"Does this pitiful windbag have to be left alive?"
From inside the viceroy's quarters of the Hunter's Den, Mikhail glanced over at Bartleby as they stood facing Jorji. The Survivalist pawn was seated in his Floater seat, his arms tied to the back by glowing purple ElectroCuffs. The Director of Operations for Fantine noticed that Bartleby the Kithar rebel had his honey-colored eyes clenched in fury at the traitor while his finger was placed on his laser rifle as if it was glued to it. He couldn't blame the lad for desiring vengeance on one of his kin for selling his nation and people out to a brutal army.
"Now,my boy, I know he has committed an unforgivable crime, but he needs to go through the correct process in order to be brought to justice. Once he is found guilty, then we will decide what penalty would be appropriate for him."
Bartleby gave a sidelong stare at his ally. "Do you realize how long this process of yours would take? It will be exhausting to wait for a verdict I know he will receive. So let me just shoot him now so he gets what he deserves. This way, it will save us the time and resources in addition to clearing our schedules for other matters we need to attend to. I am sure Fantine has other issues on their plate like the Kaos Riders in Saarada or the Vulcanites in Hephas."
Mikhail, knowing that it will not be easy convincing the stubborn resistance fighter to spare the Survivalist mouthpiece, raised his hands. "You do have some valid points there, sir, but we need to follow the Capital's Conduct of War lest we delve down to the same level as our adversaries."
The Kithar rebel clenched his teeth for a few moments before finally relenting albeit reluctantly. "Very well,do as you must. However, if him or any of his fellow collaborators so much as give a hint of treachery, they get a laser round. Am I clear?"
"As the skies of Paradas Island." Mikhail nodded, relieved that his ally saw sense. "Once our prisoners are behind bars where they belong, we will set to rebuilding your nation's infrastructure as well as its defense capabilities. Your troops may need coaching."
"Fair enough."
Bartleby nodded as he turned to his fellow rebel,Tabbe, who Mikhail had learned was also his brother in law, and they left for the sleek stony hallway of the Den. The Director of Operations then turned to update Skandar, Scottie, Joey, Heinrich, and Vold about the situation and what the next steps are while the infantry core and shocktroopers milled about, scouring the Den for any Survivalist soldier or one of their allies that might have escaped the Den's siege. In the hallway with the white wall and blue ground laden with red carpeting, SFF troopers as well as Jorji's militia who were captured in the taking of Kittyopolis's powerhouse were being led to the holding cells down below by Fantine troopers and the rebels that aided them in their campaign. It seemed that the the most taxing part of this operation was finished. Now it was time to clean up the war-torn nation and make the transition to pre-occupation life smoother for the citizens of Kithan.
"Sir, your presence is required down in Block 4."
Mikhail turned to see his head of security, Tarkhun, enter the room. "I'll be there shortly."
As he left the commanders of Fantine's ground forces and joined up with the Mayhan, they walked down the hall to meet Colonel Paus and Sgt. Claude, the head of the remainders of what was once the great Kithar army. The orange and yellow colonel with white spot on his forehead stepped forward.
"So you are the Director of Fantine. I have heard plenty of great things about you. We must offer our thanks for"-
Boom! Boom!
The building shuddered as the explosions struck, causing cracks to line the walls and the already fragile windows. Mikhail had grabbed onto the railing that seperated the floor they were on from the bottom one to keep from falling over. As dust and parts of ground mortar drizzled down on top of everyone on the floor, Mikhail, Bartleby, and the others ran to the windows to see what had happened. The sight that greeted him made his breath hitch.
Are these the remnants of the force we worked hard to dislodge?
Outside the ruined walls of the Hunter's Den, a whole division of SFF troopers ranging from the red-patched Marines to the gas-masked Special Ops to even the shiny green-lit helmeted Black Legion Guards were congregated, flanked by their remaining vehicles and Gamran/ Kithar militia allies. A Commissar, visible by the blue beret with a winged skull, stepped forward. The Pa'Hun Commissar's button eyes flitted from side to side, surveying the cratered landscape before speaking.
