Drop Team Zero

by Jake Bible

  His body adjusted to the new surroundings and he was a split second swirl of colors and textures as he moved from one position to the next. To any observer, it would have looked like a piece of the palace itself had detached and gone for a quick stroll across the hall before reattaching itself to the new spot. But no one was watching and Cookie timed it perfectly before the next servant came around the far corner down the hall.

  Once that servant had passed him and entered the grand ballroom, he craned his neck so he could see what he already knew was true.

  Skrangs.

  There was a small contingent of Skrang officers standing close to the front table that overlooked the dance floor. A good number of guests were busy getting their boogie on while the Skrangs stood around the man of the palace, Sha Morgoal. No one seemed to mind or care that officers of the Skrang Alliance were present and talking directly to the head of one of the larger crime organizations in the galaxy. After centuries of War between the Skrang Alliance and the Galactic Fleet, it would be hard to surprise anyone of anything anymore.

  Even still, the War Treaty signed by both sides explicitly stressed that in order for peace to be maintained, neither side would engage with the galaxy’s criminal element. That way, the criminals could not be hired and used as fighting proxies for either side. For Geist to see such a blatant disregard for that provision of the treaty meant the Skrangs either weren’t interested in using Sha Morgoal’s resources for a shadow war…

  Or they were perhaps the real reason Drop Team Zero was on a crud planet to rescue some Fleet councilman’s brat.

  Geist’s questions were answered as six of Sha Morgoal’s henchmen, all of various races and species, shoved said brat through a side door and towards the Skrangs. They turned as one and their lizard eyes widened in surprise. Geist could see that clear as day even though the days on Monia’Ja were far from clear considering the ever-present noxious cloud cover. But the lighting in the grand ballroom was superb.

  It was obvious the Skrangs were not expecting to see the councilman’s son there. They straightened and hissed, growling in their guttural language to each other as they looked from the brat to Sha Morgoal and back.

  The crime lord laughed at their expressions and patted his wide belly. He certainly wasn’t one of those crime lords that liked to get his hands dirty out in the field. No, he had given that up years before and had spent those years eating and whoring his way through his vast riches. Still, even with the constant overindulgence, it was not easy for a Slinghasp to attain even a fraction of the bulk he had. Slinghasps were a snake-like race and made of pure muscle. Sedentary wouldn’t even come close to describing his lifestyle for him to be as obese as he was.

  Yet, he was still a Slinghasp, and strength was that race’s main asset. Besides a strange need to always be helpful, which Sha Morgoal obviously had overcome.

  The crime lord stood and he towered over the tallest of the Skrangs by half a meter. The lizard men jumped as he barked an order to his henchmen and they dragged the councilman’s brat closer. Geist couldn’t hear what they were saying, and he couldn’t read their lips with any accuracy even when he tried to dial in his focus with both eyes for a closer look.

  “Excuse me,” a voice said from Geist’s shoulder. “You wanna tell me whatya doin’ here?”

  Geist froze. It was like every molecule in his body no longer moved. Tcherian physiology was not just about visual camouflage, but also about having total control over one’s physical being. If one of the guests decided to put a hand on him and lean there for an hour, thinking they were leaning against a wall, Geist would have been able to stay as he was indefinitely. Geist would be that wall until he no longer needed to be that wall.

  So he was more than shocked to find a Leforian standing next to him, its insectile eyes wide open with confusion. But Geist didn’t break his cover, he maintained the illusion of being the wall and waited. The Leforian frowned, its mandibles drooping slightly in the hangdog way Leforians have. Looking like a cross from between a seven-foot-tall beetle and a Great Dane, Leforians were very good at the hangdog expression.

  “I said, excuse me,” the Leforian repeated. “Is there something I can help you with? You are obviously in full-camouflage mode, so perhaps you have been spooked. If there is a threat here in the palace, I would be happy to alert the guards and tell—”

  “Spying on my ex,” Geist said, clearly not able to keep up the ruse any longer. Leforians were notorious busybodies and Geist knew he wasn’t getting rid of the bug dog anytime soon. “She’s sitting over there, by the Plutonian.”

