Sniper
With crossed arms, Jackson loomed over the spotted dog who worked the computers and the array of monitors. The view on one display changed, and he let out a muted growl as he watched Krystal free Ryuga.
"Where's that platoon? They should be there by now."
"Indeed, they move a little slower than expected." The spotted dog's fingers flew over the keyboard, and two other screens started showing CDF units slowly creeping along corridors, while a third screen plotted their location. "Honestly, many soldiers would be a bit hesitant to take on a hero of Lylat, and a very capable one at that."
"Still, they have their orders," Jackson grumbled. "Tell them to hurry up."
"Pardon for saying it, Sir—" The operator paused while sending the squad leaders a message on a separate comms channel. "—but you're not the one facing mind-reading off-worlders."
Right on cue, Krystal used her prosthetic hand to rip apart a lock, while Ryuga used her staff as a tin opener, each of them freeing another Cerinian. Jackson had a hunch he might be facing them soon though, but he wanted an advantage first.
"Release the gas into the HVAC system," he said and the spotted dog promptly entered a command into the computer. Meanwhile, Krystal's communicator projected a hologram. "And get that translator going. They're talking Cerinian."
"—sensed her nearby before they medicated us," said Ryuga.
Krystal seemed to think for a moment. "...Alright then." She turned her nose up as if sniffing the air.
"Oh no," said Kabura.
"What?" Krystal raised an eyebrow and turned towards the cobalt fox.
"It's the psionic-blocking gas." The translator didn't convey it, but Jackson thought he could see a flicker of panic in Ryuga's face. "Your telepathy will be useless."
"And there's a surveillance camera in that corner up there." The short and stocky fox pointed straight towards Jackson. "I've seen it before."
Krystal raised her blaster and the screen went black. The operator promptly switched to the camera in the common room, which went black a few seconds later.
"Observant little foxes," said Jackson as screen after screen went black. "It doesn't matter. I know where they're going. They're looking for Miss Bergman."
The operator keyed some more commands, bringing up camera feeds of yet another corridor as well as one of a small room, the grainy night-vision showing a person sleeping in a bed. Within moments, the fox quartet barged into view.
"Do you know which room she's in?" Krystal asked.
"No, we have to check them all." Ryuga tried two doors on either side of the corridor. "But they're locked."
"Sienna? Miss Bergman? Are you here?" Krystal called out, while Kabura tried another door.
"Notice how they're talking a lot," Jackson mused. "Evidently, the gas is working."
"We're wasting time." Krystal ripped apart another lock and opened the door to an empty cell, while Mitsuru scanned the ceiling.
The commotion seemed to have awoken Sienna, since the large dog crawled out of her bed. "Who's there?"
Ryuga called out and Sienna banged on her door in response, and finally the foxes converged outside the right room. Sienna barely had time to put on a dressing gown, before Ryuga forced the door open using the staff. Krystal raised her blaster again and the display turned to static.
"Dammit!" The spotted dog flicked through cameras as if trying to avoid the synchronised ads during prime time television, but they either showed empty corridors or were completely dead. "Where'd they go?"
"Rewind..." Jackson focussed on the video feed as it flickered by in reverse. "Stop. Now, forward slowly, and pause."
Krystal's motionless figure stood in the corridor outside Kabura's cell, surrounded by the three Cerinian men. Her fingers were suspended in the projection from her communicator.
"Zoom in on that hologram." Jackson squinted at the schematics and the route plotted within it, as the resolution slowly increased, image processing software working its magic.
The spotted dog put a finger on the screen. "That leads to the northern emergency exit."
"Good job." Jackson pressed a command on his communicator. "This is mission control. Send one team to the northern emergency exit, and one to the outpost at the opposite end of the canyon."
Even after receiving an affirmative from both team leaders, he wasn't satisfied. There was a nagging feeling in the back of his mind. The former spy in him said that it seemed too easy, way too easy. He was used to double-crossing and layers of deception. Surely Krystal wouldn't just barge in like this without a plan. Did she have an inside man? But how, when he'd been so careful with background checks, and she'd had too little time to prepare? A thought struck him: had she meant for him to see that hologram?
He walked over to his workstation and pulled up a copy of the station schematics on his own computer. Twisting and turning it while drumming his fingers on the desk, he wondered if the cunning foxes were up to another trick. His gaze fell on a dashed outline. There was an abandoned service tunnel from the construction of the lower levels, but it had been blocked off years ago, deemed unstable. Its exit was near a relatively flat section of the canon floor.