"You may think victory is yours, Fantine, but I would advise you to think again. Your arrogance blinds you to the mere might and diligence of the Survivalist army. We may be few now, but soon, the High Command will augment our force tenfold with fresh troops and armor. Now, if you would surrender, I will consider being merciful to"-
Then a loud shrieking noise pierced the early morning air, followed by a massive explosion that blossomed where the remnants of the enemy stood. As soon as the dust cleared, several green and orange Fantine aircraft, led by the blue insectoid porpoise shape of the Night Ninja, flew past.
"You didn't think we overlooked the dangers posed to you, did you?"
Mikhail just chuckled. "Of course not, Ari. I wouldn't expect anything less from you. You should land soon at Kittyopolis's main skyport. Your fuel levels must be dangerously low."
"No kidding," the voice crackled through his communicator. "We could have landed hours ago as we were the first on the job, but we couldn't leave you to face down the hazards SFF faced alone. Heck, I need a nice long nap and a shower."
---
12: 18
Hangar 3B
The Bunker
"It seems that we are back in action again, eh?"
Purhaena glanced over at her fellow SFF pilot, a Skaven-Kalash mix Targon, as they took the lift, it's insides the color of a Onero's cargo hold complete with blinking red, blue, and purple lights, to the hangar where their aircraft were parked and maintained by the ground crew.
"Well, in that sense I can say I am relieved that Devolle's company was too inept to keep Fantine at bay." Targon replied to his colleague. "However, it provides us with the opportunity to show what Beraxis Flight is made of. We are not to be underestimated as we struck Fantine's hidden base of operations and returned home with our aircraft and lives intact."
The lift steadily stopped and the doors slid open. A light gust of wind tossed a strand of Purhaena's silvery blonde hair over her left eye as the hangar, bathed in a ghostly blue light, appeared before them. Underneath the light, lay the various aircraft SFF had at its disposal, including the trademark Hellhounds, Vipers, Cobras, and Marauders created by the Y2Tek Corporation. As they made their way across the hangar to their planes, the Survivalist aviator turned to converse with her comrade.
"I'd be bluffing if I said I wasn't thrilled to take on a major operation again. Ever since our strike on Fantine, the only good assignment we were given was to keep tabs on the trade routes from the Capital to places like the Zoni'i village chain as well as Rumana as well as documenting the military outposts the Royals have across the Offworld. I mean, don't we have Hunter-Killer droids for operations like that? The boys and girls at the Intelligence Office are more than capable of sorting out intel like that. Ah, there are our rides!"
Purhaena hurried over to her blood-red bat, glowing scarlet in the light, while Targon scampered over to his black one. Around them, the other Survivalist were rushing to get to their aircraft for this urgent mission.
"There you are, Vengeance-1. We will assist you into your aircraft momentarily."
The Mechs, a group of robot mechanics that doubled as fitters, then activated the extendable stairs that let the aviator inside her aircraft. In a matter of seconds, the whirring humanoid automations had strapped her inside her plane, secured the cockpit, and prepared some last minute maintenance repairs before okaying her for taxi onto the runway.
"Vengeance-1, you are clear to head to the western runway for takeoff."
Feeling her body shiver in elation, the cobalt sky, dotted with orangish clouds on the horizon, greeted the leader of Vengeance flight as she left the protective ultrasteel cover of Hangar 3B and linked up with the line of Survivalist craft that were preparing to reach the runway. She could tell by the amount of Sky Wolves and Sky Sharks that the vast majority of these aircraft belonged to Beraxis Flight, one she, Targon and Saemon, a defected Royal pilot, were in charge of leading. Once she lined up on the ebony obsidian strip for takeoff, orders came in from the ATC that countermanded her previous ones.
"Attention all aircraft! You are to disregard your previous commands and pull to the side. I repeat, you are to pull to the side until further instructions are issued. Failure to comply will result in-"
Getting the hint, the Bat's pilot pulled over to a patch of well-tended asphalt between a Shrieker and Marauder.
"Are you kidding? " the pilot of a nearby Goblin groaned. "What are they going to do now? Bring out the Mechs to clear out the runway? They should have done that hours ago."
"I think that is why," Saemon stated.
Through the corner of her helmet, which gave her a red-tinted view of her surroundings, Purhaena spotted a hulking figure lumber upon the runway, winglights glinting red and blue. She noted with shock and awe that the Kindock-shaped aircraft took up more than a few yards of the initial runway as it positioned itself at the end of it. Could it be?