  “Oh, I understand that,” the Leforian said as he turned his carapace so he could get a better look at the guests inside the grand ballroom. “Once, my ex-wife took away visitation privileges from me. I couldn’t see our brood for six months. I swear, they grew ten sizes by the time I got to hug those eight little buggers in my arms again. Matters of the heart… Hold on here.”

  Geist swallowed hard. He readied his talons and held his hands down close to his sides, his arms set to strike.

  “That woman there? The human? Are you saying she is seeing that Plutonian?” the Leforian asked. “That would be a strange coupling since Plutonians are completely made of mercury. One kiss and she would—”

  The Leforian gasped as Geist brought his right hand up, burying the four talons right between the cracks in the front plates of the Leforian’s carapace. The thing gasped then shook as its thick, oddly colored blood leaked out from its chest and down Geist’s arm.

  “That…was…rude…” the Leforian gasped as he grabbed Geist with all four of his hands.

  “Sorry,” Geist whispered, as one by one the four hands lost their strength and let go.

  The Leforian went limp and Geist caught him before he could hit the floor and alert the wedding guests that maybe things weren’t as party-hearty as they seemed. Then an idea hit him as he slowly lowered the dead Leforian to the floor. Maybe the busybody was still of some use.

  Geist threw the body as far into the grand ballroom as he could. The corpse slammed into the tank of a Nemorian woman. The water nymph shrieked and all eyes turned on her as she pushed herself to the far side of the tank, putting as much space between her and the Leforian corpse as possible.

  The grand ballroom erupted into panic and confusion. Geist took that opportunity to make his move and he slipped inside the ballroom. As guards rushed to the corpse, Geist made his way along the wall, his body morphing to match the changing surfaces he slipped by.

  He knew Motherboard would be pissed about the change in plans, but he needed the noise and confusion to cover the sound of his voice as he called in what he saw.

  Five

  “Come again?” Motherboard asked, her eyes studying the readings in front of her. Massive movement throughout the palace. All because Geist decided to improvise. “Speak up, dammit, I can’t understand you.”

  “The target is not in the detention wing of the palace,” Geist said over the com. “He’s standing about twelve meters in front of me with a bunch of goons surrounding him while a group of Skrangs argue with the big boss himself.”

  “This was never a kidnapping for ransom,” Motherboard said. “This was a snatch and grab in order to sell the kid to the highest bidder.”

  “That’s what it looks like,” Geist said. “We need to rework the op.”

  “Yes, I am aware of that,” Motherboard said. “Hole?”

  “I’m here,” the android replied. “I’m processing new scenarios right now.”

  “Are any of those scenarios going to take place in the next few seconds?” Wanders asked. “Because we have three more vehicles coming in from the east. Small shuttles, dingy-looking. I’d say they’re either marauders coming out of the ether to make a play or… Crud. Edgers. We have Edgers coming in.”

  “Edgers?” Motherboard asked. “Sha Morgoal is really playing it hard if he’s engaging the Skrangs and the Edgers. Those lizard crudholes I understand, but
to bring in the anarchistic separatists? I think he’s more confident in his hostage’s worth than even the kid’s own family is.”

  “What’s the order, LT?” Mug asked. “Am I going in and crushing some thugs or do we wait?”

  “Your cover is still intact, Geist?” Motherboard asked.

  “No one is even looking my way in all this chaos,” Geist replied.

  “Hole?” Motherboard asked. “You have boots on the ground. What’s your call?”

  “Cookie is in the vents right now, so he’s no use to us until he gets free,” Hole says. “Even still, the numbers are overwhelmingly against us. With a Skrang presence detected, this could turn into a galactic incident in a microsecond if not handled properly.”

  “So we go in with rifles blazing, snatch the kid, get the fo out of there, and let the bigwigs sort it all out later?” Mug asked.

  “Since every other scenario I can come up with results in our detection anyway,” Hole replied, “then stealth is more of a liability than it is worth. On my mark, we hit the palace, make our way to Geist and the kid, then fight our way back out and get gone ASAP.”

