Penultimate chunk. If you've ever read any of my older, non-BT bad fanfic, there might be something familar in here for you.
-----
Even though he was not the commander of the Illyricum, nor was he a part of running the ship’s operations, Sextus Veranicus Barbicum could often be found on the ship’s bridge. It was an understandable fact that the crew had simply learned to accept, usually not minding his presence or even finding the man sometimes useful to have there when running a combat mission.
The truth was that Barbicum cared deeply for his unit and its members, and wanted to feel that he could do everything he was capable of for them. By being on the bridge of the dropship, he was trying to take control of their situations, to guide what was happening by his own hand. And while it was questionable as to how useful this could be, few could deny the positive morale that came from his actions.
Right now was not one of those times, however. Ever since touchdown, he had been nervously pacing the bridge, glancing at displays and badgering the crew with minor questions. A not insubstantial amount of time had been spent simply watching the two figures advancing across the concourse, as if something horrible was about to happen to them.
“Major.” Captain Singh spoke up. “We’re all nervous, really. With what’s going on and all, I don’t blame you. However… maybe it would be best if you just relaxed. Things are out of our hands for now. I can monitor the situation here and-”
“I can’t.” Barbicum cut him off. “I should have never have made this damned deal. I’m going to get us all killed over my own damn decision. What the hell was I thinking?”
Singh nodded. “You made the right decision, captain. You chose to do what was right for your men, even if it wasn’t the easy thing to do. When you look at the alternative, it really wasn’t a choice.”
“And we’re dead either way.” He snarled. “And now we can’t do a damned thing about it.”
Singh sighed to himself. “I’d sooner risk certain death doing what we are now then the alternative.” He simply stated. “And I don’t think that there is a single member of Valeria Victrix who would disagree with me.”
Barbicum stopped, turning to face the captain. “It doesn’t mean that I have to like it.”
“No.” Singh agreed. “But then, when we first signed on with the Word, who could have thought that it would lead to this?”
“True.” Barbicum admitted. “Still, I’ll feel better when we get our guests off of the ship.”
“Likewise.” Singh agreed. “With all the extra weight we’re hauling we have to re-work a lot of standard procedures. Not to mention the strain they’re putting on the life support systems. I don’t like the stress my ship is under any more then you like how your men are being treated, Major.”
“Regardless, that damned woman said that she’d brief me on the next step soon.” He grunted, looking around the bridge again. “Just wish she’d get on with it so this whole mess would be over.”
He went back to his pacing, glancing down at one of the displays that was currently showing the vast expanse of the drop-port. There was no sign now of the two figures, which still didn’t tell him anything. Drumming his fingers on the console again, he muttered something before resuming is pacing, glancing around the ship bridge. The sound of a bulkhead door opening provided some relief, as all present turned to face the newcomer.
Barbcum was ready to demand they leave the bridge before he realised who it was and managed to stop himself. “Quesh.” He began, nodding to the Mercenary woman as she approached. “I can guess why you’re here.”
“You’re probably right.” She nervously replied as she approached, glancing around. “Our… mutual friend sent me up here, and told me to wait for her.”
“Understood.” He nodded, glancing around. “That means we can finally get this bloody mess over and done with.”
“Yeah.” Lily muttered. “I guess she’ll be-“
-----
Even down in the depths of the ship, Plokhyden heard the blast as the explosives concealed within Quesh’s altered body detonated. Alarms went off throughout the ship, followed by the sounds of a select few of its access hatches opening. Very soon, the ship would be swarming with Word infantry, dealing with those on board by whatever means were needed.
Safe in her tiny little hideaway in a remote corner of the ship, she continued to monitor events, watching through the taps she’d installed into the Illyricum’s systems. With the bridge out of action and with every ranking member of both teams dead, there would be little organised resistance. All she had to ensure was that one particular person was taken alive and out of harm’s way.
Her featureless eyes watched as troopers moved in, working their way through the vessel and rounding up those on board. A few tried to fight, only to quickly find themselves outnumbered, out-gunned and surrounded. Within moments, the decapitated ship was theirs, its crew and passengers their captives. Across the port, similar events would be happening on-board the other mercenary ship, bringing it under the Word’s control.
