Emperor Island
Royal XV Airbase
1: 58
"Is this everyone?"
The flickering blue holographic projection of Air Marshal Thaddeus lit the purple walls of the the briefing room of the air base as his eyes searched the entire room. Located on one of the islands off the northern Coast of the Capital lands, this air base housed the aircraft, gear, and personnel of the Royal XV Air Legion or an occasional allied military force. Like every Royal military installation, the air bases were expanded into regions outside of the Capital in order to be able to respond quickly to any issue or threat that needed their attention. Despite SFF's defeat decades prior before he joined the Royal Air Corps, Ahron was aware that several militant or terrorist groups have spawned to fill the void left by the menacing militaristic organization and that was not covering the various underground crime syndicates in each kingdom or nation. What's worse is that if the rumors were true, then SFF has risen once again and has taken over a large swathe of land in the Outeredge Territories. Ahron hoped those were only false tales passed on by the graduates of the Mikkelz Tactics Academy as the validity of these rumors would undermine the capabilities of the Capitol, its allies, and all affiliated militaries to crack down on a dangerous paramilitary organization at best or in the worst case pit another colossal crisis against the Offworld. As if anyone needed that in this day and age.
"Yes, that is pretty much all of us, including a few of my wingmen," Ahron replied, tossing a strand of his dark hair over his shoulder. "We were just roused from a joyful slumber, thank you."
The Royal Air Corps' commanding officer trained his glowing holographic eyes onto the Half-Elf aviator. "Wonderful. I am thrilled that the Saints are present, perhaps you can lead the air raid on the Ork forces near Mt. Orkha. I have heard promising stories about the Capital's elite air squadron, but I'd love to see for myself how you operate. "
"We'd love to lead the latest mission the Royal High Command has in store for us, but we need details." Ahron exchanged glances with two of his wingmen, Vulwan and Craxis.
"Yes, pardon my rudeness." The Air Marshal cleared his throat. "It appears that the Northern Orc Brigade, backed by the Ork military, if that is what you call it, as well as imps and goblins have besieged two towns in Mydia, Alamina and Lumina, threatening to overrun them lest we intervene."
"Great," a Royal aviator grumbled, picking at his acne scars. "The Orks can't settle down for once. If they aren't fighting among themselves, they turn to looting and raiding villages. So uncivilized.
"Anyhow, " Marshal Thaddeus continued. "I want you Saints leading the Royal XV Legion as air support for the Mydian's defense force while Lehman and Russal lend their armored infantry to beef up the Mydian force. "
Ahron shared a glance with Kaemon, the dark-haired tan-skinned leader of Legion XV flight. "Understood. We shall fly out at once."
It wasn't long until the Saint's leader, in his White Angel, and his two wingmen led Kaemon's squadron of Firedrakes, Vindicators, and Avengers eastward to the land of Mydia. Before long, they made a loop over the Dopaki'i hills before coming upon their destination. Using his glowing orange scanner, Ahron spotted several concentrations of green and black dots, representing the Ork positions. Thankfully, the ditzy brutes had no airforce or formidable anti-aircraft weapons, their Dakhar guns don't count.
Shame. I would have welcomed a challenge from these little gray men. The Saints were wasted on this. Kaemon's legion of fighters and fighter-bombers would have been sufficient to wipe out the Ork invaders.
Taking a breath, the Half-Elf gave the signal and swooped down like an angel of death and strafed the Ork forces. Despite it not amounting as a challenge, the thrill of a battle still rose in Ahron's chest.
"Just take out their armor and it will be over before we know it. Perhaps we can catch a decent night's sleep while we are at it."
---
At that exact same time, Mikhail, Bartleby, Tarkhun, and the rest of his security detail pushed their way deeper into SFF-occupied Kithan, cleaning up as the Infantry Unit cleared the path for all other groups upon penetrating SFF's initial defenses. Up above, the shocktroopers parachuted into secure areas of the war zone from their dropships as the battle raged on. Warplanes shot by overhead, followed by the loud roars of their engines. Several explosions rumbled in the distance as the ground shuddered.
"How much farther until we reach the detainment facility?" Tarkhun asked as he fired his 0.43 bolt at a few SFF troopers as they took cover behind a burned out Armadon troop carrier. Before the Kithar rebel could reply, a bright flash lit the sky and soon a flaming SFF Xystar gunship spiraled down from the sky and landed onto a building two streets down, resulting into a bright fireball that temporarily blinded all the combatants.
"Oh, that was intense!" Bartleby chuckled as the sounds of laser and slug fire hissed or whistled through the air. " Let's try to locate that prisoner complex. We need more allies pronto!"
