HASARASJoin Date: 2010-02-26
Post Count: 2330 |
(This turned out a..."small bit" longer than I expected. Hope none of the changes are too radical for the story.)
UDD Building
Approximately ten minutes before Free Silentian Assault
"...and then he grabs the guy, who's a three star general, mind you, and just starts punching him in the throat, the whole time yelling 'YAH PLAHN IS GERBERGE! YAH PLAHN IS GERBERGE!' over and over and over!" Laughter spread among the four men crammed inside the small guard station as the Master Sergeant finished his story. Posters, playing cards, and other various items were strewn across the place, giving the cramped space a homely and welcoming vibe in sharp contrast to the rest of the compound. Sure, a strict and vigilant superior officer would give many reprimands, but when their section's Lieutenant was in on the fun, there wasn't much you couldn't get away with. Not like there was much else to do out at the front checkpoint, either.
"Excuse me?"
The laughter ceased as the soldiers swung to face the direction of the noise. Standing about twenty meters away was a young woman gazing intently at them. She was of a small build and height, no older than twenty-five, with a smile emblazoned across her striking face, obscured partially by a messy head of brown hair. Her otherwise cute appearance was offset by her attire, a dark jacket and heavy clothing more suited to a dealer than a woman wandering the streets. She stood under a streetlight just across the road, the glittering New Kronan skyline silhouetting the dark scene. As they stared each other down, the woman tilted her head.
"I was wondering if this was the place where the Secretary of Defense resides?"
The Master Sergeant put on a friendly demeanor and smiled, walking to the front of the station. Signaling behind his back, however, what they all knew;
LIKELY AMBUSH. PROCEED WITH CAUTION, MOVE TO ALERT LEVEL 2.
The Lieutenant sent a visible signal, multiple flashes of light, to the other guard posts and units. Within seconds well over a dozen rifles were trained on the possible threat, as well as an APC rolling towards the third wall for fire support. As she began to slowly walk towards the guard post, the soldiers readied their weapons out of sight. Better to keep up the illusion of
"That it is, ma'am. Any way we can help you today? Hate to say it, but this area's restricted, so if you're looking for an interview or a picture, I'm afraid that's not allowed."
"No no no, it's fine. Just here to send a message." As she finished she ripped the jacket open, revealing a wide aray of explosives underneath. A particuarly large one was displayed prominently on her chest, repeatedly blinking. One of the Zeta guards instinctively put up a forcefield and the soldiers dove for cover.
"The people will be free, you sons of-" Her words were cut short as multiple holobolts tore through her, leaving little of her torso or head behind. The lifeless corpse fell to the ground, and for a moment the tension was beginning to fade.
Then the dead man's trigger went off, and everything went to hell.
Emil
The serene night atmosphere was immediately obliterated, replaced by an intense noise seemingly louder than God himself. The fireball illuminated the area for hundreds of meters around, leaving the darkness well in the past. At the same moment Phantasm detonated the breaching charge he'd set on the rear wall, the disintegration's comparatively mewling noise nothing against the roar of the explosion. He and Meridian immediately charged through, knowing there would be very little outward resistance to the rear. This fact was solidified by the barrage pf holoMGs erupting across the compound as the coordinated assault began, with rounds and grenades flying into the area. It didn't take long for the Union personnel to return the favor, and in seconds a full-scale firefight had erupted, with what had only recently been relative peace and quiet blown into total chaos. At least, the illusion of it. In fact, what appeared from the outside to be a ragtag freedom fighter group launching a half-assed, barely planned assault was calculated from the start. The blast radius of the explosion was made large enough to mask the both the firing of the EMP to knock out their systems and the disintegration charge, but small enough so no serious danger of death faced the Union elites. Their employer had specifically stated to go completely nonlethal to preserve the skill and equipment of the men; that is, with one exception.
"Watch it, Meridian. Sounds like you're getting awfully close to some of them." Phantasm commented as he thrusted into cover against a large supply container. Meridian made a pouty face at him from behind a parked APC, now disabled.
"Relax, old bones. Trust my aim, aight?" As she finished, Phantasm held up his fist, the motion for silence. Seconds later a six-man group sprinted past, weapons raising as they turned towards the breach. The pointman motioned, splitting three fingers. The group broke into two-man elements, two circling around two supply containers towards the breach while the pointman and another moved directly down them.
"...can't be a coincidence. Try the radio again." The pointman whispered. He was fairly concealed to the left of the furthermost squad, and Meridian...where the hell was she? A motion caught his eye. God damnit, she wasn't actually going to-
"HI-YA!"
The six men swiveled to see Meridian, holding a mobile shield, swinging around a baton and making various martial-arts themed noises.
"Whoacha! Ayayayaya, kra-ta! Hooooo-"
A shotgun blast interrupted her tirade, throwing the shield out of her hands and sending her spiraling. At that same moment, Meridian attacked.