  “Get gone?” Geist chuckled. “You’re starting to sound a little folksy there, Hole.”

  “It makes me more approachable,” Hole replied. “I’m taking lessons from Mug.”

  “Damn straight you are,” Mug said.

  “Approachable? Yeah, right. You keep thinking that, metal lady,” Geist chuckled some more. He stopped chuckling abruptly. “Uh oh. I’ve been made. You folks may want to do that hitting of the palace a lot sooner than later.”

  There was the sound of angry shouting, loud enough to be heard over the chaos of the other guests, and Geist’s com suddenly went dead.

  “Geist?” Motherboard called out. She played with the com console in front of her, but couldn’t get him back on. “Crud! Drop Team Zero, I am giving the order for a full assault. Get in there, get the target, save Geist’s ass, and get back out. I’m bringing the Eight-Three-Eight down out of the clouds and will meet you at the LZ. Understood?”

  The Team responded as one with a resonant, “Hooah!”

  Motherboard smiled and disengaged the ship’s stasis mode, bringing it around to bear on the landing zone’s coordinates. She also brought up the full-weapons array and double checked that defensive shields were at full power. She was not going to underestimate the palace’s offensive capabilities, not with the wealth and resources at Sha Morgoal’s hands.

  Six

  As he watched Mug move across the palace grounds towards the main entrance at a speed that defied her metric-ton bulk, and her custom-made and -sized RX31 plasma assault rifle that was to her shoulder, firing at anything and everything that turned in her direction, Wanders knew his job was to make sure the huge Urvein had as clear a path as possible. That wasn’t an easy job since the smallest of the Urvein race made a grizzly bear look average.

  Wanders sighted through the multi-spectrum scope of his Tonal Five sniper rifle and picked off target after target, turning their bodies into vaporized mist to join the already offensive atmosphere of the planet. A head pop here, a belly explosion there, then complete disintegration as the molecular disruptor slugs went to work on the unfortunate targets’ bodies at a cellular level.

  “You have five coming in on your three, Mug,” Wanders said, his rifle’s algorithms calculating the angle needed to take out the majority of Mug’s attackers. Not that Wanders needed the algorithms to do his job. They were there mostly to confirm what his vast skills and instincts had already told him the second he sighted on the targets. “I can take three, but two will make it to you before I can change directions.”

  The three dropped one after the other as Wanders squeezed the rifle’s trigger with a calm and ease very few shooters in the galaxy could maintain. The two that he couldn’t take down began to fire on Mug, their plasma carbines not doing much more than pissing off the sprinting Urvein. Wanders squeezed the trigger a fourth time and one of the two henchmen became a purple-hued cloud of bloody particles.

  The last attacker made it to Mug and dove at her, his arms extending way longer than they should have been able to.

  “Mug! It’s a Halgon! Are you hearing me? Do not let that rubber foing thing grab you!” Wanders yelled into the com.

  But it was too late. The Halgon henchman used his species’ deadly elasticity to stretch both arms all the way around Mug as he collided with the huge bear of a soldier. Wanders heard a distinct “oof” come from Mug over the com then a snarling growl and cry of pain as the henchman took her down to the ground, his arms winding and winding over and over again to completely encircle the Urvein.

  “Mug!” Wanders yelled, trying desperately to get a bead on the Halgon without risking hitting Mug. But there was no shot and Wanders had to turn his attention to the other henchman that were closing in fast. “Hole!”

  “I see her,” Hole replied, “but I need to get to the entrance on my side of the palace. She is keeping the guards’ attentions diverted and I have only one shot at this.”

  “Eight Million Gods, you cold, lifeless—” Wanders started but was quickly cut off.