"You said it!" Mikhail crouched under the burned husk of the carrier and used the shattered windows as a sniper hole to gun down enemy forces on the opposite side. He had already lost half of his entourage to death or injury and couldn't risk further whittling down their numbers. He had last lost a couple of the silver and black-clad bodyguards to an Atom mine hidden under a Kitty civilian vehicle and he still bore their gore on his armor as proof. "Although if we try to charge through the narrow streets behind that alley, we will be running into a chokepoint. "
As Bartleby and Tarkhun peeked over their cover to scan the street that had turned into a messy battlefield, the low growls of SFF vehicles drowned out the sounds of conflict. Mikhail turned his gaze away from the chokepoint and held his breath as a few red, blue, black,and striped APCs, flanked by SFF troops and Gamran mercenaries, arrived to seal off every corridor of escape for Mikhail and his escorts. If the Survies were successful in capturing Fantine's Director of Operations, then the organization will have suffered a devastating blow that will subvert the operation to rid SFF of a foothold in any nation.
No, I cannot let myself fall into the clutches of the Feddies. I don't have the luxury of being a bargaining chip for these despotic fiends.
Besides him, what remained of his escort, along with Bartleby and Tarkhun, were being boxed around the Armadon by enemy forces. As each second ticked by, the enemy armor and vehicles, backed by troopers using them as cover, started to close the distance between their prey by each second.
Bartleby glanced over at Mikhail and Tarkhun. "Do you guys have a backup plan or do you intend for them to capture us? Just to let you know, I would rather be dead than at the mercy of such an unsparing army."
Mikhail furrowed his brows. It seemed that they had no other viable alternative than to get taken as POWs and face a fate worse than death or go down in a blaze of glory. Tarkhun then spoke up.
"Perhaps I can create a distraction with the rest of our guard while you and Bartleby slip away in the cover of darkness," Tarkhun spoke up. "I see no other viable alternative."
Before Mikhail could object or approve of his head of security's scheme, loud explosions drowned him out.
Shew! Shew!
The Fantine infiltrators crouched low among the blown-out carrier as explosions erupted around them, spraying up dirt, glass,and metal. The screams and shouts of the enemy soldiers filling up the night was proof enough that a friendly force was behind the attacks. Once the dust cleared, Mikhail spotted SFF troopers and vehicles blazing with a vengeance.
"Woah, what in Felina's name is that? Some kind of drone?"
Hearing Bartleby's inquiries, Mikhail glanced up at the sky and spotted a winged shape that resembles a bat crossed with a porpoise disappear over burning buildings. He noticed that it had no definite color and switched between light purple to a pale blue. If Sentery hadn't briefed him earlier, he would have been petrified by the sight.
"Let's just say it is a friendly." Mikhail smiled.
"Multiple vehicles approaching!" Tarkhun shouted.
Craning his neck over the northwest corner of the vehicle they used as a cover, Mikhail spotted a couple Armadillos and a Tortoise carrier stop. The top hatch of the dark green Tortoise flipped open and a soldier in full gear waved them over.
"Are those friendlies as well?" Bartleby narrowed his amber eyes in suspicion at the newcomers.
"Indeed, those vehicles belong to our Infantry Core, led by Strygar and Scottie. Come, if you want to free your fellow soldiers from the SFF detention center, then we must make haste."
The next thing they knew, the remaining members of the Director's entourage were helped into the carrier before they rode off through the battle-strewn streets of Kithan.
---
"Where is the Evac Heli?"
Admiral Nerezza, seeing that either death or apprehension by the Fantine occupiers awaited him, shouted at a nearby engineer as an intense war raged around the building. The sounds of the bombs being dropped by the aircraft were deafening and the din of battle showed no indication of dying down. The Zassoon glanced over at him as the technicians leaned over the screens monitoring the war that was going poorly for the Survivalists.
"It is en route from Yarran skyport. It's ETA is about five standard minutes."
That was assuming that it didn't get shot down by enemy planes or anti-aircraft fire. One of the radar techs whirled around to face the admiral, his bright red eyes the size of saucers.
"Sir, Sgt. Devolle is on the line. I think you better answer it."
"You think I know that? I seen the fate that befalls those that brush aside the Outer Strike Team coordinator's summons. Now hurry up and pull it up!" The former pirate growled.
Not needing to be told twice, the lad quickly conjured the image of the Dathorian.
"What can I do for you, Sarge?"
Devolle narrowed his eyes. "From Base 64, our scanners had indicated the presence of a large military force bearing down on your position and I doubt they are friendlies. How are you holding up?"
