Something caught his eye as he did so. Metal implants and prosthetics on two of the males and possibly the female. Such devices in the Confederation were a rarity. Biodroid prosthetics and/or regrown limbs had replaced the majority of such devices long ago. The Zantli were a slave race to the Terrans, Thal and Pharad, however. Blazer considered that such niceties wouldn’t be afforded to them.
Exiting the tent, Blazer motioned his fireteam towards the next incoming Galactic Federation soldier. They moved out. He checked the command link as they moved. Zithe downed the next target they came up to without breaking stride. All teams were moving in with great efficiency. They dropped any GF soldiers they came upon, pausing only at any occupied tents long enough to give the occupants the same non-verbal commands that he had.
<Intel, update,> he ordered.
Que Dee once again responded. <Feeding GF battlenet false trails. Squad leader sounds like he might be getting suspicious. Possible issue with voice emulation.>
Blazer looked down at Zithe’s latest kill as they passed it. Clad in armor, the long, gangly, tripled jointed arms allowed him to identify it as an Encon. It was no surprise that Que Dee might have had trouble emulating the voice of the double jawed being. <Do your best. Alert me if suspicion turns into action.>
<Copy Lead. Mission update: all patrols cleared.>
Blazer checked his command terminal. Que Dee was right. Only a dozen enemy contacts remained near the largest cluster of refugees. He assigned ready positions to all four fireteams and they moved in. “Slugger One, Rescue Lead, status?”
The lead marine dropship responded back with crisp efficiency. “We have Geffer dropships in sight. Make them to be two Galaxy-4 Class. Small perimeter ground force, but they are unloading heavy tanks and troop carriers. Ready to engage on your signal.”
Considering that, Blazer took his position near the innermost ring of tents. <Big Eye, any sign of more aboard the transport?>
<Drone five has been bouncing a laser off the hull,> Bichard responded. <Vibrations are consistent with a reactor in low output mode. No other movement indicated.>
Blazer scanned the darkened cockpit window above with his rifle. Status lights blinked, but nothing more. As he pulled away a motion drew his rifle back. He kept looking for a long moment, the hint of a shadow appearing to partially eclipse an indicator. He waited, the indicator brightened then darkened again. The lowered intensity matched what he saw. He swallowed and trained his rifle on the individual Que Dee tagged as the Commander, and assigned other targets to the rest of the team. Ready indicators lit up his command interface. “Slugger One, Rescue Lead. All units here are at the ready. We attack as one, starting countdown now.”
“Copy all, Rescue Lead.”
It was the stillness before an assault that always set Blazer’s nerves on edge. A coordinated assault by sixteen units was a thing of wonder when executed correctly. But if even a single player failed at their task then the whole strike could turn against them. As the countdown raced towards zero Blazer took a deep breath and exhaled as slowly as he dared.
Zero.
The Blade Force sprang from their positions and opened fire. Blazer walked three rounds up the Commander’s chest and face. He couldn’t even let out a scream before he collapsed to the ground. Zithe, Arion, Matt, Chris, Hallet and Zanreb were similarly efficient, killing their targets with practiced ease. The rest evidently needed more time on the range. Gokhead had to fire two bursts into his target. His aim had been off since his integration with Que Dee, but it had seemed worse of late. Priest, as usual obsessed with the preservation of life, failed to kill his assigned target. Instead, he assaulted his target with multiple stun blasts. Rudjick, never one much for subtlety poured half his mass-driver magazine into his target. And like Gokhead, Bichard and Gavit also needed to fire multiple bursts at their targets to down them successfully.
Blazer surveyed the scene. Cries of panic and fear rang out from the refugees, but none moved towards them. A good sign. “Rescue Lead, Slugger One, both dropships are down.”
“Rescue Lead copies. Good work. Move into escort position on us. Hold fire until ordered.”
“Slugger One copies, moving in.”
Blazer waited a long pulse, taking the time to survey the scene and his tactical display. Only the contacts from the outer rings of tents moved, and all of them towards the cliff face. <All units, move, keep alert. Something feels off.>
<On that we both agree,> Zithe commented.
Emerging from their hiding places, the Blade Force moved in. Their adaptive camouflage made them look like bits of the tents had come to life. Multiple refugees yelped in surprise, but still more just watched in wide-eyed fascination. The mix of races surprised Blazer. He’d rarely seen so many Federation races in one place before. While a Geffer ship might be crewed by beings from all their member and subjugated worlds, they tended to remain segregated. Unlike on Confed ships, that wasn’t due to differing environmental needs, but by status and societal class. To see a virtual absence of that surprised Blazer.
Tying into the external speakers and pickups of the rest of the team, so as not to identify himself, and to triangulate any responses, Blazer called out. “Stay seated. We are a Confed rescue force, here to get you to safety. We will respond with force to any hostile action. Is that clear?”
Nods and mutters of agreement rang out.
“Good,” Blazer replied and deactivated everyone’s adaptive camouflage, returning their ACHES to their natural black and gray colors. “Now, who’s in charge here?”
A single hand raised from near where the Geffer Commander had stood. Makes sense. “Identify yourself.”