A ship could land there, he concluded, and transferred the blueprint to his own communicator. Unlocking a drawer with his fingerprint, he pulled out a small blaster and checked the charge. He put it in his shoulder holster and headed for the door. He contemplated whether to divert his limited forces there, but decided he could take care of it by himself; all he needed to do was to hold up the foxes until reinforcements arrived, on the odd chance that they went there in the first place.
The temperature increased as he left the air-conditioned offices of SIRIUS mission control, located on the station's lowest level. Beneath him were just ducts leading superheated water from the magma chambers deep below to the geothermal generators. While the upper levels were illuminated by lights and control panels, the tunnel he followed was dark, filled with the faint glow from red emergency lighting and steam hissing out of cracks in the rock walls.
A small buggy was parked next to a storage room carved out of the rock, the kind of vehicle used by service technicians when they needed to get around quickly. He jumped in and set off, driving at its maximum speed while checking the schematics again. The passage he was in rose gently towards the surface as it circled the station's core, intersecting with the old service tunnel some distance up ahead. A few times he passed shafts filled with valves and pipes, the water within making a rumbling noise as it coursed towards the power turbines.
He slowed down near the old service tunnel and stopped just as the sealed exit doors came into view. Another tunnel led upwards from a level below, intersecting the circular tunnel and opening up into a small chamber, illuminated only by a single red emergency light in the ceiling. Crouching down, he hid in the shadows behind the buggy and checked his weapon. With his thumb resting on a switch, he weighed his options.
He had spent a career in the shadows, relentlessly gathering intelligence and fighting the enemies of Lylat: Andross and his Venomian empire, the Aparoids, and the Anglars. They all had one thing in common: a clear goal, whether it was to conquer Lylat or assimilate all life. They could be analysed and from that defence strategies devised. The Cerinians were worse; they were an unknown entity. How far did their powers go? How many more were there like Kamuy and her Protectors? Would they return, or rather, when? Krystal was an enigma as well, but clearly mentally unstable, telling from her alter ego Kursed.
His hand trembled ever so slightly. It was a sign of fear, a weakness that he could not show. She would use that to her advantage. When weighing the life of one against the safety of many, the choice was always an easy one. There was no room for error, he decided, and let his thumb slide the switch to kill mode before flipping safety off.
Using a hair clip kept in his pocket for situations like this, he pinned his floppy ears behind his head, so they wouldn't block his eardrums. He aimed his weapon towards the exit, listened, and waited.
Before too long, he could hear footfalls approaching, one pair closer with several more further away. They were not the heavy stomping of army boots. Krystal arrived first, stopping in front of the heavy metal doors. She stood perfectly still, only her eyes moving as she inspected the welds sealing the exit. Years of practice at the shooting range kicked in; Jackson inhaled, exhaled a quarter, aimed at Krystal's temple just below and in front of her ear, and pulled the trigger—
—just as she moved and spun in his direction. Her eyes glowed red for an instant as the shot sailed past, mere centimetres from her head. The blast ricocheted off the metal doors, lighting up her silhouette as she raised her own blaster and fired. The charge slammed into the buggy as he took cover, droplets of electrified plasma stinging his skin as they rained over him.
He ducked and moved to the other side, trying to shoot around the vehicle, but another stun round hit his hand, dislodging his blaster. He yelped in pain and clasped his fingers before fumbling with his communicator to send a distress call. He eyed his blaster, laying just out of his reach on the concrete floor. Readying himself for a second, tensing his leg muscles, he lunged for it, but another shot hit it, sending it sliding further down the tunnel.
Standing on his knees, he looked up and saw Krystal approaching, blaster at the ready, but there was something cursed about her. Her beautiful face was twisted in a snarl, fangs bared. He could feel her hatred, and fear washed over him; could she still read his thoughts? Had she just lured him out, waiting for the right moment to strike?
"There is logic in this, for both of us." He needed to stall her until his troops arrived. "Cerinia has a psychic advantage. Corneria needs an antidote. If our powers are balanced, then cooperation and trade can flourish."
"You believe your own twisted arguments, don't you?" Her eyes narrowed.
"Every civilization seeks power..."
He stopped. Somehow he just knew there was no point talking to her. All he could do was wait and hope, listen for the sounds of approaching soldiers, that were yet to materialise. She aimed between his eyes, her hand rock steady.
"The gas," he whimpered. "Is it working?"
He needed to know. Corneria's safety depended on it. But why would she answer? And here he would die, executed, without ever knowing.
"I am not like you," she growled.
What did that mean? She lowered her weapon a little. With a flash of light, a charged plasma bolt hit him square in the chest, the electric shock setting his nerves on fire. Every muscle in his entire body spasmed for just a second, and then there was nothing.