Even if I have the true prize already, she noted, glancing at Levisha before opening a communications channel. “This is Plokhyden to command. Objective one is secure.”
-----
Elezha frantically disconnected herself from the system, filing away as much of the information as she could as she shut down links and tried to scrub any indications of her presence. “What’s the plan, Sandra?” She asked, her featureless visor making it hard to tell exactly where she was looking.
“This mission is completely tooled.” Sandra simply replied as she drew a pistol, checking it. “We don’t skip to stage two, we skip to getting the frel out of here.”
“I could check their systems-“
“No time.” Sandra cut her off. “They probably swung the damn plan into action as soon as we got here and are probably figuring where we are now. If I hadn’t tripped that damned file, then we’d be completely tooled.”
“And we’re not?”
“Only mostly tooled.” She admitted. “But with a chance of escape.” She pressed her back to the wall, eyeing the server room door. For the moment, everything was silent, with no signs of movement or any other activity on the other side. Save for the hum of the computers, the loudest thing that reached Sandra’s ears was the pounding of her own heart. Can’t earnestly say that I’ve been in a worse situation then this. Way to go agreeing to this whole forking mess, Sandra.
“Okay, I think we’re good.” She managed with only minimal conviction. “On three, I open the door and we start running, got it?” Elezha gave a quiet nod. “One. Two. Three!”
Sandra opened the door, only to find a massive figure on the other side, clad head to toe in thick body armour. “Tool!” She shouted, swiftly slamming the door shut, instead finding it stopped by a massive, clawed hand. For a second, she thought she could fight it, only to have the door slammed back by the sheer brute applied.
Rolling with it as best she could, Sandra landed in a crouch, drawing a second gun with swift, practiced ease. Not even bothering to shout a warning, and knowing full well how useless it would be anyway, she instead opened fire, sending rounds at the armoured behemoth at near point-blank range. Between size and distance, it would be impossible for her to miss; not that it seemed to matter anyway.
The behemoth simply shrugged it off, the rounds clearly impacting on his body armour but then bouncing off with little or no effect. “Frigging Robes!” Sandra shouted as the massive man-machine-thing advanced. “He’s got armour and bionics and god alone knows what else! Any ideas, Elezha?” She spared a glance back to her compatriot, but that wasn’t much help either.
Elezha had backed herself up into a corner, clinging onto the server racks for dear life. Even though the cyborg had no eyes in this disguise, Sandra knew terror when she saw it. “Okay, scratch that.” Sandra muttered as she turned her eye back to the massive creature that had stepped into the room. “Time for plan… something.”
She charged forwards with all her might, hoping to grab or bear down the larger man and figuring full well that she had no plan after that. However, right now, it seemed better then any alternatives, which was enough for her. The result, however, felt like she’d just run into a brick wall. There was not a millimetre of give in the man, instead staying right where he’d been.
And then he landed his counter, a massive blow to Sandra’s back that felt like a sledgehammer, driving her down to her knees. A second one slammed into her in a storm of sharp pain, followed by a third that drove into her, seemingly crushing her under the impact. Collapsing forward and dropping her weapons, she tried to grab at his knees, maybe out of some need to stand or a token effort at fighting back.
The clawed hand reached down again, grabbing her by the neck and lifting her into the air with ease, like a small child. Desperate, Sandra flailed at the metal arm with her fists, the blows having little effect beyond stinging her hands. A subtle application of pressure cut off even that avenue of resistance, the artificial fingers closing around her throat, Sandra’s futile blows replaced instead with efforts to pry them free.
“Well done, Crusher.” A voice spoke up, coming from behind the massive figure. “Our two infiltrators handily under control.”
A man stepped into the room, looking over at Elezha, and then up at Sandra. Middle-aged with lined features and a stern face, his most striking feature was the blank red lens that replaced one eye, glaring out from under his hood. Even though Sandra had only seen his face in pictures so far, she instantly recognised him.
“Ogel.” She gasped out.
-----
On the ground, things weren’t pretty. For starters, it was freezing, something that made Jake wish he’d grabbed something to wear on his mad dash out of the dropship. Not that he was planning to go back there now.