"That must be the Silent Killer! If it can perform half as fearsome as it looks, then we shall conquer the world sooner than we think unopposed. Nothing will be able to meet its immense capabilities."
He has a good point. Even I can't help but feel intimidated by that monstrosity. It is beautiful in a sense.
The ground and her bat started to rumble as the gargantuan black shape began to gradually garner speed as it shot up the runway. Purhaena could only stare in wonder as the aircraft shot past hers, its wing shooting by inches from her Bat's nose, before taking off into the clear sky. As its massive shadow flew over them, a loud rumbling shook the whole breadth of the Bunker like 50 planes taking off. The former Saint cadet was still admiring SFF's latest development, her eyes glued to it when Targon snapped her out of it.
"That was sure something, but we need to get airborne now."
---
"Alright, have all available units congregated yet?"
Inside the obsidian-colored briefing ground of Base 64, Sgt. Devolle faced off with the commanders of the SFF squads under his command. After the humiliating loss of the Kithar nation to Fantine, he couldn't risk further disgrace in the eyes of the menacing figure of S.I.N. lest he lose his head which is why he was going to use every force at his disposal to reverse their adversary's gains.
"Aye, sir!"
"Right on!"
"Hail Survival!"
"For the Federation!"
The Dathorian's red-rimmed eyes landed on General Linus Ludd, Colonel Guraff, General Breda, Sythe, Merv, Ulric, Haly'ya, and Captain Rena. He knew that they all were judging him behind their cold eyes.He knew that he would have to work hard to prove himself not only to the High Command, but to the commanders here as well. After all, what did a mere sergeant do to earn the right to command these majors, captains, colonels, and generals?
"Excellent." The commander of the Outer Strike Force cracked his knuckles as he began to pace the gleaming silver rectangular table the commanders of the operation were seated at. "I have another piece of news for you all. " Once he was certain that every eye in the room was trained upon him, the Dathorian continued. "Beraxis Flight, consisting of Vengeance, Devastation, and Despair Flight, will provide air support for our units that will lead the counterattack on the ground as those Fantine fanatics have put our air bases and ports out of commision. Not only will they cover you, but they are providing escort for our latest innovation from our Research Division's labs. I have taken it you all heard of the Silent Killer project, yes?"
A hushed silence then fell over the attendees amid the dim red light illuminating the table.
Sythe's eyes widened. "You mean it has been completed already?"
Devolle grinned devilishly. "Indeed it has. Quite a surprise for me as well, but it a much desired one as it will give us the break we need."
"Then taking the Kithan homeland will be as easy as taking a joy ride through Duraaq," Guraff stated.
"And much more if you know what that metallic demon is capable of." The SFF sergeant threw his head back and cackled. "If what Dr. Narvid boasts is true, perhaps we will have Fantine and their Capital overlords on their knees before the night is up."
"Camouflage capabilities as well as radar jamming, huh? It sounds as if this is from a Net Novel Grimm Morken would write." Captain Rena shook her head. "How many crewmen would a craft of that caliber require?"
"To be honest, I am not entirely sure." The Outer Strike Force leader frowned. "My guess is as good as yours, but I'd say about a dozen at least."
General Ludd rose from his seat. "Getting back on topic, how will we approach this mission? Do we sneak in small units and take the enemy by surprise or do we soften them up with artillery strikes before punching in."
Devolle turned his gaze toward the Kriegeran General. "Great ideas, but I already have a plan in mind. As soon as our birds in the air lead the initial strike, the Kaneen relief force will set up Screamer and Bullet missile on the surrounding hills and on our signal, they will rain those deadly weapons we have supplied them onto the Kithar lands as well as any Fantine position within a 50 meter radius of Kithan before the Armored Brigades, flanked by our Marines and Special Ops squads, will make their way in through the North, East, and West"- he uses a clicker to pull up a rotating red-rimmed map of Kithan with the borders glowing bright red while the cities were blue-" while Breda, you and your 22nd Reserve Brigade will enter through the South while the Kithar and Fantine are busy reeling from the initial bombardments. The Rangers as well as some of Death 13 death squads will clear a way for you so you face minimal resistance. With the aid of the Silent Killer as well as our Kaneen forces on the ground and in the air, what can go wrong? Would anyone like to add anything before we proceed?"
