by Aer-ki Jyr
“We’re not outfitted for this,” Derrick reminded him. “And the longer we’re babysitting the more opportunity the enemy has to be mischievous.”
David lightly gnawed on a fingernail as he thought ahead. “Call Glasir. Get them to send dropships straight down here. We’ll offload these people and…trinkets. Green Team will hold this position, Red Team can press on without having to worry about babysitting.”
“We’ll need to disable Tyr security to get the dropships in,” Derrick reminded him.
“Is that a problem?” David said, raising an eyebrow.
“Might be, but we’ll get it done,” the Archon promised, walking off as he contacted his team leader on his suit comm and began making arrangements.
4 hours later…
David jumped behind a crate, skidding to a halt on his knee as three plasma blasts impacted the metal on the other side, melting little divots in the casing with loud ‘pings.’ He held there for a moment, then reached out with his mind to sense the location of the Brazilian security guards as some six of them carefully walked forward, alternating hops from cover to cover, as they closed in on him in an offshoot of the warehouse that he’d fled into while trying to distract a group of the troops away from the hangar loading bay on the other side of the illicit complex.
Security had come down on them half an hour ago, with the Archons holding off the first batch easily, but then the Brazilians had flooded reinforcements in battle armor in, equipped with half shields that made tagging them with stingers extra difficult. Their armor also bled off some of the stun energy, but they were still able to take them down with a couple of shots, as they weren’t yet sure if these were Word operatives or actual loyal Brazilians coopted into fighting a battle they knew nothing about.
Miss me? Nathan’s voice entered David’s head.
David frowned, frustrated but otherwise relieved. What took so long?
Big city, the Archon complained, and carrying your stash through the main hallways isn’t a good idea.
Hurry up, I’m pinned down.
I see them, hold on.
David didn’t have that option, for one of the guards was about to work his way into view on the left. The Archon flicked on his Pefbar, or third eye, and was suddenly able to see around the corner, as well as through the crate and floor. He saw the armored guard pressing forward, holding a stubby plasma rifle of Brazilian make up against the shield he held across his torso, resting the barrel against the rim to help him aim.
David knew he was going to pivot around the edge of the crate and light him up, and the Archon didn’t have a good place to fall back to, so he did the next best thing and smashed his back up against the crate and pointed his stinger, now with only three shots remaining, at the gap the Brazilian was about to come out of.
As he aimed he got a feel for the plasma rifle in his mind and started to form a ring of constriction around the end of the barrel, so when the guard came around the corner, pointing shield and weapon in his direction even before he saw David, the Archon used his Lachka and pulled the plasma rifle’s barrel askew, forcing the guard’s first plasma lance three meters wide of his position.
David held onto the barrel telekinetically, but knew the guard had enough muscle to overpower his grip. Lachka, unlike most scifi movies attested, was very low powered, used more for delicate manipulations than brute force, but in this case it was enough to get the first and second shots to go wide, long enough for two stingers to ping the guard’s helmet and render him unconscious.
He dropped both weapon and shield as he fell to the floor, and David grasped the shield with as much force as he could and telekinetically yanked…
The shield jerked and moved his way a few inches.
David repeated the process again and again, until the leading edge of the shield passed behind the cover of the crate. The Archon reached down to grab it with his left hand just as he felt another guard coming up, about to step on it.
David yanked it up just in time, curling into a ball and emitting a reflexive Fornax field, toppling the second and third guard who couldn’t remain standing against the neural disruption. As the closest guard half fell onto him, David pushed up with the shield and knocked him over, making sure he didn’t step out of cover as he did so.
Coming up for a mental breath, he had to release the Fornax, then spun around and used his last stinger on the guard’s chest.
Duck, Nathan’s telepathic voice ordered.
David trusted him and dropped down onto his heels, hiding behind as much of the shield as he could squeeze his body in line with as the third guard staggered back to his feet and raised his weapon…only to get splattered with green paint from above as a fully armored Nathan jumped down next to David from a higher crate, dropping an armor bundle next to him.
Seeing Nathan’s silver legs walking forward as he began peppering the nearby guards and drawing their attention away from his fellow Archon, David dropped his empty stinger and shield, mentally keeping an eye on the others’ locations as he began tearing into the armor pack and undoing the built in latches.
He pulled the helmet out first and donned it, then unraveled the rest of the 1-piece suit and stepped into the broken boots with the rest of the splayed apparatus connected to them by a back piece. Reaching down he began retracting the components around his feet and legs, locking them in place as he worked his way up his body, pulling all the loose pieces in and forming the armor around him manually, finishing by popping his helmet up a few inches and securing his collar, then bringing it back down and clicking the airtight seals in place.
He stuck his tongue out and tagged an interior helmet switch, turning on the power unit and bringing up his HUD, battlemap, and shields.
“Finally,” he said to himself, feeling the reassuring drag on his body as he reached down and grabbed the Brazilian shield and one of their plasma rifles.
Catch, Nathan said, pulling an extra rifle off his back rack and tossing it high over the crates back his way.
