Rebellion: Rise Of Mankind Book 7

by John Walker

  Nothing’s ever simple.

  Four of them were assigned to take the necessary building with the idea being a small squad might be sneaky where more people would raise suspicion. If they were caught, it would be easy to explain them away as some opportunistic criminals profiting from the chaos of the conflict.

  Their drop pod didn’t have any windows but he watched their surroundings on a small holographic screen. Ships exploded all around them, civilian craft utterly decimated by the military. He had time to monitor their communications, surprised to find they offered no quarter, no chance for surrender.

  These people do not care. They must be seriously over this uprising if they’re being so casual about killing their fellows. I know they’re technically traitors but wouldn’t it be better to pull them into the fold rather than…this?

  They broke atmosphere and found another battle. Fighters clashed in the sky, rebel pilots somehow getting their hands on military vehicles. We must be in the midst of the final battle, the last skirmish before one side or the other folds. Trellan watched helplessly as they nearly collided with some hapless pilot, narrowly missing them.

  Someone hailed them but the request for communication ended abruptly. A quick scan check showed the source had been destroyed, shot down by one side or the other. The hardest part of this particular war was determining who was on what side. Anyone could be a rebel, using any sort of vehicle or weapon.

  Their rough landing jarred his bones but he had to shake it off quickly as they slid to a halt. The plan involved them hijacking another vehicle to escape the planet’s surface but the idea seemed far more dangerous than it had. Someone up there would take shots at them, regardless of what they left in. There was no such thing as a universal friend or foe in the midst of a civil war.

  They landed in the middle of the farm land surrounding the facility they needed to take. All around them, fields stretched in every direction interrupted by the homes of the people who tended them. A quick check indicated there were few people around, which meant they wouldn’t have to deal with civilians or the military.

  Free from the craft, they checked the computer for direction and his partners began to complain. He only vaguely recalled their names, each a handle more than a birth designation. Malice, Crowbar, and Hitback respectively. They represented everything Trellan came to dislike about pirates and criminals in general. Mean spirited, brutal and crass, they seemed excited at the prospect of killing people when they arrived at the facility.

  And I thought I got off easy coming down here. They’re surely going to try to wipe out everyone at the space station. At least here, there was a chance we wouldn’t have to but with this crew, I have no guarantees.

  Trellan loaded up his tablet and ensured it was linked to his wrist computer. The rest of his weapons were secured, a pistol on his right hip, a submachine gun on his back and a blade strapped to his left leg. They didn’t bring any grenades, which he felt was a mistake but the cheap asses running the op wouldn’t spring for them.

  The four of them started their jaunt to the facility and Trellan considered the other half of the operation. With the fighting going on around them, the station might’ve been locked down hard. Getting on board would be a challenge, never mind trying to reach the computer in question. This whole task might be doomed already…and if the Orion’s Light finds out we failed, I’ll have ruined my chances to join up.

  “Newbie,” Crowbar barked at him from up ahead, motioning with his bald head to the right. “Get point. I want to check something out.”

  “You’re not in charge,” Malice said. “And you’re not deviating from the mission again. Remember what Derelict said before?”

  “Shut it before you become a casualty of this mission.” Crowbar glared at both of them. “I won’t be long but there’s loot over there and I’m not leaving the planet without it.”

  “Your pay isn’t enough?” Trellan asked. “Seriously, we’ve got another three kilometers to go and you’re thinking about stealing? You want to carry whatever that is around with you because you’ll have to catch up and probably fight holding on to extra load out. Now, I don’t know how good you are but I’m guessing not very so you might not want to limit yourself.”

  “What did you say?” Crowbar advanced on him, glaring him in the eyes.

  “Step back or we’re doing this mission with three,” Trellan warned. “You know I care about you as much as you do me so getting in my face isn’t smart. Focus on the task at hand, get your pay and we go our separate ways. That’s what I have to say.”

  “C’mon,” Hitback complained. He was wiry and tall, covered in scars. His name must’ve also meant gets hit a lot. “Can we stow this nonsense? There’s no time!”

  “We have time.” Crowbar set his rifle down. “For the beating I’m going to give this guy.”

  Malice sighed. “If he kills you, I’m not going to feel bad.”

  “We’re in the middle of a field and you’re thinking about robbing a house,” Trellan said. “Which, by the way, probably has nothing in it of value to you. These are farmers, not nobles. Just get on with the mission.”

  Crowbar took a swing at him and Trellan backed away, easily avoiding the blow. Another two punches came at him and he quick drew his pistol, firing as the barrel matched up with Crowbar’s face. The gun barked in his hand and his opponent’s head jerked back as he dropped to the ground dead.

  Malice descended on the body in a moment and at first, Trellan thought he might be checking to see if he was okay. When he started rifling through his pockets, Trellan was reminded what type of people he’d been saddled with. Hitback shook his head, actually chuckling at the display.

  “You warned him.”

  “Now I’ve discharged a gun out here,” Trellan said. “If anyone’s paying attention and doesn’t think it’s the war, we need to fall out. Quick. Either of you two want to talk about what just happened?”