"Nobody shoots me!" She-they, shouted, as two separate Meridians emerged from cover. Their silenced holoMGs spat rounds as the Union soldiers scrambled into cover from the onslaught. Fully-automatic fire wasn't particuarly accurate, but it didn't matter. Packing custom-made stun rounds from another of their employer's Lone Wolf teams, "Science!", only a glancing blow was needed. Once they made contact with any Union armor, the entire suit was used against them, conducting and amplifying the stun straight into the soldier inside. Two went down before the rest scrambled into cover, and then Phantasm took his turn.
He leapt on top of the crate, rolling down straight on top of the only remaining two-man team. He used his thruster to push one into the ground at a speed where he would be knocked out, but not receive permanent damage. Gripping the other in a half bear-hug from behind, he used the man's shoulder as a mount to take down the remaining man to the right with his holorifle. He used the jolt of the recoil to throw his victim off balance, giving him a perfect shot to deliver a direct headshot on the remaining man, sending his sprinting form into the window of a jeep. That had to sting.
"Ack, who the hell?!" His victim managed to gasp before a stun baton crashed into his headpiece, sending him hard enough into the supply container to make a dent. Phantasm stepped back, and surveyed the scene. Two wisps of light flew from behind one of the containers as they returned to Meridian. She was off the ground, shield on her back as she touted her MG.
"Took ya long enough, slowpoke." She teased. He sighed and ran up to her.
"We don't have much time. Your clones won't last much longer in that fight." He turned and faced the main building. An intimidating three story-structure, with an insitutionalized and blocky design. The Secretary's office was on the third floor, the only way in being the main entrance and elevator, or the roof. Eyeing the reinforced window, made to withstand a tank shell, he used his power. Their original plan wasn't going to work in time, so he had a different idea.
"Meridian, I need a boost." He grabbed the folded railgun off of his side, snapping it into its full length and turning on the power.
"What do you-Ooooooooh. Think it'll work?" She asked, moving to the bottom of the building .
"Let's find out."
Firing his thrusters at max, he flew across the yard. As he reached Meridian she sent out a clone, hands outstretched. He fired his thrusters again, charring the clone as he sailed to the wall. His momentum kept him moving up until the window, where he spun off, stretching his legs out from the building as he brought the railgun to bear. He pulled the trigger, the round charging as he lost his momentum and began to fall.
The recoil sent his arms crashing towards his chest as the round fired, the spinning projectile easily penetrating the window and shattering the integrity. He negated his upper body movement with his wrist-mounted propulsion, at the same time firing his lower body systems to send him careening through the penetrated wreckage of the window. Several guards stood in temporary shock, only a tiny hallway between him and the entrance to the conference room. He used his power, and determined the best course of action for a nonlethal takedown of the security force. Rather than waste time drawing his weapons, he dropped the railgun and vaulted as he hit the ground, his momentum taking him almost directly to the troops. His perception allowed him visual of the three rounds fired so far, arcing his back so they flew over him. And then he was upon them, lashing out with his stun baton, thrusting a man into a wall, slapping a shotgun so it blew through the thin roof. The baton ricocheted off one man's armor and into the next, a dangerous dance as Phantasm spun and struck with precision and grace. The seconds seemed to collapse into a blur, and then he was standing over a pile of men, on the floor, out cold.
Drawing his nano-knife, Phantasm slit open the door locks and pulled the pin on a flash grenade, waiting 4 seconds before he dropped it in. The burst of sound echoed as it went off, leaving him free to stroll in. Around him stood cringing and writhing Union soldiers, from Zetas to high command. Those not already out of commission were swiftly put down by several stun rounds from his weapon, leaving only one man in good condition.
The Secretary of Defense sat at the head of the table, an ornate chair holding his presence, quivering hand weakly holding an autopistol towards Phantasm. The pudgy man was almost hyperventilating, shifty eyes looking around for any chance of assistance, any sign of escape. He had made sure there were none.
"D-d-don't do this, Phantasm. You're a good agent, there's no need-" The secretary attempted to fire the weapon midsentence, his finger not even reaching the trigger before a stun round slapped it out of his hand. He screeched, recoiling as Phantasm stood on the table, slowly approaching.
"Amateur tactic. Then again, coming from you, I'm not surprised." Emil stopped in front of the man, weakly shaking his head.
"Tell me. How does a quivering," He leaned in. "Disgusting," He brought the holorifle to the man's chin. "Utterly pathetic child like yourself get such an important position?" The secretary opened his mouth, attempting to speak, but only whimpering noise came out.
"Pathetic. Was it favoritism? I heard you and the leadership have been pretty tight for a while. Bribery? Maybe you're a good speaker. Maybe your anti-silentian attitude and complete disregard for your people's lives? I don't know what it is, but you sure as hell are NOTHING!" He slammed his hand into the man's jaw, knocking him from the chair. "NOTHING WORTHY OF SUCH A TITLE, YOU WEAK, DECREPIT, PILE OF GARBAGE!" Phantasm pounced on the man, slapping aside a quailing hand as he gripped the Secretary's neck, beginning to squeeze.
"You are a disgrace, and...and I think I'll enjoy this more than I should." Silence prevailed then, only broken by the occasional gasp from the man on the ground as his windpipe began to collapse.
"Burn in hell."