David reached out with his Lachka and directed it towards him so that it fell directly into his hands as he stepped around the crate, leaving the plasma rifle behind. Ducking behind his shield he charged forward, heading towards more of the reinforcements that continued to flood into the warehouse even as Nathan was mowing them down on his left.
Going right, David began firing his own stinger rifle, full of ammo, and rammed into a knot of three of them, not caring that he took a couple of plasma hits to his armor, one of which splashed on his chest shield. He emitted a Fornax field and knocked the surrounding 8 down, peppering their blue armor with green splats and kicking aside their weapons.
“1st dropship is away,” David heard over the comm, tagged as coming from Drake, Red Team’s leader.
“Good,” David said to the emptiness of his helmet as he gratifyingly worked his way through the otherwise competent Brazilian security forces…but they were no match for either the Archons or their stun energy, which bled straight through the Brazilians’ armor, leaving their half shields as their only real defense.
Between the two of them, David and Nathan worked their way through more than 50 Brazilian guards before they ran out of targets in the warehouse, then they ducked into the conveyor belt chutes and walked through into the ‘toy’ factory, coming across another pair before working their way out into the hangar bay.
They saw another dropship, Eagle-class, lifting up off the deck and maneuvering into the vertical shaft that would lead to the airless moon’s surface as soon as they entered, then they picked their way across a landscape of bodies where the other Archons had fought an even larger group of guards. David had pulled reinforcements away from this bunch…or was it that bunch? He wasn’t sure, seeing another group to the side. No, make that three…there were unconscious Brazilians everywhere.
“Status report,” David asked over Green Team’s comm.
“Lio got winged,” Assad answered. “The rest of us are fine.”
“Three shots on the right elbow pit,” Lio answered, and David could detect a bit of pain in his voice. He glanced down at his own armor, seeing the hexagonal flex armor over that portion of his own arm. Each of the tiny plates were solid armor, like the rest of the suit, but they had stretchable material in between them on all the joints, allowing the flexibility the Archons demanded. The gaps in the cover were likewise unacceptable, which was why the armor was layered, with one section of gaps hovering over lower plates, making every inch of their bodies fully protected against plasma and projectiles.
That said, the hexagonal patches were less protected than the thicker portions where they could put down extra mass without it affecting their flexibility. Additionally, the patchwork of weak energy shields over the armor was on the hard points only, meaning the flexible portions weren’t covered. That said, taking a shot to the joints was rare, but it happened. Taking three to the same spot was virtually unheard of.
“Penetration?” David asked, not sure that 3 plasma blasts would be enough to get through.
“No, I just got burnt. There’s still an intact layer left.”
David looked around the huge hangar as he talked, seeing another pair of dropships being loaded up with both bodies and cargo they’d taken from the facility. He wished they’d be able to go over it all with an investigation team, but as soon as the dropships were away they’d be returning to ghost status, given that they were on enemy turf. So long as the Brazilian guards were fighting them, they had to play a different type of game, given that rescuing them was also one of their mission priorities.
“We’ll be finished here soon,” David promised, knowing that Lio was going to be underpowered simply from the pain distracting him. “Anyone have any active contacts?”
“We’re clear here,” Jet answered, “for the moment.”
“Red Team has some activity,” Brad-1044 said, and David could see that his locator icon wasn’t in the hangar.
He switched frequencies. “Red Team, status?”
“Cleaning up a few stragglers,” Drake answered. “I don’t think they’ve got much left in this section of the city to throw at us. Linger much longer and that could change. They’re sending mostly scouts in now, trying to determine how they got their asses kicked so bad, I’d guess. What’s the status on the dropships?”
“Two to go.”
“We’ll keep you clear. Do what you need to do then get out.”
“Will do,” David agreed, switching back to his teamcomm. “Anyone packing Word weaponry?”
“These look like Tyr security standards,” Devin answered. “They’re not the same as the ones we found on site.”
“Anyone disagree with that?”
David didn’t get an answer, so he assumed that was a negative.
“Jet, Seraph…start working on our exit,” he said, kneeling down next to one of the bodies.
“Copy.”
David pulled the clear visor/helmet off, revealing a buzz cut on what looked to be an older man, though from the Archon’s point of view that was almost a joke. Nathan stepped in and picked up the weapons nearby, moving them out of reach as David pressed the forearm of his own armor against the man’s neck, using it to absorb the lingering stun energy in his body and slowly bring him back to consciousness.
“Stay put,” David ordered when the man finally came around, planting a hand against his armored chest to emphasize the point, while in the background another dropship lifted off, with a group of Star Force personnel loading up the last. “What’s your name?”
The man’s eyes flicked around, seeing Nathan beside him. Both Archons were armed and armored head to toe, with several others visible across the deck…along with the bodies of his fellow Brazilians.
“Hey!” David repeated, having his free hand in front of the man’s face. “If you don’t want to talk I can knock you out and wake one of them up.”
“What did you shoot me with?”