“Captain Sinon,” he called out, looking at each of the Blade Force members in turn.
“How many refugees are amongst you?”
<Three hundred sixty-three,> Que Dee reported.
“I’m not sure,” he replied unsteadily. “We had three hundred eighty-eight when we landed. But, the Federation troops made examples of several, and we lost others to injuries and illness.”
<Give me verifications people,> Blazer ordered.
Images of dead civilians flashed past in the back of his consciousness. Some appeared as if they’d been dead for over a cycle, while others remained warm. The numbers were eight short of the twenty five they needed.
“We’re missing bodies. Do not lie to me,” Blazer called, Zithe’s hand on his hilt.
“Everyone who died before the troops showed up, we put them in the ship. We used the freezer as a morgue.”
“How many?”
Captain Sinon turned towards the woman beside him before he responded. “Seven, we have seven in there.”
“Still short.”
Zithe unclasped the latch on his sword.
“Efrem,” the woman called out. “Efrem ran off the side of the cliff when the troops showed up.”
<Big Eye, confirm.>
A moment later a patch of red appeared in the window on the edge of Blazer’s vision. At the bottom of it, the mangled remains of a body. <Good find.>
“Rescue Lead, Drop One One. We have incoming on sensors. Make it to be at least three, no make that four slipstream contacts, multiple vectors all closing on the planet.”
Damn it all! I knew that this was going too easily, Blazer cursed to himself. “Captain Sinon, we have multiple hostile dropships inbound. What makes you so special?”
“I don’t know,” he called out, voice shaky.
<He’s lying,> both Zithe and Que Dee responded, Zithe ready to unleash his blade.
<That was so obvious even Rudjick could tell,> Arion quipped.
<Button it people. Wolf, get him to talk.>
Zithe broke away and unsheathed his sword, pointing its tip at Captain Sinon. “We do not appreciate liars,” Zithe called from his own speaker.
Nervous murmurs and calls rang out amongst the crowd, the phrase ‘tell them’ chief amongst them. Captain Sinon nodded and hung his shoulders. “Th
e system governor of Betelgeuse is with us, as are several of his staff and intel officers. But they’re disguised, changing their faces to get out undetected.”
<Intel do we have DNA profiles of the governor and those intel officers we were told to watch for?>
<Negative, Lead. Can request, but we don’t have the sensors with us to identify them.>
Of course not.
“They’ll reveal themselves once we’re safely away. You have my word.”
<The word of a Geffer,> Zanreb spat.
<Yeah, that and half a nano-assembler credit will buy you a cup of stim-caff,> Gavit remarked.
Blazer considered his options. Their orders were clear and he had little choice in the matter. Securing the refugees and the high-level officials was their top priority. “Drop One One, Rescue Lead. Move into the cliff face as planned and prepare for extraction. We will secure all refugees in the outriggers until the high-value assets are identified.”
“Copy that Rescue Lead. Gonna be tight in there.”
“All the more reason for them to identify themselves,” Blazer replied and turned back to the refugees. “We are moving towards the extraction point at the edge of the plateau. Stay together and do not run,” Blazer called and signalled Zithe to motion them on.
Zithe and several others motioned the refugees towards the cliff face and the mob moved together in relative ease towards the objective. As they proceeded, Blazer pulled in several of the feeds from the overhead drones. The individual races tended to cluster as they moved, making it easier to make certain identifications possible. The refugees were predominately male, and of adult age with only a handful of females, children, and elders amongst them. It wasn’t the typical refugee makeup. He glanced back at them, more metal prosthetics.
He bounced scans over them as the marine dropships hoved into view, their gimballed engines keeping them hovering through brute thrust instead of their degrav generators. It was an intimidation move, and it worked. Multiple refugees stumbled backwards; several that Blazer could see reached for weapons they didn’t have. Blazer looked towards Captain Sinon. Zithe was still beside him so he hijacked his speaker again. “How many military deserters are amongst your refugees?”
Zithe jerked at that and turned towards Sinon. <Good catch Lead.>
Sinon looked over his shoulder. “At least half, maybe more. I didn’t ask.” He lost a step as he looked back towards his ship. “Think it’ll be possible to get her back? That ship’s been my home for three years now.”
Blazer glanced back towards the transport. As beaten and battered as it was, he could understand why the Captain wanted it back, but he knew that that would never happen. If they left it behind, the inbound Geffer forces would surely destroy it out of spite or tear it apart in an attempt to discover where the refugees had fled to. Still, it was better to give him hope. “Maybe, we’ll see,” he lied and switched over to the tactical link. “Slugger One, once we’re clear, torch that transport and the whole encampment.”
“Already have the plasma cannons armed,” he replied.
A moment later their own dropship rose from the cliff face. The refugees staggered back at the sight, the central fuselage rising above them as the outriggers hung in their lowered positions. The loading ramps at the front of each lowered as the massive dropship crept closer, revealing rows of palletized seats. Blazer felt the hint of a smile cross his lips as the ramps barely kissed the edge of the cliff and he motioned the refugees aboard. “Move, we don’t have much time,” he called from every helmet. <Meds, scan them all as best you can,> he ordered and looked back to his scans.
