insulting to me, but he asked a good question for a being who lacked fur all around their body.
"Sometimes," I answered. "It all depends on how frequently you groom yourself. Although, I have gotten a few skin rashes in the past. Those are not any more bearable with fur."
Nuri pondered this information and nodded. "That makes sense," he mused.
I turned to Sofia. "Anything I can answer?"
Sofia knit her brow before shaking her head. "No," she said straightforwardly. "You must get asked too many questions already. I accept what I see. I don't question what I see anymore."
She spoke with a heavy accent of some kind and seemed intent on remaining quiet, even though she had her own slew of questions. I accepted her unaired desire and laid off, though I took a close note of her body language: sitting upright and looking down at her shoes. I took her insistence on remaining quiet primarily as a result of her fretting over the dangers of this mission. Even Nuri, who seemed the most approachable of the two, had been bouncing his leg incessantly, trying to mitigate his mutual nervousness.
The greatest key difference between those of the Limpiadores and the residents of Red Bay was that the seaside denizens that I knew were primarily passive people who only generally wished to live simple lives. While having plenty of people who would take up arms should the uprising commence, it was not their forte in the same way that it was for the Limpiadores. I cared little for their high chief, Gus, but inspiring as many militant followers as he did was nothing to overlook.
Sofia and Nuri had warrior spirits in them all the same. Like many who joined Gus's militia, they believed that the best way to topple their alien malefactors and free their world was to attack them head-on. To bring the fight to them.
The familiar-looking armoured clothing they both were currently wearing showed that they had fought and killed Combine soldiers before, but that still made them no less afraid of them. Their bravery was to be admired, and they were owed my undying thanks for volunteering to come along on this venture for my sake. Like all before who chose to leap into danger alongside me, I was determined to not let them down.
"We'll all come back in one piece," I suddenly spoke up, having deduced enough from their subconscious thoughts. Sofia and Nuri looked at me, both wearing slightly startled expressions as I had just read their minds, which was half-true in a technical sense. "As long as you have my back, you can be rest assured that I fully have yours."
René soon found his favourite spot to park upon arriving near our rural destination, which was behind a brick-laid enclosure that housed old diffused generators.
This outing was apparently not their first, as I learned earlier that the Limpiadores frequently scavenged this area for its supply of materials like copper and supplies for mending and welding, but the Combine also had a notable presence here, which they also found to be helpful. Where my militant friends brought me to served a myriad of purposes, being a security checkpoint for passing trains, an annexe for housing construction utilities, and even an armoury.
Many daring scouts infrequently conducted raids on this place with success due to the lack of manual oversight managing this place. This site alone served as one of the biggest pools of weapons and tech gradually amassed by the Limpiadores in recent years, and it was an incredible feat they had gotten away with so much for so long without getting caught. I found it strange that no higher official within the Combine's chain of command seemed to notice shipments occasionally turning up light when transiting through this sector.
It was now nearly two hours past noon, and my allies led me over a hill covered with wavy tall grass as dull as unrefined gold―providing ideal cover to look out at what it was we were heading into. Down the hill were the remains of a rural village nestled inside a small valley with two sets of railway lines running off to the side of it. The Combine sullied much of the original village with their dark metal structures tacked on too much of the native architecture.
All five of us lay on our stomachs as we surveyed the site below, sheltered adequately by the tall wild grass. René had a small transmitter to his ear that allowed him to monitor Combine airways, listening in to hear when the next supply train was coming through while the rest of us reviewed what we saw and what we planned to do.
"It looks mostly unoccupied," I guessed, based on the little telepathic feedback I was receiving from the distant scan I was conducting.
"We can only hope," Francis pondered, looking out at the main railway facility on the edge of the village through a pair of binoculars. The others took turns sharing the binoculars except for me for I could not use them. As it turned out, human eyes were spaced just a little bit closer together than mine. "There's a small barracks down there that house new 'recruits' in the Combine military. The outlands serve as a good place to instil basic training."
"Before they get lobotomised, that is. That's what makes them the ideal soldier," Nuri added after Francis passed him the binoculars. The mind was an untimely precious thing, especially in my case, so hearing passing mention of someone losing something so important to them always made me feel like spiders were crawling under my pelt.
"Then why allow them to have any level of autonomy at the conscript stage?" I wondered, which was more of an internal thought that stole my voice, but I allowed more of it to be spoken. "Why not make them into drones the moment they've been mutilated into soldiers?"
"No one truly knows for certain," Nuri shrugged as he gazed out with the binoculars. "A lot of us have been theorising that maybe a form of consent is required to further up the ranks. We've observed that the conscripts retain much of their cognizance, but are still augmented to such a high degree that they are completely dependent on the Combine's support to properly function. I imagine that is highly taxing to the rookies and opting to get their brains scooped out of it means they can't feel themselves deuterating anymore. That's them wanting the next stage."