The Secretary gave one final buck, one final push against the force holding him down, one last honest effort, maybe even the first he'd ever made. It was useless, and he flopped down, the light slowly draining from his eyes. A smile appeared inside Emil's mask, standing up and patting his gloves together. Good riddance.
"Don't move!" Emil snapped his head to the side. Soldiers stood, facing him, weapons raised. At least six, with some others beginning to recover from the flash. He stood, arms outstretched as a strange since of apathy overcame him. His combat urge was over, a longtime goal of his finally complete, and now he just felt tired. Almost ready for what would come, if not now then inevitably later and was there really any poi-
"SOLDIERS OF THE UNION." A metallic voice boomed from outside of the compound, aircraft engines thrumming. The men lowered their weapons and turned their attention to the conference room window, a large hole from what was presumably a disintegration grenade. Emil looked with them, and remembered the plan. Right, the plan, what the hell had he been thinking. Focus. Just focus.
"YOU HAVE BEEN BETRAYED. LIED TO. MISTREATED. UNJUSTLY HARMED." The voice rang out as a flight of three dropships, marked with colors neither Union nor rebel, came into view, landing in the courtyard. Out came multiple figures, all but one in some sort of power armor. The one in the middle held his arms out, speaking into what must have been an ear mic.
"FOR YEARS, THE CORRUPT UNION HAS KILLED MILLIONS OF THOSE WHO OPPOSED THEM, SENDING MEN LIKE YOU, YOUR FRIENDS, YOUR FAMILES, TO DIE FOR THEIR OWN GREED, WANTS, AND DESIRES. THEY RESERVED THE BEST OF YOU FOR PROTECTING THEMSELVES, WHILE THROWING THE INTERESTS AND SAFETY OF THE PE0PLE TO THE WIND! THEY DO NOT CARE ABOUT YOU, OR ANYONE BUT THEMSELVES! TO THEM, YOU ARE NOTHING!"
The assembled soldiers, both inside and out, murmured. There were no shouts of disagreement, no boos or negation. They knew it was true.
"THE VAST MAJORITY OF YOU KNOW THE WRONGS OF THIS INEFFICIENT, CORRUPT, USELESS GOVERNING BODY. IT SICKENS YOU TO THINK OF SPENDING THE REST OF YOUR LIVES SERVING THESE BUREAUCRATS AND POLITICIANS WHO USE THE MILITARY AS NOTHING MORE THAN A TOOL FOR SERVING THEIR OWN NEEDS. LOOK INSIDE, THINK SOMETHING OTHER THAN WHAT YOU ARE TOLD. YOU KNOW THIS TO BE TRUE. IT IS NOT A TRUTH WE WANT TO FACE-SO FEW REAL TRUTHS ARE. BUT IT IS A TRUTH WE HAVE TO. FOR DECADES WE HAVE SIMPLY BEEN SURVIVING, WITH HUMANITY ALWAYS A COUPLE WARS AWAY FROM EXTINCTION. I ASK YOU NOW, WARRIORS, HUMANS, SILENTIANS, EVERYONE, TO CAST ASIDE YOUR PREVIOUS ALLEGIANCES. LET HUMANITY BE RID OF THIS ENDLESS CYCLE OF DEATH, OF LOSS, OF DEFEAT NOT OF THE ENEMY, BUT OF OURSELVES. INSTEAD, LET THE PLANETS OF OUR SPECIES UNITE UNDER A BODY THAT REPRESENTS ALL OF US! NOT JUST THE POLITICIANS, NOT JUST THE SOLDIERS, BUT EVERYONE IN OUR GLORIOUS RACE! THE DAY OF SURVIVAL AND SCRAPING BY ON THE MEANS OF EVIL MEN IS OVER! IT IS TIME FOR HUMANITY TO LIVE, TO THRIVE, TO BECOME THE LORDS OF THE STARS! SO CAST OUT THE UNION, AND JOIN THE LEGION OF THE MACHINIST!"
Silence fell over the onlookers. Seconds passed, each one feeling like an eternity. Then a man stepped out under the dropships. Casting aside his Union banner that marked him as a Captain, he raised his weapon. "I will join!" Another followed. Then more, and more.
"I will join!"
"Count me in!"
"Damn the Union, it's time for change!"
Soon victorious shouts and whoops filled the air. Emil looked towards the men in the room. Every one of them had heard, and some had already cast aside their colors and began to run out to the courtyard. Meridian walked past some of the men streaming out, moving over to his side.
"I don't believe it. Machinist actually pulled it off."
"Speech wasn't bad. Think most of 'em were planning on bugging out anyways, and this just gave them an excuse."
"Maybe so. Any reason we're still here, instead of down there?"
Emil shrugged, and exited the room.
_______________________________________________________________________________________
The soldiers of the Union were now separated, loading into multiple arriving stealth dropships. With any luck the entire incident would go unnoticed with the oncoming Free Silentian assault, and Machinist could move in to pick up the pieces. He had no doubt who would win the upcoming fight; he'd figured it would happen sooner or later long before this day. It was simply a matter of what to do afterwards.
One that he had already prepared for. |