“Stun,” David said simply. “Them too. None of you are dead. That’s us being nice.”
“Nice?” the guard asked, not believing he’d heard him right.
“Yeah, nice. We came here to rescue you guys, after all. And here you are shooting plasma at us.”
The Brazilian’s face screwed up. “What are you talking about?”
“First things first,” David slowed him down. “A Brazilian assault force was sent here about a year ago to remove a group of insurgents. What happened to them?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. The only insurgents we’ve seen are you. What is Star Force doing here?”
“How long have you been on Tyr?” David asked, ignoring him.
“13 years.”
“And you know nothing about 500 troops coming into the city about a year ago?”
“No,” he growled.
David pointed a finger over to the dropship as the last of the equipment was being loaded. “We have some of them onboard. They were drugged and being loaded into cargo canisters…far less than 500. I’ve got positive genetic IDs on 32 of them, given to us by your government. This moon has gone rogue. Brazil sent the troops here to reclaim it and they didn’t report back, so they asked us for help. So tell me, who’s giving the orders around here.”
“Nothing has changed here,” the guard said, his face frowning up with wrinkles. “And all I see you taking is our property.”
“This entire complex doesn’t exist on the city map,” David argued with him, not wanting to have to try his luck with another, because they really did need to get moving. “This stuff belongs to an enemy of ours that appears to have quietly taken over control of the moon. We’re here to take it back, at Brazil’s request. Now, you can oppose us and hope we continue to be…nice…or you and your buddies can think things through once they wake up and stay out of our way.”
Behind David the dropship crew ran aboard and the boarding ramp sealed up, with the Archon glancing over his shoulder and watching as it rose up on its anti-grav and slowly made its way over to the vertical shaft, all the while holding the guard down with a firm hand to the chest.
He turned his helmet back, knowing it was time to leave. “You’re fighting on the wrong side. Get wise to it before you get hurt.”
David stood up and ran off, with Nathan hesitating a moment to make sure the guard didn’t move, then he followed him off as the rest of Green Team quickly disappeared out side exits from the hangar.
The guard sat on the deck until the Archons had left, then he stood up and retrieved his helmet, put it on and activated the comm.
“They’re gone,” he reported, speaking the native Portuguese. “Our men are down, but only stunned. One of them talked to me. They’re trying to turn us and reclaim Tyr for Brazil.”
He remained silent, listening to the comm as he looked around, seeing none of the others waking up and wondering how long it would take. Typically Star Force stingers kept one out for several hours, but if they were only winged they could be back up, wobbily, within minutes.
“They took cargo out on the dropships, including some Human captives,” he said, unconcerned as to who the people were. “They know the captured troops are among them. They had a genetic test match done.”
Another pause of silence.
“Copy that,” The Word operative finished, walking over and retrieving one of the plasma rifles the Archons had left piled up on the deck.
7
May 12, 2430
Alpha Centauri System
Glasir
“Easy now…lie still until your head clears,” a voice said as the man blinked bleary eyes on the way back to consciousness. “You’re safe here, so take your time.”
The man stirred, rolling over on his side as the Star Force medic placed a hand on his shoulder to keep him from rolling off the cushioned medical table.
“Easy,” she insisted. “Can you see me?”
A pair of fingers waved across
his face, drawing his attention and stopping most of his movement.
“There…that’s better,” she said calmly. “Do you remember your name?”
The man didn’t say anything, still blinking as if his eyes were windows that he couldn’t get the rain off of.
“Your name,” the medic repeated, still gently holding him down with her hand.
“Maa…” he said, finding his voice too hoarse to finish.
“You’ve been sedated for a very long time,” she explained. “It may take a bit for your voice to come back.”
Beside her another medic walked up, one of higher rank and some 70 years older, who slipped a hand underneath his shoulder blades and began to lift.
“Try and sit up,” he instructed, with the female medic retracting her hand. He glanced up at her and whispered, “Vertical requires balance, and will force more mental activity.”
She nodded, moving her hand over to the man’s arm and helping to secure him in an upright position.
“Can you flex your hand?” she asked, lifting his wrist up in front of his chest where he could see it.
His eyes tracked down, and while his head bobbled a bit his fingers slowly contracted, then extended three times. “Whe..a..mi?”
“The planet Glasir,” the female said as the more experienced medic walked off to attend to other patients, his task done. “You’re in a Star Force medical bay. Clan Alterra to be precise. Can you raise your head and look at the ceiling for me?”
The man blinked some more, then slowly lifted his chin up and stared at the slate gray paneling with a scattering of tiny light orbs that hurt his eyes, despite the fact that they were diffuse.
“That’s good, now look at me if you can.”
His head came back down and twisted to the right, staring into the cute blonde’s blue eyes. “Ma…nfred. Man..fred Nor..el.”
The medic smiled. “Very good. We’ve flushed the sedative from your system, but trace amounts will remain until your body processes them out. The more active you can be the faster it will happen, so keep moving your head and hands,” she said while keeping a hand on his back for support.