"Has any attempt been made to rescue one who has been augmented? Or at least convince them to turn away from their current path?"
"Can't do that for a few reasons," Francis said. "One, they likely won't at that stage; two, we wouldn't be able to maintain their new augmentations; and three, they'd just be turned off at the first sign of disobedience."
"Turned off?" I winced.
"Yup. I've seen it happen myself," Francis said, pity and remorse permeating his distant gaze. "Crossed a rookie in a fight long ago. I was out of rounds and he had me at gunpoint. He hesitated in shooting me point blank when I was unarmed, and in an instant, his legs gave out and fell to the floor. Dead, without a whimper. They must have a remote kill switch of some kind installed in their hearts―or whatever module they put in its place. The poor kid either never got briefed on this, or that pesky moral compass hadn't entirely been eradicated yet. They'd rather have 'em dead than reject what they made them to be."
The unending cruelty of the Combine never failed to appal me.
"Won't even give them a chance to off themselves," Sofia spoke up, deadpanned in her tone as the binoculars were passed to her. "The desire itself is grounds for the off-switch I bet. The Combine want total control; to break down and strip away what makes us what we are. Not even death can come without their permission."
While her straight face may have projected a stoic composure, I felt a crippling sadness in her. That may have been one of the reasons why she wasn't keen on talking. But whenever she did, it meant she couldn't keep it to herself anymore. While shedding tears had lost its purpose over the years to her, her heart would never stop feeling for her fellow humans who became purged with the military machine and were doomed to never escape it.
I had a startling realization just then after these strange deductions crossed my mind, such that I ended up blinking profusely as I had fallen into a brief trance. 'Wait…I…felt what she was feeling?' I thought to myself, which was critically close to becoming a slip of utterance.
"Oh―! Everybody, quiet please," René sputtered frantically, leaning his ear in closer to the earpiece of his radial transceiver. He spoke with a similar accent to Sofia, though René was easily the most excitable of the two. We all watched and waited expectantly as the faint sound of radio chatter could be heard seeping out of the earpiece, with René making exaggerated facial expressions as he deciphered the Combine vernaculars.
My ears swivelled subtly as I tried hard to listen in as much as I could, which made it hurt even more when René exclaimed with anticipation. "Ah! We're in business, amigos! The next train is departing from City Three and will be arriving here in twenty minutes for a routine inspection."
"All I needed to hear," Francis nodded, rising to his feet and slinging his wooden scoped rifle off his shoulder and into both hands. "Let's get moving, people."
I had grown considerably tired of traversing sewers to avoid detection, so I was relieved to hear Francis insisting that surveillance within the greater village itself was essentially non-existent apart from the area around the tracks.
That wasn't to say we weren't careful. We avoided staying out in the open and kept making our way to the station by going through the vacant buildings and houses, and made quick dashes across the street when there was no other way. I anticipated the worst like I had been accustomed to, but Francis and the others were apparently a little less on edge than I was expecting. Plenty cautious with their weapons drawn, but they didn't seem too worried at this very moment.
"Is this an appropriate time to ask a question?" I wondered, keeping my voice lowered and my shotgun close to my breast as we moved through what must have been an old indoor eatery of some kind, with tall rafters and many old wooden tables scattered around in a singling.
"Just as long as it doesn't involve my missing teeth," Francis looked back at me with a coy smile, revealing that he was indeed missing a couple of teeth near the back of his mouth, but one wouldn't really notice unless he pointed it out.
"It doesn't," I reassured, suppressing my own smile. "How many times did you say scouts come to this place for raids?"
"Several times over the last year, at least from what I've seen during our limited tenure," Francis said. "I wouldn't be surprised if the Chief sent more people out to raid this place in the past. No doubt because we've got so much surplus stock at the mine, indirectly making it a practice of some kind."
"I cannot fathom how the Combine have not picked up on this," I said, finally reaching the end of the building before preparing ourselves to leap over to the next one. "They reign over the whole Earth and they cannot be bothered to keep their supply lines supervised? From petty raiders?"
"It's because they don't need to," Nuri said, looking over my shoulder as we scrunched up at the exit while Francis looked around for any street surveillance. "They beat us down so badly during the war that extensive oversight isn't required. You might have noticed by now how automative their infrastructure is, yeah?"
"I have," I confirmed, noticing how AI-driven the Combine were, such as the dispatching system of the Combine Overwatch.