It took all of the admiral's will power to look at the high-ranking officer in the eyes as he spoke. It baffled him as to why he, an admiral of the Survivalist Federation Force, had to take commands from a sergeant. He belonged in the high seas, not landlocked in a backwater country presiding over their dithering puppet Jorji. He wasn't an advisor in governing, dammit.
"The Fantine onslaught has caught us flat-footed and I sincerely doubt that we can recover from this cheap shot of a blow enough to push back. Our forces, in addition to Jorji's loyalist paramilitary force, have put up a valiant fight, but we are outgunned and outnumbered and I sincerely doubt that we can keep up this grueling battle to maintain our grip on Kithan."
As the roar of warplanes echoed, Devolle stroked his goatee. "So you say. I figured as much. Very well, I have already sent ahead several battalions and legions from General Breda, Colonel Guraff, Captain Rena, Corporal Mimring, Olivier, Ulric, and Merv to reinforce the beleaguered forces defending our newly acquired territory. We may even receive additional forces to enforce a swift counterattack from our Kaneen allies or even from the Bunker."
Hearing the Bunker mentioned made the scarred admiral with the glowing red eye sheathed under a black eyepatch from his pirate years anxious yet pleased. The Bunker was the codename for SFF's concealed HQ.
So will Mithros, S.I.N., or Skritsk send the reinforcements that I direly need? That would be quite an honor if they all can pitch in to bail my hide out. After all, I am an Admiral of the Navy. I need to be back at the Galtar Sea commanding a flotilla, not doing the work of a war lord.
"So should I bail out of the city or link up with Jorji in the areas that aren't struck by Fantine?"
The Dathorian narrowed his beady eyes. "We have not lost the land yet therefore I will not allow you to leave our ally at the mercy of our greatest enemy neither will I have you shame us in front of S.I.N, Mithros, or any other members of the High Command. I suggest you board a shuttle and link up with Jorji."
"At once, sir!" Nerezza nodded as he ended the signal. The roaring of the jets in addition to sounds of sporadic weapons fire and explosions hit the admiral's senses hard and one explosion that seemed too close for comfort shook the Comm building. Inwardly, he flinched at the thought of situation where a plane had bombed their position or an artillery shell could have landed on top of them, caving them in at best or obliterating the group to atoms at worst, but couldn't let that show since showing vulnerability in front of your fellow Survivalists could spell death for one.
"Sir!" The Zassoon hurried over to him, knocking a couple engineers out of the way. "The Evac has arrived. We need to make haste if we are to arrive at Zygan tower to meet with Jorji."
Without even answering, the Deep Blue pirate sprinted up the copper steps enclosed by red and brown walls adorned with blinking blue and red lights before he came before the door to the rooftop. The rusty gray-blue door slid open as Nerezza and the rest of the Comm and Engineering crew burst through, greeted by heavy smoke drifting from blazing fires amid a raging battlefield. All around them, green, blue, and red flashes lit the perimeter and explosions echoed around the town. A dark warplane, engulfed in bright red flames, plummeted toward a cluster of buildings. A bright flash lit the city for a couple seconds after it made contact with the surface. He had no idea who it belonged to nor did he give a galleon, but there was only one thought that was prevalent on his mind.
Where is the damned heli?
As if some supernatural force had read his mind, he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned around and realized that it belonged to the Zassoon.
"Sir, our ride is behind us."
Sure enough, a glance behind him floated the red and blue striped Hornet with glaring reptilian eyes painted over it. The side door opened up and a crew member dressed in a red jumpsuit leaned out and beckoned to him. As a relieved Nerezza reached out for the human's hand, he saw a blue flash from the corner of his eye and streaked over to his ticket out, making contact with the back end of the Hornet. With the back half of the twin-engined aircraft gone, the flaming Hornet spiraled toward the battlefield below.
"Blast it! What happened?"
The answer to his question was several armored warriors landing onto the roofs around them, jetblacks belching out electric blue flames. They then drew their weapons, sleek silver rifles, and aimed them at Nerezza and crew.
"Hands in the air! You are to be taken prisoner by the Fantine Shocktrooper Legion. I suggest you keep you all comply with our orders if you wish to live to see another sunrise."
Seeing that he was unarmed and had no other option, Nerezza and the Comm/ Engineering crew yielded to the armored soldiers with visors that glowed different colors.
---
"Clear out the rubble at once!"