From their vantage point behind a ground tug, he and Reg were watching the Illyricum and trying to assess the situation. Right now, ‘completely screwed’ seemed like a fair assessment. There was smoke pouring out of the dropship, while the base of the vessel was surrounded by Word APCs, and a ring of infantry on the outside of those. Even the quickest of headcounts told him that there were going to be a lot more troops inside then out.
“Okay, Reg.” He began. “I admit that you were right and that getting the hell out of there was a good plan. So here’s the next question. What the hell do we do now?”
“Difficult.” Reg tapped his chin. “They have the ship surrounded and under their control. It’s likely that they will try to capture as many of our people alive as they can. Personally, I suspect that the Word are working for a-“
“Stick to the facts, Reg.” Jake snapped.
“Well… I’d say that they executed a similar strike on Victrix’s other dropper to take out all of us at once and stop anyone from fighting back. Depending on how insider their information was, they likely also sent people after Sandra and E. From that, we can only take for granted that the pair of us are the only free members of the team.”
“Not holding out for other escapees, or Sandra getting away?” Jake asked. “She’s pretty damned tough.”
“Never assume.” Reg shot back. “Only take hard evidence.”
“And then engage in wild speculation from that.” Jake muttered.
“Right.” Reg seemed to agree. “Though I admit you’re the better legwork man then me, Jake. What’s your first step?”
“Well.” Jake glanced around. “Most people would consider being trapped on a planet you know nothing about with no resources but what you have on hand and being surrounded by an army of crazed cyborg fanatics to be an untenable situation.”
“And you?”
Jake grinned. “I’m not most people. Though I think I need to find something warmer to start with. Gonna freeze my tits off out here”
The pair of them quietly crept off, keeping low and away from the dropship and the crowd surrounding it. In his head, Jake was already trying to figure ways out of the situation they were in. Hopeless? Nothing’s ever hopeless. Just got to have the right tools and some way to use them. Step one then is going to be recon, to see what they have around and get some lay of their forces. Then we start breaking stuff.
He headed for what looked like small shed further out from the dropship, figuring that right now was not the time to hang around the vessel. Sooner or later they’re going to have a manifest and a headcount and find themselves two short. When that happens, they’ll want to find those two leftovers and take care of them quickly. We need to be as ready for that as we can.
Up close, the building was a semi-recessed concrete bunker, likely still an equipment shed albeit one that was set well into the ground and hardened against assault. Jake could also see that it was old, with cracks that had been repaired after centuries of neglect. Doesn’t tell me much that’s useful, he considered as he looked around. Reg might be able to tell us something about this world or the like from that, he added, glancing at his partner.
“SLDF design.” Reg began, as if answering his unspoken question. “So I think that-“
“Shh.” Jake cut him off, hearing the faint crunch-crunch of footfalls nearby. Only one person from the sounds of things. Might be a lone soldier sweeping the perimeter or looking for stragglers like us. Either way, it could also be a good way to get some resources to hand.
“Stay here.” He hissed as he drew his pistol, cautiously advancing towards the next corner of the squat, rectangular structure. The intruder, whoever they were, seemed to be around the other side, sounding like they weren’t aware of his presence, their footsteps continuing to approach. Back to the wall, he waited for them to approach.
Ready. Any second… now! As soon as they rounded the corner, Jake made his move. He sprang out, pistol levelled at their face. “Don’t make a sound.” He snarled, and then paused a moment.
“What in the heck are y’all doing out here?” Lynne Street James asked. It was at that point that Jake noticed that not only was she dressed a lot better for the weather then he was, but that she also had a knife right up against his gut.
“We got away from the ship before the Word struck.” He managed. “What are you doing out here?”
“Heck, I’d been ages stuck on that there flying crap-heap and then the rock in space before that, and then a different flying crap-heap and I’ve been itchin’ for a smoke.” Lynn offered. “So I thought I might sneak out and get a puff an’ next thing you know, there’s guys crawlin’ all over the place back there.”
Jake was about to say something, and then paused a moment as he ran over what Lynn had just said. “Wait, you risked compromising operational security just to have a cigarette?”