"We never had time to recover; so, it's incredibly hard to shake off what unfeeling oversight they have put on what remains of humanity," Nuri added as we skipped over to the next building individually. "Perhaps they do notice," he continued, "but they don't care because they know in the long run that all troublemakers will eventually die out on their own. It's not like we're able to procreate anymore with that no-good suppression field running. Us ravenous scavengers are not worth the resources to eradicate entirely, and they can easily compensate for what menial things we might take for ourselves. Won't they be in for a nasty surprise once we finally take a stand with their own assets; they're gonna wish they installed a lot more sentry turrets when we do."
I dearly hoped that Nuri was right about that.
"There's always a chance that they did just that before this very outing, my friend," René advised wisely, adjusting the large but empty pack on his back. "Let's not press our luck while within their territory, sí?"
Even though Nuri was behind me, I could feel him tempering his excitement, returning to a more prioritised state. There it was again. Since when did I start feeling emotional ambiences in the same way I sensed one's thoughts?
Not too long after that conversation, we found ourselves near the junction at last.
I had been acting as our party's designated telepath by proxy as we slinked through these abandoned buildings, and I was able to detect little presence by the junction. There didn't appear to be any soldiers patrolling the vicinities that I could detect, which made me hopeful for a discrete and unconfrontational extraction of goods. By the time we had exited a building close to the station, we ran for cover in the tall grass by the tracks to witness a long train rolling into the junction from the east-end side of the line.
It was being pulled by a tall and intimidating razor engine that came to a screeching halt after speeding into the village at a staggered speed, able to cease its momentum within thirty seconds. The three of us watched in mindful silence behind our covers as a small crew of three humans wearing baggy dark green and blue jumpsuits emerged from the cab of the lead engine and descended down a ladder mounted on the side. I was able to sense that they were entirely ungarmented by scanning their subconscious thoughts and even by how they coordinated with each other. They were also wearing respiration masks, almost resembling Civil Protection masks, but they were a little wider around the temples and curvier in design along with pairs of glowing yellow lenses.
I had grown much more concerned about a possible conflict with stationed units because I did not wish to get these poor civilian workers caught in the crossfire. Not again. The disembarking workers appeared to be leaving their locomotive as they made their way to an unseen terminal inside one of the buildings adjacent to the platform, and it was then we made our move to skip across the tracks before the train and run around to the other side and out of sight.
Even though we were concealed by the train of triangular carriages from the main platform, we were left completely exposed to the back, and that made me quite anxious being so vulnerable out in the open. Francis knew this and was admitting that we act quickly and diligently. "That one. It's gotta be that one right there," Francis pointed to the fifth carriage from the engine. "René, do your stuff."
"Righto," René eagerly complied, both so out of excitement and mutual nervousness. Running up alongside the designated carriage, René whipped off his pack and rummaged around it for a few seconds before pulling out a strange device that was fitted with two prongs attached to two malleable cords. He stood up next to a familiar-looking locking mechanism next to the carriage's sliding door―the same variety that would require a finger implant to unlock―and studied it for a thoughtful moment.
"Whew… Aqui va nada…" he muttered under his breath before lodging the two cords directly into the circular port of the lock. He pressed a set of buttons in sequence on his device before the lock on the carriage began to gargle an odd sound before snapping, indicating that it had been disengaged, much to René's elation. "¡Exito!"
With some help from Francis, René reached up and slid the now-unlocked cargo door open just enough to fit us in. "All right, people," Francis announced, in a hushed voice, "we only have several minutes before their lackeys finish their screening report. Let's grab what we can and skedaddle!"
Nuri and I seemed similar in our predispositions to keep the party looked out for, so we were the ones to triple-check to make sure that nothing was watching us conduct this heist. Accepting that all seemed clear, Nuri went up first before courteously helping me up on the narrow running board before stepping inside. Nuri slid the door in, leaving just a crack of sunlight to come in, but little of it turned out to be required for visibility because the cargo hold of this triangular-shaped carriage was illumined by the ambient blue glows of rims around the giant crates stacked in here.
There was only a very narrow passageway from one end of the carriage to the other, making for a rather cramped pace for the five of us, but we were able to make enough space for ourselves. "Fascinating," I said, looking at all of the crates. "What do you suppose is in all of these?"
"Construction equipment," René said helpfully as he began to shuffle forward down the passageway in search of a particular crate. "All trains carry specific airway codes depending on the loads they carry. Lately, a slew of trains carrying heaps of construction equipment have been running past this junction nearly every day for the last couple of weeks. Materials, plating, welding hardware, organic memory banks for terminals―you name it!"
I did my best to ignore the last thing he had said and did my best to shuffle around to make room for the others. "Where do you suppose they're heading off to and in so many numbers?"
"Why, that big depot in the outlands, of course," Nuri said helpfully. "You and that giant old man did a real number on that place; a lot of precious internal systems were destroyed beyond repair. Setting up and installing new ones will certainly take a good long while, essentially building a whole new depot on the inside. No better time to take advantage of all this equipment passing through multiple times a day."