As Tabb and his fellow slave workers climbed out of safety from their work stations after the bombardment had ceased, several Specialists, clad in corroded silver metal armor, led a squad of RepairBots to tend to the damage . The Kithar wasn't sure if the bombardment was by aerial forces or by ground-based artillery, but he welcomed any attempt to disrupt SFF's war productions. Heck, he even welcomed death as a more viable alternative to spending the rest of his life laboring for these fanatical militants. As they regained their bearings and Tabb's ringing ears and headache cleared, the Kithan worker's slitted eyes wandered around the factory and saw that among the ruined machinery and flaming metal lay the broken corpses of not only the SFF guards, but even a few Kithar laborers who had taken the brunt of the raining explosives.
I can't say that I envy them, but it is an easier way out than being worked due to death by a scaly unstinting reptilian that belongs in a jungle hunting Brachyoids. On the bright side, my fellow Kithars found peace.
"Laborers, line up against the east wall at once!"
Through the dusty atmosphere, the bright starlight, glowing through the holes that were the only signs that the bombs had struck the factory, the Ryptar, dark green scales glistening, that served as their overseer paced back and forth between the worktables, his bright yellow eyes blazing. The guards, the bottom half of their faces covered by black and midnight blue, balaclavas or bandanas, lined up the Kithars against the wall, their weapons trained on them.
"This is unacceptable!" He bellowed as he paced in front of the workers. "We have worked too hard to meet the quota of arms, weapons and armor for our forces and now an enemy airstrike that happens to be precise lays waste to the fruit of our efforts? Coincidence? I think not!"
If their situation hadn't been so precarious, the Kithar would have thought the Ryptar's reaction wouldn't be out of place at a local comic club. The manner of speech as well as the facial expressions of the overgrown iguana was too comical, which is why he bit his lip to keep from laughing out loud. That would be no different than asking to be placed onto an electro-guillotine. Unfortunately, a small group of his fellow Kithars couldn't suppress their laughs.
"Do you find my inquiry amusing?" the scaly supervisor snarled. He pointed a talon, gleaming in the light of the night sky, toward the offenders and two black-armored guards with red patches on their shoulders shoved the five forward. "I will show you what is amusing to me. " His yellow slitted eyes fixed onto the guards that wore a blue patch on their shoulders, possibly his personal detachment. "Fire on those saboteurs, but leave one alive."
Tabb winced as the guards leveled their rifles and obeyed their superior, downing four of the laborers and leaving only one alive, who was a former acquaintance of his during his days of studying materials manipulation at Ramam College. The last he had heard of Kobinn, he had relocated to Juyan Province to begin a farm with his family and settle down away from the chaotic din of city. Tabb had vague memories of a decade past, but he couldn't forget the good times with Kobinn when they hit the bars and clubs after a long night of studying for exams or competing assignments or when they'd visit Katatonic Rapids for thrill rides. The times when they would take their dates to late night movies were still fresh in his head. He could only watch in horror and plead with Felina the Kithar Goddess to spare one of his old classmate's life as the overseer advanced toward Kobin, a look of bloodlust coating his yellow eye.
Please don't let him meet his end by that putrid velociraptor. I will promise to offer more incense at the altar in your temple and even encourage my family and friends to do likewise. Just don't let Kobinn die!
"Congratulations, it is your lucky night. You survived," the Ryptar smirked.
"Does this mean that I am free to go?" the yellow Kithar with brown stripes looked up, an optimistic glow in his emerald-colored eyes.
"Why yes, just make your way toward the door by the guards." The Ryptar extended a scaly hand toward the blown-out exit. "I lied!"
The next scene caught a horrified Tabb by surprise. The Ryptar's long neck shot down and the maw adorned with razor sharp teeth clamped down on the Kithar's head before it took it off with a sickening crack. Tabb suddenly felt very nauseous as the overseer, teeth still coated and dripping with the vermillion blood of his victim, smirked and pointed at the slave laborers.
"Shoot them all until the traitor fesses up."
Before the Kithars could brace themselves for the impending volley of lasers, the walls suddenly exploded, sending bodies careening across the room. Coughing up dust and wiping his brow, Tabb glanced up to see troopers, mostly humanoid, clad in forest camouflage pour into the room and shoot anyone dressed in the sinister garb of SFF. The Ryptar lunged at the nearest attacker and managed to tear his claws into a couple before being taken out by slugs and lasers. Once his one-time tormentor crumpled to the ground, Tabb slowly rose to his feet to greet their liberators, as did his fellow surviving Kithars. One of their helmeted rescuers spoke up.
"Attention, factory workers. You are to cease production at this facility as of now. You have been liberated from your oppressors by the Fantine armored infantry units. You are now free to go home to your families."
Now that was an order Tabb was more than willing to comply with.
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