There was a loud clapping from the shadows of the room before a smooth yet scratchy voice spoke. "I must admit, you have done your research on battle tactics as your plan is well thought out. Or you might just have the natural aptitude for battle. However, there is a variable missing in your equation. Excuse me, let me correct that to was."
Sgt. Devolle and the other occupants turned their attention to the dark corner of the secret base to see a dark shape clad in a tan trenchcoat as well as a matching ranger hat emerge flanked by two slender dark shapes with glowing red eyes.
"It's the Hangman!" Merv the Mercorian gasped.
"May I ask what your business is here?" the Dathorian demanded. "How long have you been lurking back there?"
S.I.N's personal assassin gave a lopsided smirk as the two Shadow troopers behind him came to a halt. "Let's just say my presence was present right before you started your briefing. As for my business here, why don't you check your transponder and see why S.I.N. requires me be to be here."
Irritated by this party crasher, Devolle checked his transponder, confirmed the Razamjami's story, before glaring at him.
"So you and your stealth division are here for an assassination mission, correct?"
The liquidator's smirk widened, causing the sergeant to shiver. "Yes, the list is contained within S.I.N's message. You don't have to worry about being on it-yet."
He patted the Dathorian's shoulder before turning to leave. Devolle knew he didn't want to be Jorji , the Kithar resistance, or any of the head honchos of Fantine at the moment. As the sounds of approaching military vehicles surged, he finally turned to address those under his command.
"We strike at sundown."
---
"Beraxis Flight, this is Saber lead. We, along with Fang and Claw Flight, were asked to rendezvous with you on the way to Kithan. Requesting permission to join formation or fall back."
Purhaena glanced at her radar panel and noticed three sets of Howlers and Sky Wolves flying out from the east to link up with the flight of SFF aircraft, escorting a pack of Devastator bombers, as well as a massive aircraft of terror that was camouflaged in the airspace above them. She glanced out of her cockpit to make eye contact with Targon and Saemon in their Bats before responding to the Kaneen flight leader's petition.
"Saber Flight, this is Vengeance lead. On behalf of Beraxis Flight, I grant you permission to take position on our flank. Make sure you don't fly above 400,000 feet unless you want to feel the Silent Killer's power. Fall in now as we will be approaching the Outer Edge of the Great Expanse by the first shadow of Twilight."
"Roger that!"
As dozens of the new aircraft, identifiable by their tan, red, and black color code, fell in line in the squad, Purhaena glanced down at her readings to see their progress and their proximity to their destination. To the right behind them, the red and yellow-tipped buildings of Siras, the southwesternmost city of the Kaneen, glittered in the waning sunlight while the Backbone mountain range rose like the blue-black spines of a Metrodan to their 8 O'clock location. Under normal circumstances, she would have enjoyed the view, but now she had to focus on cleaning up Devolle's mess.
Why was air support minimal in the first place? What in Narglich's name was he thinking? That Fantine nor any of those pox-ridden meddlers wouldn't liberate a newly acquired territory of ours if they see minimal defense troops? Not only is Devolle weak, but he is stupid as well.
As the sunlight started to wane and red tinges stained the horizon of the cobalt sky, Purhaena spotted two whale-shaped forms with wings in the distance. She used the radar's echolocation scanner to discern their identities. She was prepared to take action if it turned out that the aircraft belonged to Fantine or any other force hostile to SFF. Targon's, also going by the call sign Lead-2, voice came through the radio vox.
"Lead-1, you seeing what I'm seeing?"
Purhaena nodded her helmet-encased head. "Affirmative. Do you believe they are hostile?"
"Negative, they seem to be clumsy Consular transport ships rather than warplanes."
Lead-1 wasn't taking any chances. As they fast closed the distance to the unidentified transports, she decided to open radio communications with them.
"Unidentified transports, this is Beraxis Flight of the Survivalist Federation Force. What is your purpose? Identify yourself or we will have no choice but to fire upon you."
Hoping she had reached the right wave frequency, Lead-1 awaited the reply from one in the transports. If she didn't receive one in the next few moments, she'd have to unleash her air torpedos on the lumbering carriers. After about a few minutes of crackling static, a response finally came through.