Krystal bent down and put two fingers to the poodle's neck, feeling a steady pulse, then slapped his muzzle. He was out like a light.
She returned to the doors just in time for Kabura and Mitsuru to arrive, pulling Sienna along between them. The large mountain dog looked like a bewildered wreck with her ruffled hair and glasses askew, while panting hard with her tongue hanging out. Then again, Kabura and Mitsuru looked exhausted as well; four years of imprisonment had hardly been good for their fitness.
Krystal wondered what had been going on between Sienna and Ryuga, who was bringing up the rear, anxiously looking behind him and holding the staff ready to fire. Neither did she know what to do with the mountain dog, but that had to wait; first they had to get out of here.
"My staff, please."
Ryuga placed it in Krystal's outstretched hand. She lifted it above her head, striking down as she released an ice blast, painting the welds holding the doors together with frost. After taking a moment to swap out the gem for a fresh one, she summoned a super quake. The energy built, making the fur on her hands stand on end, then her muscles spasmed, before she released it.
It slammed into the metal with a reverberating bang. The doors shook and a jagged crack appeared down the middle. Thankfully, the doors were hinged to swing outwards to make it harder for someone or something to force its way in, and with all five of them pushing as hard as they could, the doors opened just enough for them to squeeze through.
On the other side was a wider and shorter tunnel, perhaps fifty metres long, leading to the surface. Krystal crept along one concrete wall, scanning the outside. At first, she could only see a rock wall through the swirling snow, but getting closer she got a better view of the narrow canyon. It was close to sunset, the jagged peaks above bathed in amber light, casting long shadows on the canyon floor.
Straining her ears, she could just make out the whining sound of engines over the howling wind. A shuttle came around a bend with thrusters on full throttle to slow down. Stirring up a whirlwind of powder snow, it touched down fast and hard, bounding once on the landing gear before coming to a stop. It was under fire immediately. The howling of another engine pierced the sky, faster and angrier. The Sky Claw screamed into view, unleashing hell with its lasers.
Krystal used the opportunity to make a dash for the shuttle, but as soon as the Arwing had passed, she could sense hostility and fingers on triggers. She crouched down and let the staff's forcefield envelope her. Plasma bolts bounced off the dome, coming from two opposite directions. Falco returned for another flyby, and the fire ceased, but just for a moment. She retreated to the tunnel opening.
"I can see another tunnel opening and a small tower, both further up." Krystal grimaced. "We'll be under crossfire, and all six of us won't fit under my forcefield."
"I can lay down cover-fire." Kabura held up the blaster in his hand.
"They're too far away. A standard blaster isn't powerful and accurate enough." Krystal shook her head. "And they would have sniper rifles to take us down with."
"You'll have to take us one at a time," said Mitsuru.
"We don't have enough time." Krystal watched the gunfire outside as it concentrated on the shuttle, the blasts slowly chipping away at its shields. She could sense more guards coming up behind them to cut off the retreat. "We'll just have to make a run for it. Ryuga, take my staff and use it as a shield. Kabura and I will lay down cover with our blasters as best as we can." Her senses picked up something unexpected, and she frowned and looked out over the valley floor towards the other side. "Unless..."
The old Fichinan made himself as comfortable as he could with his back against a rock. He removed his gloves, since the fur on his hands would protect his fingers from the cold for a minute anyway, while he assembled his weapon. As if it still was yesterday, he quickly fitted a silencer and powerful scope to the old sniper rifle, while listening to the radio chatter. His earpiece was paired to a military communicator of the latest model provided by General O'Hare.
Krystal was causing quite the ruckus in the control centre, from what he could gather. The northern emergency exit was mentioned several times by agitated soldiers. He laid down in the snow and surveyed the narrow valley below him and the cliff face opposite him, making a mental note of the scope's distance readouts. Light snow fell, swirling in the wind, but it didn't obstruct his view much. The emergency exit was to his left where the canyon narrowed, a small opening in the rock protected by blast proof doors. A narrow path with steps led along the mountain side and out of the valley. He panned to his right, where there was an observation post further up the slope, and the silhouette of a CDF soldier on guard behind an opening in the concrete wall.
Sven was familiar with the control centre though, as with every major structure on Fichina, having been stationed there before being sent further afield in the Lylat System on still classified missions. He would use another way out, and had a feeling Krystal might do the same; she was allegedly a smart vixen after all. Closer to the valley floor he found a darker spot and zoomed in to find a hole in the rock. It was the entrance to an old service tunnel that had been used during the construction of the centre's deeper levels, but had been decommissioned since. The tunnel had been blocked off, but that was nothing the right amount of explosives couldn't fix. Crucially, in front of the tunnel opening, there was a space on the valley floor large and flat enough for a small ship to land.