  Malice laughed. “Not at all, newbie. Let’s just go before you decide to shoot us too.”

  “I’m not a fan of that plan,” Hitback said. “I’m good but this is going to be harder with only three of us.”

  They got moving again but Malice kept talking. “Nah, Crowbar was useless. We only brought him along to soak a few bullets. Not like he had anything to contribute. You really handled yourself with him, newbie.”

  “Stop calling me that,” Trellan muttered. “It’s not like I’m sticking around with you yahoos.”

  As they drew closer, the facility came into view, a large metal structure which, according to the map, was a power facility. The obfuscation made sense. Trellan wanted to know what they were stealing and he hoped he might be able to gather the information from the computer. He lied to the others about his skill, they only needed to think he was a gunman.

  If they had any idea just how good he was in other fields, they would’ve been suspicious. After all, thugs didn’t tend to be diverse and he didn’t want to cause friction with their captain, Derelict. People with expansive skills led idiots like Hitback and Malice, they didn’t run around with them. Not for very long at least.

  Trellan dropped low and drew out his binoculars but his two comrades kept moving. “Hey! Get down, you fools! What’re you doing?”

  “Going to the facility?” Hitback gave him an innocent look. “Are you tired?”

  “Of how stupid you are, yes.” Trellan gestured sharply. “I’d like to get a look at the place before we go running in there. Would you mind?”

  Both of them seemed surprised at the notion and they returned to him, crouching. “Never thought about it.”

  “How have you guys ever managed to do any of this type of work?” Trellan peered through the binoculars at the facility.

  “We sort of just run in and kill stuff,” Malice replied. “Worked great before.”

  “This is higher stakes,” Trellan said. “Just…hold tight.”

  There were two guards standing near the door, looking nervous. L
ikely, they were worried about the action happening above them and less than three miles to the east. Surely, they stayed in touch with the combat going on around them and they probably wondered if the rebels planned to bother them.

  They’re likely basking in the lie of protecting a power station but I’ll bet other municipal utilities don’t warrant armed guards. Of course, in the midst of a war, who’s to say what protocols change?

  “There are two guys at the doors,” Trellan announced, switching his binoculars to a scan setting. Other armed individuals filled the base and his computer counted them up: fifteen in all. He sighed, turning his head away. Part of him felt like these folks wouldn’t be particularly well trained. Guards rather than soldiers.

  But then there was a good chance the military might be protecting this facility to keep people away from the schematics. Could they afford to leave top notch soldiers there considering all that was going on? They’d have to find out the hard way and with two morons watching his back, he didn’t have a good feeling about their chances of survival.

  “What’s wrong?” Hitback asked. “You look like you ate something bad.”

  “There are a lot of people in there,” Trellan said. “Armed guards…or soldiers, it’s impossible to tell without seeing them fight.”

  “Uh oh.” Malice hummed. “Too bad you killed Crowbar. We could’ve sent him in and seen how they dealt with him.”

  Hitback chuckled. Trellan didn’t feel like Crowbar deserved much respect but the fact that two men who knew him so casually talked about letting him die disturbed him. These people were not going to operate as a team and the operation just became a lot more dangerous and perhaps impossible.

  I told that idiot Vil I wouldn’t work with guys who weren’t pro. I’m going to beat his ass when I see him again.

  “Okay, so we have to take this slow if we want to have any chance of getting out of there alive, never mind making our target, do you guys understand?”

  “What do you mean?” Malice asked.

  “We can’t reveal our position or intention until we absolutely have no choice. That means taking out those two guys quietly and without alerting everyone inside.”

  “They have cameras,” Hitback said. “You can see their lights from here. They’re watching the guards.”

  Trellan pulled out his tablet. “I can take care of those from here. But we won’t have a lot of time. Please tell me you brought knives? Or at least a quiet weapon?”

  “Yeah, we’ve got some cutters.” Malice drew out a wicked looking curved blade. It looked ceremonial though Trellan had no idea what religion might use such a thing. Hitback pulled a straight, modern looking knife with double edges. “We’re ready.”

  “I want both of you to separate, go different directions and loop way around. Get to the walls where you won’t get picked up on those cameras. When I see you nearing position, I’ll interrupt the feed and you take those guys out. When they’re dead, I’ll meet you but start breaching the door. If it’s unlocked, hold tight. We’ll enter together, sound good?”

  “You’re pretty sound at all this,” Hitback said. “Way better than the captain ever is. We’re on our way. Just don’t screw up with those cameras.”

  Trellan offered a sarcastic smile. “I won’t. Just hurry. We’ve already lost a lot of time by having to run up here in the first place.”

  The two men dashed off, leaving him alone to contemplate the situation. He wondered how hard it would be to get in on his own. Letting his two fool partners get into the thick of it might offer him a chance to burst in by himself while they caused a lot of chaos. He thought about the various possibilities of going it solo, considering each option carefully.