"Beraxis Flight, we assure you that we mean you no harm. We are only ferrying refugees of the Savirh Mine incident from the Backbones. They can't stay in the mountains too long as the Kurghs, Orks, or even trafficking syndicates would harass them."
"I see," Purhaena responded. As they closed in on the transports, she thought she noticed an emblem on one that had a brown falcon holding a multi-colored cube in its claws as well a bisected triangle that stood for air. She immediately recognized it as a Wymann-Ruusi symbol, a contractor for the Capital. She then turned to her vox and decided to contact Lead-2 and Lead-3 .
"You guys see the logo of that Royal brown-nosing group?"
"For sure," Lead-3 replied. "I suggest we blow them out of the sky as a message to our enemies. What say you?"
"I won't object to that," Targon responded.
Purhaena then decided to inform the vessels of their fate. "Vessels of the Capital, we have come to a decision. We don't see you as a threat after all."
"Really?" the excited voice rang out. "We are very grateful to you, Survivalist Federation Force."
"Which is why you are a perfect prey for the Silent Killer."
That was when the massive aircraft, only visible by its outlines as it had camouflaged with the sky above to the point of transparency, took its original looming black shape as it blotted out the sky above them. Its thrusters, glowing bright blue in the approaching sunset, shot into full power as it swooped down onto the transports like a giant bat-like Balyan.
"You know what to do?" Purhaena radioed the communications team aboard the weapon of terror.
"You speak as if we haven't gone through countless simulations," a raspy yet creepy voice responded.
"W-what is going on?" a pilot on one of those doomed transports blathered in disbelief. "W-we pose you no threat. We are unarmed and have defenseless refugees onboard! You can't"-
That was when a bright light erupted from the hatch of the Silent Killer that pierced the first transport, resulting in it imploding. The fireworks were candy to her eyes as she finally saw what a Magno beam cannon was capable of. The second transport tried to lumber away, but it couldn't escape the menacing gaze of the Silent Killer. In a matter of seconds, the larger aircraft had rained rockets and cannon fire onto the smaller one, reducing it to flaming debris that rained down on the purplish ground below.
"Now that matters are settled and we saw Narvid's innovation in action for once, we can now move on with our primary objective."
---
In the Jormugen jungle, General Tarkiss oversaw the Royal military and Legion operation to root out poachers and smugglers who tried hunting the rare Golden Ibex, protected by the Kingdoms, as well as those who tried to hide drugs, weapons, and other contraband items. A handful of Kurghs, Goblins, Imps, Dynotaurs, Orks, and Ryptars were brought before the General by a couple of his Legion troops. Tarkiss went before a purple-skinned Kurgh with blue eyes lit like the engines of an Onero transport, the leader presumably, held up by two red-armored Legion troops.
"You speak the Common language, yes?"
The Kurgh just snarled and spat at him in response.
"It is a simple question, really. Either you do or you don't." The Runarkian general employed by the Capital then raised his hand as two extra Legion troopers raised their weapons. "Now answer me or you will serve as an example to your colleagues."
The purple-skinned humanoid just cackled. "What are you going to do? Execute me? Go ahead if you have the resolve, but know this: you will never stop us! As long as there is demand for Ibex or Mastadon parts or even other secret services we provide, business will run as usual."
"Thank you for your input. You have sentenced your fellow poachers in the Royal Judiciary's place."
At his signal, the Royal troops peppered the contraband dealers with laser fire. Tarkiss, hardened by years of experiencing conflict in his homeland and in the Capital's service, watched as the lifeless smoking bodies of the poachers and smugglers fell to the grassy ground, staining the dirt with different colors of blood.
"Leave them for the animals," he ordered his troops. "Come, let us rendezvous with Magnus's squad-"
The reverberating sonic booms in the sky drowned the high-ranking officer out. He and his forces glanced skyward and were taken back by what greeted their eyes. Against the cobalt sky and peach-tinged clouds, dozens of insect or avian-shaped metallic aircraft flew in a U formation. Tarkiss turned to issue orders to a sergeant under his command.
"Contact Air Legion XV and confirm that those aircraft we just observed belong to them!"
---
Gotcha! You think you all are so slick, but you can't escape the all-seeing eye of XV Legion!