The whine of engines made him look up. A shuttle appeared, flying low and coming in hot. With its nose up, it used its vertical thrusters to brake hard before touching down rather ungracefully. It was a crude but effective landing.
Still, it immediately drew fire from the other side of the canyon. The unmistakable silhouette of Falco Lombardi's custom Arwing flew past with screaming engines and flashing lasers. Sven assumed it was Falco's missus Katt Monroe piloting the shuttle, but neither of them was his objective.
He zoomed in on the service tunnel and could just about make out a roller door opening in the shadows. A small group of people emerged with Krystal at the lead, cautiously peering around the concrete lining the tunnel entrance.
Another blue fox sporting a ponytail fired his blasters towards the source of the incoming fire, while Krystal ran towards the shuttle. She stopped halfway and crouched under a force field. Incoming blasts traced colourful lines through the falling snow, while she looked around before retracing her steps.
Falco returned and strafed the cliff face with laser fire, but without being able to get a direct line on the defenders in the narrow valley. The 'enemy forces' simply took cover for a moment, before resuming their fire. You'd need to drop a nova bomb to take them out, Sven thought, but he doubted that Falco had the heart to do that; these were not Aparoids or Anglars, but fellow Cornerian Army soldiers.
The radio chatter continued, a unit having reached the upper part of the service tunnel, finding the blast doors open. Orders were barked to capture Krystal and the Cerinians, preferably alive.
Sven increased magnification to maximum, zooming in on Krystal's concerned face as she looked from side to side while taking stock of the situation.
You're in a pickle now, lady, he thought. How're you gonna get everyone to the shuttle before the CDF grunts arrive?
Krystal frowned and her eyes started searching the valley in front of him. She still had her powers, the General had said, but could she find him from here, several hundred metres away? Her gaze rose, travelling up the mountain side, until it focussed on his scope, staring right back at him.
But how can she see past my camouflage? Sven wondered. It's like she can see what I see looking at her.
She nodded and the fur on Sven's back stood on end.
I'll be damned, he thought and undid the rifle's safety. You have three seconds, lady.
Krystal grasped her staff and held it in front of her. Sven swung the rifle to his left, taking just a second to zero in on a light over the entrance to the emergency exit, aiming just above it. He pulled the trigger as he'd done countless times before. With a muted puff, the rifle recoiled. A fraction of a second later, the light exploded in shards and went out.
He didn't stop to look at the people scrambling for cover, and a second later his scope had found the observation post, where a soldier wanting to see what was going on leaned out an opening just a little too far. Sven pulled the trigger again, and the soldier was flung backwards, disappearing out of sight. Sven had chosen his ammunition carefully; the bullets would not penetrate modern armour, but it would hurt like hell on impact and, more importantly, make them think twice about sticking their muzzles out again.
A rifle appeared in another opening, but vanished just as quickly when Sven placed a shot in the wall next to it, sending sparks flying. Laser would leave a trail of light in the falling snow, but with no light and no sound, the soldiers had no idea where the shots had come from, and decided to keep their heads down.
No one is used to kinetic weapons anymore, Sven mused, knowing that the CDF had only used energy weapons for decades. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the escapees heading for the Shuttle with Krystal bringing up the rear, shooting fireballs from her staff for good measure. Sven kept peppering the outpost and the emergency exit with bullets until the shuttle was airborne. Falco came in for another flyby, escorting the shuttle out of the valley. Two Cornerian bottlenose fighters passed overhead, but Sven paid them no mind; there was nothing he could do about them that Falco couldn't.
After picking up the spent shells and tucking them in a pocket, he ducked out of sight behind a boulder and secured the rifle to his backpack. With cold fingers, he typed in a short message on the communicator, knowing that it would be delivered to the General only: 'They're out.'
He donned gloves and goggles before clicking his boots into a pair of skis. Making sure the backpack was strapped on tightly, he crouched and pushed a button, which opened the valve on a canister of compressed air in the backpack. The thrust from the expelled gas — leaving no heat signature — propelled him up to and over the nearest ridge.
There, he turned off the jetpack, and glided down the slope on the other side. His white thermal suit made him invisible against the snow, and the tracks he left behind would soon blow over. He disappeared into the winter's night, where the climate and terrain was like a second home to the weathered Fichinan.
Thanks again to Erold for continuous help with beta-reading, and to Thespacedoge for letting me use Sven Schutz.