  Fifteen common soldiers may not be able to take him but he already felt bad that he’d be responsible for several more innocent lives being lost. Despite how he’d been living, he hadn’t lost his conscience. A fleeting thought touched the back of his mind. How would he ever integrate back into regular kielan society?

  If he succeeded and got to go home, what would happen? He’d done too much, seen too many things, killed too many people…any other government representative would be going to prison. Once he had a chance to slow down and think, he knew he’d be messed up. All the therapy in the galaxy was unlikely to save him.

  The two idiots found their positions and crept along the walls. Trellan decided not to betray them and instead tapped away at his tablet. The security was fairly tight but not against the best code cracking software available to an operative. He was in and controlling their cameras in a few moments.

  Tapping his ear piece, he spoke softly. “Turning off the cameras now. On my mark, get them.”

  Luckily, they didn’t reply and merely stood still in anticipation. He counted it down. “Three…two…one…go.”

  The two dashed forward just as Trellan tapped his tablet, taking down the cameras. Hitback leaped in the air and tackled his target to the ground, stabbing him half a dozen times. Malice went for a more subtle approach, grabbing his target and sliding his nasty blade across the man’s throat.

  Trellan put away his tablet and dashed forward, drawing a blade of his own. He arrived less than a minute later and checked the bodies, pulling out an identification card. It became their way into the building and after he scanned it by the door, it opened up, revealing a short hallway leading to a larger room for staging replacement parts.

  This place normally would be for civilians keeping the power going for the farms around here. I wonder what the agricultural workers get for allowing them to host the security for a space station here. If they even know about it.

  “There are thirteen guards left,” Trellan muttered. “They’re not all together. As we move through this place, we need to take them quietly.”

  “Got it.” Malice nodded. Who’s taking point?”

  Trellan sighed. “I will. Give me a good six to ten feet though. I don’t need you breathing down my neck.”

  He paced into the main room, noting two doors heading off to the left and right. He checked his wrist computer, bringing up the schematics. Fewer men seemed to be stationed to the right and all corridors led to their destination. He chose to go that way, risking fewer engagements early on.

  Using the security pass he took from the guard again, Trellan stepped into the hallway and paced along as quietly as possible. His companions, on the other hand, plodded along like herd animals and he gave them a sharp look, placing his finger to his lips. “Slow down and be quiet,” he rasped. “Or you might as well pull out your gun and start shooting people.”

  A soldier rounded the corner just as Trellan turned away from his companions. The man’s eyes widened in total shock and Trellan didn’t waste the moment. He dashed forward, grabbing the man by the back of the neck and driving his blade into his throat. His victim’s mouth dropped open and he tried to scream. Only a death rattling gurgle escaped him before he fell to the floor dead.

  Trellan cursed the others for their distraction and stepped over the corpse, heading toward their destination. Of course, the soldiers placed the computer in the very back of the complex. Fortunately, not in the basement. They reached another corridor with several others leading off to the different parts of the complex where the generators operated.

  Trellan kept moving specifically for the security center. He got halfway down the hallway when the alarm went off. So much for subtle. He put his knife away and prepared his submachine gun. The others followed suit, taking his lead when he pressed against a wall. These buffoons probably have no idea what to do in an actual combat situation.

  Bar brawlers and thugs tended to have little in the way of military training and those few who did seemed to forget it. Guards came bursting out into the corridor and Trellan opened fire, discharging several three round bursts into his targets. Of the five who emerged only two survived the opening salvo and they fell back into the safety of where they’d come from.

  Malice started screaming, holding the
trigger down and spraying his entire magazine at the hallway. As his weapon clicked empty, he cursed and started reloading. A man peeked out and took a shot at them but Trellan was already in motion. Hitback stayed close as they reached the wall and momentary safety but Malice was working on his weapon.

  A bullet caught him in the chest and he dropped like a stone, rolling on his side and crying out. Not at all surprising, Trellan thought. Here comes the final shot. Sure enough, the soldier fired three more times and the second one caught the ailing thug in the face, ending his moaning.

  Before the man could withdraw to safety, Trellan fired a single shot into his hand. The man screamed as his weapon fell to the ground and one of his companions leaned out to fire back. Hitback took two shots at the guy, both connecting with his face. Surprising. Maybe Hitback will survive this mission after all.

  “Give it up,” Trellan shouted. “You don’t stand a chance! I know there’s only one of you left in there.”

  “I hear more coming,” Hitback said. “At least half a dozen…maybe more.”

  Trellan glanced at his wrist computer, confirming his companion’s fears. They needed to take out this guy and hurry if they expected to finish the mission at all. Worse still, his computer caught a shuttle approaching, a large military transport. They’d have at least another thirty people if not more to get through.

  This just became a suicide mission. Those bastards!

  “We’re in a lot of trouble,” Trellan muttered, creeping toward the corridor. He raised his voice. “I know you’ve got company on the way but I’m going to tell you this: if you don’t surrender, I guarantee I’ll kill you in a second. Our deaths won’t matter much to you when you’re gone. We already wiped out your buddies. You want to go too?”

  Nothing happened immediately.

  “You have exactly two seconds to drop that gun or I’ll finish this!”