In the sky above the Jormugen jungle, Ahron and another Saint flyer were leading a squadron of the Royal Air Corps' fighter craft in the anti-smuggler operation, acting as Tarkiss's air support, when he spotted the vehicles leave from the Westward path of the bright green jungle. He decided to alert his fellow Saint, Alyona, as well as the large squadron they led.
"Saint-1 to Saint-2! Do you copy? XV Legion, ditto the message."
"Copy!"
Alyona and the rest of the XV Legion responded at once. The Royal Air Corps were a formidable force, but the Saints were the cream of the crop in the Royal air force.
"Below us are the vehicles of the remaining filchers. As they have chosen to ignore Royal Decree 7.9, the penalty is death from above. Who wants to mete it out to them?"
At once, the Capital's planes, consisting of mostly Vindicators, Swallows, and StarFires, swooped down on the vehicle convoy and open fired. Ahron felt the G-forces push back on his stomach as his creamy white Saint aircraft dived down upon the convoy and strafed at two vehicles- an Orc Crawler and an old SFF Hauler-setting them ablaze. As he pulled up, the exploding wreck below him, he came nose to nose with Alyosha, his wingman-or woman in this case. He managed to steepen his climb in time to avoid colliding with her.
"Saint-2, are you down to enjoy the gourmet of smugglers?"
"Affirmative, only I would have preferred an air battle to get my adrenaline running."
"So do I," Ahron leveled his plane several hundred feet into the air. "Nothing like a good dogfight to keep a high going, but sadly with SFF's fall decades ago, we have no formidable opponent in the air anymore."
"True," she muttered. "If you can give those Survies one thing, it would be their ability to put up a long and grueling fight."
"I concur. I hear from the HoloTek news network that the Feddies are making a comeback, but they are only a shadow of their former selves. They have been beaten and rejuvenated for almost a century-"
That was when a general transmission cut through. "XV flight, this is Tarkiss Legion on the ground. We have some unidentified aircraft in Sector 18:32. We would like to confirm whether they are a part of your division or not?"
The Half-Elf glanced down at his scanner and used the radar to track the planes marked for their squadron. They all seemed to be congregated on this section of the forest. It seemed that they had some unwanted company. "Tarkiss Legion, we have identified every plane in my squad. They are all accounted for. I will scout the bogeys with my wingman and determine whether they are hostile or friendlies."
"Affirmative, please keep us informed."
As the transmission ended, the Saint pulled up the lever back and he shot into the sky, the pearl-white plane of Alyosha trailing underneath his portside wing. In a matter of a minute and some minutes to spare, the two elite flyers got a visual of the unknown aircraft. He was able to get a lock on some before his transmission cut off.
"Wha-? Saint-2, do you read me?" No response from his wingman. "Alyosha, do you copy? Hello?"
He had identified only a few of the planes before everything went blank, but that was more than enough. The enemy planes were Hellhounds, Cobras, Vipers, Bats, and other belonging to SFF. Was it possible that they had senses the Saint's approach through their scanners and jammed their transmission so they could eliminate them? If so, they wouldn't go back without a fight.
It's time to hightail it out of here.
He glanced to his portside to see his wingman, ever the loyal one, still there and motioned through his cockpit window to get her attention and to move out. Before she could respond, a massive shadow blotted out the sunlight like a storm cloud. He turned his attention to the enemy planes and what he saw made his blood run cold for the first time since he joined the Royal Air Force.
What in Elron's name is that?
The massive raven aircraft, the size of an air carrier, loomed over them like a massive bird of prey. For a second, Ahron was frightened that it would sense him and turn its attention onto him, but instead, it seemed to be focused on another target. It had its attention set on two ponderous guppy-shaped air transports. Through his white helmet and small black goggles, the Saint watched in stark terror as a bright purplish light struck the aircraft, causing it to implode in a tumble of metallic body parts. He silently wished the second would escape the fate that befell its companion, but unfortunately, the mysterious warcraft never let it out of its gaze and finished it off as well. As soon as it had appeared, it suddenly disappeared. Ahron had no idea who those transports belonged to, but he had to warn the rest of the units of the hulking machination.
"Saint-1, comms are back online! Did you see that? What in the Offworld was that monstrosity?"
The Half-Elf took a deep breath before responding. "I am not sure, but we need to warn everyone else. We need to know what we are facing should we ever encounter it. The question is not if, but when."
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