  “Do it, Hole,” Motherboard ordered. “We have an op to finish here. Mug knows the risks. Wanders, you are no longer effective in your current position. I want you to fall back and move to the landing lot. Take out any and all guests that try to leave the palace grounds. We are going to lock this place down until we get what we want.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Wanders replied through gritted teeth. He squeezed off six more shots, and six guards blew apart, before he lurched up to his feet and began to sprint towards the landing lot, his rifle gripped in two hands while he pulled his KL09 heavy pistols from his belt and wielded them with his other two hands. Wanders was a Gwreq, a race of four-armed, stone-skinned warriors that were known more for their crushing and smashing fighting techniques than for deadly accuracy with firearms. But such was Drop Team Zero, a group of outliers and misfits within their own races that found a place amongst the elite fighters in the Galactic Fleet.

  He moved as fast as possible, dropping down to hide behind an ancient and crumbling rock wall, before bringing his rifle to bear on the landing lot. The Edgers’ three dingy shuttles came to rest and four separatists hopped out of each vehicle, fully armed and ready for a fight. Wanders took a second to size up the situation then opened fire, sending a third of the Edgers scrambling back into their vehicles, a third diving to the ground for cover, and a third exploding into bloody nothingness.

  “Landing lot secured,” Wanders called. He repositioned himself so he had a better sightline with the palace’s landing lot exits. If anyone came out of those doors, they’d be met with two choices: go the fo back inside or end up with a gloomy landing lot as the last thing they ever saw. “I don’t have eyes on Mug. Tell me she’s okay.”

  “Oh, I’m good, brother,” Mug growled over the com.

  Seven

  “Don’t you worry your sniper head none about me, Wanders,” Mug said. “This ain’t my first Halgon I’ve had to tussle with.”

  Mug strained against the ever-enveloping grip of the elastic henchman. The thing may not have been the first Halgon Mug had to tussle with, but that didn’t mean the tussle was an easy one. Mug’s drop suit was keeping the Halgon’s toxins from getting through to her, but the beeping in her helmet made it perfectly clear that a suit breach was imminent.

  “Hey, Stretch FoStrong!” Mug roared. “Get the fo off me!”

  She was able to get her massive legs underneath her and she stood up with a burst of strength that sent her boots sinking into the damp ground almost up to mid-calf. The Halgon spit at her helmet, his saliva smoking and hissing against her protective faceplate. Mug only smiled in response.

  “That ain’t very polite now,” Mug said as she took a deep breath, letting the air fill her lungs and expand her suit out around her chest.

  She breathed deeper and deeper and watched as the Halgon
had to expand with the suit. When she couldn’t take in any more air, Mug did something that was strictly against every safety protocol ever taught to a Fleet Marine. She simultaneously exhaled her entire breath while activating her drop suit’s atmospheric purge protocol, sending not just her massive exhalation out into the planet’s environment, but most of her suit’s air supply.

  Mug achieved two things with this move: she got one serious head rush, and the sudden shrinking of her drop suit left the Halgon stretched out like a sad, useless rubber band. Mug did not hesitate for a second and closed off her purge valve with one huge hand while griping the Halgon’s neck with the other. She yanked the henchman free and whipped his entire body out and away from her, like snapping a damp towel in the locker room back at Galactic Fleet headquarters.

  The Halgon screeched as his body betrayed him and his internal organs tried to go in two different directions at the same time. Mug gripped the henchman’s neck tighter, sending the fluids it called blood ballooning into the thing’s skull. When it looked like the Halgon’s head would explode, Mug threw it to the ground and executed one, single stomp.

  There was a loud pop and fluids shot in every direction.

  Mug snorted and walked away, wiping the bottom of her boot on the loose dirt of the palace grounds, a self-satisfied smirk on her face.

  The smirk slipped slightly as eight more guards came rushing out of the palace and straight at her. She started to run, picking up speed as she hurled her bulk towards the guards. Mug didn’t even bother bringing up her rifle to fire since she knew she’d be closing the distance between herself and the guards faster than she could aim.

  As she closed on the guards, they brought up their rifles and carbines and opened fire. Mug dove to the ground, executing a leaping roll that someone her size should not have been able to accomplish with as much grace as she did. Again, she was as much an outlier amongst her race as the other members of Zero amongst theirs.