“I needed one bad, kay?” She sounded apologetic. “I mean, you ain’t just raggin’ on me cause you think yer a better driver, right?”
“Well, you do have a knife stuck into me.”
“Crap, sorry.” Lynne backed off, looking apologetic. “So it’s just you, me an’ Reg then.”
“Hi there!” Reg waved from behind Jake, causing the other man to sigh in exasperation.
“Seems that way.” Reg agreed. “We’re only out because I managed to tip Rex off in advance.”
“Well that ain’t good.” Lynne considered. “So what do we do?”
“Get some warmer clothes first, and then scope the place out.” Jake managed. Even though it wasn’t actually snowing outside, nor was there much of a breeze, he could still feel the chill biting at his skin. The clouds of breath coming out as he spoke didn’t help any.
“I got a lighter.” Lynne offered.
“It’s a start.” He managed. “I don’t suppose you bought any of your tools with you?” Reg had his noteputer, but right now, that wasn’t as much of an asset as Reg thought it was. At the moment, they needed hands-on, and Lynne was a surprisingly useful asset at this point.
“Got a few, yeah.” She padded down her coat. “Never leave home without ‘em and all.”
“Right. So first thing we do is establish a base-camp of sorts, find some way we can consolidate what we have and work out the next step while trying to stay warm. There’s plenty of structures around the port here, and given the size of this place against the likely amount of traffic they’re getting, I think it’s fair to say that the Word won’t have reactivated all of them.”
“Agreed.” Reg nodded. “This place looks like it was built to handle a SLDF brigade going through. A couple of battalions is going to be a drop in the proverbial capacity bucket.”
“Heck, I know all about run-down ruins an’ hiding out in them.” Lynne added. “I can help y’all find a good place to stay.”
Jake glanced between the pair of them. “Right then. It’s not much, but it’s a start, which-“
“You three!” A voice barked out. “Hands in the air, now!”
Jake turned around, only to see a lone Word soldier behind them, his rifle pointed in their direction. A quick glance told him that the man didn’t seem to have any obvious signs of cybernetics, which was at least marginally encouraging. Means that he can’t just rip us apart. On the other hand, he has an assault rifle and he can afford to make lots of noise.
In short, we just got black flagged on the first lap.
“I said hands in the air no-“
Before the man could finish his sentence, he gave a sudden jerk, and then collapsed to the ground. It was only after a moment that Jake noted the head-level splatter of blood against the wall. “Who-“
“No idea.” Reg managed. “But they’re a good shot. I’m talking Lee Harvey Oswald level good.”
“Who?” Lynne asked, only to be waved off by Jake.
“Shh.” He glanced around, trying to figure where the shot had come from. There was no sign of anyone nearby, only open expanses of concrete, small piles of snow and the occasional piece of drop-port infrastructure scattered around the place. It was only after a minute that he saw a diminutive figure, darting from one pile to another before stopping and giving the briefest of waves before ducking down again.
“They’re signalling to us.” He managed. “We seem to be clear otherwise.” The Word soldier seemed to have been on his own, for reasons that Jake could only guess at Maybe he was sneaking off to have a smoke, he told himself as he glanced at Lynn. Either way…
He quickly grabbed the man’s jacket and rifle before taking a second glance over to where the sniper had been. There was no sign of them now, but at the same time, no sign of anyone else. Nodding to the others, Jake took off with them behind him, making a scampering, scurrying and nerve-wracking run over to the mound of snow where he’d last seen them. It was only as he skidded and crawled into cover that he actually saw who had called them over.
It was a woman, clad head-to-toe in a light grey suit that left only their pale green eyes exposed. Compact, they seemed almost dwarfed by the rifle they were carrying. “Thanks.” He managed as he caught his breath. “Um…”
She pulled off her mask, revealing a surprisingly young face topped with an unruly mop of blonde hair. “Victoria Hagen. I’ve been watching your butts for years now.”
“I’ve never seen you before.” He admitted.
“Means I’m doing my job right.” She replied with an almost gleeful grin. “I live in anonymity.”
“So what are you doing out here?” Jake continued.
“Me?” Victoria smirked. “I’m the backup plan.”
