“Deploy the lightshow. Let’s give these fuckers something to look at.”
Powell activated the new payload he had been given. His job was simple: distract, blind, and lead the enemy forces into an ambush.
The latter of which had been rather simple. The Senate cruisers were hot on his tail, and he had been ducking through the asteroid field they were using to avoid cannons meant for way larger craft than his own.
Soundlessly, the asteroid to his left was atomized as the “weapons ready” indicator flared up on his screen.
He presses the button to fire, and a thousand ‘flares’ were fired out through virtually every opening of the Frigate.
The flares were essentially based on the countermeasures used in atmospheric combat way back when, in order to throw off heat-seeking missiles. The theory here was essentially the same.
While you can’t hide your heat in space, you could give the enemy a wall of fire to blanket out the sensors.
Seeing as his craft was pretty much undetectable to conventional RADAR, and the Demiossian systems rendering it invisible to most other scanning tech, they became pretty much invisible.
“This is Stingray 2-1 to Longsword. Ball’s in your court, over.”
The cruiser, that had been placed into a dormant state to minimalize its’ heat signature, powers up.
A couple of seconds later, the three senate cruisers are turned into slag by close-range antimatter fire.
Not a bad catch for a frigate and a cruiser.
“Alright, longsword. Good job sweeping. I’m going back to fishing, over.”
The speakers sparked to life.
“That’s a negative, 2-1. We’ve been called back to the hub for new orders, over.”
Damn, what had command cooked up this time?
Well, no idea questioning it.
“Roger that, Longsword. I’m heading back to the hub. Stingray out.”
2.1 kilometers to target location
McCallen had been walking for the larger part of three hours, and he must admit he’s rather strained by the endeavor.
The atmosphere on the planet is just a bit too thin for McCallen’s comfort, but at least he wasn’t choking at it.
He had that going for him.
And well, that was about it.
McCallen was wielding a large stick he had found, and was now drudging through forested wilderness, dotted by what seemed to be access points to a bunker system.
He was now making his way to his closest squad mate, or well, the helmet-beacon of one of his squadmates, in the hopes of regrouping.
But so far no one had answered on the com, and that made McCallen somewhat uneasy.
But he wasn’t stopping anytime soon.
He had to get off this blasted rock.
He reached the top of a hill, and before him lay what seemed to be a military outpost.
Which was good as it might provide a way out, but it was also bad as he was unarmed and unarmored.
Well. The beacon was inside the military facilities, so that’s where he was going.
He dives into the bushes covering the landscape, and begins crawling in the direction of the hostile base.
Time to go Solid Snake on these fuckers.
Admiral Vo’lek was horribly bored.
The fact that he and his armada had been ordered to defend Huujin space was a disgrace.
He was the most experienced commander in the three armadas that had been sent to this sector, and he was sent to babysit some fish?
Bah. Nothing interesting will happen he-
The alarms started blaring, and Vo’lek was forced to eat his own words.
The Huujin representative strode onto the battlestation’s command deck.
“What is going on, admiral?”
To tell the truth, Vo’lek didn’t know.
“Status report! What is happening here?”
The scanner technician spoke up.
“Sir, there’s massive incoming subspace signatures.
They aren’t ours.”
The admiral didn’t know how the technician could remain so calm with the report, and how he could know so certainly that they were hostile.
Well, the Huujin had always been a little strange.
The ships start to drop out of subspace, and Vo’lek can confirm it with his own eyes. The ships are most certainly alliance.
“What are you waiting for?! Open fire! All ships turn to face the enemy!”
The Huujin didn’t move to convey his orders.
Cowards! They were frozen in fear!
“Come on, blast it! They’re not numerous enough to fight the Armada, let alone if you shitheads turn the orbital defenses on them! Move it!”
Still nothing.
He can hear the familiar beep of an incoming hail.
A human’s face takes up most of the command window.
“Operation Clear waters is a go.”
The hail ends.
What the…?
He feels a sharp pain in his side.
“What…”
The Huujin representative pulls his dagger out of the Admiral’s flesh.
“I’m sorry, admiral. But I am a servant of my people, and my people have spoken.”
He turns to the operators.
“Activate the guns. Fire upon the armada.”
The last thing Vo’lek sees before his world turns to darkness is the first railgun slug fired from the orbital defenses into his flagship’s unprotected rear.
Snap
The Gajun sentry died almost soundlessly, and McCallen pulls the corpse aside into what seems to be an armory.
He picks up the sentry’s plasma rifle, and starts digging through the armory itself.
Ammo, ammo, armors, guns… not much of use to McCallen.
Aha! A timed explosive.
Now we’re talking.
McCallen dials it up a bit.
He can’t read the signs on the explosive, but that should do.
It’s not hard to tell how to activate it.
He presses the big red button, and gently places the bomb into a crate of plasma cells.
This should make for a nice bang.
He makes haste out of the armory, and approaches the location where the radio signal is coming from, diving between crates, vehicles and buildings to stay out of sight.
15 meters, 10 meters, 5 meters…
Okay, so he found it.
It’s a large concrete building, with a single access door and a few windows.
He sneaks around to the back, and peeks in the window.
He can see Jenkins bound to a chair in the room, stripped of his armor and with the helmet discarded on a crate.
His armor seems in no better condition than McCallen’s had been.
And over him stands two Gajun, who from the looks of it are trying to interrogate him.
He is prodded with an electric wire, and McCallen can hear the sound of the current searing the soldier’s flesh.
Jenkins is panting.
“Heh, that all? If this is your best interrogation technique I recommend picking up the book ‘interrogation for dummies’. You need it.”
He is prodded with the electric wires again, and McCallen sees Jenkins’ teeth clench as he screams in pain.
He’s seen enough. He makes way to the back door.
The alien voice, mechanical-sounding due to the translator, rings out.
“Where is the rest of your squad?! Answer me, Human.”
McCallen kicks the door in.
“Right behind you, motherfuckers.”
The aliens turn towards him, but are felled by two quick plasma blasts, just as a great explosion shatters all the windows.
Seems like the bomb went off.
McCallen hurries over to Jenkins, and unties the man.
Jenkins laughs.
“Boy, am I glad to see you. I was worried they might go for my balls next.”
McCallen snickers.
“Good job enduring the torture. If they realized we can locate eachother with the helmets we might have been in deep shit.”
Jenkins looks wide-eyed at McCallen.
“Wait, we can do that?!”