The power sources within the artificial limbs were more energetic than he would have assumed. He looked at another refugee with an artificial arm as he made his way towards the ramp. His arm had a similar battery pack. The output of the battery might be enough to power a small mass-driver pistol. He didn’t like that. <Weaver, what kind of batteries do Geffers use in their artificial limbs?>
<I wondered when you were going to notice that,> Gokhead replied. <Military grade prosthetics, like most of these we’re seeing, use the same battery pack as a Geffer pistol.>
Blazer caught the twitch of Zithe’s head. <Lead, recommend we remove those power packs immediately.>
<I concur. Meds, what’s the triage report?>
Hallet replied for the team’s medics. <Overall in good health. Some minor vitamin and mineral imbalances, but will need deeper scans to be sure. Several are injured, will need medical attention, and others are running low to medium grade fevers.>
<Are they contagious?> Rudjick asked.
<Did you flunk biology Elf?> Zanreb snapped. <Cross race infections are near impossible, especially across the amino-acid divide.>
<I meant could they get others in their groups sick,> Rudjick snapped.
<Possibly,> Hallet replied, waving Zanreb off. <We’ll administer broad spectrum antibiotics as able. Recommend we get them to a medical facility immediately>
<Understood,> Blazer replied, herding the last of the refugees up the ramps. <Fireteam Two, take the starboard outrigger, Long Shot, go with them. Wolf, join Fireteam Three in the port pod. The rest of you with me, we’ll switch out in a few hects.>
Affirmatives echoed back as the two fireteams with their additionals jumped into the outriggers and the ramps rose. Blazer and the rest held their ground, surveying the scene as the dropship lowered itself, extending the platform that led into the central hold. An uneasy feeling still gripped him as he watched the flaps of the tents dance in the wind. Each shadow remained a potential threat in his mind. Quit jumping at shadows, he told himself as he bounded onto the ramp. “We’re all aboard, let’s get out of here. How long before those contacts arrive?”
“First one just hit orbit on the other side of the planet,” the dropship’s WSO reported. “We have an evasion course plotted.”
“Lead,” Gavit called and shook his shoulder.
“What?”
“You were zoning there for a pulse boss,” Gavit replied. “I’m heading up top. Recommend we go emergency slipstream as soon as we get out of the gravity well. Evasion course or not, if those Geffers know we’re here, they’ll follow and we don’t want to lead them home.”
Blazer nodded and unsealed his helmet. “Concur,” he replied as the dropship twisted beneath his feet and raced ahead, the maglocks in his boots keeping him from falling. “We don’t want any unwanted guests tagging along. And check our mass reading.”
“Why?” Gavit asked.
“Just a feeling.”
UCSB Date: 1006.015
Flight Deck, Dropship-WB-2-01, Drobile System
Two cycles in a dropship with nearly four hundred sentients was no one's idea of a good time, especially for Blazer. He could only imagine how the body odors of so many in the cramped confines had affected Zithe, Hallet, Priest and Bichard with their more sensitive olfactory organs. Standing in the entrance to the flight deck, he looked down into the main bay. It was not nearly as crowded as the outrigger pods, but close to two dozen of the refugees hung in litters as his medics attended to them. And in the middle of the group stood the Betelgeuse system’s governor along with several men and women who’d reported themselves to be intelligence officers.
He’d doubted their stories at first. The evidence of recent cosmetic surgeries to hide their identities, and scans of their DNA, revealed that they were who they claimed to be. Now he just had to inform Captain Sardenon of their demands.
“Officer Vaughnt,” the dropship’s WSO called. “We have your link.”
Blazer nodded and turned about to find a holographic projection of the Captain before him. “Sir!” he called and snapped off a quick Anulian Salu
te, surprised that the dropship had even had that capability.
The Captain returned the gesture. “Your initial report sounds like it was a successful mission. We have transports standing by to relocate the refugees to a safe system after you dock.”
“Does that mean we’re ready to move out?”
“Let me put it to you this way. If you’d have arrived any later you’d have just found the transports.”
“Thank you, sir. I understand. As per my report, we have confirmed the identity of the persons of interest that intel indicated would be amongst the refugees.”
“Excellent, what have you gleaned from them?”
Blazer hated this. They’d gotten nothing. “Sir, they refuse to tell us anything, and will only speak to someone in command.”
The Captain flicked at his nose in disappointment. “You’re telling me that with a Lycan security officer, skilled in interrogation, a psychologist who could lift your dropship at full G, a Lodran Priest that could convince a pathological liar to spill all of his secrets, a Rimdook, and your Coretherian, that you couldn’t even scare them into telling you anything?”
Blazer looked back into the hold. They’d tried all of that to no avail. “Sir, they appear to have advanced anti-interrogation training. They won’t crack for us.” Please don’t tell Tadeh Qudas.
The Captain flicked his nose in thought. “Did they tell you anything about the intelligence they carry?”
That at least made Blazer stand up straighter. “Yes sir. They apparently know the means by which the Barker is predicting jump point positions, and the Governor implied that he may know their communications override code.”