The echoes of the exploits committed by me and Aaron in that depot continued nearly three weeks later. Had it truly been close to a month of being stranded on this planet? So little time felt like it had passed, but the former was quite true. I couldn't know how much more time it would be before my chance to return to Lylat would come upon me, but I had to remain patient and as diligent as I could. The plan could not afford to be rushed.
"So, what do you expect to find in here?" I asked, trying to remain focused on our goal. "What inclines you to believe something in here will help make my ship mobile?"
"All of these trains are heading southwest to repair the depot," René set, shuffling across the carriage and reading the code imprinted on the corners of each crate. "Goes without saying that it's a big and important construction project; requiring the finest of equipment for not only rebuilding but also moving enormous debris. The Combine are rather savvy when it comes to building projects, and they are sure to use the highest quality gadgets when performing them. Just like… Ah―! These!"
René's excitement was viral, as the others who were moving about the carriage instantly turned to him with an enthusiastic gawp. René stood before a crate about the size of our van situated near the far end of the carriage, sprawling his arms like he was trying to hug it. He nodded approvingly at the code on its surface before looking over Sofia's head.
"Señorita Krystal? I believe I may need your assistance over here," René insisted, prompting me to manoeuvre his way while the others tried to give me space.
"What do you need?" I asked, kneeling next to René.
"This box has a special lock; nothing that I have on hand can crack it. How well do you think your magic can fair?"
I studied the massive crate in front of me for a second before rising to a fuller stand. "All right. Please mind any discharge, everyone," I warned, making the others back down to the far end of the carriage with René slinking behind me to join them. Unclipping my staff from my belt, I deployed it to full length, garnering intrigued stares from the others as I pointed its spearhead at the locking mechanism. I could detect that it was a battery-operated lock, so a simple short-circuit was all that was truly needed.
I unleashed a higher amount of voltage into the lock from a power source I siphoned from before joining this caravan, generating a brief but powerful arch that snapped clapped the air and made the room flash, but it was otherwise enough to short out the source powering the lock, resulting in a satisfying disabling sound that could be heard from across the carriage. René could hardly contain himself and began to move down my way again before I confirmed that it was safe to return, though he at least approached with some caution. I closed up by staff again quickly as a precaution.
"Damn, that thing is wicked," he eyed my belt like he had spotted some toffee on the counter. "Where can I get one like that?"
"I hardly even know," I admitted, which was partially true. While my parents may have given me it before sending me away, I was left to ponder on what its original purpose might have been. I apparently was meant to receive it when I was older. Was a tool like this common in Cerinian society? Or was it one of a kind? Perhaps that relied on what my parents were in life, and from the memory I had recovered in the vortessence, some suggestions had them linked to having some kind of high status―or at least associated with those who were.
Before I could spiral into another pondering session regarding a past that I was just now beginning to rediscover, I stayed focused on the mission and watched as René started to push the now-sapped lock to the side of the crate along an incised track, and small jets of mist seeped through the now opened seams as the crate began to unfold onto eight individual panels, almost resembling fingers releasing their joint grip on something.
Rims of blue light along the crate's opened interior base illuminated us as one hundred glass sleeves with metal frames standing upright, containing what appeared to be peculiar-looking mechanical disks that were dull and grey, about the size of a small plate each. I was left rather clueless over what I was looking at, and it didn't seem like the others did either at first. René, however, grinned widely with the utmost delight.
"Ah…there they are," he said, rubbing his hands together greedily.
"What are these?" I wondered as René crawled forward to grab a sleeve, which was long and big enough to be held in two hands.
"Wafting plates," René said, proudly holding his confiscated sleeve of disks packed together like prepackaged biscuits. "These little beauts come in handy when you want to move really heavy things in a jiffy. I knew there had to be a trove of these once supply trains began routing themselves to the depot down the line."
"So those are the gizmos, eh?" Francis noted, leaning over incredulously. "They're smaller than I was expecting."
"Indeed. Small, but numerous," René corrected, tapping his prize. "We'll slap a few dozen of these on the haul of that ship of hers and it'll be up in the air with ease, making the painstaking task of towing the sucker to safety where it can be properly worked on significantly easier―not to mention quicker."
I still wasn't sure how these wafting plates were meant to work, but I was immediately enticed by the concept. I looked at this stockpile of levitation modules with considerable enthusiasm. "Yes. I like this plan," I said, already growing a fondness for these ingenious little appliances.
"Estupendo," René grinned, flattered that I shared his enthusiasm as he turned to the others. "Now then, everyone, open up your packs and start stuffing in as many as you can!"